#explaining some of his lingering loyalty

[pawpunkao3]

Zac Oyama, Brennan Lee Mulligan, my grandmother probably: Norman lived a sad life and got taken advantage of because he was Bad With People (by which we mean an asshole).

Me: But what if. He was disabled. Like me <3

[ak319]

Yan Socialite Brother x reader x Yan?Hubby

YOUR LITTLE EZZY'S BACK! So I couldn't help but write more about him. I will also write a version with the reader's wife. Enjoy reading ♡ Ezra Headcanon

In the dark hours, the Alvarez estate was shrouded in a thick silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire that danced in the hearth. Shadows stretched across the grand, dimly lit room, adding to the air of peculiar mystery that seemed to cloak the entire estate. Ezra sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the flames that flickered with a restless energy, mirroring the turmoil within him. The news you had shared with him still echoed in his mind, fanning the fire of his emotions, making it burn hotter, fiercer.

"Amir?.." his eyes were fixed on your back as you scrummaged through the bookshelf. You replied back gently. "Yes, Amir. The boy who works on one of the farms."

So a slave huh?

And then you explained everything to Ezra, from how you saw Amir, appreciated his gentle nature, and were now thinking of bringing him here as your groom. Ezra’s rage simmered beneath the surface, though his fake smile and curious eyes never left your face. But your tone didn’t match the word "thinking", it clearly said, "I am bringing him as my groom." He was happy… happy for you. But on the other hand, he wasn’t happy for himself.

This was the day he had dreaded. For his own peace of mind, he sent one of his attendants, Rowan, to inquire about this so-called Amir. The report? Amir was a poor servant with three siblings and parents who also worked on the farm. Amir was the oldest. Hm. Poor, innocent, loyal, and not too bad-looking, though in Ezra's eyes, everyone pales in comparison to Alvarez's. Nobody can ever be good enough for you. He just didn't want his sister to marry a dirt-face. After all, their family has a certain dignity in society. There was something he relished in this situation, Amir’s meekness, bred by his lower status, was something Ezra could use and if his sister were to marry, it should be to someone who knows their place.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Amir couldn’t shake the memory of the way you approached him that day.

“M-my lady-”

“It’s okay, relax. Just came to greet you and see how the work is going.” His hand continued to glide through the horse’s mane, though his gaze, filled with shyness and respect, lingered on you. You loved that. “What’s your name, boy?”

“A-Amir…ma’am.” You asked him more questions, and with each one, his initial fear of you began to fade. Eventually, he even dared to ask some of his own. He didn’t realize that he had backed away to the fence, cornered by your every step forward.

“I don’t think a…” You gently removed a leaf from his silky hair. “A pretty thing like you belongs on a farm.” His quick breaths brushed your face before he turned away. Did you just compliment him?! How could you not? He was so unique with that snowy hair and those pale green eyes. “U-um, but I have to-w-work to earn-for-”

“What if I say, not anymore?”

On that very day, you boldly asked his parents for his hand in marriage, right there on the farm, while Amir stood paralyzed in disbelief. His parents, naturally, agreed without a moment's pause, and his heart raced as he caught your final glance over your shoulder before you rode off with your men. How could a humble servant like him ever be worthy of becoming your husband? The idea felt impossible, undeserved. But as the reality settled in, he came to see it not as a blessing but as a test---a daunting trial between love, loyalty, hate… and obsession.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

'Time to play some games' Ezra smirked in the mirror as he gave himself a once-over. "Nobody can outshine you Ezra or take your place, nobody."

The grand staircase of the mansion, lavishly adorned for his sister's wedding, became the stage for Ezra's entrance. As he descended, everyone’s eyes were drawn to him. His gaze landed on you seated beside Amir on the sofa, and his smirk widened at the sight of Amir’s expression. Those doe eyes that have seduced his sister were now filled with embarrassment, as they should be.

Amir was at a loss. His brother-in-law, dressed in an outfit nearly identical to his own--albeit more glamorous and in a different color--had just exposed Ezra's facade. All the sweet words and actions before the wedding had been an act. Ezra settled onto the cushion next to you, casually nibbling on some food from the table, savoring the revelation of his little game.

"Ezra, you should have rested," you said, your tone carrying a hint of concern. Amir was taken aback, noticing your relaxed demeanour. It seemed you hadn’t caught onto Ezra’s stunt. It wasn’t your fault, after all. Maybe you are too tired to notice or don't want to scold your brother, whom you cherish deeply, especially in front of guests—many of whom were now eyeing Ezra with a mix of admiration and curiosity. His display was a calculated reminder that he would always eclipse Amir. Ezra had even missed the official ceremony, claiming illness as his excuse and retreating to his room.

"Nonsense!. How could I have missed my own sister's wedding? And did you forget that I managed all these preparations?. I would never miss it."

'Oh, but you missed the vow ceremony, how convenient and now he's here to remind everyone how he managed all of this and such a good brother-in-law he is by being sweet to me and my family.'

"Do I look good, sister?"

"Of course you do. When have you ever looked bad?" You reached out to pat his head affectionately before pulling a small pouch from your pocket. "This is for you Ezra, a token of appreciation for your efforts, as tradition dictates."

Ezra’s eyes sparkled with delight as he accepted the pouch of gold. "It was nothing. Thank you so much. I just did my duty."

He got up soon to cater to guests including Amir's family probably to show off how humble he is.

The only thing keeping Amir sane and easing his worries was you. Your hand held his gently, and he felt comforted by the ring you put on his finger. He placed his other hand on yours, needing the reassurance that you were there for him.

‘As long as you’re here,’ he kept praying silently.

However, as days passed since the marriage, Ezra's facade toward his brother-in-law began to crumble in your absence. Amir couldn’t understand why Ezra, who had been nothing but nice to him, now seemed to act cold and distant.

The taunts, the disgusted glances, and the deliberate ignoring of Amir had become a painful routine. What troubled him the most was Ezra’s ability to put on a friendly front when you were around. He wondered how a person could even do that? Can he be this deceitful too? His parents always taught him to be kind and true to people. That is why he bared himself to you, he opened his heart to you and gave himself completely. By now he had come to terms with it that Ezra won't ever see him as part of the family much less as an equal. But he remained focused on making sure you were happy with him, that he never made you upset with him because that is what Ezra wants but with Amir's modest and docile nature, it was nearly impossible,

"You know, Amir, since my sister is away on a business trip, you might as well stay with your parents for a while." Amir looked up from his untouched breakfast, confusion and concern etched on his face.

"U-um... why?"

"Why?" Ezra's lips curled into a dismissive smirk. "Well, your duty is to her, and since she’s not here, you might as well go. It’s not like you’re doing anything important around here."

"But—"

"I’ll have the carriage prepared." And just like that he got up and left, Rowan tailing behind him. And so, Amir found himself spending days with his family. His spirits lifted somewhat in their comforting presence, but his thoughts were always clouded by how much he longed to be in your arms. However...

"You don’t just get up and leave like this. Did you even realize how badly this reflects on me? My spouse just vanished after a few days of marriage. I expected you to be waiting for me at the door, but instead, you were here." Your words felt like sharp needles piercing his heart, making him clutch the carriage’s cushion tighter. His mind was filled with images of Ezra welcoming you back, whispering deceitful tales of how he had left.

'He was bored.'

'He doesn’t like it here. I think he doesn't even want to make an effort to adjust.'

'He didn’t even bother to greet you. What kind of husband is he, sister?'

"(Y/N), I d-didn’t mean to leave. It’s just--" What could he say to avoid further anger? Should he blame Ezra? The thought of making excuses or casting blame only added to his distress.

"I don’t care. Next time, don’t leave like that. And if you feel the need to, ask me first. Got it? Also, you can just call your family to visit there. That’s your home now, you don’t have to keep coming back here." He nodded, biting his lip. 'As if your brother would ever let my family feel welcome there. I would never subject them to that mansion of thorns, to be insulted. That’s something I won’t tolerate.'

"Forgive me?" he asked softly, leaning closer to you. "Please, I missed you with every breath." A tired sigh and a gentle caress on his face were all he received, but even that was more than enough for him.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Time seemed to pass slowly for Amir, each day filled with torment and venomous words from Ezra. He hid his tears, letting them out in some corner of the mansion , so that when you returned, he could greet you with a smile. He didn’t know what to do. He didn't want to stress you by complaining about your brother or involving you in this petty game. He felt like he was going mad as he dwelled on his thoughts. The books offered some solace, but he wished his life were more like a fairytale.

“Well, I thought you should take care of the household budget now, but I think it’s too soon for you to handle this. There are a number of reasons for my distrust, which... I would prefer not to share.”

“It’s alright... I just joined the family, so I think it’s inappropriate for me to take on that responsibility. And brother Ezra is handling it well anyway.”

“Thank you for understanding.” You gently played with his hair as his head rested on your lap. “I love how understanding you are.” He melted under your compliment, the magical touch adding to his contentment.

“Anything for you, wife. You know better than me. Whatever decision you make, I’ll always accept it.” He kissed your finger, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of the ring you wore. The ring his family had bought with whatever they could afford, and yet you wore it. You were the only one who hadn’t looked down on him because of his status. You even cared for his family, sending them provisions and gifts.

Actually, there was another person who hadn't looked down on Amir--your mother, Ms. Grace. She was a woman who preferred solitude, keeping herself busy with her hobbies after her husband's death. Whenever Amir felt alone, he made sure to check on her, offering company and conversation.

“You’re a really good boy. My daughter found a gem.” Amir smiled, but his eyes told a different story. They were seated in Grace’s study, having tea. “Something troubles you, and I know what it is. It’s Ezra, isn’t it?” Damn it, is it that obvious?

“N-no, no, he’s nice. I’m just--”

“Oh, save it. He’s my son, I can smell his shenanigans from miles away. And that daughter of mine—utterly stupid!. She’s the reason he’s like this. Either she’s too aloof or just chooses to ignore it.”

“No, no! She has a lot on her plate. I just don’t want to burden her with such petty problems. She brought me here so that she could find peace, not for me to disrupt it.” Grace’s heart swelled with pity and love at his words. “You are my son too, okay? And I’m just trying to help you understand that you’re the only one who can help yourself.”

“W-what does that mean?”

"It means you have to be strong. You’re not some piece of garbage my daughter picked up. She brought you here, gave you a title, and bestowed you with respect--so honor it, and don’t let anyone take it away just because they think you don’t deserve it. My in-laws were a piece of work too. May their souls rest in peace, but I went through some tough times with them. What kept me firm was my husband. Do you get my point?"

Her in-laws--oh, what a tragedy that befell them on that ferry. The whole town was shaken. Perhaps it was their karma.

“Yes.”

"You love her, right?" His head snapped up to meet her eyes. Was that even a question?

"More than anything! Always."

"Then don’t beat yourself up like this. Just do your part and leave the rest to God. Everything will be alright one day." Amir nodded and took a sip of his remaining tea, feeling a bit lighter and more hopeful. She was right. Being depressed and crying wouldn’t get him anywhere. Worse, you might even leave him because of his sulky behavior. His fingers tightened around the saucer.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"Sir Ezra has called for you," Rowan informed him as he was putting on his shoes. The two of you were getting ready for dinner. "Me?"

"Yes, you, sir. In his room."

"I'll be there." He glanced at you as you were fastening your coat. "Yeah, go ahead, I'll be waiting downstairs." He nodded and left, but not before helping you with your sleeve buttons and giving you a quick peck.

"You called for me?" His smooth voice reverberated in the quiet room, his eyes finding Ezra nestled in his giant bed.

"Oh yes, you two are going out, right? Could you tell (Y/N) to bring back those pastries that I love?" Something felt off.

Amir swallowed the uneasiness and glanced between Ezra and Rowan. "Sure. Anything else?"

"No. That would be all, thank you."

As always, you had chosen a high-end restaurant, and your presence and attention made him forget all his worries. This was what he cherished the most, his time with you. Your care, your love. He felt, no, believed that he was the luckiest man alive. Contrary to Grace's words, you did pick him from the trash and made him your treasure.

When you both entered the mansion hand in hand, your smile immediately faded into a worried frown.

"EZRA!" Amir barely had time to react as he saw you rush up the stairs where Ezra was now slumped against the railing. The bag of pastries had been thrown from your hands and lay at his feet.

"ROWAN! CALL THE DOCTOR! What happened, Ezra?!"

"Di-did you bring the med...?" Ezra's one hand gripped your collar as the other his stomach.

"What medicine?!"

"The one I asked for..." Ezra's weary, hollow gaze turned to Amir, sending a chill through his very core. "Rowan, help me carry him." You shot a sharp glance over your shoulder at Amir as you hurried up the stairs.

'He did it again... God,' Thought Amir as he bent down to collect the crumbles scattered on the carpet. They mirrored his own shattered emotions and the fractured state of his new life.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I swear he asked for pastries... you believe me, don't you!? Please!"

"I said, let it go. Just shut up." You settled onto the bed, sighing as you saw him standing in the corner, emotionless.

"Amir, come here. There is something you should know." Your tone was soft, almost apologetic.

He sat beside the bed, his eyes cast on the floor. "Listen, I feel like you both don't get along, but that needs to change, okay? He is my brother, and you are my husband. Both of you are important to me. And I wanted to tell you that soon after having a talk with him, I will ask Mother to find a suitable bride for him. This family needs an heir."

Wait...

"Heir?"

"Yes, an heir. Even though, as you know, I'm not a fan of children in any shape or form, the line needs to continue. That is Ezra's duty, so he is essential to me. This whole tedious business of having children...ugh." You rubbed your forehead in frustration. "Whatever. But we will also treat them like our own, okay?" You loathed the idea of carrying a child yourself, and Amir was just as opposed to the thought of you experiencing any discomfort. The thought of losing you over that made him shiver. The business was more important to you than anything, and you made that very clear before marriage. Your word was law. Still, he couldn’t help but ask.

"C-can't we both... adopt, though?"

"That's for another day and why adopt now when we can have our own? Ezra has to marry someday. It’s completely fair. He needs to grow up now."

Your tone and earlier outburst made him nod frantically, but a new emotion stirred within him , something close to amusement. Oh, how will Ezra react when you make him marry someone. Maybe it’s for the best, 'At least he’ll get off my back, hopefully.'

Yet, he also felt pity for the woman who would be bound to that two-faced bastard. Is your only goal to use your brother as a breeder? That’s even more amusing.

As you lay down, he went to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. If Ezra were to provide you with a child one day, wouldn’t that make him more honorable in your eyes?

'No, after today’s stunt, I’ve had enough of this.'

You want a child, an heir--that’s clear, that's fine. But he won’t let Ezra exploit this situation.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I--I mean--" Ezra stammered, his usual confidence wavering as he tried to find the right words.

You held his face in your hands, your grip firm yet gentle, your eyes searching his. "It's not like I am asking for something outrageous here," you said, your tone soft but laced with expectation.

Ezra's eyes darted away for a moment, then back to you. "I get you, but isn’t it too soon? I mean-"

"You're of age," you cut him off, your tone now tinged with a bit of annoyance. "You’ve never rejected anything I’ve asked of you before, and now you are?"

"NO! No, absolutely not, sister!" Ezra's voice was a mix of desperation and determination. "How can you even think that? I will do it. I will." Inside, though, his mind rebelled. It’s not the marriage that Ezra hates, it’s the idea of spending his life with some annoying woman. What if she turns out to be a snake too?! Oh, he won't forgive that, ever. His eyes betrayed a flicker of dread before he quickly masked it with a forced smile.

"Great, then. Mother will surely find the most amazing match for you," you said with finality, turning to leave. "Just make sure to tell her what your type is. Remember, she shouldn’t just be a good wife but a perfect mother for my heir too."

Without another word, you exited the room, leaving Ezra alone with his spiraling thoughts. Did Amir put this idea in your head? Sometimes, Ezra just wanted to kill that son of a-

"Deep breaths, Ezra, deep breaths," he muttered to himself, trying to quell the surge of frustration. Yeah, his sister wouldn’t be happy if her husband was torn to pieces. 'This is your life now', seeing Amir’s face in this mansion every single day, and soon enough, a wife’s too. Ugh! He threw a vase at the wall in a fit of irritation. He won't ever be in peace until you divorce Amir.

He couldn’t afford to dwell on that for now. He had to carry out your order, even if he despised the thought of dealing with an annoying woman and whining babies. You had given him a task, a job, and he couldn’t let you down. He would never let you down.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Ezra's bride, Jean Aston, had been chosen--an arrangement made with a family friend. While Ezra couldn't have cared less about the choice, he at least appreciated that Jean stood out with her striking red hair and green eyes. His wife needed to be of some caliber, though in his view, only one person could be the true beauty of the marriage, and that person was unquestionably him. However, he also acknowledged the importance of passing on good genes to the heir you desired.

What he hadn’t expected was Jean’s bubbly demeanor. Wasn't she the one who had been too shy to meet him before the wedding?

"Can you be quiet? Can you be a bit more demure?" Ezra snapped, his patience wearing thin as she chattered incessantly, sitting beside him after their vows. "Look at me--am I being so chattery? Bride and groom are supposed to be graceful, woman."

Jean’s expression soured beneath her veil. "Wow, I was just trying to make small talk. I’ve been quiet since our engagement, so I’m going to talk now that we’re married. Also when is the food going to served?I am starving, how can-"

'God, just let this ceremony end already.'

Meanwhile, in the far corner of the room, Amir sighed, silently wishing Jean the best. Poor girl didn’t know what she was in for. His mind wandered back to his own wedding, the memory leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. It was hard not to compare the two experiences and feel a twinge of sympathy for her. At least you are way better than Ezra. A lot...no, perfect in his eyes. Always.

Once they retreated to their room, Ezra lifted Jean's veil with a cold, expressionless face, cutting her off before she could utter a word.

"There are some things you need to engrain in that skull of yours. First, always show respect for my sister. Always. You know that, don’t you? Secondly, try talking less and listening more."

"Got it! Now, where’s my wedding gift?" Jean’s cheerful interruption made Ezra’s jaw tighten, but he quickly masked his irritation with a smooth composure.

"No, you tell me first--who advised you to wear a harvest gold veil with such questionable embroidery? Huh? Such a poor fashion choice. I’ve explicitly told your family that gold is my color, I wear it. I don’t want to see you in it again." His fingers traced the material with a disdainful touch. "This abomination definitely needs fixing ." Though the veil was actually quite pretty, he couldn’t accept the fact that she looked good in it-- perhaps more than he did which is a big no.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Months later, the mansion, once quiet and dull, now echoed with the cries of a baby boy whom you named, Joseph. Ezra handed you the baby first which you were hesitant to hold but did anyway, after all you asked for this. It only lasted for a few minutes before he dozed off in Jean's arms.

"Jean," you said, gently patting her head. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and curiosity, her eyes brightening with anticipation. You took the papers from Amir and handed them to her. "Here's a gift. A plot, in your name and another in dear Joseph's. You’ve earned it."

Jean’s eyes widened with surprise and gratitude. "Y-you didn’t have to, (Y/N)-"

"Jean," Ezra scolded gently, his tone surprising you. It seemed that your brother had softened a bit since Joseph’s birth.

"Don’t refuse (Y/N)'s gift. Accept it," he added. Jean nodded, her shyness evident, but her gratitude clear as she met your gaze. "Thank you, (Y/N)."

"Good, now rest. The nanny will arrive soon," you instructed, leaving with Amir in tow. Ezra shot a disapproving look at Amir as they exited.

"Don’t be rude to Brother Amir like that," Jean reprimanded.

"It’s none of your concern. Stop being his defender, anyway. Focus on the child, his upbringing must be perfect. And take care of yourself too--I don’t want you fainting while feeding him." With that, Ezra stormed out. Jean sighed, finding him as unpredictable as ever--hot one moment, cold the next.

The tragedy that struck when Joseph was just six months old was unexpected. The poor child fell gravely ill, and even the doctors couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with his stomach. But by some blessing, everyone's prayers were answered when Amir's remedy worked, one his mother used to give when they were sick as children and Joseph was saved. Had it been a moment later, who knows what could have happened. Even though Ezra didn't bother to thank Amir, it didn’t matter. Amir did it for you, for your child.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"You know, I think it's been a while since I married you," you murmured, lost in thought.

Amir looked up from his book and chuckled, "Oh, you realized it now? I think it's been more than a while, my dearest."

"I know, I know." You now stood where he was seated, gently caressing his cheek. "I think it's time you start doing your duty here." You handed him the seal, "You're in charge of the household's budget now." Amir's eyes widened in surprise. "B-but brother Ezra--"

"Shush," you interrupted. "I decide how things are run here. And I’m giving you this responsibility. Don’t disappoint me."

He nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face as he kissed your knuckles. "Never, I won’t ever dream of it."

From within, his heart was bursting with happiness. At last, he had something--something he wanted, something he could use as leverage against Ezra. His plan had worked flawlessly. His hidden knowledge of botany had made it all possible; plants to make poison, plants to make antidote. A soft giggle escaped him and so did some tears, as you left the room, the seal twirling between his fingers.

Deep inside, he couldn’t ignore the guilt gnawing at him as he saw the pain etched on everyone’s faces over Joseph. His own tears stung with remorse, but he believed it was a good plan--a necessary one to win your trust, your love. He hadn’t wanted to be so heartless, to poison his own child, but he felt he had no choice. Being Ezra’s doormat for so long had worn him down. And for once, watching Ezra in distress was so worth it. Amir couldn’t help but relish every moment.

(AN: OmG, Amir really turned dark, the poor innocent boi. Look how Ezra massacred my boy)

[mrsfancyferrari]

Timeless Desire

Summary: You had always been Mercedes fan since you were young and it didn't change when you became Max's best friend. Based on British Grand Prix.

Song: Me and Your Mama - Childish Gambino

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <33

Word count: 12.6k

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

You had always been a Mercedes fan since you were young, and it hadn't changed when you became Max Verstappen's best friend. The British Grand Prix had always been a special occasion for you, being a Brit yourself.

This time, however, you decided to wear your signed Mercedes shirt to the paddock, attracting a lot of attention.

As you walked into the paddock, you could feel the eyes of the public on you, a mix of curiosity and admiration. The atmosphere was electric, with fans and team members bustling around, preparing for the big race.

You caught a few whispers and nods of recognition, some even pointing at your shirt with approving smiles. It felt surreal to be in the midst of such excitement, wearing the symbol of your childhood dreams.

Max spotted you from across the paddock and made his way over, a grin spreading across his face as he saw the shirt. "Are you ready for me to win again?" he said with a wink, clapping you on the back.

"Not in a million years Maxie," You replied, nudging your shoulders to his.

Being here, surrounded by the roar of the engines and the energy of the fans, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of belonging.

You followed Max to the Red Bull garage, your Mercedes shirt still drawing a few curious stares from the Red Bull staff. Most of them were used to seeing you around, though, and had long accepted your unwavering loyalty to Mercedes.

The mechanics were busy fine-tuning Max's car, their focus undeterred by your presence. As you stood there, you could feel the palpable tension and anticipation in the air, a reminder of how high the stakes were for everyone involved.

Max chatted with his engineers, occasionally glancing back at you with a playful smirk. You knew he thrived on the friendly rivalry between the two of you. Despite the different team colors, the camaraderie and mutual respect you shared with Max and the Red Bull crew were undeniable.

It was moments like these that made you appreciate the sport even more, knowing that beneath the fierce competition, there was a deep bond that transcended team allegiances.

As Max was engrossed in a conversation with his team, you decided to take advantage of the moment and slip away for a while.

You couldn't miss out on the chance to connect with other like-minded individuals. The other wives of girlfriends of the drivers welcomed you into their circle.

"So what's the story behind the Mercedes shirt?" Rebecca asked curiously.

"Oh I'm just a big fan of Mercedes, especially Lewis Hamilton," you explained with a smile.

"While dating Max Verstappen? That must be hard to do," Lily Muni commented.

You blushed, taken aback by her comment. "Oh, no, Max and I are just friends," you quickly clarified, feeling a bit flustered.

Rebecca and Lily exchanged glances, clearly still intrigued, but they let the subject drop as the conversation shifted to other topics.

In your thoughts, you couldn't help but replay Lily's comment. The idea of dating Max had never crossed your mind in a serious way; your bond was built on years of shared experiences and a mutual love for racing.

Yet, the notion lingered, making you question if perhaps there was more beneath the surface of your friendship.

You had such strong feelings for Max, but you were terrified of rejection.

He's the 3-time world champion, a true legend of the sport. How could someone like you ever have a chance with someone as incredible as him? He's so talented, so successful, and you were just an ordinary person. The thought of opening your heart to him only to be turned away is enough to fill you with dread.

Part of you wishes you could just ignore these feelings, but they're impossible to deny. Every time you see him race, your heart skips a beat.

He's so captivating, so mesmerizing. You know deep down that you two could be amazing together, but the risk of rejection is too much to bear. You’d have to be content admiring him from afar, as much as that pains you. He's simply out of your league.

You had to rush back to the Red Bull garage to give Max at least some of your good luck while the rest was left for the Mercedes drivers.

You gave him a quick hug and told him, "Go easy on them will you?"

Max smirked and said, "Never in a million years."

You watched as Max got into his race car and drove off to the starting line. The atmosphere was electric, with the roar of the engines and the cheers of the crowd filling the air.

You then made your way over to the area where the celebrities were gathered, eager to catch a glimpse of the famous faces. As you mingled with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement.

Whenever George, Lando or Hamilton were out on the track, you joined the throngs of fans in cheering them on, your voice adding to the cacophony of support that echoed through the circuit.

Jenson Button approached me, eager to know whom I was supporting at the British Grand Prix. "Excuse me, Y/N L/N. Can I have a moment of your time for a small interview?" he asked politely.

“Sure, I don’t mind!” You yelled over to the cars that had passed by where you were with speed for overtaking each other.

"I noticed you seem quite invested in the race today. Who are you rooting for?" He asked.

You turned to face the legendary Formula One driver, a smile spreading across your face. "Well, Jenson, I've always been a fan of Lewis Hamilton. The way he navigates those tight corners and pushes the limits of his car is truly inspiring. But I have to say, I'm also keeping a close eye on George Russell. He's been putting in some remarkable performances lately, and I wouldn't be surprised to see him on the podium today."

Jenson nodded thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Ah, yes, George did get podium in Austria. It's been great to see him come into his own this season. And of course, Lewis is always a force to be reckoned with on his home turf."

He paused, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Tell me, who do you think has the best chance of taking the chequered flag on Sunday?"

You turned around, revealing the word "Lewis Hamilton" written on your shirt in bold, striking letters. "I guess my shirt says it all," you laughed.

"Lewis has an incredible track record here at Silverstone, and I believe his experience and skill will give him the edge this weekend. But honestly, in racing, anything can happen, and that's what makes it so thrilling."

Jenson grinned, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. "Well, it looks like you're all set for a fantastic race day. Enjoy the rest of the Grand Prix, and may the best driver win!"

With that, he gave you a friendly nod and moved on to the next eager fan. You turned back to the track, heart pounding with anticipation, ready to cheer on your favorites as they battled it out on one of the most iconic circuits in the world.

Not long after Jenson moved on, you spotted Max Verstappen exiting his car after the first practice session. He looked focused but relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips as he made his way toward the garage.

Seizing the opportunity, you approached him. "Max, you were incredible out there! How are you feeling about the car's performance today?" you asked.

Max turned to you, his eyes bright with determination. "Thanks! The car felt really good, especially through the high-speed corners. We've made a few tweaks since the last race, and it seems to be paying off," he said with a nod.

"But there's still a lot of work to do, and we need to make sure everything's perfect for qualifying tomorrow." His gaze shifted back to the track, the competitive fire clearly evident.

"That's great to hear," you replied, excitement evident in your voice. "I'm sure you and the team will nail it. Best of luck for the qualifying session—I'll be rooting for you!"

Max chuckled, his grin widening. "I know you're actually rooting for Lewis, so don't try and convince me," he said, playfully pointing at your shirt before walking back to his team.

You chuckled, caught off guard by his playful comment, but you couldn't help but admire his confidence. As he disappeared into the garage, you turned your attention back to the track, eager for the next glimpse of racing action.

Realizing this was the perfect moment to engage with your followers, you quickly pulled out your phone and started a video.

"Hey everyone, I'm here at Silverstone, and it's absolutely electric! I just had an amazing chat with Max Verstappen, who seems really confident about the car's performance today."

With the camera still rolling, you began to walk around the paddock, capturing the vibrant atmosphere. "Look at this crowd! The energy here is just unbelievable. Stay tuned, because I'll be sharing more exclusive content, interviews, and updates throughout the Grand Prix. Make sure to follow and hit that notification bell so you don't miss a thing!"

You ended the video with a smile, feeling thrilled to share this unforgettable experience with your followers.

The paddock buzzed with activity, mechanics tirelessly working on cars while the air was filled with the sound of revving engines and excited chatter. Colorful team banners and flags fluttered in the breeze, adding to the vibrant spectacle.

The aroma of fuel and tire rubber mingled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from nearby stalls, creating an intoxicating blend that awakens all your senses.

You decided to wander around the paddock until the second practice session started, eager to soak in every bit of the atmosphere. As you strolled past the various team garages, you couldn't help but marvel at the precision and dedication of the crew members.

Each mechanic moved with purpose, their focus unwavering as they fine-tuned the cars for optimal performance. The occasional cheer erupted from fans who managed to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers, adding to the palpable excitement in the air.

Pausing at a merchandise stall, you took a moment to browse through the array of team hats, shirts, and memorabilia. The vendor’s enthusiastic pitch and the sight of fans proudly donning their favorite team's colors made you smile.

With a new Mercedes cap in hand, you continued your exploration, eventually finding a spot near the track with a clear view of the action.

Settling in, you glanced at your watch, counting down the minutes until the second practice session began, anticipation building with every passing second. . . . .

The second practice session had come to an exhilarating end, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as the leaderboard displayed Lando Norris’s name at the top. Seeing a Brit in first place put a broad smile on your face, a sentiment echoed by the cheers of the crowd around you.

The young driver's impressive performance had not only captured the hearts of the local fans but also ignited a sense of optimism for the upcoming race.

As the teams began to pack up their equipment and the drivers headed back to their motorhomes, you reflected on the day's events. The energy, the passion, and the sheer love for the sport were palpable, making you even more excited for what lay ahead.

You knew Max Verstappen wasn’t thrilled with his results today; the frustration was evident in his body language as he walked past the garage. Deciding it was best to give him some space, you chose to head back to your apartment on your own.

The cool evening breeze accompanied you as you made your way through the bustling streets, the excitement of the new day still lingering in the air.

Back at the apartment, you kicked off your shoes and sank into the couch, the day’s events replaying in your mind. The roar of the engines, the fervor of the crowd, and the sheer thrill of the race had left an indelible mark on you.

Your mind drifted back to the moment you saw Max Verstappen walk past the garage. His usually composed demeanor was replaced with visible frustration; sweat clung to his brow and his hair was tousled, a stark contrast to his usual neat appearance.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for him. Racing was as much a mental game as it was a physical one, and today had clearly taken its toll on him.

As you sank deeper into the couch, you recalled the intensity in Max's eyes, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the team's expectations on his shoulders. It wasn't just about winning; it was about pride, about proving himself in the face of fierce competition.

His messy hair and worn-out look were a testament to the effort he poured into every lap.

You found yourself silently rooting for him, hoping that tomorrow would bring him better results and the sense of accomplishment he so clearly desired.

