#ok what if i asked again but really nicely this time :3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shy-writer-999 · 6 months ago

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Summary: Zoro loves to tease you until you cry. Seeing your face glistening from tears really gets him going. What happens when he finally gives you what you want? Afab reader, ~2k words.

CW: Pure smut. Gendered language, e.g. "pretty girl", edging, toys, crying, overstimulation, P in V. Note that this is consensual & no safeword used :3

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

Zoro held a vibrator to your clit at the lowest setting and slowly fucked you with three fingers. His brows were bent, and he was laser focused on the slick dribbling out of you.

For the past two hours, every time you were about to cum he’d turn the vibrator off and pull his fingers out. He was being cruel. You’d gotten to the brink of orgasm no less than 10 times. By the 5th you were begging him to let you cum, and, historically, he’d give in. But today, no matter how much you begged, he just wasn’t listening.

He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it.

Hot tears made trails down your cheeks, hooking under your jaw and pooling on your collar bone. Zoro’s cock twitched at the sight. He loved to see you like this, drooling, begging for his cock, so worked up from his fingers that you started to cry in frustration. Every sob made him feel like he was on fire, every tear coaxed more precum out of his tip.

This was like a sport to him. He got off on seeing you unravel from his fingertips, fully broken down in pleasure. When your eyes got glossy, teary, and you could barely talk, he knew he was doing it right.

Zoro took the vibrator off your clit and left his fingers in you, unmoving. His hand was a mess—your arousal coated every finger and his whole palm, glistening around his wrist and dripping onto the covers.

“Zoro, please,” you pleaded for the millionth time, voice cracking. “Wanna cum, please.”

Blinking through the blurry drops of your tears and batting your eyelashes for visibility, you could see Zoro’s sickeningly sweet smile. “I know you do, sweetheart. But you gotta hang in there.”

“Zoro,” you tried to wiggle around on his fingers for friction. You needed him to move. You were going fucking crazy.

He tutted and pulled his fingers out of you, a sticky string connecting his fingertips to your puffy, red lips. You gasped at the emptiness, exasperated beyond words. You couldn’t think straight, and the tears wouldn’t stop.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby. Can’t you keep going?” He was frowning.

You didn’t want to disappoint him. But you were reaching your limit. More desperate tears seeped out of the corners of your eyes.

Sucking his fingers clean, Zoro then cupped your face with both hands and kissed you tenderly. The kisses were salty from your tears.

He wiped under your eyes with both thumbs, swiping away the frustration. “You poor thing. I’ll put my cock in you, ok? But you have to ask really nicely this time.”

You nodded vigorously. “Please Zoro, please fuck me. I need your cock so bad. Please.”

He sighed and frowned again. “Don’t you need it more than that?”

Tears welled in your eyes again. He was being downright ruthless. You had asked nicely. Really nicely. But it wasn’t enough.

“Zoro, fuck” you sobbed. “’M going crazy. I’ll do anything. P-please fuck me. Please.”

He brought a hand down to lazily stroke himself for a moment while he stared into your cock-crazed eyes. He loved it when you were pathetic like this, when you were shameless.

Tanned skin rippled as Zoro’s rough hand twisted over the head of his cock, grazing the sensitive spots on and under his head. Precum oozed out of his inflamed slit, every drop evidence of how badly he wanted you.

He leaned close to your face and practically growled. “When I fuck you, you have to promise not to cum unless I say so. Either that or I won’t fuck you at all.”

His threat made you feel fucking feral. You didn’t care at this point, and you would agree to anything. “Zoro, I promise. Just fuck me.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow and then positioned you exactly how he liked, in some sort of mating press. One hand held your thigh up, fingerpads digging into your plush flesh. The other was braced on the bed next to you. He lined his cock up with your entrance and took a deep breath. Your eyes were lust-filled, hungry, and almost rabid. His heart skipped a beat.

Pushing through your folds as slowly as he could, he could feel your walls starting to clamp down on his cock. You were so wet that it felt like heaven to him—slippery, velvety, and warm. When he bottomed out, he let out a lengthy groan. “Fuuucccck.”

Finally, Zoro’s hips rocked and grinded into you. Every shove of his cock felt electric. Each bundle of nerves that his tip and shaft dragged over sent waves and tingles of pleasure to your core, radiating outwards to every limb. Your toes were already curling with pleasure.

Zoro had been waiting for this moment. He made you ready enough for his cock, and now he was going to fuck you into oblivion.

His girthy, veiny cock pushed out and in, and each pass attacked your g-spot. Your back was arching, you keened his name continuously, and your eyes rolled back in your head. You had completely lost yourself, forgetting what was going on or who you were; you only knew one thing—Zoro’s cock.

Orgasm approached within minutes. He could tell from the way you started to shudder around him and the way your thighs started to tremble. He frowned again and held still.

“Baby, I said you can’t cum unless I say so.”

“Zoro, ‘m so close, please.”

“Don’t you want to be good for me?”

Once again, you started to cry. It was almost worse now that he was fully fucking you but dangling your orgasm in front of your face. Any time you tried to get it, he’d yank it out of reach. He was sadistic about it. But really, what could you expect? It was naive to think that he’d let you cum right off the bat.

“I wanna be good,” you sobbed quietly, and your fingers clawed half-moons into his biceps. Your tortured eyes met his. Zoro was looking at you like he was going to devour you. Like he’d rip out each morsel of pleasure and then leave you for good. It felt like he was using you, but you knew that he was doing it with your own interest in mind. Any time he got heartless like this, your orgasm almost made you faint.

“I-I’ll be so good, Zoro. Please. I’ll wait. I promise.”

“That’s my girl,” he groaned at your words and tears. He fucked you again, slower this time, pressing more of his weight on your thigh that he was holding up. His other hand passed up your body, travelling from your hips to your breasts.

Greedy hands massaged and squeezed. Fingertips brushed over your sensitive buds gently. Pulling and pinching them, he rolled one nipple softly and then harder until you whined and your eyes fluttered.

“Doing such a good job for me, pretty girl. Keep takin’ my cock like that and I’ll let you cum.”

You whimpered as he fucked you so deeply that his cock hit your cervix. It hurt, but the pain was overrun by the gigantic waves of pleasure elicited from your cunt any time Zoro’s head snagged over your hot gooey spot.

“Just like that,” he murmured quietly, coming as close to your face as he could. Your walls throbbed and clenched around him, squeezing out his precum and swallowing his shaft. “So fuckin’ wet for me, baby.”

“Zoro, ’m getting close,” you mewled. Everything about you intoxicated him. Whenever your tits bounced from his thrusts, whenever you scrunched your nose up from him fucking you too deep, those damp cheeks from your tears moments ago… You had been good for him. You’d let out enough needy whimpers, too. You earned it.

“Let it out. Cream on my cock, sweetheart. Show me how much you love it.”

As soon as you registered his permission, you came. You screamed his name, convulsed and spasmed under him, throwing your head back with euphoria. It felt like you orgasmed for minutes. Your juices gushed out around the base of his cock and he moaned at the sensation.

It was foolish of you to assume he would be done after that.

Of course, his hips kept grinding into yours through your orgasm. You started to squirm.

“Zoro, fuck,” you whimpered. “’s too much.”

“No, it’s not.” He cooed and purred in your ear. “I know you’ve got another for me. No matter how much you writhe, I’m still going to fuck you through it.”

More tears. It felt like he was pressing a button in you that made you wince from overstimulation and pleasure. “Z-zoro, fuck, it’s—it’s too much, Zoro.” You struggled and contorted around his cock. It felt too good, the sensation was too overwhelming, you wanted it to stop but at the same time it was addictive.

“Stay still for me.” He put all his weight on you, and you continued to writhe for a second before you did what he said. Your eyes were fucked-out and hazy, barely sentient of what was happening other than pleasure. His hips rolled with each squelching sound that echoed in the room. Slowly, your cunt started to pulse again.

“Does it feel good now, princess? You like it when I stuff you full of my cock?” Zoro was starting to get riled up. Each hump and thrust goaded feverish desire.

“You’re milking my cock so well, baby. Pussy feels so good.” Every nasty word he rasped in your ear burned.

As Zoro’s peak built, yours did too. He wanted to time it so you came at the same time—though he could be a sadist, he was also a romantic. To climax together was something sweet that he put the utmost effort into.

He praised and encouraged you as much as he could muster. He choked out a word between each grunt. “Doing—so—good—for—me— fuck.”

Zoro reached a hand to rub his fingers in circles over your clit. The noises you produced were guttural and primal—it’s like pleasure was exploding in you. He pressed down with his thumb, hard, and you gasped his name.

“Let it out, sweetheart. Cum on my cock. Wanna feel it.”

Your second orgasm was pure ecstasy. Zoro wrenched it from your core, ripped it out of you like the animal he was. When you started to shake, his hips jerked into you, haphazard and frenzied.

“F-fuck, fuck, your pussy is—so good, fuck, ‘m cumming, fuuuccckkkk.” He came, cocked twitching, seeing stars. You could feel him filling you up, hot and sticky.

Completely losing touch with the world, your orgasm literally crushed your sense of reality. You blacked out for a couple seconds, and by the time you were cognizant again, Zoro’s cum was leaking out of your cunt. He was panting, trying to catch his breath. Sweat matted his hair down around his temples, his cheeks were ruddy, his hair was ruffled up and he was a mess. “Fucking hell, babe.”

Zoro may have been the one feigning control during your sessions of arduous orgasm denial, crying, and fucking, but in reality, you pulled the strings. He wouldn’t have the experience he wanted, and you wouldn’t have the experience he wanted for you, if you didn’t play along too. Zoro knew this, and he was grateful that you’d humor him, grateful that you cherished his intimacy enough to entertain hours of edging, crying, and nasty fucking. Sharing an experience like this and simultaneously respecting the other’s vulnerability was something precious to him.

Aftercare for him was a different sport entirely. And like everything he did, Zoro was determined to become the best. He sprinkled your face with ticklish kisses, replacing the tears that were there minutes ago with love.

that’s all for this one!! thank u sm for reading :D here’s my masterlist and my October posting schedule.

also for giggles - trick or treat? (both tumblr links heh)

#z's kinktober #roronoa zoro smut #zoro smut #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #op smut #one piece smut #op zoro smut #one piece zoro smut #one piece x reader

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ambrosiagoldfish · 1 year ago

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I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰

Benefit of the doubt Pt.3

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Request box: Open

Word count: 3664

A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.

Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily

It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.

After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.

You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.

The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.

Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.

“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .

His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”

He pauses

“And?” You look at him anticipatingly

“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks

“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”

Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”

You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…

“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”

“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.

You look at him confused, “Why?”

“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.

You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.

“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.

Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace

“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”

“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.

A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.

But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!

Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.

Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you

“What is it?” You look up at him.

“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone

Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.

You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.

But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.

There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.

You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.

Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.

From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.

“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?

Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged

Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”

With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.

The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air

“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him

“What the hell Sera?!”

“Alone, please.”

Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.

“Go talk with Sera,”

“But-“

“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,

“Ok?”

Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.

Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.

You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.

You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.

“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”

You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.

“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”

Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.

You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”

“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

“Y/n”

“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.

“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.

“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”

“No but-“

“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”

“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“

“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”

Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .

“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“

Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.

Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.

You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.

“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm

“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“

“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.

“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.

You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.

Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.

“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”

Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..

“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“

“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”

“But-“

“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end

Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.

Sera nods her head “Understood”

“Thank you…”

A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch

Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.

Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”

You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.

“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.

“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”

You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”

Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “

You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious

“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”

You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“

Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.

You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again

“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”

“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.

Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”

You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.

“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”

“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.

“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.

Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier

2K notes · View notes

emotionoitme · 8 months ago

Text

nectar of the gods

nectar of the gods - lana del rey

part 2 of don’t call my name

warnings: jealousy, the c word (claire), pervy carmy but that’s a given, date gone wrong (pushy man & use of some force. nothing bad happens), guard dog carmy, small argument. nasty smut: themes of brat tamer carmy, female masturbation, teasing + condescending dirty talk, fingering, squirting, biting, kissing, unprotected sex (oops), slight size kink, he doesn’t choke her but he holds her neck, slight breeding kink, ok maybe not so slight, she gets fucked kind of stupid.

wc: 9.5k

a/n: thanks so much for the love on part one! let me know what u think of this one!! <3 enjoy the nastiness

playlist

the weeks that followed the soft touches and heated kisses were, to say the least, awkward.

carmen has never been the strongest communicator, and working long hours at the bear conveniently meant they didn’t really see much of each other.

unluckily for him, she conveniently seemed to be home when he had invited claire over to talk.

in his defense, it was a late night, heat of the moment decision. one in which he was caught in a weak spot–feeling lonely and, admittedly, thinking obsessively of his roommate. a decision he deeply regretted the following day, when he had checked his messages and saw she said yes.

claire came over for morning coffee when carmy decided to go into work late. she gave him a enthusiastic greeting when he opened the door, rushing forward to hug him. it didn’t feel right, but he reciprocated.

“so good to see you, carm,” she told him, warmly.

“hey, you too,” eyes glancing over to the clock beside the door, “you’re early.”

she pulled back, smiling.

“i thought you’d be happy to have more time with me.”

he gestured her in and shut the door. he hadn’t really wanted her to come at all once he woke up, but how could she have known that?

he felt stupid.

“i, am” he replied unenthusiastically, “but my, um…. my roommate is still home.”

“you have a roommate now?” she asked.

“yeah, just for a while. want to go outside?” he questioned, eyes darting to the stairs.

“can’t we just sit at the table? it’s cold out.” claire followed his gaze to the staircase.

he paused, sighing.

“okay, yeah. let’s sit at the table.” hand running through his hair, pulling slightly. he forced himself to sit and meet her gaze, asking her how she’s been, trying to pay attention. trying to care.

a few minutes into their conversation, he heard soft footsteps approaching from behind.

“goodmorning,” his roommate called out, smiling at claire. carmen whipped his head around. she was dressed for work. she looked good.

“oh. hi,” claire returned, “you’re carmy’s roommate?” the surprise evident in her voice.

“only short term,” she replied, shooting carmen a glance, “and you are?”

“i’m claire,” she returned with a smile, “i’m his-”

“she’s my friend.” carmy interrupted, watching as claire’s eyebrows shot up at this.

“umm, we’re a little more than friends,” claire laughed, turning to his roommate, “me and carm have known eachother since we were kids. and we dated for a while, didn’t we, bear?”

he watched as his roommate widened her eyes a bit, nodding.

“how sweet. you guys are so cute together, you should date again,” sickly enthusiasm rung from her voice, “nice to meet you claire, but i’ve gotta get to work.”

“so nice meeting you! i’ll see you around.”

his roommate didn’t respond, quickly walking to the kitchen to grab a thermos of coffee then rushing out the door, letting it slam behind her.

“she’s cute,” claire complimented, “should i be worried?” her tone joking, but still locking eyes with carmen. he stayed silent, rubbing a hand over his face, then exhaling.

“listen, claire, you, uh…. you’ve gotta go. i’m sorry for inviting you.”

“what?”

he left for work as soon as she was out the door, trying to distract himself from the reminder of all the people he had hurt so early in the morning.

besides that tense interaction, he didn't see his roommate at all for about a week and a half.

that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still think about her, though. in fact, it felt like he couldn’t focus on anything else—the night of their hungry kisses and gentle touches playing like a loop in his head.

he thinks of how responsive she was, how her lips felt. how he longed to hear her beg for him.

almost two whole weeks passed, and he still wasn’t man enough to face her, making sure he was in the restaurant until late at night and out of the apartment extra early in the morning.

he scrubbed at the stovetop, remembering the smell of her skin. yearning for it. he stood at the expo and barked directions, skin prickling with the memory of her touch. the slight drag of her nails across his abdomen. how eager she was.

that morning, as the sun just began to flood through the windows, he found himself passing by her room, glancing through the open door.

he stopped himself as soon as he passed, taking a step backwards to get another look.

she lay sleeping on her side, facing away from him, one leg resting on top of the duvet. her breath was steadily rising and falling, big shirt was bunched up over her waist, allowing him the pleasure of gliding his eyes along the curve of her bare waist. he savors the moment, gaze gliding down to her hip, then falling on the little blue pair of underwear that clung to her ass.

and yes, he felt like a creep, but he still continued to stand there and watch her for a few minutes, wishing he could take a picture to remember the captivating sight.

instead he just forced himself to walk away.

it’s a long, stressful day of refires, late tickets, and continuous yelling.

carmen only gets home shy of midnight, basking in the still silence of the apartment as the door latches. he slips his coat off and hangs his keys on the hook—the key hook she put up, after the 5th time he had asked her if she had seen his keys.

hers were gone, surprisingly. he wonders where she could’ve been at midnight with a nervous uncertainty.

carmen makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing a cold glass of water before walking over to the couch to collapse.

the living room was illuminated in a soft lamp light. he loved that there would be lights on when he came home. it felt less lonely, somehow.

his eyes glance around the room, noting the addition of potted plants, some throw pillows and blankets, art, framed pictures. some of her family, some of his.

it had thrown him off, a bit, to come home one day, before the awkwardness, to see a framed picture of him and mikey standing on one of the living room’s side tables. he hardly recognized the old picture, studying it with disbelief. on that day, he picked it up and walked to his roommate’s door, knocking softly.

“come in,” she had called.

he opened the door, and found her sitting at her vanity, combing her hair. he held up the picture, pointing to it.

“shit, i’m sorry. i should’ve asked,” she started to explain.

“-no, no, i was, uh, just a little surprised,” he reassured, “where did you get this from?”

she set her comb down on the vanity and turned to face him.

“it was in a box at the back of my closet,” she told him, “lots of pictures. i promise i didn’t go through it. that one was just at the top. and i thought it was sweet. i was just thinking since i have so many up of my family, you would-”

“-no, yeah. thank you. it was really nice of you,” he admitted, “just caught me off guard.”

she gave him a sympathetic smile.

he fondly recalls the memory as he studied the decorations. never before had his home felt so much like a home.

he lets his eyes shut slowly, basking in the comfort of the plush couch. around 20 minutes pass until he hears muffled voices from outside the unit, then the sound of keys fumbling with the lock.

his stomach drops a little at the thought of having to face her, so he keeps his eyes closed, hoping he could ignore the interaction all together. as the door swings open, he hears her voice.

