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lilbluustar · 18 days ago

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you won't come back

pairing— toxic and obsessive boyfriend!sungchan x fem!reader

wc— 2.5k

content and warnings— toxic relationship dynamics, possessive/jealous behavior, dubcon, controlling partner behavior, obsession themes, alcohol involved, emotional manipulation, rough handling (nonviolent), power play, dirty talk, not romanticized, nsfw (18+ mdi!!), unprotected sex.

note— this is the first time i write something like this, i decided to get out of my comfort zone of what i usually write about and uhm.... don't have too many expectations, it's my first attempt at doing something stronger, but i enjoyed writing this heheh ngl.

Sungchan had always been the perfect boyfriend, gentlemanly, attentive, loving and caring, you trusted him completely and he trusted you, he had always treated you as if you were made of glass, your friends kept telling you how lucky you were to have found a boyfriend as sweet and gentle as him, even if you did something that bothered him, his anger never went too far, even in moments like that, he was caring and loving and treated you with a lot of communication.

but everything changed drastically that day...

you didn't know that Sungchan was on his way for you.

you had invited him earlier, but he declined your invitation.

he himself had told you that he wouldn't come, that he was tired, that he didn't want “unnecessary noise after the week he had had”.

but there he was.

at the entrance to the party, dressed in black, his face tense, his gaze dark as a storm, his jaw clenched.

you saw him after you had uploaded another story. one more. one where you were dancing. where you saw in the background that boy who once confessed he loved you, and a group of girls surrounding you as if you were the sun and they were the planets.

and he... he had seen it all.

he pushed his way through the crowd without a word. no one dared to stop him.

he found you at the edge of the room, laughing with cheeks flushed with alcohol, swaying your hips to the music, provocative without realizing it. or maybe you did.

“love,” he said with a strained, false, venomous smile. “we have to go home. let's go.”

you turned slowly. your expression froze.

“what are you doing here? i didn't even call you to come already...”

your voice trailed the effect of the alcohol, the words soft, confused.

your friends came closer, noticing the change of atmosphere.

“sungchan, wait... let her—”

“i'm fine,” you murmured, though clearly you weren't.

he didn't hear them.

he grabbed you by the wrist with disguised strength and began dragging you toward the exit.

"what are you doing, channie?!”

“shut up.”

his tone was low, but dry as a whiplash.

the walk to the car was a mix of stumbling and arguing cut off by the music in the distance. he barely managed to get you into the passenger seat, slamming the door in pent-up rage.

you climbed in, started the engine, and the silence was so tense that not even the song on the radio dared to play.

“you're crazy.”

“you think so?”

he didn't look at you. his hands were clenched on the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

“you can't come after me like i'm yours.”

"and you're not?"

you looked at him. and you saw something dark in his eyes. something that wasn't just jealousy. it was possession.

"do you know how many people were looking at you?”

“i wasn't doing anything wrong—”

“i saw you.”

his voice trembled.

not of sadness.

of anger.

"dancing like you wanted to be seen. to be touched."

"that's not true! you're sick—"

the car came to a screeching halt in front of your house.

before you could get out, he was already at your door. he opened it, unbuckled your belt with jerky movements.

“what's wrong with you? let me go, Sungchan!”

“you're going to listen to me.”

he carried you on his shoulders leaving you no choice followed by giving you a hard spank on your right ass cheek, ignoring your weak kicks, your halting moans. he unlocked the door with the key he still had, walked in, and dropped you with controlled force onto the living room couch.

"you're drunk. flirting. smiling like nothing."

his body leaned over yours, his shadow covering you.

“do you know what you made me feel?”

he cupped your face, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

"i felt like ripping you away from there. to scream at everyone not to look at you."

you pulled away sharply, your breath hitching.

"you can't do this to me. you can't—"

he grabbed your arm as you tried to get up.

his voice lowered, cutting.

“you're not going back to the party.”

and he pushed you gently back onto the couch, but firmly.

“or do you really want me to lose control?”

his fingers tangled in your hair as his forehead touched yours.

there, in that instant, between desire and poison, between fear and fire... you knew there was no turning back.

your lips opened to say something, but he wouldn't let you.

he kissed you. hard. hungry. as if it was punishment, as if every second you spent away from him needed to be bitten away.

his hands went to your waist in desperation, pushing you back against the couch again as he settled on top of you, controlling every inch.

“is that how you like to be looked at?” his voice crawled against your ear, husky, low, hot. “is that what you wanted, to provoke? for everyone to fantasize about you?”

his teeth grazed your neck, marking it, leaving bites that you knew would leave marks for a few days. leaving that mute threat of what was to come if you weren't his.

his fingers snuck under your dress, caressing the skin of your thighs as if gauging how far he could go before he broke you.

“but you're not going to,” he murmured. “because you're not going anywhere.”

he looked at you. fixed. hard. with that rib-shaking intensity.

"you. you are. mine."

you swallowed spit, eyes glittering from the mixture of rage, adrenaline... and something else you dared not name.

“and i'm going to make it so clear, you're not even going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

he bit your lip. not out of tenderness. out of desperation, hurting it. which caused every kiss to be laced with the alcoholic, metallic taste of your hurting lip and his saliva.

his hands clung to your hips, making you feel how much it had affected him to see you there, dancing without him, ignoring him, shining for other people's eyes.

every kiss he gave you now was punishment, every caress, a way of marking territory.

“are you sorry yet?” his fingers trailed down your back. “because i don't regret going to the party and bringing you home"

he spun you around in a dry motion, pushing you against the backrest.

his body pressed against yours, panting against your neck, his voice roaring in your ear with every word.

“i want you to remember this every time you go out without me. i want you to feel my hands here when you dance...” he squeezed your thighs tightly. "...and here.” his hand brushed the curve of your ass cheekily. "and know that no one else can touch you here. no one." he said, bringing one of his hands to your pussy and one of your breasts, squeezing them in a way that made you let out a moan from the pain it caused.

the atmosphere was burning. and there was no music.

just the rhythm of your ragged breathing, the creaking of the couch, and your halting sighs as tension mingled with desire, and desire with something darker, wilder.

"are you going to go out again without me?” his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire. “are you going to let someone else look at you as if they could have you?”

you didn't answer, you couldn't speak, you had never seen Sungchan like that, you were still so surprised that you were unable to formulate a response. a dry, humorless laugh escaped your lips.

"no, baby. i swear...next time, i won't let you go that far."

and then he kissed you again, as if with that he could erase everyone else.

as if his tongue could wash away your memory of other people's stares.

as if the only one who mattered— the only one who could touch you— was him.

and you, between the fear, the adrenaline, and that excitement you didn't know whether to hate or need...

you just gave in.

your legs were already shaking as he leaned over you, holding your face with a firm hand, forcing you to look at him.

“look at me,” he growled, his voice like a knife cutting through the air. “i want you to look at me when i tell you.”

his thumb stroked your lower lip, slow... until he pressed it. he opened your mouth effortlessly, slipping two fingers in as if he didn't care about anything else.

"that's how you were... weren't you? mouth open, eyes glistening, as if begging to be touched..."

he pulled them out with a wet pop and brought them straight to your thighs, down your bristling skin until they left a sticky trail that made you hold your breath.

“do you like teasing me, do you like seeing me like this, watching me lose control for you?”

his mouth found your neck again, this time licking, biting without delicacy.

“look what you're doing to me,” he whispered against your skin, his voice so low and warm you felt it vibrate all the way to your stomach. “you've got me sick.”

he pulled your legs hard, making you slip until your hips were right on the edge.

“they were looking at you like they knew what you were hiding under this dress.” his hands came up slowly, pinching, marking. "but only i know. only i can touch you like this."

he tucked his head between your legs and rested his cheek on your thigh as he looked up at you from below, his lips leaving wet kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs.

“do you want me to tell you what i thought when i saw those stories? i thought about doing this same thing...but with your friends watching. so they'd know you're not as sweet as you look.”

he bit there, right where you knew it would leave a mark. it hurt, in response, you arched up. your hands clutched at his hair, half trying to push it away, half begging him to stop.

“don't do that,” he whispered, holding your wrists with just one of his hands “don't you dare run from me again.”

he climbed up your body like a hungry predator until he was on top of you, his knee pressing steadily between your legs and his eyes burning.

"you know what i want? i want you to be unable to look in the mirror tomorrow without thinking of me. i want that when you sit down, you'll remember my hands. and when you take a bath... you'll still feel me on your skin."

he kissed you again hard, almost angrily.

his tongue darted out without asking permission, and your whole body shuddered.

“you're going to beg for me, do you understand? and when you do… i'm going to take you so slow, so deep… you're not going to be able to say anyone else's name.”

he turned you around, leaving you face down against the back of the couch, his chest pressed against your back, his breathing agitated, hot.

“you wanted intensity? well, here, love. because tonight… i'm not letting you go."

and with one hand slowly moving down your back —possessive, dominant, desperate— beginning to spank hard on both of your buttocks, there were so many in such a short time that the moment came when because of the force he exerted in spanking you, you were unable to feel the others, they seemed to be numb now because of the pain, he reminded you that when Sungchan gets jealous, he doesn't think anymore. he only acts.

followed by the sound of your clothes being ripped was the only thing that filled the silence for a moment and made you react.

your fingers barely managed to cling to the back of the couch as he leaned you closer, pushing you from the hip until your back formed a tantalizing, humiliating, perfect arch for him.

"look at you… you're like this because of me. because you know there's no one else who could have you this needy."

he pinched and began to aggressively squeeze your sensitive boobs, taking one by one of your nipples into his mouth, biting them until they were incredibly red and sore, with quite a few marks painted on both of them.

his voice was choked, as if what he felt could no longer be contained.

his hands were everywhere— holding your waist tightly, down to where your legs trembled, up again, scratching, marking.

“you knew what you were doing when you postedd those stories,” he growled against your ear. "you wanted this. you wanted this Sungchan."

his mouth slid down your neck as one of his hands moved down until he began to insert some of his fingers inside you.

it was painful.

even your first time you hadn't experienced that kind of pain, you weren't wet enough and his long fingers were already working quickly inside you.

you were scared

he had you trapped, as if he had to leave his breath on your skin to make sure no one else could imagine himself there.

and then, he came in.

all at once.

without warning.

without pause.

a scream broke from your throat, and he smiled. dark. devilishly satisfied.

“shh, don't cry now, baby... this is what you provoked, remember? now you hold on, beautiful.”

each thrust was deeper, more desperate.

there was no tenderness in his movements - only hunger. rage. jealousy transformed into unchecked desire.

he pulled your hair back, forcing you to arch even more.

“look at me. i want you to watch me while i do it. let it be well recorded who it is that breaks you like this.”

your moans mingled with his breathing, with the broken gasps he let out as he continued to mark you from the inside, as if his body needed to erase all traces of anyone who ever looked at you.

“do you still want to go out? do you still feel pretty in front of others?”

he caressed your face with one hand while with the other he clutched your hip as if you were going to run away—as if you belonged to him, completely, forever.

“you are mine. all of you. every bit of you.”

he took you harder, his movements bordering on punishment, out of control, until your legs could barely hold you up.

“and when you're done begging me... i'm going to leave you so full of me... you're going to walk around thinking about this all day.”

his name escaped from your lips, broken. and he leaned in, sticking his forehead to your back, drenched in sweat, panting as if his life was passing away with you.

“say it again,” he commanded. “say it like you really mean it. tell me who breaks you like this.”

and you said it. you shouted it.

because in that moment, you were no longer you.

you were his.

you felt your orgasm approaching even though sungchan this time was not dedicated to give you pleasure like other times.

but before you were able to reach your long awaited climax, he seemed to read your mind and went ahead to tell you:

"you are forbidden to touch yourself, you are not going to finish, you don't deserve it..." you remained silent, you didn't answer, at that moment, you knew that if you tried to contradict him, it could turn out worse.

and then he...

he finished inside you, with a low, guttural moan, filling you completely and deeply with his warm essence, as his hand sank between your thighs one last time, making sure every corner of your body knew his name.

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sexybritishllama · 1 year ago

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strap in folks it's time for another neopets drama update

some background reading before we begin: back when neopets wanted to introduce customisation (i.e. dressing up your pet) in 2007, they decided to 'convert' all existing pet art to align with a rigid body structure, rather than all having unique poses. it was just not feasible to create new pieces of art for hundreds of different pet poses every single time they released a new clothing them

customisation had been highly requested up until this point. however, the conversion was NOT popular. in some cases, particularly for basic colours, the change wasn't huge, but in other cases.... uh....

you get the idea. the more expensive colours like plushie, faerie, grey, royal and darigan got the worst of it because they had the more unique poses pre-conversion, and therefore it was largely agreed that the change to the stiff 'samey', frankly kinda goofy converted look did not look great

most users did not get a choice in having their neopet converted and it was done automatically, but if you had one of these colours where the change was huge, you were given the choice of converting or retaining the old pose (but not having the option to customise your pet). those pets that retained the old, pre-conversion poses are therefore referred to as 'unconverted', or UC for short

once a pet is converted, there's no returning to UC. you also couldn't create UC pets anymore, making UCs a limited resource that would only increase in value with time, particularly as people abandon their pets, leave the site, get frozen, etc.

i could write an entire dissertation on the drama that UC pets have caused for the pet trading economy, the neopet account black market, and general retention of the userbase, but to sum it up, people REALLY want UC pets. they are the single most coveted status symbol on the site

we skip forward now to 2023

the neopets team are planning to introduce UC pets back to the site, so that people will be able to create their own UC pets again for the first time post-converstion (legally at least)

they drip feed bits of information over the year about what this will look like. the main points are

changing a pet to UC will be done via some kind of item bought with neocash, the premium currency on neopets that you need to spend real money to get

putting this item on your pet will give it the UC art style appearance

so. not much really known. but expected release is set for january 2024

yesterday, they hosted an AMA focusing on the new UC pet system and how this was going to work. noticeably absent is any explanation of how much this is actually going to cost and whether it is going to involve any kind of gatcha mechanic, so that's causing our first lot of concern

second lot of drama is that the new UCs aren't actually going to be COMPLETELY the same as the old art, as they're making some small changes for style consistency, see below (old on top, new below):

the biggest drama, however, comes from how they're dealing with the 'original' UC pets. ALL pets will be getting forcibly converted on the 23rd, with anyone who has a pet that is already an original UC immediately receiving the UC neocash item. there's mention of possibly some kind of trophy or badge recognition for particularly old pets, but it's vague, and generally seems like it won't be possible to distinguish between the original UCs and these new ones

the people who already have OCs are not happy about this

people are allegedly pounding their pets, cancelling their premium, and quitting the site in protest. the boards are flooded with people complaining about the changes and laughing at the downfall of the 'neo-elite' in equal measure

it's t-minus 5 days until the second great conversion goes live. let's all pray for our souls

#eloise talks #neopets #neotag #this isnt even going into peoples displeasure at the fact you dont even need to be the og colour to make it oc #i.e. from what we can gather you can have a red kacheek #apply this nc uc item #and then it can look like an uc faerie kacheek?#AND the drama over this now destroying the uc market and possibly requiring people to get gift boxes for trading #i can keep going

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 1 year ago

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Lovers

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (y/n)

Warnings: smut!!, cheating

the background of the story: a few months ago you decided to visit your friend Sophie who lives in Monaco. Sophie has been in a relationship with Carlos for a while, and his teammate Charles is in a relationship with a girl (Ava) who isn't with him for the right reasons and doesn't really care about him. due to a combination of circumstances, you stayed in Monaco to live in Sophie's apartment and started running social networks for Ferrari, filming behind the scenes and similar things. From the very beginning, you and Charles have a love-hate relationship. He keeps sending you mixed signals and you never know where you're standing with him. A few weeks before you locked yourself out of the apartment, you shared a kiss that you couldn't stop thinking about…and neither could he.

Y/n's POV

After about half an hour of waiting in front of the locked door, the elevator opens and the eagerly awaited Charles steps out. Of course he had to be the one to come and 'save' me because who else would it be? Our relationship has not changed much in these months. Somehow I also accepted that that kiss happened once and that was it. After all he is taken so I forced myself to stop thinking about him entirely.

As he steps out of the elevator, at first he doesn't say anything but just smirks at me.

"Please, just don't say anything." I say as he comes in front of me pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jeans. He was looking as handsome as always wearing a simple white oversized t-shirt and light washed baggy jeans. No one could ever pull off rings, bracelets and sunglasses the way he does with his perfectly messy curls.

"Y/n." He says putting the key into the lock. "Wasn't going to." As the door finally opens I see smoke coming from the kitchen. My lasagna..

"No, no, no, no!" Horrified and worried, I start repeating, running towards the kitchen, begging God that I didn't set someone else's kitchen on fire and that only the lasagna was harmed.

"What is happening?" Charles runs after me.

"Oh thank God.." I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that nothing is burning in the kitchen except for my lasagna, which turned completely black.

"What exactly are you thanking God for?" He asked mockingly, watching me take the tray of unrecognizable lasagna out of the oven.

"I'm thanking Him for not accidentally setting this whole apartment on fire."

"You're a real danger Y/N." He laughs leaning over the counter. "Like in every possible way." And I join him. I feel like I'm in love with these so beautiful and yet so rare moments of laughter with Charles.

"Thank you for coming here with the keys. I really don't know how else I'd manage to enter the apartment since Sophie and Carlos are in Madrid."

"That lasagna would be a nice thank you for having to come here, but since you're such a great cook.." He mocks again, but I don't mind it.

"Oh stop it!" I wave my hand and open the fridge to see what's left in there. "Well, I don't have anything else left to offer you except beer?"

"I'll take it."

One beer for me, one for him, one for him, one for me, and then again one for him, one for me and so the hours went by without even realizing that it was already dark outside. We were sitting on the floor on the carpet in front of the couch. The TV was on, but we got into talking so much that no one paid attention to it.

"I still can't believe Carlos and Sophie are getting married." Charles says taking another sip from the bottle.

"I personally think it's a bit too fast 'cause they've been together for only like a year, but if they feel like that's it, then I'm all for it. He's head over heels for her."

"Yeah, I guess when you know you know."

"Besides, it's perfect timing since she's pregnant with him so-"

"What?!" At that moment I realize that my tongue works faster than my mind and I pour out Sophie's secret to Charles.

"Oh no no! Forget it please!" I don't know what was I trying to achieve with this? Maybe erase his memory?

"Sophie's pregnant? Carlos is going to be a dad?!" He asks unable to wrap his mind around the fact.

"Yes, yes they're having a baby, but please be quiet about it because literally no one knows but me. Carlos is just about to find out."

"Oh my God..I can't believe it." I notice that his face drops a bit. He doesn't seem all that excited about the rather exciting news. After all Carlos is his best friend. Or at least one of them.

"What?" I ask. "Aren't you excited for him?"

"I am, of course. But it just got me thinking how so much good things is happening to him - he's getting podiums, every weekend he gets better and better, he's getting married, now excepting a child and then I'm over here feeling like I'm fucking stuck in a place..I don't know." This is the first time that after 3 and a half months of knowing Charles he is showing his vulnerable side. He is finally opening up to me and we're finally having a meaningful conversation.

"Why are you feeling stuck in a place?"

"I don't know how to explain it. Nothing's pushing me forward, I feel empty. I feel like I'm waiting on something, but it's not coming." I'm trying to read between the lines what he is trying to tell with this, but unsuccessfully. "I'm fucking struggling."

"Charles.." I listen to him with a heavy heart and wish to hug him and wipe the sadness away. "I'm sorry that you feel this way. What about Ava? Shouldn't she be your motivation?"

"She should be my motivation." He says with a sneer. "Except that's not the case. I once wanted her to be the one to push me forward, but now I'm not even sure if I want it to be her. She's never fucking there and I got tired." I remember when Lando said that he's never talking about his relationship with them and yet here he is talking about it to me, almost a stranger to him, even though it's obviously painful for him to share his feelings.

"If the relationship no longer makes you happy and fulfilled, then why not put an end to it?" I honestly ask him dying to know his answer.

"It's not as simple as it seems. She's Ava Wolff." He says taking a look at my eyes. "And I would like to change the subject now."

"Okay." I decide not to push it. The time will come when he will say that too. "But, just so you know I like you tonight." I say trying to light up the mood and succeed when he chuckles.

"Really? Well I guess better late than never. But, just so you know I've liked you since the Monaco GP." He says and starts playing with the red bracelet I gave him that day for good luck remembering how devastated he was that day because he didn't perform well and his girlfriend wasn't even there at his home race.

I start to stir in place from his words trying to hide the fact that he made me blush. He notices it anyway and pulls himself closer to me.

"Why are you so nervous?" He asks calmly looking straight at me as I tried to look anywhere but his mesmerizing green eyes.

"I'm not." I say quite softly and uncertainly. He scoots even closer to me, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath on the skin of m neck. He is facing me while I am facing the TV. My heart is beating so harsh I can feel it pounding against my rib cage.

"Y/n.."

"Hm?"

"I've been trying really hard to forget about it," He says, referring to the kiss we shared, as he moves a strand of my hair behind my ear and keeps his palm on my cheek. "I just can't seem to." Before I can even think of anything to say, our eyelids slightly start closing and our lips meet.

At that moment everything becomes less important, neither of us breaks the kiss, we decide to save the "this is wrong" and "we shouldn't, we have to stop" for later.

He kissed me so delicately, his lips softly brushed mine. He was so careful caressing my cheek with his thumb and the kiss was so tender leaving me wanting more.

"Charles.." I breathe out whispering.

"Don't overthink this, please. I'm dying to kiss you over and over again." His words were enough to erase any doubt in me whether I wanted this or not. They got me hooked eagerly wanting more of whatever this was. Once the kiss turned from gentle to passionate, then firmer and more determined, I knew I desperately needed him in every way that there is.

"I want you." I was trying to refrain from moaning since he hasn't even touched me properly yet and I was already a mess.

"You have me so easily. Come here." He pulls me into his lap so I straddle him without breaking the kiss. I worked my mouth against his while his hands were roaming my body under my oversized t-shirt. Once he reached the bra clasp he stopped for a second to take a look at my eyes asking for permission to remove it.

"Take it off." I whisper and seconds later the bra was thrown to the side. With one hand he cupped my breast and with the other he pulled me down making me grind on his stiffened crotch. He threw his head back groaning as I pressed myself against him.

"Fuck, take these off." He says tugging at the hem of my shorts. I obediently do as he orders, taking my t-shirt off along the way and in a matter of seconds I'm sitting in his lap only in my panties completely revealing myself to him. He takes a second to admire my naked body with hungry eyes and slightly parted lips eyeing me up and down.