Just as you were deep in thought about Max, your phone buzzed, pulling you back to the present. Glancing at the screen, you saw his name flash across it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, but quickly answered.

"Hey," you said softly, trying to gauge his mood.

"Hey," he replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I just... I needed to talk to someone. It's been a rough day."

You could hear the weariness in his voice, the frustration still lingering. "Of course, Max," you responded, your tone gentle and supportive. "Today was tough, but you're an incredible driver. You've got what it takes to bounce back."

There was a brief pause before he spoke again, "Thanks. I just needed to hear that. Tomorrow’s a new day, right?"

You smiled, "Absolutely. Get some rest, and let's see you take on the track with that unstoppable spirit of yours."

"Thanks, I'll come pick you up in the morning at the same time as today, is that alright?" Max asked, his voice sounding a bit lighter now.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, relieved to hear a hint of optimism returning to his tone. "Get some rest, Max. Tomorrow's another chance to shine."

After ending the call, you set your phone down and took a deep breath, feeling a mix of concern and hope for Max.

You decided to make yourself a cup of tea, hoping the warmth would help settle your thoughts. As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind.

As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind. The warmth in Max's voice was something rare, a side of him that few got to witness.

It stirred something deep within you, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach at the thought. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, tonight he had reached out to you, revealing a vulnerability that made you feel closer to him than ever before.

You let the warmth of the tea seep into you, calming your nerves while your thoughts raced. The connection you felt with Max tonight was undeniable, and it left you wondering about the deeper layers of his character.

Tomorrow, when he picked you up, you hoped to see that same spark of warmth in his eyes, a sign that he was ready to face the challenges ahead with renewed vigor.

Until then, you allowed yourself to bask in the glow of this newfound closeness, feeling a sense of hope and anticipation for the days to come. . . .

The next day arrived faster than you had anticipated, and before you knew it, the alarm was blaring in your ear. Groggy and disoriented, you realized with a start that you had overslept.

Panic set in as you hurriedly got ready, grabbing another Lewis Hamilton shirt and a Mercedes hat for some much-needed shade. You barely had time to brush your hair before Max would be at your doorstep.

You quickly brushed your teeth, splashed some water on your face, and dashed out the door, your heart pounding not just from the hurry but from the anticipation of seeing him again.

Rushing down the stairs, you hoped that your tardiness wouldn't dampen Max’s newly found optimism. As you stepped outside, you saw his car approaching, and a wave of relief washed over you.

The moment you climbed into the car, Max greeted you with a smile that was both reassuring and genuine. "Ready for today?" he asked, and you couldn’t help but feel that, despite the rocky start, everything was going to be just fine.

"Absolutely," you replied with a grin, trying to mask the flutter of nerves still lingering from your rushed morning. "Let's make it a great day."

Max's smile widened, and you felt a surge of confidence as the car pulled away from the curb, setting the course for whatever lay ahead.

The both of you arrived at the paddock at the usual time, the familiar hum of activity already filling the air. Mechanics were bustling about, engineers deep in conversation, and the distinctive scent of fuel and rubber permeated the space.

You used your paddock pass to enter the gate, feeling a sense of belonging as you navigated through the organized chaos. Max walked beside you, his presence steady and comforting.

As you approached the garage, you couldn’t help but notice the way the team members greeted Max with a newfound respect. It was as if the previous night's vulnerability had transformed him in their eyes as well.

He exchanged quick words with the crew, his tone confident and determined. You caught his eye, and he flashed you a quick, reassuring smile.

Since there was still time before the third practice race, you and Max decided to walk around the paddock. The bustling atmosphere of the Formula One paddock was electric, with teams of engineers and mechanics scurrying about, fine-tuning their cars for the upcoming sessions.

As you and Max strolled through the maze of garages, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The sights and sounds of the sport you both loved so dearly were all around you, and you knew that the real action was just moments away.

The two of you exchanged excited glances, each of you eager to see what the day had in store.

Then in the distance, you saw Lewis Hamilton getting interviewed by Jenson Button and other journalists. Hamilton's outfit exuded a sense of style and sophistication that perfectly complemented his status as a Formula One superstar.

Dressed in a tailored charcoal grey suit, Hamilton looked sharp and modern. The slim-fit jacket accentuated his athletic build, while the crisp white shirt and slim-cut trousers gave him a polished, contemporary look. Finishing off the ensemble were a pair of sleek black leather dress shoes, lending an air of elegance to his overall appearance.

Hamilton's fashion choices demonstrated his keen eye for detail and his ability to effortlessly blend high performance sportswear with high-end formal attire, solidifying his reputation as one of the most stylish personalities in the world of motorsports.

Jenson and Lewis paused their conversation as their eyes fell upon you and Max. Their faces lit up with genuine smiles, and Jenson waved enthusiastically, beckoning you over. The camera crew shifted slightly to accommodate the new dynamic, capturing the camaraderie between the drivers.

"Hey, you two!" Jenson called out. "Come join us for a bit!" The invitation was casual yet filled with warmth, a testament to the close-knit community within the paddock.

"Are you coming?" you whispered to Max and he shook his head, understanding completely.

It would be too early in the morning for him to be hammered with questions with the 7th World Champion.

You made your way over, exchanging nods and greetings with the crew along the way.

As you joined the small circle, Lewis extended his arms for a friendly hug. The warmth of his embrace was a welcome respite from the chill of the evening air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging in that moment.

His firm yet gentle grip conveyed a genuine affection that put you at ease, reminding you of the strong bond you shared.

The hug lasted just long enough to feel comforting, without becoming overbearing. As you pulled away, you caught a glimpse of the genuine smile that spread across Lewis' face, his eyes twinkling with genuine delight at your arrival.

"Good to see you again Y/N," he said, his voice carrying the same charm as his attire.

"Same to you Lewis," you replied with a grin on your face after meeting your idol.

You two have met before and every time Max would be with you but he would let you speak for the both of you.

"You know, we've seen some viral rumors going around about the two of you," Jenson stated, his tone playful yet curious. "Your faces look very similar," he added, prompting nods of agreement from the surrounding interviewers.

You chuckled, glancing over at Lewis, who seemed equally amused. "Yeah, I've heard that one before," Lewis said with a grin. "People always think we're related or something."

"I would be lucky to have you as my dad," you replied, your tone light-hearted but sincere. The surrounding crew chuckled, and Lewis laughed warmly, patting you on the back.

"Well, if I had a kid as cool as you, I'd be the lucky one," he responded, his eyes sparkling with genuine affection.

"You know, I was in high school when you won your first world championship," you said, reminiscing about the early days of his career. Lewis raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh, come on now, Y/N. That makes me feel ancient," he replied, still grinning.

Jenson joined in, adding, "Well, there's no denying the resemblance. Maybe you two should do a DNA test just for fun." The suggestion elicited more laughter, and you shrugged, playing along.

"Who knows, maybe we’ll find out we’re long-lost family," you joked, feeling the camaraderie and light-heartedness of the moment.

Jenson leaned in, clearly enjoying the banter. "So, Y/N, any plans to follow in our footsteps and join the racing world?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged with a smile, "Who knows? Maybe one day. For now, I'm just enjoying the ride and learning from the best."

Lewis smiled warmly before patting your shoulder. "That's the spirit, Y/N. Keep learning and who knows where you'll end up," he encouraged.

The crew continued to chat and laugh, the atmosphere buzzing with energy and camaraderie.

Jenson looked back at Max, who was still waiting patiently. "Let's not keep Max Verstappen waiting any longer and let you go," he said with a grin. "But before you leave, who are you rooting for to win on Sunday?"

You grinned and turned to the camera, proudly showing off your shirt which had Lewis Hamilton's name and number emblazoned on it.

"Of course, for my favorite driver, Lewis Hamilton," you declared with enthusiasm. The crew erupted in cheers and applause, clearly appreciating your loyalty.

Lewis laughed heartily, shaking his head. "Well, it's good to know I've got such a dedicated fan in you, Y/N," he said, his eyes twinkling with gratitude. "Just make sure you keep cheering loudly; I might need that extra bit of support on Sunday."

You nodded eagerly, feeling the warmth of the moment as Jenson wrapped up the interview.

When he unexpectedly reached out and signed your Mercedes cap and shirt, you were utterly starstruck and overcome with a profound sense of awe.

The surreal experience of having the coveted autograph of your revered idol permanently emblazoned upon your personal item is a feeling that will undoubtedly be etched into your memory, to be cherished and fondly recalled for years to come.

This tangible connection to your admired public figure has elevated the cap and the shirt from a mere article of clothing into a prized possession, imbued with deep personal significance that will serve as a lasting reminder of this incredible, once-in-a-lifetime moment.

"Thank you guys for making me meet my dad," you joked as you handed your microphone to a staff member. The crew burst into laughter, and even Lewis couldn't help but chuckle at your playful remark.

"Good luck, Dad!" you said as you walked away from the group, grinning from ear to ear. The crew's laughter continued to echo behind you, and Lewis gave a final wave, still smiling at your endearing humor.

"Thanks, kid," Lewis said back, still smiling warmly. You felt a rush of pride as you walked away, knowing that this incredible moment would stay with you forever. The excitement of the day left you feeling like you were walking on air, already anticipating the thrilling race ahead.

Max then joined you halfway as you two walked together behind the group. "That was quite the interaction," he remarked, glancing at the freshly signed cap in your hands. "I think you just made everyone in the crew a little jealous."

You chuckled, still riding the high of the unforgettable experience. "It feels like a dream. I mean, meeting Lewis Hamilton and getting his autograph? It's surreal," you replied, your voice bubbling with excitement.

Max raised an eyebrow playfully, “Would you be this excited if I gave you a signed Red Bull hat?”

You laughed, glancing at him, “Of course, Max! But you know, nothing beats meeting your hero.”

Max smirked, shaking his head with a mock sigh, “Guess I’ll have to step up my game then.”

"Well, Max, you'll have to start by winning a few more championships," you teased, nudging him lightly. He laughed, playfully rolling his eyes.

"But seriously, Max, you're my second hero too," you admitted with a grin, making him laugh and shake his head.

As you both entered the Red Bull garage, the familiar hum of activity and the scent of burning rubber welcomed you, amplifying your anticipation for the race ahead.

"These are the only times I've actually seen Max laugh this week," Jenson commented, overhearing the lighthearted exchange.

Lewis smiled warmly at the remark, clearly pleased to see such camaraderie. "Well, it looks like she's got the magic touch on Max," Lewis said, giving you a nod of approval.

Jenson chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It's true, she's got a way of bringing out the best in all of us," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Maybe we should keep her around for good luck," he added, glancing at Lewis with a grin. . . .

The results from the third practice session of the British Grand Prix left you utterly astonished. The top three positions were dominated by British drivers: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, and George Russell.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as the names flashed up on the leaderboard, and you could feel the electricity in the air. The excitement was palpable, and the entire paddock buzzed with a mix of admiration and determination.

As you and Alexandra absorbed the results, you couldn't help but feel a surge of national pride mixed with the competitive spirit that coursed through the paddock.

"Three Brits at the top—who would've thought?" Alex mused, glancing at the screen.

"It's going to be one heck of a race," you replied, a grin spreading across your face.

The anticipation for Sunday's race grew stronger, knowing that this unexpected turn of events had set the stage for an epic showdown on the Silverstone circuit.

As the final practice session concluded, you made your way back to the garage, where Max was already debriefing with his engineers. His expression was a mix of frustration and determination, clearly unsatisfied with his fourth-place finish.

You could sense the tension in the air as he ran a hand through his hair, listening intently to the feedback. "Fourth place again," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched.

You approached him carefully, offering a supportive smile. "Hey, Max, don't be too hard on yourself. The race is still ahead, and anything can happen," you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, his eyes softening slightly. "I know, but it's just frustrating," he admitted, exhaling deeply.

"We'll figure it out," you replied confidently. "You've got the skills and the team behind you—we'll get there."

Max’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, the tension in his posture easing. Without warning, he pulled you into a big, tight hug, a gesture of gratitude and camaraderie.

"Thanks," he whispered into your shoulder, his voice barely audible over the buzz of the garage. "I needed that."

You patted his back reassuringly, feeling the weight of his determination and the pressure he was under.

As he released you, he took a step back, his expression a bit lighter. "Alright, let me get to work before I get yelled at by the team," he joked, a renewed spark in his eyes.

You nodded, feeling a surge of optimism before letting him go. As Max turned back to his engineers, you couldn't help but admire his resilience and dedication. The garage was a hive of activity, the mechanics and engineers working tirelessly to fine-tune every detail for the upcoming race.

You knew that this was just the beginning, and that every effort counted towards the ultimate goal. The camaraderie and mutual support within the team were palpable, and it gave you confidence that they could overcome any obstacles.

Walking over to the pit wall, you glanced at the data screens, absorbing the information from the final practice session. The numbers told a story of fierce competition and the relentless pursuit of perfection.

As you watched the team dive into their preparations, you felt a sense of unity and purpose that transcended individual ambitions. The Silverstone circuit awaited, and with the collective strength and determination of the team, you believed they were ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

With the support of his team and the undeniable talent that Max possessed, you knew that the upcoming race would be anything but predictable.

Knowing that Max would likely pull an all-nighter to ensure everything was perfect, you decided to embrace a rare moment of relaxation and joined the girls for a much-needed night out.

The energy of the city was a stark contrast to the focused intensity of the garage, and you relished the chance to unwind and recharge. Laughter and conversation flowed freely as you and the girls caught up over dinner, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company.

"Lily, you should have seen Max today," you said, taking a sip of your drink. "He was so stressed but still managed to joke around. It's like he's made of steel."

Alexandra laughed, "You and Max, honestly, it's like watching a married couple. The way you two support each other is incredible."

Rebecca chimed in, "You both have that unspoken understanding. It's rare to see such a strong bond. Do you ever think about what it would be like if you two were actually together?"

You smiled, shaking your head. "Max and I are just really good friends. We've been through so much together, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

As the evening progressed, Lily leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, how are things going with Max? Seriously, the way you two finish each other's sentences is uncanny," she teased, nudging Alexandra.

Alexandra and Rebecca chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, it's like you guys have this secret language," Rebecca added, taking a sip of her wine.

You laughed, feeling a warm blush creep up your cheeks. "I think that just happens when you're good friends with someone," you protested lightly. "But honestly, I think it's just because we've been through so much together with the team. It's hard not to get close when you're in the thick of it all."

The girls exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening.

As the night progressed, you felt the stress and tension of the past weeks melt away. Dancing under the colorful lights of the club, you allowed yourself to be fully present in the moment, soaking in the joy and camaraderie of your friends.

Though your mind occasionally drifted back to the team and the upcoming race, you knew that moments like these were essential for maintaining balance and perspective.

The music in the club was a pulsating mix of deep bass and energetic beats, creating an infectious rhythm that made it impossible to stay still.

The DJ seamlessly blended popular hits with classic dance anthems, keeping the energy high and the dance floor packed. Every now and then, a familiar tune would spark cheers from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere of the night.

You tried to forget about tomorrow by dancing your heart out, losing yourself in the music and the laughter of your friends.

Each beat seemed to sync with your heartbeat, pushing away the lingering worries and stress about the upcoming race. The colored lights flashed around you, casting a vibrant glow on the faces of those you loved most.

Alexandra pulled you into a carefree spin, her laughter ringing out like a melody of its own, while Rebecca's enthusiastic dance moves encouraged everyone around her to join in the fun.

As the night wore on, you felt a sense of liberation, a temporary escape from the pressures that awaited you in the morning. The music, the lights, and the camaraderie wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.

You danced until your feet ached and your lungs burned from breathless laughter. In those precious hours, you allowed yourself to be free, knowing that the memories you were creating would fortify you for the challenges ahead. . . .

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╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

As you left the bathroom, a guy approached you with a confident smirk. "Hey there, having a good time?" he asked, stepping into your path.

You quickly pulled out your phone, pretending to check messages, but he wasn't deterred. "Come on, don't be like that," he persisted, reaching out and snatching the phone from your hands.

"Hey, give that back!" you exclaimed, your voice rising above the music. His grin widened as he held your phone just out of reach.

"Relax, I just wanted to talk," he said, but you could see the mischief in his eyes.

"Look, I'm just here to enjoy the night with my friends," you said firmly, trying to keep your cool. "Can you please give me my phone back?"

He chuckled and shook his head, still holding the phone out of reach. "Only if you promise to dance with me for one song," he countered, his eyes sparkling with playful determination.

"Look, I'm not interested," you replied firmly, trying to keep your cool despite the growing frustration. "Just give me my phone back."

"Why so serious?" he teased, leaning in closer. "I promise, I'm not a bad guy."

Suddenly, a fist landed against the man's face, and he staggered backward, releasing your phone. You looked over to see Max standing in front of you, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. Max was wearing a black leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt, his jeans slightly worn and his boots scuffed from countless adventures.

"Yeah, I'm fine now," you replied, clutching your phone tightly. The guy groaned, rubbing his jaw, but quickly decided to make himself scarce. "Thanks, Max. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up."

Max shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Don't mention it. No one messes with you." He glanced around, the lively atmosphere of the party resuming as if nothing had happened.

"Come on, let's get back to the others. I think Alexandra is about to challenge everyone to a dance-off."

Max had always been the one to look out for you, ever since you first met. His protective nature wasn't just about physical safety; it was about ensuring you felt secure and valued in every situation. Moments like these reminded you why you valued his friendship so deeply.

You smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you, before following Max over to where the girls were gathered. Alexandra was already hyping everyone up, her infectious energy drawing a crowd. The music thumped louder as she announced the start of the dance-off, and you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement.

"Hey, you're just in time!" Alexandra called out, her voice filled with excitement. "We're about to start the dance-off, and I need my best dancer by my side." You laughed, feeling the tension from earlier melt away.

Max stayed close by your side, his reassuring presence a constant comfort. As the dance-off began, you found yourself laughing and cheering on your friends, the earlier tension quickly fading away.

You start to move your body to the rhythm of the music, swaying your hips and tapping your feet. The beat pulses through you, and you let it guide your movements, flowing from one step to the next with a natural fluidity.

As the tempo picks up, you pick up the pace, your limbs moving with increasing energy and precision. You twirl and spin, your arms outstretched, feeling the music coursing through every inch of your being.

The world around you fades away as you become lost in the dance, your only focus being the rhythm that compels you to keep moving.

The crowd's cheers grew louder, a wave of encouragement that fueled your every move. You could hear your friends shouting your name, their voices blending with the music and creating an intoxicating mix of sound and energy.

Every clap, every cheer, every shout of encouragement pushed you to dance harder, to lose yourself even more in the rhythm. It was a feeling of pure exhilaration, a moment where nothing else mattered but the beat and the joy of movement.

As you executed a particularly challenging spin, the crowd erupted in applause. You caught a glimpse of Max, his eyes filled with pride and approval, and it spurred you on even further.

Your feet barely touched the ground as you performed intricate steps, each one met with more cheers and applause.

Alexandra joined in, her movements mirroring yours in a dazzling display of synchronicity. Together, you owned the dance floor, the world outside the party forgotten as you reveled in the collective energy and sheer delight of the dance-off.

"Alright, I think it's time for us to go," Max muttered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded, your body still buzzing from the adrenaline of the dance-off.

You said goodbye to the girls, their faces glowing with the same exhilaration that still coursed through your veins. They gave you knowing smiles, the kind that spoke of shared secrets and unforgettable moments.

"You were amazing out there," one of them said, pulling you into a quick hug. The others nodded in agreement, their eyes twinkling with pride and admiration.

It was a night that would be etched into your memories, a night where you felt truly alive and connected.

As you made your way through the crowd, you could feel the lingering energy of the night, the music and laughter still echoing in your ears.

"Did you have fun?" Max asked, his hand gently squeezing yours.

"Absolutely," you replied with a smile. "I needed this. Thanks for being here with me."

"Always," he said, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "Now let's get you home."

As you and Max made your way out of the venue, the cool night air hit your skin, a refreshing contrast to the heat and energy inside.

He led you to where his car was parked, a few blocks away from the lively venue. The city's lights shimmered around you, creating a magical ambiance that seemed to extend the evening's enchantment.

Max opened the passenger door for you, his gentlemanly gesture making you smile. As you settled into the seat, you took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs and calming your racing heart.

Max slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the soft hum of the car a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. The streets were quieter now, the hustle and bustle of the night giving way to a peaceful stillness.

As he drove, you glanced over at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights.

A sense of gratitude washed over you, not just for the incredible night but for the unwavering presence of someone who understood you so deeply.

The road stretched ahead, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of contentment and peace.

The cityscape gradually transitioned from the vibrant glow of downtown to the quieter, tree-lined neighborhoods.

Streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the occasional passerby strolled under the canopy of autumn leaves. The serene streets, dotted with quaint shops and cafes, seemed to whisper stories of their own, adding to the magic of the night.

You didn’t hear when the car stopped or when Max got out of his seat to come to your side, but you felt a touch on your shoulder, gentle and reassuring.

"Hey," he said softly, "we're here." His voice pulled you out of your reverie, and you looked up to see him holding your door open, a kind smile on his face.

"Sorry, I must have zoned out," you said, stepping out of the car and into the crisp night air. Max chuckled, "No worries. It looks like tonight wore you out in the best way possible."

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you. "It did. Thanks again, Max, for everything." He squeezed your hand gently, "Anytime. Let's get you inside and cozy."

As you walked towards your front door, the porch light casting a welcoming glow, you realized just how much nights like these meant to you.

You unlocked the door and Max and you walked inside. The house was quiet and peaceful, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the day. As you closed the door behind the both of you, you felt the tension in your shoulders start to melt away.

Max immediately made himself at home, bounding over to his favorite spot on the couch and curling up with a contented sigh. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him settle in, grateful for the simple joy of being back in your comfortable space.

You followed him and sat right beside him, cuddling him. Max laughs, "How much did you have to drink?"

"Not much, just tired now," you mumbled.

Your body felt heavy, and you couldn't resist the urge to snuggle up against Max. The warmth of his presence was comforting, and you felt a sense of safety and contentment in his company.

"Hey, you know, my friends have been asking me a lot lately about...well, about us. They keep wondering if we're, you know, actually just friends or if there's something more going on," you said, feeling a slight blush creep onto your cheeks.

He looked at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Your friends, huh? What do you tell them?" he asked, his voice soft and curious.

You averted your gaze, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. "I...I tell them that we're just friends. But, I don't know, sometimes I wonder if they're right. I mean, are we really just friends?" you admitted, your heart racing.

He was silent for a moment, and you could feel the tension building between you two. "Well, I...I guess that's up to us to decide, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help but glance at him, your gaze involuntarily drawn to his captivating presence. His striking appearance and commanding aura made it nearly impossible to look away, even for a moment.

Your eyes met briefly, locking in a charged, fleeting connection that sent a flutter of shyness rippling through your chest.

Despite your best efforts to avert your eyes, you found yourself repeatedly drawn back to him, mesmerized by his alluring and magnetic persona.

"I notice you looking," he replied, his voice soft and teasing.

"I... I didn't mean to stare, I just..." Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right thing to say.

He smiled reassuringly. "It's alright, I don't mind." There was a warmth in his tone that put you at ease. "I'm glad you can look at me."

You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you ducked your head, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "I'm sorry, I... I'm not usually this shy," you stammered.

"No need to apologize," he said gently. "I find your shyness quite endearing. Your drunk side is definitely cuter,”

You felt your cheeks flush even deeper at his compliment, a mix of embarrassment and delight swirling within you. You managed a small, shy smile, peeking up at him through your lashes.

"Thanks, Max," you murmured, your heart fluttering at his words.

As you stood there, the silence between you two thickening, you heard Max mutter something under his breath. Though you couldn't catch everything, you distinctly heard the words, "you'll be the death of me."

You chose not to comment on it, unsure if you had heard correctly or if your mind was playing tricks on you. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken emotions, making your pulse quicken.

A moment later, Max took a deep breath and stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice low and filled with intensity. The proximity of his presence made your heart race even faster, each beat echoing in your ears.

You could feel the weight of his words settling over you, making it clear that you were no longer just friends standing on the edge of something much deeper.

Deciding to be brave for once, you took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on. "Max, I... I think there's something more here than just friendship. Maybe we should talk about it, figure out what this really is," you said, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to convey your sincerity.

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his, and the simple gesture sent a wave of warmth through you. "I've been wanting to talk about it too," he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. "But you're too drunk to talk about it."

Max then stood up and said, "And it's past both our bedtime," he gave his hand out, "Do you need help?" You looked at his extended hand, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand in his.

The warmth of his touch was comforting, and you nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Yeah, I think I do," you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

As he helped you to your feet, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness about what the future held for the two of you. "We'll talk about this tomorrow, when we're both clear-headed," he promised, his eyes filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

You nodded in agreement, feeling grateful for the moment of clarity.

"Goodnight, Max," you whispered.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.

As you made your way to your room, your mind buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions. You felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, the weight of unspoken feelings finally acknowledged.

Lying in bed, you couldn't help but replay the night's events, wondering what tomorrow would bring for you and Max. . . . .

╔═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╗

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

The next morning, you woke up with a slight throbbing in your head, the kind that comes from having one too many drinks the night before. Groaning, you rubbed your temples and tried to piece together the fragments of last night.

Bits and pieces floated back to you—laughter, the warmth of Max's hand, and something about a conversation that felt important. But the details were fuzzy, like trying to remember a dream that was slipping away with each passing second.

As you stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water, you found yourself wondering about the look in Max's eyes and the words he had said. The clarity from last night was now a blur, leaving you with a nagging sense that something significant had occurred.

You couldn't shake the feeling that today might bring some answers, and perhaps a chance to finally address the feelings that had been simmering just below the surface.

You decided to dress casually, slipping into another Mercedes shirt, this one adorned with a signature from Lewis Hamilton that you'd gotten a long time ago. The familiar fabric brought back memories of excitement and admiration, moments when you felt invincible.

Topping off your outfit with the same Mercedes hat from yesterday, you hoped the attire would give you a boost of confidence for whatever the day had in store.

As you made your way to the living room, you couldn't help but think about Max and the conversation from the night before. The anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race, and you hoped that today would bring some much-needed clarity.

With each step, you felt a mixture of hope and apprehension, but one thing was certain—you were ready to face whatever came next, no matter how daunting it seemed.

A gentle knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your heart skipped a beat. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find Max standing there, his familiar smile instantly putting you at ease.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read your mind. The sight of him brought a rush of both relief and nervous energy, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey, Max," you replied, stepping aside to let him in. As he entered, you both knew that the conversation from last night needed to be revisited, the unspoken feelings demanding attention.

Max glanced around your living room before turning to face you, his expression serious yet gentle. "You're a bit early today," you began, and he nodded.

"I just wanted to make sure you were good after yesterday," Max stated, concern evident in his voice. He took a cautious step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

You shook your head, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "No, it's all a bit of a blur. I remember us talking, but the details are fuzzy. What did I say, Max?"

The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you could see Max weighing his words carefully.

He took a deep breath before replying, "We talked about a lot of things—your feelings, my feelings, and everything we've been holding back. I think it's important we address it now, while it's still fresh."

You glanced at the clock on the wall and your eyes widened in realization. "Max, if we start this conversation now, we're going to be late for work," you said, biting your lip. The weight of the moment was palpable, but the practical concern loomed large.

Max followed your gaze to the clock and sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," he admitted reluctantly, "but we can't keep pushing this off. How about we talk after the race? We can't let this hang over us any longer."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief that there was a plan in place. "Okay, after the race it is," you agreed, grabbing your keys and heading for the door.

Max smiled appreciatively, and together, you walked out, knowing that the conversation was merely postponed, not avoided.

You walked to his car, the tension between you both a silent passenger. The drive felt quick, a blur of city streets and morning light, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking the silence.

Max's hand occasionally brushed yours on the gear shift, each touch a reminder of the conversation that awaited. As the racetrack came into view, a sense of urgency replaced the earlier calm, the reality of the day ahead crashing down.

Before you could fully prepare yourself, you were swarmed by the paparazzi, their cameras flashing and questions flying. Max tightened his grip on your hand, guiding you through the chaos with a protective determination.

"Just stay close," he whispered, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. You nodded, squeezing his hand back, feeling a mix of gratitude and apprehension.

You two safely made it to the Red Bull garage, Max's annoyance palpable as he helped you regain your balance after tripping over a persistent paparazzo. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration but softened by concern.

You nodded, brushing off the embarrassment as best you could, and took a deep breath to steady yourself. The bustling activity of the garage—mechanics fine-tuning cars, engineers analyzing data—provided a temporary distraction from the looming conversation.

Max's jaw tightened as he tried to shake off the earlier chaos. "Let's focus on the race for now," you said, your eyes scanning the garage for any more paparazzi. "You'll need all your concentration if you're going to pull this off."

You gave him a reassuring smile, determined to support him through the day.

The air buzzed with anticipation and energy, but despite the noise and activity, the unresolved emotions between you two lingered, a quiet storm waiting to be addressed.

"Max, you've got this," you said, giving him a quick, encouraging nod before stepping away. He returned the nod, his eyes briefly softening before hardening with focus.

You left Max to focus on his preparations, giving him a supportive pat on the back before making your way through the crowded garage.

Miraculously, you managed to avoid the paparazzi and found Alexandra near the hospitality area, her eyes lighting up as she saw you.

"Hey, Alex," you greeted her. Your voice was a mix of relief and anticipation.

"There you are," she said with a relieved smile. "I was starting to worry they'd swallow you whole!"

"I thought so too, I don't know why they acted like that," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I think it was because of yesterday," Alexandra commented, her expression growing serious. "The rumors about you and Max really stirred things up."

"What rumors?" you asked, your heart skipping a beat.

Alexandra sighed, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "There's talk that you and Max are more than just friends, and it's got everyone buzzing," she explained, her eyes filled with both concern and curiosity.

"They got a glimpse of you and Max leaving the club holding hands, so they just assumed you two were dating," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your cheeks flushed as the memories of the previous night flooded back, the moment innocent but easily misconstrued. "Great, just what we needed before the big race," you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

"Is it true?" Alexandra asked, her eyes searching yours for any hint of the truth. You hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on you. "No, well... I don't think so,"

You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your face. "We're going to talk about it after the race. There's just too much going on right now to sort it out."

Alexandra nodded slowly, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. "I can see how things could get complicated," she murmured, glancing back towards the garage where Max was still preparing.

"Just make sure you both have a clear head for the race. The last thing you need is this drama distracting you."

You sighed, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Alex. We'll figure it out one way or another," you said, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "Right now, we need to focus on the task at hand."

Alexandra nodded, her face softening with understanding. "I get it. Just make sure you two sort it out. It’s important for both of your sakes, especially with so much at stake today."

She paused, then added, "And remember, I'm here if you need to talk or just need some support. We've got your back, no matter what."

"Thanks, Alex. That means a lot," you replied, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. You stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, needing the reassurance of a friend's support in this whirlwind of confusion.

She hugged you back tightly, whispering, "You've got this," before stepping back and giving you a determined look.

As you both pulled away, you glanced around the bustling garage, the sound of engines roaring and mechanics shouting orders filling the air. "Let's get through today first," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the confidence you didn't quite feel. "After the race, I'll sit down with Max and we'll clear everything up."

Alexandra gave you a firm nod, her eyes reflecting her belief in you. "Good. And remember, whatever happens, we're a team. We'll get through this together," she said, before turning back to her duties, leaving you with a renewed sense of determination.