“okay, thanks. i’ll see you around,” tiredness evident in her tone. then, a man’s voice.

“it’s a nice place. what’s the inside like?”

carmen feels a surge of annoyance. was she bringing men over?

“it’s, uh, nice too. i have to get up early tomorrow though, so-”

“we had a nice time, right? let’s keep it going.” the man’s tone becomes pushier. carmen’s annoyance turns to anger. who did this douchebag think he was? he hears his roommate release a sardonic chuckle.

“listen, dude, get out. i’m not interested.” her tone firm and assertive. carmen sits up slightly to peek over the couch.

“god, i can’t stand women like you,” the stranger retorts, “a $200 check, and you’re not even gonna invite me in?”

carmen watches as she tries to close the door. the man puts his arm out, aggressively pushing it back open. he sits up the rest of the way, having had enough of the interaction.

“hey fuckhead,” he barks. the stranger’s eyes dart to him, clearly surprised there was another person home.

“she said get out.” his jaw is tight, eyes wide, staring the man down. “we gonna have a fuckin’ problem?”

the stranger puts his hands up in defense, taking a step back.

“hey, no problem here, man. just trying to say goodni-”

she slams the door in his face, latching the deadbolt. the girl lets out a heavy sigh before glancing over to where carmen sits.

“thanks,” she mumbles, hanging up her keys and taking her jacket off. he glances over the skin-tight long sleeve dress she was wearing.

“who was that?” he asks immediately, trying to keep the hint of possessiveness out of his voice. she leans down to slide her heels off, glancing up at him.

“a date.”

he continues to stare at her, hoping she would elaborate. instead, she ignores him, walking to the kitchen and putting the tea kettle on to boil. he stands and follows her, brow twitching.

“you, uh, going on dates now?” he questions, hands coming to his hips.

“yep,” she curtly replies, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and placing a teabag inside.

“with guys like that, huh? nice.” he scoffs. the man has trouble rationalizing why he feels so aggravated.

“fuck off, carmen,” she sharply retorts, refusing to turn toward him, “it’s none of your business.”

“it is when you bring them here” he argues.

“what, like how you brought your little girlfriend over?” she yanks open the fridge and grabs the milk.

“she is not my girlfriend” he asserts.

the girl rolls her eyes and ignores him, turning the burner off at the sound of the kettle whistling, pouring the hot water into her mug. he moves closer to her, staring at the side of her face.

“she’s not,” he emphasizes. the added pressure makes her feel compelled to respond.

“well, she’s something to you,” she argues, setting the kettle back down harder than she intended, turning to face him. she immediately wishes she hadn’t, the intensity of his eyes setting her ablaze, skin prickling. it makes her a little weak in the knees to be face to face with him again, as much as she hated to admit it.

“no, she isn’t, i- fuck…i had this weak moment after…you and i kissed, and it-,” he exhales, pausing. “i didn’t realize how much i missed…that kind of thing. so i invited her over. and immediately fuckin’ regretted it when she said yes.”

“why?” she asks softly.

“why’d i regret it?” he clarifies. she nods.

he takes a small step closer to her.

“because i don’t want that kind of thing with claire,” he confesses.

she doesn’t know what to say, instead just watches him, studying his face. she catches the split second his eyes dart down to her lips, and feels what little resolve she has begin to crumble, so she turns away from him, back to her tea, and begins to stir in some milk.

“okay,” her reply comes softly, “i get it.”

“yeah?” he presses, eyes locked on her.

“yeah,” she responds, “i know how it feels. to get…lonely like that. so truce.”

he lets out a breath of relief, threading his fingers through his hair.

silence, for a moment. he watches her bring the hot drink up to her lips and take a small sip. carmy is the one to break the silence.

“is that, uh, the reason you’re going on dates, then?” he pries.

“what, because of loneliness?” she asks, warming her hands on the mug. he gives her a small nod, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“yeah. i guess so” she responds, “with these… weirdos that don’t let me know they’re weirdos until it’s too late.” her gaze fixes on a point in front of her, unfocused. she stays like this for a moment, then breaks her trance, eyes coming to carmy’s face. his sweet and handsome face.

“i’m really glad you were here, by the way.” she adds softly.

he doesn’t know what to say for a second, shaking his head. trying to push away the anxiety that came with what could’ve happened to her, had he not been on the couch at that exact moment.

“yeah. me too.” he replies soberly. she watches his serious expression, eyes locked. the girl can’t help but break out into a grin and softly giggle. she leans back against the counter.

“it was kinda sexy, too,” she quips, “watching you get all mad like that.”

carmy can’t help the smile that breaks his solemnity.

“fuck off,” he amuses, shaking his head. she begins to laugh. he likes it a lot.

“seriously,” she presses still smiling, “it was-…i liked it.” she gave a nod of her head.

he just keeps staring at her with a soft smile on his face.

“well i don’t wanna yell at anyone else. so no more guys over.”

“oh yeah?” her tone teasing, “it’s kind of your fault that i even went on a date in the first place” she chimes, taking another sip of tea.

“my fault?” he asks, eyebrows lifting.

“yeah. i mean, i wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a…fucking tease.” she tells him, smiling against the lip of her mug

that was the last thing he expected her to say, letting out a small scoff at her bluntness.

“i’m the tease?” he asks in disbelief. if only she knew the relentless battles he fought internally from the second he first saw her. she’d been teasing him without knowing it for weeks.

“you wanted me to beg,” she reminds him, “and then, you left me. i had to fend for myself.”

he knew. he could hear her through the door.

“yeah, uh,” he fights the smile that creeps onto his face, “sorry about that.”

“that’s okay,” she replies, “cause i’m gonna give you payback.”

“payback?” he amuses, eyes creeping down her face, briefly falling to her chest and admiring the scoop neck dress she wore. okay, maybe not briefly.

she nods, stepping forward into his personal space, only inches apart. his eyes dart back up to meet hers. she keeps her gaze locked with his and slides her fingers under his white shirt, ghosting over the deep cut lines of his hips.

carmen’s breath stills as she hooks the waistband of his pants, leaning in to softly kiss his neck. she peppers sweet kisses up to his ear, then gently catches his lobe in between her teeth. her hands trail up, splaying across his stomach and feeling the firm muscle. carmen clenches his teeth as her lips begin moving along the base of his jaw.

she had barely touched him and yet that burning sensation begins to creep up his skin.

once her lips make it to his chin, she straightens and pulls him into her.

he feels his breath skip.

the girl hovers her lips over his, giving him only a light impression of touch. the front of her body is flush against his, and she can feel his hardness pressing into her.

carmy knows exactly what she’s doing, and he doesn’t feel entirely enthusiastic about being teased.

he glides his hand under her jaw, fingers carding through her hair and resting near the base of her skull. he grabs it tightly and she lets out a soft whimper, lips parting. the sound is too sweet for him to maintain his composure—he wants to taste it.

carmen pulls her into his lips impatiently, relishing the supple feeling of her mouth. their lips lock together desperately, kisses in tandem. with a last, slow kiss she pulls away with a small grin on her face. his hand still entangles with her hair, eyed fixated on her lips.

“that all you gonna give me?” he grumbles lowly.

she nods, “mmhm,” and her lip catches between her teeth.

his free hand comes to grab her side, thumb pressing into her hip bone. she arches into his touch, lids heavy, body increasingly hot. he meets her eyes.

“you’re…” he exhales, smile creeping at the edges of his lips, “you’re a little brat. y’know that?”

“you like it,” she argues softly.

she’s wrong, he thinks, he loves it.

she smooths her hand up his abdomen, fingers pressing into the firm muscle. he tenses under the rousing touch, then groans as she gently drags her nails down the length of his stomach.

she feels his bulge twitch against her pelvis.

the girl smiles at this, satisfied with her work of payback. she doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she pulls away completely.

he blinks a few times, processing the loss of heat, watching as she turns to walk out of the kitchen.

he almost follows her, too, but stops in his tracks when she calls goodnight.

fucking tease.

it was after 1am by the time the girl had showered and completed her nighttime routine, peeling back her duvet and slipping into the silky sheets.

she tried desperately to clear her mind over the past hour, having difficulty thinking of anything besides her roommate. anything besides how much she had turned herself on in the process of “payback”.

she lays flat on her back, then turns to her side. then she turns to the other side. then flat on her stomach. the girl releases a sigh of frustration. nothing was comfortable. every inch of her body felt hot. carmy’s lips felt so fucking good.

the heater is too loud. the streetlights are shining through the curtains. she wants to take him inside of her.

her hand sneaks underneath the duvet, brushing over her hardened nipples, trailing down her stomach and creeping under the waistband of her panties.

she thinks about how much she liked kissing him as she begins to drag her finger through her folds. she thinks about how he would always hold himself back. it was easy to tell—he would tighten his jaw and his eyes would get dark, giving her this look at her as if he wanted to devour her whole. she feels herself getting wet, beginning to circle around her clit, frustration at the dull ache within that seemed incurable no matter how much she tried to pleasure herself.

the girl feels so desperate laying in her bed that she decides she would take whatever carmen would give her.

even if that meant having to beg for it.

she rips her hand out of her panties and flings the duvet off of her, sharply exhaling as the cool surrounding air kisses her skin. she throws her legs over the side of the bed and stands up. maybe a cold glass of water would help.

the temperature drops as she exits her room. clad in only underwear and a cropped tank top, goosebumps begin to rise on her skin

as she makes her way down the hallway, curious eyes land on carmen’s cracked door. she stops and takes a peek inside.

the outside streetlights flood in through his window too, yet there he lay sleeping heavily, completely unbothered.

she pushes the door open a little more, just out of curiosity.

he lay on his back, shirtless, with an arm thrown over his face, chest rising and falling steadily. watching him did nothing more than worsen the desire she felt.

she inches into the room almost uncontrollably, coming to stand next to his bed.

before she gains enough sense to turn away and leave, she peels back his sheets and slides in next to him. the man shifts a bit, then settles back into his slumber.

she feels kind of creepy just watching him, but he looks so incredibly handsome in his relaxed state, his plump lips parting with soft exhales.

she feels such little control over herself, thinking of how she wants to feel him. wants to taste his skin.

fuck it.

she slowly pulls the sheets down and off of him. he’s wearing a pair of boxer briefs and she can’t help but release a breath of anticipation at the sight. she leans forward and crawls over his sleeping form, straddling him, hands coming to his chest.

she watches as his head turns and his arm falls from his face, eyes blearily blinking open.

his eyes meet hers, a stunned expression on his face.

carmen thinks he’s dreaming at first—the sight above him all too similar to the filthy dreams he had been having lately.

“uh, hey” he hesitates, voice deep and raspy, heavy with sleep.

“hi,” she whispers.

his eyes scan over her form and take in her position. her lack of clothes. she can feel him growing beneath where she sits.

the girl smiles, giggling softly.

a lazy smirk grows on his face at this, and he closes his eyes again.

“fingers not doin’ it for you anymore?”

“shut up,” she retorts, slightly embarrassed. she hates how he knows. “i just wanted to…come see if you were sleeping well,”

carmy opens his eyes again and his smirk morphs to a grin, arms folding behind his head.

“i was” he confirms, lazily blinking, “but then i got, uh, woken up.”

“sorry” she sweetly exhales, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “i, um…” her eyes rake down his handsome face, losing her lame excuse completely. she’s silent, zeroed in on his lips with an overwhelming urge to kiss him. she watches them morph to a smile.

“c’mere,” he whispers, tilting his chin up a bit. she follows his command, almost as if in a trance, leaning forward to capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

it feels blissful, almost like everything besides the two of them fades away.

soft kisses become deep and the gentleness seems to fade as soon as it starts. the pair mutually quicken the pace of the kisses. they become messier, more desperate.

the girl leans into him, hand coming to the side of his neck, the other caressing his collarbones.

carmy chases her increasingly desperate kisses, gripping her hips with both hands, cherishing the feeling of her skin.

the girl slips her tongue into his mouth and gently moans at the feeling, with which he reciprocates, indulging in the taste of her. his fingers press into her bruisingly.

she rocks her hips against him. the sensation shoots a spark through her spine, so she continues to rock back and forth, grinding against his bulge, moaning softly into his mouth.

carmen kisses her roughly, gripping her hips tighter, pulling and pushing her across the length of his cock.

her panties feel slick, core feels tight, beginning to speed up her gyrations. she can feel the head of his cock through his briefs, and quickly becomes lost in the pleasure, kissing him with a ferocity she hasn’t felt in a long time.

the sensation is incredible to carmen, becoming more pent up by the second.

she bucks her hips wildly. it feels so fucking good.

he mindlessly tightens his grip on her hips further, and her kisses quickly stop. hips stop. with a sharp inhale and a soft “ow,” her hand comes to his wrist.

he immediately releases his grip, eyes snapping open.

“shit, i’m sorry,” he hurriedly apologizes, smoothing his hands over the yet-to-appear bruises—a reminder of why he had tried to force himself to take it slowly with her. “y’okay?” he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“mhmm,” she confirms, leaning down to give him a soft kiss of reassurance. “so strong,” she murmurs into his lips. he releases the breath he was holding, hands still on her hips.

“can hardly fuckin’ control myself with you.” he admits guiltily.

“then don’t,” she replies softly, sitting upright.

carmen’s hand falls over his face, sighing. his fingers card through his messy hair, eyes scanning over the girl. a soft smile twitches at the edge of his lips.

the young woman sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves from the moment. her fingers thread under the edge of her tank top, and without saying anything, she slowly peels it over her head.

carmen groans at the reveal, and she feels a twitch underneath her. his hand comes to grab the side of her waist, thumb stroking over her stomach. he stares at her breasts in awe, trying desperately to memorize the dreamlike sight above him.

“you’re beautiful,” he marvels, hand sliding up her stomach to her ribs, “y’know that?” fingertips grazing the underside of her breast.

goosebumps rise on her skin from the light touch.

“touch me,” she tells him impatiently, pushing her chest out further as to emphasize.

the man lets out a small scoff at her tone, but gives in, cupping her breast and giving it a soft squeeze. he runs his thumb over her raised nipple, giving it a gentle pull.

she exhales harshly. it feels as if her blood had become hot, biting down on her lip to refrain from making noise.

carmy brings his hand to her other breast and repeats: a soft caress, then squeeze, then a tug of her nipple, harder this time. she bucks her hips at this, whimper muffled by the tightness of her teeth around her lip. carmen lets out a soft groan at the momentary friction.

he can feel the heat from her core over his thinly clothed erection as he touches her. the man marvels at her flushed skin, the curve of her breasts, the shape of her stomach, the expression of pleasure on her face.

she finds herself aching for the friction of a moment ago, giving another testing buck of her hips. so good.

her hands plant on his chest and she continues to slowly grind back and forth against him. the perfect angle causes her bottom lip to release from her teeth, a moan spilling out into the silence.

carmen keeps his hands pinned to his sides as he watches her closely, clamping his teeth together, clutching his fists. anything to keep himself from spinning her around and fucking her senseless.

the girl continues to grind against him, one hand planted on his chest and the other coming up to grab her breast. she’s completely blissed out, but carmen feels hungry—her teasing movements not fully satiating. he can feel her wetness begin to seep through and slick the fabric of his boxers.

“jesus, you’re fuckin’ killing me,” he strains, feeling his patience wear thin, “do something.” sounding almost like a plead.

she smiles, head falling back in pleasure, continuing to chase her high. her eyelids flutter at the pleasure, rocking back and forth.

carmy groans her name, followed by a “c’mon.”

“ask nicely” comes her taunt, followed by a breathy laugh, continuing to pleasure herself.

carmen decides he’s done playing with her. he plants his arm on the bed and sits up quickly, pushing her back against the bed, watching her eyes snap open to protest the loss of pleasure.

“quiet,” he demands, cutting her off. she shuts her mouth, a look of disappointment on her face. he dips down to nuzzle her neck and hide his forming smile, peppering gentle kisses into her skin. her smell is almost intoxicating. carmen grips her waist as he kisses her neck slowly trailing down to her collarbones. he hooks his thumb into the side of her panties and shuffles them down her thighs.

the girl breathes heavily, skin tingling in the wake of his touch.

the man dips his hand into her panties, fingers slipping between her folds, feeling her wetness.

“fuck,” he growls into her neck, “all this for me?” beginning to slowly circle her clit, the noise of her slickness like music to the man.

she stays quiet, eyelids as heavy as her breathing.

“hm? c’mon” he pushes, coming up from her neck and looking her in the eye, “tell me, pretty girl.”

the name causes her chest to flutter, allowing a soft whimper to spill from her lips. the intensity of the sensation in tandem with his eye contact makes her feel dizzy. makes her less embarrassed about showing appreciation.

“s’all for you, carm” she softly moans.

his fingers continue softly circling around the bundle of nerves, every few moments dipping into her opening to collect more wetness.

she teases down his abdomen and slips into his briefs, wrapping around his erection.

carmen softly groans, then inserts a finger, beginning to drag it in and out along her walls. she softly gasps at the feeling, and he can feel her squeeze his cock.

“more,” she demands softly, starting to stroke him.

he obeys, inserting a second finger, feeling more resistance now. she gasps.

he plants a gentle kiss on her cheek, then shuffles down to kiss at her breasts. down where she couldn’t stroke him anymore. the loss of her touch feels cold, so he fucks her with his fingers a little faster to make up for it.

as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, she can feel her juices trickling down her thighs and onto the bed, a bit embarrassed about the mess she can feel herself making on his sheets.

wet squelching sounds start to reverberate through the quiet room as carmy speeds his fingers up, softly nipping at her perked bud. the girl claps a hand over her mouth, muffling a boisterous moan.