"You're so beautiful, fuck." My heart flutters at his sweet comment even though I didn't want him to be sweet-talking to me. I wanted him to tell me how much he wanted me, what he would do to me, and how he wanted to have me.

His hand found its way to my panties rubbing me over them feeling the now already damp lace fabric. "You're soaking, is this for me? Have I made you feel this wet?" He wasn't even trying to hide the smug on his face. I gasp at his words and his touch, but he wanted to hear me. "Answer me."

"It's all for you." He pulls my panties aside and starts rubbing small and slow torturous circles on my clit.

"This isn't the first time that you're wet for me now is it?" He murmurs against my lips and I gulp panting. "I know it isn't. I know you've been thinking about me." He glides his fingers over my wet folds up and down before he slips his middle finger inside me. I wince at the the coldness of his finger, but soon start moving my hips against his hand.

"Look at you.. So hot, so eager for me. I've been getting hard thinking about you and your innocent lips wrapped around me even though they're anything but innocent." He slips another finger inside me and I almost finish right away at the profanities that he's telling against my skin. I start to unbutton his pants while he takes of his shirt. He lifts himself up on the couch and I stay down on my knees between his legs. I pull his boxers down his legs revealing the long shaft that sprung off his hitting his lower stomach. I decided to tease him a little and start working my tongue everywhere but the tip where he needed me the most. Once again he throws his head back in pleasure desperate for my touch around him and I enjoy every second of listening him moaning my name. I lick his balls and gently dig my nails into the skin of his thighs. He tries to grab himself, but I stop his hand and put it back on the side.

"Wrap your lips around me, you're driving me insane." I smirk as I see him on almost begging for me. It doesn't take long until I do ad he pleases taking his shaft and giving it a few strokes before I start bobbing my head up and down paying special attention to his aching red tip.

"You're taking it so well for me, so fucking beautiful." His words are prompting while he's moving hair out of my face and collecting it into a ponytail so he can lead my head. I continue doing what I was fastening my pace until he stops me taking my chin between his fingers.

"I don't wanna cum like this and if you continue I sure fucking will. I need to feel you around me. Do you want me to fuck you, hm?"

"Yes, Charles fuck I do." I pant as the aching feeling between my legs rises. He pulls me up by my elbows and I straddle him again as he pulls me again for another long kiss his tongue fiercely wrestling mine. He takes his shaft into his hand prepping it a bit before positioning it on my center. I don't wait for him to pull me down on him, I do it myself rolling my hips against him at first slowly so I can adjust to his length and enjoy every second of the feeling of him inside of me.

"Yes baby ride me, you're so good for me. You do it so good." Butterflies errupt in my stomach at him calling me baby. His thumb brushes over my lower lip and I hold onto his hand. His other hand slides down to rub circles on my clit again and I feel my legs starting to shake.

"Oh Charles, Charles.." I cry out his name clenching around him.

"Eyes on me." He lifts up my chin making me look him in the eyes while I come undone around him and he starts working his hips upwards wanting to prolong my climax. I try to squirm away as the excessive feeling of pleasure overwhelms me and sensitivity takes over. Charles stops me by tightly wrapping his strong arms around me hugging me and hiding his face in the crook of my neck leaving trail of small gentle kisses.

"That's it. You're doing so well for me. Can you keep going?" I nod my head yes and he's quick to turn me over and lay me down onto the couch. He pulls himself out of me and presses himself against my stomach his lips never leaving my neck. I tug on his hair with one hand and with the other slide my nails down his back.

"Kiss me." I plead and he does so. He teases me with his tip going over my now too sensitive and wet folds.

"Will you be able to cum for me one more time?"

"I don't know.." I whisper with a trembling voice. "But I don't wanna stop." That's all it takes for him to push himself deep inside me tiredlessly working his hips in and out of me.

"You're so fucking tight." He attaches his lips to my hard nipples flicking his tongue arounf them and nibbling on them making me whine out his name.

"Charles..oh yes."

"So fucking hot hearing you moan my name." He says. "Fuck, what you do to me..Touch yourself for me."

I slide my hand between us down to my clit making quick circular movements and the sight of me touching myself drives him completely crazy it has him rolling his eyes and panting.

"Fuck, baby I'm close, I'm gonna cum." He starts moving his hips faster hitting my walls making me clench myself around him and screaming out his name as I finish one more time. Seconds later he pulls out stroking himself at fast pace and cumming all over my stomach.

Barely catching his breath he gives me a peck on the lips before falling onto me and I close my eyes playing with his locks.

Leaving Charles on the couch, I get up and head towards the bathroom. I slide down my now completely soaked panties and step inside the shower. As the lukewarm water hits my skin, I let out a deep breath and close my eyes letting myself go through all the emotions that have accumulated in me in the last few hours.

Guilt washes over me because I don't feel guilty and because I know I'd do this all over again with him. I have never before experienced something so passionate, sensual, exciting and satisfying, something that left me wanting more of him. I find myself smiling thinking about him and what we just did, but even though i don't want to let myself expect anything, I forgive myself this time because i'm still under the impression of him tightly gripping my body, kissing me all over my neck and calling me 'baby'.

I hear the sound of the shower door opening and soon Charles' hands are resting on my waist and his lips are pressing against my shoulder. I smile tilting my head to the side.

"You're washing me off yourself already?"

"I was hoping you'd come." I turn to face him wrapping my arms around his neck. He leans in to kiss me only this time slowly and gently. "Can I ask you something?" I ask and he nods. "Are you drunk?" He chuckles at my somewhat funny question. It was clear to me that he couldn't get drunk from 3 cans of beer, I just wanted to check how aware he was of our actions. I wanted to get out of him how he felt about this, I wanted him to tell me something, even though at the same time I was afraid of what I would hear. I didn't want anything to ruin these moments, even though I was very curious and impatient.

"Drunk off of you only." I blush leaning my head into the crook of his neck, but he sensed what I was getting at. "Let's not think about anything and enjoy the moment, okay?" He presses a kiss to my forehead and I feel relieved although on the verge of overthinking this.

"Are you tired?" He asks quietly against the skin of my neck.

"A little bit." I gasp letting my eyes close. "Why?" Just as I asked the question, I felt him slowly pressing himself against me.

"Because I can't get enough of you." His tonuge slides over my bottom lip asking for permission and I let him in without any hesitation. "I want to hear you moan my name again." He says into my ear abruptly turning me around and pressing me against the shower wall. He pushes himself inside of me and starts thrusting in and out again further and further.

"Charles.." The slapping of our wet skin echoed throughout the bathroom.

"How are you so tight, fuck.." His pace picked up and I could feel both of us were close. "I'm close baby, I'm not gonna last long."

My back was arched and I held onto the glass with my palms. Soon my legs started shaking and his hips stuttering against me as we both finished at the same time. The moans filled the small space inside the shower as we were coming down from our highs. I was so weak, the strength in my legs long gone I would've fallen down if he hadn't held me.

"Are you okay? Talk to me." He asks gently caressing my cheek.

"I am." I smile assuring him with a kiss. "Let's take a shower and go to bed okay?"

"Okay."

After we showered and dried off with towels, we went to my room and got into bed. Neither of us said anything, he just pulled me close and held me tight around the waist as if I was going to run away any second. There wasn't even any need to say anything. Being in his arms, feeling his breathing on my skin felt so safe, so intimate that I wished this would never end.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris

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pastryfication · 11 months ago

Note

Hey hey hey! So, I was wondering if you could work your magic on this request? We all know Oscar LOVES sleeping whenever he can but what if he has a girlfriend with quite frequent insomnia such as moi? Maybe the piece could be about him searching for all kinds of serious and wacky methods to help her sleep - white noise, sound apps, black out blinds, counting actual sheep, a cold bedroom etc and eventually something so simple such as snuggling together after he's washed her hair or something soppy works? Thank you, you're an angel!

thank u for the request!! i hope i did it justice but i have no idea how insomnia works so feel free to correct me if i’ve written something wrong 🫶

5 things that didn’t help you sleep and the 1 thing that actually did | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x insomniac!reader

warnings: mentions of insomnia and the use of melatonin

oscar piastri treasures every moment of sleep he can get. cuddling up under the covers, catching up on much-needed rest between races, training sessions and team meetings is his sanctuary, a place where he can recharge. it’s entirely different for you. sleep often feels elusive, insomnia visits you regularly, and after trying to take melatonin, you feel like there truly must be something wrong with you when you’re still left you tossing and turning while oscar dozes peacefully beside you.

one particularly restless night, as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, you decide you’ve had enough. oscar, sensing your frustration, turns over and looks at you with sleepy but concerned eyes.

“another bad night?” he asks softly, voice groggy.

you nod, feeling guilty for disturbing his rest. “i just can’t seem to fall asleep.”

determined to help you find the peace he enjoys so effortlessly, oscar spends the next day researching every possible solution for insomnia, and he ends up with a list. 5 things that have helped others who are suffering from the same problem, and over the next few weeks, he convinced you to try it all, hoping to find the one thing that will finally help you sleep.

1. white noise

the first thing he tries is white noise. researching the best possible brand, he buys a white sound machine and sets it to a gentle hum when you go to sleep one night. the constant noise fills the room, creating a soothing background sound and drowning out any distractions.

it’s nice to lay and listen to, and at first, you think it might work. you close your eyes, snuggle into the covers to find the best position and takes oscar’s hand in yours.

you try, you really do try your best, to let the sound lull you to sleep. everything is nice and calm, but after a few nights, it’s clear that the constant noise only makes you more restless. you lie awake, feeling like you’re trapped in a static-filled void, and you just want to cry.

2. sound apps

oscar is quick to notice your disappointment, and he therefore quickly moves on to the next point on the list.

he downloads several sound apps on his phone, experimenting with everything from rainstorms to ocean waves to forest sounds. he tries different combinations, adjusting the volume and mixing the sounds in various ways, bringing out his inner dj to make you as comfortable as possible.

you appreciate the effort, but none of the sounds seem to do the trick. you lie awake, feeling more like you’re in a nature documentary than trying to sleep. the sounds that are supposed to be calming just keep you more alert, your mind unable to quiet down.

3. blackout blinds

oscar then orders blackout blinds, thinking that maybe the slightest hint of light is the culprit.

the blinds plunge the room into complete darkness, blocking out any external light. at first, you think it might work. the darkness is comforting and you hope it will help you relax, but instead of soothing you, the darkness feels oppressive. you lie there, eyes wide open, feeling the walls close in. the complete absence of light only makes you nervous and the two of you quickly have to give up on that as well.

4. counting sheep

you insisted that counting sheep was silly. there was no way it was going to work and you told oscar exactly that. he didn’t agree though, and with the use of his best puppy eyes, he convinced you to try.

he decides to buy a small stuffed sheep and as you lie in bed one night, he starts an impromptu counting session. you giggle at the sight of him hopping the little sheep across the bed.

“i don’t think this is gonna work.” you hold back a laugh as he makes the sheep take a particularly long jump across your duvet.

“not even if he gives you a little kiss?” he asks, holding back his own giggle as he moves up to you on the bed, making the sheep “kiss” you all over your stomach.

you laugh at the ticklish sensation, and the two of you have to realise that the sheep counting feels more like a silly game than a serious attempt to help you sleep.

5. a cold bedroom

the last thing on oscar’s quickly disappearing list is sleeping in a cold room.

to make that happen, he insists on making the bedroom as cold as a freezer. he cranks up the air conditioning and piles extra blankets on the bed so you don’t freeze to death.

the room quickly becomes chilly, and you snuggle under the covers, head on oscar’s chest as his arms snake around you, trying to regain some body heat. you’re really hoping the cold will help you relax, but you find yourself shivering more than drifting off. the cold air makes you uncomfortable, and instead of helping, it only adds to your restlessness.

the 1 thing that actually did help

after trying numerous different methods, you’re ready to just give up.

“maybe i should go to the doctors,” you eventually suggest. you wish the problem would go away by itself, but it doesn’t seem like it will.

oscar finds himself running out of ideas too, until something dawns to him one night when he’s on facetime with his mom.

entering your bedroom with a book clutched tightly in his hand, you raise an eyebrow at him. “so mom just left to read to read my sister a bed time story, and i thought: why don’t i read to you as well?” he suggests.

you raise an eyebrow, skeptical at the suggestion but at this point you’re willing to try anything.

oscar shuffles across the bed, helping you adjust so your head is pressed against his thigh as he begins to read. his voice soft and steady, keeping a calm pace to his words and you can’t deny that it’s nice.

he plays with your hair as he reads, gently running his fingers through the strands and massaging your scalp. the combination of his calming voice and the soothing sensation of his touch begins to work its magic.

you feel your body relax, the tension melting away. his words become a comforting background noise and his fingers in your hair provide a gentle, rhythmic motion. for the first time in what feels like ages, you feel yourself drifting off, your eyelids growing heavy.

oscar continues reading until he hears your breathing deepen and become steady. he smiles, closing the book quietly and turning off the light, but he doesn’t move, terrified to wake you after you’ve finally found the peace you desperately needed.

sitting against the headboard starts hurting his back, but he still stays beside you, his hand continuously playing with your hair, ensuring you stay asleep.

as the nights go by, oscar’s bedtime stories and hair-playing become your new routine. you find yourself looking forward to bedtime, knowing that sleep is no longer a battle but a peaceful journey.

in the end, it’s not the gadgets or apps that help you sleep, but instead oscar’s gentle presence and unwavering support. his love is your ultimate lullaby, guiding you into the restful sleep you’ve been longing for.

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chilling-seavey · 17 days ago

Text

Lessons in Lust and Other Illicit Desires (gr63) —NINETEEN

↳ A/N I love love love writing Lando in any and all universes <3

↳ Series Summary: Sensible, wise, and a hopeless dreamer, Rosaline was used to men not giving her a second glance. She soon discovered it was merely those mundane college boys who were nothing more than simply intimidated by her intellect. What she needed was a man — someone who could impart knowledge beyond the Classics and guide her in discovering her own confidence as a woman. The thrill of sneaking around with the ever-so-charmingly handsome Professor Russell was certainly a bonus.

↳ Pairings: OxfordProfessor!George Russell x Innocent!Student!OC, Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc (background)

↳ Chapter Word Count: 4.1k

↳ Chapter Warnings: 18+, protected sex, minor mentions of pain but he's gentle, some begging, dirty talk, minor choking, praise, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, oh and lying <3

Rosaline vastly underestimated how easy it would be to coerce Lando Norris into asking her out. She couldn’t think of a single other time where her attempt at flirting successfully landed her a guy—in fact, her track record showed that it caused guys to run in the complete opposite direction—so, to be frank, she had zero hope going into this plan. Maybe Lando was just immensely easy or desperate or something to ask her out after only two arm touches and one doubled-over laugh at his joke that wasn’t even that funny. Maybe she had been learning a lot more from George than she had anticipated. Regardless, it made her plan a whole lot easier so who was she to complain.

On Sunday afternoon, Rosaline stood outside her dormitory building, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she waited for Lando to pick her up. They had agreed on 1:00, but as the minutes crept past 1:15 with no sign of him, she exhaled sharply, glancing down the empty stretch of road. Never had she known Lando to be on time for anything so, really, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Plus, what was a few minutes when at least this time, going out with one of her peers, she didn’t have to take the bus just to be inconspicuous.

Not long later, an all-black Mini Cooper pulled through the gated entrance of the dormitory quad, windows down, music blasting, earning a few glances from other students walking the grounds. With his arm resting half out of the car window and an embarrassingly orange cap sitting backwards over his usual unruly curls, Lando slowed to a stop at the curb, nudging his sunglasses down his nose to offer her a grinning smile.

“Hello,” he greeted simply.

“Hi,” Rosaline snorted, “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

“I try.” he then cocked his head, “Hop in.”

Rosaline helped herself to the passenger side of his car and she barely got herself buckled before Lando was peeling off through gates to loop back around to the main roads of Oxford. She was thrown back in her seat a little at the force and she gasped softly in surprise. Lando seemed perfectly unbothered as he sang along casually to the music playing.

He was a safe driver, Rosaline noted, but he did have a tendency to speed, maneuvering his car through the narrow streets like it was another extension of himself. She had come to realize that everything with Lando felt so fast and she couldn’t help but compare him to the seemingly gracefulness of George; poised, polished, precise. Even their cars reflected who they were in a way—Lando’s sporty black Mini Cooper to George’s classy white Mercedes—polar opposites.

After a moment of silence in the front seat, Rosaline decided to spark up a conversation, “So, this is your car?”

“Yeah. Mint, right?” Lando reached forward to turn down the music as he drove, “Saved up some money from streaming to afford it. Decked it all out with black rims…tinted windows…everything. Gangsta.”

Rosaline chuckled half-sarcastically, “Oh, yeah, for sure. ‘Gangsta’ is the first word that comes to mind when I think of you.”

Lando shot her a playful grin, “Aw, you think of me?”

“Shut up.” she snorted with a shake of her head.

When Lando drifted to a stop at an intersection and looked both ways in anticipation to make a turn, she eyed the symbol on the front of his cap that had been hidden with how he had been wearing it backwards. It looked familiar and she thought back to that one Sunday at George’s house where he introduced her to Formula 1 and walked her through some of the teams.

Knowing the importance of appearing involved and interested on a date, Rosaline stated, “Your hat—is that the logo of that F1 team you like?”

“Yeah! McLaren.” As he drove, Lando reached up to swing the cap around so it was facing forward and he pointed to the embroidered ‘81’ on the brim and the scribbly signature alongside it, “Signed by Oscar Piastri too. I got him to sign it when I went to Silverstone one year…got up freaking early to be at the front of the gates and everything. It’s, like, my most prized possession.”

“More than your car?” she challenged playfully.

Lando laughed, “Yes. Until one day Oscar can sign my car. Hopefully then I’ll have a McLaren F1 of my own.”

Clueless to exactly what he meant, Rosaline replied casually, “I dunno if you can drive F1 cars on the roads, can you?”

“Oh my God,” his voice went up two octaves and he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips in utterly amused disbelief, “McLaren F1 is the style of roadcar. It’s not…a Formula 1 race car. Although that’d be sick.”

“Oh, God, don’t tell my friends I’m this clueless. They’ll never let me live it down.”

Lando turned his cap back around with a quick flirty smile in her direction, “Your secret is safe with me.”

He had insisted on taking her to play mini golf at this establishment just outside of the city; it was a frequent spot for the university students and something much more fun than just sitting and sharing a meal for a first date. It was a very Lando venue too, Rosaline thought, as the whole course was glow-in-the-dark and everything was neon and vibrant and the holes were made up of some of the most crazy obstacles she had ever seen. She never thought it was possible for Lando’s orange hat to be any brighter but it nearly glowed under the lights of the course, making it impossible to lose him.

Although she didn’t want to be on a date with Lando, it was hard to deny that he wasn’t fun to spend time with and for the duration of their mini golf game, it really felt like she was spending time with a good friend. She had been incredibly reluctant when they were paired up for the project in George’s class but as they were forced to spend time together to complete it, she found herself enjoying his company. He was fun. Curse forced proximity and how it always seemed to know just when to come into play.

They spent two hours navigating the themed mini golf courses and definitely bent the rules more often than they followed them, neither of them taking it too seriously. Lando often hopped along the curbs and stumbled over props as he tried to get out of the way of Rosaline’s putts, definitely earning him a few warnings from the employees to ‘please be careful’. It was impossible to stay too focused when he was treating the game like a playground, but she had to admit—it made the afternoon more fun than she’d expected.

Somehow, she managed to beat him as they tallied up their scores at the end of the course and he claimed it was because he was better at normal golf than mini golf…and that he had been going easy on her. She didn’t quite believe either statement but she played along for his sake.

Once they had returned their putters and neon golf balls and emerged out into the bright afternoon light to head back to his car, they were walking an ounce closer to each other than they had been earlier, sharing rambunctious laughter over something or another. It was easy to be swayed by Lando’s youthful rowdiness, joining him in his glee and dramatics, hands flailing and stories exaggerated and volume loud as if he never minded being the centre of attention.

They ended up at some pizza place nearby, sitting at a table for two with a sizable pie between them and each with a large fountain drink. Lando leaned over as he took a massive bite of his first slice, half the toppings falling off and back into the box.

“Ew!” Rosaline laughed.

Lando nearly choked on his humongous bite through his laughter, speaking through his mouthful, “I’m trying to see what’s the smallest number of bites I can take.”

Rosaline chuckled and unlocked her phone and opened Instagram before directing her camera at him, “Smile!”

His eyes scrunched at the corners as he offered her a toothy grin through his next bite, tomato sauce in the corners of his mouth, and a few stray curls escaping from the space above the clasp of his orange cap. She snapped the picture and then tagged Lando’s account and added a gif of (whom she assumed was) Oscar Piastri in a matching orange race suit giving a thumbs up. She posted it to her story and silently swore she could totally be part of a successful PR relationship if she really wanted to. She was going to have people fooled. She set her phone aside on the table and then leaned in to grab a slice for herself.

Lando raised an eyebrow, seemingly unaware of the sauce in the corner of his mouth, “Did you just post that?”

“Yep,” Rosaline smirked, “I even tagged you.”

“Wow, instagram official on the first date. That’s serious.” Lando hummed playfully, “I feel honored. You don’t give me the vibes of a girl who posts about a guy unless it’s serious.”

Rosaline hesitated for a fraction of a second before playing along with a small chuckle, “My gosh, well it’s not like I posted anything incriminating or racy. It’s just you eating pizza.”

“Mhm,” Lando reached for his drink and took a lengthy sip before setting it back down and asking, “So what was the deal with that mystery guy your friends were talking about the other day in the library? Are you, like, broken up then?”

Rosaline almost choked on her bite of pizza at the unexpected question. She swallowed roughly and reached for her drink to wash it down with a hoarse, “What?”

Lando shrugged, completely unaware of the way her stomach flipped, “That day in the library when we were working on the project—your friends were grilling you about some guy. They seemed pretty intense about it.”

“Oh,” Rosaline forced a laugh despite her downset gaze, waving it off, “They were just being dramatic.”

He was watching her as he took another bite, speaking through it, “But there was someone then?”

“I mean, kind of? It wasn’t really a thing.”

“Damn, so I’m the rebound?” he teased, nudging her foot under the table.

She nudged him back with a small smile, “Hardly.”

There was a pause before he added more seriously, “But, like…you’re over him or whatever, right?”

The question caught her off guard. She had never been a wonderful liar but she had written liars enough to hopefully be able to get by; not too dismissive to appear suspicious but not too sentimental either. So she gave a nonchalant shrug as she lifted her drink with a simple but effective, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

��Fair enough,” Lando let out a small laugh, smiling through his next bite, and then shrugged, “His loss then.”