You walked back into the Red Bull garage, weaving through the busy crew members and the organized chaos. Spotting Max near his car, you took a deep breath and approached him.

"Hey Max," you called out, trying to mask any lingering anxiety. He looked up from his preparations, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of curiosity and concern.

"Hey," he replied, looking away from his car to glance at you. "Everything is okay?"

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just wanted to wish you good luck. Let's focus on the race and leave everything else for later."

Max's expression softened, and he gave you a reassuring nod. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks," he said, giving you a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, I forgot to do something," Max said, grabbing something from the nearby table. You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was referring to.

Before you could ask, he reached over and took off your Mercedes hat, replacing it with a Red Bull one. "There," he said with a grin, "now you're properly dressed for the occasion."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. "Thanks, Max. I guess I did need a little wardrobe adjustment," you replied, adjusting the new hat on your head. "Just remember, no matter what happens out there today, we're in this together."

Max nodded, his expression serious but supportive. "You're just saying that because you got 'adopted' by your idol," he teased, extending his hand for a firm handshake.

"Exactly! You'll have to call me Y/N Hamilton now," you smirked, joining in with the handshake.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Never in my life will I ever call you that Y/N, you know that already."

Just then, a crew member signaled to Max that it was time to get ready for the race. Max glanced at his watch and nodded, turning back to you with a determined look. "Alright, I have to go now. But remember, we'll talk after the race, okay?" he said, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

You nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and support. "Good luck out there, Max. Give it your all," you urged, stepping back to let him head towards his car. Max flashed you a final grin before heading off, his focus shifting entirely to the task at hand.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and camaraderie. The roar of engines filled the air, signaling the start of an intense competition.

You took a deep breath, knowing that whatever the outcome, the bond you shared with Max and the team would only grow stronger.

Throughout the day, you mingled with the fans, soaking up the atmosphere and excitement. As the race began, you cheered for Hamilton, hoping for a victory for your home country.

The event kicked off with a thrilling qualifying session, where Lewis Hamilton and George Russell of Mercedes secured the top two positions, narrowly edging out the young sensation Lando Norris of McLaren. Max Verstappen qualified fourth, setting the stage for an intense battle at the front of the grid.

As the lights went out, Hamilton made a perfect start, maintaining his lead into the first corner. Norris and Verstappen engaged in a fierce fight for second place, with the Dutchman eventually managing to make a bold move and take the position.

The race was filled with intense on-track action, as the drivers pushed their cars to the limit on the iconic Silverstone circuit. Oscar and Carlos fought their way through the field, making impressive overtakes and fighting for a podium finish.

Hamilton managed to hold onto his lead, with Verstappen and Norris in close pursuit. The battle for victory came down to the final laps, with Verstappen making several attempts to pass Hamilton, but the British driver held firm, crossing the finish line to the delight of the passionate home crowd.

Lando Norris secured a well-deserved third-place finish, with Oscar and Sainz rounding out the top five.

You could feel the tension in the air as the race unfolded, every corner and straight away leaving you on the edge of your seat. When Lewis Hamilton crossed the finish line, you erupted in celebration with the rest of the fans, the atmosphere electric with joy and pride.

The victory felt like a triumph for everyone present, a testament to the dedication and skill of the entire team.

You were close by when Lewis got out of his car at the number 1 place and he jumped out to meet his parents. The emotion on his face was palpable as he embraced them, the crowd's cheers echoing in the background.

It was a moment of pure triumph and familial pride, one that you knew would be remembered for years to come.

Lewis then ran over to you and gave you the biggest hug, his joy radiating through the embrace. "We did it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with triumph and gratitude.

You could hardly believe it, standing there in the midst of the celebration, feeling the warmth of his victory shared with you.

The crowd's cheers grew louder, a symphony of adoration for their champion, and you felt an overwhelming sense of connection to this incredible moment. As the noise of the crowd swirled around you, Lewis pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with unspoken emotion.

"Thank you for always believing in me kid," he said, his words sincere and heartfelt. The world seemed to fade away as you shared that instant, knowing that this victory was not just a win on the track, but a culmination of years of hard work, perseverance, and unwavering support.

"It was all you," you said, smiling through the tears that had begun to form in your eyes. Lewis shook his head, still beaming.

"No, this victory belongs to all of us," he replied, his voice steady and filled with gratitude.

Lewis then left you to go hug his team, the very people who had worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make this victory possible.

The mechanics, engineers, and strategists all gathered around him, their faces lit up with pride and relief.

Each hug and handshake was a testament to the unity and effort that had propelled them to this moment. The bond between the team members was evident, a shared understanding of the countless hours and challenges they had overcome together.

As Lewis made his way through the throng, he paused to exchange words of gratitude and congratulations with each person. The joy in the paddock was infectious, spreading like wildfire among everyone present.

The cameras flashed, capturing the raw, unfiltered emotions that painted this victorious scene. It was a reminder that while one man may stand on the podium, the triumph is always a collective achievement, built on the foundation of teamwork and mutual respect.

As you were cheering for Lewis, you didn't realize when Max got out of his car and walked over to you until he was standing in front of you, his helmet still on his head.

Startled, you looked up to see the intense gaze behind his visor, a mixture of disappointment and adrenaline in his eyes.

After he didn't move and all you could hear was his harsh breathing, you quickly helped him with taking off the helmet. As it came off, his face was a portrait of raw emotion—disappointment mingled with exhaustion, yet there was an unmistakable glint of respect in his eyes.

"You were incredible out there," you said softly, trying to bridge the gap between rival and friend. He nodded, his expression softening slightly as he took a deep breath. The tension slowly melting away from his shoulders.

He nodded before moving closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "After this, be in my room." A shiver ran down your spine, the unexpected command sending a surge of adrenaline through your veins.

You couldn't help but feel the intensity of the moment, the lines between competition and something deeper blurring in the dimming light of the paddock.

You met his gaze, searching for any hint of jest, but all you found was a seriousness that made your heart race. "Max, what are you—" you began to ask, but he silenced you with a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"Just be there," he insisted softly, his voice a mix of urgency and something else you couldn't quite place. With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

You watched the podium ceremony unfold, the cheers of the crowd and the spray of champagne creating a festive atmosphere. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake Max's words from your mind.

His voice, that hint of something unspoken, echoed in your ears, overshadowing even the triumphant smiles of the winners. As the drivers celebrated, your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment, the weight of his command lingering heavily.

Back in the team garage, the clamor of post-race activities did little to diminish your inner turmoil. You replayed the scene over and over, analyzing every detail of his expression and tone.

What could he possibly want? Why the urgency?

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself drawn inexorably towards his room, curiosity and anticipation intertwining in a complex dance. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the door, uncertainty mingling with a strange sense of inevitability.

As you walked, suddenly someone took your hand and pulled you into Max driver's room—it was Max. The door closed behind you with a soft click, and you found yourself standing inches from him, your breath catching in your throat.

His eyes were intense, a storm of emotions swirling within them that you couldn't quite decipher.

"I needed to talk to you alone," he said, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the chaos of your thoughts.

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his presence enveloping you. "There's something I've wanted to say for a long time," he continued, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "But I didn't know how, or if it was the right time."

You could feel the weight of his words, each one laden with unspoken meaning. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, and you knew that whatever he was about to reveal would change everything.

His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. "What is this about, Max?" you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking to nothing. "There's something I've been hiding, something I need to tell you before it goes any further."

His hand remained on yours, grounding you as the weight of his words settled in. You could feel the gravity of the moment, the potential for everything to change hanging in the air between you.

Max’s grip tightened slightly, as if drawing strength from your presence. "I’ve been battling with this for so long," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "and I can't keep it to myself any longer. I’ve been feeling something more than just camaraderie between us. Every race, every strategy session, every moment we've spent together... it’s become clear to me that it’s more than just professional respect or friendship."

Your heart raced, your mind spinning with the implications of his confession. "Max, are you saying...?" you trailed off, unsure if you dared to hope for what his words might mean.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another step closer, his free hand gently cupping your cheek.

"Yes," he said softly. "I’m saying that I’ve fallen for you. And I couldn’t go another day without telling you, without knowing if you might feel the same."

Your breath hitched at his confession, emotions swirling within you. "Max, I... I don't know what to say," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest.

His gaze remained unwavering, filled with vulnerability and hope. "Just tell me how you feel," he urged gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of relief and confusion. "I've been trying to convince myself it was just friendship," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But deep down, I've felt it too. I was just too scared to acknowledge it, afraid it would ruin everything."

Now that everything was out in the open, a sense of liberation washed over you. The weight of unspoken emotions lifted, replaced by a cautious but undeniable hope.

"But knowing you feel the same changes everything," you whispered, a tentative smile breaking through your tears.

Max's eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and relief, a broad smile spreading across his face. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go.

"You have no idea how happy you've just made me," he murmured into your hair, his voice filled with an overwhelming sense of contentment.

He then pulled back to look at you, his eyes mostly glancing at your lips without any hesitation. The air between you crackled with a palpable intensity, a silent promise of something more.

His breath mingled with yours, creating a heady blend of anticipation and longing. "May I?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, seeking your consent with every fiber of his being.

You nodded, unable to find the words, your heart pounding in your chest. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of shared emotions.

The kiss was tender yet filled with unspoken promises, a confirmation of the feelings you both had been harboring for so long. When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath.

His eyes held a depth of emotion that took your breath away, shimmering with love, relief, and an unspoken promise of a future together. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze soft yet intense, as if memorizing every detail of your face.

"Love you," you whispered without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

For a moment, you worried you had said too much too soon, but the way Max's eyes softened reassured you.

"I love you too," he replied, his voice steady and sincere, as if he had been waiting to say those words for a long time.

The weight of the moment settled between you, both comforting and exhilarating.

"What happens now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Max's hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt both grounding and electric.

"We take it one day at a time," he said, his smile widening. "No more hiding, no more pretending. Just us, figuring it out together."

The simplicity of his words brought a sense of calm over you, and you nodded, feeling more certain than ever that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

"That means supporting me before Lewis," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, shaking your head with a mock-serious expression. "That's a bit of a stretch," you replied, your tone light and teasing. "I might need some convincing before I switch allegiances."

Max laughed, the sound rich and warm, filling the space between you. "Challenge accepted," he said, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I'll just have to work extra hard to win you over, won't I?"

"Well, you've got your work cut out for you," you replied with a smirk. "But I'm open to seeing what you've got." His eyes sparkled with determination, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.

"Don't worry, I love a good challenge," Max replied with a confident grin.

"By the end of this, you'll be my biggest supporter, just wait and see."

i.t.y/n

liked by maxverstappen1, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 1,702,847 others.

tagged; maxverstappen1

i.t.y/n: Hey everyone! I know I've kept you in the dark for a while, but I'm excited to finally share that Max and I are together. We've been enjoying our time together and wanted to keep it just for us for a bit. To make up for the secrecy, here are some adorable photos of Max that I know you'll love.

I have to admit, he's managed to convert me into a Red Bull fan. But don't worry, Mercedes will always have a special place in my heart. Thank you all for your understanding and support. 💙

view comments below

maxverstappen1: Schatje I love you 🫶

i.t.y/n: I LOVE YOU TOO MAXIE 🥰🥰

lewishamilton: Congratulations on your relationship! I hope you both the best 😊

i.t.y/n: Thanks dad! I'll always be supporting you in secret 👍

lewishamilton: @maxverstappen you better take care of my daughter

*liked by i.t.y/n*

maxverstappen1: Yes sir

mercedesamgf1: Don't worry Y/N, we know you will always belong to us 🩵

maxverstappen1: Actually Y/N is all mine and always will be mine so respectfully f**k off

i.t.y/n: Max what did we say about bad words????

maxverstappen1: sorry schatje, @mercedesamgf1 I mean with all the respect I can have, please frick off

*liked by i.t.y/n*

user2: NOT MAX FIGHTING WITH MERCEDES ACCOUNT OVER Y/N????

user3: Y/N is actually living the dream 🥹

i.t.y/n: @maxverstappen1 I was just looking at the pictures of you that I took and you're always smiling in them

maxverstappen1: That's because I love smiling at what's mine 🫶

i.t.y/n: That's so sweet! 🥰🫶

maxverstappen1: Wanna meet me after sim practice??

*liked by i.t.y/n*

[readychilledwine]

Runaway Love

Summary - Amren and Rhysand's sister have begun to grow closer since Feyre took her duties from her. Amren, seeing she's hurting and needing time away, invites her friend to Summer, she just didn't plan on happened next or having to explain it to Rhysand - Tarquin x Rhysand's Sister reader - told from Amren's pov

Warnings - none I can think of. Lots of italics?

A/N - a side from some Tamlin smut, we are at the end of my maternity celebration, which means we will go back to our regular updates 💜 part of me wants to turn these two into more, but that may be a project for another day

Amren watched from the hill as Tarquin and you sat facing each other in the sand. Your foreheads were rested against each other, fingers laced together.

You two had done the one thing your brother had made Amren promise to prevent from happening. You two had left the seaside Palace late in the night, when everyone else was fast asleep and gotten married on the very beach Tarquin now held you on. Married under the watchful gaze of Summer’s high priestess and the stars.

By time Varian and Amren had found you, the ceremony was done. Vows had been exchanged, the kiss had been shared, the priestess had left. You two had been there, standing as the waves lapped your glittering white dress, just staring at each other.

A throat cleared next to her, turning to her own lover the ancient being sighed. “How will you tell him,” He asked softly. “He will want to know why she refused to come home.”

Amren looked down at you again, a smile forming on her lips as Tarquin tilted your chin up and kissed you. “I will tell him the truth.”

Rhys sat down, Feyre having left the room with Nyx as soon as tension began Building over Amren's avoidance of her mate's questions.

Violet eyes stared at her, waiting for an answer to the question that was hanging in the air like a cold unwelcome breeze. Rhysand rose a brow to Amren and Varian. “Do not make me ask again.”

Amren finally answered, voice showing no signs of emotion as she sighed. “She is not coming back. She is staying in Summer with Tarquin.”

Rhysand's gaze darkened, “And why Amren, did you as her chaperone allow her to make that decision?”

Varian answered, feeling the need to defend his own lover. “Your sister is a grown female. She does not require permission from-”

Rhys growled, gaze going to the visitor in his court. “I did not ask you. I asked my second in command why SHE did not perform her duty to protect my sister and bring her home.”

Something in Amren snapped in that moment. Her loyalty to y/n coming forward.

She couldn't help but to growl at the High Lord as Varian shifted uncomfortable next to her. "When was the last time you paid attention to her, boy? The last time you actually listened to one of her mission reports instead of telling her to leave it in your office?”

Rhys opened his mouth to defend himself only to pause as Amren snarled at him. "You have not given y/n a single ounce of care since your mate came. You even stripped her of her duties to her home and court so your mate would have a place." Amren settled back into the chair, not even realizing she had stood in her anger until Varian gently grabbed her small hand in his.

"They married, Rhysand." He said softly. "Unless you plan on ripping the bride of the High Lord of Summer away and starting a war, there is nothing you can do but ask to visit.”

The High Lord's face fell. “They-” He shook his head, “She wouldn't have willingly married him without myself, Azriel, and Cassian there.”

Amren looked at him again, her eyes then lingering on Rhysand's wedding band. “There was a time where she believed the same of you.”

His head hung in shame. “Show me.”

They both shook their heads. “We weren't there,” Amren said calmly. “They knew I had specific orders and made the choice to get married in the dead of night. By time we found them, it was done.”

Rhys stood turning away and walking to the window to hide the tears that were about to fall. “Then show me them leading up to the decision. Show me she is happy.”

Amren couldn't help the small smile, a rare thing gracing her face, as she thought back to their first day in Summer.

Tarquin smiled down at Amren, welcoming her back to Summer as he motioned towards the veranda where a table was set for 4. Cressida was there already, eyes wide as she stared behind Varian.

She stood immediately, telling a servant to get another chair and moving so she would not be at her cousin's right hand. "I brought another guest with me,” Amren stated coolly. “I hope you do not mind.”

A soft gasp was heard, followed by the voice that would haunt the Night Court until they heard it again. “Amren! You did not warn him you were bringing me? You-”

Tarquin was moving to her, to his mate, immediately, taking her soft hands into his. “Y/n,” his voice was breathless as he studied you. Eyes locking on your own the second he had decided you were well. “This is the most wonderful surprise. Even the sea has become more fair in your presence.”

Amren chuckled as a blush spread from your cheeks to your softly pointed ears. “I believe your seas only reflect their master's emotions, Tarquin,” you stated softly.

“Then they calm while my heart races at the sight of you alone.”

Varian had his own favorite memory in mind. One from a night spent on the Pleasure Barge.

Varian watched like a hawk ready to attack anyone who may approach you or Amren. The two of you had your arms linked, whispering secrets to each other as he watched the sheer skirts you two wore sway in the soft salty breeze.

You had not been on the barge before, having been banned from it during your last visit by Rhysand, and the two older fae were excited to bring you to watch the activities taking place.

Tarquin had come beforehand, ensuring the private balcony you would be watching from was perfect for his mate.Varian knocked on the door as Amren told you to behave as she went to their own balcony.

He opened the door and ushered you in. “I trust you have an idea of what will be happening here tonight?” Varian led you in by your waist, holding you close to him as the guards watched. “If at any point you are uncomfortable, tell my cousin.” You nodded, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you stared ahead.

Tarquin was standing there, his back to you two as he moved pillows exactly how he wanted them for the night. He had brought in expensive champagne for the two of you, chocolate covered fruits, flowers.

It was clear to Varian you had never been truly courted in that moment. You had never had another fae ensuring everything was perfect for you and you alone. That they had brought the best for you and you alone. He bent down to your ear, “Be good, little star.”

Amren had thought of another memory, smiling again as she heard your laughter echoing in her mind.

Varian and Amren had found a shady spot on the beach, enjoying cool wine and fresh fruits and cheeses on the beautiful, warm day.

The ocean was gorgeous today. Soft waves rolling in, a breeze cooling the air.

That same breeze carried your laughter as Tarquin chased you through the sand. The two of you had just come out of the water after you had decided a swim was absolutely a must.

Amren immediately froze as you screamed, panic setting in until she realized it was because Tarquin had caught you and lifted you into his arms. Your back was to his chest, legs kicking out as your head fell back and your laughter filled the air again.

“He's moved her things into his room,” Cresseida mumbled. “Tell me, dear Amren. How will Rhysand feel about his precious baby sister breaking all of his rules while she's here without him? Sleeping in Tarquin's bed. Wearing a Summer Crown. She is sitting with him during court meetings. Need I bring up the nights on the barge?”

“Let them be, sister.”

“Do you plan on dealing with him if be storms here with his Illyrians in tow?”

Amren rolled her eyes. “Rhysand has hardly paid y/n a single mind since Feyre came to the Night Court. She was brought here on that first visit as a distraction without knowing what was happening. If Rhys wants to be upset, he can speak with me.”

Tarquin was carrying you over, holding you bridal style as he smiled down at you. The tail end of his sentence could be heard. “Tonight then?”

“Tonight,” you whispered.

“And then they married,” Rhysand concluded at the end of Amren's memory. He sat back down, head in his hands. “Did-” his throat tightened as Azriel and Cassian walked in. “Did she look beautiful?”

“Breath taking,” the Summer general answered immediately.

Amren ran to the hillside by the beach they had spent the day on. “No no no no,” she kept muttering under her breath. “This damn girl-”

Varian shot an arm out to stop her. “Do not say-"

“It's done, my goddess.” He pointed down the beach. There, just barely in the water, you and Tarquin stood. He had both hands cradling your face as he kissed you. The white dress you had packed, the one that was lightweight and shimmered like glitter, was sparkling until the light of the full moon. Your hands were resting on Tarquin's chest, hair flowing in the wind.

You were glowing, like starlight during Starfall, as your foreheads came to rest together. Varian sat in the grass, pulling Amren down with him as he did. “Beautiful little creature,” he said, nodding down towards you. “and her beautiful chaperone should not take this as a failure on her end.”

Cresseida joined them, tears in her eyes as she sat next to Amren. “It's the perfect ending, is it not? A runaway wedding?”

Amren shook her head as you and Tarquin turned towards them, hands held and fingers laced together. As you walked, you looked up at him and only him, trusting him to guide your feet to your friends. “No,” Amren finally said. “It is a perfect beginning.”

Silence had filled the room as Cassian sat, and Azriel just nodded. “So, she isn't coming home then,” Cassian said slowly. “And our little sister now resides over a court I am banned from.”

Azriel nodded, moving to the window Rhys had previously stood in front of. “Did she say anything to you before you left, Amren?” Azriel looked over his shoulder at her. “Anything at all?”

Varian nodded. “Be happy,” the couple said together. “Be happy and take the leap.”

Amren held her own left hand up. There sat a sparkling large diamond centered in gold and rubies. “I will be packing my things as well, High Lord.”

Rhysand sighed heavily, nodding. “Do you plan on a year-long engagement?” The two nodded. “I am happy for you, both of you.”

“And your sister?”

Rhysand shook his head. “Her I will deal with later.”

Taglist - @kemillyfreitas @biancabldss @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @hnyclover

[storywriter007]

Thank you for answering my other two requests, I loved them!! I have two more if you are interested!

1) Can you do a Percy Jackson x reader (I'm imagining this occurring on the Argo II) that's basically an enemies to friends to lovers? Where maybe they both just don't really like each other based on the encounters they've had, but then end up going on a small quest off the ship just the two of them and some sort of trauma happens that makes them friends, and then you can decide how they get to lovers from there! Basically just want some angst!

2) This one has a little bit of a trigger warning with suicidal thoughts, so I understand if you don't want to write this one. Percy Jackson x reader (this one I'm also envisioning on the Argo II, but this one could also be just at camp when Percy is like 17) where they are good friends and the reader is struggling mentally but tries to smile for everyone else, but she is sitting alone in the woods at some point holding her knife to her wrist just kind of thinking about it but not sure about it, but then Percy appears to check on her and scares her so the accidentally slips and cuts herself there, and from there basically Percy comfort. Idk if that made sense but basically Percy angst and comfort.

You're amazing!!! 🩷

Friends? - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: this is request one. thank you for your request :) i kind of had to cut it short bc this was getting too long.

warnings: cursing, mentions of suicide, betrayal, mentions of death, battle scenes, kissing

genre: angst ending in fluff

word count: 1.8k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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y/n took her seat at the table alongside seven other demi-gods. she noticed percy scowl at her and she rolled her eyes back at him. they'd never gotten along. and chances were, they never would.

her intense hate for the son of the sea god had begun a few summers back during capture the flag. they were on the blue team, and she was assigned to offense with annabeth and percy. suddenly, four members from the red charged at the trio, swords in hand. y/n and percy swung and slashed at two of them until they fled. one of them yanked off annabeth's invisibility cap and decided she was their next victim. the other one came for y/n, hitting her ankle hard. percy was quick to defend annabeth and run away with her.

but he left her. y/n was left to fight two members of the opposing team, who were merciless. they were violent, they were twice her size, and to y/n's dismay, her ankle didn't provide her any support to run away. it was a terrible and cruel beating. the two kept going even when they didn't need to. she could barely see by the end of it. y/n remembered that capture the flag game as "don't trust your teammates."

ever since then, y/n had made her distaste for percy clear. everyone admired his loyalty, until they were on the receiving end of his betrayal.

"we need to find a map." annabeth started.

"it's our key to finding out which way is the safest to go." jason explained. "it's somewhere in the woods, according to what hecate told hazel."

"we're going to have to split up." annabeth continued. "it's a huge forest, and we need to cover ground efficiently."

"i've split you guys up. i don't want to hear any whining." jason said, looking at the group, but his gaze lingered longer on percy and y/n. "annabeth, piper, and i are going eastwards towards the mountains. frank, leo, and hazel are going south to the rest of the woods. percy and y/n will head north, towards the shore."

"why is it 3-3-2?" hazel asked curiously.

"because we need a power balance." annabeth said politely. "it's matched with each person's strengths."

"strengths?" percy chuckled. "i'm the strength. she's going to slow me down."

douchebag, y/n thought.

"i don't want to go with you either, but i'm not bitching about it, am i?" she snapped back.

"you don't have to bitch because going with me does you a favor."

"i'd rather drown."

"lucky you, i can make that happen."

they stared at one-another in an intense fury.

"we'll meet here again in four hours." jason instructed. "and when we do, all eight of us better be here." he said, eyeing percy and y/n.

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it was already eight. and they had to search the stupid northside until midnight. she couldn't even run away if she wanted to.

they continued walking. the sun slowly set as the night sky arose. the woods looked scary at night. tall, thick trees hovered over the two demi-gods as strange creatures and noises came by. after what felt like a long time walking, y/n could hear the sea.

"do you hear it?" she asked him.

"i can feel it." he said, walking quickly.

she trailed behind him as they reached sandy terrain. the sea was dark and terrifying. y/n and percy searched the shore for what felt like another eternity.

suddenly, it got colder and y/n heard a voice. it was a sweet, soft voice.

look at me it whispered.

"do you hear that?" she asked percy.

"yeah." he said, shakily.

look at what you've done it demanded.

suddenly, y/n was watching something in front of her. it was a battle. she looked at the gory scene in front of her. it took her a minute to realize it was the battle of manhattan. she felt a lump in her throat as images of dead campers raced through her mind. silena, charlie, ethan, and luke.

this is your fault the voice said, but it wasn't sweet anymore. it was hoarse, raspy, and cruel.

look at what you've killed. look at what you've brought it continued.

the images flashed terrible battle scenes. it replayed deaths of each and every camper.

you did this the voice yelled.

"n-no, i didn't." y/n whispered, shaken by the images.

look at what you've done

"i didn't do it!" she pleaded.

you did! you did it all!

"i had no choice." she said, tears spilling from her eyes.

terrible, tortuous images kept playing. the deaths of the campers she'd grown up with, the reactions of their mothers and fathers, and the destruction that had been caused.

you deserve to die.

"i know." she whispered. "don't you think i know?"

do it the voice encouraged. do what you should've done years ago.

y/n tried to think through it. this voice, this voice wasn't human.

do it.

it was a siren. it was trying to get her to sacrifice her life.

"no." she said, standing her ground. "i did what i had to. i can't be blamed for it."

then who can you blame?

"kronos." she said, gripping her sword.

the siren showed it's demented face and y/n quickly slashed it. she snapped out of her trance, and the images faded and so did the voices. she turned to see percy holding his sword to his neck. she saw the twisted siren circling around him. she swiftly ran up to him and took his sword from his hand, before slashing the siren. percy too snapped out of his daze, and stumbled a little. y/n caught him, and looked up to meet his sea green eyes. they were teary, and he looked so disheartened.

"you saw it too." she confirmed.

he nodded.

"thank you." he said, his voice low and sincere. "i would've done-well you know what, if you hadn't saved me."

she nodded.

"we should probably get back to the ship." he said quietly.

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when percy and y/n got back, it was half-past midnight, and everyone was already there.

"we ran into sirens." y/n briefly explained.

they all nodded as the ship entered the air, sailing to its next location.

"we found the map." hazel informed. "goodnight guys."

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y/n tossed and turned in her bed. she couldn't get those images out. those dam sirens. she needed to talk to someone. someone who would understand. she sat up and opened her door. she trailed the hallway until the came across the door that read percy jackson. she lightly knocked before pushing the door open.

"couldn't sleep either?" he asked, laying down and staring at the ceiling.

"yeah." she said. "i can't get what the sirens showed me out of my head."

"c'mere." he said, patting the area next to him.

y/n laid down next to him.

"i know it's not our fault." he said quietly. "but it feels like it is."

"i know." she said softly. "it's like i should've done something. but there was nothing to be done."

"exactly." he said. "on one hand, i know i couldn't have saved them no matter what i did. but on the other, i feel like i should've figured it out."

"mhm." she agreed. "they were good people. that's what makes it hurt more."

"they didn't deserve death. and i don't deserve the hero title." he chuckled. "i let them die."

"you had no choice." she reminded.

"did i?" he questioned.

"percy, i saw and heard the same things you did. it just wanted to get in our heads." she explained. "and they did it through guilt. guilt that isn't ours to carry. it's kronos'."

"you're right." he agreed.

y/n had spent years hating him. but maybe, just maybe, he was alright. they had both seen the same things growing up. the same wars, deaths, and betrayals. in an odd way, she felt almost identical to him.

a few moments of silence passed by before y/n realized percy had fallen asleep. and after a few more minutes, she felt herself drift off as well.

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the next morning when y/n awoke, percy was already awake.

"morning." he smiled.

"oh dear god." she said, sitting up. "what time is it?"

"it's five-thirty. and i'm sorry." he said, sitting up as well.

"for what?"

"for how i treated you all these years." he exhaled, as if this was something he'd been meaning to get off his chest. "i'm sorry for leaving you in capture the flag."

"so you did know what you were doing, huh?" she retorted.

sure, the cuts and scars from that beating had been healed a long time ago. but, the betrayal never did.

"i didn't know you." he explained. "i didn't care about you. i just wanted to get annabeth to safety. that was wrong of me. you were on my team, i should've helped."

"'sorry' and 'i should've' doesn't fix anything. we're not best friends because we got along for a day." she said bitterly. "i know for a fact you would've left me in the woods the way you did all those years ago."

"that's not fair y/n." he frowned. "i would never do that to you."

"and you get to decide what's fair now?" she chuckled. "are you forgetting you continued tormenting me instead of swallowing your pride and apologizing?"

"i-"

"that's the thing about your loyalty, jackson. everyone admires it until they're on the receiving end of your betrayal." she said coldly, getting up.

"y/n, you might not trust me today, hell, you might not trust me for the rest of our short lives. but believe me when i say, from the bottom of my heart, i'm sorry."

"how do i know you're never going to do the same thing again?" she asked.

get got up and moved closer to her. he was practically towering over her. she felt her back hit the wall.

"you have my word." he promised, looking at her eyes.

she nodded in agreement, feeling herself breathe heavily being this close to him. she could feel him leaning in, and she did too. their lips pressed against one-anothers in a passionate kiss. his hands were placed on her waist, and her arms snaked around his neck. he tasted like salt and blue frosting. she felt herself get pushed backwards towards the wall as he continued to kiss her. it grew more passionate and ferocious until they both pulled away. she rested her head underneath his.

"friends?" he asked.

"we just made out. we are not friends." she laughed.

"i thought it was too bold to say lovers."

"lovers." she agreed.

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hope you liked it :) sorry for the wait!

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 14

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 6.5k

warning; smut :)))

notes; Hey everyone, we are getting close to the end of the story, I'm glad that you guys are enjoying it. I love reading your comments <33 So tbh this is my first time writing this kind for "hum hum" content... So I really hope that you will enjoy this chapter ;))

here is the link for part 13 or part 15

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Azriel stepped into the Town House, his mind still spinning from the confrontation with you. The door closed quietly behind him, but the weight of the conversation lingered heavily on his shoulders. He had hoped for a different outcome, but now he was left wondering if he had made the worst mistake of his life.

As he made his way into the living room, Cassian was lounging on one of the sofas, a glass of whiskey in hand. He looked up as Azriel entered, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“What are you doing here, Az?” Cassian asked, a teasing grin on his face. “Shouldn’t you be in the arms of your beloved blacksmith right now?”

Azriel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression filled with regret. “I might have fucked up, Cass.”