“hand off,” he growls, sending her a warning glance. she ignores him and closes her eyes, continuing to muffle her sounds of desperation, biting into her hand.

his jaw clenches, and he pauses his movements. with his free hand he grabs her one wrist, then the other, and pins them over her head.

the girl’s eyes snap open, and she attempts to fight against his single-handed hold. she gives her best effort, but in her weakened state her struggles do nothing against the man’s strength, so she just huffs.

carmen scoffs at this, towering over her, beginning to slowly resume the movement of his fingers inside of her. he watches her face closely as he continues—studying the way her eyelids flutter, how her lips part, how her breathing picks up again, how she tries so desperately to hold onto her moans by biting into the flesh of her lips.

he draws his fingers completely out of her, then slowly reinserts them, curling upwards and beginning to rhythmically thrust them into her. she releases the hold of her lip with a loud moan, unable to stifle it at the new positioning of his fingers. he smiles, having accomplished his goal. his fingers curl further into her.

the girl begins to feel a bit of panic, an intense and unfamiliar sensation building up within her stomach. not an orgasm, but a deep, hot, wet feeling. with her arms pinned above her head, all she can do is take it.

carmen speeds up the motion, thumb coming to brush against her clit.

“fuck!” she yelps, arching into his touch. her mouth falls open, unashamed moans starting to pour out. his pace is relentless, and it feels too good to try and refrain anymore.

“yeah?” he asks, tone cool and calm, getting a sick type of pleasure from watching her unravel beneath him. he curls his fingers up further, hand becoming soaked with her arousal.

“mmh-carm, that’s-” she’s cut off by another whine, gaze flickering down to where he was rhythmically pounding his fingers into her. “ah-you…mmmh sogood,” she babbles, completely lost in his touch.

carmy feels his composure crumbling, groaning at the way she was reacting.

“c’mon, baby, let go,” he growls, palm sloppily smacking against her clit as he drives his fingers into her. her eyes roll back a bit, and with a final few curls of his fingers she does exactly what he says and lets go, giving into the sensation. the hot, wet tightness within her core bursts, flooding throughout her whole body.

“fuuckk” she hears him groan, his voice seeming distant.

her muscles convulse with orgasm, eyes tightly shut and mouth open. everything feels so wet. his fingers slow in pace, remaining deeply lodged inside her, releasing the grip of her wrists from overhead.

it seems as if the only thing she can concentrate on is trying to remember how to breathe. as she struggles to blink her eyes open, she’s met with a handsome face that stares back at her with what seems like both shock and amazement.

“whathappened?” she jumbledly breathes out.

he just groans again, dipping down to kiss the girl, big hand grabbing her face. his fingers are wet and sticky on her face. she eagerly reciprocates his kiss, hands coming to feel his chest, a pulsing in her lower stomach.

carmy plants a kiss to her cheek then sits upright again. she pushes herself up onto her forearms, attempting to reorient. her gaze comes to where he kneels, then falls on the dark spot on the sheets that surrounds them, as if something had spilled. her brows furrow as she pulls her eyes back up to carmy. his face is flushed and pupils dilated, gripping onto the backs of her thighs.

“you, uh…. god that was fucking hot,” he says with an unwavering stare.

“did i do that?” she gasps, “fuck, i’m sorry, i’ve never-” hand coming over her mouth in embarrassment, “i’ll wash your sheets. or buy you new ones.” her face turns hot and red.

he swipes his fingers over her opening, collecting her wetness, then sucks them into his mouth.

her eyes widen, watching him savor the taste of her.

“carm, say something,” she begs, still partially mortified.

“you taste good,” he replies, pulling her closer by her thighs. there’s an animalistic glint in his eyes.

“not about that,” she looks away out of embarrassment.

“m’gonna make you do it again,” he strains, pulling down the band of his boxers and allowing his erection to spring free. he works to shuffle them down his thighs.

her short-lived embarrassment dissipates completely at the sight of his cock. he’s thick, and slightly curved, throbbing with arousal, emerging from a dark bush of curls. her breath hitches, and she almost moans at the sight, instinctively spreading her legs further apart for him.

carmen grabs a pillow and lifts her legs, tucking it under her tailbone and pulling her in closely. he begins to glide his head in between her folds, collecting her slick. he nudges against her clit, and she gasps, covering her mouth.

“y’okay?” he checks, locking eyes with her. she nods her head.

“mhm, just….be gentle,” she pleads, “please,” slightly intimidated by his girth.

“i will be,” he nods, giving her a sincere look, “promise.”

she nods back, a signal to go ahead.

carmy pushes against her opening, slipping his head in slowly. they release a breathy moan in tandem.

he pushes forward until he finds resistance at less than halfway in.

“fuck,” she pants, hand flying up to grab his wrist.

“doin’ so good,” he praises, “tell me when you want me to keep going.”

the girl nods, eyes shutting tightly, trying to adjust to the imposing stretch. she releases her grip on him, trailing her fingers down her body to rub circles into her clit. she feels herself relax a bit at the pleasure as carmy’s eyes stay glued to her, watching her every move with enthusiasm. her slow circles speed up ever so slightly, letting out a gentle moan, droopy eyes coming to meet those of the man above her. it feels so good, and she clenches around him. the only thing that would make it better would be-

“kiss me,” she pleads.

he studies her swollen lips, flushed face, sweet doe eyes—he can’t help but mindlessly obey, caging her with his forearms.

the intoxicating mix of carmen’s kisses and the work of her fingers help her relax. the grip on his wrist loosens, and carmen is able to fully sink in. he pushes forward until his hips are completely flush with hers, moaning into her mouth. she matches it with a gasp.

the girl can’t believe how full she feels. It’s almost hard to breathe, nails digging into carmy’s bicep. he pulls away from the kiss, thumb coming to stroke the side of her cheek.

“doin’ okay?” he asks softly.

she has to take a moment to find her words, overcome with a dizzy head high.

“fuck, it’s s-so big,” she stammers, both hands now gripping onto his biceps for dear life.

he can’t help the surge that runs through him at her words, small smirk tugging at the edge of his lip.

“yeah?”

“mmhmmm.”

“too much f’you? want me to take it out?” he teases, knowing full well what her answer would be.

“no!” her eyes snap open “so good, carmy. want you to fuck me.”

he groans.

“give it a sec. play with ‘yrself some more. fuckin’ gripping me down there.”

her chest flutters at the sound of his voice—the low growl of it that seemed to resonate through her bones.

“please,” she begs, pressing a kiss to his lips, “want it so bad,” another kiss, “i can take it.”

he tightens his jaw, feeling his cock twitch inside of her at the desperation in her tone.

“you tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he asserts, hand grabbing her waist to steady himself, sitting up. she eagerly nods her head.

carmy begins to slowly ease out, his length dragging along her tight walls, then pushes his hips forward gently, sinking into her fully. her mouth falls open, a whiny breath spills out.

he repeats this again, this time snapping his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. her hands smooth up his biceps and wrap behind his neck, tangling in his hair. she pulls him down to her lips, and kisses him with frenzy, then peppers kisses along his cheek and jawline.

the man swears he’s miraculously died and gone straight to heaven, even though he hadn’t been to church in ages.

the way she smells, the feeling of her lips trailing along his face, the fucking vice grip her pussy wrapped around him with. it’s all like heaven.

he moves slowly, rolling his hips to softly thrust in and out of her.

the girl responds enthusiastically, bucking her hips up to accommodate him further. it feels incredible, but it’s not enough for either of them.

he wants to be gentle with the girl, try and counter the thoughts that pop in his head whenever he looks at her. he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself if he gives in.

so he forces himself to take it slow. and gentle and sweet.

but the girl keeps bucking her hips up to take more of him, frustrated that he won’t get the message.

“faster,” she whines, placing a few more kisses along his face.

he ignores her, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. his hand trails downwards, wedging it in between them to lightly rub her clit. his pace stays lazy and soft, kissing her neck.

“carmy,” she complains, fingers carding up through his hair, “give it to me.”

he just ignores her, slowing the pace of his fingers and biting her neck.

she gasps and yanks his hair.

“fuck me already,” she huffs, pout on her lips.

he growls into her neck, then pulls back, looking at her. his eyes had grown dark, eyebrows slightly twitching. a completely different expression than the soft one he wore previously.

this one was much hungrier.

he sits straight up, pulling her legs to be flush with his shoulders, then he practically bends her in half, hands pressing down on the backs of her thighs.

she flushes at the new position, feeling entirely vulnerable, but too overwhelmed with lust to do anything about it. she goes to say something, but he cuts her off by snapping his hips against hers, driving himself deeply inside of her. her mouth falls open into an o shape, taken aback by the sudden change in angle. she can feel every inch of him this way, so fucking full she can’t even seem to form a thought.

carmen eases out of her, then sinks inside again, hips slamming against hers. this time she lets out a throaty gasp, eyes droopy, completely transfixed by the sight of him above her. his chest was flushed, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. she wanted to lick it off. his messy curls bounce in time with his movements.

he pulls back again, and snaps his hips forward, releasing a deep groan.

she feels too full to make any sounds besides the needy gasps that pour plentifully from her lips.

carmy smirks down at the girl, studying her blissed out expression with a sense of pride as he continually thrusts into her. his eyes fall to watch her breasts bounce in conjunction with his thrusts, and he can’t help but grab one, squeezing, brushing his thumb over her perked nipple. she arches into his touch.

he increases his pace, hips beginning to drive into her harder.

she can feel herself slipping into a cloudy haze, the consistent slap of his hips against hers almost meditative, a red hot pleasure circulating through her whole body.

“look at me,” he orders, tweaking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

she didn’t even realize she had shut her eyes, forcing them back open to meet his gaze.

he slides his fingers down her stomach, over her pubic hair, coming to rub her clit. slick noises fill the room as his movements are eagerly met with more and more wetness.

she studies his handsome face, watches how his eyebrows scrunch, how he bites down onto his lip and flares his nostrils ever so slightly. she wants to have his babies, she thinks in her haze. in that moment she would willingly take anything he gave her.

she opens her mouth to express her gratitude, but all that comes out is a loud moan.

“yeah? y’like that?” he asks, hiking her leg further up onto his shoulder.

“mm-hmmm,” she cries in between breaths, wincing at how deep he was going, but somehow wanting even more.

“tell me, pretty girl. use those words.” he plants a kiss to the inside of her ankle and keeps thrusting into her.

“fuck,” she cries, “so good, carm. sososo good.”

his circles around her clit speed up, and the pleasure pushes her to continue, embarrassment out the window.

“love it,” she gasps, “i love it. you fuck me so good,” beginning to babble, “please don’t stop. please don’t ever stop.”

a grin breaks his face at this, and he drives into her faster, a wet slapping resounding through the room. he kisses her ankle again, then her foot.

“whatever you want,” he tells her sincerely. “fuckin’ perfect, y’know that?” another kiss on her foot, “like you were fuckin’ made for me.”

she opens her mouth, but her rationality kicks in and thinks it might be too early to ask him to put a baby in her. she opts to take a less direct approach.

“cum in me,” a breathy plead, “please,” locking eyes with him. he gives a slight shake of his head, surprised by her words. surprised by how mindlessly he wants to obey.

“fuck,” he enunciates, “you know i can’t.” the justification of why barely makes it to his mind, overcome with the flood of arousal from her words.

“i want it,” she whines. her legs slip from his shoulders and wrap around his back, pulling him in close. he releases a groan, sinking further into her, slowing his movements and beginning to punctuate his thrusts. he leans down and kisses her neck.

“i said no,” he growls, “be fuckin’ good.”

she bites his shoulder. hard enough to sting.

“ah-f’you keep acting like a brat i’m gonna fuck you like one,” he warns, hands holding her firmly in place.

she grins, then bites him again, this time on his bicep. and much harder.

carmen feels himself run out of patience, sitting up and pulling out of her. he shuffles off the bed and stands, and before she can open her mouth to complain, he yanks her up by the arm. his hand presses on her upper back and shoves her into the mattress, grabbing her hips and lifting her to arch to his liking.

the girl feels slightly humiliated by the vulnerable position, yet finds it does nothing but make the tingling heat of her body intensify.

she notices her cheek is wet—he had shoved her face first into the spot she made earlier. at this, she lets out an unenthusiastic groan.

“yeah well, i told you to fuckin’ behave,” he responds, collecting some of her slick and coating it over his cock, stroking a few times. “was tryin’ to go easy on you.” he begins to press the head into her, eliciting a breathy sigh. “but you don’t want me to, huh?” he sinks the rest of the way in. “you’ve been wanting me to give it to you rough, yeah?”

he buries himself to the hilt, and she gasps, feeling fuller than she ever thought possible.

“no,” comes her breathy protest into the mattress. he wasn’t wrong. at all. but she had too much pride to admit it, so instead she argues.

carmy scoffs.

“yeah? that why you’re fuckin’ soaking me? cause you don’t want it?”

he pulls back, dragging along her walls, then thrusts forward. the girl yelps, and takes a deep breath.

“i’m not,” comes her sharp retort, forearms coming to the bed and pushing herself up.

carmen drags his fingers up her inner thigh, collecting some of her juices that had trickled down, wordlessly holding them in front of her so she could see.

her cheeks feel hot. she doesn’t say anything, instead turns her face away from his glistening fingers. he grabs her jaw and pulls her back, pushing his coated fingers into her mouth. the girl makes a noise of disagreement, but doesn’t move away. she swirls her tongue around him, sucking his fingers clean.

he was right, she does taste sweet.

carmy drags his fingers out of her mouth slowly, catching her lip on the way down, and wraps around her neck, pressing gently. only enough to remind her who was in charge.

she willingly submits to the pleasure, arching back against him, growing impatient with his lack of movement.

she begins to ease herself forward, then rock back onto him selfishly, working to help alleviate some of the pressure that had built within her.

he lets her, for a moment, admiring the way she bounces against him, watching as she desperately tried to satiate herself.

he leans forward to plant a kiss to her cheek, fingers still wrapped around her throat, and begins to drive his hips forward to match her movements.

“yes,” she cries, hoping to god he wouldn’t stop again.

he doesn’t, continuing to rhythmically thrust into her, filling her up and stretching her out. her hand flies down to her clit and begins softly rubbing, keeping in time with the movement of his hips. she can’t help the plentiful sounds that spill from her lips—sounds of motivation for the man.

carmen, on the other hand, clenches his teeth together tightly and anchors himself by gripping her hip with his free hand, leaning over her.

he’s wanted to cum since the second he slipped into her, actively working to refrain and make it last as long as possible.

her juices begin to flow uncontrollably, completely covering his cock, sticking to his pubic hair.

everything was wet, and hot, and felt so fucking good.

the man wants to stay in this very moment for eternity, he thinks.

a particularly deep thrust makes the girl cry out voraciously, a primal cry that seemed to ignite something in him.

his hand moves from her hip to her upper arm and he pulls her upright. she leans her head against his shoulder, and he wraps a strong arm around her torso, hand coming to hold her neck once again.

the girl can barely support herself, legs trembling as carmen beings to increase the ferocity of his thrusts. the new angle situates him impossibly deeper—that familiar deep, wet feeling of heat starting to re-emerge within her stomach. his free hand trails down to her clit to help her climb higher.

carmy’s thrusts begin to cause wet squelching sounds. she completely loses herself in the sensation, mind blank with bliss, feeling tears begin to leak from her eyes.

he grabs her jaw and plants a rough kiss on her cheek. his lips become wet with her tears.

“that feel good, baby?” he hums into her skin, bucking up into her relentlessly.

“so good, carm,” she cries, gripping onto his arm for dear life, “love it. so so good.”

“fuck” he growls, shifting his hips further up into her, eliciting a yelp from the girl.

“thank you,” she mindlessly moans, “thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

he grins, grabbing her jaw tighter. another rough kiss on her cheek.

“where’d that fuckin’ attitude go, huh?” plowing forward into her, biting her neck.

she just whimpers, body falling limp against him. he effortlessly holds her up right where he wants her and continues drilling his hips forward.

“carmy, i’m- ah,” her mouth agape, “‘sgonna happen again,” she warns. he maintains his relentless pace, skin slapping against hers.

“let it go, pretty girl. i got you,” he assures, face scrunching, muscles tightening, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay long enough to pull her through.

with a primal cry of pleasure, she does exactly what he says and lets go.

it’s a flood of heat through her body, a release so satiating she thinks she‘ll be addicted for life. her vision goes spotty, ears start ringing, mind becoming numbingly empty for a moment. her fingernails leave marks along carmen’s arm from how hard she grips, using him as her last remaining tether to reality.

her breathing becomes rapid, body overstimulated with his continual thrusts. it’s almost too much, and then it’s nothing at all, feeling him pull out with a loud groan. feeling warm ropes shoot across her lower back. feeling him gently lower her down onto the wet bed. feeling her legs start to shake as the orgasm begins to subside.

a few moments go by. she feels a cold wet rag clean off her back. she feels his hand rub over her ass, feeling it be squeezed. she doesn’t move. she can’t move.

“hey.”

his voice is so distant, sounding like he’s talking through a tin can. she feels him push her onto her side. she feels him smooth her hair out of her face.

she can’t seem to open her eyes.

she can’t even seem to breathe without panting.

her entire body feels tingly.

“hey,” comes again, this time a little closer, “y’okay?”

she can’t respond. It’s like she forgot how to vocalize.

carmen gently pats the side of her face. she doesn’t respond, so he does it a little harder. her eyes blink open at the soft smacks.

her eyes meet his. they’re so blue, hazed with a slight expression of worry.

“hi,” she whispers once she’s found her words. he’s so handsome, she thinks. his cheeks are flushed. his lips are swollen.

“hi,” he softly smiles, “y’okay? was that too much?”

she shakes her head no, a blissed out grin forming on her face.

“mm. i liked it. a lot,” she tells him earnestly.

“yeah? earlier you were saying you loved it,” he teases, smoothing her hair back behind her ear. she opens her mouth to respond but shuts it, rolling her eyes.

there was that attitude again, carmen thinks to himself.

“your bed is wet,” she complains, rolling onto her back and pushing herself up onto her forearms.

“who’s fault is that?” he asks, an eyebrow lifting.

she holds onto his bicep and pulls herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. he sits next to her.

“yours,” she responds.

he scoffs.