She offered a barely audible “Yeah” in reply.

The rest of their dinner progressed smoothly and once the pizza was finished and their drinks were empty and the excitement after a long afternoon had started to fizzle, the date seemed to reach its natural conclusion.

Lando stretched his arms above his head and then let them fall back against the tabletop with a sigh, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to run to the toilet before we leave,” Rosaline said as she got up from her chair, “Be right back.”

As she had her moment of privacy in the washroom of the restaurant, her mind was whirling with the realization that the date had gone so well. Outside of George, this was her first date with someone her age and the fact that she had gone through the entire process from formulation to completion arguably all on her own merit filled her with this sense of pride. And she had enjoyed it. Sure, she took it more as a friendly hangout than a date but a win was a win.

She returned to their table and Lando was slouched back in his seat, glancing at her as she approached. She picked up her phone from the table top and took her purse from the back of her chair to drape it over her shoulder, “Okay, all set.”

“Okay,” Lando rose from his seat and slid on his sunglasses as he led the way to the door.

The bell above the door tinked as they stepped out into the late afternoon sun and Rosaline followed behind him into the parking lot. She checked her notifications on the way, seeing a text from George front and centre:

G: I hope it’s going well today. I know you don’t want to be out with him but it’s just to keep the suspicions away from us 🤍 Come round to mine after and I’ll help you forget all about it xx

Lando unlocked his car and glanced back at her as if to make sure she was still following as she typed out a quick reply:

-It’s been nice. I’ll have him drop me on campus and head over to yours xx

Sliding her phone into her purse, she opened the passenger side door of the car and climbed in. Lando turned the key in the ignition and fiddled with the Bluetooth for a minute before his music started playing again.

“I’ll drop you back at Pembroke then?” he asked as he backed out of the parking spot.

“Actually, if you could drop me off at Worcester College, that’d be great. I’m meeting a friend.” Rosaline asked casually.

“Yeah, sure.”

They drove in calm silence to nothing but the sound of Lando’s music playing through the speakers, the windows down and Rosaline’s hair flying around her head. She was itching to get to George’s to tell him all about it, especially since she hadn’t seen him in a few days and she was itching for something else too. Worcester College was only a few blocks from his street so it wouldn’t be too much of a trek to get to his house and Lando would be none the wiser.

As he pulled up into the gates of the College on the westernly outskirts of the city, Rosaline gathered her purse, “I had a really lovely day. Thank you.”

“Me too,” Lando offered, sending her a tame smile once he parked by the curb.

She reached for the door handle, “See you on Tuesday?”

“Yep, see you then.”

In a fit of bravery, Rosaline leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek…just to play the part. Before he could reply, she was opening the door and climbing out and shutting it behind her. He leaned over to give her a final goodbye before pulling away from the curb and she waved after him, lingering there until she was sure he was out of sight, and then she turned on her heel and walked right back out the college gates.

If George could taste the strong tinge of Lando’s aftershave on her lips, he didn’t speak to it. Or, rather, there was no space to speak to it as her feverish kisses she planted on him the moment she walked in the door rendered him mute. She was a woman on a mission and more than desperate to take him up on his offer to help her forget all about it. And he was more than willing to do just that.

They ended up on his living room couch, bathed in the late afternoon sun through the front windows, a tangle of limbs and lips and lingering touches and pulls on clothes. It had been a week since she had given him her virginity and six days since they had last had sex; to say Rosaline was starving for it would be an understatement. As clothes were shed, George pulled away from her swollen lips just long enough to run upstairs to grab the new box of condoms he bought, taking the stairs two at a time while she waited [im]patiently on the couch.

The second he returned and set the twenty-four pack on the coffee table, he had already taken one out of the box and was leaning down to kiss her again before he even sat back down. Clothes littered the living room, tossed blindly to the rug or across the floor to the chair in the corner, stripping them both down to comfortable nudity between tongue-led kisses before he was easing her flat onto the couch.

Rosaline couldn’t help but giggle up at him as she got herself comfortable with her head on one of the cushions against the arm of the couch, watching how he ripped open the condom wrapped to hurriedly put it on. Her sweet sound had him glancing down at her with that polite, handsome smile of his, despite the way his eyes were dilated with lust all for her. She could never get enough of the way he looked at her; she swore that no one else ever looked at her that way, not even Lando.

George nudged her legs apart and shuffled a little closer, one foot anchoring him on the living room rug with his other knee bent on the seat of the couch to angle himself properly. She could feel those familiar butterflies in the pit of her stomach as he situated them into position, how he took control to make sure she was where he needed her and where she was comfortable.

Their eyes locked as he leaned down over top of her with one hand firmly on the arm of the couch and the other between their bodies to help guide the head of his cock between her legs. He pressed into her slowly, cautiously, and his eyes moved all over her face as if he were reading her every minute expression, especially as her fingers pressed into his biceps and her breath hitched. After almost a week of going without, it ached again to accept him all, but he kissed over her cheeks and her lips and her nose and she breathed through it as he treated her like porcelain.

“There we go…” George breathed comfortingly, his voice tinged with the effort of holding himself back, “Nice and slow…that’s it…”

Rosaline let out a little hum, eyes fluttering shut, her hands splaying across his back to hold him close as he filled her completely. Despite the slight ache, it was still much easier than the first time and almost right away she was giving him the go-ahead to start to move. He sealed the agreement with a kiss as he started to roll his hips against hers in precise, curling motions that had her fingers pressing into the muscle of his back.

“Mmph, fuck, please—” she stumbled out.

His eyes locked on hers as he made love to her on his living room couch, turning her brain to mush so the only name on her lips was his. They kissed sloppily like that, tangled together and desperate for pleasure from the other, and when George sped up a little more, she certainly didn’t complain.

Her head arched back against the arm of the couch with a pretty whine, legs parting wider until she could get them wrapped around his waist, needily pulling him closer, deeper, anything. He was the only one who could satisfy that hunger within her. She just kept breathlessly asking for more like she was insatiable, wanting every ounce of him to herself until everything else fell away. And he kept asking ‘are you sure’ like she was too precious, too delicate, and he dared not hurt her.

Rosaline trusted him more than anyone else in the world, happily giving her everything to him and trusting him to give everything back in return. She trusted him to get a little rough with her until her fingers were scratching across his shoulder blades and she was crying out to his living room ceiling through a messy chant of ‘yes, yes, yes’. His breath was hot against her neck, tied in with handsome muffled grunts of pleasure as he took her as she so desired, and, beside her head, his hand found a white knuckled grip of the arm of the couch to hold himself upright.

She stared up into his eyes like that, filled with pleasure she never before knew possible, taking his every firm thrust with eager encouragement; little nods, sweet sounds, anything to keep him going, knowing that she was enjoying it. Then, as if speaking behind her natural filter that was hazed by pleasure, her mouth formed words in a barely audible breath, “Please come inside me.”

Of course, they both knew he was wearing a condom but the concept of him claiming her without felt all the more shiver-worthy. George moaned warmly above her, “Yeah? You want that, darling?”

“Fuck, uh huh,” Rosaline whimpered, clutching onto him tighter as she stared up into his steadfast gaze, “Please gimme it. I won’t tell anyone.”

Something flashed in George’s eyes, something full of want, like she had reached into his very soul and grasped onto something he had been trying so hard to push down for her sake. And then, knowing how she’d liked it before, he wrapped his fingers around her throat, just barely squeezing, and he spoke down to her, “You won’t tell anyone? You’ll be a good fucking girl for me then?”

Her eyes fluttered as his large hand found its home around her throat, “Yeah…please, sir.”

“Yeah, you will,” George groaned out tightly.

He barely made it a few more thrusts before he released hard into the condom, burying himself as deep inside her so she could feel every inch of him throbbing against her tight muscles as she clutched onto him. Rosaline’s lips parted in a silent breath at the feeling, eyebrows furrowed slightly in the middle, trying to imagine how feeling him naturally would feel. She couldn’t get too ahead of herself.

She barely had a second to blink herself back to reality before he was easing out of her and slipping off the side of the couch so he was keeling on the rug, clammy hands wrapping around her thighs and yanking her closer to the edge so he could lean down and get his mouth on her. More sensitive than anything, the simple touch of his tongue against her aching clit and the warmth of his slightly breathless pants had her back arching off the couch and a gasp tearing itself from her lungs almost completely involuntarily. Her fingers pressed into the expensive leather upholstery while George slid three fingers into his mouth to moisten before sinking them inside her, just to keep her stimulated with a nice bit of stretch.

“Yeah…” she whimpered as he started to thrust his fingers inside her in short, precise little jabs while his tongue lapped purposefully at her clit. She dropped a hand down to rake through his hair, tugging on the roots as if to equal parts pull him closer and push him away.

He made her come in no time, almost like he was an expert of her body, groaning against her cunt as she creamed around his fingers and he cleaned her up with his tongue. It felt like fire was pouring through her veins and her thighs trembled with the influx of waves of pleasure tearing through her. She genuinely smiled to the ceiling through it, fingers tight in his hair like she never wanted to let him go.

When she was pleasantly finished, they took a second to catch their breaths. George was still kneeling on the floor and had rested his cheek against her thigh while she stayed splayed out over the couch with her arm draped across her forehead, chests heaving. After a moment, he kissed her knee and looked up at her and when she glanced down to meet his gaze, they shared soft smiles.

George then asked a cheeky, “So…how was the date?”

They had barely even spoken a proper word to each other since she had stepped over the threshold, much preferring to make up for their six days of lost time instead. So, now, satisfied and spent, she let out a soft laugh and answered, “It was fine. I beat him at mini golf.”

Through a proud smile, he gave her calf a squeeze, “That’s my girl.”

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jhyoos · 5 months ago

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REBEL GIRL

Chapter 3: Party Like A Rockstar

rockstar!sevika x influencer!reader

summary: after their first concert of Shattered Soul’s tour, they go clubbing to celebrate.

mentions : modern au!, fame au!, drama, swearing, drinking

notes: just like sevika’s ass it’s finna be juicy.

chapters : one, two, three, four, five six

The long drive wasn’t something you minded—at first, anyway. You had your headphones in, your laptop balanced on your lap, and hours of video footage to edit for your YouTube channel. Outside the bus, the world blurred into a mosaic of green fields, dusty highways, and faded billboards. Inside, the faint hum of conversation mixed with the occasional strum of Vi’s guitar and Jinx’s rhythmic drumming on a nearby table. Caitlyn was curled up in a seat, scribbling in her notebook, and Sevika lounged across from you, headphones on, looking completely unbothered.

It was the perfect setting for productivity, or so you thought.

With your playlist drowning out the background noise, you fell into your editing zone. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you adjusted lighting, spliced clips, and refined transitions for a vlog you planned to post soon. The soothing rhythm of your work almost made you forget where you were—until the interruptions started.

At first, it was harmless. Vi, clearly bored, reached over to tap the edge of your keyboard, grinning when you swatted her hand away. A few minutes later, Caitlyn leaned in under the guise of offering input, only to give a mock-serious nod and say, “Looks good to me,” before retreating to her seat with a laugh. Then Jinx decided to get involved, leaning dramatically over your shoulder to narrate your edits in an over-the-top announcer voice:

“And here we see Y/N, hard at work, crafting what is sure to be a masterpiece… unless her genius is interrupted!”

You shot her a glare, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your annoyance.

It became a game to them—a cycle of pokes, prods, and sarcastic commentary. Each of them took turns testing your patience, like some unspoken competition to see who could get the biggest reaction out of you.

And then Sevika stepped in.

You were mid-edit, headphones on, completely focused on syncing a transition when your screen suddenly went black.

“What the hell?” You ripped off your headphones, your heart sinking as you stared at the blank laptop screen. Slowly, you turned to face the culprit.

Sevika stood beside you, her arms crossed and a cocky smirk plastered across her face. “You’ve been glued to that thing for hours,” she said casually, her tone infuriatingly calm. “Thought I’d do you a favor.”

“A favor?” Your voice pitched with disbelief. “By shutting off my laptop? Are you out of your mind?”

The rest of the band erupted into laughter. Vi was practically rolling on the floor, Jinx clutched her sides, and Caitlyn tried—and failed—to cover her amused grin.

“Oh, real funny,” you snapped, glaring at them. “Glad my mental breakdown is such quality entertainment for you.”

“Relax,” Sevika said, her smirk never faltering. “You can always start over.”

You stood abruptly, clutching your laptop like it was your lifeline. “If any of you touch my computer again, I swear I’m locking your equipment up and throwing the key into the nearest ditch.”

“Alright, alright,” Caitlyn said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “We’ll back off… for now.”

You glared at all of them one more time before sitting back down, muttering under your breath as you reopened your laptop and prayed your unsaved work wasn’t lost forever.

The venue buzzed with excitement that night, the air charged with the hum of anticipation. You hung back as the band prepared for their set, observing the chaos of pre-show rituals. Jinx and Caitlyn exchanged last-minute quips while Vi strummed her guitar, testing the tuning.

And Sevika?

She was leaning casually against a wall backstage, surrounded by a small group of fans who’d somehow gained access. They hung on her every word, their laughter ringing out as she threw them that trademark smirk. She signed autographs, posed for pictures, and slipped in the kind of flirtatious comments that made their faces light up.

You rolled your eyes, trying to focus on anything else. It was the same routine every time—a parade of adoration that Sevika basked in like a queen holding court.

“Think they’ll ever get tired of her?” Caitlyn asked, sidling up beside you.

“Doubtful,” you replied, crossing your arms. “She eats this stuff up.”

Caitlyn chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, try not to let it ruin your night. Just enjoy the show.”

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, casting one last glance at Sevika as she laughed at something one of the fans said. Her gaze flicked to you then, catching your eye. Her smirk widened, a knowing gleam in her eye as if she’d caught you watching.

You scoffed and turned away, determined not to let her get under your skin. But as the band was called to the stage, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Sevika enjoyed the game just as much as you did.

The concert was, as expected, electric. The moment Vi stepped onto the stage and shouted her opening line, the crowd erupted. The energy was infectious, the music pounding through your chest as the band launched into their first song. You watched from the edge of the stage, half mesmerized by the sheer power they commanded.

Vi owned the stage, alternating between singing her heart out and shredding her guitar with practiced ease. Caitlyn’s keyboard melodies added depth to every track, while Jinx’s drumming was a chaotic yet perfectly timed rhythm that tied it all together. Sevika, as always, stole the show during her guitar solos. The way her fingers danced across the strings sent the crowd into a frenzy, and you couldn’t deny that she had a magnetic presence, even if you rolled your eyes at it more often than not.

As the concert reached its climax, the energy in the room soared. Fans screamed the lyrics back at Vi, fists pumping in unison, and the stage lights bathed the entire venue in a kaleidoscope of colors. You couldn’t help but get swept up in it, bobbing your head and mouthing along to the words of songs you’d become all too familiar with.

When the last note rang out, the applause was deafening. Vi grinned as she leaned into the mic, her voice hoarse but full of excitement. “Thank you, LA! You’ve been amazing tonight!”

The band exited the stage to thunderous cheers, and you joined them backstage, where the energy was still high. Jinx whooped loudly, throwing her drumsticks in the air and catching them before spinning to hug Caitlyn, who laughed and dodged the full brunt of Jinx’s excitement.

“That was insane!” Jinx exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Best crowd yet!”

“Easily,” Caitlyn agreed, still grinning.

Vi slung an arm around Sevika’s shoulders, her expression smug. “We crushed it tonight.”

“Always do,” Sevika replied coolly, though her slight smirk gave away her satisfaction.

You hung back slightly, letting the band revel in their success. It was a reminder of why they were so good together—the chemistry, the camaraderie. Even Sevika’s cocky demeanor felt earned after a performance like that.

“So,” Vi said, turning to the group with a mischievous glint in her eye. “What’s next? We’re in LA, the night’s young… I say we hit the club.”

Jinx’s eyes lit up. “Hell yeah! Let’s do it!”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, though her lips twitched in amusement. “You’ve still got adrenaline to burn off, don’t you?”

Vi turned to you then, a challenging smile on her face. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. On one hand, clubbing with a rock band wasn’t exactly your usual scene. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny that the idea of letting loose after the day you’d had sounded… tempting.

“Why not?” you finally said, shrugging. “Someone’s gotta make sure Jinx doesn’t end up on top of the bar.”

“Hey!” Jinx protested, though her grin said she wasn’t offended.

Vi laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Alright, people, let’s get to our hotel, change and get fucked up. Tonight’s gonna be one to remember.”

As the band dispersed to grab their things, you found yourself lingering near the stage exit. Sevika walked past, her smirk firmly in place as she tilted her head toward you.

“You clean up alright?” she teased, her tone playful.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” you replied smoothly, matching her confidence.

Her smirk widened, but she didn’t respond, leaving you with a curious flutter in your chest as she sauntered off.

This night was definitely going to be interesting.

As soon as you and Caitlyn got back to the hotel, the two of you dove into your suitcases, rummaging through outfit after outfit for the perfect look. Clubbing in LA wasn’t just a night out—it was a statement. Caitlyn settled on a sleek, black jumpsuit paired with combat boots, her look effortlessly cool as always.

You, on the other hand, had your sights set on something bold. After trying a few options, your eyes landed on the black strappy top, leather skirt, thigh-high stockings, and platform boots tucked away in your suitcase. Once you slipped it on and adjusted the straps to fit just right, Caitlyn gave you an approving whistle.

“Well, someone’s definitely turning heads tonight,” she teased, leaning against the bedpost.

You smirked at your reflection in the mirror, turning slightly to check the back. “You think?”

“Oh, I know. Sevika is going to lose it when she sees this.”

The two of you finished getting ready, sharing excited chatter about the night ahead. Instead of drawing attention by taking the tour bus, the group decided to order an Uber Black to keep things low-key—or so you thought.

As the sleek black SUV pulled up to the club, the flashing lights of cameras and the deafening screams of fans made it clear that your “low-key” plan was a bust. Paparazzi swarmed the car before you could even step out, their flashes illuminating the night as fans shouted your name and the band members’ names.

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” Caitlyn murmured, adjusting her sunglasses even though it was well past sunset.

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied, stepping out with confidence. “We’re here to have fun.”

And fun you had.

Inside the club, the atmosphere was electric. The music thumped loudly enough to vibrate through your chest, and the neon lights bathed the entire room in vibrant shades of pink, blue, and green. You didn’t waste any time, heading straight to the bar with the group to take your first round of shots.

One shot turned into three, then four, and by the fifth, you were officially buzzed. The band laughed and cheered, hyping each other up as you all took turns ordering rounds. Vi was the first to drag everyone onto the dance floor, her infectious energy pulling you into the mix.

By the time the DJ transitioned to My Chemical Romance, your confidence had hit its peak. You climbed onto the table without hesitation, mic in hand as you sang along to every word. The crowd around you roared their approval, and even the DJ gave you a grin and a thumbs-up.

“Careful,” Sevika murmured behind you, her large hand steadying your waist. She stood close, her presence grounding you even as you swayed to the music.

“I’ve got this,” you replied with a playful wink, though you appreciated the gesture.

Fans in the crowd snapped photos of the moment, flooding social media with hashtags and captions speculating about the dynamic between you and Sevika. It wasn’t long before the night took a dramatic turn.

The energy in the club reached a fever pitch, and you were right in the middle of it all. Standing on the table, your confidence amplified by the shots coursing through your veins, you swayed to the music, your arms raised as you sang along to the DJ's playlist. The crowd below cheered, their phones raised to capture the moment, flashes lighting up the space like strobes.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Sevika making her way toward you, her towering frame cutting through the throng of people with ease. She didn’t look impressed—her brows furrowed, her jaw tight. When she finally reached you, she wasted no time, her large hands gripping your waist firmly.

“Alright, come down before you hurt yourself,” she said, her voice low but commanding as she steadied you.

You groaned, pouting down at her. “I’m fine, Sevika. Seriously. Let me have my fun!”

Sevika raised an unimpressed brow, her hold on your waist unwavering. “You might not care, but I do. Now, down.”

You huffed but allowed her to guide you down, her hands staying securely on your waist until your boots hit the floor. The warmth of her touch lingered, and you couldn’t resist teasing her, even as you stumbled slightly.

“When did you get so caring?” you asked with a smirk, brushing your hair out of your face.

Sevika’s lips twitched, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “You’ve had enough of the spotlight for tonight. Now behave.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You’re no fun.” With that, you headed back to the bar, brushing off the attention as you ordered yet another shot, determined to keep the night alive.

As the hours wore on, the club became impossibly packed. Word of you and your friend’s presence had spread like wildfire, and the space was now teeming with fans trying to catch a glimpse of the band. The once vibrant atmosphere now felt claustrophobic.

Caitlyn, ever the level-headed one, noticed the shift and knew it was time to call it a night. She signaled to the group, her phone in hand as she ordered a car. “Alright, let’s get out of here before this gets out of control.”

Reluctantly, everyone began to gather, though it was clear the alcohol had taken its toll. You were more than a little drunk, laughing at everything and swaying slightly as Sevika grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd. Paparazzi swarmed the group the moment you stepped outside, their cameras flashing like fireworks.

While the others kept their heads down, trying to maneuver through the chaos, you basked in the attention, smiling and waving despite Caitlyn’s exasperated look. “Y/N, keep moving!” she called over her shoulder.

You giggled, letting Sevika tug you along. Her grip on your hand was firm, grounding you as the two of you finally made it to the car. When you climbed in, it was immediately clear there weren’t enough seats for everyone. Caitlyn took the passenger seat while the others crammed into the back.

“You’re on my lap,” Sevika said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t hesitate, settling onto her lap with surprising ease. You leaned your head against the back of the passenger seat, closing your eyes as the gentle hum of the car lulled you into a daze. Sevika’s hands rested lightly on your waist, her touch oddly comforting. You didn’t care—your drunken state left little room for embarrassment.

The others were loud, laughing and joking as the car sped toward the hotel. Vi was hanging halfway out of the window, yelling into the night, while Jinx snapped blurry pictures on her phone. Caitlyn, ever the responsible one, shook her head at their antics but couldn’t hide her small smile.

When the car finally pulled up to the hotel, Caitlyn took charge, helping everyone out one by one. You leaned heavily against her as she guided you to your room, her patience unwavering despite your drunken giggles.

She eased you onto the bed, pulling off your boots and tucking you in before lying down beside you with a tired sigh. You turned toward her, your gaze hazy but affectionate as you grabbed her hand, pressing a sloppy kiss to the back of it.

“We’re locked in, you know that, right?” you mumbled, your voice slurred but earnest.