Cassian’s grin faded, replaced by a look of concern as he set his glass down. “What do you mean? What happened?”

Before Azriel could answer, Mor came striding into the room, her eyes narrowing as she took in the tension in the air. “What’s going on? Why do you look like someone just punched you in the gut, Az?”

Azriel hesitated for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice low and filled with guilt. “Y/N overheard me talking to Rhys. She knows we’re mates, and… I didn’t tell her. She’s angry—hurt, and I can’t blame her.”

Mor’s eyes widened in shock, and then, in a rare burst of emotion, she nearly screamed at him, “Azriel, are you serious? You didn’t tell her? How could you keep something like that from her?”

Azriel winced at the intensity of her reaction, but he knew she was right. He had messed up, and now he was paying the price for it.

Cassian, ever the voice of reason—or at least attempted reason—leaned forward, trying to keep the mood from completely spiraling. “Alright, let’s not lose our heads here. Az, it sounds like she just needs some time. It’s a lot to take in, and she’s been through so much already.”

Mor shook her head, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Time, sure. But what are you even still doing here, Azriel? You should be with her, apologizing, explaining—whatever it takes to make this right. You can’t just sit here and wallow in self-pity.”

Cassian nodded in agreement, though his tone was gentler. “She’s got a point, brother. You need to go back, talk to her again. Hell, get on your knees if you have to, but don’t just give up.”

Azriel looked between the two of them, torn between his own guilt and the advice of his friends. “I… I don’t know if she’ll even want to see me right now.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mor snapped, her voice firm. “You go back to her, and you don’t come back here until you’ve made things right. And Az, I mean it—you better not step foot in this house for the next few days. Focus on her.”

Cassian clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, offering him a small, encouraging smile. “You’ve got this, Az. Just be honest with her, and give her the time she needs. She cares about you—don’t forget that.”

Azriel nodded slowly, the weight of his friends’ words sinking in. He had messed up, but he wasn’t about to give up on you. He couldn’t.

“Thanks, both of you,” he said quietly, his resolve strengthening. “I’m going back. I’ll make it right.”

“Good,” Mor said, her tone softening slightly. “Now go, and don’t come back until she’s forgiven you.”

With that, Azriel turned and headed for the door, his heart heavy but determined. He knew he had a lot to make up for, but he was willing to do whatever it took to win back your trust.

As he left the Town House, he couldn’t help but think of you—alone, hurting, and confused. He had made a mistake, but he wouldn’t let it be the end of what could be something truly special between you. He would find a way to make things right, no matter what it took.

Azriel’s heart pounded in his chest as he made his way back through the quiet streets of Velaris, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He had never felt so conflicted, so desperate to fix something that he wasn’t even sure could be mended. But he knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t going to give up on you. Not now, not ever.

The path to your apartment felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the weight of what had transpired between you. When he finally reached your door, he paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. His mind raced with thoughts of what to say, how to explain, but in the end, he knew that words might not be enough. It was his actions that would have to speak for him now.

He raised his hand and knocked softly, his heart in his throat as he waited for you to answer. The silence that followed felt like an eternity, but then, finally, he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching the door.

 His heart was pounding, a mix of regret and determination driving him as he looked into your eyes. The silence between you was heavy, but he knew he had to speak, to say what needed to be said.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion, “I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you about the bond. I should have trusted you with the truth from the beginning. I was wrong to keep it from you, and I can’t express how much I regret that.”

You looked at him, your expression guarded but not closed off. He could see the hurt in your eyes, but also the glimmer of something else—something that gave him a shred of hope.

“Azriel,” you said, your voice calm but firm, “why didn’t you tell me? I had to find out by overhearing a conversation. Do you have any idea how that felt?”

He flinched at your words, the pain in your voice cutting deep. “I was afraid,” he admitted, his voice low. “I was afraid of overwhelming you, of losing you before we even had a chance. I didn’t want to put more pressure on you after everything you’ve been through. But I realize now that I was wrong. You deserved to know the truth.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze unwavering. “You should have trusted me to handle it, Azriel. You should have let me decide how to deal with it.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “You’re right. I should have. And I’m sorry that I didn’t. But I’m here now, and I want to make things right. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

There was a long pause as you looked at him, weighing his words. Finally, you stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Come inside, Azriel. We need to talk.”

Relief washed over him as he stepped through the doorway, his heart still pounding but with a renewed sense of purpose. You closed the door behind him, and he followed you into the living room, where the remnants of your evening lay scattered—a half-empty cup of tea, a blanket draped over the back of the couch.

You both sat down, the air between you still thick with unspoken words. Azriel watched you, waiting for you to speak first, wanting to hear what you had to say.

“I’m not going to lie,” you began, your voice steady, “I was really upset when I overheard you and Rhys. I felt… blindsided. But I also know that you didn’t keep it from me to hurt me. You were trying to protect me, even if it was the wrong way to do it.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “That’s exactly it. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now that I should have been honest with you from the start.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you considered your next words. “I don’t know what this bond means for us, Az. I don’t even know how I feel about it right now. But I do know that I care about you, and that I’m willing to figure this out—together.”

A wave of relief washed over him, and he leaned forward, his voice soft but filled with conviction. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to make this right. I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

You looked at him, your expression softening slightly. “I believe you, Azriel. But this is going to take time. We need to rebuild the trust that was shaken tonight.”

He nodded, fully understanding the gravity of your words. “I’ll give you all the time you need. Just know that I’m not going anywhere.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. But there was also a sense of resolution, a quiet understanding that while things weren’t perfect, they could be mended.

Finally, you broke the silence, a small, tentative smile playing on your lips. “Would you like some tea? It’s not much, but it’s something.”

Azriel smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Tea sounds perfect.”

You stood up and made your way to the kitchen, and Azriel followed, the distance between you feeling just a little bit smaller than it had moments before. As you prepared the tea, the normalcy of the moment brought a sense of calm to both of you.

When you returned to the living room with the tea, Azriel took the cup you offered and sat down beside you, the warmth of the cup a comforting weight in his hands.

Azriel sat on the couch, his heart still heavy with the weight of your earlier conversation. The tension between you had begun to ease, but there was still so much left unsaid, so much to work through. He watched you as you moved about the kitchen, your back turned to him as you prepared something else. 

A few moments later, you returned to the living room, carrying a small plate with a slice of cake on it. You set it down on the table in front of him with a quiet smile.

“I, um, had planned to give you something to eat later,” you said, your voice soft but steady. “But since you came back so quickly, this is all I have for now.”

Azriel looked at the cake, then back at you, his heart swelling with emotion. The gesture, simple as it was, meant more to him than words could express. He could see the effort you were making, the tentative steps toward repairing what had been shaken between you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and careful. “Does this mean… does this mean that you accept the bond?”

You met his gaze, and for a moment, there was only silence between you. Then, slowly, you nodded, your eyes softening as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

“I love you, Azriel,” you said quietly, your voice filled with sincerity. “I was hurt, yes, and I needed time to process everything. But the truth is, I’ve felt something between us for a while now. The bond… it’s just a name for what we already have. And yes, I accept it. I accept you.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering in his chest as your words washed over him. He had been so afraid that he had lost you, that his mistake had been too much to overcome, but here you were, telling him that you loved him, that you accepted the bond that tied you together.

Without thinking, he set the cup of tea aside and pulled you into his arms, holding you close as a wave of relief and love washed over him. You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you rested your head against his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

You smiled against him, the tension between you finally melting away as you allowed yourself to fully embrace what had always been there. The bond, the connection, the love—it was all real, and it was all yours.

Azriel pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “Thank you for giving me a second chance,” he said, his voice earnest. “I won’t let you down, Y/N. I promise.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. “I know you won’t, Azriel. We’ll get through this together.”

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours as he closed his eyes, savoring the closeness, the warmth of your presence. For the first time in what felt like days, he allowed himself to truly believe that everything would be alright.

After a few moments, you both pulled back, and Azriel’s gaze fell to the cake on the table. He chuckled softly, the sound full of warmth and affection.

“You know,” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful for a piece of cake.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and it filled the room with a sense of peace. “Well, enjoy it,” you replied with a grin. “It’s the least I could do after everything.”

Azriel picked up the fork and took a bite of the cake, savoring the sweet taste and the even sweeter feeling of being here with you, in this moment. When he looked back at you, his eyes were filled with love, the bond between you stronger than ever.

“You know, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice laced with affection, “I don’t need anything else. Just you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You smiled, your heart full as you leaned in to kiss him, the bond between you humming with contentment. “You have me, Azriel. Now and always.”

Whatever control Azriel had been holding onto snapped. In a swift movement, he lifted you into his strong arms, holding you close. Your breasts pressed against his chest, and your legs instinctively wrapped tightly around his waist. The intensity in his gaze was like a fire that had been smoldering for too long, finally unleashed.

He kissed you with a fervor that made your heart race, his lips claiming yours as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was deep, demanding, and you met it with equal passion, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him even closer.

“Gods, Y/N,” Azriel murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need. “I’ve wanted this—wanted you—for so long.”

“Azriel,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. “I want you too. So much.”

Azriel carried you effortlessly toward the bedroom, his wings flaring slightly behind him, adding to the sense of raw power that radiated from him. You could feel every muscle in his body as he held you, the strength and control that he usually kept so tightly in check now fully on display.

He pushed open the door with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and carried you inside. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting a silvery hue over everything. The air was thick with tension, the bond between you humming with anticipation.

Azriel set you down on the edge of the bed, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he leaned in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment, every taste of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You shivered at his words, the possessiveness in his tone sending a thrill through you. “I’m yours, Azriel,” you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion. “Always.”

His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your waist, the swell of your hips, and the softness of your thighs. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire in your core that only he could stoke. You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers teased the hem of your shirt.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Azriel lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His gaze darkened as he took in the sight of you, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples.

A gasp escaped your lips at the sensation, your back arching as you pressed yourself closer to him. Azriel’s lips curved into a wicked smile as he leaned down, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone, and finally, to your breasts.

“You drive me wild,” he murmured, his voice husky as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak as his hand massaged the other. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath his shirt. Without thinking, you tugged at the fabric, eager to feel his skin against yours. Azriel complied, pulling away just long enough to strip off his shirt before pressing his body against yours once more.

The feel of his bare chest against your skin was intoxicating, the heat of his body searing into you. You could feel the hard planes of his abdomen, the strength in his arms as he held you close, the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand.

Azriel’s mouth was on yours again, his kiss rougher this time, more desperate. His hands continued to explore your body, one slipping down to the waistband of your pants. He paused, his gaze meeting yours, silently asking for permission.

You nodded, your breath hitching in anticipation. “Please, Azriel,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “I need you.”

Azriel wasted no time, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs, leaving you bare before him. He stood back for a moment, his eyes raking over your body, his expression filled with a mix of reverence and hunger.

“Perfect,” he muttered under his breath, almost as if he was speaking to himself. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Before you could respond, Azriel was on you again, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your stomach, stopping just above the apex of your thighs. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin there, his breath warm against you.

Your heart raced, your body trembling with anticipation as his lips moved lower, teasing you with feather-light touches that had you aching for more. When his mouth finally found its mark, you cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

“Azriel,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your lips. “Please… don’t stop.”

He chuckled against you, the sound vibrating through your core. “I don’t plan to,” he murmured, his voice filled with wicked promise.

Azriel was relentless, his tongue and lips working you with a skill that left you breathless. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you to the edge and then pull you back, driving you wild with need. Your hips bucked against his mouth, but he held you firmly, keeping you right where he wanted you.

“You taste incredible,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “I could do this all night.”

The sensations built, spiraling higher and higher until you thought you might shatter from the intensity of it all. And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, Azriel slowed, his movements becoming more languid, more deliberate, drawing out your pleasure until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

He kissed his way back up your body, his lips lingering on every inch of skin, until he was once again face to face with you. His eyes were dark with desire, his breathing ragged as he looked down at you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “You’re everything to me.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you pulled him down for another kiss, your lips meeting his with a fierce intensity. The taste of yourself on his lips only fueled the fire inside you, your need for him growing stronger with each passing second.

Azriel’s hands were everywhere—on your breasts, your hips, your thighs—fanning the flames of your desire. You could feel the evidence of his own arousal pressing against your thigh, and the thought of what was to come sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

But even as the frenzy built between you, there was no rush, no hurry to reach the final act. This was about savoring the moment, about exploring each other’s bodies, about giving and taking pleasure in equal measure.

“Azriel,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with emotion. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he breathed, his voice filled with raw emotion. “More than anything.”

And with those words, you let yourself get lost in him—in the feel of his hands on your skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his ragged breathing. You let the bond between you hum with energy, fueling your desire, guiding your movements as you and Azriel gave yourselves over to the intensity of the moment.

Azriel’s breath was hot against your skin, his kisses trailing down your neck as he murmured words of love and desire. Your body was already buzzing with the pleasure he had given you, but a new kind of hunger was stirring within you—one that demanded to be fulfilled.

You pushed him back slightly, meeting his gaze with a look that made his eyes darken even more. Without a word, you flipped him onto his back, straddling his hips as you leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. Azriel’s hands gripped your thighs, his touch possessive as he groaned into your mouth.

But you had something else in mind.

Breaking the kiss, you trailed your lips down his jaw, along the column of his throat, savoring the way his breath hitched with every touch. You continued your descent, your fingers tracing the hard planes of his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

“Y/N,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “What are you—”

You silenced him with a look, a wicked smile playing on your lips as you pressed a kiss to his sternum. “I want to make you feel good, Az,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. “Let me take care of you.”

Azriel’s breath hitched again, his hands flexing on your thighs as he watched you with hooded eyes. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you cut him off, your tone firm but filled with affection. “Just relax.”

His eyes fluttered closed, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths as you continued your journey down his body. You took your time, kissing and caressing every inch of skin, savoring the way he shivered under your touch.

When you finally reached the waistband of his pants, you glanced up at him, your heart pounding with anticipation. Azriel’s eyes were on you, his gaze intense and full of need. With a slow, deliberate movement, you tugged at his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear, revealing the full extent of his arousal. 

Azriel let out a low groan as he was freed from the fabric, his length hard and pulsing with need. Your eyes got bigger, seing that the rumors about wingspand were in fact accurate and wonder how that could fit in your mouth. You couldn’t help the way your mouth watered at the sight of him, your own desire flaring even hotter.

You wrapped your fingers around him, your touch firm but gentle as you stroked him slowly, watching his reaction. Azriel’s head fell back against the pillow, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as he surrendered to your touch.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained. “You’re going to drive me mad.”

“That’s the idea,” you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his length, earning a sharp intake of breath from him.

You didn’t waste any more time, your mouth closing around him as you took him in slowly, savoring the way he filled you. Azriel’s hips bucked slightly, a low curse falling from his lips as he tangled his fingers in your hair, his grip tight but not forceful.

You set a steady rhythm, your tongue teasing the sensitive underside of his length as you moved up and down, your hand working in tandem with your mouth. Every moan, every shiver that you drew from him only fueled your own desire, making you want to please him even more.

“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, his voice rough with pleasure. “Y/N, that feels—gods, you’re incredible.”

His praise spurred you on, and you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, reveling in the way he responded to you. Azriel’s breaths were coming faster now, his control slipping as you continued to work him with your mouth and hand.

“Please,” he rasped, his voice raw with need. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”

You glanced up at him, your eyes locking with his as you pulled back slightly, your tongue flicking over the tip of his length in a way that made him shudder. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

Azriel’s grip on your hair tightened, his gaze burning with desire as he watched you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You smiled wickedly, your mouth and hand continuing their relentless assault on him. You could feel him starting to lose control, his hips bucking up into your mouth, his breathing ragged and desperate.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained. “I’m close—so close.”

You didn’t let up, your pace quickening as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge. Azriel’s entire body tensed, his muscles flexing beneath your touch as he teetered on the brink of release.

And then, with a low, guttural moan, he came undone, his release spilling into your mouth as he shuddered beneath you. You took it all, swallowing him down, your hand and mouth working to prolong his pleasure until he was a trembling mess.

When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him, your lips curled into a satisfied smile. Azriel was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to regain his composure. His eyes were half-lidded, dark with lingering desire as he gazed at you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “That was… incredible.”

You crawled back up his body, pressing a kiss to his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you murmured, your tone teasing.

Azriel wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m not done with you yet,” he promised, his voice low and full of intent.

You shivered at the promise in his words, your own desire flaring up again at the thought of what was to come.

The night was far from over, and with the bond between you humming with energy, you knew that this was only the beginning of a night you would never forget.

Azriel’s eyes were still dark with desire as he looked at you, his chest rising and falling with the remnants of his release. But the hunger in his gaze told you that he wasn’t satisfied—not yet. The bond between you hummed with energy, pulling you closer, urging you to take this final step.

He rolled you onto your back with a swift movement, his body hovering over yours, his wings spread wide, casting shadows across the room. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, searing into your skin.

Azriel kissed you deeply, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a ferocity that took your breath away. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you with a mix of reverence and need. The feel of his roughened fingers against your soft skin sent shivers of anticipation down your spine.

“I need you, Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I need all of you.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you nodded, your voice trembling with want. “Then take me, Az. I’m yours.”

A growl rumbled deep in his chest at your words, and he moved lower, kissing and nipping at your skin as he positioned himself between your thighs. The heat of his arousal pressed against you, and you felt a thrill of anticipation course through you.

He paused, his gaze locking with yours as he gently caressed your face, his touch filled with love and tenderness. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with an undercurrent of urgency. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart swelled at his concern, and you cupped his face in your hands, pulling him down for a slow, languid kiss. “I’m sure, Azriel. I want this—I want you.”

With a nod, Azriel positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, he began to push inside, the sensation of him stretching you inch by inch causing your breath to catch in your throat. He was big, and the way he filled you, inch by inch, made your toes curl in anticipation and pleasure.

“Gods,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he continued to press into you, the fullness of him overwhelming but intoxicating. “Azriel…”

He groaned as he sank deeper, his hands gripping your hips as he buried himself fully inside you. The stretch, the way he filled every part of you, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You gasped, your fingers clutching at his back, your legs wrapping around his waist as you urged him to move.

Azriel began to move, his thrusts slow and controlled at first, as if he was savoring every moment, every sensation. The rhythm he set was steady, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. You met his thrusts, your body moving in perfect sync with his, the bond between you humming with energy.

“Gods, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re so tight… so perfect.”

His words sent a flush of heat through you, and you reached up, your hands trailing along the powerful muscles of his back until you found the base of his wings. The moment your fingers brushed against the sensitive skin there, Azriel shuddered, his thrusts faltering for a moment as a low, guttural moan escaped his lips.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice raw with need. “Touch me… right there.”

You did as he asked, your fingers tracing the edges of his wings, marveling at the way they trembled under your touch. The reaction was immediate—Azriel’s thrusts became faster, more desperate, as if your touch had ignited something primal inside him.

The connection between you sparked with an intensity that made your head spin. The pleasure built, spiraling higher and higher until you thought you might lose yourself in the sensation.

Azriel’s thrusts became more powerful, his hips driving into you with a force that left you breathless. The bed creaked beneath you, but you barely noticed, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you.

You could feel the tension coiling in your lower abdomen, ready to snap at any moment. Your hands continued to caress his wings, your touch sending jolts of pleasure through him that matched the waves of ecstasy coursing through your own body.

“Azriel,” you moaned, your voice breathy with need. “I’m close… so close.”

“Me too,” he panted, his voice strained with the effort to hold himself back. “Gods, Y/N, you’re incredible.”

With one final, powerful thrust, the world around you shattered. Your climax crashed over you, your body tensing and then releasing all at once as you cried out his name. The sensation was so intense, so all-consuming, that you felt like you were floating, the bond between you and Azriel pulsing with shared pleasure.

Azriel followed you over the edge, his own release tearing through him as he shuddered above you. He groaned deeply, his wings trembling as he buried himself deep inside you, his body quaking with the force of his climax.

For a moment, the two of you remained intertwined, your bodies still connected as you both came down from the high. Azriel’s forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to steady himself.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion. “I’ve never loved anyone like this before.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with love and contentment as you stroked his cheek. “I love you too, Azriel. So much.”

He kissed you softly, the touch of his lips gentle, almost reverent. The bond between you was stronger than ever, the connection solidified by the physical and emotional closeness you had just shared.

Azriel slowly pulled out of you, leaving you both feeling slightly empty yet completely fulfilled. He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest, your bodies still tangled together.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of your breathing as you both lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared experience. The night was quiet, peaceful, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt truly whole.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. The bond between you was unbreakable, and with Azriel by your side, there was nothing you couldn’t overcome.

Well you wished you could have drifted off to sleep in the comforting embrace of Azriel, but the moment you felt his hand trailing down your back, you knew that the bat boy wasn’t ready to stop. The frenzy of the bond had a hold on both of you, and the desire that had been temporarily sated was reigniting with a vengeance.

Azriel’s lips found your neck, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your pulse. The heat of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the tension building in his body once again. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a second.

“Az,” you murmured, your voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and renewed desire. “I thought… I thought we were done.”

He chuckled against your skin, the sound low and filled with promise. “We’re never done, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with the intensity of his need. “Not until you’re completely spent… not until I’ve had my fill of you.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart raced at his words, the way your body responded to his touch, despite the exhaustion that was beginning to settle in. The frenzy was overwhelming, but you knew there was no resisting it—not when every fiber of your being craved him as much as he craved you.

Azriel rolled you onto your back, his wings flaring out behind him as he looked down at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. The sight of him like this—so strong, so powerful, and entirely focused on you—was enough to send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

“You’re insatiable,” you whispered, your voice breathless as you looked up at him.

“For you?” he growled, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Always.”

Without warning, Azriel spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. The sheer size of him, combined with the intensity of his gaze, made your breath hitch in anticipation. He wasn’t going to hold back this time, and the thought of what was to come made your core clench with need.

He entered you in one swift, powerful thrust, burying himself deep inside you. The stretch, the fullness of him, was almost too much, and yet it was exactly what you craved. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips as he set a demanding pace, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body.

“Azriel!” you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you, his pace relentless. “Oh gods, yes… don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He drove into you with a fervor that made your head spin, the bond between you humming with the intensity of your shared pleasure. His wings flared out above you, the muscles in his arms and back flexing with every movement, a testament to his strength and stamina.

But it wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. The love and desire in his eyes were enough to take your breath away, to make you feel completely consumed by him.

As his pace quickened, you felt the tension coiling in your lower abdomen, ready to snap at any moment. Azriel leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with the same urgency as his thrusts.

“I love you, Y/N,” he growled against your lips, his voice rough with need. “Let go. I want to feel you shatter around me.”

His words were your undoing. With a scream of his name, you came undone, your body convulsing with the force of your climax. The intensity of it was overwhelming, your vision blurring as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

Azriel followed you over the edge, his release hitting him with such force that his wings trembled above you. He buried himself deep inside you, his body quaking with the strength of his orgasm as he groaned your name, the sound filled with raw emotion.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop, leaving only the two of you, locked together in the aftermath of your shared release. The bond between you pulsed with energy, sealing the connection that had been forged in the heat of the frenzy.

Azriel collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he tried to catch his breath. His wings draped over you like a protective cocoon, his body warm and comforting against yours.

The way Azriel’s hands began to roam over your skin again, the heat in his gaze, told you that the night was far from over. The bond between you hummed with energy, still unsatisfied, still craving more.

As you looked into his eyes, a shiver of anticipation ran through you. The night was going to be long, and neither of you was ready to stop.

---

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kelly Link's "Book of Love"

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/13/the-kissing-song/#wrack-and-roll

Kelly Link is one of science fiction's most important writers, a master of the short story to rank with the likes of Ted Chiang. For a decade, Kelly's friends have traded whispers that she was working on a novel – a giant novel – and the rumors were true and the novel is glorious and you will love it:

https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/book-of-love-9781804548455/

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/239722/the-book-of-love-by-kelly-link/

It's called The Book of Love and it's massive – 650 pages! It is glorious. It is tricky.

If you've read Link's short stories (which honestly, you must read), you know her signature move: a bone-dry witty delivery, used to spin tales of deceptive whimsy and quirkiness, disarming you with daffiness while she sets the hook and yanks. That's the unmistakeable, inimitable texture of a Kelly Link story: deft literary brushstrokes, painting a picture so charming and silly that you don't even notice when she cuts you without mercy.

Turns out that she can quite handily do this for hundreds of pages, and the effect only gets better when it's given space to unfold.

Hard to tell you about this one without spoilers! But I'll tell you this much. It's a story about three teenaged friends who return from death and find themselves in the music room at their high school, face to face with their mild-mannered music teacher, Mr Anabin. Anabin explains what's happened in frustratingly cryptic – and very emphatic – terms, but is interrupted when a sinister shape-shifting wolf enters the music room.

This is Bogomil, and whenever he speaks, Mr Anabin turns his back – and vice versa. Anabin and Bogomil appear to be rivals, and Bogomil may or may not have been the keeper of the land of the dead from which the three have escaped. There's also a forth, a tattered shade who's been dead so long they don't remember who they are or anything about themselves. Bogomil would like to take the four back to the deadlands, but Anabin proposes a contest and Bogomil agrees – but no one explains the contest or its rules (or even its stakes) to the four dead teenagers.

That's the wind up. The pitch that follows is flawless, a long and twisting mystery about friendship, love, queerness, rock-and-roll, stardom, parenthood, loyalty, lust and duty. There's a terrifying elder god of Lovecraftian proportions. There are ghosts upon ghosts. There are ancient grudges. There are sudden revelations that come from unexpected angles but are, in retrospect, perfectly set up.

More than anything, there are characters. It's impossible not to love Link's characters, despite (because of) their self-destructive choices and their impossible dilemmas. They are so sweet, but they are also by turns mean and spiteful and resentful, like the pinch of salt that transforms a caramel from inedible spun sugar into something that bites even as it delights.

These characters, so very likable, are often dead or at death's door, and that peril propels the story like an unstoppable locomotive. From the very start, it's clear that some of them can't survive to the end, and Link is merciless in making you root for all of them, even though this means rooting against them all. This, in turn, creates moments of toe-curling, sublime horror.

Link has built a complex machine with more moving parts than anyone has any business being able to keep track of. And yet, each of these parts meshes flawlessly with all the others. The book ends with such triumphant perfection that it lingers long after you put it down. I can't wait to read this one again.

[bairdthereader]

Charlie Spring, An Appreciation: Part 2, Friendship

Charlie is often described as nerdy, shy, and awkward, the dork who is lucky enough to catch the eye of the popular boy. But that characterization does Charlie a huge disservice; it overlooks the richness of his personal life and the complexity of his inner landscape.

It also ignores the fact that he has cultivated a solid and loving friend group that he cares for in so many ways, whose devotion he earns through his own dedication and fierce loyalty. He is by no means alone or isolated when he meets Nick, he is not "desperate" in the way some people (and the horrible Ben) characterize him.

Charlie's relationship with Tao is a longstanding one, but not without its challenges. Tao isn't the easiest person to be friends with, but Charlie sees through Tao's prickly defensiveness to appreciate and love the part of Tao that feels so intensely, the part that is vulnerable and lost. And he fights for that friendship again and again.

The most beautiful example of this is on the Pont de l'Archevêché when Tao confesses that he accidentally outed Charlie the year before. This could easily and justifiably end even a strong friendship. But you can see the moment that Charlie decides his relationship with Tao is more important, that it is worth all of the pain that accidental outing caused him. He forgives instantly and completely, with no lingering resentment at all. And if that wasn't heroic enough, he follows up with the most thorough reassurance speech ever given, tailored specifically to eradicate all of Tao's most deeply held insecurities. Charlie's empathy is astounding.

Elle explains to Darcy that Charlie was her friend first, followed by Tao, which tells us that Charlie's care for her began a long time ago, and that it's lasted through all the challenges she's faced during her transition. I wish there were more moments on screen where Elle and Charlie have one-on-one conversations; there are shockingly few. But the way they speak about each other when the other isn't there is just as revealing. Elle clearly loves and understands Charlie in a unique way, and she does all she can to smooth the ragged edges between him and Tao, and lovingly supports his relationship with Nick. She does this because Charlie does the same for her, and because she knows his friendship is deep and abiding and unconditional.

Though less outwardly demonstrative than his friendships with the others, Charlie is no less caring and protective of Isaac, the friend who, I think, is the mostly gently supportive of Charlie as he navigates the early stages of his relationship with Nick. Charlie is open with Isaac when he asks for advice, but doesn't pry into why Isaac is asking a question that's so out of character; he knows Isaac processes most things internally before speaking them aloud. At prom, Charlie reminds Isaac--in a moment where he clearly feels isolated and singled out--that he is important, both to Charlie personally and to their group as a whole. A quiet person like Isaac could easily end up on the fringes of a friend group, but Charlie pulls him back in.

Charlie is also more caring with Tori than I think he's given credit for (especially at this point in the timeline and without some of the supporting backstory from the later comics and other books). Even with the limited interactions we see on screen, he's always trying to include her, trying to make sure she's not alone, while still giving her the space she feels she needs. Their bond is deep and protective, and it goes both ways. Charlie may be the younger of the two, but he's taking care of her, in his own way, as much as she is of him.

Again, I could go on and on:

This idea that Charlie is the quiet, awkward wallflower just doesn't hold up when it's so clear that he's the lynchpin of his friend group. Charlie's endless capacity for loyalty, forgiveness, empathy, and inclusion make him a champion in the lives of everyone he loves.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Sweet Nothings

(Chapter 13 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Crocodile (referenced), Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader (referenced)

Chapter Warnings: language, toxic relationship, noncon, dubious consent, drugged reader, toxic masculinity, anal sex, oral sex (female receiving), sex toys, size difference

Chapter Synopsis: On the evening of your arrival in Dressrosa, you are forced to meet with that collection of your former enemies, otherwise known as Doflamingo’s trusted inner circle. As well as spend your very first night in the royal bed chambers of your new king.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14

——————————

—————————— 

To try and explain this feeling to anyone who had never looked down the barrel of a gun, or across the edge of a sword as it swung for their throat would have been near impossible.

Because that sudden anticipation of danger was more than just adrenaline, more than only an elevated heart rate. It was like an energy through the muscles themselves. It was there in the way everything felt sharper as that door creaked open.

Trebol, Diamante, and Pica, the three remaining Donquixote family executives awaited you. Ruthless men who Tsuru would have had in sea prism chains at very first opportunity back then. 

But who, through the comedy of government immunity were now present as if they’d ascended to the role of dignitaries in their own right. Sitting on their individual thrones with the club, diamond, and spade designs carved onto those respective seat backs behind them.

And they alone would have been more than enough for you.

But this read like a staff meeting from hell as you saw all the other eyes as well. More pirates standing slightly behind those chairs. The executives’ direct subordinates, the Donquixote officers, were in attendance as well.

Some whose faces and skill sets you remembered better than others. But no matter their age or gender, all equally untrustworthy in your mind. Because of their fanatical loyalty solely to the smiling man now stalking across that plush carpet right behind you.

You’d moved purposefully to stay ahead of Doflamingo, getting as close to one of the massive windows as you could.

A window you knew you could still break. An exit and the only thing in this room you would put your back to as you let your body lean into that windowsill. This took some of the pressure off your weaker leg in the meantime. But your feet were flexing within your shoes regardless.

You were still ready to move. 

You saw Diamante’s blue eyes already lingering over your bandaged thigh. And you knew exactly what his thought process must be.