“it is,” she huffs, head resting on his shoulder, “i’ve never done that before. it felt…crazy.”

the comment makes him feel big headed, a surge of pride and possessiveness that he’s the only one who’s ever made her feel that way. he doesn’t say it, though. just wraps his arm around the girl and kisses her head.

a quiet settles between them. the yellow of the streetlights through the window gives the room a dreamlike glow. the time on the clock shows that it’s an ungodly hour to be awake. carmen thinks of taking a personal day.

“wanna take a shower?” she asks softly, leaning up to kiss his neck, hand on his thigh.

“that-” he exhales as she nips his neck, “sounds really nice,” his own hand coming to cover hers. his were so big comparatively. another moment of quiet.

“i don’t think i can stand,” she admits, breaking the silence. he lets out a laugh.

the silky sheets wrap around entangled limbs, draping the two lovers in a soft sleepy haze.

the girl had to offer her own bed up for sleeping arrangements, given that carmen’s bed was completely soaked.

their legs intertwine, feet rub together, skin smooths against skin as they lay facing each other.

the cracked window allows an early november chill to sweep through the room. the girl gives a small shiver, and carmy pulls the blanket up over her bare shoulder, wrapping his arm around her back.

they remain in a comfortable silence, both nearly delirious in the early hour, but too giddy to fall asleep.

she studies his face in the close proximity, eyes smoothing over the small scar on his cheek, the light freckles that scatter his skin, the alluring curve of his nose.

it feels almost as intimate as their shared shower, where they had tenderly washed each other’s hair and studied each other’s nudity in the light. he had called her beautiful. she returned the compliment. he held her up in the shower on account of her shaky legs, kissing her lovingly under the stream of the hot water, fingers gripping onto her as if he was scared she’d vanish into thin air.

all that she was scared of happening had happened. she found herself completely infatuated with the man, the mere thought of him making her stomach flutter.

she tries to push it out of her mind, as she lay studying his face, that she only had a little over a month before she would leave chicago. as much as she tried to push it away, though, it came back.

she doesn’t realize she’s furrowing her brows until carmen reaches up to touch her forehead, smoothing his thumb over the scrunch.

she meets his eyes, and immediately feels a soothing sensation.

his hand slides down the side of her face and cups it, thumb rubbing over her lip.

“whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asks softly.

she stays quiet for a moment, not sure how to express herself, chewing on her lip trying to piece together her words. he gently pulls it from between her teeth, his eyes fixed on her face, studying every emotion.

she takes a deep breath.

“i really like you, carmy,” her admission comes as a whisper.

a tear escapes down her cheek, and she feels stupid because of it.

“hey,” he soothes, thumb swiping away the stray tear, “c’mere.”

he pulls her into an embrace, arms engulfing her smaller frame. he rubs her back, and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“this about california?” the man asks after a moment.

she doesn’t answer, just nuzzles her face into his neck.

“we still have some time, yeah?” he consoles, “and it won’t be forever. you can come back and visit.”

he stays positive, partially to reassure himself as well.

“okay,” she murmurs into his neck, pressing herself closer to him.

she thinks it might’ve been a mistake to have started something she can’t finish.

it might’ve been a mistake to even entertain the idea at all.

but even still, he’s so warm, smells so nice, feels so incredibly safe.

he runs his fingers through her hair and kisses her temple, holding her tightly.

it feels so good she thinks it can’t be a mistake.

right?

next part

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear imagine

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canon-gabriel-quotes · 1 year ago

Note

🤨

https://youtu.be/B2FLOKIJ5YQ?si=LG6GgSdOrAMbtZEJ

youtube

#ok what if i asked again but really nicely this time :3 #ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #ask #asks #thank you for the submission!

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misssilversunny · 3 months ago

Text

Ok wait i just had a funny idea

Why stop at just a yandere batfamily? Why not all of Gotham?

Like, imagine Bane kidnapping you, calling you his "firefly" or whatever because you're a fleeting light in the darkness or something, and you're more guarded than the actual thing he stole.

And despite that, Poison Ivy manages to nab you, her "little rose", while Bane is busy dealing with Batman. She takes you back to her apartment, where you greet the plants you recognize and introduce yourself to the new ones (There aren't many, you were here 3 months ago).

At some point you take a breath of fresh air through an open window, and Scarecrow grabs you, taking you to his lair, into a room which is also pumped with a special strain of fear gas that makes you cling to him for safety.

And then, shock of all shocks, the one and only, motherfucking Joker snatches you from the lair, leaving behind a dummy for Scarecrow to find. Unlike the others, Joker's obsession is in the fact that everyone else is obsessed with you. He finds it hysterical how one person can have all of Gotham in a spin!

Eventually, the Batfam grabs Reader from the Joker, since he's not actually obsessed so he has them the least guarded, maybe a short conversation with Batman, but even Joker knows he's in water too hot to joke about severe injuries, especially since he doesn't know if Red Hood is nearby.

Batman might not kill, but he cannot guarantee that anyone else wouldn't if he killed their favorite person, and he does not have the influence where he could get away with that.

You get returned to your nice cage room in the manor, where the Batfamily scolds you yet again for another failed escape attempt trip outside getting you shipped around Gotham for weeks!

At this point, you're pretty sure you not only can't leave, but also any attempts at a normal life are pointless. You mostly do this because humans are animals and animals need enrichment, and no, the cycle of games/quality time they're giving you are not a suitable replacement for touching grass and seeing new faces.

Even the brief moments of time between kidnappings, the short moments of normalcy that the other villains, the other heroes and vigilantes give you, are a welcome change of pace.

Bonus points if it's literally everyone in neighboring cities/Justice League, so Superman finds you and you're just like "Well shit" because now you're taken to his house, maybe his parents' farm, and you're kept there until someone catches on that Clark has you.

Also if you tack this onto Spoiled!Reader, this becomes infinitely funnier because In my mind I'm treating that AU as 90% a crack/lighthearted fic, and another thing is I think of them as being ~12 sometimes, so it's the entirety of Gotham fighting over a middle schooler.

If it's an adult Reader, it's more of a "This is fine" as they are carted from villain to villain to vigilante to hero because their family literally has a fan club for them, so their perception of what is "normal" levels of interest is severely skewed.

If you want to go for the Neglected!Reader, then it would be really interesting for them to try and figure out where is a good level of "interested in your hobbies", and doubts whether they're so uncomfortable because they're actually too invested in their day to day life, or if it's because they were neglected for so long that any interest feels overwhelming.

Btw all asks about Spoiled!Reader and this Reader are welcome!

#yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batboys #neglected reader #spoiled reader #obsession reader #That's what I'll call them #I am not tagging all of the DC villains and vigilantes

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taelophone · 3 months ago

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Where Is He? ♱ ⋆˙⟡ — Luigi Mangione x Reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ TWs: BLASPHEMY. Corruption kink . Improper use of a Rosary . Loss of Virginity . Tech Bro-ish Luigi . Dumbification . Reader is naïve . Coercion . Dark "undertones" but not really . Biblical imagery (duh) . Animal/Flower symbolism . Choking . Luigi's a liiiiitle mean . my grammarly dyed while making this so there may be spelling errors

Let's all raise a glass to @cranberrydietcoke for this wonderful idea <3

Respect was something that was taught in your house day after day.

It’s something you were expected to give to those around you: your elders, family members, strangers, anyone. The words “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” rang through your head for as long as you could remember.

Your friends always described you as expressive and generous, your kind and giving nature charmed the hearts of many. You were a sweetheart! A real angel.

The golden cross between your collarbones twinkled and glimmered under the sunlight, your white and blue sneakers scrunching and folding the crisp autumn leaves beneath you.

The sun beamed down on you, rays of warmth highlighting your skin as you made your way to pay your friend, Luigi, a visit. By now, he was probably locked up in the lab, pushing his spine to its natural limit as he folded over some laptop.

The plan was to give him some water, words of encouragement, and have a nice little chat before leaving to run some errands. And you were going to do just that!

You tugged your tote bag further up your shoulder, preventing the irritating strap from slipping further before pushing the double doors to Levine Hall open.

There was a loud clock-clock-clock as the soles of your sneakers tapped against the tile floors, the little charms and trinkets on your bag generating quiet clinking sounds as you walked.

You rounded the corner, making your way into the building's computer science and engineering part with a pep in your step. You waved at some of your passing acquaintances, offering warm smiles and good mornings to each familiar face.

“Luuu!” You called, approaching the table at the far back of the room. And there he was, strong and burly, as he whirled his head around to the familiar mellifluous hymn.

“Hey! What’s up!” He beamed, immediately scooting his chair back and tearing his focus away from the fat and boxy Dell computer in front of him.

“Hi!” You chirped, beaming brightly at Luigi, gravitating towards him immediately to give him a brief side hug. “I brought you some water and some chips!”

You pulled the two items out of your tote bag, handing them each to him gently with a soft smile.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet,” he beamed, graciously accepting your offerings and setting them down on his desk.

“How’s your day been?” He asked, cracking open his bottle of water with a small plastic crack, chugging it quickly as he crunched the water bottle in his hand.

“Well,” you began, pushing the image of his Adam’s apple bobbing as soon as he drank his water to the back of your head. “I started today with my daily bread, and then I got in the shower to try this new philosophy body wash I bought, had an abysmal breakfast, and then made my way here!”

He smiled, chuckling boyishly at your summarized morning. He nodded, typing up nonsense on his computer.

You leaned over his shoulder, your chin hovering just above his trapezius as you read over the code.

“Interesting…” you murmured, your brows pinching together with confusion.

He chuckled, shaking his head subtly. “It’s ok I barely understand this shit either,” he said.

“But it’s your job…yeah, okay,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes with the ghost of a smirk present on your features.

“That doesn’t mean I get it, though,” he joked, taking his hands off the keyboard and crossing them over his chest. His biceps flexed, the subtle pull of his veins gracing your very eyes as you straightened your posture once again.

“Whatever, man. I have errands to run,” you giggled, checking the time on your phone before tucking it back in your back pocket. “You should stop by later! Tell me more about your robot stuff. I’ve got like…ice cream and graham crackers.”

He smiled, piecing together his thought process once again as he went back to work. “Yeah, sure. I’ll come by at like five, five-thirty,” he said, punctuating his acceptance with a light nod.

You beamed, returning his words with a quiet “Great!” before saying your goodbyes and toddling off to complete the rest of your morning.

You spent the next 4 hours outside, running across Philadelphia to do ridiculous amounts of favors and errands.

Helping at the local church to prep for Sunday service, fixing around at a community soup kitchen, paperwork at city hall, and a lot of window shopping as you shredded the streets with gentle hands.

You were tired, to say the least.

After hour 2 of listening to the old pastor drawl on about his plans and wisdom of the week, your eyes stung with feather-light fatigue.

You sat on the bench, your knees pressed to your chest as you stared half-heartedly into the man’s obsidian eyes.

“Oh, my goodness!” He interrupted, getting a good look at the clock that lay tick-tick-tocking at the back of the room. “Look at the time! Thank you for helping me, young lady, but I gotta go and pick up my wife,” he said, wrapping his watch around his wrist.

You returned his smile, instantly unraveling your arms from around your knees. You went to leave, but you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and a spark of what could only be described as an electric shock fizzling in your mind.

“The lord has asked me to tell you to be careful. Take care of yourself, baby,” He pleaded, a warm and sympathetic smile spreading across his bronze face, aged with the bitter salts of time and experience.

You stood still, time leaving you at once as your heart palpitated momentarily.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

“I will. Thank you, Pastor Greene.” you nodded, ignoring the slight unease that engulfed your heart before exiting the church.

You stepped back into the warm white sunlight, the refreshing breeze rejuvenating your lungs as you took a deep breath. What was that even about?

You headed back home; quick to go pray away any negative energy and lay in your bed for the next 3 hours or so. And as soon as your feet planted on the wooden planks of your living room, you were eager to shower and face the Father once more.

You skipped to your bathroom, ridding yourself of the white turtleneck and baby-blue jeans. The shower fogged, condensation dribbling down the warmed glass.

The shower grew extremely blurred as thoughts poured down your mind, the scalding hot sin clouding your thoughts as you thought of his strong arms, the flex of his biceps, his God-given Adam’s Apple and the way it moved with his water—

You were getting sidetracked. It’s time to get out of the shower.

With a sigh, your eyes widened in shock at your own suddenly filthy mind. You tugged on your plush and grey bathrobe before scurrying away from the bathroom as quickly as you followed in.

You got your things situated on your vanity: your lotion, your bible, your skincare, and the little bread-shaped card holder that held little cards of your daily bread.

Your soft and gentle hands slathered your tacky skin in the buttery soft lotion, vanilla innocence and almond milk painting your angelic skin.

The extra sheen of sparkle the lotion gave you before putting on your pajamas, a freshly washed matching black tank top, and black sleep shorts. You tugged on the white drawstring, tying it in a tight knot and securing it around your hips.

With your pajamas on, your skin hydrated, and your mind cleared, you kneeled at your bedside. You found your rosary on the edge of your bed frame, the light wooden beads dangling the silver cross as you wrapped the sacred pearls around your fingers.

Your hands intertwined in prayer as murmurs left your sweet lips with your eyes fluttered shut.

Everywhere I walk, let it be on your path. Everything I see, let it be through your eyes. Everything I do, let it be your will. For every hardship I face, let me place it in your hands.

The incantations left your mouth like second nature, light and positive love flowing through your veins as you kept your head up high to your Savior.

When you rose from your kneeled position, the first thing you did was pull your pink-covered and annotated Bible in your lap. You plucked the rose-tinted highlighter from between the pages, scanning over the scriptures in silent wonder.

You hummed to yourself, lying flat on your stomach and slipping out of this world and into the next. Peace was growing increasingly rare in the world, and you were lucky to find it in moments like these.

That is until your phone dinged loudly.

You sighed, picking up your phone and flipping the screen to reveal Luigi’s text. He was five minutes away.

You smiled, hearting the message before placing your highlighter in between the thin pages. You popped up from your bed, throwing on your house slippers.

You toddled downstairs, making your way to the kitchen just to set out a tub of ice cream from the arctic depths of your deep freezer, hoping it softened slightly before his arrival.

You sliced up some lemon to throw in your almost iced pitcher of water from the fridge, the fogged condensation dampening your knuckles as they brushed against the body while you held the handle.

You grabbed the box of scarcely touched graham crackers, setting them next to the tub of ice cream. With everything ready, you snapped a pic of the little spread, giggling quietly to yourself before sending the pic to Luigi.

The living room was perfectly tidy, with vibrant orange flames of Macintosh Spice burning to fill the room with comfort. You stared at the portrait of Father God on the wall, meeting His eyes with humility and love before the doorbell chimed.

“Lu!” You smiled, immediately swinging open the door to reveal Luigi in his tech-bro glory. Both arms wrapped around his larger torso, pulling him in a brief, but squeeze-y hug.

“Hey,” he chuckled, stepping into your cozy and…unsurprisingly pure home. He took in his surroundings at once; the cross above the door, the picture of god on the wall, the pink and fuzzy throw blanket, and the little display case of cute Funko pops.

“Oh, that's so cool!” He gasped, gravitating towards the glassy shelf and staring at the vinyl figures. Thumper, Bambi, Stitch, Chip, Winnie the Pooh, and many more cutesy displayed figures. “You collect these?”

“Sometimes,” you nodded, crouching down next to him. I like buying the cute ones just to display,” you explained, watching him smile and giggle at the Kirby POP, snickering at how he was just a pink blob with tiny hot pink nubs.

He stood back up, gathering himself once again before sighing. “How were your errands? You said you were gonna run some today right?” He asked, crashing down on your couch with a light plop.

“I did!” You said, fetching the ice cream and graham crackers from the kitchen, and sitting them down on the beige coffee table. “I helped out Pastor Greene at the church this morning, organized some of his paperwork, helped him pick an outfit, helped decorate for Sunday’s service, helped finish some of his unfinished paperwork…I did a lot actually…”

Luigi’s brows raised slightly with an unidentifiable emotion. In a way it resembled pity, but also cocky superiority as if you were doing something…wrong?

“That’s a lot of free labor,” He joked, shooting you a sly smirk as he ate a piece of graham cracker.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You chuckled. Breathy and forced with a raise of a brow as your mind tried to pick apart what he was getting at. Sure, you had your ways and blocks, but you weren’t stupid. “Don’t you do community service too?”

“I do,” he nodded. But I don’t think anything you did besides decorating for Sunday counts as community service. Pastor Greene's service, maybe, but it seems like you just helped him avoid doing the work he’s supposed to do as the pastor.”

You paused, replaying his words over again in your mind. Your spoon dragged through the slightly softened ice cream, the cold heaven deforming from its neat and perfect scoop.

“I don’t think so…” you said, tilting your head slightly. “I think it still counts as community service. Even if he is using me for personal gain, I’d still be helping someone in need, which is fine by me,” You justified.

“That’s cute,” he smiled, the sudden patronization and smug tone caught you a little off guard. He was normally a charming and polite man…but you were more than willing to look past it. After all, he was just concerned about your well-being. It was very thoughtful of him to take this level of care.

You nodded hesitantly, the confusion evident in your brows as they furrowed slightly. “Tell me about your robot thing! How’s it coming along?” You asked, eager to shake the festering feeling of doubt that began to gnaw at the back of your neck.

Luigi sat up a little more correctly this time, actually placing his feet on the ground and leaning back against the backrest of the couch. His hips came up a little, adjusting his position on the couch. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“It’s coming along great, actually,” he said, scanning over you closely. “I’ve been so stressed but I’m finally getting my shit together. Had to lock in.”

The pair of you chuckled together, chattering about different forms of data and computer science. He spoke in such a firm and confident tone. He wasn’t loud, but he wasn’t quiet. There was a thick layer of child-like wonder in his words as he mansplained robotics.

And you clung on to every single word he had to say. It was nice to see him light up, gesture wildly with his hands, and eagerly describe what was essentially a grueling process of inspiration to intellectual burnout over and over again. But he made it seem so fun!

You nodded, leaning back and adjusting your sitting before feeling a sharp pointed thing poke into the back of your leg.

“Ouch…” You whispered, furrowing your brows and pulling your rosary out of your shorts back pocket. “Oops…I forgot I had this,” you chuckled breathily, wrapping your rosary around your wrist and hoping you didn't throw him off from talking about his interests.