Caitlyn chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You only do that when you want to tell a secret. What is it?”

You giggled, your cheeks warm. “I wanna fuck Sevika so bad.”

Caitlyn groaned, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “Of course you do,” she muttered, shaking her head.

You grinned, unbothered. “Your turn. Tell me a secret.”

Caitlyn hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Fine. I’m in love with Violet.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but your grin only grew. “I’m not surprised. I see the way you look at her, Cait. You’re so obvious.”

Caitlyn laughed, squeezing your hand. “Secrets locked in.”

“Secrets locked in,” you echoed, your voice soft as sleep began to pull you under.

The two of you drifted off together, your quiet confessions lingering in the stillness of the room.

The harsh light streaming through the curtains woke you up first, followed closely by the incessant buzzing of your phone. Your head pounded, a dull ache that reminded you of every shot you’d thrown back the night before. With a groan, you rolled over, reaching for your phone on the nightstand, only to see the screen lit up with a flood of notifications.

Your phone was practically vibrating off the surface with the number of missed calls, texts, and alerts from various apps. Blinking through the haze of your hangover, you squinted at the screen.

37 missed calls.

62 unread texts.

“[Y/N] trending on Twitter.”

Your stomach dropped.

The first thing you opened was your messages, and right at the top was a slew of texts from your manager, each one more frantic than the last.

Manager 👹: “Call me. Now.”

Manager 👹: “Why am I waking up to THIS?!”

Manager 👹: “This is going to blow up even more if we don’t get ahead of it.”

Manager 👹: “PLEASE CALL ME ASAP.”

You groaned, already dreading the conversation, but curiosity got the better of you. Opening Twitter, you braced yourself for the chaos.

The first thing you saw was an article headline:

"Rockstar Sevika and Influencer (Y/N) (L/N) Spotted Holding Hands and Getting Cozy at the Club Last Night—Are They Dating?"

The accompanying picture was from last night—Sevika’s hand on your waist as she helped you down from the table, your head tilted back in laughter, clearly drunk out of your mind. There was another photo of you two holding hands as she led you through the crowd outside the club, the paparazzi’s flashes catching every intimate angle.

You scrolled down to see countless tweets from fans and gossip accounts dissecting every detail of the night.

- “So… are Sevika and [Y/N] a thing?? 👀”

- “That waist grab? HELLO???”

- “The chemistry is unreal. I’m shipping it.”

- “[Y/N] is literally living my dream. I can’t even.”

You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. “Oh my god.”

Caitlyn stirred beside you, her own groggy voice cutting through the fog. “What’s wrong?” she mumbled, her face half-buried in the blanket.

You held up your phone without saying a word, letting her squint at the screen. She blinked a few times before her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “Well, looks like you had a very eventful night.”

“You think this is funny?” you grumbled, tossing your phone aside.

“A little,” Caitlyn admitted, stretching. “But you did kind of bring this on yourself. You were all over Sevika last night.”

“I was drunk!” you defended, sitting up too quickly and regretting it immediately as the pounding in your head worsened.

“Drunk or not, the internet thinks you’re dating her now.”

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again with yet another call from your manager. With a deep breath, you reluctantly answered, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Good morning,” you croaked, your voice still rough from sleep.

“Morning? Morning?! Do you have any idea how many damage control calls I’ve had to make already?” your manager’s voice was sharp, bordering on panic. “What happened last night? Why is half the internet convinced you and Sevika are in some whirlwind romance?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s not what it looks like. She was just helping me—”

“Helping you down from a table while holding your waist and leading you out of the club hand in hand?” your manager interrupted, not buying it. “The pictures don’t scream ‘just helping.’ You know how people are going to spin this.”

“Okay, but we’re not dating,” you said firmly, though your cheeks heated at the memory of Sevika’s steady hands on you.

“Doesn’t matter. This is already everywhere, and people are eating it up. We need to decide how to handle this—deny it, ignore it, or lean into it.”

You groaned again, flopping back onto the bed as Caitlyn chuckled beside you, clearly enjoying your predicament. “I can’t deal with this right now. My head is killing me.”

“Drink some water and get it together,” your manager snapped. “I’ll call you in an hour. Figure out what you want to do by then.”

The call ended, leaving you staring at the ceiling, your phone still buzzing with notifications.

Caitlyn rolled over to face you, propping her head on her hand. “So, what’s the plan, superstar?”

You shot her a glare, but her grin only widened. “I hate you,” you muttered, burying your face in the pillow again.

But even as the headache and the stress loomed, you couldn’t stop thinking about Sevika’s touch—the way her hand had lingered on your waist, the steady warmth of her presence amidst the chaos. Maybe the internet wasn’t entirely wrong.

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delulujuls · 1 year ago

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saudade | as12

funny how you can miss someone you never met, right? my heart was aching today a lot and i cried even more while writing this so yes, it is long and it is sad, so you decide if you wanna read this or not. if you do, please enjoy if its even possible to enjoy bawling your eyes out lol

oh ayrton, you will always be missed

summary: during senna's funeral y/n has flashes of their shared past and what they could have together

warnings: for sure its intense, 5.6k words of pure sadness, thats it basically

pairing: fem!mclaren!driver x ayrton senna

It was a warm, pleasant day. The beginning of may didn't disappoint with the weather at all. A light, warm breeze swayed the flexible branches, on which fresh leaves were green. The sun was pleasantly warm, but it wasn't unbearable heat. Birdsong could be heard, but so could crying. On this day, mourners outnumbered the blossoming buds on the trees.

A crowd of people had gathered in front of the church, but it was nothing compared to the crowds still on their way. Everyone was dressed in black, and the only point of color in the black mass was a yellow dot, which from a bird's eye view resembled a sunflower petal, thrown onto the black, fertile soil. It was a helmet, a yellow racing helmet, which no one gathered there needed to be introduced to. In trembling hands, a young girl held it, never once moving it away from her chest. She held it against herself so tightly, as if she wanted to feel the warmth emanating from it, but it radiated coldness, like the inside of the church she was about to enter, barely able to keep herself on her feet.

Inside the chapel, it hadn't yet become crowded; the military made sure that the family and friends entered the church first. Inside, there was a grave silence, broken only by the occasional blowing of noses into tissues or a stifled sob.

The girl was aware of what was happening, she knew where she was and why she was there. However, her brain stubbornly avoided connecting the dots and completely pushed the facts out of her consciousness. If it had, she would probably have thrown the held helmet deep into the church, and it would have stopped only when it hit the wooden, solid coffin. The girl's gaze never once lifted towards her.

"Y/N, can you hear me?," the girl flinched when Ron's words reached her for the umpteenth time, "You know you don't have to be here, we can be outside."

The girl blinked several times, and at that very moment, her brain stopped pushing away the facts. Ron held her arm, his eyes swollen, his face even redder than usual. She herself pressed the helmet to her chest, so tightly that only when she moved it away from herself a little was she able to fully breathe. She raised her eyes and looked around. She stood in the front row of benches, where at the very top, just in front of the altar steps, stood the coffin. A large, carefully ironed Brazilian flag lay on it, its freely hanging ends touching the fresh flowers lying beneath it.

"Y/N…," the man began again, this time quieter. He saw tears in the girl's eyes, and he was about to continue, but she pressed the helmet tighter to her chest and started walking forward. She only moved the helmet away from herself when she placed it on the coffin. Y/N fell to her knees and began to sob, pressing her forehead against the hard lid. However, the lid of the coffin wasn't the only thing that separated her from her friend. The worst was death.

It was a brisk february morning. Silverstone Circuit had not yet woken up, there was no deafening roar of engines in the background, and the smell of burnt rubber didn't hang in the air.

Although it wasn't a race day and only a handful of people were milling around the facility, unlike the tens of thousands who usually flooded in for the weekend races, this day was expected to be exciting and full of emotions too.

Certainly, it was so for the 23-year-old Theodore Racing driver, who, sitting in the passenger seat on her way to the circuit, nervously picked at her nails. However, she should now be referred to as the "former Theodore Racing driver" because on this day, she had a test day at McLaren, with whom she signed a contract two weeks ago. In the past two months, the girl's life had changed dramatically. A few days after her birthday, she became the European Formula 3 World Champion, winning the title by just one point. One! The fact that she was so young and the only woman to rise so high meant that many people had their eyes on her and followed her every move. However, most people who hadn't seen her driving at over 200 kilometers per hour thought that being a woman automatically disqualified her from the sport. Ron Dennis, the head of McLaren, was familiar with her skills, though, and seeing how well she performed in the lower levels, he decided to take a risk and give her a chance. One of his proteges, however, wasn't so sure about this decision.

"Girl? You want to replace Prost with a girl?"

Senna, upon hearing the candidate to replace Alain, who, after five years of dealing with him, decided to quit and move away from McLaren, only shook his head.

"Yes, that's exactly what I plan to do," Ron lit a cigarette and shifted his gaze from the car to the disgusted face of the Brazilian, "Maybe she'll calm you down a bit. It's a miracle I found anyone to take Prost's place, no one wants to work with you!"

Ayrton snorted and shook his head again, unable to believe that his boss wanted to do something so idiotic. Silence fell in the garage, none of the mechanics intended to interrupt their conversation. Just like everyone else in the team agreed with Ron that it was a miracle to find anyone willing to take Prost's place, the same majority couldn't imagine a woman starting to race in Formula 1. Especially alongside a driver like Senna.

"A few races, and she'll quit on her own," the Brazilian muttered, "You'll see."

"Pray that she likes you and wants to race for us."

When the car stopped in the gravel parking lot, the girl got out and put on her sunglasses. Tom, her manager and a close friend of her father, just glanced at her and rubbed her back. He knew perfectly well how stressed she was. No one would be prepared for so much in such a short time.

"Everything will be fine."

"You don't have to say that."

He sighed and just pointed with his hand towards the entrance to the facility, letting her through the glass doors. He didn't convince himself too much. Shortly after, after receiving the appropriate instructions, they reached the paddock. Here, the sun didn't glare in her eyes, so the girl took off her glasses, looking around. An empty Silverstone was something unheard of.

"Good morning, welcome, good to see you,"

Ron, standing in front of the garage, as soon as he noticed the girl, broke off from the conversation with one of the mechanics and smiled at her, shaking her hand. She showed up for the tests, so he thought she deserved a shot. Maybe this would work.

The girl made an effort to smile and nodded at him. Fortunately, she didn't have to engage in a conversation with him because he was immediately engaged by her manager. She was glad that in moments like this, someone else could spare her from meaningless chatter.

"Good morning."

She greeted, approaching the car where a few men were working on the wheels, wing, and cockpit. Some of them spoke up, while the rest just nodded at her. She immediately felt unwelcome, and barely a minute had passed since she appeared in the garage. However, this was nothing new to her, she would lie if she said she was surprised. But the most important thing for her was that Ron treated her as an equal, or at least didn't make her feel like she didn't belong here. That gave her a sense of comfort. She didn't need a crowd standing behind her; she only needed two people who had her back.

The girl slowly walked around the car. The new, ready-for-the-season MP4/4 looked very good. Next to the car marked with her number stood another, practically identical, differing only in the number painted in red on the front.

However, the owner of the car was nowhere to be seen, at least not in sight. Y/N hadn't had the opportunity to meet Ayrton personally. The drivers' presentation with the car was scheduled for the end of the month, so it was quite likely that until then, she would have time to mentally prepare herself. She knew Ayrton from stories; she could watch his battles both on and off the track on television, the domestic war he waged with Alain Prost which ended with the Frenchman's departure to Ferrari.

Y/N knew she would have to face many things, one of which was Senna.

"Ready?"

Ron's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, he held a helmet and jumpsuit for her in his hand. She nodded and took the items from him, going to change. When she returned, she took her place in the cockpit, and after some time, when everything was ready, she followed the instructions and took her place on the track. She took a deep breath and clenched her hands on the steering wheel, staring at the start lights. When they went out, the girl sped off with squealing tires and the roar of the engine.

Ron and Tom stood next to each other, watching her movements on small monitors. After some time, the mechanics also began to glance at the monitors, seemingly more interested in whether she hadn't crashed yet than in her results. What surprised them was the sight on one of the displays showing her current lap time, which now stood at 1.38.412 seconds. Ron smiled and shook his head in amazement. The young girl was incredible.

The car itself wasn't handling badly. Besides feeling like a huge boat, to which she was definitely too small, it was actually a well-engineered machine. A few more laps, and she should be able to tame it completely. Although this fact was reassuring. When the girl spotted the checkered flag, she obediently pulled into the garage. She turned off the engine and unfastened her seatbelts, but she didn't get out of the car or take off her helmet because Ron was already beside her, hugging her tightly.

"Young lady, you flew in that car!" The man helped her out of the car, and she took off her helmet and balaclava, taking out the earplugs. "I told you, you did amazingly. Unbelievable lap time, great driving."

The girl wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and blew a strand of wet hair from her forehead.

"It's a really good car, sir."

"A good car without a good driver is just a good car, and a good car with a great driver is a masterful car," Ron shook her hand again, "Brilliant job."

The girl returned his smile, and when she glanced at Tom standing a few steps away, he was also smiling, his smile was the kind of "I told you so."

Y/N gave appropriate feedback to the mechanics and strategists, who now seemed to pay attention to her significantly more than when she first appeared in the garage that morning. Their faces still tried to remain impassive, but nevertheless, they noted everything she had to say. When it was all over, the girl went to change. She washed her face with cold water and looked at herself in the mirror, clenching her hands on the cold sink. She did it.

When she managed to cool down and calm herself down a bit, clutching her helmet under her arm and holding her jumpsuit in the other hand, shortly after she left the bathroom. Suddenly, she bumped into someone, and that someone turned out to be someone she sincerely didn't want to meet that day.

"Watch where you're going."

Senna muttered, holding a lit cigarette between his lips. He gave her a quick glance and disappeared through the doorway, his jumpsuit rustling as he walked away.

The girl squeezed her helmet tighter under her arm and returned to the garage, putting things back in place. After receiving the last praise and handshake from Ron, she said goodbye and left the paddock with Tom. Ayrton pretended to be too busy preparing for the start, so he didn't honor her with even a single glance. When he heard Ron praising her driving, he only snorted under his breath and shook his head. When the garage fell silent again, Ayrton took his place in the car, getting ready to drive.

"1.38.412"

Senna looked up when Ron spoke above his head.

"1.38.412," he repeated calmly, "The lap time of a twenty-three-year-old after her first drive in a Formula 1 car."

The Brazilian snorted and lowered his gaze, putting earplugs in his ears.

"I hope you'll be better than the girl."

Ayrton didn't hear his words anymore because he put on his balaclava and helmet. He didn't believe the girl had achieved such a lap time. And even if she did, it only spoke of the car's capabilities, not her skills. Senna hoped he would be faster by at least a few seconds. He had been racing in Formula 1 for almost five years; he was incredibly fast, and above all, he was a man!

When the tests ended, and he returned to the garage, satisfied with himself and his driving, the first thing he did was to look for Ron's reaction, wanting to see his expression when he rubbed his nose in it. However, the Brit looked at him indulgently, and Senna, not knowing what he meant, quickly tried to free himself from the seat belts. The Brit simply turned the monitor towards him and pointed with his finger at something that, according to Ayrton, was a big mistake.

Between him and the girl, there was a difference of a few seconds, indeed. But Ayrton was slower.

When Senna freed himself from the car, hastily took off his helmet and balaclava, and removed the earplugs, he was about to say something when Ron stopped him, pressing a cassette to his chest.

"Here, watch it tonight and see how the twenty-three-year-old beat you."

Ayrton squeezed the cassette in his hand and only watched him leave, unable to utter a word. It was some kind of absurdity!

Absurd or not, Senna spent the evening in front of the TV. He sat on the couch, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He frowned and carefully watched the recording from the camera placed in her cockpit. He saw how she aggressively entered corners, braking as late as possible, and how quickly she stepped on the gas when the centrifugal forces stopped working. He took a drag and blew smoke from his mouth, rewinding the tape from the beginning, just as it ended. The recording lasted twenty minutes, and he watched it for the seventh time, counting each lap on his stopwatch. Every time, the result was the same.

He couldn't wrap his head around what she had done, but he decided to consider it just a stroke of luck. She had a better day; he had a slightly worse one. Moreover, it wasn't the testing session or even the qualifying rounds that determined the winner, but the race itself. Driving on an empty track without rivals wanting to take your position was one thing, but racing in a competition where everyone wanted to beat you was a completely different matter. If someone had told Ayrton then that four years later, that girl would shed tears at his funeral, he would have told them to fuck themselves.

Y/N felt a strong arm around her waist, trying to lift her. Ron's heart broke seeing her in such a state. However, he couldn't help her even if he wanted to.

"Y/N, please…," he began, but she shook her head, overcome with tears. Wet stains of tears were visible on the flag covering the coffin. The girl was trembling all over, it was a miracle she could breathe. Since the accident, it seemed like Y/N was handling the tragedy very well, just being sad and quiet. No one had any idea what was yet to come. Everyone who saw Y/N by the coffin, this sight of a broken girl, felt nothing but sympathy. The bond she had formed with Ayrton seemed stronger and much richer in emotions than any he had with any of his partners. Ayrton wasn't just her teammate, he wasn't just a friend or sometimes her biggest enemy. From the very beginning, Y/N mattered to him, and if he said otherwise, he was simply lying.

The official skills assessment test for the girl was scheduled to take place less than three weeks after her first visit to the McLaren garage. Now, however, an official presentation awaited her at the reception hosted by the team. One evening at the company headquarters, a banquet was held, attended by far more people than initially anticipated. Most of them were journalists who had to announce to the world the phenomenon that was a woman at the top level of motor racing.

"It's more crowded here than I thought," the girl admitted when she entered the team headquarters with Tom by her side.

"Everyone is curious about you. There are even a couple of journalists from Australia, believe it or not," Tom said.

She looked at him in shock. "And they flew here specifically for this presentation?"

He smiled and nodded. "They'll be talking to kangaroos and kiwi birds about you," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. And it worked because she giggled at his words. However, her smile faded when she noticed Ron talking to Ayrton and two other men in suits.

"Everything will be fine. You did well on the tests, so you'll do well here too," he said softly, rubbing her arm when he noticed her expression.

"There weren't any sharks in suits and piranhas with cameras there," Tom was about to add some words of encouragement when Ron spotted them and raised his hand with a glass in it, trying to get their attention. They approached him, and he greeted them, introducing them to the directors. Ayrton, standing aside, was mindful of how many people were now watching him and wondering if his new teammate would share Prost's fate. However, the Brazilian had no intention of making an effort for gestures he didn't intend. Nevertheless, courtesy demanded it, so he extended his hand, which she hesitantly shook.

"Senna," he said, his Brazilian accent strongly evident in his last name. "Welcome to the team."

The girl introduced herself as well, but it was hard for her to maintain eye contact. Not because he was almost half a head taller, but because of the confidence emanating from him. It was his team, his place, and his time, and she was just a guest. There was no room for discussion.

Fortunately, the awkward situation was soon interrupted as the drivers and management were invited onstage. Ayrton gestured for the girl to go ahead, and she began to walk in front of him.

"I hope you don't grip the wheel as weakly as you do hands," he murmured behind her, quietly enough so no one else would hear, but loud enough for her to hear his words.

Y/N lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of heat wash over her. Even if she wanted to respond, she couldn't. He caught her completely off guard.

As they stepped onto the small stage, they stood behind one of the cars prepared for this season. The girl intertwined her fingers behind her back and straightened up, standing next to Ayrton. He might play his stupid games on her, but she had no intention of showing that she would easily give in. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and almost believed that his comment had gone unnoticed, but her cheeks were flushed. Normally, he would probably snort under his breath, but now he kept his composure.

After a few words from Ron and the board members, the floor was given to the drivers. The two of them remained on stage, each with a microphone in hand. Now it was time for the media, for their pressing questions and burning issues.

Ayrton sat relaxed, almost bored. His legs were bent at the knees, slightly apart. One hand was around his waist, resting his elbow on it, holding the microphone in the other hand. He answered questions briefly and to the point, not dwelling more than necessary. His attire alone indicated that today's banquet was just a formality; he wore a suit, but instead of a shirt, he had a white T-shirt, and on his feet were sports shoes.

Despite her best efforts not to stress out, Y/N was far from as calm as Ayrton. She sat up straight, one leg crossed over the other. Although her red dress practically touched the floor, she glanced occasionally to make sure nothing was out of place. She felt like every move, even the smallest one, was being watched and analyzed. She felt she wasn't focusing on the content of the questions but on how she appeared.

The girl blinked several times, trying to find a sensible answer to the question that had been directed at her a few seconds ago.

"Could you repeat that?" she asked, feeling a bit embarrassed about her inattention. Ayrton, however, heard the question well.

"I asked if you think you're good enough to compete with men or if you're just here for publicity? Racing is still a male-dominated sport, and it seems like you're just trying to prove something rather than compete," the man in glasses squeezed the voice recorder in his hand and looked at her expectantly. Seeing her confusion, he sighed, "I see you're not too bright, so let me ask directly - do you really think you belong here? Do you have what it takes to keep up with the boys on the track?"

The girl panicked a little; this question completely threw her off guard. Emotions overwhelmed her, and she couldn't utter a word. But there was someone who could speak and had an exceptionally sharp tongue.

"I see that, Mr. - again, for whom are you writing?" Ayrton spoke up, furrowing his brows.

"John Ruffleck, Guardian."

"Ah, of course, the Guardian," the man clicked his tongue indulgently. "Clearly, you are the one that didn't shine with intelligence, asking last year's Formula 3 world champion if she fits in here." Y/N was shocked to hear that Ayrton stood up for her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Despite still sitting calmly, the Brazilian was ready for a verbal battle. "If I fit in here, then the 23-year-old who set a better lap time than me during the tests also fits."

Ayrton bluntly silenced the journalist, who merely muttered a quiet "Thank you" and lowered his head.

Several more questions were thrown in by Ayrton, steering the conversation away from sexist undertones. By the end of the conference, there were no more questions about sexist issues. The drivers got up from their seats, and Y/N turned off her microphone, placing it on the sound table as Senna did the same.

"Thank you," she said, looking at him. He also looked at her, but this time his expression didn't express annoyance or boredom, as it did two times before when their eyes met.

"Don't thank me," he said, taking two glasses of champagne from the waitress. "You are allow to drink, right?" he asked before handing her one of them. She nodded and took the glass from him. "Don't thank me, just learn to counter such nonsense. If they're rude, we can be rude too."

Y/N took a big sip of champagne. Her mouth was dry from nerves.