There’d be no easy escape for you today.

Your wings were clipped this time.

They all knew it.

You heard a heavy breathing as well that was becoming closer and closer to a laugh. From Trebol of course in that otherwise near silence as Doflamingo hesitated.

It was as if their king was taking it all in and observing that everyone who mattered to him was actually here before he finally spoke.

“I’ll keep this brief. I know we’re all busy.” He said.

You had your arms crossed from your place at the windowsill. A posture that would have let you block your torso and reach for your weapon all at once.

But when Doflamingo turned, now facing you instead of them, it was humiliating how quickly your full attention went back to him and him alone. 

And he noticed of course. It was all over that smug expression on his handsome face as he approached you.

There was nothing you could do but stare in return, your surprise barely hidden as he’d then turned again to sit on that same windowsill beside you.

Hip to hip actually, intentionally tight together as you had to put even more weight onto your other leg not to be visibly pushed aside by him.

Another show of dominance was what it felt like as you were put right back into that tight aura of his cologne and body heat once more. 

He was showing his claim on you in front of everyone.

“The captain will be staying with us. With me.” Doflamingo still emphasized even on top of that clear body language. Speaking while his fingers briefly tightened on the windowsill. 

“We’ve all had our past grievances of course…but that past is gone. And as I’ve said before, a new era will be coming. We must adapt or fall behind. Pirate…marine, these meanings have always changed with the times. And it’s changing again here. At least for us. This is a taste of our future.”

And as he began to tell them these things, you felt his hand slide back over your thigh.

The additional touch was not unexpected, but the new words which accompanied it were. Because what did their future possibly have to do with you? You were only his bauble, his fixation.

You had expected to be paraded in front of his crew of course. You had expected petty revenge and gloating in reward for all those years of your crew pursuing his. But you were experiencing something else now as Doflamingo’s smile faded in tandem with his grip on your leg growing even harder.

“You are all my family. I should have included you more in this…” And his voice was changing a little too then. There was almost a moment of self-reflection there, the briefest hint of an actual apology. “I know it’s moving so quickly. But I had to make a decision and I had to make it fast when we ran into trouble in Scylla.”

We?

Only you had been hurt in Scylla. Not him. He hadn’t even been attacked. But the way he’d said it suggested otherwise.

“You shouldn’t have had to find out just from the newspapers. But my hand was forced. She needed to come home immediately. Momonga wouldn’t have had a clue how to protect her.”

And a sound came out of you at that, one of indignation surely. But the moment your body had moved to reflexively stand, Doflamingo had pushed you back down without even looking. His hand that had been on your thigh held you down across both of your legs then to the windowsill, strong as any chain.

Whether you were more insulted on Momonga’s behalf or your own was left unclear.

Because the highest pitched, most unnatural voice chirped up as Pica was the first of the Donquixote crew to respond to their leader’s words. “It’s okay, Doffy. We know you’ll always do what’s best for the family!”

Thankfully you had heard Pica’s voice before, so it wasn’t as fully jarring as it could have been. But he still interrupted your anger just for that moment as your brain had had to process the noise.

And once he had spoken, as if trying to comfort Doflamingo, it broke the thick tension in the room enough for more voices to begin joining in.

“So are you engaged after all, young master? May I paint the official announcement then!? I have so many ideas practically flowing from me already!”

Giolla. A nightmare of a woman. 

You remembered waking up screaming with your fellow tent mates one night. Camping deeply inland on a mission, when all of the blankets were suddenly a disgusting yellow and green neon. That fabric wrapped around most of your throats before the tent collapsed. You’d all had to either cut your way out or succumb while she’d cackled in the distance.

“She doesn’t have a ring though!” A younger female voice interrupted there. It’d come from a teenage brunette who was still somewhat concealed behind Pica’s chair.

Baby 5. Not a harmless opponent either in how many times you’d had to backtrack to avoid receiving too much of her suppressive fire. It turned out even kids weren’t nearly as cute once they could transform one of their legs into a gatling gun to shatter walls around you.

But familiar or not, you’d never been on this side of it. You’d never seen Doflamingo’s responses to them without the pressures of being in the midst of battle.

There was a shocking amount of patience in the way his body actually started to relax. Even as they talked over one another, you saw his face turn to look at them. Giving attention to each officer individually, as if this circus was every day and then some for him.

“Thank you, Pica. I am trying to do what’s going to payoff best for us in both present and future.” He said to his executive first. 

And then to Giolla. “I’m not calling it an engagement yet to the public. My priority was getting home first without interference. But it will be soon.”

Finally to Baby 5, “Well, you aren’t wrong. I��ll be needing to correct that, won’t I?” 

His hand moved again suddenly at that, grabbing your left wrist to force you to uncross your arms.

You did pull back with some resistance. You were not his fucking posable doll after all. But he smirked at this, his grip increasing enough to immediately hurt while he still turned your hand as if to show them all your unadorned fingers.

“I was thinking diamond with ruby accents. You know how I like red.” He added.

“Sugar and I could help you pick something out, young master.” A young woman who looked to be nearest your own age spoke then. But her face you didn’t know. At least you didn’t remember ever fighting her. Nor did you recognize the small girl with the blue green hair standing beside her either. The little girl who was now giving you a rather cold stare.

“That would be fine, Monet.” Doflamingo answered the young woman, letting your hand slip away from him again then. 

But he stood back away from the windowsill not long after. “We’ll have a bit of time to make all these plans. For now though, the press will be hanging around the island wanting the latest scoop I’m sure. And no one says anything to them without my permission, is that understood?”

“Yes, Doffy,” and “Yes, young master,” came from several of them simultaneously then. No question in them at all.

And he seemed reasonably satisfied in this.

Enough so that you hoped this meeting was nearly adjourned before he turned again, hands in his pockets now as he grinned directly at you. Those bright teeth exposed once more. But his eyes narrowing behind his red lenses all the same from the way his brow had shifted.

“And do you have anything to say to everyone, love? Or have I adopted another mute marine into our home?”

Your own eyebrows raised. The pet name being used in front of his crew not even registering to you while you considered his other odd wording instead.

Another marine?

But you were on autopilot in reaction to all of this regardless. In uniform, surrounded by old enemies. What else did he expect from you as you just answered so mechanically.

“I have nothing. But I’m required to report in to HQ at least once a day and it’s getting late.”

And you knew you did want them all to remember that you were still an active duty marine. A marine who had been based in HQ with all the direct contacts that entailed. 

Even a vague threat was better than nothing.

Or at least you’d thought so before you saw that inexplicable look of disappointment darken Doflamingo’s features.

He was staring at you. Like he wanted to say something else, but quickly changed his mind. “I meant…no, screw it. Never mind.” And he took a hand back out of his pocket to motion to the others instead. 

“Giolla and Baby 5, I need you to escort the captain to the palace physician. Get them to properly clean and rebind that wound of hers. And have some real pain killers prescribed. I’m tired of seeing her just limp around.”

He’d put his back to you now though as he’d stepped even further away. 

It was like…you had insulted him? With goddamn what? Were you supposed to gush about all of this to his family? Were you meant to be excited like being here was some kind of reward for you?

“Show her to her room after you’re done with the doctor.” Doflamingo also instructed them. “I need to talk with the executives alone for some further updates on business since I’ve been gone. The rest of you are dismissed back to your normal posts.”

And he did not look at you again as Giolla approached you with no fear. 

“Then come on, sailor girl.” She said rather haughtily actually. “You’ll get lost otherwise. This castle is far more building than you’re used to I’m sure.”

And you gave her an annoyed look. What did she think Marineford was? A bungalow?

Baby 5 just followed behind you both quietly though. And you didn’t really like the girl at your back either. But as you glanced behind to check, it bothered you even more how much Doflamingo still would not acknowledge your exit at all.

Such a sudden contrast with as much as he couldn’t go without physical contact with you mere moments ago.

Whatever. 

And you were nearly limping by then, just as he’d said. As much as you tried to prevent it, following Giolla out of the room while Baby 5 shadowed behind you.

——————————

When all but his three executives had exited, and the door had been safely closed again, Doflamingo finally sighed.

He tilted his head back, looking to the ceiling briefly as if some answer may be written there for him before his smile returned reflexively. 

He laughed abruptly in absence of any other outlet.

“Fuck…it has been a weird week.” He announced, putting his hands behind his head, and stretching his torso slightly as he breathed out, like letting more of that tension dissolve from his muscles before he relaxed again.

His head tilted down to look at the others once more as his hands moved back into his pockets.

“She acts so much like Tsuru, doesn’t she?” Diamante said to him with a smirk then, elbow resting against the diamond seat’s armrest as his fist propped up his cheek. “So guarded.”

“Feh. Well, I blame you two. Could you have eye fucked her any harder than that, Diamante?” Doflamingo complained in immediate response, but still relaxed enough to show that this was more familial annoyance than actual anger. “Pica was the only goddamn gentleman here.”

Trebol snorted, mucus hanging from his face as always. “But I didn’t do anything, Doffy!”

“You were breathing like you were about to suck her face, Trebol. Pay the fucking pool girls more, go get laid. Goddamn.” Doflamingo grumbled to that.

“I was just observing her wounds,” Diamante replied calmly, but smiling back at his master none the less.

They’d all known each other long enough to understand where the real lines were. And this wasn’t yet it.

“Yeah, trying to see the slit under her skirt you mean, not the one on her thigh.” Doflamingo’s lip curled in a bit of further annoyance regardless.

“Well, Doffy, was is it as good as you thought it’d be?” Trebol asked abruptly.

Which brought an immediate noise of disgust from Pica.

“Oh shut up.” Trebol fussed to Pica’s obvious judgement. “Doffy chased this one for years! Why wouldn’t we ask!?”

“I thought we were going to talk about business.” Pica squeaked.

“If it was Sir Crocodile, Pica would be far more interested.” Diamante teased. “Just because it pees sitting down, you don’t want it. But the rest of us are far more equal opportunity.”

Doflamingo groaned. “We don’t pick on Pica for that.”

“Thank you, Doffy.” Pica huffed.

“But yes, it was goddamn good.” Doflamingo still answered Trebol regardless. “And oh, she wanted it. Scylla was a nonstop fuckfest until that little Nefertari cunt got in the way.” 

Pica looked to the side, unimpressed, but Trebol flailed in his own chair a bit. “Behehe! I knew it!”

And of course it was difficult to say how much of this filthy talk was genuine, and how much was just the masculine posturing Doflamingo had learned that they expected from him.

But it was all part of the game, bravado and such. This boys’ club, only made even more extreme in their unique lack of morals and shared need to compensate for so many shortcomings to start with.

“Though you mention the reptile…” Doflamingo did feel that tension in his stomach beginning again in reference to that prick. “He’s a lot of the reason I had to take her and run. I wasn’t planning on bringing her here so soon. But plans changed.”

And all three of the executives were now looking at him seriously.

“It was Crocodile’s agents that attacked at that ball. I even talked to the fucker on a snail. He was so shitty to me as always.” 

“The audacity!” Diamante spat, genuinely looking angry then as he straightened up in his chair so quickly.

“We should just go to Alabasta and kill him, Doffy! Let’s do it for real this time!” Trebol’s voice also immediately sharpened, snot spilling out over each armrest of the club seat in his agitation.

Only Pica seemed contemplative, before responding far more calmly by comparison. “I’m so sorry, Doffy. He doesn’t see your worth. But he never has.” And it wasn’t patronizing at all. Somehow it never was from Pica. 

The room was quiet after that as well. Doflamingo’s hands clenching within his pockets as he bit his bottom lip slightly. Just before another smile spread across his face to erase that fleeting emotion. “It’s fine.” He said. “I told gator boy that he’d already been replaced. But I’m not sure if he’s done. I don’t think that he is. I feel like he’s going to make some kind of move on her just to spite me. Perhaps it’s paranoia on my part…but I’m not sure.”

“She’ll be safe here, Doffy.” Pica assured.

And Doflamingo did take another deep breath. That was something else he needed to get off of his chest as well. “Yeah, about that...” He paused again, but only briefly before he just forced the words out. There was no reason to play around. Not with them. “I’m reinstating the rule of blood effective immediately. That marine is now under its protection. I want you to tell your subordinates. But she’s not to know.”

And to watch the initial surprise wash across his executives’ faces, followed by the gradual dawn of what it could actually mean for you was strange to witness even for the warlord.

But he did not back down in response to their shock. Though Diamante was the first to ask the question aloud. Something Doflamingo never would have thought would one day be discussed here within the Hall of Suits.

“Young master…are you implying that that girl is…with child?” 

Only Donquixote blood had ever met this standard within his group. To be protected and guarded, punished under penalty of death to those that would dare spill even a drop of it.

“She will be.” Doflamingo answered so firmly, no hesitation that time. “Because this is what I want. And the heart seat has sat empty long enough.”

He was staring at that empty chair now as he tried to keep the resulting stress from his voice. The pain which came every time he considered who that chair really should have been meant for. 

“Can’t you imagine it, gentlemen? We haven’t had a proper new recruit in so long. They always disappoint us in the end…or betray. Because of that innate weakness within them. But how could anyone that came from my own body ever fail to that degree? Someone that I’ll be able to shape straight from its mother’s womb this time. Don’t you want to find out?”

“A royal heir.” Pica said in sudden awe.

“A new demon to be your right hand in this world.” Trebol added, cruel eyes looking over the top of his own sunglasses then.

“All that and more.” Doflamingo sneered. “A new generation of Donquixote blood. My blood.”

————————— 

The doctor hadn’t been terrible. You could tell he was obviously a civilian. The Donquixote family didn’t actually have a physician within their crew. Which, yes, what self respecting doctor could have tolerated them and their violence for long after taking any oath to heal?

But this whole thing with going back to the room after your leg had been fully redressed was its own new weirdness.

You’d reasonably assumed that you’d get no privacy of your own in this place. So the fact that they were saying that this was your room was wholly contradictory to all the possessive claims Doflamingo had made from the very beginning. All that talk of having you beside him in his bed alone at first opportunity and all.

And walking around in your so called room with Giolla and Baby 5 now, it was hard to imagine even the king’s chambers being much bigger than this. The layout was beautiful and spotless, clearly recently cleaned. Large windows had their heavy red curtains pulled open for so much natural light as you’d walked to one of them.

Giolla was still rattling on about all the color changes she’d make if allowed, calling the room a blank canvas in an almost angry way. But the real view in the distance had soon caught your eye as you’d stared out of the window, fully ignoring her.

“That’s Flower Hill.” Came the other voice then.

You gave Baby 5 a sharp look as you didn’t like being snuck up on that way. But she wasn’t even looking at you, her entire focus was beyond the palace as well.

“I wish my bedroom faced it.” She sighed, but then smiled. “You should ask the young master to take you there if you like flowers. I bet he would. He doesn’t get out much. He’s always working. It’d be good for him.”

“You don’t have to pretend, Baby 5. And you don’t have to talk to me just because he told you to.” You replied simply. Not cold, just honest before you turned back away from that window to keep exploring. 

You could understand why he’d sent Giolla. Maybe not trusting you alone with his male crew just yet. And that woman was still capable enough with her devil fruit to give you a hard time if you’d tried anything.

But with Baby 5, Doflamingo already knew your weakness for kids. Though she appeared to be a teen now. 

That really young looking girl with the blue green hair probably would have made more sense to use if he was going to scheme that way. But that girl had almost been staring daggers through you during the entire meeting, so perhaps not.

“Huh?” You heard Baby 5 ask anyway though, still following you as you’d walked to what at first you’d thought was a door to the bathroom. Just to find it was actually a whole walk in closet. Actually you could have probably jogged a small lap in it. 

“Goddamn.” You cursed, seeing the dresses already hanging in there.

“Whattttt!?” Baby 5 gasped, immediately running in as she realized it was fully stocked as well. She looked from the dresses to the shoes, to the jewelry. She was almost trembling as she touched some of the fabric in surprise. “This wasn’t even here yesterday! Giolla! Giolla, look!” She whined.

“Oh, calm down. They were delivered this morning.” Giolla scoffed, still eyeballing the blank walls.

Baby 5 seemed to have forgotten about you entirely then. She was now sorting through the necklaces, eyes looking rather wet as she held up one after another.

You sighed, again remembering exactly where you were. Pirates and their damn treasure…and this all bought with blood money you were sure. Nothing you wanted to be a part of. “Take as much as you want if your boss doesn’t care. I don’t wear that stuff anyway.” You told the girl.

Her head whipped around immediately. “I…can I? Can I!?”

She was excited enough that you backed up slightly, almost concerned that she might hug you. You barely knew one another. “If Doflamingo doesn’t care…” You reaffirmed. Even with her only being a pirate, you wouldn’t intentionally get a teenager in trouble with him.

“If I don’t care about what?” Came that unmistakable voice from the still open doorway though.

And all three of you looked immediately in his direction. Which again, it should have been humiliating how quickly you stilled just with the return of his presence. You did feel his eyes on you now.

But Baby 5 had already dashed past you, her hands full of several necklaces as she bowed at the waist to him. “Young master! The marine said I could have these! May I!? Please!? She said I could!”

Giolla rolled her eyes behind her pointed cat eye glasses. “Quit bothering him! You’re so whiny sometimes, girl.”

But Doflamingo only smiled, hands in his pockets as he strolled right past Baby 5. “I guess if this marine said you could…”

“Thank you, young master!” And Baby 5 was back out that door with the jewelry in a flash. As if she didn’t want anyone to have a chance to change their mind.

“Young master…” Giolla sighed. “She’ll just pawn them or someone else will steal them from her.”

“I know.” Yet he had walked over to you even as he answered her. “But it made her happy for a moment didn’t it?”

And you were staring at him, uncertain if that exchange was all in show for you or not.

“Thanks for babysitting, Giolla. I can take it from here.” He was grinning in response to your stare. “I’m done working for tonight.”

“Very well. But I still think this wall would be far better served with a mural. Cubism with fiery reds, pinks, and hmm…blues? Like a volcano meeting the summer sky!” 

“Good night, Giolla.” Doflamingo said rather gently.

“Good night, young master!” She responded, yet still somewhat distracted as she had walked out still mumbling something about compatible color palettes.

When the door had shut again, you found yourself alone with the warlord once more as you’d looked up into those shining sunglasses.

“She was babysitting me, huh?” You asked him, though still considering his posture carefully. Was he back in a better mood now?

“Somebody has to,” He smirked, and then he did reach up, moving his sunglasses back up into his hair in order to really look at you.

You blinked, still not used to that reveal each time. Especially not when you got to watch those expressive eyes actually relax at you. 

“You were being a bitch earlier you know.” He said calmly. “Why wouldn’t you talk to my family?”

So you’d been right. He’d given you the cold shoulder at the end of that meeting all because he’d thought you didn’t handle that forced socialization like he wanted you to?

“Yeah, let me just sit you down with Garp or Akainu some day and see how that goes.” You only half joked, easily admitting that that wasn’t a scenario that’d likely go very well for you either. Not with the admiral at least. “Akainu hates me too though. And he’s the only one that answered the damn phone earlier. Lucky me.”

And you saw Doflamingo’s expression change. Like he was trying to digest one thing at a time. “You called Akainu?” His thin eyebrows raised.

“No. I called Tsuru, but it never would connect. They must be out of range again. So then I called HQ and they said Sengoku and Garp were out of the office. So I asked for an admiral. And lo and behold, only one wasn’t already on the phone.”

“And why does he hate you?” Doflamingo asked next.

There was something sadly funny in it too. You knew you shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. Not to a pirate. But somehow you just didn’t care in this moment either.

“I think he knows how stupid I really am.” Was what you finally said. Rarely were you this self deprecating out loud. But it was obviously true this time.

It must be, because Doflamingo was standing so close to you again. And you didn’t stop yourself. 

You were the one that reached for him first. Worn down and so isolated here among old enemies. The need for his warmth was abruptly overwhelming to you. 

And with the way Doflamingo tensed, you’d surprised him as well as your arms went around his bare waist, under his open shirt and that pink feather coat as you laid the side of your face against his torso. Skin to skin.

He silenced, still looking down at you as you actually hugged him. You hugged the goddamn warlord who had brought you here like only a conquered object on parade.

But within seconds a large hand was on your back, keeping you close as he stroked you from your shoulder blades down to just below your hips.

“So this is how it’s going to be, hmm?” He murmured and you felt the muscles in his abdomen relaxing again. “You’re going to be a bitch marine in front of my crew, but then come cuddling up to me when you’re tired and we’re finally alone?”

“I don’t know.” You said honestly. There was no precedent for this. “You still feel good.”

“So do you.” He did agree. But then you felt yourself being lifted easily again. “But this is your room. Come on, woman.”

“What?” You asked, confused as he carried you right past your bed.

Those pain killers the doctor had prescribed were on the nightstand in a bottle there as he saw and pocketed them however. 

You just watched as he walked over to a stone book shelf in the corner next. Holding you up with one arm, his other hand pulled his strings to make that shelf move open on a hidden hinge.

Your eyes widened as you felt the air movement that emerged. You heard him chuckle as your grip had tightened on him and he slipped into that narrow passage with you. Him being careful actually to not let you scrape the wall before he’d continued out into the darkness and with another sound of moving stone, new light poured through.

Dimmer, and with more hues of red however as the sun was now setting through the windows of this new room. Yes, you’d thought your room had been large. And you’d been entirely wrong. As this was practically a residence in its own right, now sprawled before you as you tried to take in the true size of it.

“This castle predates Mariejois.” He said carefully. “And these connecting spaces were the original royal chambers before Riku’s bloodline tried to change everything. They thought this was too ostentatious, too big for any one family. They used these as storage and public meeting areas instead and moved their own bed chambers to lower floors. But when I took over…I put it back to how it should be. This was the original king’s chambers. Connecting to the other rooms of his spouse and children through those passage ways. So that they could all come and go while never having to fully interact with the lesser court and staff in the rest of the castle.”

You couldn’t imagine anyone ever being this rich. Even with it laid out here right in front of you. With a main locked door that still shut this off from the more public palace corridor. Just in what you could see right now, there was an open living area, a large sitting room with paintings and statues, and a separate hallway that must lead to the actual king bed chamber and bath.

“You live here…alone?” You asked with your arms still loosely around his neck as he held you in his arms. 

“I did.” He answered. 

And there was a new nervousness in you in the way you felt him carrying you down that hallway to his bedroom. Right past a fully stocked bar of wine, rum, beer, vodka, and gods knew what else. 

He’d brought you over a threshold once before on his ship. But this was even more personal, even more private as that massive bed came into view. 

With all of this before you…for the very first time you did really believe that this was what it meant to be in the intimate company of the King of Dressrosa. And you did not know how to feel about that.

“Doffy…” You tried. You knew he had talked about wanting this. But if he got too absorbed in his fantasies again, he could lose self control like before. He would really hurt you again.

“Take the pain killer.” He insisted, and then he was sitting on that dark bed with you in his lap as he pulled the bottle back out of his coat pocket. “Or am I going to have to force feed you this?”

“Why are you so adamant?” You asked, with your voice beginning to sound even more worried.

“Because I don’t feel like getting my ribs broken when you arbitrarily decide the lovemaking hurts too much.”

And you took a breath. Part of you immediately angry that he would even insinuate that you had somehow overreacted when punching him that hard the last time he’d hurt you during sex, on his ship on the way here.

And yet, another part of your brain was also hitching on the sudden shift in semantics which led him to call that activity lovemaking for the very first time.

The two feelings somewhat cancelled each other out honestly as you just looked at him without finding something to really say in response.

“And there you go not talking again. Don’t do that shit. It’s annoying.” He huffed, opening the pill bottle now.

“I’m not taking those dry.” You finally said then. 

And he did smirk there. “Oh you weak thing. You want it to be wet to wash these down…you want it to be wet when I put it in you. Can’t you ever just take things as they are?”

“Can’t you ever be gentle?” You retorted right back at him there at least.

He grinned, but sliding you out of his lap as he stood from the bed. Leaving you alone on its edge as he walked to the nearest snail on an end table.

“Feh. You’d get bored of that real fast. But in the name of variety…yes. I sometimes can.” And he clicked that snail, still with the pill bottle in his other hand.

“Yes, your highness?” A hurried voice immediately came from the other end.

“Bring up dinner to my chambers. With plates, utensils, and water for two.”

“Yes, right away, sir. And would you like dessert for two as well?”

He hesitated. “What is the dessert tonight?”

“Flores de hojaldre, sir.” They quickly replied.

He glanced at you, and the look you gave was entirely unhelpful as you had no idea what that even was.

But his resulting smile told you that he obviously did. “Yeah, that for two as well.”

“Your order is placed with the chef, sir. We will have it up momentarily.”

And they weren’t kidding. You’d basically only had time to take off your boots and coat. Which he put away for you somewhere. 

Then before you knew it he’d unlocked the door out in the living area and servants had rolled a cart in and up to a dining table in yet another section out there. They served the food and set everything before discreetly disappearing just as quickly as they’d come.

The table was the expected rectangular shape. It looked about as old as the castle itself, heavy and wooden as you approached, noting his obvious seat at the head of it. But your place had been set just on his left.

On his blind side. Yet, he seemed comfortable with that as you’d joined him. He had put his sunglasses back on in the lantern light. But then raised them into his hair again once the servants had left.

And finally you did take just two of those pain pills with a goblet of ice water as you watched that lantern light moving on his cheek bones.

“Happy now?” You asked him.

“Very,” he smiled. But he was already eating. This time the entree was a roasted pork dish with a pepper sauce.

And you were eating too, but slower than him as you were still taking in all the details. They’d already uncovered the dessert tray before leaving. And you hated to admit, but it was that old cliche of almost looking too good to eat. 

They were little pastries that looked like roses. But even prettier than the real thing actually. Flowers made from the pastry sheet being layered over and over like petals and dusted with powdered sugar and a drizzle of honey.

“You like flowers?” Doflamingo asked after he’d taken another deep drink of the water himself, noticing you still examining one of those desserts.

At least he’d be sober tonight you thought. No open alcohol to be seen yet.

“I guess?” You answered.

“What do you mean you guess?” He mocked rather quickly though.

You shrugged. “Flowers aren’t really something we get to have at sea. There’s nowhere to plant them.”

“You’re far too sheltered.” He scoffed anyway. “I think I’ll need to complain to Tsuru.”

And you rolled your eyes, taking another drink too.

But it did all feel strangely casual. Enough that you were able to ask something else.

“So are you really going to waste money on some fancy ring? You know I can’t wear that when I fight. It’ll catch on everything and get in my way.”

And his attention did refocus there as he turned his head to see you fully. His eyes were more cautious again. “I didn’t say you had to wear it every day. An engagement ring is for show. But you are getting a wedding band. I don’t care if you break someone’s nose again with it. They’re going to know you aren’t available any longer as you crush them.”

“And will the king be wearing one as well?” You asked a little more bratty there, not fully on board with being tagged this way yourself honestly.

“Of course.” He smiled almost darkly however. “But I’m not saying that would solve all of our problems. A piece of metal is nothing to most. You’ll still need to protect your territory.”

“My what?” 

And he gave you a skeptical look. But then acted like you were just that simple and needed this more clearly laid out for you. “You don’t want anyone else fucking me, correct? So you have to claim me.”

Well you had been enjoying your food. Did things have to go here? Did he need his ego stroked again this soon?

“I don’t want a STD secondhand from a pool girl, no. If that’s what you’re asking. Do you at least make them get tested regularly?” The better brothels usually did, as well as providing effective contraceptive at all times of course.

Only the shitholes like where you’d grown up in didn’t. Which is how you’d been born at all. You and so many other of those brothel kids that you’d helped take care of right up until the time you finally escaped with Tsuru.

And Doflamingo did scowl then. He wanted to be flattered, to feel that you wanted him all to yourself you were sure. He did not want to be suddenly lectured on best healthcare practices with his pool whores.

“I told you I always use protection with everyone else.” He muttered.

“They don’t suck it with a condom over you I’m sure. And condoms can break.” Especially as well endowed and rough as he always was actually.

He was clearly getting irritated though. “So what are you supposing we do? Are you going to stay here with your legs open for me day and night so that I don’t need backup options? I thought you wanted to keep sailing.”

And finally you did look a little more hurt yourself there. Though you shouldn’t have. It was a ridiculous and gross conversation to even be having when you already knew the answer. “Just being available isn’t enough to make a man love me or be faithful. You’re going to fuck who you want to and there’s nothing I can do about it. So don’t even pretend otherwise.”

And you’d heard the resulting growl just before he’d moved. Even with his usual temper, it didn’t make sense to you that this particular truth would have goaded him like this.

A long arm had shot across that corner of the table to catch you by the jaw. “You stupid woman.” He forced you to look up at him further in your surprise.

“I don’t want fodder any longer. But if you think love is something just freely given and not fought and killed for, then that’s exactly why you’ve never had it!”

And it wasn’t his grip alone that had your heart feeling so suddenly off pace with that outburst. It was the strange look in his eyes. And it was whatever was abruptly in your own voice as you’d retorted just as fiercely before you could stop yourself.

He’d hit that nerve within you.

“What are you talking about!? I did fight for it! Every time I could and they still didn’t care!” You heard those words from your own mouth. But it felt like someone else was saying them for you.

And his eyes narrowed. His hand did not let go of your jaw. “Then who? Who did you waste that energy on?” You saw the way even his left eye seemed to be focusing on you from beyond the scar tissue now. It put a chill through you as he asked something so much worse and you froze. “Who did you ever love?”

There was no possible response that would’t make this immediately worse for you. He’d know if you lied. He’d know if you told the truth.

Why in hell was he doing this?

“Answer me!” He hissed.

And he was going to fucking dislocate your jaw if he squeezed much harder.

You had no choice as that twisting sensation went through your chest. You didn’t think, you didn’t plan. That name came straight from those old feelings alone as you let it go.

“Kuzan….it was just Kuzan.”

It didn’t matter how brief your time with that fellow marine had really been. Because you’d chased the same feeling in every man after him hadn’t you? That safety and level of affection that had never been repeated.

And you saw the immediate change in Doflamingo’s eyes at that revelation. Like a mirror to your own when he now saw something he couldn’t take back. Something he could never undo in you, no matter how hard you knew he was going to try.

“Just because he fucked you first!?” Came the initial petulant response. “I told you I would have! I wanted you before he even knew who you were!”

And it was beginning to hurt inside of you again. More pain than even his vice like grip as the desperation grew.

“It wasn’t about timing!” You cried back at him. “He didn’t want anything from me! I chose him, I went after him! I let him be the first because I already had those feelings…”

And Doflamingo’s chest heaved. You saw his lips draw tight, pulling away from his teeth. And for all that was holy, you could swear you heard that man’s voice start to break. “You were too fucking young to know the difference! You don’t know what love is! I know that you don’t!”

He was fully yelling at you then. His arm that still held your face was trembling.

Tears were starting in your eyes. And then he said it, like a gunshot.

“Because I love you! Only me! Do you understand!? Why the fuck do you think I would put myself through all of this!? I could have any bitch! Any man! Because you’re all goddamn trash! But I get to choose who I want! I get to choose who to take and who to spare to be at my side!”

And he’d shoved you in full disgust then, your head hitting the seat back of your chair as he’d let you go.

You saw the way the muscles in his face moved. A terrifying combination of rage and grief as you shuddered in return, waiting for him to come out of his seat after you.

But he didn’t. He was breathing too hard, his bare chest still rising and falling as he stared at you unblinking.