“That's pretty,” He said, staring at the prayer beads with a new glint in his eye as he reached out to examine the cross that dangled from your fingers. Sleek, shiny, and smooth wood met the pads of his fingers as you let him mindlessly fidget with the pearls of the Lord. He seemed fascinated by them like they were the most foreign thing he’d ever seen.

“I’ve never been Christian,” He started, slowly untangling the beads from your hands and placing the rosary on the coffee table. “It’s kind of a creepy concept when you think about it…believing in a made-up man with no evidence but word of mouth and a man-made book that's been translated over and over again.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at his statement before waving him off.

“Science and theory are the exact same. Trusting the words of a bunch of men in coats because someone told you their ideas were right. At least with God, it’s way more simple” You said, poking at your ice cream with your spoon.

“Oh, honey…” He chuckled quietly. “Christianity is simple in a way that prevents you from living. Plus you can’t prove god is real. Science is complex because it's been proved by years of natural demonstration. You being alive to even preach the word of god is proof enough.”

Taken aback by his forward and patronizing tone, your head cocked back subtly before you gave Luigi a light chuckle. “My faith doesn’t prevent me from living…” You murmured, crossing your arms over your chest.

In his eyes, you looked like a white lily; perfect petals and dainty little buds blossoming from the soul. Like freshly plucked notes of a harp, you sat in front of him an angel on earth. He wasn’t religious, after all, religion was a vastly misinterpreted and discredited term for people to justify impressing their wrongdoing upon others. A safe haven to “turn to” when man made a mistake, seeking refuge in the all-forgiving hands of Jesus Christ.

“Come here,” he prompted, gesturing his hands toward him loosely.

You paused, raising a brow at him in silent confusion. You crawled closer to him, still staying a comfortable distance away from him to leave some space for Christ.

“See?” he pointed out, his giddy words dripping with thick condensation. “You can’t even get close to me.”

“I can,” you corrected. “But I don’t like sitting particularly close to people because it invites room for lust. It’s not good for you” you recited, almost like the words were engraved on the base of your brain.

“Proving my point” He chuckled, giving you the most cocky and smug grin you’ve ever seen him don.

You sighed, quickly weighing out the pros and cons of getting closer to Luigi. He was a nice guy, for sure, and he’d never do anything without your explicit permission. After all, God is faithful and will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.

“That wasn’t so bad, see? Be careful!” He joked, holding back boyish giggles. “God’s watching!”

You chuckled, albeit involuntarily as he not-so-subtly poked fun at your devotion.

“Alright, not too much now” you snickered, trying to ignore how your mind and soul buzzed with a sudden unidentifiable thirst. His voice was low, an aura of deep temptation emitting from him in the form of bodily heat.

His sharp and wolfish eyes met yours, the warm and endless portals of black sucked you in within an inch of your life. Falling through the rabbit hole like a dumb bunny that didn’t look while they ran.

“What's wrong?” He asked, noticing the way your lamb-like eyes widened ever so slightly. He placed a firm and heavy hand on your thigh, the skin-to-skin contact burning you alive as you fought for your sanity.

There was no way in the world he wasn’t messing with you. He had to be. You scanned his face, searching for any sign of malice or harmful intent, but all you came up with was his gorgeously sculpted features and head of wooly brown curls.

“I’m fine, yeah,” You nodded, clearing your throat as he slowly began to pull you in his lap. Slow and deliberate, like an apex sneaking up on their next feast. His hands gradually came to rest on the back of your thighs as he positioned both of your legs on top of his slowly.

“You sure? You seem tense,” he teased, his strong and firm hands now kneading the supple flesh on your legs. “It’s okay, your made-up god isn’t watching.”

He chuckled under you, staring at the framed photo of god on your wall. He indeed was watching the pair of you, their eyes interlocking for a moment.

In a sick and almost twisted way, Luigi felt like he was above a god at that exact moment. Reducing the religious memorabilia around the living room to nothing but decoration as he cooed condescending little comments in your ear.

“Poor thing…thinks her little god is more reliable than science,” he chuckled. “So naïve. So very naïve.”

His big hands caressed the underside of your thighs, his steadily rising erection pressing against the tight fabric of his cargo shorts.

You felt it directly between the concave between your thighs; angry and insistent as it twitched and hissed in an effort to communicate with your now achy and fervent womb.

They conversed in a rampant back and forth, twitches and beats of silence while you attempted to hang on to your fleeting sense of self-control. Greedy and gluttonous, you felt your lower abdomen flutter as you struggled to look Luigi in his eyes.

“See I’d help you out…but you’re Christian, remember? Fornication is off limits” he laughed, his head knocking back as he cooed at you like some sort of idiot animal.

Reduced to silence, twitching and pulsing you were sure he could feel, you whined at his unfortunately correct words.

Chaste, innocent, and virgin as Mother Mary. Your actions weren’t your own, you swear! It was the devil that allowed Luigi to coax your hips along his bulge, the thick and twitchy mound relieving a fraction of the achy tension between your legs.

“This is…really bad—“ you panted, brows pinching together in newfound euphoria. Waves of sweet, sinful pleasure washed over you. But yet the thirst persisted; parched with stinging tears of saltwater brimming in your eyes.

“Hmm?” He hummed, rocking your hips against his more intensely. “Let me know if you want me to stop…”

The envelope was on the table. All you had to do was take it. If you really wanted him to stop, a simple “No more” would have sufficed for him.

But the words never left your lips.

They died somewhere along the disconnect in your thought process compared to your morals. What did find their way to the surface, though, was high and breathy moans as you dry-humped one of your close friends.

How shameful. Blessed be the whore that gives into the temptation of the serpent, for she knows not that she is being deceived by the work of sin.

The ebb and flow of pleasure grew painful; it wasn’t enough for you as vestality chipped away from you, the cracks of pleasure generating a slick and damp feeling in the soft pink cotton fabric of your panties.

“More, please…” you croaked, squeezing your eyes shut as Luigi used your smaller frame like a toy for his own pleasure.

“Oh, you want more now?” He cooed, turning you around so your back was pressed to his chest. “But look who’s watching you, hmm?”

He pointed at the painting of Christ, his eyes unmoving as you stared at the portrait. You whined, clamping your eyes shut to help fight the feeling of shame.

Regret and remorse were only short-lived, as before you could even process your failure to uphold your morals, large and hot hands found their way down your shorts and to your drenched folds.

“It’s ok, my dear…he can watch me appreciate his creation,” he chuckled, pushing a large finger in you slowly. Much to his surprise, he found it a little more difficult than he had anticipated.

Walls of supple and sensitive flesh refused him with rapt denial, your very own body trying its hardest to deny him entry in favor of virtue. She cried, wetting him down to the knuckle in aroused melancholy as he slowly bullied his way through the previously locked temple.

You whined, the unfamiliar and slightly painful sensation blocking your path to common sense. It felt good, but it hurt, erotic fire burned at your core as your body made clockwork of adjusting to the stretch.

“There we go,” he said, slowly dragging his finger in and out of you as you began to calm down. His free hand wrapped around you, securing you in place while his middle finger worked on plucking the stamens from your flower.

“Isn’t this so much better than religious paranoia?” He cooed, gradually gaining speed as his ring finger began to press at your entrance as well. “Deep breath for me, baby.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, fighting the urge to scream as his ring finger pushed into you. It hurt like hell, but maybe that pain was the vengeance for disobeying the word of God.

“Fuckin…hurts!” You whined, leaning your head back into the crook of his neck.

“I know, I know, but you’ll get used to it…” he reassured, plunging his fingers in and out of you at a moderate face that had your cunt drooling into his palm.

You leaned back against him for some semblance of comfort, fisting the cotton of his shirt to self-soothe as the pain slowly began to fade away.

And when it did begin to fade, you were left with the most delicious fruit of pleasure you had ever bitten from in your life. Your eyes shot open with the intangible, over 20 years of unexplored sensations washed over you at once.

He borderline abused the spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars; thousands of cosmos you had never even thought about before.

He chuckled lowly the high and breathy moans that you rewarded him with, your nails digging into the sides of his wrists as he coaxed you into an intense orgasm.

“See, look at you…you love science, right? God wouldn’t allow you to have this, but man does…” he said, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you at the same brutal pace, even after you painted his fingers glossy white.

And he watched with rapt attention as you cried and whined in his lap. The way you attempted to squeeze your legs shut to get the achy and electric sensation to go away, wriggling around on his lap in an effort to escape the pleasure he was giving you.

He didn’t let you run, not even a little. Instead, he took the arm he had wrapped around your body and scooped your legs up by the back of the thigh, pressing you further against his chest.

“Don’t run from it…you need this with how I’ll do you later,” he warned, a cocky and knowing smirk forming on his face as he listened to you pant and moan.

That’s when he began to feel you clench and spasm around him for a second time, your tears matching your release as you wept with overstimulation.

“Good job, so so good…you did so good for me,” he praised, punctuated with a feather-light kiss to your forehead before he pulled his drenched and opalescent fingers out of you, coaxing your jaw open with his opposite hand and shoving them to the back of your throat.

His rough and lecherous ways paralleled your own in a sick and depraved way; what you lacked in experience and knowledge he picked up with action and skill. His tainted and analytical mind brushed off on yours, using your pure and sinless brain to better his own.

“Good girl,” he mused as you quietly gagged on his fingers before obediently sucking them clean. He used that allotted time to pull down both of your shorts, his grapefruit-pink tip angrily shooting up and knocking against your cunt.

You jumped, your eyes widening as you moved your head to look down, blinking away any tears that fogged your vision.

He was huge. So huge you weren’t even sure how that was supposed to fit inside of you without something or someone breaking.

“Don’t panic,” he mumbled, pulling his fingers out your mouth with an almost grotesque pop. “We’ll make it fit.”

“C’mon, I’m makin’ you watch,” He stated, grabbing the back of your neck and pushing it down slightly so you had no other choice but to watch as the shiny beads of precum fizzled from his slit and rubbed against your cunt.

The sight was dizzying in itself. He swiped himself against you, two—three…four times before he grabbed himself at the base.

“Deep breath for me, hmm?” He said, lining himself up with you while pressing his other hand over your mouth. He pushed in slowly, after all, he wasn’t a psycho.

You watched as he slowly speared you open, slowly separating you from your vestal and celibate body as he speared you open. You cried out in alarm, a sound that was swallowed by his large palm over your mouth.

“You’re okay, relax, baby, relax..” he whispered, coaxing you down further along his agonizingly long cock. He removed his hand from over your mouth, a quiet string of profanities leaving his lips as you clenched down on him.

“Relax,” he stated, a little bit more firmly. “We’re not gonna get anywhere if you won’t let me in…”

You nodded, trying your best to ease up in his lap. Luigi took that as a sign to push in at once, earning a yelp from you in the process as you began to pant heavily.

“Luigi!” You scolded, pinching his leg disapprovingly as tears stung your waterline again.

“Better to rip the bandaid off than prolong the pain” he chuckled, resting his hands on your hips to rub gentle circles on your skin.

He let enough time go by until your chest stopped staggering up and down, letting you slowly ease in his arms again before he began to piston his hips up into you slowly.

You were so gone, convulsing and moaning on him like it was the last thing you’d ever do. He took a hand back off your hips and placed it over your neck again, driving your gaze towards the sinful display as he bucked into you like an angry goat.

“Poor thing…so sensitive…” He mocked, grinning at your fucked out expression as he buried himself in your ribs. “You feel alright?”

It was too much to attempt to talk. Your eyes had clamped shut somewhere in the process, giving him frantic and tired nods as he leaned forward presumably to cage you against him further.

But that’s when your senses picked up a familiar sound.

Your rosary.

“Start praying,” he commanded, fidgeting with the beads absentmindedly.

You gasped, trying to make out any sentence you could as he brutally abused your weeping cunt.

“Start praying or I’ll stop,” He said, slowing his hips down and causing you to chant out tiny whines of “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“God is…God is our—! Oh dear..” you began, mind fogging up as you tried to squeeze out Psalm 46. “God is our refuge…and strength…”

“An ever-present help—Ah! In trouble…Therefore we will not fear—!”

He wrapped the wooden beads of prayer around your throat, the words of the lord dying in your larynx as he tugged your head back with the fever of a madman.

He was all around you; watching your every move as if surveying you from above. How ironic, the sight. The petals of your lively and gentle buds being plucked piece by piece by the hands of science.

In this sinful and dishonorable scene before him, there was no sight of a god. Only man and need as you cried and moaned around his fingers. And just like a serpent of science, testing your faith with temptation, he sunk his teeth into the side of your neck.

When you began to clench and flutter around him again, he panted, animalistic and heavy groans of his own rushing forward as he, too, began to come undone.

“Tight—! Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” He whined, listening to your loud and feminine moans as your holy-white release covered him from tip to base.

And with a few more rough and bruising thrusts straight to your cervix, he pulled out just in time to paint your stomach poltergeist-white.

You panted, whining loudly as he pulled your trembling form off of him and tossed your rosary somewhere on the couch.

“C’mon…let’s go shower”

#luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x you #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi Mangione my beloved #FREE MY BABY DADDY #mean luigi supremacy

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yanderefarm · 5 months ago

Text

yandere pornstar

cw; choking, p in v, heterosexuals, nsft, murder, violence against women, dub con, dark content

ive had this one sitting in production for a minute but it's one of the darker ones in my opinion. i think he's so interesting and so fucked in the head. his yandere isn't as explicit in this but that's kinda on purpose. he's obsessed with you but he's good at hiding it especially because he's definitely also battling some internalized homophobia. like he will not examine how badly he wants to be your girlfriend no sir he'll just ask you uncomfortable questions and date women who he thinks are your type. and even then it doesn't matter if you don't like women because he'll just date women who remind him of you.

you live in a nice modern style house. the kind of house you'd usually find belonging to a billionaire who thinks having natural light is a personality trait. never in a million years would you be able to afford this place but a few months ago you'd found this guy looking for a roommate. the rent was dirt cheap, like the kind of dirt cheap that meant this was probably a scam. honestly, even after 3 months living there you were waiting for the rug to get pulled out from under you but as far as you could tell it was real and your roommate was just a nice guy.

he was a large guy, his chest was broad and he was extremely tall. he was pretty hot too, he had piercings and tattoos and he was always wearing tight obscure rock shirts or horror shirts. personality wise he was a bit of a loud obnoxious guy, he could act like a real frat bro but he was nice? nice enough. the only real quirk about being his roommate was the part about sex. apparently your roommate was in porn and would often record videos in his house. it was like living with a frat bro in effect, he'd have big networking parties and sometimes that turned into big networking orgies. sometimes you would come home to see him and a young woman half naked surrounded by a camera crew. it was weird. but rent was cheap and your room had good noise insulation so you adapted.

sometimes you would wake up in the morning and go to the kitchen only to find a random woman with messy makeup sitting there checking her phone. the first time it happened you offered to make her some pancakes and she appreciated the gesture. it was an odd morning routine but it was kind of nice making pancakes for your roommate and whatever girl he'd spent the night with so it became the norm. all in all living in this place was odd but comfortable, all it took was getting used to it. you even got used to your roommate's weird personal questions, the way he'd ask you about what kind of porn you liked or what kind of people you were into. it was awkward but you got used to it as just part of his personality.

eventually you started noticing the same girl at the kitchen table over and over again only with progressively more bruises and cuts on her. it's not really your place but you can't help but ask her if she's ok.

"oh! yeah don't worry it's from work."

"what kind of work do you do?"

"wanna see?"

she shows you her only fans account including her most recent post, a scene where she's in a familiar looking room with a masked man choking her out while they have sex. that's definitely your roommate in the video, it was definitely filmed in his room. your body couldn't help but react to the stimulation and you awkwardly excused yourself to eat breakfast. she didn't mind, in fact she said it was a compliment so atleast she was cool about it. still embarrassing.

it doesn't help that at some point she clearly told your roommate who's embarrassing personal questions start to shift. are you into choking? receiving or giving? do you think his girlfriend is hot? is she your type? you have to stop him from showing you more of their videos together because he's just way too eager.

in the end you do shamefully subscribe to her only fans. she's pretty for sure but you're more interested in your roommate and the scenarios they act out. she makes a lot of dark content; things like a kidnapper using her for his own entertainment and threatening to send the video to her parents, or a drunk friend breaking into her room, or a serial killer having fun with her before he kills her. in her older stuff before she started working with your roommate the guys who would bust into her room didn't have the right body type or demeanor to sell it. some of them acted like the cringiest internet doms. for some reason your roommate was so good at it.

you watched his arm flex around her throat while he held her in a headlock, her body bouncing on his lap while he looked at the camera. part of you wondered how good he'd look if he was in her position instead, his big muscles and large dick completely useless as his kidnapper made his eyes roll back. you really shouldn't have those thoughts about your roommate, you know that, but you can't stop fucking your fist to the thought of him. he's straight, nothing will ever come of it.

for the sake of your cheap rent and comfortable room you just pushed your feelings down only letting them out late at night into a bunch of tissues. that's until you come home one night to the living room dark and a tripod set up in front of the couch. that's not such an unusual sight, its not even the first time you've walked in on your roommate in the middle of work. it is the first time you've caught him actually balls deep in someone. he doesn't even take his hands off his throat when he looks at you with a stupid smile.

"hey, welcome home."

you were trying so hard to look anywhere else. "sorry.. uh im-im gonna-"

"oh! hey, babes!" his girlfriend was also smiling at you now.

you were hard. why were you hard. why did he notice that you were hard. you watched his eyes flick from your hard on to your face and back again a wide smile cracking across his face.

"yo, you like what you see? wanna take a ride?"

you don't know how they both actually convinced you to do this, maybe you were hornier than you realized. your roommates large rough hands were stroking your heavy cock while his girlfriend was on her knees in front of you her tongue stuck out to catch every drop of precum. you leaned your head back against his shoulder and moaned as he squeezed your tip. you looked at him for a moment, your face flushing red as he gave you a confident smirk. his girlfriend wrapped her lips around your tip and began licking and sucking trying to drain you of every drop while your roommates hands squeezed your cock so firmly it felt like he was trying to push your cum out. you moaned louder this time, one of your hands gripping onto his forearms to steady yourself.