"I don't want to be rude, it's not proper," she said.

"Not proper?" Senna scoffed. "Because you're a girl?"

"Because they'll think poorly of me"

"Do you really care what that bunch of idiots thinks?"

The girl lowered her gaze. Ayrton was right.

Did she really care? She was a driver; she was supposed to deliver good results. She wasn't supposed to please the audience.

She was about to reply when Ron approached them, cursing the Guardian journalist's stupidity. He was so caught up that he didn't even notice Ayrton sending the girl a final glance and then finishing his champagne, taking out cigarettes from his back pocket, and walking away towards the exit. Y/N only watched him go. At that moment, neither of them had any idea how much she would learn from Ayrton, or that he would gladly take on the role of a teacher himself. No one would have even thought of it then.

When Ron managed to lift the shaken girl, she reached for her helmet again and pressed it to her chest. When she looked up, across from her, on the other side of the coffin, she saw a man in a wheelchair. Frank Williams looked at her in silence, but his gaze was apologetic, his face sad, and his eyes looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Why?" Y/N whispered, but she wasn't sure if anything managed to leave her lips. Williams didn't need to hear her; her eyes said it all. Even if he couldn't hear her question or look into her swollen, tear-filled eyes, he would know perfectly well that she blamed him for his death. "Why, Frank? Why?" Maybe even more than she blamed God.

"If you can hold on to me for longer than five seconds, I'll let you pass," Ayrton said, exhaling smoke. He sat on one of the crates outside McLaren's garage, wearing sunglasses. The weather for the upcoming race looked exceptionally good, but Senna wouldn't mind rain.

"Are you challenging me?" the girl asked, squinting and looking at him against the light. They were sitting outside, where it was quieter, as the mechanics worked inside the garage.

"Why would I?" the man chuckled, taking another drag. Seeing her uncertainty, he offered her a cigarette, trying to reassure her with his gesture.

Y/N took the cigarette and inhaled the smoke, which tickled her throat, making her cough. She wrinkled her nose and after a moment handed him back the cigarette.

"Don't you want to test my braking skills and eliminate me from the race?"

Ayrton laughed and shook his head. "So, I do have a bad reputation after all."

"Definitely not the best," the girl said softly, smiling uncertainly. Ayrton playfully nudged the crate she was sitting on with his foot. He genuinely liked this girl; in fact, he could and wanted to work with her. Now he was even willing to let her win the race if she showed that she could keep up with him. She had demonstrated many times that she could drive at an exceptionally high level, so Senna was willing to show some humanity and let her achieve her first victory, especially on home turf. He stubbed out the cigarette and stood up, taking off his cap and placing it on her head, pulling it down over her eyes.

"Five seconds," he repeated, walking away as she adjusted the cap on her head.

The girl decided to take up the challenge, realizing that such an opportunity might never come again. Ayrton and collaboration? They were complete opposites after all. Y/N, who started the next day from the last place on the podium, managed to fight her way up to second place at the beginning of the race. She spent the next forty laps chasing after Ayrton, wondering if there was any point in chasing him if she couldn't overtake him. Seeing his familiar helmet in the side mirror, Ayrton smiled. He added a bit more throttle and began counting to five, but the girl's car didn't seem to be falling back. When the agreed time was up, much to everyone's disbelief, both on the track and in front of the TVs, Senna slowed down and obediently let her pass. Unable to believe her own eyes, the girl pressed the gas and took the lead, crossing the finish line with him.

She only believed in her victory when Ayrton offered her his hand and helped her onto the podium.

"Five seconds," he said, smiling at her.

"Five seconds," she replied, returning the smile.

How much she would give to see Ayrton again, even for five seconds. To be able to hug him for five seconds, see his smile. Five seconds now would last like an eternity, for which she would pay any price.

The church was filled with people, mostly family and friends, individuals directly connected to Ayrton. The remaining people were outside, surrounding the church, also gathering along the main road. There were talks of crowds, thousands who came to bid farewell to their hero. They too would give much to see Ayrton even for five seconds. Whole, alive, before the Imola accident.

Y/N held the helmet on her knees, looking at it with vacant eyes. She ran her fingers along the edges, tracing the stickers and sponsor names. She squeezed the soft padding inside. She closed her eyelids. Five seconds.

"Necessity is the mother of invention," Ayrton said, loud enough to make the girl jump. She was barefoot, wearing shorts and a bikini top, with his helmet on her head, visor down. She waved a piece of cardboard towards the grill, trying to ignite it better and not wanting the smoke to get in her eyes, deciding to use whatever she had at hand. And hoping Ayrton wouldn't get mad that she used his helmet for this.

The man smiled and shook his head, placing the wood he held in his hands next to the grill. Standing next to the girl, he lifted the visor and looked into her eyes. She looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It suits you," Senna interrupted, smiling. "Possibly even more than me."

"Do you think so?"

The man nodded. His hair, damp from swimming in the lake, fell onto his forehead, and his brown eyes sparkled. Ayrton had been looking at Y/N like this for some time, in a way that many would describe as tender. Certainly, the girl wasn't just a teammate to him, as who would invite a teammate to their hometown to meet their closest family. Certainly not Ayrton.

"I love you, Y/N,"

He confessed as he lay on the jetty, gazing at the starry sky, where there was no trace of the hot Brazilian sun anymore.

The girl laughed and took a sip of beer, lying next to him and leaning on his arm. Both were drunk, so she was sure Ayrton was joking. However, when his confession was met with silence and he turned to look at her, his face was deadly serious.

"I mean it, Y/N. I love you,"

"You can't love me, you have a girlfriend," she replied, still laughing. There was no way he was serious.

Ayrton got up and without a word, kissed her, wanting to prove his words. When he pulled away after a moment, there was no smile on the girl's face. He was about to say something again, but she touched his cheek and returned the kiss, and he pulled her closer, holding her tightly in his arms. That night, they would find out how much they meant to each other.

Senna meant a lot to the girl, there was no doubt about it. He also meant unimaginable things to all those who took part in the funeral ceremonies, not only in Brazil itself but worldwide. It might have seemed like the world had lost an incredible man, someone who in life had already become a legend. Who would have thought that this living, almost mystical legend was just a man? A man who is mortal. Surely no one looked at Senna that way. Certainly not Frank Williams, who eventually decided to agree and accept Ayrton into his team, bearing an incredible burden now. Senna was supposed to lift his team to great heights, and his tragic death dealt a blow, not so much personal as it was business-related. However, at that moment, that mattered least.

Y/N and Ayrton sat at the kitchen table, eating a late dinner in silence. They were in their shared home in Europe, but for the past few months, the walls of the house seemed to be becoming more alien with each passing day. The atmosphere was as thick as it is now, when none of the people sitting at the table even bothered to steal a glance.

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to go to Williams?"

The girl asked, stirring the contents of her plate with her fork. Ayrton tightened his grip on the glass and took a few sips from it.

"Ayrton-", "Why did I have to tell you?" he entered her words and looked at her, "Just to make you try to stop me?

Y/N blinked several times. She was shocked. She had the impression that the man sitting opposite was a complete stranger and someone she had never known before.

"To stop you? I'm your girlfriend, I should be the first to know about your plans, not hear from strangers."

"Did it change anything? Did something happen that you didn't find out from me?"

"Yes!" she shouted, slamming her hand on the table. She was so done with all of this. "I'm fed up with you treating me like an enemy for several weeks!"

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" he stood up, leaning over and pointing his finger at her. "You have no idea how much I had to do to get that offer, how much it cost me!"

"I have no idea, because you don't tell me anything!" she also stood up, pushing his hand away, which he was aiming at her face, "Fame has gone to your head, you're acting like a complete idi-" She didn't get to finish because Ayrton slapped her across the face. He didn't realize when his open hand met her cheek. Y/N grabbed her cheek and looked at him in shock. At the moment of the strike, he also seemed to snap out of it, as if he had been hit himself.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said calmly, trying to approach her, but she backed away a few steps, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"But you did," she said with a trembling voice, tears welling up in her eyes, "I don't recognize you anymore, Ayrton".

As the funeral rites began, the last thing on Y/N's mind was their recent arguments, of which there had been plenty lately. Nonetheless, since the incident when he raised his hand to her, Senna understood he had crossed a line. The only upside of the whole situation was that they had started talking again, and Ayrton had come to realize that Y/N was not his enemy. Yes, on the track, the girl might be someone he now had to defeat even more than usual, but she was still his friend, his girlfriend, his partner. Speaking of partners, many women appeared at the funeral, but four of them spent exceptionally long periods by the coffin. They had a lot in common, yet none of them deigned to exchange glances. Each of Ayrton's partners, even today, on such a dramatic day, looked at her as if she were an enemy. Viviane made sure none of them sat on the bench where the family was seated. Y/N belonged to the family. She didn't intrude, Ayrton invited her himself.

"Maybe you should take a break?" Sid Watkins persistently tried to persuade Ayrton and Y/N to withdraw from the upcoming race. "Two weeks, you'll come back to Monaco in better shape, with lighter minds."

Senna sat on one of the crates behind the Williams garage, elbows resting on his knees. Y/N repeatedly wiped her tear-streaked cheeks, trembling hand holding a cigarette. An hour ago, the qualifying session for tomorrow's race was interrupted by Roland Ratzerberger's serious accident. The man was taken to the hospital, but many said he was taken from the track already dead.

"This shouldn't have happened, there shouldn't have been talk of such an accident," the girl repeated, almost hysterical. She was in tremendous shock, having witnessed the accident herself as she was the one who followed Ratzerberger's car.

"They need to cancel the race," Senna said dryly, his gaze fixed on a point in front of him. "We can't race here, not after something like this."

"And if they don't cancel?" Sid looked from Ayrton to Y/N. "Will you race in such a state? You won't sleep over this until tomorrow."

"If they don't cancel, we'll race for him. I'll drive the best I can to honor him with a victory," Ayrton decided, raising his gaze and looking the doctor in the eyes.

"You like fishing, right? Why don't you go back to Brazil, catch some fish, relax. If you want, I'll come with you, I could use it too."

Senna rubbed his face with his hands, intertwining his fingers and pressing them against his lips. Again, he fell silent. He knew they couldn't not race; he certainly couldn't afford to tell Frank after months of effort that he wouldn't start tomorrow. He couldn't do that.

"I don't want to race," Y/N admitted, shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Ayrton, he, Roland-" the man rose without a word and hugged her tightly. He enveloped her in a strong embrace, stroking her hair. Watkins saw that Senna was thinking intensely. And no matter what he said or did to convince him to skip the race, he would do it his own way.

"Think about it, Ayrton. Just think about it," he said one last time. Senna looked him in the eyes and nodded in silence.

Late in the afternoon, Ayrton and Y/N returned to the hotel. They didn't talk much; Y/N occasionally wiped her eyes with a tissue. Ayrton held her hand a lot. When they lay in bed, Senna laid on her stomach, wrapping his arm around her waist. The girl began to run her fingers through his damp hair.

"I don't want to start tomorrow, Y/N," he said softly. He was facing away from her, she couldn't see that he was crying too. "I have a bad feeling."

"You know nobody can force you to do it," she said calmly, her other hand stroking his cheek. "Maybe Watkins is right? Let's fly to your parents, spend time with the kids. It's been two months since you've seen them."

"I can't," he said, wiping his face with his hand. "I can't, nobody needs a driver who doesn't race."

"Ayrton—" "Just hold me," he interrupted, sitting up. The girl obeyed his command, sitting between his legs and hugging him tightly. Both were silent; Y/N tenderly stroked his head and tense back.

"This will be my last season," he said, not moving an inch from her. "I've done enough; I don't need more. I want to focus on something else, on more important things."

"On what, my love?" she asked gently, still stroking his hair.

"I want to be a dad,"

Senna surprised her with this confession. The girl smiled.

"Would you like to have a son or a daughter?"

"A daughter, oh, how I'd love a daughter," he said, pulling away to look at her face. "Would you like to have a child with me? And become my wife?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. "You know I would."

Ayrton returned her smile and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply.

"Te amo, querido,"

"I love you too, Ayrton. And i will always do."

"And i will always do," Y/N said qiuetly, watching as the coffin slowly descends into the ground. Nothing can destroy such love, certainly not death.

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #ayrton senna #ayrton senna x reader #ayrton senna x you #as12 #classic f1

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cabinetofquriosities · 7 months ago

Text

1950

Agatha x Rio AU || Warnings: smut

Fic Playlist

(Listen along while reading)

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Rio had been tracking her mark for two nights now. Being a private eye in her time was easy, given that no one ever suspected a woman of anything.

She had been paid by Ralph Harkness to see if his wife had another man on the side. It was a pretty routine case for her to get. She would either get proof of her in bed with someone or of her going to a book club. She hoped for the book club, if just to avoid having some blubbering man who never treated his wife right in the first place breaking down in her office.

She had blended well into the background of Agatha’s life, situating herself as another face in the crowd. When she shopped, she was a few aisles over. When she drove, she tailed her two cars back. Now, she was parked around the corner, hidden on a fire escape in a shady neighborhood, watching Agatha through her binoculars.

While Agatha normally wore elegant dresses, she was wearing something closer to a feminine suit with suspenders and the blouse beneath it having the top few buttons undone. Her makeup and hair were flawless, her red lip drawing attention. She adjusted her suit jacket before walking down the street in wing-tipped shoes. It reminded Rio of something that Katherine Hepburn would wear. She looked both beautiful and dashing all in one.

She completely that she was at work as she watched the woman slid past the person guarding the door into what looked like a private club.

“Shit…” she whispered to herself, not having gotten one photo of her.

She decided to go inside. After snapping a picture of the club entrance and Agatha’s convertible, she left her camera in her own car. She made her way to the door of the club, knocking when she realized it was locked.

The door opened, revealing who she thought was a man at first, but was a very masculine woman.

“Hello, Dolly,” she said with a smirk, “First time here?”

Rio smiled nervously, saying, “Yes.”

“Relax, you’re safe here. Have fun,” she said, stepping aside to let her in.

Rio walked inside, her dark green satin dress hugging her form, falling to her knee. Her black hair swept down in a perfect wave to kiss her bare shoulders. She looked around, seeing women everywhere. They were drinking at the bar, dancing on the dance floor, and wrapped up in each other in dark cozy corners. Rio had known of places like this for certain men who lived their lives in secret, but never women.

She walked up to the bar and ordered a martini. She drank it instantly before ordering another, needing a dose of courage. She had followed others into dangerous and sordid places where she felt unsafe, but this place made her uneasy in an entirely different way.

She nursed her second martini, perched on one of the stools as a dapper woman named Syd chatted her up. She caught sight of Agatha across the room. The other woman leaned against the wall, flirting with a young, blushing blonde. As if she felt Rio watching, her eyes flicked over and found hers. Rio’s heart stopped a moment as she looked away. After a few seconds passed, she chanced another glance, finding that Agatha’s eyes were still on her.

Rio looked back at Syd, who had caught on that her attention was somewhere else.

“Sorry, you were saying?” Rio said, sipping her martini.

“Agatha,” Syd said, catching her off guard.

“Syd,” said a familiar voice right behind her.

Rio just about jumped out of her skin. She was normally so calm when out on a job, but something about this woman knocked her off balance.

“Take a walk, Syd. Your girl’s looking for you,” Agatha said, nodding toward a very angry looking woman.

“Shit,” Syd muttered before running over to the other woman with profuse apologies.

“Such a dog,” Agatha said with an arched brow, “So, I haven’t seen you around here.”

Rio played with the toothpick in her drink.

“Yeah… it’s my first time at a place like this.”

“Oh! Well, welcome to the greener grass. No man in sight.”

Rio laughed and said, “Thank you. It is definitely better than any nightclub I’ve been to.”

“I’m Agatha, by the way,” she said, reaching her hand out.

“Vera,” she said, giving her an alias.

Agatha brought Rio’s hand up to her lips, kissing the knuckles, leaving red lipstick behind. Her cheeks burned as she blushed, her reaction betraying her professionalism. Agatha kept her hand in hers.

“Would you like to dance?” she asked as a slow song came on.

“Sure.”

Agatha led her to the dance floor. In one smooth motion, she spun Rio before pulling her in. Her hand rested on her hip and the other held Rio’s.

“So, Vera, are you married or single?” She asked.

“Single, of course,” she said.

“It’s not always the case here. A lot of women need to hide themselves behind a husband.”

“You?”

“Married. Unhappily. I hoped it would at least be peaceful, but that man is drunk most of the time.”

“Oh,” Rio said, “I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.”

“It is. I can’t leave, though.”

“Why not?”

“He would get everything.”

“You… don’t have anything on him?” Rio asked, unable to turn the investigator side of herself off.

“Like what?”

“Well, if he was cheating..”

“He would still get everything. No one would hire a divorcee either. No, I just need to outlive his liver and hope he never notices that his wife prefers the company of women,” she said.

Rio swallowed, realizing how privileged she had been to inherit the money she had to start her investigation business. Most women couldn’t earn the money she did. Now, she was about to completely ruin Agatha’s situation when she had nothing to fall back on.

“Well, I hope his liver fails,” she said.

“Thanks,” Agatha said with a smirk, swaying with her.

Rio pressed her cheek to hers as they danced. Her front was against Agatha’s as she was held by her. She breathed in the other woman’s expensive perfume, finding herself dizzied by it all. She had always told herself that romance was never something that mattered to her. She never felt that spark of attraction with any man. Now, she felt a rush of new emotions swirling around in her mind.

“So…” Agatha whispered, “Why have you been following me?”

Rio’s eyes went wide as she tried to step back. Agatha tightened her hold, clicking her tongue.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Rio replied.

Agatha turned her head, her face an inch from Rio’s.

“I suppose he hired you. For a PI, you don’t lie very well. Do I make you nervous?” she asked with a cocky smile.

“I.. n…” Rio stuttered before sighing, “Yes. He hired me. I’m sorry.”

A bit of worry and fear flashed in Agatha’s eyes at the confirmation. Defeat settled into her posture.

“Well, I guess I’m going to be out on the street. No way will my parents have a homosexual daughter in their home.”

“No,” Rio said, “As far as I’m concerned, I found you volunteering to help the homeless.”

“Really?” Agatha asked, stunned as a person who had never been given the benefit of the doubt.

“Really.”

“Thank you, Vera.”

“It’s Rio, actually,” she said.

“Rio, that’s beautiful. Well, thank you Rio,” Agatha said, leaning in and kissing her cheek.

Rio’s blush returned, making her cheeks glow scarlet at Agatha’s touch.

“I’m sure you want to be anywhere but here, now that you don’t need to follow me, but I would like to buy you another drink if you’d like,” Agatha said.

“Sure,” she said, “I actually like it here… I mean, because it’s nice to not have men pawing at me…”

“Of course, Sweetheart,” Agatha said with a smirk.

She ordered them both whiskeys and handed one to Rio.

“Cheers,” she said, sipping hers.

The two talked for another hour. Agatha had Rio laughing and Rio captivated Agatha with work stories. The other people around them seemed to fall away as they only focused on one another in the crowded club.

Agatha rested her hand on Rio’s thigh as she laughed at a joke, kicking up a burst of panic within her. The entire night had been so wonderful but also so confusing.

“I should go,” Rio blurted out.

“O-Oh, okay,” Agatha said, crestfallen and retracting her hand.

“I just need to make sure I get some sleep,” she lied.

“Well, can I walk you out to your car? I mean, I already know what it looks like since I’ve seen it behind me all week.”

“I really need to work on tailing people…” Rio said, “Sure. I would like that.”

She walked outside with Agatha on the empty street, a single light illuminating the sidewalk. Agatha rested her hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the car. Rio felt more from that touch than she had from any kiss she shared with a man.

Once they reached the car, Rio turned to face her.

“Thank you for the drink,” she said.

“Thank you for not ratting me out,” Agatha said, “I really did enjoy your company, though.”

“I did too,” Rio said.

Rio leaned in, hugging Agatha. They held each other for a while, Agatha’s hand rubbing her back. She pulled back slightly to look into Rio’s eyes. Their noses brushed against each other. Rio felt something surrender within her. She closed the distance between them with a kiss. Agatha sucked on her lip, the kiss intensifying immediately.

Agatha pulled back, smiling with smeared lipstick, the two of their shades mixed.

“We should go somewhere less out in the open if we are going to continue this,” Agatha said.

“My place,” Rio said, her usual boldness finally returning to her.

“I’ll follow you for once.”

The two drove their respective cars to the brownstone Rio had bought years ago after her parents passed. She led Agatha inside. The other woman pulled her in by the hand and kissed her slowly, pouring every bit of tenderness she had into it.

“Bedroom?” Agatha whispered.

“Huh? Oh…” Rio asked, every thought having vacated itself.

She took her hand as she brought her upstairs, opening the door to her room. She turned on a lamp, turning to see Agatha stripping her jacket off. Rio walked towards her, taking her suspenders and pulling them down. She unbuttoned the rest of Agatha’s shirt while kissing her again. She felt Agatha reach around her and tug on her zipper, pulling it down to release her from her dress.

Rio was left in her stockings, garters, and brassiere. Agatha pulled back, shamelessly admiring her.

“Wow…” Agatha said softly.

Rio tried to avoid slouching or nervously playing with her hands. She was not used to being regarded in this way. Agatha kept her eyes on her as she stripped herself. Rio was rendered speechless in the presence of a beautiful woman naked in her bedroom.

“Wow…” Rio echoed.

Agatha crossed the room, cupping Rio’s cheeks in her hands. She began to lean in. Rio gripped her wrist with her hand.

“Agatha-“

“Yeah?” Agatha said, her eyes still on her lips.

“I’ve never..”

“Been with a woman before, I figured,” she said.

“Been with anyone before…” Rio said with an air of embarrassment.

Agatha looked into her eyes, taking in the new information. She ran her thumb over her cheek.

“Do you want to stop?” she asked.

“No… I just… thought you should know.”

“I’m glad you told me,” Agatha said with a smile, “We’ll go as slow as you want to.”

She leaned in, locking lips with Rio. She sat at the edge of the bed, pulling Rio to straddle her. She smoothly unhooked her bra, tossing it aside. Her hands cupped her breasts, earning a gasp from Rio. Sitting up, Agatha pressed her lips to her chest. She sucked on the skin beneath it and sucked hard. Rio whimpered at the delicious pain as she was marked.

Her hips rolled over Agatha’s as the more experienced woman teased and toyed with her. Her lips and teeth seemed to be everywhere, leaving love-bites wherever she could. Rio was left breathless once Agatha had claimed every available inch of her.