And you were left shaking in response. This new habit that only he seemed capable of bringing out in you. Your body had no idea how to otherwise dispel these intense emotions.

And he exhaled loudly. His fist was clenched against the table top. “I want you to be my wife. That’s why you’re here! I don’t care about your past. Just do what I’m telling you to do. It’s as simple as signing a goddamn piece of paper. Do it before anyone else fucks this up for us. Then when you’re ready, we can go back to Scylla. Together. We’ll have the kind of ceremony that we deserve.”

He was bargaining so suddenly there. From full rage back to bargaining. There was a true desperation in it all as his anger visibly weakened. The mounting stress was eating that power back away from him.

“Say yes goddamn it.” He growled anyway when you still didn’t respond quickly enough.

But you couldn’t find any words. Your throat felt too tight as you finally just nodded at him. Tears were stained all down your face by now.

And the blood vessels in his forehead were pulsing as you heard his teeth grit when the top and bottom briefly slid against one another. 

You knew that neither of you were going to eat anymore tonight as he did stand then and pushed his chair back.

His grip was on your arm shortly after as he pulled you out of your own chair.

You didn’t resist, but you didn’t look at him either as he picked you up in his arms again.

And he said nothing this time as he carried you back to that royal bed chamber.

No words at all as he’d let you down on the bed shortly after, and then started taking off his clothes. The sunglasses he set down on another small table nearby. His coat he’d already hung up before eating. Now just leaving his shoes, shirt, and pants as he took those off one by one before casting them to the floor.

He was fully nude as he then kneeled onto the bed and starting undressing you as well.

And you just let him. Your own mind still so confused, so overwhelmed as you felt his glare across you.

It was all done in terrible silence as your shirt was unbuttoned, and he reached behind your back to unhook your bra with one hand. He slid them both off of you, tossed into that same pile with his own clothes before your skirt and then underwear joined them.

He did pause there, like observing your naked body in full regardless. Before taking another stressed breath and backing back off of the bed to return his feet to the floor. 

You could see his erection already starting to rise before he grabbed you by the ankles and dragged you until your slit was exposed to him at the very edge of the mattress.

He was on his knees again then, in some sick way resembling someone about to pray before he spread your legs just enough to bend down and put his face abruptly between them.

Nothing with him should have surprised you by now. 

But your thighs immediately tried to close at the sensation, and you felt the small metal hoops of Doflamingo’s earrings rubbing against that skin as his tongue pushed out as hard as possible against your entrance.

That pink muscle so long and so very wet as it probed just inside of you, before he undulated it roughly across the outside again. Along the entire length of your slit, all the way from your rectum to up against your clit. He gave attention to it all without ever uttering another word. Deep, long licks as your breathing deepened and your thighs still tensed around him.

And with your legs over his shoulders, he even began kissing you there as well. You felt his lips, softer than they had any right to be while they moved over your clit. His nose pressing you, but his body language still frustrated even as he began to suck that bundle of your nerves so carefully

Never had he been as purposeful and slow as this. Just moving from one part to another. Not even trying specifically to make you cum as he so easily could have if he’d forced the stimulation any faster already.

He alternated attention to your thighs as well. Kissing and licking them too as you still kept them relatively close around his head.

His large hands were still holding your legs apart though, stroking them as well. And surely able to feel whenever they finally started to have that involuntary tremor. He even paused when you did. Letting you ride those little orgasms to their completion instead of over stimulating you to interrupt them.

But even then you were mostly quiet. Little sighs and mewls all that he could force out of you as your mind still churned. Why was he doing this?

He wanted something. You just didn’t know what.

And as time did pass, you realized that even though you were still awake, things started to feel more dulled. You knew what he was doing with his mouth, and you knew how good it felt. But it still seemed so distant after a while.

Further confusing to you as he did eventually stand so much later and you finally heard him say something again. His voice sounded far more even now. “How do you feel? You’re so wet…and I can’t wait much longer. But we’ll still start off with something smaller. Only for you…this is for you.”

And you didn’t understand at all what he was doing as he left you briefly to dig in the drawer of one of his end tables. Though you did at last make the realization of why everything seemed so muted and numbed.

It was the pain killers. They were whatever strength Doflamingo had wanted to be given to you weren’t they? And he’d been so pushy about you taking them. This was the result. This is what he’d been stalling for, wasn’t it? He’d wanted to make sure they had time to work.

To leave you sluggish and unable to fully feel as he repositioned you now. He’d moved you up the bed. You still lying on your back, and him now opening your legs again as you realized he had something in his hand. 

“It’s just a toy. Relax.” He said. Almost softly really as you watched that lube slicked dildo get lowered towards your wet core.

But he passed it. He went lower as you felt that tip press your exit instead.

Of course he immediately saw that look of fear on your face.

And he was trying so hard to hold back a smile. “Finally making more sense now? Why do you think I haven’t done this to you before? You’re just small, lover…compared to me at least. I knew I’d need enough time…enough toys to begin this process. Even some extra meds to keep you from beating me black and blue when it really starts. Isn’t that right?”

And you still gasped as he slid that toy gradually inside of you. Your rectum stretching slowly in a sensation you’d never experienced before.

And he was so very hard between his own legs as he watched your every change in expression while that dildo forged further and further upward.

“Doffy…” You found you could still speak then, and he heard that bit of panic already in your tone as his other hand reached out to stroke your hair.

“No, it’s pointless to do that.” He was chiding your anxiety. “It always seems like it won’t fit until it does. I’ll fill you so well, woman…”

He really had waited then. He’d planned this. And should you have ever been surprised? Of course he would see every part of your body as belonging to him. 

But could you even tell him?

You had to. Even with the amount of prep he seemed to already be taking, you were still so afraid. And with good reason.

“But I…” You tried again, your thigh actually quivering a little again as he started to thrust that dildo gently in test.

It did feel similar, but not. It was still so different than anything that you’d had done to you before.

He just thought you were intimidated by his size. And of course you were. He’d already torn you in the front more than once through his own carelessness. 

But this was more than that though. Even as you made another gasping sound as he began pumping that dildo in and out your hole even harder.

It was still so uncomfortable. But you were determined to speak as you finally got those words out. “I’ve…never done this.” You breathed, feeling the mess of that lube already slipping back out of you with the wet sound the toy was now making.

But of course that sound paused as soon as he actually processed your words and his hand stopped moving the toy.

And you saw that bit of disbelief enter Doflamingo’s eyes. But soon enough, so embarrassingly soon enough, also the excitement which replaced it.

“You’ve never let anyone…no. Oh. Oh, fuck, woman.” And his grin was back. Ear to ear in fact as you watched the full realization spread through his twisted mind. And yet he still looked to you as if he had to assure himself more than once that this was possibly real. “You’re telling the truth…aren’t you? Oh, goddamn.”

This was evidently amazing news for him once he did finally accept it.

“So Kuzan beat me to the front…and yet no one has ever claimed the back?” He reiterated. “How careless…cruel even. Lover, it’s the whole body or nothing. Why would anyone only want part of you?”

You just hadn’t been ready for that back then of course. And it never came back up. Neither Kuzan or Smoker had had any interest in pushing you out of your comfort zone. They took whatever you were willing to give and that was the end of it.

While Doflamingo took everything that you had. Not just what you would give him.

And he’d clearly been eager before, but now this was his absolute mission. He was ecstatic. “Alright. Time for the next size up then…” He somewhat purred, discarding the used toy before briefly leaving the bed to grab and lube another one.

Again you did feel that anxiety of course, seeing the new dildo’s even larger girth as he returned and lowered it to your hole just like the previous one.

“No, don’t tense. You were doing so good before. Let it in.” He instructed, even as he started to push the toy past the muscles of that lower entrance regardless.

And you did make a sound of fresh discomfort, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Well you’re doing it to yourself. Fucking relax. Save all that squeezing for me, woman.”

“I…can’t.” You gasped as soon as he began thrusting this toy as well. The hole stretching around it even further, and that ever increasing inward pressure feeling so wholly bizarre.

“You can.” He said so decisively though, but his thumb found your clit for that additional assurance as he began rubbing it in tandem with the thrusts of the toy.

And the quiet moan that escaped you then only had him looking that more self-assured. “You see? It’s all connected. Your body knows what it wants. You want to be filled to the brim in every way, don’t you? And nobody does it better than me.”

His arrogance was endless. And yet, even as helpless as you felt beneath him, you knew it could be so much worse. But the more he talked, the more you feared it soon would be. 

His restraint was fading as his anticipation grew.

This was evident in the way his tongue was curling upward as it slid from his mouth then. That darker glint forming in his eyes as he watched you further stretching around the toy. 

He watched as he began to fuck you harder and harder with it.

He was going to take you soon regardless. But if he fully lost his composure, you knew he would drop all this pretense in an instant. He would savage you whenever his lust overcame him.

For this reason, you tried to suppress more of those moans that did actually want to come from you. Especially as he still worked your swollen clit alongside all that foreign pressure.

But he saw the arousal in your face. He knew.

“I think you’re as ready as you’re going to be…aren’t you, my queen?” And his voice was so low then. He let go of your clit to begin stroking himself now. He was smiling, tongue almost nervous in the way he licked his own lips.

And the fear was still rising within you. Even with the drugs numbing effect as you felt the briefest relief from that toy being removed. Your stupid body thinking it had survived. As if there would be any real time to recover as he had the lube bottle already in his hand again. 

He anointed that clear liquid over his flushed cock, from tip to base. He’d been hard for so long by now. His massive erection that was still so much larger than any toy he’d yet used. It now throbbed only for you.

“Remember what I confessed to you, my queen.” And he was starting to growl as he angled himself against your little hole. “This is my love for you…this is what love is.” 

And strings had jerked your hands up above your head just before that penetration. They were was so tight against your skin, your wrists stinging as even more followed. The glimmering wires around your legs as well to hold them permanently open. 

He would take no chances of you fighting back this time. Even with the foreplay, even with the painkillers, and even with the toys to help prime you…he must still know how very much this was going to hurt you.

But his needs would always stand above your own.

So he did it. He did it even as his hand covered your mouth and your resulting scream from penetration became muffled against his skin as he forced himself all the way inside.

Your hips were flush together this time. Farther than your cunt could have ever taken him. No cervix in his way, nothing in his way at all as his own immediate moan bled into what was left of your scream.

“Goddamn…oh, woman. Do you understand…this is…it’s heaven.” He shuddered as you tightened further around him, uneven breaths heaving through his chest as his then half lidded eyes met yours. 

There were tears in your eyes again, his hand still so tight over your mouth. His fingertips pressing sharply into the sides of your face.

“Don’t do that…” His words were still coming in moans as he began to thrust right through that stinging you recognized as your body already tearing. “Don’t cry…” He was panting. 

“I love you…I do.” He breathed. His hips were just moving harder and harder. “I know it…because only love hurts us this way. Doesn’t it?”

And you tried to close your eyes, trying to catch your breath when you couldn’t get enough air through your nose alone.

But as soon as you’d done that his voice changed so quickly again.

“Look at me!” He snapped

And as he kept thrusting over and over, those first beads of sweat were starting on his tan skin while you did as he commanded.

When your frightened eyes met his stare though, he only bared his teeth as well, soaking in your attention. It was a smile and yet it wasn’t. You didn’t even know what that expression was. “Will you…” He stammered as his hips pounded you relentlessly. “Will you ever…” He tried again and the words were lost between his own desperate gasps. 

And he bit his own bottom lip suddenly before those unfinished words could come again. As if in pure frustration for not being able to articulate what he wanted. As if punishing his own mouth to your further shock. Blood began to run down from that self inflicted wound. It dripped from his chin as he began to laugh uncontrollably.

The sound of Doflamingo’s laughter echoed in the large bed chamber, alongside those wet, vulgar sounds of violent sex.

And when the laugh did finally fade again, you felt those drops of blood now falling from his broken lip onto you as he leaned down further.

He was looming over you then. His broad chest fully sheened with sweat. And his cock still splitting you inside as he licked the fresh blood from his lips.

He tried again to speak. And this time he succeeded.

“Tell me, woman…tell me you’ll love me back someday. It doesn’t matter if it’s true…I haven’t heard it since I was a child. I just want to remember what it sounds like…I want to hear it.”

And his hand slipped off of your mouth then, loosely grasping your throat instead. His bloody smile waiting, leering.

“Doffy…” You gasped, trying to reclaim some of your breath. The pressure still unbelievable within you, even with the drug’s strong effects.

He was so incredibly broken. And he was breaking you too. Like nothing you had ever seen before. You didn’t know how to escape this cycle, even as you still cried.

“Let me hold you first…” You begged, your arms fully numb above your head in those strings by now. “Please…”

And you saw his hesitation. Even in the throws of lust and need. “…you’ll strike me.” He said so immediately.

“I won’t.” You whimpered. You couldn’t take this any longer. 

And even in his current wildness, he looked stressed at the idea. His eyes never left you, his thrusting did begin to slow. 

Yet, something tilted the scale eventually. Likely only his own desire to be touched by you in turn as he abruptly moved his fingers. Your arms and legs hit limp against the bed as the strings finally released.

“Thank you…” You could even breathe better then, without your arms strung so tightly above your head.

And your word was something you did always do your best to keep. Even as you saw the concern still in his eyes as you moved your arms again.

He had tensed. His haki at the ready this time no doubt. 

But of course you didn’t trick him. The only habitual manipulator here was the man above you as your palms cupped either side of his lean face instead.

He was still beautiful, even when he was hurting you. With that new fear in his eyes, that blood still seeping from his mouth. He didn’t know at all what you were going to say to him.

And it didn’t matter. Even if heaven and hell would have come together to laugh at you now. You still wanted him to hear the truth. Because didn’t everyone deserve to, if even once?

And you knew it was true. It must be. The only reason you weren’t doing everything in your power to fight back. The reason you kept letting him use you this way.

“I’m…I am already falling in love with you, Doflamingo.”

You saw him swallow. There was no smile, no laugh then. Just an utterly lost look on his face. 

But he turned his head further against one of your hands, confusion the next emotion on his face. While his blind eye closed and he kissed your hand so softly. “…will you tell me then…will you tell me when I’ve earned it all the way…”

“I will.” You heard yourself say. Those tear stains still on your face. The blood on his.

He shivered. And his hips began moving again. 

He did close both of his eyes now. Fully trusting you then. No longer afraid as he gave in to the feeling of your body alone. That pressure of being buried into you all the way to the hilt as he began rubbing your clit all over again to take you over that final edge with him.

It wasn’t much longer until you both had been moaning for that pleasure within the pain, and Doflamingo came so hard inside of you with a last shuddering gasp, almost a cry from him as his eyes remained tightly shut. His face still held within your protective hands.

He was panting, sweating and still shaking as his eyes gradually opened to meet your own tired ones below him again.

“You’re…you’re the one.” He told you so surely as he swallowed again. “The one I’ve been waiting for.”

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

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Thanks for reading!

[thedamselzelda]

The Game of Loyalty

Author Chat: Here is the next installment! I fought making this one any longer than it actually was, so I'll be releasing the next part soon. This is a fun little "filler" piece into the next part, which aims to explain more about reader and thats where the next fun begins. I'm hoping to put that part out within the next couple of days.

Featuring: Dazai Osamu

Summary: Osamu's shenanigans can serve as a welcome respite when weighed down with responsibilities as an executive; which is how you find yourself caught in a dangerous dance between your allegiance to the Port Mafia and your relationship with Osamu. On the other hand, you really wonder how his fellow detectives (and sometimes you) put up with him.

word count: 5.4k, fem!reader, pm!reader, sfw (mild cursing), reader is referred to as "Izanami", readers eyes are noted to be violet, slightly proofread

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You slide into the booth, settling to glare at the smirking man across from you. The café's ambient noise fades into the background as you focus on Osamu’s infuriatingly charming face.

"Of all places I could meet you, you quite literally want to do it under your boss's nose?" You huff, shifting to allow your coat some wiggle room. The leather upholstery creaks softly beneath you.

"He won't mind," Osamu waves his hand dismissively, then settles his chin once more upon his long, elegant fingers. His eyes sparkle with mischief. "It's not like we're discussing Port Mafia or Agency business."

An exasperated exhale leaves your lips, though you can't help but smile. "Perhaps. However, knowing you, you do want information."

A hum of a chuckle escapes his barely parted lips, "You know me so well, cara mia."

"But first," you kick your heel into Osamu's shin, causing him to groan in pain. The satisfying thud is muffled by the table between you.

"The fuck?!" He grabs to rub the spot underneath the table, wincing dramatically. "What was that for?"

"Higuchi? 'Lovely lady'?" A small devilish smile creeps across your face as you watch Osamu nurse the bruise. Your eyes narrow slightly, a mix of amusement and lingering irritation.

"It was for the bit, Bella. Jeez." He pouts, but there's a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

You simply hum in response as a waitress approaches your table. Her apron is slightly askew, and there's a hint of wariness in her expression as she recognizes Osamu.

"Dazai, I assume you have payment this time since you have a guest?" She gives a polite smile, her eyes closed to forcefully remain calm. The strain in her voice is barely noticeable.

"Uhhhh…" His childlike eyes drift to yours, feigning innocence.

With an eyeroll, you pull out your wallet, handing over Mori's black card. The glossy surface catches the light. "I'll take a cappuccino, please. Dazai's bill can be paid for with this."

She hums contentedly in response, gleefully taking the card. In a playful tone, she comments to you, "I hope you aren't falling for his charms and proposals of a double suicide."

She turns and rushes off as your eyes widen at Osamu. You scoff with a smile, "So, you've been busy."

You attempt to kick him once more, but he swiftly moves his leg out of your line of target. Instead, you knock your heel into the booth, planting it firmly between his legs. He gives a slight gulp and a sheepish smile back up to you, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

However, he recovers quickly, giving a sly smile, "I could say the same about you." He taps against his neck slightly.

You huff and fan the collar of your jacket up, feeling the heat rise to your face. "Enjoying your handiwork?"

He reaches to grasp your hand, his touch gentle yet electrifying. He kisses the back of it lightly, his lips warm against your skin. "Of course."

The waitress returns, delicately placing the steaming cappuccino before you along with the black card. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air. She gives a suspicious side-eye to Osamu as she walks away, one which he doesn't catch as he keeps his eyes closed, kissing each of your fingers and palm with gentle care. A soft smile creeps upon your lips as you watch him, warmth blooming in your chest.

You note how he's definitely more comfortable with himself now. He would never act like this in the mafia; it was only within the comforts of your penthouse that he would ever display such affection. It's more comforting now, knowing he feels relaxed enough to give you small acts of PDA like this in public.

His hazel eyes fan open, catching the light, and he cocks his head slightly. "Something wrong, Bella?"

You blink a few times, realizing you must have been staring. Shaking your head, you grab the cup with your free hand, savoring its warmth. "Nothing, 'Samu."

He gently sets your hand back down upon the table but continues absentmindedly tracing his finger along the top of your hand, sending pleasant shivers up your arm. He leans against his palm, parting his lips. "So, trading secrets?"

You let out a short laugh, the sound tinkling in the air. "As if I would do that here. And you know I'm kept out of the loop on a lot of things. I really only manage the Starlight, and…"

His eyebrow raises in intrigue, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And?"

You open your mouth to respond, but your eyes immediately widen at hearing a voice behind you.

"Dazai! Seriously, we've been looking all over the office for you!"

You immediately pull your hand away, your foot dropping to the ground with a soft thud. Your heart rate quickens as you realize the moment of privacy has shattered.

"Oh…" The ginger and the girl who was with him from a few days ago come from behind you, giving you a curious look. "You have someone with you."

You give an uncomfortable smile, looking over to Osamu in question. What now? He only gives a toothy grin in response, his leg resting reassuringly against yours.

"Oh wait!" The raven-haired girl promptly slides into the seat next to you, grasping your hands with unbridled excitement. Her touch is warm, but you instinctively begin to lean away, trying to politely remove yourself from her grip. "You must be the girl that Dazai won't stop talking about!"

You glance down nervously at your intertwined hands, then back to Osamu. A forced polite smile plays on your lips as you grit your teeth, "So, you've been talking about me?"

Osamu reaches back to rub the nape of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "It's just too hard not to talk about you, tesoro mio.”

Your gaze shifts to the girl and the boy standing above her. The young man's brow furrows as he studies you intently, as if trying to place where he's seen you before. A flicker of possible recognition passes through his eyes, and you feel a twinge of unease. Before you can dwell on it, your attention snaps back to the enthusiastic girl as she speaks up once more.

"It's only been a few days, and he's already staring longingly at the clock, or even tells Kunikida that he's heading out early just to see you! It's honestly soooo romantic!" Her voice rises in pitch with each word. She suddenly releases your hands and flings herself onto the waist of the boy stood beside her. "Jun'ichirō, why can't you act more like that?!"

You begin to scoot back towards the wall, the cool surface a welcome respite against your heated skin. Your leg presses further against Osamu's under the table, seeking silent comfort. He gives you a teasing look, eyes dancing with amusement, and you shoot him a cold one in return. Surely with that look, he knew something like this would happen. You make a mental note to have words with him later about his penchant for creating chaos.

"Naomi, please!" The boy named Jun'ichirō hisses, a deep blush creeping up his neck and onto his face. He awkwardly tries to pry her off, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

You find yourself half-tempted to crawl under the table and over to Osamu just to escape the scene unfolding before you. But before you can act on this admittedly ridiculous impulse, another voice chimes in, causing you to freeze once more.

"D-Dazai!?"

Whipping your head around, you see Osamu's eyes widen slightly at the newest addition to the commotion. Standing confused in the doorway is the boy Osamu had recently taken under his wing, just as he had done with Akutagawa years ago. The parallel doesn't escape you, and you wonder briefly about the patterns in Osamu's life.

"Atsushi! This is Dazai's girlfriend!" Naomi calls out, her voice ringing through the café.

Your hands instinctively fly to your face, trying to hide the increasing heat that rises to your cheeks. This is not at all what you expected when Osamu had invited you for an early afternoon coffee. Then again, this was Osamu; you should honestly expect anything with him. You peek through your fingers, watching the scene unfold with a mix of mortification and morbid fascination.

"S-she... she..." Atsushi stammers, unable to spit out the words he wants to say. You know he recognizes you, likely by your distinctive eyes alone. Memories flash through your mind - you stepping in just before his transformation into the white tiger, shouting at Akutagawa for nearly killing the were-tiger. Then, Osamu intervening, clearing up the mess as only he could.

"Atsushi, you can come sit. She won't bite." Osamu waves the boy over, his voice calm and reassuring, trying to quell the boy's obvious fear. Atsushi hesitates for a moment before rushing over, leaning down to whisper urgently into Osamu's ear. Osamu simply nods, responding with a short, "Yes, I know. Sit."

Osamu surveyed the three now seated at the table with you. With a flourish, he extended his arm to introduce you, deliberately omitting your specific title and last name. His eyes gleamed with mischief, knowing full well how those details would resonate with his colleagues.

Atsushi perched next to Osamu, stiff as a board, his eyes darting between you and his mentor. You offered him a small, reassuring smile, raising your eyebrows playfully. Despite your better judgment, you couldn't resist teasing him. You fake-lunged towards him, snapping your teeth playfully. Atsushi yelped, nearly toppling backwards in his haste to retreat.

Osamu's rich laughter filled the air as he tapped his leg against yours under the table. You covered your mouth, stifling your own giggles. "I'm sorry, Atsushi. You're just so on edge. I promise I mean no harm," you managed between chuckles.

Naomi and Jun'ichirō exchanged bewildered glances, clearly struggling to make sense of the bizarre scene before them. Atsushi shot them a meaningful look, silently pleading with them not to pry further. Osamu sighed, recognizing the weight of unspoken truths hanging in the air.

Just as the tension began to ease, a booming voice shattered the relative calm of the café. "Dazai!"

You rolled your eyes dramatically, lightly knocking your head against the wall behind you. So much for a peaceful afternoon.

"You good-for-nothing bandage squanderer! You still have work to do, and here you sit with—" The newcomer's tirade cut off abruptly as recognition dawned. "With the Port Mafia's Izanami?!"

The reaction was instantaneous. Atsushi exhaled sharply, his forehead meeting the table with a dull thud. Naomi scrambled from her seat, further latching onto Jun'ichirō like a lifeline. Your eyes darted to Osamu, marveling at his calm composure.

"I can't have a coffee with my girlfriend, Kunikida?" Osamu's voice dripped with feigned innocence, his eyes wide and naïve.

"Are you joking right now, Dazai? Because this isn't funny." Kunikida's knuckles whitened around the book he clutched. Your gaze lingered on the tome, recalling the dossiers you'd studied on ADA members. The irony wasn't lost on you.

As the situation teetered on the edge of absurdity, you'd had enough. This impromptu meeting was rapidly devolving into a farce worthy of a sitcom.

"Osamu," you hissed, irritation coloring your tone. "Clean up your mess. You knew exactly what you were doing by inviting me here."

You began to slide out of the booth, intent on making a graceful exit, but Osamu's hand closed gently around your wrist. His touch was warm, grounding.

"She's not here as a member of the Port Mafia," he stated, his voice steady and sincere. "She's here as a normal woman, as my girlfriend. You've all heard me talk about her. Apparently, you've even noticed changes in my behavior." He shot a pointed glance at Naomi before continuing. "She's a good person where it counts. Don't judge her by her track record. We all have one. So, don't start now."

You give Osamu an appreciative pout, a mix of gratitude and exasperation in your eyes. He responds with a small, knowing smile that makes your heart skip a beat despite the chaos surrounding you.

"As long as I'm touching her, she won't hurt any of you," Osamu continues, his voice calm and reassuring. His thumb traces soothing circles on your wrist. "And she even tried to move away from you, Naomi, when you suddenly grabbed her. She doesn't want to harm anyone here."

You scan the group, taking in their varied reactions. Atsushi remains motionless, his forehead still pressed against the table as if he's trying to disappear into it. Naomi and Jun'ichirō exchange uncertain glances before their postures visibly relax. Even Kunikida's rigid stance softens slightly. It's clear that despite their initial shock, they all trust Osamu's judgment to some degree.

Kunikida clears his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a practiced motion. "I'm not going to lecture you, Dazai," he says, his tone a mixture of resignation and frustration. "So, I'll only say this once: Don't mix your personal and work life. You are not to give her any information about the Agency." His eyes narrow as he fixes Osamu with a stern look. "And you still have work to do, so get your ass moving."

With that, Kunikida turns on his heel and strides towards the exit. The café door slams behind him, the bell above it jingling discordantly in the sudden silence.

You feel the weight of everyone's eyes on you. The tension in the air is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Unable to bear the awkwardness any longer, you decide to break the ice.

"In my defense," you pipe up, your voice a blend of sheepishness and dry humor, "I was not expecting all of you to come in."

Laughing, you push your shoulder against Osamu's arm, the warmth of his body seeping through your clothes. "You did me so dirty with that!" Your voice is a mix of exasperation and amusement.

His laugh rings out with yours, a rich, melodious sound that echoes off the buildings lining the vivacious street. The neon signs and streetlamps cast a kaleidoscope of colors across his face, highlighting the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I certainly had a good time," he replies, his tone unapologetically playful.

Your hand is snugly laced with his inside his pocket, the warmth a stark contrast to the cool evening air. You give a gentle squeeze, feeling the calluses on his palm. "Well, I guess it was best to get that out of the way now. And, I can say I was impressed with how you stood up for me." Your voice softens, a hint of vulnerability seeping through.

You look up to see his lips curved into a soft smile, a rare expression of genuine affection. He places a kiss against your temple, his lips lingering for a moment before he continues walking. The gesture sends a shiver down your spine. "They don't know you the way I do," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. "They only know you for the long list of crimes you've committed. But they like me, so, they should like you."

You arch your eyebrow at him, a skeptical look crossing your face. "I'm starting to think they merely just tolerate you. Also, it seems like they don't even know about your history." Your tone is teasing, but there's an undercurrent of curiosity about his past.

He shrugs, the movement jostling your joined hands slightly. "All the more reason to like you!" His cheerful response is classic Osamu, deflecting with humor.

You puff out an exhausted sigh, a cloud of vapor forming in the cool air. What would you do with him? The thought is fond, despite your exasperation.

He stops the two of you, his body angling towards yours as he motions ahead. The street stretches before you, alive with people and light. "So, she's going to be waiting for me on this strip?"

You nod, your eyes scanning the highly populated street. A mix of anticipation and worry churns in your stomach. While there weren't many things you were informed about, you had planted a bug within Mori's office a while back in an attempt to keep you within the loop. The information you'd gleaned weighs heavily on your mind - an attempt to capture Osamu, to remove him as a barrier to kidnap Atsushi. At present, Osamu was also trying to be abducted by the Port Mafia to seek out information regarding Atsushi's bounty. It just all happened to work out perfectly, you just couldn't be the one to bring him in. The complexity of the situation, with its layers of deceit and danger, makes your head spin.

"You know you might be executed..." you mention hesitantly, unable to keep the concern from your voice. Your grip on his hand tightens involuntarily. "Though, I doubt Mori would be the one to command that order."

"Nah, I might get roughed up a little. Nothing I can't handle though." His cavalier attitude both frustrates and endears you. He removes your hands from his pocket, the cool air rushing in to replace the warmth. With a fluid motion, he spins you around and into a dip, your body arching gracefully in his arms. You laugh a little, the sound breathy and surprised, as you rest your hand upon his chest. You can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, beneath your palm. "Besides, I've got you there to keep an eye on me."

He gives you a wink, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper, before leaning down to kiss you. You kiss back without hesitation, tangling your fingers within his soft hair to deepen the kiss. The world around you fades away - the bustling street, the curious onlookers, the looming danger - all of it disappears in the heat of the moment. Who are they to judge your stolen moment of happiness amidst the chaos of your lives?

Osamu stands the two of you back up straight, his movements fluid and graceful. He seems reluctant to break his lips from yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. His nose softly brushes against yours, a tender gesture that makes your heart flutter. "Come and see me when you can?" His voice is low, a mix of playfulness and genuine longing that sends a shiver down your spine.

"Of course, amore mio," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. The Italian term of endearment rolls off your tongue, a secret language between the two of you. He brings your hand back up, his lips ghosting over your knuckles in a soft kiss. The gesture is both chivalrous and intimate, a reminder of the complex dance of danger and affection that defines your relationship.

As he begins to walk away, he moves backwards, his eyes never leaving yours. Your hand slips from his, the loss of contact leaving you feeling strangely bereft. You stand there for a moment, frozen in place as he blows you a kiss before finally turning away. You roll your eyes at his theatrics but can't suppress the smile that tugs at your lips as you playfully shoo him away.

The buzz of your phone breaks your trance, the harsh vibration a stark contrast to the tender moment you just shared. You reach down and grab it from your jacket pocket.

Hats & Sass: where tf r u?

A laugh escapes you as you begin to type, your fingers flying over the keys.

Well, welcome back home, Chūyaaa. Where do you want me to be?

You glance up from your phone, your eyes scanning the street. Osamu is nowhere in sight. A mix of worry and resignation settles in your stomach - he must've gotten caught already. You shrug, trying to shake off the concern as you look back down at your phone.

Hats & Sass: lookin for your ass at hq just to find out you aren't fkn here  Hats & Sass: Heard the boss is big mad at u rn

You scoff, a wry smile twisting your lips.

When is he not?