"baby, you should give him a nice reward for all his donations."

oh god he knew. of course he knew. his girlfriend pulled her mouth off your cock with a wet pop and moved onto her back. your roommate guided you onto your knees in front of her, his breath heavy in your ears.

"you ever do this before buddy?"

all you could do was shake your head, most people probably have never been in this scenario before either.

"gonna make you feel so good. gonna fuck her real nice."

he guided your large cock along her folds, rubbing it against her clit and soaking you in her juices. you watched as he pressed your tip against her hole and pushed it in drawing a loud moan from her. she was definitely a pornstar the way she reacted and played up your cock filling her, moans and arching her back and tightening her cunt. it felt good but you soon came to miss the feeling of your roommate's hands squeezing you as they instead moved to help guide your hips. he kept you at a fast pace until you were the one maintaining it yourself, hips drilling into her as hard and fast as you could.

"why haven't you cum yet? you like it don't you?" he grunted in annoyance. "here let's tighten her up, huh?"

he moved his hands over your own and wrapped them around her neck. it took you a moment to notice and you immediately tried to squirm and pull away.

"you know how much she likes it"

"mmmhmmm~ c'mon babes.. make me see stars..."

his hands squeezed around your own forcing you to choke her as your hips began to slow down a bit. you didn't know what you were doing, this seemed incredibly unsafe but his hands were stronger than yours. her pussy squeezed around you but the stimulation wasn't enough to keep you hard as your panic was more overwhelming. your hips stopped entirely when her face started to get red.

"stop! pl-please i want to stop!"

"i'll stop when she makes you cum."

you knew that wasn't going to happen but you didn't know what else to do. your hips picked up a frantic desperate pace as you tried so hard to feel good. there were tears splashing onto her reddening face as you began to cry and babble your apologies as best you could.

her eyes started to roll back and you still hadn't gotten any closer to cumming so with an annoyed huff your roommate pulled your hands off of her. she sucked in a gasp of air her entire body heaving as she could finally breathed. your roommate moved away from you letting you pull out and you crawled over away from them, sobbing.

"tch... guess you didn't like her that much huh?"

you couldn't speak just whimpering and rubbing your hands.

"poor guy..."

he easily lifted you in his arms and carried you to your bed. you thought he said something else but you didn't catch it as your body started to relax. you managed a small thank you before his figure disappeared.

you expected it to just be a weird story and an awkward breakfast but she never came to sit in the kitchen. you had finished making all the pancakes when the front door opened and your roommate walked in looking dour. he stopped when he looked at you, looking away from you then back.

he took a deep breath. "... she's dead."

your eyes widened and you felt your stomach churn.

"last night i brought her back to my room but she wasn't feeling well and i thought she was just tired... when i woke up she wasn't breathing."

you covered your mouth with your hand as tears flooded your vision. you moved to get your phone when your roommate grabbed your hand tight enough to hurt.

"you get it right? you killed her." you were forced to drop your phone which cracked on the tile. "i hid the body, made sure no one will ever know. I'm willing to help you cause you're my friend but you gotta be good."

you couldn't speak all you could do was slowly nod.

"thats a good boy."

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #sub yandere #yandere x male reader #yandere ideas #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere drabble #yandere mlm

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neeeooon · 12 days ago

Note

Hii (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I absolutely loved the part 2 of the when they found out they had a kid, and I was wondering, is it possible for you to make a one shot, perhaps a continuation/2nd part for Reo? Like if he tells his current wife about it or not. And what the child feels about him. It's ok if you don't want to I'm just thirsty for Reo content lol. Thank you very much!

YESSS i was so happy to see this req lmao i didn’t think u guys would like those posts SO THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!! <3

the past becomes the present

ex-husband/baby-daddy reo! & fem!reader. continuation of reo’s part in this post. reo has a wife and kids. most characters have names

“did you know who i was at the doctor’s office?” reo’s wife, kaori, asked in a trembling voice. she knew her husband was married before, but it was brief and left him heartbroken.

you sank further into your chair under her scrutinizing gaze. there was no doubt in your mind that she was better suited for this life than you. “i didn’t. i knew reo got married again, but i always avoided those photos and articles… i didn’t know until i saw his number on your card.”

when reo hit you with the “i want partial custody,” you’d panicked, thinking he’d use his big, fancy lawyers to force you to submit. though you’d taken the bribe from his parents all those years ago, you put most of it into a sealed account for your son to open when he became an adult. there was only enough for living expenses and things that would give your son a comfortable life, not to blow on expensive lawyers.

“y/n,” reo’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked up to see something sparkling in his violet eyes. grief? hurt? disgust? you didn’t know, but all three were warranted. “i’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me about this back then.”

both kaori and you sat up straight in your chairs. “huh?”

“when my parents offered you that deal, when you ran, i should have looked for you to see why you left. all i did was listen to their lies. i had no idea you were pregnant…” he shot a brief look at his wife before reaching over and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “i wouldn’t change anything, though. i have a new life. i’m happy. but now i know i have a son, and i want us to be a part of his life, too.”

you thought back to the three children playing with your son in the waiting room—reo’s daughters—and felt your throat begin to itch. ducking your head, you focused hard on the little string bracelet your son made for you. “i want that, too.” looking up, you felt warm tears dripping down your cheeks as you stared at your ex-husband and his beautiful wife. “but i don’t want to be replaced. i know sota would be happy with your family, but he’s my son, too. he’s all i have, and i know that you could take him without so much as lifting a finger, but please, don’t take him away from me.”

the raw desperation in your voice sent shivers down both mikage’s spines. kaori looked at her husband, then back at you. “y/n…” she sounded softer this time, like you were one of her daughters in need of comfort. “i would never take your son away from you. he’ll have a place here if he wants it, but you are his mother. you’ll always be his mother.”

you were sobbing into your hands by this point, and kaori gave reo’s hand one last squeeze before getting up from her chair and hurrying around the table to hug your shoulders. “why don’t we have that play date now, hm? my girls and your sota. it will be nice for him to get to know his dad a bit, don’t you think?” you held on tight to your ex’s new wife as you managed a small, yes, through your tears.

☆ 🧸

“wow! you’re really good!” your son, sota, exclaimed, eyes sparking, as he watched reo shoot a goal. the mikage’s had an entire floor of their penthouse dedicated to soccer, and since your son was a fan of the sport, reo offered to teach him some moves.

grinning at the praise, reo plucked the ball from the goal and lightly passed it to his son. “why don’t you try?” they continued playing together, your son’s ecstatic laugh reverberating around the room until the sun had dipped past the horizon. reo asked your son if he wanted to stay for dinner, but sota gave you a look that said “bedtime,” so you promised your ex-husband you’d both be back for lunch.

on the drive home, sora dozing off in the backseat, you quietly asked, “did you have fun today? with the girls?”

he hummed sleepily, and you saw him nodding in your rearview mirror. “they’re nice… mommy?”

“yes, baby?” he hesitated for only a moment, but it was long enough to send your fingers tightening around the wheel. “is mr. mikage my dad?”

during the meeting, kaori and reo mentioned wanting to wait until sota was more familiar with them before breaking the news. even you didn’t think your son would catch on so quick. clearing your throat, you forced a chirpy voice as you asked, “what makes you say that, sweetheart?”

sota’s silence made you anxious. then he sighed. “mrs. takeda at school says i have a handsome smile. mr. mikage has it, too.”

for real? he figured it out over a smile? you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. instead, you hummed lightly, trying to remain calm for him. “if he was, how would that make you feel?”

“awesome! mr. mikage is so cool! and ms. kaori and kumi and the twins, too! but they’re not as cool as you, mommy.” he exclaimed, and you could hear him wiggling around in his car seat.

he fell asleep before you got home, giving you enough silence to contemplate how this was your life. you carefully carried and tucked him into bed when you got home and immediately called reo’s new wife.

“is everything okay?” she asked immediately, to which you replied with a shaky sigh. “he knows. i didn’t confirm, but he knows.” it was her turn to release a slow breath. “and his thoughts?”

“he seems happy. he thinks very highly of your family.” you managed a laugh before pausing. “do we tell reo? i know he wanted to have a sit-down with sota soon…”

kaori hummed on the other line. “you didn’t confirm, right? i’ll tell him that sota suspects so he can change up whatever speech he’s planning.” you both laughed then, and you felt strangely… lighter. like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“thank you,” you began slowly. “for everything. i don’t… i don’t deserve any of your kindness.”

“you were young and scared, y/n. what reo’s parents did was wrong, but i would never subject an innocent child to such cruelty. and you’re his mother, someone reo once loved, which means you deserve the benefit of the doubt. plus, i need a mom-friend!” your eyes stung once again, but you forced yourself to remain calm as you thanked kaori and wished her goodnight. part of you would always love reo, but you were so eternally grateful that he found happiness with someone as precious as his new wife.

☆ 🧸

you debated whether or not to give reo and sota privacy for when reo officially broke the news, but your son’s firm grip on your shirt was enough for you to stay. the three of you sat on the ground of reo’s office, your legs tight to your chest as you carefully watched your son’s expressions.

“hi, sota,” reo began with a smile. sota looked between the two of you, and you could tell he was growing scared. scooting closer, you wrapped an arm around his small shoulders and pulled him into your side. “you don’t have to be nervous, baby. we just walk to talk to you about something, that’s all.”

“am i in trouble? are you mad that i said i want you to be my dad?” his bottom lip trembled, wobbling worse when reo’s eyes widened. the man’s mouth opened and closed several times before he finally said, “y-you want that?”

you hugged your son when you felt his breathing speed up. “you’re not in trouble, baby! i promise.”

“he looks mad…”

“i’m not mad,” reo managed in the softest voice he could muster. you knew him well enough to know he was fighting back tears. “i just… i know you only met me recently, but i want to be your dad, too.”

your son’s face lit up. “really?!”

“really.”

“and kumi and the twins can be my sisters?!”

reo was chuckling now. “yes, they’re your sisters.”

“but,” sota paused now to look up at you. “ms. kaori is nice, but i want mommy to be my mommy.” you sucked in a shaky breath and squeezed sota into your side. “oh, baby. don’t worry about that; i’m not going anywhere.”

sota asked to play with his new little sister’s after that, and you watched the four kids run circles around a laughing kaori as she baked cookies for them. “he’s a good kid, y/n.” reo said at your side, and you rubbed your arm with a smile. “you did well.” he didn’t hug you, but you felt engulfed by his words.

blinking back tears, you turned and gave him a small nod. “thank you, reo.”

this is so long but it was SO fun!! reo and reader don't end up together, but i wasn't going to break his family up ❤️‍🩹

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viennakarma · 1 year ago

Text

Everything I Wanted III.

LESTAPPEN x READER (PART 3/FINALE)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 10k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, open ending, HEA, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are also a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is a tiny bit angsty. Maybe I should've mentioned it before, but both Max and Charles are single in this story. I'm sorry if it feels rushed or if it has any mistakes, I just let my heart go with the flow!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You spend a few days in some happy daze, just shamelessly bashing in your Championship. Everyone knew because you were positively giddy during the last race week in Abu Dhabi, you were seen smiling more during that one week than you had been seen smiling in your three years of Formula 1.

Some of the drivers were even more amicable towards you and your closest friends were even teasing you all the time, calling you Champion so they could see you blush and giggle.

“Hey there, Champ,” Lewis would greet you.

“Buenos días, campeona,” Fernando would say and laugh at your reaction.

Lando even joked to some reporter that you were in love with the championship.

There was a dinner organized by the drivers to say farewell to Sebastian. Despite knowing most drivers confirmed their presence there, you planned to go and leave early because you always felt left out whenever most drivers got together.

That’s why you texted Lewis to ask what he was wearing that night, and you ended up wearing high waisted suede pants, and a white T-shirt, finishing with a classic black scarpin in your feet and a purse.

Since you and Nando were in the same hotel, you decided to go together with his driver. Only when you got to the car, Charles was also inside the car, and you had to sit quietly by his side, his thigh brushing yours. Nando was in the passenger seat, and you started small talk with him to diffuse the tension he was unaware was happening in the backseat. You were engaged in conversation with Nando when you felt Charles fingers touching your knee. Jolting, you immediately slapped his hand away.

“You ok there?” Nando asked from the front of the car.

“Uh, yes! Just an- annoying mosquito!” You said, faking a smile.

Charles pouted, crossing his arms and pointedly looking to the window of his side.

As the three of you arrived there, half of the grid was already there, seated and chatting. Lewis welcomed you first, warning that he purposefully invited Sebastian to arrive thirty minutes later, so he was the last to arrive. As you sat beside Nando, you noticed how Charles sat beside you again, facing Pierre across the table, and you ended up facing Max. Your eyes met, but you looked away, deciding to focus on conversation with Nando and Lando, who was in front of him.

When Seb arrived, he was welcomed with a round of applause, which made his cheeks redden a little as he laughed. The dinner went well, and you shared red wine with a few of the others, some of them preferred other drinks. It was nice chatting with everyone, and it was the first time you really felt part of the group, everyone together laughing and eating.

“Y/N, who’s your idol from this table?” Carlos asked with a smirk.

“You wanna put me in trouble,” you eyed around. Everyone knew that the people you were closest with, Lewis, Seb and Nando were your racing idols.

“Come on, your favorite, Lewis, Seb or Fernando?” Lando joined in, and the others joined too, egging you on.

“Kimi is my favorite,” you muttered before taking a sip of your wine. Everyone started shouting and calling you a liar, “fine, fine, it doesn’t mean I’m not a big fan of the other two, but growing up, I’ve always wanted to race like Fernando.”

“And now you do,” Fernando said, raising his glass in a toast, which honestly made you blush. Everyone started making fun of you because you were shy and giggly.

You ended up staying until the end, when everyone had to leave to get a good night of sleep for the free practices the next day.

Race day there was a small ceremony to say goodbye to Sebastian, and it was the only part of the week that made you a little sad, even though part of you were really happy knowing he would get to spend time with his family and dedicate himself to his projects of sustainability. When the drivers made a little corridor to applaud him, Sebastian hugged you and you felt a little teary eyed.

The race was great, and you put some effort into winning that one, because you wanted to finish the season with a bang. And a bang it was, holding the P1 trophy again, kissing it and then raising it high as homage to mom.

After the season ended officially, you went straight to Woking to visit the factory and thank everyone personally for making you a car fast enough to make you the champion. Then you had a few media commitments, had to go over some marketing and legal meetings about brands deals and whatnot interested in your image.

Finally, by the beginning of December, you went back to Monaco and slept in for a few days, relaxing body and mind.

When Lando found out you were living in Monaco, he invited you to a padel match, and despite not knowing the game very well, you never said no to any form of competitive sport that could take your mind off things.

“I’ll let you know, I’m a fast learner, Landito.” You pointed when he gave you a padel racket.

“Come on, you have 20 minutes to learn the basics before our competition is here,” he said.

“Oh, we’ll be playing as duos?” You smiled, letting him lead you to the court.

Lando taught you the basics for a while, and you were getting the hang of it when you heard voices behind you. You stopped short as you noticed your competition were Charles and Max, and as they saw you, they too seemed surprised.

“Hello,” you greeted them with a nod.

Luckily Lando didn’t waste any time with pleasantries and went straight to the game. Which was great, since that was a language you could speak. You soon noticed Charles and Max had a bit more experience than you, so you had to up your game a bit, using strategy to outsmart them.

You and Lando won three games and Charles and Max won four.

As you finished, you went to the net and shook their hands. Max stared at you intensely, but you ignored him and went grab your bag.

“You’re leaving?” Lando asked, “we were going to grab a snack after.”

“Oh, um, yeah- I gotta go, I still have a lot to do around the apartment and I’m waiting for some furniture to arrive,” you gave an excuse.

“You’re living in Monaco?” Charles asked, visibly surprised at the info.

“Yeah. So, bye. Thanks for the game.” You started walking away, but Lando jogged to catch up to you.

“Hey, uh- text me when you’re free this weekend. I wanted to talk to you privately about… McLaren” he whispered your team’s name and you raised an eyebrow, you had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but you nodded.

Lando ended up coming over to your apartment Saturday afternoon, he helped you paint your living room walls a soft green, and after you finished, you were eating a few snacks when he finally said what he wanted to talk about.

“So, I know that legally we shouldn’t be talking about it, but- for how long is your new contract with McLaren?” He breached the subject. You paused.

“What? You know my contract ends by the end of next season.”

“Yeah but- the new one-”

He silenced himself abruptly, probably realizing you didn’t get a new one. You pressed your lips in a thin line. You had a contract similar to Lando’s, that would end by the end of next year. But now- now Lando had been offered a renovation, and you weren’t.

“They offered you an extension already?” You asked, shocked.

“No- I mean- It’s just-” Lando realized by your face that he had fucked up.

“Lando.”

“Yes, from 2024 on, with possible extensions,” He said, apologetically.

“Oh” you whispered.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure they are just taking their time putting your contract together since you’re, you know, the world champion,” Lando startled rambling, until his phone started ringing, “I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’m streaming tonight and I need to set up. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sure they’ll offer your renewal soon.”

You bid him goodbye, still processing his words. You tried to be reasonable and not be upset, but the prospect of not receiving a proposal being the world champion didn’t sit right with you. You meditated, thinking to not let that get to you, but a few days before the FIA Gala, you received a proposal from Mercedes, and another from Aston Martin. Both were great, great contracts. They offered a lot of money, security and great publicity.

The night of the Gala, you went all out. Amanda helped you hire a glam team, so you had make up, hair and stylists helping you dress. You wore a silver dress, long with a high slit on the leg, black heels, and your hair was short now, shoulder length and dyed black. You wanted a femme fatale look, and that’s what you got.

Unfortunately, Kimi and Minttu couldn’t go with you, and you didn’t bother to find a date, opting to go by yourself. When you arrived at the ceremony, all eyes were on you. You posed a little by the red carpet and answered a few questions about the championship.