Agatha pulled back and looked at the flushed woman on her lap. Her lips had faded, smudged lipstick, her hair was mussed, and her eyes dilated. She looked ruined for the first time in her life and the fact that she had caused that fueled Agatha. She moved them, laying Rio down. She wanted to keep Rio’s stockings and garters on, so she elected to grip her panties, tearing the fabric. She tossed the scrap aside and kissed along Rio’s inner thigh, making her squirm.

Agatha was driving her to the edge of her sanity. She looked down at her as the other woman settled between her thighs. Rio’s mouth fell open as Agatha’s lips melted into her.

“Fuck! Agatha… please don’t stop…” Rio breathed.

Agatha moaned against her. The sounds of Rio’s pleading made her hungry for her. She circled her arms around her thighs. Her tongue explored her, parting her and sliding inside. Rio let out a yelp when Agatha found a certain spot hidden inside of her. She ground her tongue against it before pulling out. She pressed her lips to her clit, licking and then sucking on it. She slid a finger into Rio, being gentle while opening her up.

Rio was already embarrassingly close to cumming once Agatha began to fuck her. She felt her heart pounding against her chest, resounding in her ears. She gripped her sheets in her fists and twisted as her body gave in. A moan tore itself from her throat as her pleasure spilled over the edge.

Her body shook as she came down from her high. Agatha kissed her way up her front to her lips. She cupped Rio’s jaw and leaned down, kissing her with her arousal on her lips.

Agatha smirked as her hand stayed between her thighs, drawing out the aftershocks while watching Rio closely. Whimpers left Rio’s lips between shaking breaths. She held the gaze from Agatha’s blue eyes as she tried and failed to regain her senses.

There was a glint of mischief in Agatha’s eye as she slid a second finger into her, moving it slowly to allow her to adjust. Rio let out a shocked moan while Agatha sped her thrusts, her thumb working over her clit. Her pleasure built on top of her previous climax, quickly rushing to a new one.

“You’re being so good for me,” Agatha purred.

The praise washed over her, making her cunt clench around her. She felt her walls flutter around her fingers. Her breath caught, her brows bunching together as she looked into Agatha’s eyes. Agatha was left speechless at the sight of Rio cumming. She stroked her through her aftershocks again before sliding out of her.

Rio ran her hand along the length of Agatha’s side, stopping at her hip. She bit her lip before moving Agatha onto her back.

“Hey, tonight’s about you. You don’t need-“

“I want to,” Rio said, “Just… tell me what to do.”

Rio moved down between Agatha’s thighs, looking at her sex with nothing short of fear. She leaned in and ran her tongue along her slid, earning a whine from Agatha. The feeling of drawing that little bit of pleasure from her had Rio hooked. She gave her clit and cunt kitten licks, testing what worked and what didn’t.

“Inside… slide it inside…” Agatha moaned.

Rio did as she was told, the taste of desire exploding on her tongue. She moved and flexed her tongue, looking for her most sensitive spots. She finally found one that made Agatha buck her hips. She gripped her hips and pinned them to keep her from moving out of reach. She felt a hand in her hair while she fucked her with her tongue. Agatha’s grip made her grind herself against the mattress. She was pulled closer, nearly being suffocated in the most delicious way. Agatha panted faster before her thighs shook and her walls collapsed around Rio’s tongue.

Once the hand in her hair loosened, Rio came up from between her legs, her lips and chin slick with arousal. Agatha cupped her face and pulled her down. She kissed and licked the remnants of her own desire from Rio’s face. Rio held her close, the two of them falling into the same breathing rhythm.

“That was… thank you,” Rio whispered.

“I hope your first time was worth the wait,” Agatha murmured before capturing her lips in another kiss.

“It definitely was. Can I… see you again?” Rio asked with an edge of nervousness.

“I would love that,” Agatha said, kissing her forehead, “I do need to go before Ralph wakes up.”

“Right. Him,” Rio muttered.

“Tomorrow?”

“Where?”

“If you’re any good at your job, you’ll be able to find me.”

————————————

6 months later…

Rio had spent every moment Agatha could get away from the house with her. She fell quickly and deeply in love with the other woman. She knew she would always need her in her life.

She waited in her car with a long ranged lens, her camera aimed at a motel. A man walked out with a half-tucked shirt and a woman half his age. She leaned up and kissed him, his hand gripping her ass.

A smile broke out over Rio’s lips at the sight as she snapped a number of pictures. She drove off and met Agatha at the club.

“So?” Agatha asked.

“You have enough to petition for divorce,” she said.

Agatha beamed at her, nearly tackling her with a hug. The two had agreed to have Agatha move in with Rio once the divorce was granted. The two would run the business and spend their lives together. Agatha pulled Rio into a deep kiss.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” she whispered against her lips.

“I’m the lucky one,” Rio said back.

She pulled Agatha out to the dance floor as one of their favorite love songs played. The two danced, holding one another until closing time.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please reblog it!

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luvelve · 2 years ago

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husband!mingyu who secretly knows that one of your weaknesses is seeing the band of his underwear whenever he stretches. something about seeing CALVIN KLEIN in all bold letters whenever the giant man stretches his limbs. hanging just below his torso, let it be red, black, grey, or just the classic white calvins, it’d be sure to make your stomach flutter.

how else could he have picked up on this not so little obsession of yours when every time his underwear peaks, your cheeks turn a bright pink hue and suddenly you forget what mingyu was talking about just then.

“though we could get 2 vacuums instead, one for upstairs and one for downstairs.” mingyu says after your mind has somehow turned 7 innocent seconds of him stretching into a short calvin klein montage with some flirty doja cat song playing in the background.

“that’d be smarter and easier for us, right?” he adds, fixing the folds of his shirt. you’re now completely unaware that your mouth is hanging slightly open and that your cheeks are now the same color as mingyu’s favorite pink hoodie.

“yeah, uh huh.” you nod your head absentmindedly, now finally shifting your gaze at your husband’s face. this doesn’t go unnoticed by him though.

“okay, so what did i just say, my love?” his tone playful, deciding whether or not he should tell you that he knows why you’re all flushed right now. he turns his body on the couch so he can fully face you.

he scans your face and he recognizes that look on your face. it’s the same flushed look you had when mingyu first kissed you outside your apartment. the same look when he showed up with flowers and your favorite chinese takeout on a random tuesday. the same look when he brought you to his parents’ house and accidentally said he wants to marry you.

after being married to each other for almost 3 years, mingyu finds it endearing that he’s still able to leave you all flustered. whether it be stopping in his tracks to tie your laces, to removing the strand of hair on your face, and even flashing the band of his underwear apparently.

“uh, we’re getting a new vacuum… and we can get those dyson? ones that you’ve been telling me about.” you shoot him a sheepish smile and it takes everything in him to not kiss you right now.

he pauses and flashes you his signature smile. his canines poking out at the side.

“what?” you say, giggling at the giant teddy bear that is smiling at you for a reason unknown to you.

“baby, i know.” he huffs, closing the tiny gap in between the two of you.

“know what?” you reply, raising an eyebrow at him.

being the gentle giant that your husband is, he wants to lay it to you gently so as not to totally embarrass you, but he’s afraid it’s gonna happen either way.

“my love, i know that whenever i stretch, like when i put my hands up like this and my tummy shows? and so does my underwear? baby, i catch you staring.” he trails off after demonstrating to you and he starts giggling and snakes his arms around your waist. your faces are now practically centimeters from each other. there’s only love and adoration in mingyu’s eyes.

“you-what do you? no, i don’t. babe, i don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you bite your lip in attempts to hide the giant smile that’s about to form on your face.

all mingyu can do is laugh and bury his face into the crook of your neck. meanwhile, your insides are burning from the embarrassment that your husband knows your little secret and your cheeks are turning bright red this time around.

“my love, its okay. so what if you find my underwear hot? i mean i find a lot of things about you hot. like when you pump gas into our car. hot. when your hair’s wet and you wrap it in a towel and you take it out from the towel? hot. oh, when you wear my shirts and hoodies. well that’s more of cute, but you get the point. babe, i could go on and on, you know.” he continues to rub circles onto your waist where his hands are resting.

you’re reminded of how loving and gentle your husband is because only he could rub away the embarrassment of finding his briefs hot.

“how long have you known?” you whisper, the bright red stain on your cheeks fading away. holding his chin between your thumb and index finger.

“i don’t know, i guess when we were having lunch this one time at that fancy place near us. that was the first time i caught you. so maybe a month ago?” his gaze is soft with a hint of playfulness.

“well, there goes my secret, i guess.” a pout forms on your face and all mingyu can do is lean in for a kiss. it’s not rushed, it’s the kind that says i love you. you can feel yourself melt into him as he takes one hand from your waist and places it onto your cheek. both of your arms wrap around his neck to pull him even closer than he was before.

“doesn’t mean i’m gonna stop doing it though.” you break away from the kiss momentarily to say to him. you shoot him a naughty look that he’s all too familiar with.

“that’s my girl.” he replies, leaning in for another kiss.

so this was completely self indulgent, and the first thing i’ve written. this was supposed to be like a 200 word blurb MAX but i got carried away :<

anyways, please enjoy <3

#kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen #svt #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt x y/n #mingyu imagines #svt imagines #svt au #mingyu au #mingyu scenarios #luvelve’s

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paxaz535 · 3 months ago

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Brother’s Best Friend

♡pairing ♡

paige x black!oc

chapter viii (8)

———

series here

————-

note: so so sorry for the late update guys ,, i’ve been busy lately :/ but here it is!

———

“P. let me go.” Daveli whispered as she looked down at paige’s hands. Paige sighed but listened to the girl, knowing that what Nai said wouldn’t slide past eli, no matter what.

Daveli quickly turned around, full speed walking towards the light skin. Nai quickly squared up, already knowing what Daveli was up to. “Come on bitch. Show me i’m a thot.” Eli spoke as she squared up as well.

“Should we let em fight?” David asked. “Hell yea. she just disrespected my best friend. And as for you bitch, I wanna see you try and jump in.” Makayla spoke as she pointed towards Mia. The strawberry blonde rolled her eyes, stepping back.

Daveli decided to swing on her first, breaking her top rule when it came to fighting but she couldn’t deal with the girl anymore. Nai got away with too much shit and this was Daveli’s breaking point.

Nai immediately tried to go for her hair but Eli punched her to the floor. Swear words could be heard left from right, the girls going at it. It was getting to a point where Paige noticed Nai was getting weaker, signaling her that it was time to break up the fight.

“Alright!” The blonde pulled Eli off, letting Nai stand up. “You a bitch!” Daveli laughed, a smile on her face. “You just got your ass beat like one, fuck outta my face.” She exclaimed as Paige drug her towards the bedroom.

“I told david ass not to bring her.” Daveli spoke as she stood in the mirror of the bathroom. “Girl, you almost killed her.” Azzi exclaimed, she was still in shock of how fast everything happened. Eli chuckled, shaking her head. “She lucky Paige pulled me away.”

Jaida was rewatching the video on her phone, laughing at how Nai fell to the floor with one punch. “This is crazy.” Caroline spoke as she watched as well. Daveli looked at her own phone and noticed the time. “We should start getting ready. It takes us a while to get there.” Everyone nodded, immediately getting their outfits out.

This is why Makayla absolutely adored Daveli. The girl just got into a fight and now she’s driving her car, listening to music like nothing completely happened. They all decided to only take three cars. Daveli, Makayla, Emma, Azzi and Carol is in Daveli’s SUV, Paige, Jaida and the twins decided to ride with David and them. Everyone was following Eli’s car because she had the gps.

azzi35 has added to their story !

They were 15 minutes away from the arcade and Eli got more excited as they got closer. The music was playing and the vibes was good, she had a feeling she was gonna like this little group they’ve formed.

As Eli pulled up to a stop sign, she heard Emma gasped. Emma had saw that Derek had posted a photo of them, but in the background you can see Paige and Mia all boo’d up. Emma showed Azzi and Carol and the two had the same reaction. Daveli was confused, “What are we gasping for?”

Makayla looked at the hispanic from her passenger seat with her eyebrow raised. Emma looked at her phone before showing Makayla. The light turned green and Daveli had to move so she couldn’t see the picture. Makayla looked at the girl and back at the phone. Eli quickly looked at her face before turning back to the road. “Yall, what the fuck?”

“You don’t wanna see.” Makayla told her best friend. Daveli smacked her lips, her eyebrows “Bro. you making me want to see.” She looked at Emma from the rear view mirror. Emma just nodded, before going back to her phone. Eli hated when Makayla said those words, cause they usually involved paige.

They finally arrived at the arcade and the first thing Eli did was look at Emma. “Show me.” Emma looked up at her. “You sure? i’ll show you pero you won’t like it..” Daveli just nodded, waiting for her to show her. Emma pulled up the picture, turning her phone towards the girl. Daveli face was confused. “It’s a picture of the twins, what’s the problem?”

Emma shook her head, “look in the background, pendeja.” Daveli took a closer look and her face dropped. she really didn’t like this mia girl. but she didn’t even fully blame it on her, paige chose to be up on her too. Eli just nodded, her lips going inwards.

“Like i said yesterday, fuck em. Come on.” Emma told her as she opened her door, everyone else doing so too. Daveli just stared ahead before sighing and getting out her car. Everyone else was finding parking spots, finally meeting up with them afterwards. Daveli noticed Paige and Mia walking side by side, smiles on their faces. She just rolled her eyes and continued into the arcade.

It was packed to say the least. Kids were running around, some people eating. There was even a bar and a bowling section. Eli made sure to come here more just to do other activities as well. She could hear Metro Station playing through the speakers, making her head bob a little.

A young looking lady came in front of them. She looked around 20 or 23. She had a huge smile on her face. “Welcome. Are you Daveli?” The girl nodded her head, a smile on her face. The worker nodded, “perfect. follow me.” The group of young adults followed the worker, they walked towards the back side of the place.

She could see an escape room sign and smiled. “This is where you’ll be placed to do the escape room, a worker should be out in a second.” Daveli smiled at the lady, “thank you so much.” The girl just nodded, walking towards a group of kids. “I’m kind of scared.. ain’t this a scary one?” Jaida asked as she, Paige and the twins stood next to Daveli and them. Daveli just nodded, “It should be fun.” She answered.

Paige noticed the way Daveli didn’t really talk to her the whole time they were waiting for the worker, which made her a bit confused. She wanted to talk to the girl but Daveli stayed by Emma and Makayla. The worker finally came out, the man smiling at the group. “Hey guys. Welcome to the escape room. The one you’ll be doing is called Scare Run. through out the whole thing, there will be actors coming around and jumping at you but they won’t touch you. I’m first gonna walk you through the whole thing, so you’re comfortable.”

The man started walking towards the door and opened it for everyone to follow. Daveli quietly screeched, she absolutely loved things like this. “There’s three rooms in total. This first room, you won’t get scared too much but don’t expect to not get scared at all. You’ll have an hour to escape.” He opened the door that was inside that room and walked in. “This room, the scaring will increase by a bit. you’ll have 30 minutes.” He went into the next door that led into a hallway. A very long one. It had big windows on each side, pitch black inside.

“Down this hallway, the last room is at that door. It’ll be a long run so I hope you guys have the stamina.” Paige and Jaida laughed and dapped each other up. The sound making Eli look at the blonde. “We play basketball so this should be easy.” She spoke as she smirked at the worker. The man just laughed, “perfect!” Eli looked away before she got too lost into staring at the girl. The group walked all the way to the room.

“Last room, you’ll have 15 to escape so you have to act quick. That door we just came through automatically opens when you get close enough to just run through. And this is the end.” He opened the other door and it showed where they all left off. “In total, you have an hour and 45 minutes to get out. Good luck and have fun.”

Daveli was first to walk into the room, immediately looking around for clues. “Damn girl, can we get inside the room first?” David teased as he looked at his sister. Daveli flipped him off, suddenly the room went dark. No one could see anyone, “aw hell nah!” Jaida spoke loudly. The lights came back on but there was a body standing in the corner, making Daveli scream. “What the fuck!”

Everyone turned their attention to where she was looking and got a little frightened too. The clock was now at 58 minutes. “Come on, just look around.” Derek spoke as he and Nai went to a spot in the room. Paige, Mia, Jaida and Jayden were all together. Daveli kept taking peeks at Paige and Mia and it irritated her. “I found a note!” Azzi spoke a loud as she held it up. Everyone looked at her, waiting for her to read what it says.

“The key is the key to the solution. In order to get your next hint, use these letters to make a word and that is the code to open the treasure box.” She looked at the letters and read them out loud. “The letters are C O L A B O L A R O T N I N.”

Everyone looked confused, “set it on the table. does anyone have a pen?” Daveli asked as she kneeled on the floor in front of the table. Connie checked her purse and handed a mechanical to her. “good looks,”

The note was pretty big so she ripped a piece of it off and looked at the letters. “Does anyone have an idea? The letters right there.” Jayden looked closely and thought. Everyone was thinking, including Daveli. After a whole 5 minutes passed, mind you they’re on a time limit, Caroline spoke up. “Try.. collaboration.” Daveli looked at the girl and nodded, going towards the treasure chest.

the chest clicked, meaning it worked. Everyone cheered, David came over to clap carol on her back. The brunette just laughed, looking at everyone. Daveli opened the chest to find a key and another note. “Find the safe before it’s too late.” She read. Everyone looked at the time, it was now 40 minutes left on the clock. “Shit.”

Everyone separated, going to find the safe. There was a bookshelf, Daveli went to look through the books. As she was looking, paige thought this was a good time to try and talk to her. She walked up, and began looking through books as well. “Daveli, y-“ Daveli head turned towards Caniya when she called her name. Daveli turned her head towards the twin and smiled, immediately walking over.

Paige smiled dropped, looking at the girl walk away. “The fuck..” she whispered to herself. Jaida came over after watching the whole interaction, a small grin on her face. “You seen that, bro? what’s wrong wit her?” Jaida just shrugged, “She probably just wanna focus on getting out. Come on,” Paige just shook her head, taking one more peak at the brown skin before continuing to look.

After another 5 minutes of searching, David found the safe. “Finally, shit.” The younger girl exclaimed as she walked towards her brother. She put the key inside and opened the safe, a flash light in sight. Not just any one though, it was a black light flash light. meaning it only works in the dark. Daveli looked more inside the safe, nothing else in sight. “A flashlight?” Makayla spoke.

“It’s a black light. I-“ A scream was heard, making everyone jump. They all turned around to see a big board on the table. It had words on it, forcing everyone to read them.

‘You have found the black light. In 10 Seconds, the lights will flicker off for 5 seconds 6 times, meaning you have 5 seconds to find a 6 digit code around the room. You only get one try, don’t mess up.’

“Aw shit.” There was a marker on the table next to the board, “Someone write the numbers down as we find them.” Daveli exclaimed as she pointed at the marker. Jayden quickly volunteered, running towards the board and immediately picking up the marker. The screen that had the timer switched to a white screen. Eli had the light ready, turning it on before the lights even shut off.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

the room was black, a lady could be heard counting from 5. Daveli quickly pointed the light to the left wall, looking around before immediately being met with the number 7. “Seven!” Jayden wrote it down, the lights coming back on after the lady said 1. The lights came back on and everyone looked at Jayden. He pointed at the board, saying that he wrote it. Daveli nodded, getting the point of the mini game they were playing here.

the 10 second cool down was over and the lights came off again. This time, she checked the ceiling, looking at every corner before the number 0 came up. “Zero!” The group yelled. The five seconds were up and the lights came on again. Jayden wrote the number down and nodded towards Eli. Eli nodded at him, this wasn’t too bad. It was actually a bit easy, just four more numbers.

The lights came off again, she checked the right wall. Immediately was met with another 0. “Zero again.” Jayden wrote it down. The lights came on. A voice could be heard.

“Only three more numbers.”

“So far we have seven, zero, zero.” Jayden spoke as he looked at everyone. The light turned off again, Eli looked at the wall in front of her, it took her a little longer but she found two numbers this time, a 3 and 1. “Three and one!”

The group finally finished the escape room and was honestly impressed with themselves. They had got chased by actors down the long hallway and everyone literally fell trying to pile into the last room. It was funny, Daveli asked to record the footage from the camera and the nice man let her. “That was difficult.” Derek laughed as they all walked around.

At this point, Daveli has made it an accomplishment at ignoring paige, simply because she just didn’t wanna talk to her after what she saw. Paige saw and it was lowkey hurting her feelings. She hadn’t talked to the girl ever since they left the hotel and she wanted to talk to her about the escape room.

Daveli was laughing with Makayla and the twins as everyone walked around. “What’s wrong with you?” Mia asked as she looked up at the blonde. Paige looked down with a bothered look on her face, Mia had her arms wrapped around Paige’s left arm as they walked side by side. “Nun.” She was lying. Not talking to Daveli all day was messing with her. If they didn’t talk, they at least texted but this was new to paige. She hadn’t realize how much of an impact Eli had on her.

“You seem bothered.” Mia spoke as her eyes grew soft. Paige forced herself not to roll her eyes and pull away from the girl. “I ain’t. Come on,” Another lie. The girl walked faster to catch up with everyone else. The two didn’t see but Daveli had been looking at them, her countenance sour.

“Yo, is anyone hungry?” Derek spoke a loud. Agreements could be heard around the group, letting him know everything he needed.

He walked towards the restaurant part of the arcade and found two empty tables next to each other. Him and Derek pushed the long tables together so everyone could be with each other. Everyone took a seat, Daveli was sandwiched between the twins and Makayla. Paige and Mia sat right in front of her, Derek being on Mia’s side while jaida sat next to paige.

Daveli internally screamed, why did they have to sit right there? She looked at her best friend to see the brown girl already looking at her. They talked with their eyes before David’s loud voice interrupted. “Imma get four pizzas, pepperoni, sausage, what else?” Daveli quickly spoke up. “Cheese!” Ew’s could be heard around the table. She widen her eyes, “you guys are so childish.” David shook his head, “Imma get two pepperonis, one sausage and cheese. That’s good?” Everyone agreed and david waited for a waiter to come up to the table.

Daveli tried not to look in front of her but it was kind of hard not to, she saw paige already looking at her. The brown girl quickly looked away, she was about to talk to Connie but the song that came on the speakers made her stop. ‘When Will I See You Again’ by Wakka was heard. This was her and paige’s song. The two would always listen to it when Paige came over, and they’d post each other to it sometimes too.

Daveli tried her hardest not to look at the 19 year old but she couldn’t bare the blue eyes she felt on her. They made eye contact as their favorite part came on.

when will i see you, see you, see you again

i just wanna hold your hand

she wanted to scream, cry, throw up and storm off, but she controlled herself. She sighed in disbelief as she saw Mia pull the girl closer to her and looked back at the twins. She forced a smile when Caniya showed her a reel on instagram. Paige was thinking the same thing at the same time. Her heart stopped for a bit when she heard the first few words from the speaker. It brought back memories for when the two used of hang out a lot more.