You start walking down the lively lit street, the click of your heels on the pavement drowned out by the bustle around you. Men's comments float your way as you pass, their eyes following your every move. You're in Port Mafia territory, so relatively everyone on the street knows you and who you are. Still, the comments irk you, a reminder of the constant scrutiny you're under.

Hats & Sass: wine n dine since im back? rumors abt u goin round

You squint your eyes, pondering how to break the news to him about Osamu. Then, a better idea strikes you.

Wine, yes. Be @ mine in ten

You slide your phone closed with a satisfying click, looking up at the five tall towers looming in the distance. They stand as silent sentinels, a constant reminder of the power and reach of the Port Mafia. As your eyes trace their imposing silhouettes, you find yourself hoping that even with Osamu's wit and ability, no one would really attempt to do him much harm while under the roof you called home. Surely your fellow members and subordinates knew better, right? The thought is more wishful thinking than genuine belief, but you cling to it, nonetheless.

You awake with a splitting headache, your phone's shrill ring piercing through your skull like a hot knife. Groaning, you sit up in the king-size bed, the silk sheets sliding off your body as you rub your temples in a futile attempt to ease the pain. Your eyes, heavy with sleep and the remnants of last night's indulgence, scan the room before landing on Chūya.

He's sprawled out on the far side of the bed, a veritable mountain of pillows forming a makeshift barrier between you. It's a familiar sight, a testament to your unique friendship. Without hesitation, you grab one of the many pillows and chuck it at his sleeping form with surprising accuracy given your hungover state.

"You were supposed to wake me up, dumbass!" Your own shout sends a fresh wave of pain through your head, causing you to wince and grab it. Chūya merely groans in response, turning away from you as you grumble. "Did we drink something other than wine? Jesus."

As if on cue, your phone begins ringing again, the sound grating on your frayed nerves. You snatch it up, answering with an irritated, "What?!"

"Izanami... that is the least formal way you could answer a call from me." The cool, measured voice on the other end sends a chill down your spine.

You glance at the caller ID, your stomach dropping as realization hits. Fuck. You place the phone back to your ear, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. "Sorry, boss. I, ummm... long night."

"I know with Chūya's return you two were bound to get up to no good, however, I thought you would at least keep some semblance of knowledge of our meeting that started... twenty minutes ago." Mori's tone is bland and unamused, each word another nail in the coffin of your professional reputation.

"I'll be up in ten." You don't wait for his reply, throwing the covers off and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. The sudden movement makes your head swim, but you push through it.

As you stand, you realize you're still in the same clothes from yesterday, the ones you wore when you left Osamu. The thought of him sends a jolt of worry through you. God, Osamu! You begin to panic, hoping he's alright. Surely he is... right?

Your gaze drifts back to Chūya, who's now grumbling to himself under the pillow you threw. You hadn't told him about Osamu being held yet, but you had filled him in on everything else he'd missed. Perhaps that was why the two of you had switched to something stronger than wine.

Shaking your head in exasperation (and immediately regretting the motion), you force yourself to focus. This meeting has been scheduled since you submitted your report on Akutagawa. You're hoping it'll be short and simple so you can get to Osamu quicker.

With practiced efficiency, you throw on your white pantsuit, donning a black button-up shirt and topping it with Osamu's scarf. The familiar scent of him clings to the fabric, providing a small measure of comfort. You quickly brush your hair and teeth, trying to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

As you move, your mind races. Why couldn't Mori just reschedule? What if he knows you helped Osamu? What if he's aware you're helping Osamu get the information he's looking for? You pause at the doors leading out into your living room, your hand hovering over the doorknob as doubt and fear threaten to overwhelm you.

"What the hell are ya doing?" Chūya's groggy voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts. "You're bein' loud as fuck, and I'm just tryin' ta sleep!"

His complaint, so normal and mundane amidst the chaos of your thoughts, almost makes you laugh. It's a reminder that despite everything - the dangers, the secrets, the complex web of loyalties - some things remain constant. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. 

You anxiously grab the scarf between your fingers, rubbing the soft silk as you turn your head back to Chūya. The delicate fabric, feeling the coolness against your clammy skin. "I have a meeting with Mori, and I'm already late. Stay however long you want." Your voice wavers slightly, betraying your unease.

You push open the door, expeditiously walking to the elevator. The sound of your footsteps echoes in the empty hallway, each click of your heels against the polished floor amplifying your growing tension.

While you stayed just floors under Mori's office, the ride seemed longer than usual. The elevator's soft hum does little to calm your nerves as you watch the floor numbers slowly climb. You weren't typically anxious like this when going to see Mori, placing a false façade of nonchalance each time you stepped into the threshold of the office. But today, something feels different, an inexplicable heaviness settling in your chest.

He had always kept you under a close watch, ever since you came into his keep. Housing you within the floors of HQ was his indiscreet way of reminding you of who you belonged to. The thought sends a shiver down your spine as you recall the day he assigned you your quarters – his smile benevolent, yet his eyes cold and calculating. The proximity to his office, a constant reminder of his omnipresence in your life, weighs on you more heavily than usual today.

As the elevator approaches Mori's floor, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture and schooling your features into a mask of cool indifference. The doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the opulent corridor leading to his office. You step out, your heartbeat quickening with each step towards the imposing double doors that separate you from whatever Mori has in store.

Two men stood guard at the end of the corridor, bowing their heads slightly as you neared the double doors. Without knocking, you pushed one open to find Mori sitting in his chair, staring at the skyline of Yokohama.

"Never," Mori began without even turning to look at you. "Never in all the years you have been a member of the Port Mafia have you ever been less punctual. I worry for you, my dear."

You simply rolled your eyes, approaching him with caution as the two men entered and closed the doors behind you. Dismissing Mori’s observation, you got straight to the point of his requested meeting. "Was there something wrong with my report? You’ve never called upon me about my flawless reports before."

You settled your hand upon your waist, tossing your hair behind your shoulder. Mori reached for two sets of files next to him, beginning to sift through them.

"According to your report, you arrived a fair bit before Dazai. Additionally, he arrived from a completely different direction than you did. Akutagawa’s report, in contrast, states that you dropped in just mere moments before Dazai, and from the very same rooftop."

He placed the files back down before lacing his fingers together, his gaze still averted from yours. "So, tell me, Izanami. What did you and Dazai talk about upon that roof?"

Your hand slipped from your hip and glided behind you to grasp your other hand tightly. "Does it matter?"

Mori turned his head toward you, a small, cold smile upon his face. "I suppose it does not. However…"

You felt his eyes pierce into you, as if analyzing your appearance. The fucking hickey… shit.

"However, as your boss, and even as your potential successor, I must strongly encourage you against something as frivolous as your relationship with that boy."

"Are you saying that because you’re afraid I’ll defect as he did? Or rather, is it because it means you have less control over me?"

Mori looked back through the windows before slowly rising to his feet. He placed his hands into his pockets and began to slowly walk towards you until he stood directly before you. You stood your ground, having been taught by him that even the smallest amount of weakness was something to exploit. He would never have that power over you; you would never let him.

"I know what happened with Oda. I know how we now possess the business permit. For that, Mori, I will give you the most painful death you could even fathom. However, for the time being, you have my full devotion. Not as my predecessor, not as my owner, but as my boss of my home, my life."

Mori raised an eyebrow, his eyes not showing an ounce of shock or dismay at your words. "I raised you well."

You scoffed, remaining as calm as possible. “You did not raise me; you deserve no credit for the person who stands before you. Not even my own father wanted to raise me. The only thing you did was make me into a weapon.” You closed your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows. "My hatred for you began the moment Osamu was brought to witness your succession. You forced him and me together because of our indifference to life, then cast me out to Italy to become the person who stands before you. And look what it’s gotten you: a girl who wants you dead and a boy who couldn’t care less about your existence, and yet, we found our way back to each other."

You opened your eyes to an odd sight; Mori stood with a grin, one that resembled what could be described as a father proud of his daughter. Your eyes shot away, a heat creeping upon your face. "Stop looking at me like that."

Mori simply gave a hearty laugh in response. "Your spirit is truly admirable, Izanami. Your dedication, even your defiance, makes you invaluable. But never forget where your loyalty should lie. With the Port Mafia, you have power, you have respect, and you have a future. Don’t let sentiments cloud your judgment."

You clenched your jaw, refusing to let his words shake you. "I am loyal to the Port Mafia, but I am not your puppet. My actions, my choices, they’re mine. Remember that."

Mori’s laughter faded into a contemplative silence as he regarded you with a mixture of amusement and respect. "Very well. Just ensure that your loyalty remains... unwavering."

You gave a curt nod, hiding the surprise underneath your cold stare. You hadn’t expected Mori to be so dismissive.

"You may go, Izanami. I assume you’re anxious to go check on Dazai anyways." He returned to his seat, a smirk upon his face.

You bowed, refraining from say anything further. You turn on your heels, looking at the two men who stood before the doors. You gave them a subtle look, and they parted like the red sea, allowing your exit.

Once the doors of Mori’s office closed, you sigh out, grasping the scarf to sooth yourself once more. You fish your phone from your jacket pocket, beginning the next stage of Osamu’s plan.

Wanna get your revenge on Dazai? Meet me in five.

previous part ~ next part | DBH masterlist | BSD Masterverse

Author Chat: this section kinda got away from me in all honesty. I had full intention to go straight into what will be the next part, but this piece came out instead. I really had a lot of fun writing the first section of this installment, so I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

No songs inspired this part, but just wait for the next installment :)

If I happened to forget any tags, please let me know! if you enjoyed it, give this a little like and repost! Until next time~ <3 DamselZelda

[nayziiz]

Reckless | CS55

Summary: Via finds herself caught up in office politics and encounters Carlos Sainz Jr., the intimidating son of her boss. Despite her initial reluctance, she is drawn into a web of intrigue surrounding the Sainz family and their business empire. As tensions rise and secrets unravel, Via and Carlos grapple with professional challenges, personal relationships, and the allure of forbidden romance. Via must navigate the complexities of power, ambition, and desire, ultimately confronting difficult truths about those around her in a world where appearances can be deceiving and loyalties tested.

Warning: Violence, blood, alcohol, smut, fluff, guns

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x OC (Via Driscoll) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

Chapter 2

As the clock ticked down to the quarterly business meeting, Julia and Eleanor were in a frenzy of activity, hurrying to ensure that everything was in order before the impending deadline. With less than thirty minutes remaining, they dashed about the executive suite, orchestrating last-minute preparations and double-checking every detail to guarantee a seamless presentation. The air crackled with tension as they worked tirelessly to meet the looming deadline, their determination unwavering in the face of the impending challenge.

“What time are the drinks arriving?” Eleanor inquired, her voice tinged with urgency as she glanced over at Via, who was diligently setting out notepads and pens in the boardroom.

“They'll be here shortly before 11.” Via replied, her tone calm and assured despite the flurry of activity around her.

She focused intently on her task, ensuring that every detail was attended to in preparation for the upcoming meeting. With time ticking away, Via remained steadfast in her commitment to ensuring the meeting's success, her professionalism unwavering in the face of the mounting pressure.

As Via and Eleanor conducted a final sweep of the boardroom to ensure that everything was in place for the quarterly meeting, Via couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled over her. She couldn't understand why Mr. Sainz had specifically requested her presence, as she had never been included in his meetings before. Via's attention was drawn to an extra chair positioned to the left of Mr. Sainz's seat. Instantly, her curiosity was piqued. Being privy to the guest list for the meeting, Via realised that the additional chair was not accounted for. 

A sense of apprehension washed over her as she exchanged a meaningful glance with Eleanor, silently acknowledging the anomaly. With a furrowed brow, Via couldn't help but wonder what unexpected developments lay ahead as she took her position in the corner of the room, the mystery of the extra chair lingering in the back of her mind.

“Who else are we expecting?” Via inquired, her curiosity getting the better of her as she turned to Eleanor, seeking clarification.

“Mr. Sainz Jr. will be joining the meeting this morning.” Eleanor hesitantly answered, her tone betraying a hint of uncertainty.

“Is he going to be working for the company?” Via pressed further, her brow furrowing in concern as she contemplated the potential implications of Carlos Sainz Jr.'s presence in the meeting.

“What’s with all the questions, Via?” Eleanor countered, her frustration evident in her tone as she glanced at Via, clearly impatient with her inquiries.

“I’m just curious. Julia said he never used to be involved in the business.” Via responded, her voice tinged with a sense of intrigue as she sought to understand the sudden shift in Carlos Sainz Jr.'s role within the company.

“She’s right, but he’s going to be more involved moving forward. His father is looking forward to teaching him about the business, so the rest of us don’t have much of a choice than to tolerate him.” Eleanor explained, her impatience fading slightly as she offered Via some insight into the situation.

As if on cue, Mr. Sainz Sr. entered the boardroom, his presence commanding attention as he strode purposefully into the room. Via watched as Eleanor, who was at his side almost instantly, exchanged a subtle glance with him, their silent communication speaking volumes about their close rapport.

Via couldn't help but marvel at the synchronicity between Mr. Sainz and Eleanor. In the few times she had been around them together, she had observed how they moved in perfect harmony, as if they were two halves of the same whole. Mr. Sainz always ensured Via was comfortable, whether it was by offering her a seat or ensuring she had refreshments. Their connection was palpable, a testament to the deep bond forged over fifteen years of working closely together.

As Mr. Sainz took his place at the head of the table, Via couldn't shake the sense of awe at witnessing their seamless partnership, their ability to anticipate each other's actions and thoughts a testament to the strength of their relationship. It was a dynamic that commanded respect and admiration, leaving Via with a newfound appreciation for the power of true collaboration.

As Mr. Sainz whispered something to Eleanor, Via couldn't help but notice the sense of urgency in their exchange. Moments later, Eleanor swiftly joined Via in the corner of the room, her expression serious as she relayed the message to Via. 

“Listen to me carefully, Via.” Eleanor stated firmly, her tone leaving no room for misunderstanding as she grabbed Via’s attention. “Everything said during this meeting is strictly confidential. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Via replied, her voice steady as she nodded in acknowledgment.

“Mr. Sainz is going to be testing your loyalty, and if any information leaves this building today, you will be the prime suspect.” Eleanor continued, her words carrying a weight of seriousness that made Via's heart skip a beat.

“Understood, Ms. Pope.” Via agreed, her determination evident as she braced herself for the challenge ahead.

“You do not speak unless spoken to. You stay in this corner with me unless you’re pouring the guests a drink.” Eleanor added with her instructions leaving no room for deviation as she outlined Via’s role in the meeting.

Via's heart raced with anticipation as she absorbed Eleanor's words, her mind racing with possibilities about what Mr. Sainz's whispered instructions could mean for the meeting.

Their conversation was interrupted as the refreshments for the meeting arrived, drawing their attention back to the task at hand. Via and Eleanor quickly made their way to the table, their movements synchronised as they busied themselves with arranging the refreshments for the attendees.

Across the room, Mr. Sainz watched the two women intently, his gaze penetrating as he observed their interactions. Via couldn't help but feel a sense of scrutiny under his watchful eye, a reminder of the gravity of the situation unfolding before them.

Via shifted her focus to the arrival of the first guests as they entered the boardroom and took their seats. With a warm smile, she and Eleanor greeted the executives, their demeanour poised and professional as they welcomed each attendee.

Grabbing a bottle of champagne, Via moved gracefully among the guests, pouring the sparkling liquid into their flutes with practised precision. Soon, the boardroom was filled with the sound of chatter and the clinking of glasses as everyone settled into their seats, anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

As the meeting commenced, Via couldn't help but notice the empty chair reserved for Junior, its significance not lost on her. With Eleanor by her side, she observed Senior rise to his feet, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as she prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead.

"Good morning, everyone. I’m pleased to see that you all could make it. I know your schedules are quite full at the moment," Mr. Sainz greeted the attendees, his voice carrying a commanding presence that demanded everyone's attention.

Via couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as she listened to Mr. Sainz speak. His authoritative tone and confident demeanour made it clear that he was a force to be reckoned with. Despite her intuition and observational skills, Via found it difficult to read him, his demeanour shrouded in an air of mystery that left her feeling uncertain and apprehensive.

Via remained vigilant, keenly aware of the weight of Mr. Sainz's words and the implications they held for her future within the company. With each passing moment, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being tested, her loyalty and integrity hanging in the balance as she navigated the complexities of corporate intrigue and personal ambition.

“We have an exciting few weeks coming up. We have our annual charity gala happening in a few short weeks and, as far as I can tell, it’s coming together quite well.” Mr. Sainz announced, his gaze shifting down to his notes as he spoke.

Via listened intently, her attention fully focused on Mr. Sainz's words. The mention of the upcoming charity gala sparked a glimmer of excitement within her, despite the tension that hung in the air. She couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at being involved in such a prestigious event, even if her role was primarily behind the scenes.

As Mr. Sainz continued to outline the details of the gala, Via's mind raced with thoughts of the preparations that lay ahead. With each passing moment, she grew more determined to ensure the success of the event, her dedication to her work unwavering.

A brief knock at the door interrupted the meeting, capturing everyone's attention. Eleanor nudged Via, prompting her to answer the door. As Via opened it, she was met with the gaze of Junior, his pebble brown eyes locking with hers for a moment before he entered the boardroom and took his seat beside his father.

“Nice of you to join us, son.” Mr. Sainz remarked casually before continuing down his agenda. “Then later this week, Eleanor and I will be travelling to Spain to check in with our Barcelona branch.”

Via couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue at the mention of the Barcelona branch, her mind already racing with thoughts of the upcoming trip and the potential implications it held for the company.

“Navy blue suit, dotted navy tie.” Eleanor whispered to Via, her voice barely audible as she discreetly pointed out the man sitting next to Junior.

Via nodded in understanding, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took note of the man's attire. She understood the significance of Eleanor's instructions and was determined to carry them out with precision.

“Keep filling his glass. He's inclined to be more cooperative after a few drinks.” Eleanor added, her tone low and deliberate as she emphasised the importance of their strategy.

Via maintained her composure as she made her way down to where the man sat, her smile warm and professional as she caught his eye. As she poured the champagne into his glass, she felt a jolt of discomfort when the man's hand rested on the small of her back, his touch unwelcome and intrusive.

The action didn't go unnoticed by Junior, who shot Via a glance filled with icy disdain, clearly displeased by the man's inappropriate behaviour. In a silent display of solidarity, Junior nudged his champagne flute across the table for Via to pour into, a subtle gesture that did not escape her notice.

Grateful for Junior's intervention, Via poured the champagne into his glass, her nerves easing slightly as she glanced down at him. Despite his outward appearance of calm and collectedness, there was an underlying tension simmering beneath the surface, a silent promise of retribution for any further transgressions against her. 

“Thank you.” Junior murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible but loud enough for Via to hear.

With a small nod of appreciation, she resumed her position in the corner of the room, her focus sharpened as she continued to observe the proceedings with unwavering determination.

“And, as you have all seen, my son, Carlos Jr., will be working under me as he learns the business.” Mr. Sainz continued, his announcement drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

All eyes darted to Junior as Mr. Sainz spoke, and Junior responded with a confident smile, acknowledging the scrutiny with a sense of self-assurance. Despite the weight of expectations placed upon him, Junior remained composed, his demeanour poised and confident as he prepared to embark on his new role within the company.

Via couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue at the revelation, her thoughts swirling with questions about the implications of Junior's newfound position. With each passing moment, the dynamics within the room shifted, setting the stage for a new chapter in the company's journey, one in which Junior's presence would undoubtedly leave a lasting impact on the future direction of the business.

“Why, sir? Are you planning a sabbatical of some kind?” The man next to Junior asked, his interruption causing a ripple of curiosity to sweep through the room.

“I assure you, Henry, I will not be going anywhere.” Mr. Sainz stated firmly, his tone laced with dry amusement as he addressed the impertinent question. “He wishes to be more involved in his family’s business, and I am happy to mentor him.”

Via observed the exchange with keen interest, noting the subtle shift in Mr. Sainz's demeanour as he responded to the man's inquiry. Despite the interruption, Mr. Sainz remained composed and in control, his unwavering commitment to the company's success evident in his response. With each passing moment, Via's admiration for Mr. Sainz's leadership only grew, solidifying her determination to follow his example and excel in her own role within the organisation.

Eleanor's almost imperceptible eye roll did not escape Via's notice, a silent acknowledgment of the frustration simmering beneath the surface at the need for Mr. Sainz to justify his son's presence to his subordinates. Via couldn't help but sympathise with Eleanor's sentiment, understanding the delicate balance of power dynamics within the corporate hierarchy. The fact that Mr. Sainz felt compelled to address the question spoke volumes about the complexities of familial relationships in the context of business, highlighting the intricacies of navigating personal and professional boundaries.

“On a less joyful note, we are faced with a continuous issue that is yet to be resolved. This was the case at the last quarterly meeting too.” Mr. Sainz continued, his tone shifting to one of seriousness as he addressed the room.

“On several occasions, we have seen confidential business information be leaked to the media, which has resulted in an unstable stock exchange and a loss of profits across numerous departments. My question is, why has this not been resolved? Did I not ask you to find the leak and take the appropriate steps to resolve the problem?” Mr. Sainz's voice held a note of frustration as he demanded answers from his team.

Via felt a sense of unease settle over the room as Mr. Sainz addressed the issue head-on, his words underscoring the gravity of the situation. The implications of the leaks were far-reaching, with potentially dire consequences for the company's financial stability and reputation.

As Mr. Sainz's gaze swept across the room, Via couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her colleagues, knowing that the pressure to find a solution weighed heavily on each of them. With each passing moment, the urgency of the situation became increasingly apparent, leaving Via with a sense of determination to do whatever it took to help resolve the issue and restore stability to the company.

“Sir, it’s not so easy to just find the leak.” Henry countered, his voice firm as he addressed Mr. Sainz, causing a ripple of attention to sweep through the room as everyone glanced in his direction. “All the departments have launched internal investigations which have yet to deliver any substantial evidence.”

Henry's words hung heavy in the air, his candid assessment highlighting the challenges inherent in uncovering the source of the leaks. Via couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy for her colleague as he spoke, recognizing the immense pressure he must be under to address the issue.

As the tension in the room mounted, Via braced herself for Mr. Sainz's response, knowing that the outcome of the meeting hung in the balance.

“Then try harder.” Mr. Sainz quipped, his tone edged with frustration as he pushed back against Henry's explanation.

“Mr. Sainz, we can’t just fire persons we suspect without any reliable evidence counting in our favour. The investigations need to run their course, and we will go from there.” Henry countered, his response firm but respectful as he defended the cautious approach to handling the situation.

Via observed the exchange with a mixture of apprehension and admiration, recognizing the delicate balance between Mr. Sainz's demands for action and Henry's commitment to due process. The tension in the room was palpable as the two men squared off, each advocating for their respective positions with unwavering determination.

“If you, and your departments, are incapable of conducting a simple investigation, perhaps I should get a third-party investigator in to assist. Perhaps that will lighten the burden on you, Henry,” Mr. Sainz spat, his frustration evident in his tone. “You would think three months would provide you with sufficient time to have at least some leads, but even that seems impossible. Have we truly appointed a bunch of fools to run the departments, or am I hallucinating?”

A chill ran down Via’s back as she listened to the CEO threaten his employees. Despite his harshness, Via couldn't help but acknowledge that he had a point. After three months of investigation, there should have been at least some progress made in uncovering the source of the leaks.

“Mr. Sainz, I assure you, we are trying our best to-" Henry attempted to reason, but Mr. Sainz cut him off abruptly.

“Not to worry, Henry. I will take the necessary measures to ensure this matter is dealt with as soon as possible. We can’t keep losing money as a result of your tardiness.” Mr. Sainz snapped, his tone final and uncompromising as he asserted his authority.

The room grew eerily quiet as the individuals around the table refused to meet the CEO’s eyes, their silence hanging heavy in the air like a palpable tension. Despite the subdued atmosphere, Junior remained a passive bystander, observing the heated meeting with a calm detachment that belied the intensity of the situation.

Via couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as she glanced around the room, noting the strained expressions and tense postures of her colleagues. The weight of Mr. Sainz's words lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the room as everyone grappled with the implications of his ultimatum.

As the gruelling forty minutes of the meeting came to an end, Mr. Sainz finally concluded the proceedings, and a collective sense of relief swept through the room as everyone rushed out, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere created by the grumpy CEO. Some lingered for a moment longer to greet Junior, undoubtedly hoping to curry favour with the influential figure.

However, amidst the flurry of activity, Carlos's attention was focused solely on Via. While others vied for his attention, he remained fixated on her, his gaze following her movements as she went about clearing the table of empty champagne flutes and discarding crumpled paper balls into the waste bin.

Via couldn't help but feel a sense of unease under Carlos's scrutiny, the intensity of his gaze leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. Despite her discomfort, she remained composed, determined not to let her emotions show as she continued with her tasks, her mind racing with questions about the true nature of Carlos's interest in her.

Via's attention was momentarily diverted from her task as Eleanor's voice rippled through the room, breaking through the tension that lingered in the air. She turned to face Eleanor, her expression attentive as she awaited further instructions.

“Yes, Ms. Pope?” Via responded, her voice steady despite the undercurrent of uncertainty that coursed through her.

“I need you to come with me to Mr. Sainz's office. There are some matters we need to discuss.” Eleanor's gaze lingered on Via for a moment before she spoke again, her tone measured yet inscrutable.

Via's heart skipped a beat at Eleanor's words, a sense of apprehension settling over her as she followed Eleanor out of the boardroom and into the CEO's office. When Via and Eleanor entered Mr. Sainz’s office, they found Junior already in the midst of pouring whisky for his father and himself. The air in the room was thick with tension as Eleanor shut the door behind them, enveloping all four individuals in the confines of the office.

Senior's demeanour was visibly agitated as he threw his notepad down on the desk with a forceful gesture, causing Via to flinch slightly at the sudden movement. The sound echoed in the silence of the room, drawing Junior's attention as he placed his father’s drink down on the coaster on his desk.

“They are fucking imbeciles.” Senior's voice rumbled with palpable frustration, his words laced with contempt as he vented his frustration at the perceived incompetence of his employees. “Three months to conduct an internal investigation? That's unheard of.”

Eleanor, ever the composed presence in the room, wasted no time in addressing her boss's concerns.

“Would you like me to contact the PIs to start investigating?” She questioned, her voice steady despite the tension that permeated the air.

Mr. Sainz's expression softened slightly at Eleanor's offer, a hint of contemplation flickering in his eyes as he considered his next course of action.

“No. There's one more thing I want to do before we contact Verstappen.” He countered, his tone measured yet resolute as he hinted at a plan that had yet to be revealed.

Via listened intently to the exchange, her curiosity piqued by Mr. Sainz's cryptic words. With each passing moment, the anticipation in the room grew, leaving Via with a sense of apprehension about the unknown challenges that lay ahead.

“What’s the plan?” Eleanor wondered aloud, her curiosity mirroring Via's own as they awaited Mr. Sainz's response.

Mr. Sainz glanced briefly at Junior before his gaze settled on Via. With a decisive nod, he made his announcement, his words echoing through the room with unexpected clarity.

“You two will be running the investigation.” He declared, his voice carrying a weight of authority that brooked no argument.

Via's heart skipped a beat at the revelation, her mind racing with a flurry of questions and concerns. She exchanged a quick glance with Eleanor, their shared apprehension mirrored in each other's eyes. Via braced herself for the daunting task that awaited her, knowing that the success of the investigation would depend on her ability to rise to the occasion and prove herself worthy of Mr. Sainz's trust.

“Sir, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Eleanor quickly interjected, her concern evident in her voice as she voiced her reservations about the decision.

Mr. Sainz paused for a moment, considering Eleanor's question before offering his rationale. 

“Two young minds with clear perspectives is all we need. And, if I’m being honest, the leak could have been in that very meeting just now. A mistake will creep in at some point. I just want this handled.” He explained, his tone resolute as he defended his decision. “Will you two help us with this?”

Via felt a surge of apprehension at the weight of the responsibility placed upon her shoulders, but she knew that she couldn't afford to let her doubts overshadow her determination to succeed. With a sense of resolve, she met Mr. Sainz's gaze with unwavering determination.

“Yes, sir.” She agreed, her voice steady despite the uncertainty that lingered in the air.

Carlos, too, voiced his agreement, his expression solemn as he acknowledged the gravity of the task ahead.

“Yes, father.” He affirmed, his commitment unwavering as he prepared to embark on the investigation alongside Via.

As the reality of their new roles sank in, Via couldn't help but feel a sense of determination stirring within her. With Mr. Sainz's trust placed firmly in their hands, she knew that failure was not an option.

“Then it’s decided. Eleanor, will you make sure they have all the information they may need?” Mr. Sainz asked, his voice firm as he addressed Eleanor.

“Of course, sir.” Eleanor nodded in acknowledgment, her efficiency evident as she prepared to assist Via and Carlos in their new roles.

She turned to Via, her demeanour urgent as she grasped her arm, almost pulling her out of the office in her haste to get started on the investigation.

“Leave the girl.” Mr. Sainz requested, his tone softer as he settled back into his seat, signalling the end of the discussion.

Eleanor swallowed hard as she and Carlos exited the office, the weight of the impending investigation hanging heavy in the air. Meanwhile, Via turned back to face Mr. Sainz, her nerves fluttering as she awaited his next words.

“You can come closer, Ms. Driscoll. I don’t bite.” Mr. Sainz chuckled lightly, his demeanour surprisingly relaxed given the gravity of their conversation.

Via feigned a smile as she stepped closer to his desk, her curiosity piqued by his sudden change in tone.

“I’m sure you’re rather overwhelmed with all of this information.” He started, his voice gentle as he acknowledged the daunting task that lay ahead. “When we hire new staff members, we go through an extensive process in confirming their references. You’re one of very few employees who had a squeaky clean background.”

Via's heart skipped a beat at Mr. Sainz's words, her mind racing with a flurry of questions and concerns.

“May I ask where you’re heading with this, sir?” She asked, her voice steady despite the uncertainty that lingered in the air, catching Mr. Sainz by surprise.

“You’re direct. I like that.” Mr. Sainz remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice as he acknowledged Via's straightforwardness. “Eleanor has spoken very highly of you and commended your hard work. That’s why I would like you involved in this investigation. You seem to be quite level-headed, and that’s what I need in someone conducting this investigation. I also thought it would be the perfect opportunity to get Junior involved; a more hands-on approach, if you will.”

Via's heart swelled with a sense of pride at Mr. Sainz's words, her determination to succeed in the investigation growing stronger with each passing moment.

“Certainly, Mr. Sainz. Thank you.” She agreed, her voice steady as she expressed her gratitude for the opportunity.

“Of course, this is a confidential investigation. Not even the executives may know you or Junior are involved. Is that clear?” Mr. Sainz emphasised with his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

“Understood, sir.” Via assured him, her commitment to maintaining confidentiality unwavering as she prepared to embark on the investigation alongside Junior.

“Good.” Mr. Sainz smiled genuinely, a rare expression that softened his features. “That is all. Oh, please ask Junior to come in.”

Via nodded in acknowledgment as she rose from her seat, her mind still processing the weight of their conversation. She made her way to the door and opened it, fully expecting to find Junior waiting outside.

However, what she found on the other side was something she had not anticipated. Junior stood in front of Eleanor’s desk, his fists resting on the surface as he and Eleanor exchanged tense glances, the air thick with unspoken tension.