During the ceremony you sat with Lewis, chatting up until the main awards were called. You watched as Charles went up the stage for the third place trophy, he was handsome wearing some designer suit and tie, and glasses that made him even more attractive. He said a couple of words, before making his way down. Then was Max, wearing a gorgeous tux, perfectly tailored to his shoulders and waist. While he was talking, you fixed the bust of your dress and waited for your name to be called alongside the words world champion.

When you got to the stairs, Max was down there, and he offered you a gentlemanly arm to help you up, you hesitated for a brief second but then accepted, letting him guide you up the steps.

Your eyes were on the beautiful trophy. The smile on your face was big, almost giddy, as you went on the stage. You kissed your trophy, leaving a red lipstick stain on the side of it, and you stopped by the mic. After a brief second to recollect your thoughts, you sighed.

“Wow! It’s such an honor to receive this as a token of my hard work and all my years facing pushback for this dream,” you smiled down at the trophy, “I’ll try and keep it brief. I know I have already said some of this, but I’d like to thank my team, not only for making this amazing car that became part of me during this season, but also for giving me a chance three years ago. Thanks to Jace and Amanda, who were such great help this year. I’d like to thank Kimi for seeing me when I was on the brink of giving up and when no scouts looked in my direction, and Minttu for taking me in as one of her own,” you put a hand on your chest, above your heart as your voice choked a little, heavy with emotion, “Thank you, Sebastian and Fernando for accepting my friendship when everyone else turned their backs on me,” you found them both around the crowd, Nando sending you a wink, and Sebastian smiling wildly, “and last but not least, I’d like to thank my mum for working hard to put a roof over my head and food on the table while I was out there hustling for my dream.”

Everyone clapped and you waited for the applause to die down. You could end your speech there, but you wouldn’t be the Lioness if you did.

“Oh, and for those who said I wasn’t gonna go far… You can suck my-” you interrupted yourself, showing your tongue cheekily, making almost everyone in the room laugh.

That night you drank, danced and sang like never before. You woke up hungover and a little blacked out, not remembering the whole night, only some glimpses of it.

You stayed the Holidays with Kimi and his family, and despite being invited by Lando to a big New Year’s Eve party, you opted for a chill celebration. You still found time to send Sebastian and his family some Christmas presents and you managed to go karting with Fernando on his track in Asturias.

After meeting with Fernando, you went on a solo trip around Spain, visiting cities and learning a little bit about history while practicing your spanish. You also tried a few hobbies, out of curiosity. You tried playing tennis, skydiving and surfing.

Soon, you were back in Monaco to resume your training for next season and traveling to Woking to see your new car. You also sat with Amanda and your lawyer, and accepted a few brand deals, one for makeup and another for a big fashion brand. You were genuinely happy with both, you always wanted to get into fashion but never had the time or knack for it, but now with your deal, they would link you to a stylist and give you outfit options.

You entered the new season fresh, feeling good not only about your talent as a racing driver, but about your looks and new style, feeling that your championship could finally back you up.

Only if the media got the memo.

“Y/N do you believe when people attribute your championship win to Verstappen’s mistake?”

You felt fire in your throat, anger bubbling up.

“No, I believe I won the championship because I drove well the whole season. I attribute my championship to myself, my talent and my hard work,” your tone was harsh, and you didn’t even bother to sound pleasant, “I wonder if this was asked to every other Formula 1 champion of the world or just me?”

You huffed, putting your mic down, and you saw Fernando leaning towards you to whisper, “it’s good to have the Lioness back.”

It was different seeing Nando wearing green now and Sebastian’s absence was noticed from day one. He had sent you a text wishing good luck in the season.

There was also a weird shift that you noticed soon, right in the first few races. The rivalry between Max and Charles had been placated a little. They were still rivals on the track, but out of it, they were seen chatting and discussing, all in good spirits and friendly. Whatever rift had caused the tension all these years was apparently mended. So now, they were only your rivals, together against the greater evil. You.

Without a win in the first three races that season, you were sure something was wrong. Could it be your car, but it could also be you.

You came out of debriefing feeling a stress induced headache starting. You walked around the paddock aimlessly, just trying to clear your head and not face any photographer or reporter. That’s why you were around the moving boxes and trucks, trying to find a secluded spot to breathe and meditate.

Unfortunately, you ended up facing two people pressed against a wall. Frowning, you tried to understand what was going on, when you realized it was Max and Charles. Their sides were pressed on each other, but what caught your attention was that they were holding hands, whispering to each other.

You paused, trying to make sense of it. And then Max caressed Charles’ jaw. Then you decided, it was none of your business whatever they did.

Turning around, you were leaving when you stepped on something and it broke loudly. You just kept walking away, not looking back, you were almost leaving the lot when someone held your wrist, making you turn back around.

“Wait, Y/N, we- we can-” Charles’ voice failed him, visibly nervous.

“We can buy your silence,” Max added, suddenly. You frowned, shaking your head.

“I didn’t see anything,” you muttered trying to walk away, but now Max also held your other wrist.

“Say your price,” Max pressed further, making you angry.

“I don’t know what kind of psycho you take me for, but I didn’t see anything,” you say, suggestively, “I wouldn’t want someone to out me, and I wouldn’t do that to anyone else either. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Fuck,” Max whispered, letting go of your hand.

“You- you promise?” Charles asked, still not letting go of you.

“I swear on my mom’s grave.” You said softly just because you could understand their fear, you knew first hand how cruel the motorsport world could be. Whatever was going on between them was none of your business.

You left without another word, hoping they believed you.

The season kept going, and your car wasn’t as good as the year before which was really upsetting you and forcing you to work even harder to match your quality the previous year.

But also both Max and Charles stopped publicly taunting you, making people wonder if your rivalry had ended. It was annoying because that dynamic was all that you’ve known from them, and the fact that they stopped shading you because they were scared to anger you and you eventually exposed them to the world was even more annoying. You wondered if you should talk to them, to let them know it was never coming out of your mouth.

You decided silence was the best course of action. You had enough problems with your car as it was.

Before the fifth race of the season, all the drivers were called for a meeting, to talk about a few safety measures that were being put in place for paddock safety. You sat through it quietly, only listening to the FIA representative. You knew that meeting was because of what had happened to you in Zandvoort the year before, you had taken your complaints to the FIA and miraculously, they had abided by it.

You left the meeting as soon as it was over, walking away. But then, you touched your wrist as a nervous tic.

No. No.

You noticed you didn’t have your watch with you the moment you left the building, patting your pockets to make sure it wasn’t there as you ran right back to the meeting room where the drivers debrief had been.

As soon as you entered, you saw both Max and Charles checking the watch, the monegasque was the one holding it.

“Hey, uh-” you paused, trying to not sound rude, “that’s mine, can I have it back?”

Charles looked at you with that smirk as Max moved away a few steps. Charles opened his hand in your direction, handing you the watch. But as you were to grab it, he pulled back and threw it. You froze, seeing the watching flying directly into Max’s awaiting hands behind you.

“Please, don't-” you gasped as Max pretended to throw it back to Charles. But he didn’t, he just extended his open hand to you, probably noticing the worry in your face.

Skittishly, you got closer to him and grabbed the watch from his hand. He didn’t pull away like Charles had done.

But as you pulled it back, your own hand slipped the watch, and you eyed it with horror as it hit the ground immediately breaking the crystal. You felt like your heart was breaking along with your mom’s watch.

“No, no,” you whispered, kneeling down to take it back.

“Hey, what is happ-” you heard Lewis’ voice entering the room but he stopped short as he saw you almost crying on the floor. He immediately helped you get up.

Both Max and Charles were shocked, still rooted to the spot as it was the first time they ever saw you show any kind of extreme emotion, and the pain in your eyes made both of them get filled with guilt.

You stood up still holding the watch in your hand as a fragile thing, pretty much like your heart.

“Hey, kiddo. Come on,” Lewis put an arm around your shoulders, pushing you away softly after giving the other two drivers a nasty glare.

You didn’t try to get it fixed, and you still wore it even with the crystal shattered. You knew it was a relic, vintage and probably handmade since it was generations in your family. But also you were too emotionally attached to it to get rid of the watch.

After the race, once you got a P2, finally, you went to the hotel, skipping the celebration the team wanted to throw for you but still picking the bill for their night out.

It was late at night when you were rewatching the race, trying to see whatever mistake caused you to miss that P1 that was just within reach but you didn’t manage to take it. You were taking notes, typing in your laptop, when a knock on your door interrupted. You had already ordered room service, but sometimes Amanda did it for you if she thought you weren’t eating enough.

You opened the door to be faced with Max and Charles.

“Can we come in?” Charles asked, and confused, you opened the door wider to let them in.

“We came to apologize about the watch, we’re sorry.” Max started, looking at Charles for his cue.

“That was really immature of us, sorry,” Charles added.

“It’s alright,” you sighed, a little tired, “it’s not your fault, really. I dropped it, not you.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened if we just didn’t mess around with you.”

You sighed again, despite being sad about the watch, you didn’t really blame them for it. Charles took your hand suddenly, making you stare up at them, both of them looking at the broken watch you were still wearing. Max opened the bag and handed you a small box. It was a Rolex.

“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” he handed you the watch. You stared at the box, taking it as a sign of good faith from them.

“Thanks,” you whispered, “I was just eating, you wanna join me?”

They nodded, uncertain. They followed you to the en-suite, the most recent race paused on the TV. You closed your laptop.

“I appreciate the gesture, but-” you unclasped the watch in your wrist, handing it to Charles who was sitting closer to you, “it has emotional value, it was mum’s.”

You waited as they read the inscription, Charles gasping when he realized it had way more value to you than the stupidly expensive Rolex they managed to buy you. Running his thumb on the inscription, Max looked at you.

“I know a guy back home, he- he can fix the crystal,” Max told you, “would you trust me to take it to get fixed? It’s the least I could do.”

“You don’t have to,” you shook your head, “I don’t blame you for breaking it.”

“Please?” Max asked, and something inside you spread warmth in your chest.

“Fine,” you sighed, seeing Max pocket your watch in his bag, “please, help yourselves.”

They went to the table of room service and grabbed a bit of food. They sat around.

“You were rewatching the race?”

“Yeah, I like taking notes, seeing what I can improve…”

You closed your laptop and the TV, not wanting them to check your confidential information.

“How are you feeling this year?” Max asked, awkwardly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m alright, I guess. I mean, the car could be better,” you shrugged.

“And about your mom?” Charles looked at you intently.

“It’s grief, right?” You blinked slowly, “it comes and goes in waves. Sometimes they’re tiny waves breaking on your ankles, and sometimes it feels like you’re going to drown in them.”

There’s a brief silence, but when you meet his eyes, Charles’ eyes shine in understanding.

“I know.”

Max managed to change topics, talking about the track, the race and his impressions. Was a safe topic, lighter. You didn’t notice how, but you three ended up sitting in a small circle on the floor. Max was passionately talking about track adherence, and he was so focused on his explanation that it was actually funny. You eyed Charles, and you two bursted out laughing, which made Max stop, looking at you confused.

When you stopped laughing, sitting straight, Charles was suddenly very close. Way closer than before. His face was just a few centimeters away from yours, and it made you dizzy.

You snapped your head to Max, who was looking at you with just as much desire as Charles. He nodded to you, giving you permission.

Charles held your face and kissed you, softly and tentatively. You broke the kiss, looking from Charles’ beautiful eyes to Max’s. You watched as Max shifted closer to you, holding your jaw as he kissed you too.

You couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening, but you were very shocked and equally turned on.

Max’s hand slid from your jaw, down to your neck, and you were still wide eyed, your breathing progressively more shallow. You felt Charles behind you, his hand on your waist, pressing softly. You closed your eyes as Max slowly closed the distance between you again, and you felt his lips pressing against yours. With shaky fingers, your hands trailed beneath his shirt, up his back, nails grazing his skin. While you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss, you moaned, feeling Charles leaving open mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder, goosebumps rising in your skin. It was overwhelming, because they were everywhere, hands, lips and bodies stealing your breath. Everything was so hot, you felt like removing your clothes and the pulsing in your shamelessly wet panties.

“Take it off,” Max breathed after breaking the kiss, he helped the monegasque, who quickly tore your clothes leaving you only in panties. Max pushed you until your back was on the floor, and he and Charles were kneeling on each side of your body. “Charlie, come kiss her.”

Charles laid down, kissing you gently first, then deepening the kiss until you were pawing his waist and torso under his shirt. Seeing your struggle, he removed the shirt himself, while Max watched, running both hands up and down your thighs. Max suddenly pulled Charles closer, kissing him, their kiss was just as hard and messy as the kisses they had given you. Seeing the way their lips explored each other made you even wetter, and you couldn’t help but run your finger above your slit, your pussy still clothed. They removed each other’s clothes very fast.

They stopped, and Max soon removed your panties, laying between your legs. You moaned as his tongue lapped at your pussy, tentatively and Charles leaned down to kiss you again. Your heart was running insane, so fast you thought it would stop. Charles went lower and mouthed at your nipples, and you reached for his cock.

“Spit,” you ordered Charles, offering the palm of your hand. A little hesitantly, he did, a glob of spit on the palm of your hand and you grabbed his cock again, and he moaned out loud feeling the glide of your hand.

You felt one of Max’s fingers inside you, twisting so good that you had to hold his head, grinding your hips into him. The pleasure of Max working your cunt was so blinding that you lost focus on the handjob, but it didn’t deter Charles, who just decided to fuck into your hand.

You looked down, just to see Max looking straight at you through his lashes. He sucked at your clit, watching you writhe and come undone, grinding your hips on his face, wetting half of his face as he devoured you.

“Charlie will fuck you now, yeah?” Max asked as you recovered, and he carried you to the couch, positioned you on his lap, facing Charles, who just knelt between your legs.

Charles filled you up in one swift movement, and you moaned at the tight fit, melting into Max just behind you, holding you firmly, one hand on your neck, the other across your abdomen. The dutch kissed your neck, biting and sucking your skin, but his eyes trained on the way Charles’ hips started moving into you, you pulled Max’s hand that was on your neck and put it over your mouth, to muffle your moans, he pushed two fingers in your mouth and you sucked. The pressure was deliriously good, and Charles kept blabbering about how good you felt, and how warm was your cunt, and you were making him feel so good, mixed with lots of french expletives. Charles pressed further, his chest against yours as he found Max over your shoulder and kissed him. You felt Max’s hand that was between your bodies, find its way to your clit, rubbing in circles and pushing you even faster to your second orgasm, drooling over the fingers he still had in your mouth, you hips shaking so much you were rubbing Max’s cock with your ass, at the same time that Charles came crashing down, filling you up as he moaned out loud.

“My turn now, yes?” Max said, repositioning you like a ragdoll, while Charles laid down, pulling you on all fours on top of him, as Max took his turn behind you.

Charles pulled your face closer, kissing you all sloppy and open mouthed as Max filled you up to the hilt, making your knees shake. As if he knew, and he probably did, Charles held your hips up when Max started pistoning into you, fucking you so good you could only hold onto Charles and bite into his shoulders to keep yourself from being too loud.

You did not sleep that night. Max and Charles’ stamina wa otherworldly, and you three kept fucking until morning came. Sometimes you just watched them, sometimes you took one while the other rested, sometimes you took them at the same time. With them, you tried more adventurous positions than you had tried your entire life. They had a different way of finding out the workings of your body, of discovering the rhythm you liked and the sound of your moaning echoing on the walls.

The second time they slipped into your room was almost three weeks later, under the guise that they wanted to give your watch back now fixed.

After a little chit chat Max pulled you into his lap and Charles pressed his chest to your back and in minutes you three were naked, touching and kissing and moaning into each other's mouth.

It became some sort of routine, every few weeks, they would sneak into your room, and you’d bang them any way you wanted.

Then they would stay more, bring dinner or put on a movie. They would snuggle with you in bed while the movie played, Max holding your thigh softly and you playing with Charles’ hair. It was good to unwind and forget about Formula 1.

Every day, after they left, you’d whisper to yourself.

“Don’t get too attached, Y/N. They’re your rivals.”

You didn’t want to poison all the sexy moments and all the tranquility they made you feel, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get too caught up in this. It should be fun, but it couldn’t be more than that.

Racing was never a topic of conversation between you, not only because those few hours together were sacred but also because all three of you were rivals and were in different teams, which could get very messy, very quickly.

Eventually, after Barcelona, McLaren brought a new upgrade. Which for you, it was a godsend. Finally, you could get back on your feet again. The car felt lighter and you had much more control. And in Montreal, you finally got the first win of the season. A huge weight was lifted from your shoulders and you even cried a couple of tears finishing the race first for the first time that year. And it was also the first 1-2 you and Lando had ever, which was even more reason for celebration.

You and Lando ended up closing a club for your celebration, inviting the whole team.

Max and Charles were there too, and they spent most of the night in a booth, chatting among other drivers. You knew they were watching you even pretending not to, and it was a matter of time until they had drunk enough to approach you. So you decided to not stay late and just leave.

You bid Lando goodbye quickly, telling him you were tired even if it was relatively early for a clubbing night. As you made your way to the most discreet exit, you felt a hand on your forearm, pulling you to a corner, and you were faced with both Charles and Max.

“Leaving so soon, chéri?” Charles asked, eyes glossy and probably a little tipsy.

“We came here to celebrate you,” Max said, one hand going around your waist. Wide eyed, you immediately pushed his hand away, taking a step back. They were confused.

“Not here. Too public, someone might see us, or even take pictures.”

“Don’t be like that, there is no one around now,” Charles pointed around, and granted, it was really empty on that side of the club, but anyone could walk in any moment.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, “not in public.”

“You’re ashamed of us?” Max squinted, looking into your eyes.

“I never said that. I can’t risk anything happening to my image just because I wanted to screw someone.”

“So that’s how you see us? A good fuck and nothing else?” Max pressed you further.

“Again,” you repeated slowly, your patience running thin, “that’s not what I said,” there was a tense pause and you pinched the bridge of your nose, “look, we all had more than enough to drink, and this is not the moment or the place for this conversation.”

“No, no,” Charles shook his head, “I believe you made yourself clear enough.”