David finally ordered the pizza, letting everyone know it’ll be ready soon. Emma was thinking about what they’d do after they eat. It was still a bit early before they all had to leave and she wanted to do one last thing. “Yall tryna do laser tag after we eat?” She asked around the table.

Everyone was up for it, laser tag was always lit growing up. Now doing it with a group of friends at this age was the cherry on top. The pizza finally arrived with three pitchers of Sprite, Dr. Pepper and water. “Let’s eat!” David exclaimed.

After about 30 minutes of eating and letting food digest, everyone was ready for laser tag. Luckily, most kids and their families were leaving so little to no people were in line. As they approached the entrance, a boy around they age stood. “What’s up.” He spoke as she let everyone in. Everyone spoke back, gladly walking into the room. He closed the door behind them as he let them watch the rule video which no one ever followed in their life.

“He was fine..” Caniya spoke as she bit her finger. Connie laughed at her twin, shaking her head. “Meh..” Caniya smacked her lips, “girl your type is white and asian boys so obviously you’d think he isn’t fine.” Connie nodded her head, she loved her some asians and whites.

Daveli stood by Azzi, the girl still upset from earlier. that song made her think about paige the whole time they walked towards the laser tag part of the arcade. She didn’t wanna feel like this right now. David noticed his sister quietness considering the fact that she loved laser tag.

“Davie.” Eli looked towards her brother, knowing that’s his personal nickname for her. “You good?” he mouth towards her. Eli looked at paige and mia. they were watching the video, eli noticed their hands touching.

she just looked at her brother, smiled, and nodded. She turned towards the screen, not really having any interest in the video but it’d stop her from looking at paige.

after the video was over, the same boy that let them in, came inside as well. he turned on the light and led them to where the vests and guns were. the colors were red and blue, Eli automatically walking towards blue.

“Ight, before we start. what’s the teams?” Jaida asked as she looked at everyone. Eli grabbed Makayla, Emma, Azzi, Carol, Connie and Caniya, and Mj. “We team blue, aka the winning team.” She spoke as she fixed her vest. Paige was a bit upset Eli didn’t choose her but she was happy to be with David.

“Stop being delusional, davie. we all know team red gon win.” She waved him off, waiting for her team to finish up fixing their stuff. The worker waited till everyone was ready, “i’m pretty sure yall know what to do. if you run out, just go back to your corner to recharge your guns. That’s really it, have fun.” He opened the door to the arena and everyone went to their designated sides.

“Starting in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Everyone immediately started running, shots being fired already. Daveli was camping. She was waiting for someone to come in view to shoot them. She had her gun ready, she could see Derek walking around. Immediately shooting at him, running away when he noticed he got shot. “Fuck!”

As daveli was running, she found a wall to hide behind with an opening. She placed her gun in the hole and again, waited for someone to come in sight. As she was waiting, she wasn’t paying attention behind her and someone grabbed her waist. It was dark, the only lights are the led lights flashing around so she really couldn’t make out who grabbed her until they stopped. “What th-“

“chill, d. it’s me.” Her heart dropped. She did not want to talk to the blonde and was doing good with that. Guess she couldn’t avoid her forever. Daveli rolled her eyes and turned towards the blue eyed girl.

“what’s up?” Daveli made her voice sound irritated. She didn’t wanna sound too nervous. “What’s wrong witchu? you ain’t talk to me since we left the hotel.” Paige looked down at the girl. Daveli knew this was coming, she really wanted to leave the conversation. “Nothing.” She simply answered.

Paige wasn’t taking that for an answer. She smacked her lips and grabbed the girl by her wrist, pulling towards a secluded corner. “Dude, i’m not slow. what’s wrong?” Daveli shook her head, looking at her gun, debating. “Daveli.” She looked up, her right eye brow raised.

“are you and mia something?” it slipped out, she didn’t mean to actually ask her that. It was already too late, paige looked at her confused. “Don’t look stupid, paige. I saw you guys in the car.” Paige thought back to earlier. Daveli didn’t stop though, “And all at the escape room. I mean you guys were all over each other.”

paige looked at her. “it’s.. it’s complicated. I-“ Daveli quickly cut her off. “It’s obviously not complicated if you guys are walking around hand and hand. you look like a couple.” daveli was letting her jealous side come out. She got mad thinking about it again. “Daveli, i” She wasn’t trying to hear the girl.

“She wants you paige. just secure the bag.” Daveli started to get sad, thinking about paige being someone else’s for the 5th time. Paige noticed the girls tone. “Daveli.”

The brown girl looked at her. Paige needed to know.

“Why do you care?”

Daveli felt tears, she wouldn’t let them fall. ‘I care because I love you paige. I never stopped, and it kills me to see you with someone else who isn’t me.’ is what she could’ve said. it’s what she wanted to say. But she didn’t. She didn’t because it wouldn’t make sense and it would fuck up a lot of things. Instead, she went with the safest option.

“I don’t.”

Daveli slowly raised her gun and shot paige in her vest, the buzzer indicating that time was up. The two stared at each other until they heard their teammates yelling their names. Daveli gave her one last glance before walking away. Saying what she wanted would’ve ended badly and she was positive it would. This was gonna be hard for the young girl, seeing that she almost confessed to her crush. She was just scared of how Paige would take it. In her mind, she thought Paige only strictly thought of her as a little sister.

She said that before a few years ago and it stuck with her ever since. She was heartbroken to say the least but she never gave up on Paige.

Maybe it’s time to.

omgosh guys holy smokes i actually love this chapter

anywho

next chapter will probably be boring idk i have to see

taglist : @melpthatsme @prettygirl-gabi @rebecca-woso @starfulani @avvwritesstufff @evry1luvzzae @hearts4morgancheli

#uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #basketball #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #this is what makes us girls #azzi fudd #caroline ducharme #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic

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roosterr · 2 years ago

Text

white flag ✹ interlude

note: this chapter is a lil shorter than usual, I just wanted to include a lil bonding moment for reader and ghost before the events of next chapter :)

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: you and ghost go people watching in the local park, plus a little heart to heart

warnings: just some much needed fluff :)

ao3

【prev】 || 【next】

one warm shower and a couple of ibuprofen later, you're feeling mostly human again with a manageable headache and a reasonable amount of regret for how pathetic you’d acted. with time you’d get over that, especially now that ghost had finally seen the light and started treating you with some decency. admittedly though, his change in attitude threw you off earlier; you were bracing for a stern lecture and he essentially brushed it off as though it didn't matter, but you’ve decided not to dwell on that fact.

small victories, as they say.

for the very first time, the pair of you were both sitting across from each other at the tiny kitchen table, in your own worlds; the radio was faintly playing some classic rock station in the background as ghost had his nose in his book and you played some mindless game on your phone. you’d honestly prefer to be reading a good book too, but your collection was currently ash in the wind, so this would have to do.

you're tempted to try starting a conversation, the quiet was giving you far too much room to think, but on the other hand the atmosphere is so peaceful it would be a shame to ruin it.

so you set your phone down on the table and turn your eyes to ghost, watching him scan the pages, his head tilted slightly in concentration. he's washed most of the paint from around his eyes – that was probably done yesterday, not that you noticed – so only a few smudges mark his skin. with the black paint gone, you notice the raised bumps of old scars around his eyes, something you'd never paid much attention to before. you know better than to ask, but you do wonder, in the back of your mind, the stories behind all of them. examining them gives you inexplicable urge to run your fingers over them, to soothe the ache having so many of them must cause.

his dark eyes are like black holes, drawing in your attention and refusing to let you escape their grasp. you're vaguely aware of how long you've been staring at his face, but you don't care to snap yourself out of it until he speaks up.

"what?" he grumbles, not bothering to look up from the page. you quickly look away, down to where your hands idly fiddle with your phone on the table.

"question."

"hm?" he hums in acknowledgement, but still doesn't look at you. normally you'd give up at this point, assuming he was completely uninterested in what you had to say, but this time you decide to push your luck.

"you fancy a walk to the park?"

finally, he meets your eyes, looking up through his light eyelashes and blinking once as he contemplates his answer. you resist the urge to break eye contact as he stares right through you.

"...alright." he says, wedging his bookmark between the pages and sets the book down on the table.

you weren't expecting him to say yes, but you're pleasantly surprised that he did; it felt slightly surreal that after all this time, you were finally becoming friends with ghost. your eyes follow him as he stands, leaving the room to, presumably, change his mask while you sit there with a bewildered look on your face.

a minute or so passes before you hear his voice again. "you comin'?" he calls from the entryway, bringing you back to the present.

"oh– yeah, one second!" you jump up from your chair and rush to get ready as well. the grin you wore as you rushed past him to fetch your jacket was unconscious, the feeling lighting up your features and overshadowing and lingering thoughts from the night before.

a few moments later you're tugging your boots on and you're both walking out the door together, side by side. for once it's actually a nice day, so the short walk to the park is a pleasant one under the blue sky and warm sunlight.

"sorry again, for last night. i think that's gonna haunt me for the rest of my life." you look over to ghost with an apologetic expression, and you can't help but feel that the expression he gives back is one of amusement despite not being able to see half his face.

"that's twice you've screamed at me now." he says, keeping pace with you for a change rather than marching ahead as he usually does.

"i didn't scream at you!" you attempt to defend yourself, but thinking back on it you change your mind. "alright, the second time maybe i did,"

"maybe."

"but the first time, i was very collected." you continue. "it was quite satisfying, to be honest."

"i suppose i deserved it." his gaze falls to the ground and, even though he's right – he did deserve it – you do feel a little bad.

"seriously, though," you continue, "thank you, for looking after me last night. you didn't have to, and i know you didn't want to, but i really appreciate it."

"anyone would'a done the same…" he mutters, bringing a hand up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head. you get the feeling he's not used to people showing their appreciation for him, which only encourages you to carry on.

"and thanks for taking me in, i know having some random idiot in your house is the last thing you want." you give him a warm smile as he looks at you from the corner of his eye.

"well, you're not just any idiot, are you?" he says, earning a questioning tilt of your head. "you're sting. the idiot."

a genuine laugh escapes you, the first one in a long time, and you gently nudge ghost's arm with your elbow.

"oh, lovely, thanks mate." you chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. you see his eyes lift in a barely noticeable smile, the sight causing a warm feeling to bloom in your chest.

you arrive at the park fairly quickly, finding yourselves an out of the way bench to occupy under the partial shade of a nearby oak tree. you're enveloped by a comfortable silence as you both simply observe the beauty of nature and bask in the feeling of the sun on your face.

you're not sure how long the two of you sit there in each other's company, but you find yourself subconsciously drifting closer to him, close enough that your knees just about touch. you're sure he notices – there isn't much that gets by him – but he doesn't show it.

"did you hear they figured out how the fire started?" you keep your voice low to preserve the peaceful quiet, turning your head to look at him as you ask.

"oh yeah? how?"

"ugh…" you groan with the annoyance the memory bring up. "my stupid neighbour left a fucking candle burning all night, the twat."

"what a fuckin' idiot…" he glances briefly in your direction, a sympathetic frown on his face.

"i can never look at candles the same way again, they're tainted now." you drag a hand over your face and shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.

there's another pause in the conversation as you stare ahead, watching the trees sway in the breeze and all the people going about their lives, everything cast in a golden glow from sun.

you don't want it to end, the way the two of you are now. this is the most you've ever spoken to echother, outside of arguments, and you really want to make the most of it.

"nice weather today, right?" you try to keep him talking to you, and you're considering the fact that he hasn't told you to shut up yet as a good sign.

"hm." ghost hums and leans his head back, his eyes fluttering shut. "you gonna ask me what my favourite colour is again?"

"c'mon, throw me a bone here." you turn your body to face him more. "actually what is it, though?"

"...green."

"i knew it!" you exclaim, a triumphant grin pulling at your lips. "it makes sense, you just have 'dark green' vibes."

"i'll take your word for it."

it's difficult to know what to talk about with him, seeing as you've never actually been friendly before and you've already used the only small talk question you could think of.

"hmm…" your eyes roam over the park, looking for something to give you an idea. eventually you land on a scrappy little white dog, with possibly the worst haircut you've ever seen. "look at that woman's dog," you point it out to ghost, snickering at the way it was resisting its owner as she pulled it along. "i feel bad for the little guy."

"is that a dog? thought it was an oversized rat."

"oh my god!" you snort a laugh, covering your mouth with a hand and throwing your head back. you hear ghost chuckle lightly beside you, and when you turn your head to look back at him you find him already looking at you.

all other thoughts leave your mind when you see how his eyes glow a golden colour in the light of the sun. you feel the tips of your ears heating up and quickly face forward again before he has a chance to notice.

luckily another distraction presents itself almost immediately, in the form of a well-dressed office worker sprinting past you at full speed.

"wow," you mutter, your eyes following him as he disappears around a bend in the path, "he's not hangin' about."

"maybe he left a candle burnin'." ghost looks back to you, a playful glint in his eyes you're not sure you've ever seen on him.

you can't help the grin that pulls at your lips at his terrible joke. "aw, ghost," you groan, gently shoving him as he chuckles at your reaction, "you're wrong for that one."

ghost slouches into the bench as you both look back out across the park, shifting so his thigh presses against yours ever so slightly. you're careful not to react, afraid that he'd pull away if you draw attention to the gesture, and resolve to just enjoy the rare closeness of his presence.

eventually you'd have to head back, but for now you were more than content to sit here and watch the world go by with him.

taglist: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling

if your name is crossed out, it means i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry! ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes

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waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle · 1 year ago

Text

ᵤₙfₒᵣₜᵤₙₐₜₑₗy ₛₘᵢₜₜₑₙ ₍ₘₐfᵢₐ bₒₛₛ! Gₒⱼₒ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ₎

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Summary: Life leads you to treacherous roads after deciding to enter the dangerous life you knew well not to follow.Having gojo by your side inviting you deeper and deeper into all that’s wrong in the world, inciting you to be selfish and carefree wasn’t supposed to be to your liking, so why do you shiver with adrenaline every time he decides to be the devil on your shoulder?

Contents: Mafia boss gojo x secretary reader.(civilian au ig)

-Secret crush!!

-Yandere Gojo.

Gojo being an egocentric bitch! Wealthy gojo! X no nonsense reader.

Tags<33333:

Warnings: Simp Gojo ig, trigger warning if you’re not interested in anything mafia related. The narration of this story is inspired by Latin and Asian mafia.

*　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦

The car was slightly quiet, besides Gojo’s occasional replies to his phone call. The chauffeur seemed to have his mouth taped shut, only focusing on taking you to the warehouse where your boss's jets are stored.

The 3 a.m. breeze passing through the window and kissing your face is starting to make your cheeks cold to the touch. The night’s temperature makes you kind of regret your outfit choice, but what could you say? Leaving the drugs and mafia behind, it was your first time visiting China! You were so excited for every new experience there was to offer. You may be there on a “business trip,” but considering all your expenses are paid, you might as well make it memorable. That led you to go all out when choosing the first outfit you’d wear when flying private. Your chest was adorned by a burgundy sleeveless turtleneck top, a black miniskirt that hugged your waist, and some below-the-knee leather-heeled boots that combined with your top.

You quickly shook the regret away. Your priority is to progress on this week's worth of work, taking advantage of the current free time you have. Your soft fingertips quickly tapped the warm computer resting on your thighs. Unbeknownst to yourself, the tall figure with fluffy white hair scratched his undercut with one hand while the other lazily held the phone close to his ear. He couldn’t help but dare to take a peek at your smooth legs. He tried to contain himself, which he really did, but his eyes couldn’t help but wander up your thighs. The phone call is now long forgotten, only working as a background nose for his shameful fantasy, where he lies his head on your cushiony, soft thighs while your long nails trace figures along his scalp.

-“Whatcha looking at don’t like my outfit or what?”-You question catching him off guard after finally noticing his burning stare.

Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise, but his ego wasn’t going to let him keep quiet and possibly seem embarrassed in front of you or anyone. So he quickly fixed his posture and struck back.

-“Are those the boots I gave you for Christmas? It's the first time I’ve seen you wear them. They don’t look completely hideous on you.”

Gojo thanked whatever god still had mercy on him for giving him the perfect excuse to look your way.

-“It is the first time I’m wearing them!!! How did you notice?” - You giggled at him shamelessly, flashing him your pearly whites. How could you do this to him? Now he wanted to buy every pair of boots in the world just to see your smile as you showed them off to him and blushed at him.-“ I wish I was as easily observant as you. You’re once again correct. I just wanted to save them for a nice event.”

-“You've never been on a plane before?"

-“Not a private one.”

Poor you.

So your first time is going to be with me, huh? How sweet.” Gojo joked proudly, wearing a smug smile.

You threw some sticky notes at his head that you had in your purse, to which he just responded with a low and slow cackle.

The chauffeur looked back in surprise, wondering how you still had all your extremities together after disrespecting the boss like that.

You now rest your chin on the window as you approach the warehouse. After passing various checkpoints with armed men in the middle of nowhere, you finally arrive at his warehouse.

Geto ordered around the employees as they packed something onto the jet. You couldn’t continue snooping since one of your guards opened the door to signal you to leave the car.

As you get off, you feel the rough concrete make friction with your boots. As you start to explore the view, you see like five warehouses surrounding the pathway. As your assistants grab the luggage in the trunk, you look around for familiar faces.

You promptly see your boss appear from the side of the train and shortly walk over to you.

-“Ladies first.” -He points with his head to the open silver jet door.

You glance back at him in a distrusting manner and soon head into the aircraft. The cabin smelled sterile, the hallways were wide and decorated with cashmere white seats adorned by cedar walls with floating tables and big round windows to your side was a twin bed with feathery pillows and cushiony covers.

-“Can i sleep here? If I fall asleep right now, I might avoid jet lag.” - You ask this question while settling down on the bouncy bed, you avoided giving any compliments to your boss, you didn’t want to seem easily surprised by his extravagant wealth.

-“Tired already? I thought you wanted to spend the night with me.”-He banters as usual.

-“As if you could offer me a good night.”- You joke back, and he simply raises an eyebrow.-“I’m feeling a little groggy, but if you need me up, I’ll be charging you a nighttime fee in USD of course, since we are traveling internationally.”

Gojo opens his mouth to respond but is shortly interrupted by his godmother.

-“Gas tanks are full; flights starting in 5.”-Comments the raven head while serving himself and Gojo a cup of whiskey from the bar.

-“Want some?” -He asks, looking toward your direction.

-“It’s 3 a.m.; what type of question is that? Pass the bottle, bro.”-You respond while tying your hair for a fun night.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Your knocked-out body is seen slugging on the before mentioned bed, neck in a creepy pose and your cheeks painted red. Your skirt is slightly riding up on your thighs,barely noticeable to the untrained eye,but still too much for Gojo's liking.

Gojo and Geto are sitting down in the seats in front of you, enjoying the spectacle of your drunken self. They’re still completely sober from their third glass of whisky.

Gojo takes his phone out and is about to take a picture until Geto grabs his hand.

-“Better not; what if she gets mad and fucks up our taxes.”- His best friend intervenes.

Gojo quietly nods and reincorporates himself into his seat, spreading his legs as far as possible , sliding his Ferragamo shoes across the carpet to touch your boots with the tip of his footwear.

After strutting back into the cabin from speaking with the pilots in the cockpit,Geto lets gojo know that they’re landing in Sanduzhen in about an hour, just to later disappear into one of the rooms on the jet. Meanwhile, Gojo is still staring at your freshly run-over deer pose.

You look so uncomfortable.

You may even wake up with neck pain.

He wasn’t very content with the thought of you waking up hungover and with neck pain.

He sat up and looked around to see if anyone was looking at him, then strategically hooked his arm under your knees while grasping your arms with the other hand. Once he had you in a bridal position, he crouched down a bit and grabbed your leather purse to later stand back up again. He was so tempted to just stand there and hold you in his arms like a big baby and feel your hot breath tickle his neck, but he recognized you both have a busy day ahead of you, so he simply had to ignore your sweet cotton candy perfume and lay you to rest. He swiftly headed to the back of the cabin, where his bedroom is located, to next effortlessly open the door and shut it behind himself.

He laid your limp body cozily on the comforter, and he then proceeded to carefully sit on the bed while side-eyeing you to see if you would flutter your eyes open and catch him red-handed. Once he confirmed you were out like a light, he gently unzipped your boots and put them aside to then cover you with the thickest, softest blanket he could find.

He just as carefully stood up and was just about to walk off and do whatever shady shit he usually does when he realized he deserved a treat for being such a gentleman, right?

He crouched down to your face level and took his big, cold, and scarily pale hand and tamed the wild hairs that cover your face. His pointer finger then started to trace all your factions. He could feel his cheeks burn as your soft skin met with his finger tips. As if he weren’t already testing the limits of his self-control, his gaze faltered at the sight of your pink, rosy lips, slightly agape. He was better than this; he knew better than to fantasize about locking lips with his secretary. But he needed to get something out of it, something that was worth the agony he experienced at the thought that he couldn’t just lay next to you and cuddle away the cold, something worth his jagged breaths as he tried to ignore your intoxicating scent or worth making him hate himself as he acted like a teenage boy around you, like he wasn’t beheading some messengers from a rival gang then sending some of their parts to their boss and their families.

So he said, Fuck it, and submerged his head between your neck and hair as he inhaled your essence. After getting drunk on your scent, he backed off and planted a chaste kiss on your bare shoulder. He wishes to plant many more, but one is all he can afford for the moment.

Then he decided to finally leave before doing anything crazy, and to his luck he managed to withdraw from his room a few minutes before Geto left his own.

-“Satoru.”

-“Yeah?” The white-haired man replied, concealing his previous high adrenaline rush.

-“Do you think she’ll find out?”

After his best friend muttered that sentence, every drop of joy drained from his system.

-"What’s done is done.”

The godmothers face winced before an announcement was heard on the cabin speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s your pilot speaking; we have arrived in Shanghai, mainland China.”