“You best tell your father to keep her out of this.” Eleanor warned, her voice laced with a hint of warning as she locked eyes with Junior, her demeanour unwavering despite the palpable tension between them.

Realising the gravity of the situation, Via quietly clicked the office door shut behind her, determined to prevent Mr. Sainz from overhearing their conversation. With each passing moment, the sense of unease in the air grew, leaving Via with a sinking feeling that there were more secrets lurking beneath the surface than she had initially realised.

“It’s too late, Eleanor. She’s already involved.” Carlos countered, his voice firm as he defended his father’s decision. “When are you going to stop questioning my father’s decisions?”

With a tense silence hanging in the air, Carlos pushed himself off Eleanor’s desk, his movements betraying the undercurrents of frustration and tension that simmered beneath the surface. As he turned towards his father’s office, his gaze inadvertently met Via's, and for a fleeting moment, the intensity in his eyes softened.

“Your father is asking for you.” Via stated softly, her voice breaking through the tension-filled atmosphere as she watched Carlos's demeanour shift, his wound-up body gradually softening in response to her words.

In that brief exchange, Via couldn't help but sense the complexity of the dynamics at play, the underlying tensions between father and son, as well as the unspoken connection that seemed to linger between Carlos and Eleanor.

Despite his softened demeanour, Carlos pushed past Via and entered his father’s office without a word, leaving Via to quietly close the door behind him. As the latch clicked into place, the tension in the air seemed to dissipate, leaving Via alone with Eleanor, whose stance had weakened considerably since Carlos's departure. 

Via approached Eleanor cautiously, concern etched into her features as she observed her colleague collapse onto her chair, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as if she had been holding them in for far too long.

“Is everything okay?” Via inquired gently, her voice laced with genuine concern as she reached out to offer Eleanor some comfort.

Eleanor scoffed at the question, her frustration evident in the sharpness of her tone as she struggled to regain her composure. Despite her outward bravado, Via could sense the vulnerability that lay beneath Eleanor's tough exterior, leaving her with a sinking feeling that there was more to Eleanor's distress than met the eye.

“Yes, Via, everything is perfectly fine. I just love babysitting my boss’s son. And, now you’re saddled up with him too.” Eleanor sarcastically replied, her words dripping with bitterness as Via made her way back to her desk. "As if we don’t have more important things to worry about."

Via couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at Eleanor's pointed remark, knowing that her involvement in the investigation had only added to her colleague's burden. With a heavy sigh, she settled back at her desk, the weight of the day's events lingering in the air like a thick fog.

Later that evening, as Via made her way out of the building, the sound of rain echoed off the pavement, its steady rhythm matching the tumultuous thoughts swirling in her mind. On any other day, she might have welcomed the rain as a soothing reprieve from the chaos of the day, but tonight it felt like an ominous portent of the challenges that lay ahead.

Via couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her, a nagging sense that the storm clouds gathering overhead were just the beginning of a much larger storm looming on the horizon.

Seeking refuge from the relentless rain, Via hurried into a cosy coffee shop just a block away from the office building. The soothing aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped her as she navigated through the bustling crowd, her thoughts still consumed by the events of the day and the impending interaction with Carlos for the investigation.

Finding solace in a seat close to the window, Via fumbled through her purse in search of her phone, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. Though she wasn't completely drenched, her hair glistened with droplets that threatened to obscure her phone's screen as she finally managed to unlock it.

With a sigh of frustration, Via opened the Uber app, only to be met with disappointment as she realised there were no available rides nearby.

“Wonderful.” She muttered under her breath, her irritation mounting with each passing moment.

Resigned to her fate, Via removed her coat and hung it over the back of her chair before scrolling through her contacts in search of Neil's number. Amidst the chaos of the crowded coffee shop, she longed for the comfort of familiar company, hoping that Neil would be able to offer some semblance of solace in the midst of her turbulent thoughts.

“Hey, Via.” Neil answered after a few rings, concern evident in his voice. “What's up?”

“The rain!” Via exclaimed, her voice shaky from the cold as she recounted her predicament.

“Where are you? I'll come pick you up.” Neil offered without hesitation, his willingness to help warmed Via's heart despite the chill in the air.

After providing Neil with her location and directions, Via sent him her exact coordinates and hung up, feeling a sense of relief knowing that help was on the way. She tucked her phone away and rubbed her hands together, attempting to generate some warmth as she waited for Neil's arrival.

As Via glanced out of the window, her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Carlos walking by and entering the busy coffee shop. She instinctively turned away, hoping to avoid any awkward encounters, but she couldn't shake the feeling of his presence lingering in the air like a familiar scent.

Carlos stood in line, patiently waiting to place his order, his eyes scanning the crowded coffee shop until they landed on Via's familiar figure. Despite his efforts to maintain a casual demeanour, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he observed her from a distance. He found himself drawn to her, his curiosity piqued by their brief interactions earlier in the day.

Their eyes met briefly in the reflection of the window, sparking a moment of silent recognition between them before Carlos tore his gaze away, his thoughts consumed by the enigma that was Via. Her voice echoed in his mind, its soothing yet firm tone reminiscent of his mother's, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of intrigue.

Meanwhile, Neil entered the coffee shop, his eyes scanning the bustling crowd until they landed on Via. With determination in his stride, he made his way towards her, every effort focused on catching her attention and ensuring her safety amidst the chaos of the storm.

“Via!” Neil exclaimed, his voice cutting through the air and drawing both Ana's and Carlos's attention.

Ana turned to see Neil approaching, a warm smile on his face as he helped her into her coat. Carlos's gaze remained fixed on the interaction, his curiosity piqued by the familiarity between Ana and Neil, and the ease with which they shared physical contact.

“It's freezing, and I really just want to get home.” Ana informed Neil, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency as she leaned into his comforting presence.

Neil nodded in understanding, more than happy to assist his friend in any way he could. As they made their way out of the coffee shop, Carlos quickly grabbed his coffee order and followed behind them, the chill of the night air driving them closer together as they sought warmth in each other's company.

“You're shaking, Annie. I have an extra coat in the car.” Neil observed, concern evident in his voice as he pulled Ana closer to him, offering her the comfort and support she needed in that moment.

As Neil and Via reached Neil's car, Via's gaze wandered to the sleek Ferrari parked next to it, realising it belonged to Carlos. She couldn't help but feel a pang of recognition as Carlos greeted her by her full name.

“Olivia.” Carlos greeted her.

“Hello.” Via responded vaguely, her mind still reeling from the encounter as she hurried into Neil's car, eager to put some distance between herself and Carlos.

Carlos's smile faded into a frown as he watched Via retreat, his thoughts swirling with questions and uncertainties. He climbed into his own car, his expression unreadable as he started the engine and drove off with an air of determination.

Back in Neil's car, Via's unease lingered as Neil buckled his seatbelt, his question hanging in the air.

“Who was that?” He wondered aloud, his curiosity reignited by the unexpected interaction.

“That's the boss's son.” Via explained, her voice betraying a hint of apprehension as she glanced out of the window, still processing the encounter.

“Oh! Well, he is attractive.” Neil chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood with a playful remark. “Maybe you should be a bit nicer to him.”

Via managed a weak smile in response, though her thoughts remained consumed by the enigmatic figure of Carlos Sainz Jr. and the mysteries surrounding him.

[littlemissemeritus]

𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡. (𝐩𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞?) pairing; cardinal copia x gn!reader words; 1.4k warnings; none, except tooth rotting fluff!!

Copia was as elusive as a fox in the night. You'd hear tell of him from Terzo, casual conversation between him and a fawning Sister of Sin. Every Sibling was infatuated with the current frontman, and by some extent, you were too. He was kind, and funny and oh-so-sweet but your loyalties lay with a man you'd never even spoken to.

You saw him in the library like a terrified ghost in the dark, eyes widening as soon as he'd realised he was spotted. You watched him from afar when he took a stroll around the garden outside the church, pretending to be interested in your shoes when anyone looked your way. You observed him as he spoke with Terzo during lunch, shyly staring at him over the book you inevitably had clasped in your lace-clad hands. And, oh, how you wished he looked at you how he stared at the holy books of your faith. So engrossed and so focused, his gloved hands running along the yellowing pages of the tome with such care. How he ran his fingers through the flower bushes in the garden, twirling the roses round between his thumb and forefinger with meticulous interest. You so wished he looked at you like that. But, maybe you didn't know him as well as you claimed. You didn't notice the way his gaze lingered on you for just the extra second when you wished him a good morning. You didn't see the way he watched you when you were on cleaning duty, sweeping the hallway of the Ministry as you sang Terzo's songs so beautifully. And he felt the same way you did; why wouldn't you notice him? The both of you poor tortured souls stuck in an endless cycle of impending failure as neither took a step forward. Copia was convinced you found him odd, and you were convinced he thought you far too young and immature. When in actuality, the admiration that both of you had for one another was almost palpable. Almost. So, one fateful sunny day, when a devil from the pits of hell must've been looking up at both of you, you found him sitting, alone beside the waterfall at the centre of the garden. You obviously didn't believe in the existence of heaven, but that man looked like he just fell right out of it. His milky white eye catching the light just right so it shone like an opal, his whole prescense an unholy beacon of light in your life. And as usual, you spent so much time watching this alluring son of bitch do the most mundane task in the world, you forgot you had to walk at the same time. Your foot so gracefully colided with a pot of Primo's hydrangeas, making you stumble then land flat on your lovesick face. And oh, your cheeks began to burn at the thought Copia would see that... "Merda! Fratello, are you okay?" Copia's worried voice broke through your embarrassed thoughts as you heard him scramble to stand up to help you. You cringed, the fluster creeping up your neck as you tried to push yourself up again, his leather hand landing on your shoulder. Looking up at his anxious expression, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he offered his hand, you felt your heart twinge, cautiously taking it. "Sathanas, I'm so sorry, Cardinal, I'm so clumsy-" You shyly tried to explain, fingers dabbing at your nose that burnt with pain before his hand gently made contact with your already warm face, "You're bleeding, Fratello." "What?" You asked as you pulled your fingers away, internally frowning as the warmth of his palm left your cheek. Gaze swivelling down to your hand, your watery eyes widened with surprise at the blood smeared across your fingertips, "Oh, hell, that's going to leave a bruise..." "I have an, uhm, how do you say? Fazzoletto... ah, hankerchief!" He said hurriedly as he stuck his hand in his pocket before fishing out a dark square of fabric, holding it out to you, almost shyly. His expression was so innocent and caring it made your heart hurt, gently taking it from his grasp as you could barely suppress a smile, "And I'll walk you to the infirmary. If- If you want to."

Smiling sweetly at him, you pressed the velvety fabric to your smarting nose, looking up at him shyly. This was the longest you'd ever spoken to this man without either of you turning on your heel and immediately scurrying away, "I'd love you to." He grinned back, almost as if he didn't know how, like a toddler learning how to smile for the first time. It made your head swim and legs unsteady, which you could thankfully blame on your fall. And you could lean against his shoulder, body prickling with heat like the flames of Hell were licking at your skin. But, did you really think you were the only one struggling in this situation? Copia felt as if he was having a heart attack, his chest was that tight. Well, at least if he was going to die, he could die at the height of happiness with the Sibling of his dreams hanging off his arm so prettily. You were so effortlessly gorgeous to him; the way you styled your hair, the way you smiled, hell, the way you looked at him. As if there was nobody else worthing looking at. And in your eyes there wasn't. Clearing your throat, you two began to walk the winding path to the back door of the Ministry, in no rush whatsoever to get where you going. You tongue felt as if it was betraying you, almost swollen in your mouth as it wouldn't let any words fall past your lips. Finally, you managed to almost choke out a sentence, though you tried to make it seem casual, "So, uh- what were you doing back there?" "Ah, you know Star Wars, si? Well, they have books of them. I'm on, uh, the third one at the minute." He said as he gestured back to the novel that sat idly on the fountain rim. You nodded as he began to explain the plot of the book in meticilous detail, badly suppressing a smile as you watched him get so excited, "...And then obviously, Obi Wan is exiled, whereafter he takes, ah, what was her name? Oh, Padme, to Alderaan where she had Luke and Leia. "But, you've seen Star Wars, right? You've heard this all before." He said as he looked down at you which earned a sheepish giggle, making him raise a brow. "Sorry to, uh, break your heart, Cardinal- but, I've never seen it." You said slowly as you gave a contrite shrug, looking at your shoes as if they were interesting before gazing back up at him. This was the first time you'd ever seen him express so much emotion at something, genuinely baffled and almost betrayed at your admission. "Oh, mio Dio, il tesoro! How have you never seen it?" He exclaimed indignantly, shaking his head at you as you giggled shyly, Copia carefully opening the door for you as you skipped through and then waited for him on the other side. The infirmary was just in front of you both, Copia still muttering to himself about how insane it was that you'd never seen it. Then, he looked right at you, "Maybe I'll have to change that, yeah? We could watch it sometime." Your ears ring like somebody had just fired a gun beside your head, almost wondering if he really had said what he just said. He wanted to watch a movie with you? With you? Swallowing thickly, you collected your thoughts as you folded his hankerchief, pressing it back into his hand as you pushed yourself up on your toes to press a soft kiss to his warm cheek, "I'd love that." The Cardinal's face burned a dark red colour, eyes wide and jaw slack as his leather bound fingers gently pressed againt the spot where your lips had touched. Did that really just happen? Had you just really kissed him? His chest was tightening so hard again it hurt to breath, nodding wordlessly. You grinned shyly as you opened the door, gave him a coy wave before shutting it behind you. And that's when it dawned on you... he had called you honey.

a/n: thank u sm for reading!! please ask if u want to be added to a taglist!! i wanna say a HUGE thank you to @maxyboii527 for doing the art work for this fic AND proof reading, please go follow him hes so nice!! <333

[overtaken-stream]

i dont know your rules or if you have a masterlist but out of nowhere I got obsessed with King and i need more fics on him, my favorites are headcanons

so if you could write about him like yandere headcanons where he kidnapped reader who he caught insterest in

or bedroom headcanons like its canon that he is a sadistic pervert but do yo think he would like to be dommed by his s/o

I don't have any rules and no master list yet! But I'm glad you decided to send this ask! As a fellow King-starved OP fan it can be quite hard to find any content about him, especially as a Yandere, like- why, it works so well with him!! As for bedroom headcanons, I wrote this a while ago. Not exactly a straightforward answer to your question but still, I think you'll get the answer yourself. Also, I managed to fit some backstory about King😅 (most of it is actually his backstory) but I promise it explains his... yandareness... my writing style is different but I hope you'll like it. More ideas about this AU have come to me as I was working on this, so let me know if I should write part 2... Anyway, hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: Spoilers for King's real name, his backstory, kidnapping, closed-off character, murder, arson.

No matter where Alber goes, there will always be a certain darkness following him, the darkness that began surfacing inside of him ever since he became a research subject at Punk Hazard. The memories of warmth are lost to him, his family members, their faces, their love, traditions- everything from his past turned into shadowy figures that visit him in the dead of night, where he laid bare on his back, defenseless and unable to move an inch.

Alber experiences, no- has experienced those lonesome nights too many times after his escape, with Kaidou at his side, passed out drunk, there was only so much he could do under the night sky, as the sweat rolled down his chin, awake and stricken with fear, haunted by the nightmarish masks and white coats. The extreme heat lingered under his skin, with no scars to show the battles he survived on the Punk, though he could still feel the consequences of others' actions.

Each day his loyalty to Kaidou grows and so does his disdain for the people they have met on their journey. Days and months soon turned into years, years he has spent becoming stronger, years he spent with Kaidou, he has to catch up with him, perhaps matching up to his strength, but that is reaching too far, for Kaidou is strong, stronger then he'll ever be. Each second his world shrinks down to only the hero, who had saved him, his vision is blind to the islands they traveled to and conquered, blind to the beaten-up bodies they defeated. The colors of his environment blur together, lost to the intriguing laugh of his captain. He stares after the huge back, a back which he has to fill with his own will and strength, He is no longer Alber, for the boy was a shadow that no longer belonged to his body, weak, only confident in his endurance, a prey waiting for salvation. The worthless name stood on empty grounds, a new title was given to him.

He tries his best and this time, his best is enough for the man he idolizes (He has to thank his biology). He backs up his captain and engraves his name onto the burnt enemy's back, King. He takes pride in his new title, fit for Joyboy's first-mate.

He is no longer Alber. He is now the predator that the scientists have tried to research and avoid. He puts on a nobles mask, made of the finest leather. He puts on a new identity, on that day, on that land, a monster was born, a monster that happened to burry its emotions into the depths of the ocean.

King smiles.

Even after their crew gets big, annoying comments from Queen are met with aggressive glares, his facial features are hidden behind a dark mask that's acting as an intimidation factor, he holds the crew together purely for Kaidou, there is no respect tugging at his actions, sentiment hasn't had a place in him for some time now. What he first felt when he met Kaidou only brings so much to the table, so little emotion, aside from authority. The dark grows, and even if he is emitting an eternal fire, ebony covers his frames, cooling the heat and leaving him in the chilliness of The Beast's shadow. In utter darkness.

King kills, tears the bodies up, and burns them until not even the bones remain. All he does is stare down at the screaming faces, staring them down as they did to Alber. All he sees is the red light coming from the burning village. The smell of rot follows after him as he walks down the streets of an unnamed island.

In a small cottage at the end of the town, he feels a presence hiding from him. Away from the door which he bursts through. He doesn't waste his time as he strides into the person's house, in a place he can see their shaking silhouette. His steps are loud in his tiny bubble, with no fire or scream entering his field of hearing, he doesn't hear the door shut itself, but he can feel the breaths that left the person's nose, and can hear the vibrations caused by their shaky figure across the floor. In the dark of the room, he opens a cabinet to find scared!you.

And his field of vision, which was locked onto Kaidou all this time, shifts. It gets bigger as he stares into your scared eyes, glossed over with tears trickling down your face, your expression is drowned in fear as you look up at him. Unknown to the feelings running through him.

The feelings, the emotions he buried long ago now seemed to resurface, looking at your sweat-covered forehead, his eyes travel over your form, they remain frigid, even as his heart rate speeds up, even as the world around you becomes darker, even as his breathing becomes heavy.

Up until now, only Kaidou existed, for Kaidou. With Kaidou. Now the narrow view of him widens as you, a mare civilian join the everlasting space that exists inside of him. Your eyes so bright, filled with fear attract him. Your face shape, so tender and beautiful. You are the only color that exists in the dark, the only light in the endless tunnel.

The house is dark, but you emit light, you stick out even when he has stopped using Observation Haki. You make him feel warm in a way that he has never experienced before.

His heart is beating faster and faster the longer your eye contact lasts, his wind was knocked out of his lungs by the time he moved.

As he takes you by your arm, you stay quiet in fear of what he could do, quivering as he wraps his fingers fully around your arm. Your legs are frozen, acting like dead meat when he drags you out of the untouched house, they barely move when you realize the situation you got into.

He doesn't answer your questions of what he is doing or where he is taking you, his ears only picked up your voice, so angelic and clear in the sparks of fire that lit your garments, your skin and hair shining in beautiful reds and yellows, though he would enjoy seeing your natural colors. In a setting much cooler, and less tragic than this.

His world warps once again, he doesn't falter when Jack tosses a strange look his way as he gets closer to their ship.

He remains unaffected by your insults and weak attempts to set yourself free from his grasp. His natural strength is much greater than yours will ever be.

He ends up taking you to his room, barely remembering the path he took to get there and the faces he must have come across. He only lets go of you when the door is locked.

[legomonkiefics]

💀🩵 Mayor x Masc Reader — Post S3 HCs 🩵💀

Genres: Romance, Hurt/Comfort || he/him pronouns for reader || Warnings: Mild angst

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨💀୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

- The Mayor had always been an odd guy to you. Super eccentric, an off-putting demeanor, a smile that only ever stretched and a cold air around him that could never be explained

- But he was kind to you. His forever wide smile seemed just a little more natural around you, his wide eyes relaxing a little and conversations coming more casually between the two of you

- You didn't quite expect to find him at your doorstep after that icy apocalypse all disheveled and bruised, but you let him inside immediately. At first all he did was rave about some plan and 'his Lady' living up to her destiny— things you couldn't make sense of

- But exhaustion set in after what felt like hours of senseless ramblings. He almost seemed to deflate, leaning against the cushions of your couch with a furrowed brow and a heavy frown. You stepped closer, and he allowed your presence, looking up at you with a small and tired smile

- One of the first things you convinced him to do was bathe. He smelled like old mud and felt absolutely freezing to the touch. Once he came out of the warm bath, you helped him discard his old tattered clothes and he borrowed some of yours for the time being

- Mayor was immediately grateful to you. He called you 'my lord' essentially every chance he got. Everything you asked of him, he completed without question, and he stood by your side whenever he got the chance

- It was charming at first, but after a few weeks it got a little worrisome. You talked to him eventually, telling him to try doing a few things himself or letting you go out without assistance

- It took time, but Mayor adjusted to thinking for himself little by little. Soon his lingering near you was by active choice, out of a sense of trust rather than bleak loyalty. His nickname turned to a kinder 'my prince'

- He adored the warmth you gave him. Your reassuring smiles, your gentle glances, your kind words. All were so warm to him. Every time you cradled his hands or cupped his cheeks to try and soothe their chill, he leaned into the contact like a man starved for it

- He always likes to be in contact with you in one way or another now. He loves having his hand on your shoulder or back, sitting so close your legs touch or leaning against one another on the couch

- Without the Lady Bone Demon, he felt lost. For months he had pondered what his purpose was supposed to be now, why destiny had casted him aside. But now he felt more sure. Now, he could tell what he wanted

- And what he wanted more than anything, was to stay by your side, and finally feel that comforting warmth from you alone

[paingoes]

Destroyer - Rupture

(Masterlist)

(Content: starvation, captivity, violence mention, trafficking mention, death mention, “gay” as an insult, fear, minor emeto)

=======================

They’d locked him in his room again. Delta was getting the sickest sense of déjà vu. He was glad the tap was still running and that he’d been stashing food, because the first three days they’d forgotten to feed him. Maybe it was understandable. The Thorn had descended into chaos, presumably. Simon didn’t even come see him, probably in a total tizzy over his ever-dwindling job security. Delta had been locked up alone for a week now. When he’d first been thrown in here, he’d still been splattered with Paris’s blood.

He turned the fan on, letting the cold air wash over him. It helped to calm him down. 

The only access he had to the outside world was with the laptop. Everyone online knew. There had been grainy footage posted of the assassination attempt. Everyone thought it was Nezu. In truth, the Thales bloodlust ran deep — and it ran in different directions. There could have been any number of mercenaries who were carrying out their business against the imperial line. But there was no denying that Paris’s death would certainly be convenient for the general.

Paris’s actual condition was uncertain. He wasn’t dead yet, not officially. But Delta had seen the spot where the arrow pierced him. They were probably just keeping him on ice. He could already see how this would play out. Paris would die. The next person to inherit Δ-107 would be Nezu, who had already made his intentions with Delta very clear. He’d put his brain in a jar, if he was feeling merciful. And even if by some miracle he did not end up in Nezu’s court, the odds still weren’t good. If everyone had really found out about the first “escape attempt”, whoever it was would likely kill or maim him. So that was that.

Delta was sick of Empire. Any lingering loyalty he might’ve had to it would die with Paris. This place was a cesspool collapsing in on itself. He felt disgusted and ashamed to have ever been part of it.

There was no one to betray now, no one to punish him, no one to anger and no one to disappoint. He took a deep breath, sorting through the directory once more. There was nothing to lose. He was dead anyway.

ndhakdvsnnd: EMPIREfile2ndQ.zip (574 MB) ndhakdvsnnd: enjoy guys

His laptop almost exploded.

=============

He had to shut the computer down. In part because it was overheating to the point of burning, but in part because the attention scared him. He forced himself to read for a few hours before opening the machine back up. There were thousands of replies to the thread.

chat is this real

FAKE AND GAY

check 92. that would explain all the lights in the sky by scandia.

empire is cooked

We are not doing this shit again 

lol did the hera trafficking conspiracy just get canonized 

I used to work accounting at Empire. this is the same code they used, sooooo 

Nice knowing you OP

Delta reread that last response carefully. He checked his VPN settings, making sure he was still somewhat protected. It was on. He looked briefly through his post history to see if there was anything there that might hint at his identity. But he’d been careful. Before Lemuria, he’d never even acknowledged anything relating to Empire publicly.

His inbox was full. He went through, deleting every single stranger that had messaged him “real?”

There were some people he did recognize, though. A girl he’d been messaging on the programming board was pinging him again. They’d only had a few conversations before, but they tended to run long. She was always nice to him. He trusted her to be cool about it.

katkittykat: whoaaaahhhhh where did u find this :0

katkittykat: u have been practicing ur leet haxx skills !!!!

katkittykat: u set ur proxy up right  ?? theyre gonna try and swat u

katkittykat: dw its a rite of passage :3

ndhakdvsnnd: yes the vpn works. i dont know what that means.

katkittykat: its just an expression 

katkittykat: u should b careful tho im gonna send u smth

ndhakdvsnnd: okay

katkittykat: :P

He clicked the link she’d sent. It was a guide she had clearly made herself, written in the same cheery pink text. It contained instructions for how to finish encrypting the browser and ways to brick anyone who came looking for him. It was a bit above his level, but she must have believed he was capable of it. Besides, he had nothing better to do. It took him the rest of the night to set up. She was still online when he finished.

ndhakdvsnnd: okay i did it

katkittykat: yay!!! are u planning on uploading more

ndhakdvsnnd: i dont know if i will have time

katkittykat: ur not gonna tell me ur source right  ??

ndhakdvsnnd: no

katkittykat: lololol i didnt think so

katkittykat: b safe pls <3

B safe. It was a little late for that. Delta looked through the Empire portal again. It had only been a few hours, but he was happy to see that the leak hadn’t yet been acknowledged. A little flash of fear ran through his mind. He thought about what it would be like when it did eventually get caught. He reminded himself that he was already doomed – and doomed was a binary state. Though logical, it was not a very comforting line of reasoning. He stood up and calmly walked to the bathroom, dry-heaving into the sink. His body knew exactly how to feel about it. It turned itself inside out in protest.

~~~

Tags: @catnykit @indigoviolet311 @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @defire @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump

[artedimichelangelo]

Hii! Since you take requests for hod now, could I get an aemond and reader fic where theyre arranged to be married and secretly like each other? One day she accidently sees him without his eyepatch and he gets all insecure abt it? Just soft aemond and fluffy endings? Thanks!

Do not fear - Aemond Targaryen x Stark! Fem! Reader

Author's Note: Hii! Thanks for your request, I added a few details about the readers and I hope this little fic is to your liking!

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Stark! Fem! Reader, Helaena x Stark! Fem! Reader (the two are friends).

Warnings: English is NOT my first language; possible grammatical errors; fluff?

Word Count: 1067.

The sun was high in the sky, illuminating all the streets of King's Landing and making the crimson stone of the Red Keep stand out.

In the castle corridors, there was a continuous bustle of servants and maids, busy with the grand wedding that was to take place in the great hall in a few days.

To distract Y/n from the chaos and spend some time together, Princess Helaena decided to take her lady-in-waiting to the gardens, especially as she would be processing her wedding gift there.

"My Princess, I do not think it is necessary to give me a gift," Andromeda tells her politely as Helaena places the most majestic butterflies in all of Westeros between her friend's raven locks.

"I insist, this portrait is also a thank you from me for our friendship and your loyalty over the years," the other replied, concentrating on balancing the scarabs and caterpillars on the flowers placed in the daughter of the North's hands. "In addition, I asked you to use my name. We have been companions for several moons now."

It was true: Y/n Stark had lived with the royal family since she was a young girl, and it was with them that she had experienced the happiest moments of her life, despite the distance from her kin.

Even the youngest of Alicent Hightower's sons, Aemond, had grown fond of the girl, who was one of the few people to treat him like a human before and after the incident with Princess Rhaenyra's children.

The future bride remembered the moments spent with the young prince as if they had happened the day before.

"One day I will marry you, Y/n..." Aemond murmured in a small voice as he stroked the little girl's hair. "I promise you with this blue flower, blue as the sky in which we will fly together on the back of my dragon!" He confidently exclaimed as she looked at him with admiration and joy.

While the two girls were engrossed in their conversations and the elaboration of the portrait, Prince Aemond emerged from the entrance of the gardens and lingered near the stone archway; his solid gaze softened at the sight of his future wife posing, completely mesmerised by her immeasurable beauty.

"I apologise for interrupting you, but I was looking for Aegon. We were supposed to train together, and I cannot find him." He explained to the girls, who replied that they had seen no trace of the missing brother. "Very well, I will leave you to your business. If anything, you will find me in the training grounds with Ser Cole." Aemond responded in a stoic voice, and after bowing to the two, he headed for the training ground.

At the end of the painting session, Y/n said goodbye to her future sister-in-law and decided to visit Aemond.

On the way, she met Ser Cole, who told her the prince was still at the camp after their sword duel.

She was always thrilled to see the one she had always loved, even though they spent most of their time together, yet she could not avoid the ball of heat that pounded in her chest just thinking about him.

As she crossed the stone threshold, everyone bowed before her and greeted her as she crossed the field to the tents.

Without a second thought, she entered the first one before her, which revealed Prince Aemond's intent on freeing himself from his duelling attire; his missing eye patch revealed the blue gleam of the sapphire that replaced the lost eye.

Finally realising Lady Stark's presence, he felt the blood run cold in his veins and with a swift movement, he spun around to hide from her.

"Please, my dearest, I don't want you to see me like this." Aemond had always been unsure of his appearance after the incident years before. People did not look at him and if they did, they gave him repulsed looks as if he had become a monster.

"Do not fear," she murmured, her honey-sweet voice capable of warming the young man's soul. "And do not hide, not from me."

He sat on a filthy stool, his head bowed downwards, still undecided whether to show himself to her for good.

Y/n knelt before him and let her delicate hand rest on Aemond's cheek.

"Look at me... I was there with you when your wound was still fresh, I helped you clean it and even there, my mind regarding you did not change." She reassured him, her grey eyes focused on his face. "Do not fear, I will love you eternally and protect you until I die. I swear it by all the gods in existence."

Her reassuring words and calm voice gave Aemond the courage he needed to raise his head.

His furrowed brow relaxed as he opened his eyes and took in the sight of how the sunlight from the crack in the tent perfectly illuminated Y/n.

"You do not reckon that I am a hideous monster?"

"I grew up with you, I could never think that." She gently kissed the prince's scar and rested her forehead against his. "Understand that your insecurities do not make you a horrible person, and being aware of them does not make you weak, only more human, and I am willing to show my love for them so that you appreciate them too."

Aemond was happy, relieved, to have a woman like her by his side.

"Do you know why I chose this blue gem?" He asked, arousing curiosity in the girl, who nodded to continue with the answer. "It reminded me of you, Lady Stark, and the promise I made to you with the blue flower when I was just a little prince."

"It almost seems as if it happened yesterday, and here I am, this instant, in the arms of the one I have always loved." Her eyes shone with contentment.

The silver-haired boy was even more relieved, knowing she loved him from the beginning too.

"I always knew I was the more charming brother deep down..." He whispered, but Y/n heard him and gave him a small pat on the chest, trying to hide a slight laugh. "Why do you think not?" Aemond feigned an offended look, which fell immediately after his beloved placed her lips on his in a gentle kiss.

"I have always loved a humble prince."