With that, they walked away clearly pissed with you. Going back to the hotel, you knew there was nothing you could do at that moment to change their minds. They wouldn’t understand your point of view that easily, not only because they were drunk, but also because they weren’t a woman in Formula 1. Everyone fed off your failures like vultures, and if it leaked that you were going out not only with one, but with two other drivers, you knew you could kiss your career goodbye.

The media was never the kindest to you, and the majority of the fans weren’t either, so you knew how it would look if anyone found out about you three. They already call you slut without any knowledge of your romantic history, they would ruin your life if they were to know. And most certainly question not only your seat in Formula 1 but also your World Championship.

You just hoped you could explain that to Charles and Max when they were with clear heads.

Only you didn’t.

They never came back to your room, nor did they answer your texts.

Two entire weeks passed with only anguish gnawing at your insides, trying to reach them privately, but failing miserably. They were not only ignoring you, but also avoiding you. You couldn’t take it anymore, so in Austria, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You’d corner the first one you saw.

And that was Charles right before the drivers parade. You were the first ones to get there, which gave you some sense of privacy, well, as much as you could.

“You need to listen to me, this is a misunderstanding, Charles.”

But he straight up ignored you, not even bothering to look in your direction. With a heavy heart, you nodded, moving away from him. Making peace with the fact that maybe this was the end of your little affair. They had not understood you, and had ignored all your efforts to explain, closing the door of whatever was going on.

Resolute, you decided that maybe it was for the best. If they couldn’t understand where you were coming from, then better say farewell already. But you couldn’t help that anguishing feeling in your stomach.

It showed to be true during the race, when you were P4 fighting to get into the podium at least. Max was P3, and he fought tooth and nail to not allow you to pass, even if you had the pace to overtake him. You tried a risky move, one you had learned from Fernando Alonso. Pretend you’re going to overtake on one side, let him defend that side, then push your car to the other side and dive for the position.

You almost did the full move, but when you were going for the position, Max just pushed his car into your side, which caused you to lose control and you spun to the gravel. You just decelerated as much as you could. You left the car and went back to the pits with the help of marshals. You didn’t bother to even look into Max’s direction, feeling your eyes getting teary. You weighted with your helmet on, and only took it off inside the garage, because you didn’t want people to see you cry.

It was relatively normal to DFN because of a crash, and given the history of rivalry between you and Max, it was also very common to collide with him. What made you upset wasn’t him protecting his position, but him purposefully taking you out, like he was just getting back at you because he was angry. You had left enough space for him. Despite the overtaking maneuver being a little risky, you never once got close enough to him that you could cause an accident. He had not slipped and lost control. He had not tried to avoid you. He just ran straight into your sidepod.

“What happened today?” A reporter asked you when you went to the post race interviews.

“What is there to say? I think the images speak for themselves.” You shrugged, feeling tired but not wanting to give the media too much as to not cause a PR nightmare to Amanda.

“Seems like the FIA will investigate Max Verstappen because of today’s incident.” Someone else mentioned, and you couldn’t help but scoff.

“I’m sure they will,” you muttered, voice laced with sarcasm.

The debriefing was just as bad with your Team Principal calling you out in front of the whole team not only for damaging your car but also for putting yourself at risk like that.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I did what any other driver would do in my position!” You sighed trying to calm down, “don’t make me quote Ayrton Senna to you. If you no longer go for a gap that exists, then you’re no longer a racing driver. You and everyone saw that Verstappen didn’t have the pace to match me, so he just plunged into me to take me out!”

God, you needed an ice bath. And maybe a new punchbag.

You were getting ready to leave when Max came up to you. You didn’t say anything to him, you honestly didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. You just wanted to go home and cry under the shower.

He was red in the face and looked distressed. You couldn’t help but feel defensive, holding your bag to your chest.

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” you said, trying to walk away but he blocked your path.

“Listen,” he started and the moment he raised his hand to remove his cap, it triggered you, and you flinched as if he was gonna hit you.

He stopped immediately, because he knew that was a trauma response. He knew that him being angry must have reminded you of your father growing up. He knew all that because he too, sometimes, had this kind of knee jerk reaction.

But you felt sick to your stomach. It wasn’t intentional, but it made you look like you believed he would’ve hit you, and rationally you knew he wouldn’t do that. But your stupid body did.

You avoided Max and walked away as fast as you could.

Back in the hotel you just packed your bags and left, going straight to the airport to fly back to Monaco. You were exhausted by the time you made it home, but you still took a shower and cried a couple of tears under the streaming water.

In bed, you tried to convince yourself this ending for your fling with them was for the best. It was too complicated anyway.

And you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t miss the feel of Max’s lips against your neck, or the feel of your hands pulling Charles’ hair softly. Or the way Charles used to mumble French mindlessly whenever he was concentrating on something. Or how often Max would do his maxplaining with his vast knowledge of the most random topics.

Your body was so tired but your mind just did not shut off.

You were a couple of hours into staring at the ceiling when the doorbell rang. Carefully, you went there, it was the middle of the night, so you checked the door camera to see both Max and Charles by the door.

Slowly, you opened to them. You swallowed, waiting for them to say something. You felt so vulnerable, this knot in your stomach had been tormenting you since the day they walked away.

“I’m- we’re really sorry,” Max started.

“For ignoring you and mistreating you and never once giving you the chance to explain your side,” Charles took a small step inside.

It was like a dam broke, and you ran into their embrace, sobbing. All three of you hugged, Charles with a comforting hand on your back and Max kissing the side of your head. They patiently waited for you to calm down, and then closed the door and walked you to the sofa.

“I missed you,” you murmured, holding Max’s jaw to peck his lips, doing the same to Charles, “I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Can we talk?” Charles asked, “you said it was a misunderstanding.”

You nodded, taking your phone from your room. You sat on the coffee table as you gave them your phone with your instagram profile opened.

“Check the comments on my last post,” you pointed and they sat side by side scrolling through it, the horror on their faces getting worse every second they kept going.

You knew the kind of comments you had on your profile. Hateful, hurtful comments. It had been that way since you made it into Formula 1.

“What a slut” “I bet there’s a reason why Charles hates her” “She never deserved that championship! #Retire” “Ugly bitch” “Whose dick she had to blow to get a seat?” “Overrated dumb whore” “I bet she tried to fuck her way through the grid, that’s why most of them hate her” “Max should’ve crashed into her harder”

It was nothing new to you, Kimi and your PR team had prepared you for years for this type of treatment. And you honestly had grown used to it, learning to ignore.

“This is disgusting, Y/N!” Charles exclaimed, trying to put the phone away, but Max snatched it back, still reading the comments.

“That’s just a regular Monday for me,” you shrugged, “I’m not trying to victimize myself or anything, but-”

“You are a victim, this is not okay!” Charles said.

“What I wanted to say is, I can’t risk us going public. This is what I face just for doing my job, and it would get so much worse if people ever found out. They already believe I fucked my way to the top, to them, we would just confirm their suspicions,” you felt Charles holding your hand for comfort, “it is very different for a woman. And I adore what we have, but I can't put you above my career and my dreams.”

Max extended his hand to you, and you grasped it, letting him pull you to sit between them. Charles kissed your cheek.

“We would never ask you to do such a thing,” Max said.

“I’m sorry we didn’t see what you are going through with the media and our fans.” Charles muttered, pulling your hair back with a hand, and holding your waist with the other.

“We missed you,” Max whispered against the other side of your neck.

In a couple of minutes they had you spread open on the sofa, Charles’ head between your legs and Max’s lips latched on to your nipples. They made sure to apologize orgasm after orgasm, cooing your moaning mess and kissing you stupid.

Routine went back to normal after that. You still didn’t name your affair and decided that for now, it was better this way.

With the upgraded car, you actually managed to pick up the pace and find yourself rising up the standings.

Silverstone was promising, being one of your favorite tracks, and one you knew you could win again this year. You did great both of the free practices, trying to keep your focus now more than ever, to get a chance at the championship again. There were specific races that you’d amp up your security team for safety, but Silverstone wasn’t one of them.

Qualifying day, you went to the track early morning, to meet with your team, talk about the results of free practices and your input. As you walked to your garage quietly chatting on the phone, you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you aside. You yelped, jerking around and you ended up facing the person. A man, and it took you a couple of seconds to recognize all the gray hair, but the evil eyes were still very much the same.

It had been more than a decade since you saw your father for the last time. Gasping, you took a step back to walk away, but he gripped your forearm, forcing you back.

Funny how fear worked, you hadn’t seen him for years, and you always imagined that now that you were all grown up, you’d be fearless, a big girl, brave and face your father head on. But it wasn’t how things happened. Immediately your fight or fight kicked in. Your eyes darted around, trying to catch someone you knew or someone from security.

“Let. Go.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Is that how you greet your father?” He said, and you pulled your hand from his grasp.

“I don’t have one,” you spat, anger rising in your chest, hand in hand with fear. You wanted to bolt, to ban him from your life forever, to cry and shout all at once.

“I made you. I spent thousands investing in your career so you could be here, a little gratitude would be good,” he said with a fake smile, and it disgusted you.

“I’ll never attribute my success to you, you disgusting piece of-”

He held your face with a hand, pressing your jaw with such force that it made you stumble a step back. You gripped his wrist, trying to pull away but he pressed your face harder, pressing your head against the wall.

“Very careful how you speak to me!” He rasped, gritted teeth and all, “you little shit, you think you are better than me? I turned you into who you are! The least you own me-”

“I owe you shit!” You said, and spat on his face.

“I gave money and a house to that whore you called a mother-”

You snapped, getting a hold of the fear, and you punched him in the face, hard enough for him to get away and you get space to run. You took one single step when you stumbled into someone, and your eyes found Max.

It was a brief second between looking at you, looking behind you and recognising your father. Recovering from your punch, your father tried to get to you again, but Max stood between the two of you, pushing your father’s chest so he stumbled back. Charles arrived soon after with security, as Max explained that this man was to be escorted out and never allowed to come back.

“Chéri, are you ok?” Charles asked, seeing you taking a step back and leaning against the wall.

You nodded, trying to talk but your voice caught on your throat, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your legs gave in and you slid down until you were sitting on the floor.

“Amour, talk to me, hey-” Charles was worried, you were pale and shaking. Max also knelt down beside you, holding your face to try and see if your father had hurt you.

“Get him out,” you said, and Max nodded, going to talk with security.

“Amour-”

“Guys, there’s cameras around the corner!” Lewis showed up out of nowhere.

“I’m fine,” you managed to blurt, holding on the wall to stand up.

“Hey, hey-” Charles tried to hold your arm but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, walking away back into the garage.

Your mind was spinning, all over the place, and through text you told Charles and Max that you were fine and wanted to be alone. The qualifying was a shitshow. Your mind was completely all over the place, and even making it to Q2, you couldn’t go farther than P14, it felt like the car wasn’t responding to your commands.

You came out of qualy completely pissed. At your father, for showing up and ruining your good streak of races. At yourself, for letting him get to your head, for still giving him so much power over you. You walked away without a second thought, went to your room and kicked your boots off.

Press talk was another shit. You couldn’t pay attention to most questions, gave monosyllabic answers, and couldn’t explain why your qualifying performance was so bad compared to the rest of the year.

You just apologized to your team during debriefing, and silently acquiesced to whatever the strategy for the race was. Kimi had texted you asking about what happened, you didn’t want to talk to him just yet.

You were getting ready to leave for the day, when Fernando came into your room.

“I don’t want to talk, Nando,” you held your bag, not even bothering to look at him.

“Good, because I do the talking then. Go, sit down.” He pretty much ordered, his face stony and serious in a way you hadn't seen before. “What happened today?”

“I’ve got a lot going on,” it was all you said.

“Your father showed up, messed with your head and with your confidence,” Fernando said, with the certainty of someone who knew you really well. You wondered if the whole grid knew about your father’s presence today. You gulped. “Look, this is something you will master with time, but I’m going to tell you now. When you put your helmet on and get in the car, you’re a racer, nothing more. Your problems, your worries, they stay back and they never cross your mind for the entirety of the race. Out on the track, you’re one with the car, doing your best is the only thing that matters.” Fernando pressed his index finger softly to your forehead, as if he was quite literally putting it in your head, “Clear. Your. Mind.”

You sniffled, wiping the one tear that came down. Fernando’s face softened, but you knew he wanted only the best for you. And he was right. You kept giving your father this power. You handed him the power. You couldn’t keep letting him get away with it. This was the one thing you knew you were good at, your calling, your destiny and all your hard work. And you’d be damned if your father would keep a hold over your life.

“Clear my mind,” you inhaled, nodding.

You did your best to study your strategy for the day, to focus on what you could do to achieve the best result.

Early the next morning, you went to the FIA, to request access to the camera footage to find images of the altercation between you and your father the day before. The representative you talked to was initially reluctant but once you told him what had happened, he was quick to help you. You explained that it was for the better that none of that came to light, and hopefully you could get your father to be completely banned from Formula One. The representative prepared a report and assured you that your complaint would be taken seriously and they’d work on the matter as fast and as discreetly as possible.

You went to meet your team and go over and over plan A, B and C. When you got in the car, ready to race, you still hadn’t talked with Max or Charles, and you were hopeful to catch them after. Attaching the helmet, you breathed in, slowly, remembering Fernando’s words.

Clear your mind.

You raced like there was no tomorrow, only thinking of the next turn and the next car you had to overtake, you didn’t think of who it was or when, you just did it. In the future, that race was going down in history as a masterclass in overtaking and taking every little opportunity thrown your way. The time passed really fast, and when you came to be, you heard Jace screaming in your ears that you had made it. You had made it to P1 and taken the checkered flag.

Your voice was shaky as you thanked the team and Jace on the radio.

When you left, running towards your team, they congratulated you and despite the great desire to run towards Max and Charles, who were on the podium with you, you somehow managed to find Fernando. You ran towards him, jumping in his arms, not even minding the way your helmets hit with a loud thud. He hugged you, removing your feet from the ground.

“Thank you! Gracias, muchas gracias, Fernando!” You shouted hoping he could hear you with both visors up.

He patted your shoulder as you had to run back to get weighted and to post-race interview.

“Wow, I’m at a loss for words right now! You were a true Lioness during this race! Can you tell us what happened after the difficult Qualy yesterday?” Jenson Button was the one to ask.

“I was in a difficult place yesterday, and I’m very thankful for a pep talk Fernando Alonso gave me, that helped me get back into my jam!” You said, breathless, wiping sweat from your forehead, “I’m also grateful to my team for making the car that matched my energy and focus today!”

“And what did Fernando tell you?” Jenson asked, probably out of curiosity.

“Well, I can’t go out telling my secrets, can I? My rivals are all around!” You winked, and left a laughing Jenson behind.

In the cooldown room, where Max and Charles were already watching a montage with all your overtakes on a screen, you walked up to Charles, taking his hand. He looked a little concerned as you had agreed to keep your relationship private. Max joined, patting a hand on your back, and the three of you made a little triangle.

You looked at them with so much adoration, that it hit Max right in the chest and he wanted nothing more than to hold your face and kiss you silly. Charles held his breath for a brief second, being in the moment with the two of you.

“You were brilliant, today,” Charles muttered, low and hoping no mic would catch the sound.

“Unbelievable, Lioness.” Max also said with a discreet wink, then taking a step back and interrupting the moment.

That wasn’t your first podium, nor your first win, but something was different when you kissed the trophy and raised it to the sky. You felt like you’d taken back control of your life and your career. There was nothing that could actually stop you if you put your mind to it, and you knew now. You shitty father couldn’t squander your dreams when you were fourteen, and he couldn’t do it now either. You were so much bigger than him, greater than that pathetic man could ever be.

And you didn’t need him.

You had a mother that, despite not being there anymore, but she’d always be in your heart, a constant source of strength and faith. You had Kimi, who believed you when no one else did, who put his own hand over fire for you. You had Fernando, Seb and Lewis, your idols in this sport, and such good friends. You had Charles and Max, your lovers, and hopefully your future.

That night, as you were laying down in your suite, sandwiched between the two men that stole your heart, came the email with your renewal contract proposition. A five year offer, possible extensions, to make you the face of your McLaren.

You made love with Charles and Max with renewed energy, enjoying yourself and the feel of their love for you. It was just the assurance you needed to say the words.

“I love you. I love you two very much,” you whispered, running your hand through both their hairs, “I can’t promise much right at this moment, like a normal, public, relationship yet, but I do love you.”

“We know. We love you too.” Max whispered and Charles took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“We love you too much to risk you facing awful dangerous things just so we could call you ours publicly,” Charles agreed.

That year, you didn’t get a second championship as you had dreamed, but you proudly stood with your P2 trophy during the FIA’s Prize Giving Ceremony, your chest swelling with pride as you watched Charles’ beaming face with the P1 trophy.

There was some renewed sense of purpose in yourself as you held the trophy, and in your heart, this one meant just as much as the champion trophy you had gotten the year before. This year you had overcome all the demons that had controlled you for a long time, this year you had not only learned to live with the undying love for your mom, but you had also learned about new forms of love. You had somehow rekindled that love for racing, for believing you were the best and could prove it amidst adversity.

And of course, many adversities were still to come, but now you were sure you had in yourself the power to face them.

When the next season started, you had your eyes on the prize.

Even spending a great amount of winter break with your boyfriends, they were still your rivals on track.

You were fixing your suit on the pitlane when they walked up to you.

“I hope you know this championship is mine,” Max said with a smirk. You caught his playful tone fairly quickly.

“Well, I am the current champion of the world, so we’ll see about that,” Charles crossed his arms.

“Boys, no crying when I leave the both of you eating dust, yeah?” You added, biting back a giggle.

“Baby, go easy on us,” Max joked, and you shook your head.

“Never going easy on my rivals,” You added with a whisper, “not even when they’re my handsome boyfriends.”

“See you after the finish line,” Charles winked, and they both walked away.

“Hope you enjoy the view of my rear!” You said, and they left, laughing.

Always rivals, but much more than that.

NOTE: If you want to know why I chose to end the story this way, or have any questions about the characters future, or any random headcanons, drop by my inbox and I'll try to answer most! Thank you so much for the support in this little adventure! Thank you to everyone who dropped a little ask/message asking for more, I'll try and answer you if I haven't yet! (also, sorry if i missed any tag)

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