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A/n: Hello my beautiful angels , I hope you enjoyed this chapter. What do you guys think gojo is hiding from the reader? Did you like the secret one sided romance going on? I’d like to remember y’all that suggestions and request are open. Once again comments are appreciated, until next time, kisses.💋

Poll for funsies

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autumnshighlady · 1 year ago

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Run For Your Life (pt. 2)

Dark!Azriel x dark!reader

summary: you've been with Azriel for 6 months now, and you began to embrace your twisted side. Azriel finds out what happens with you're pissed off, and you decide to punish him.

special dedication to @febbrile for giving me this idea for part 2

warnings: DARK FIC! both Az and reader are unhinged psychos, sub!azriel, dom!reader, flirting, possessiveness, knife play, orgasm denial, masturbation, face sitting, gore and violence, terrible communication, there's one thing that's deliberately left unclear (send me an ask with what you think it is / what actually happened)

word count: 8.7k

see the playlist for this fic

read part 1 here

A/N: As you may know, i've had a very rough few days. I was going to take a break from writing but decided to finish this fic up first, so the last 500 ish words are rushed and i apologize for that but i hope you enjoy anyway

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” He purred before his shadows encompassed him and he vanished, leaving you alone wondering what just happened.

SIX MONTHS LATER

You tapped your nails on the wooden bartop, scowling. The whiskey burned your throat, but you barely felt it. You were pretty sure a male from a few seats down from you was trying to get your attention, but his yappy voice faded into the background. The skin tight black dress you donned was constricting, making your skin sticky and sweaty. But you paid it no mind, for your attention was elsewhere.

Azriel was chatting with a pretty female over by the counter where you order food. She was tall and leggy, curly black hair swept into an elegant updo that showed off the open back of her dress. Her hand was brushing against Azriel’s arm, her head thrown back in a high pitched laugh at a joke that surely can’t have been that funny. Anger shot through your veins as Azriel’s white canines flashed in a charming smile, not even glancing your direction.

You couldn’t decide whose throat you wanted to slit more.

For the past six months, Azriel’s visits had become an everyday routine. At first, you had resisted, attempting to fight him off as you began to realise one night wasn’t enough to satisfy his obsession with you. He always emerged victorious, always getting what he wanted in the end, your traitorous body urging you to let him take care of you. It had taken you a few weeks to come to your senses, but you were glad. Azriel knew exactly how to take care of you, not just in the bedroom, but in everyday life. He chose your outfits for you, your meals, your nights out, everything. At first, you hated it. But now, it was freeing. You no longer had to worry about anything, knowing Azriel would take care of it.

Azriel took excellent care of things that belonged to him.

Every cell in your body needed him now. He was like oxygen, a constant requirement to keep your body going. Every second the shadowsinger spent away from you was pure torture, leaving you a whiny mess when he returned from work. To anyone else, it would seem pathetic, like you were a helpless wreck of a female. But they couldn’t be more wrong. It was the opposite – it made you powerful. Not only did you belong to Azriel, but Azriel belonged to you. You had the spymaster of the Night Court all to yourself, wrapped around your finger and ready to bend the world to your whim.

Except it didn’t feel that way right now, as the male you were now completely obsessed with was eyeing up the cleavage on another female. You scowled harder as he did nothing to deter the female as she stepped even closer to him, practically crawling into his lap. The bartender handed you another shot, and you angrily downed it, not even feeling the burn.

A male slid into the seat next to you, so close you could smell his cheap cologne. He was on the shorter side, blonde shaggy hair framing his boyish face. Large eyes drank in your figure hungrily, and he slid a hand up your back with the confidence of a much more attractive male. “Another drink for the lady over here.” He said to the bartender, flashing you what he must have thought was a charming smile. “So, what’s a pretty female like you doing–”

“Fuck off.” You grumbled, interrupting him. You reached behind and slapped his arm off your back, his skin like a wad of slime on your own.

“Oh, come on, baby,” The male persisted. “I just bought you a drink. The least you could do is entertain me.”

You groaned inwardly, sneaking a glance at Azriel. He had finally looked up at you, hazel eyes simmering with rage. The female leaning against him was too busy giggling to notice that his attention was no longer on her. His scarred hand was limp on her waist, his body frozen as he glared at you. It made you snort, how hypocritical he was being to only look at you when another male had your attention, despite him being the one with a female draping herself all over him.

So you ignored the shadowsinger. Let him have a hissy fit, as far as you were concerned he was going to fuck the pretty female anyway. If he can branch out, why can’t you. You quickly downed the drink the bartender sat in front of you, then turned toward the blonde male next to you, giving him your best sultry look. “I have a better idea,” You purred. “Why don’t I entertain you somewhere else?”

His eyes widened, a look of surprise and glee crossing his face as he fumbled to toss some money to the bartender for the drinks. You gathered your purse, turning around to meet Azriel’s stare once again. Rage came off him in waves, causing the few fae around him to scatter themselves elsewhere. Even the female that had been all over him had taken a step back in uncertainty, her eyes flickering between him and where his gaze was fixed – you. The spymaster’s body was frozen, a muscle in his neck twitching in anger. You half expected him to storm over and fling the male aside, grab you by the waist and drag you home to punish you. But he did no such thing. He only glared at you as you grabbed the male by the arm, leading him towards the exit.

You didn’t glance back at Azriel as the male followed you out of the bar and down the road towards the nearby motel.

**********************

Sunlight crept in through the small window next to the bed. The motel’s breakfast was dry and tasteless on your tongue, but you downed it anyway. The bed sheets were half on the floor, your dress from last night draped across the chair in the corner. You were wearing the male’s button-up shirt, the itchy fabric pungent with his scent mixed with yours, the bottom barely long enough to cover your ass. It was uncomfortable, but your dress got ruined last night anyway. You’d have to find somewhere to dispose of it properly.

You had a pounding headache, but the memories from last night couldn’t have been more clear. The images of Azriel’s angry glare, the male’s hands on your body, the pathetic noises he made for you after you left the bar, they were all crystal clear in your mind. You were still furious with Azriel, but satisfied that you got him back.

However, a part of you knew he was angrier than ever before. There had not been a trace of his presence all night, not even his shadows that seemed to always be around you, reporting your every movement back to him. Evidently, he hadn’t even tried to find out where you had gone last night. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous – either Azriel had abandoned you completely, or he was sitting at home, just waiting for you to return.

You shuddered, wondering what he was going to do to you. Maybe he truly would leave you for the other female, maybe that’s how mad he was.

No. You weren’t going to let him do that.

You downed the rest of the breakfast, gathering your things to get ready to check out. You sighed when you realised you had no pants, as the only thing the male had left behind was his undershirt. You stuffed your ruined dress in a paper bag, shut off the lights and left the motel room, not caring that your ass was nearly on display for the world to see.

First stop was to find some pants, and then you had business to take care of.

**********************

Luckily, it didn’t take you long to find a store to obtain some pants. Everyone had stared at your bare legs as you wandered in, but you didn’t care. In fact, it made you chuckle. If Azriel was here, he would have gone ballistic. He was the only one allowed to see you like this. If he knew that over a dozen people had seen your ass cheeks in the last hour, you couldn’t even imagine what he’d have done.

With a set of pants, you had returned to the bar, posing as a friend of the female Azriel was with last night and trying to find out more about her. The mother seemed to be on your side that day, as one of the bartenders was a close friend of hers. He blabbed easily, and within minutes you were able to find out her name, where she usually went on Saturday mornings like this one, and where she lived. Her name was Beatrice, and she always went to the farmer’s market every weekend to pick up fresh vegetables for the week. She lived in a house near the theatre, right in the heart of the city.

So you wandered towards the farmer’s market, hair down and hanging loosely around your face to hide it. The air was crisp and fresh, chatter from the market filling the air as you hovered in the corner, pretending to sift through a barrel of apples.

It wasn’t hard to spot Beatrice. Her curly black hair was trailing down her back, her cheeks flushed with evidence of a hangover. She wore a simple pair of black leggings and a yellow sweater, a cheerful smile on her face as she chatted with one of the vendors. It was almost annoying how she looked just as elegant as she had last night. You made sure to trail her from a distance, staying out of her sight. You wondered if Azriel would be proud, but shook off the thought as soon as it came.

Once you were sure Beatrice only had a few more things to pick up at the market, you slunk down one of the alleys and headed towards her house. You knew it was the fastest way, allowing you to get to her house before she did.

It was a modest home, sunflowers lining the windowsill and a small swing on the porch. The trim was a deep brown, the wooden accents giving it a charming feel. You crept towards one of the windows along the side of the house, sneaking a glance behind you to ensure nobody was watching. You knew breaking into a house in one of the busiest parts of the city was risky. But that was also the beauty of it – there was so much going on that nobody paid attention to you.

It wasn’t hard to take a small knife and pop open the window then crawl through. You gently closed it behind you, then scanned the interior. You were in the living room, and you couldn’t deny that it impressed you. An elegant piano was in the corner, a large couch next to it with a soft-looking blanket with butterflies on it draped over the top. Various trinkets were scattered across the room, ranging from ancient-looking candle holders to a small music box designed to look like a bird cage.

You couldn’t scent Azriel in the room, much to your surprise. But that surprise was replaced by anger – if he hadn’t taken her here, then he could have taken her to his home. The thought made you see red, but you took deep breaths and settled yourself on the sofa. Beatrice would be home any minute.

About ten minutes later, the sound of keys turning the lock at the door snapped your attention back to the present. The door opened, and Beatrice entered with a large bag of vegetables. She didn’t notice you at first, closing the door behind her and turning the lock shut.

“You know, you should really lock your windows too.” You spoke casually, and the female whirled around in fright, dropping her groceries. Her brown eyes widened in fear as they met yours, and you smirked.

“What… who the hell are you and why are you in my living room?” Beatrice stammered, backing herself up against the door.

You snorted, fiddling with the necklace you had picked up off the coffee table. It was the one she was wearing last night, you remembered – a gold chain with a small emerald. “Oh, come on,” You snorted. ‘You clearly didn’t have that much to drink last night, seeing as you were able to grocery shop this morning. Think harder.”

She frowned, and then her face went slack as the realisation appeared to hit. “You were at the bar last night. I saw you leave with that blonde male. Azriel was furious about it.”

Bingo. “Ah, so you know Azriel then.”

“Not really. We met last night and flirted. It was going well until he saw you with that male, then things got tense.”

Your voice was cold as ice as you spoke. “So Azriel flirted back, then?”

Beatrice shrugged. “Yes? I see no issue with that considering you left with another male, I assumed you weren’t together. Would you mind telling me what the fuck is going on so you can leave?”

“Come, sit.” You patted the space next to you. Beatrice stayed still for a moment, then carefully walked over to the couch. Her body was tense as she sat down, her breathing shallow.

“Look,” She said slowly. “I don’t know what the deal between you two is. I thought he was available, because he flirted back with me. He did not mention you, and I am sorry about that. But then he went quiet when he saw you with the male, and he was furious when you left with him. He tried to keep flirting with me after, tried to convince me to let him come home with me, but I turned him down. I wasn’t about to be caught up between some weird power struggle between what seems to be a fighting couple. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him use me as revenge. So I rejected his advances and went home alone. That’s all, I promise.”

You swallowed the bile in your throat. Azriel had started this by flirting with Beatrice, you had every reason to retaliate. You knew Azriel probably wanted to take her home, but hearing it out loud made it even worse.

Your face must have given it away, because Beatrice’s expression softened a bit. “I’m sorry, I really am. This must be hard to hear.” She said quietly. “But in his defence, you went home with another male–”

“Shut up!” You yelled, slamming a fist into the table in front of you and making it shake. “Don’t defend him, I wouldn’t have gone home with that male if Azriel hadn’t been flirting with you first.”

Beatrice flinched away from you, fear beginning to creep back into her expression once again as she stood up. “I’m sorry,” She said. “I’m not here to judge you. I don’t want any part of this. But I’ve explained my side to you, so I think it’s best you leave.”

Beatrice walked over to where her groceries lay all over the floor and began picking them up. You bit your lip so hard you nearly drew blood, fist trembling with anger. You knew you should feel relieved that Azriel hadn’t fucked Beatrice, but that wasn’t enough.

So you took deep breaths, relaxing your body and leaning back into the soft cushion. “I’m better, you know.” You said, voice dropping huskily.

The female froze, turning around to face you once again. “What?”

“I’m better than Azriel.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do.” Your voice purred like a cat as you stood up, walking over to Beatrice. She didn’t move as you closed in on her space, your body less than a foot from hers. You could smell her sweet scent, honey and lavender, you noted. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and you leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Azriel is good in bed, but not as good as I am. Sure, he would have given you an enjoyable night, a great one even. And since Azriel is mine, and he failed to give you what you sought after, I feel I am obligated to fulfil your needs in his stead.”

Beatrice inhaled sharply, and you chuckled. You had always enjoyed bedding both males and females, and it had been so long with you submitting to Azriel that you had almost forgotten what it was like to seduce a beautiful female.

“I don’t want to get caught up in whatever this is between you two…” Beatrice’s voice was weak, the scent of her growing arousal betraying her lie.

“Oh, but this is just between you and me.” You said coolly, brushing a curly lock from her face. “Our little secret.”

When you cupped her cheek, she leaned into your touch. Satisfied, you smiled and stepped closer, pressing your body against hers. Your lips brushed hers as you spoke. “I need to hear you say it,” You murmured, caressing her waist with your free hand. “That you want me. Not him.”

“I…” Beatrice’s voice was barely above a whisper. She leaned forward in an attempt to connect her lips with your own, but you drew back.

“Be a good girl and say it.”

“I want you, not him.” She moaned as you squeezed her waist gently. “Please.”

You smiled, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door at the back where you knew her bedroom was.

**********************

The sun was setting as you made your way back home, a small bag of vegetables in hand. The orange rays from the sunset reflected off the emerald necklace, the chain cold as ice around your neck. You knew Azriel would be waiting for you, and you were ready. You ignored the chill of the wind, still in the male’s shirt whose name you never bothered to learn. It offered you little protection against the cold, and you looked forward to the warmth of your home.

Stepping up to your door, the house looked empty. It was an illusion to anyone who walked by. You could sense Azriel’s presence in there, like an icy frost on the wood just waiting to bite you. But you didn’t care what Azriel’s wrath would bring. You had your own plan.

You swung open the door, locking it behind you and placing the bag of vegetables on your counter.

“Would you mind telling me where the fuck you’ve been?”

Having expected him to make a dramatic out-of-the-dark entrance, you didn’t flinch like you used to when he’d sneak up on you. You sighed in annoyance, knowing it’d infuriate him more. “Farmer’s market.” You said dryly.

Azriel’s towering form appeared from the shadows, coming across to face you on the other side of the counter. You knew he was glaring at you, but you didn’t spare him a glance. “From sunup to sundown?” He demanded.

You shrugged, laying out the vegetables. “It was a busy farmer’s market.”

A shadow found its way to your chin, yanking it up and forcing you to look at him. The sight of Azriel made you gulp. His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen, the anger coming off of him in waves. If you were anyone else, you’d have cowered in fear. But you only raised an eyebrow. “Don’t lie to me.” He said icily. “You were with that male last night, were you with him today, too?”

“Why the fuck does it matter to you?” You spat. “You were too busy burying your dick inside that female to notice me. Not my fault someone else finished what you couldn’t.” The words were completely untrue, but you didn’t care. You just needed them to land their mark.

Azriel laughed heartlessly, but the anger in his eyes grew stronger. “Are you really that fucking pathetic that I’m not allowed to take my attention off of you for five minutes? Is that all it takes for you to go crawling to the nearest male ready to get fucked?”

“She was flirting with you, you absolute prick!” You screamed at him, ripping away from the shadow’s grip and storming towards the bedroom. “And you flirted back! Don’t act like you’re the victim here. You wanted to make me jealous, but what? You didn’t think I was capable of doing the same?”

Azriel followed you. “Don’t walk away from me.”

You tried to slam the door in his face, but his muscular arm caught it, easily prying it open. Azriel roughly grabbed you and slammed you into the wall. You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he didn’t budge. “You’re the one who fucked someone else, not me.” He growled.

You chuckled manically. “Is that what you think happened, Az?”

His grip tightened, bruising your arms. “Don’t play dumb, you stupid whore. I saw you leave with him.”

You kept chuckling, body singing with adrenaline. You saw Azriel’s gaze go down to your body, where an unmistakably male shirt clung to you. The look in his eyes was positively murderous. Wordlessly, he let go of you and you fell to the ground, continuing to laugh at him as he went towards the door.

“Where are you going?” You asked through giggles.

Azriel grabbed truth-teller from his waist, turning to face you. “You have one chance to tell me where that male is, or I will find him myself.”

You pushed yourself up, sighing and letting out another sick laugh. Excitement bubbled in you as you spoke. “I’m not sure there will be much left of him to find.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Azriel’s eyes widened in surprise. He went utterly still, hand frozen on the door handle. Nothing moved, except for you. You were practically buzzing, a new kind of high taking over you.

“What are you talking about?” Azriel’s voice was low.

**********************

The male’s hands were all over you as you walked towards the motel. You resisted the urge to squirm away at his teenager-like giddiness. You didn’t feel the cold night air, your body was hot with adrenaline.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, baby.” The male said breathlessly, squeezing your ass with one hand.

You let out a fake laugh, but lead him off the cobblestone road. The motel was a few feet away, but that wasn’t where you wanted to take him. Your heels sunk into the mud, dirtying your feet as you headed towards the dark trees in the distance. You felt the male slow behind you.

“Aren’t we going to the motel?” He asked with uncertainty.

“What fun would that be?” You grabbed his hand and pulled him harder. “Come on, trust me.”

The moron just shrugged and continued to follow you. It was another ten minutes before you found a clearing, having nearly tripped over giant roots to get there. This place would do nicely, you decided.

You turned around to face the male, but his shirt was already off and he was in the process of unbuttoning his pants. “Adventurous!” He said excitedly. “I am so fucking hard baby, if you don’t get on your knees and do something about it now I think I might die.”

“Yes,” You said, sliding the knife out of the holster on your thigh. “You will.”

The male barely had a chance to speak before you brought the dagger up and slashed it across his face. Blood spurted from the nasty gash as he fell down, sobbing and clutching his face. His pants were down at his knees, a truly pathetic sight.

“There’s only one male allowed to touch me,” You said calmly. “And if he found out you laid your hands on me, he would do much worse to you than what I’m going to do. So be grateful.”

The male sobbed, pleading and begging pathetically for you to spare his life. But you weren’t phased. After all, your words were true. Nothing you did to him could compare to what Azriel would have done. You were proud of yourself for granting him this mercy. You didn’t know this male at all, know if he’d done anything to deserve a more painful death. But truthfully, you didn’t care.

You leaned down over him, pressing your body into his. It made you want to vomit, but you needed as much of his scent on you as possible. “I want you to thank me.” You said sternly. “Thank me for being merciful. Without me, your death would be stretched over the span of months, if not years. So thank me.”

“Thank you!” The male shouted. “Please, let me go!” It seemed he would do anything you asked if he thought there was a chance at sparing his life. But there wasn’t.

You slashed the dagger across his throat, and hot blood spurted all over you, coating your dress. The male choked on his own blood, sick gurgling sounds echoing throughout the eerie quietness of the clearing. It didn’t take long for the light to fade from his eyes, and death finally claimed him.

Satisfied, you stood up and headed over to the creek to wash the blood off your skin and wipe down the dagger. The water was refreshing, soothing your warm cheeks. You grabbed the male’s discarded shirt and pulled your ruined dress off, rolling the fabric into a ball and stuffing it into your purse. Pulling the shirt over your head, you strode back in the direction of the motel, knowing the wolves will have gotten rid of the body for you by sunhigh.

**********************

You smirked as Azriel stared you down after you told him the story, dumbfounded. His lack of ability to comprehend that you killed the male was almost insulting, but you mostly found it funny. He looked adorable with his eyes wide and his jaw slack, shock written all over his pretty face. It made your blood sing.

“You killed him.” It was more of a statement than a question. No judgement laced Azriel’s deep voice, just awe. Almost as if he was impressed.

“I did.” You said proudly, crossing your arms over your chest. “You would have been proud of me, Az, if you were there. If you had actually paid attention to me instead of trying to fuck Beatrice.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, and you instantly realised your mistake. He took a step towards you, cocking his head. “I never told you her name.”

You cursed inwardly at your slip up. You had gotten so caught up in sticking it to Azriel that you mentioned Beatrice by name, something you weren’t supposed to do. Oh well, you’d just have to improvise. “No, you didn’t.” You purred, pointedly bringing your hand up to toy with the emerald necklace.

Azriel’s hazel eyes zoned in on the necklace, and his face went slack once again. “Did you kill her too?”

You giggled, the ice cold necklace a contrast against your warm fingers. “That doesn’t matter to you. Because you won’t get to fuck her, so it shouldn’t matter if she’s dead or alive.”

“She was innocent in this.” Azriel growled. “She didn’t know you were with me.”

“Innocent is hardly the word I’d use.” You snorted. “Besides, you don’t get to be a fucking hypocrite. So you can kill males who put their hands on me but I can’t do the same?”

“You shouldn’t have to!” Azriel hissed, towering over you with his wings flaring. “You are mine. It is my job to protect you, to keep your hands clean. You should not be involved in this shit”

You glared up at him. “I guess I’m just as twisted as you now.”

Something inside the spymaster shifted at your words, and his shoulders slumped. He reached his arms out and wrapped them around you, pulling you into his strong chest. You felt his chin rest against the top of your head, and he inhaled your scent. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” He murmured. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have ignored you, this is all my fault. Please forgive me, I cannot lose you. You are all I think about every breathing moment of my existence. There’s not a line in the world I wouldn’t cross for you. Please tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Part of you wanted to melt into Azriel’s arms, to let him shield you from the rest of the world. To lay you down and worship your body like a priest at the altar, making you feel good and see stars. He was so good at taking care of you, even when he was an ass about it he always knew exactly what you needed at that moment.

But for the first time, you didn’t give in, wanting to show that side of you that you had kept hidden from him. Until now. “You want to make it up to me, Az?” You cooed.

He nodded against your hair, squeezing tighter.

“Kneel.” You said firmly.

Azriel paused, pulling away but keeping his hands on your waist as he stared down at you in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, kneel.” Your voice was edged like steel, a husky but harsh tone to it, one you hadn’t used in a while. At first, you weren’t sure if it would work. Azriel was a dominant male and loved control, seeing if he would be willing to give it up for you was a huge gamble.

But while Azriel had never uttered the words ‘I love you’, he had always promised you that you were his world, that he would do anything for you. And this was his chance to prove it.

“You think you’re in charge?” Azriel’s tone was light, testing the waters to see if you were serious or not. “Come on, sweetheart. You know how good I can make you feel. Let me take over, so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing.”

You stood with your chin high, unflinching as you repeated yourself. “Kneel.”

Azriel swallowed, and for a moment you thought he was going to laugh and walk out. But the male simply bowed his head, dropping to his knees and placing his scarred hands in his lap. You stepped back, satisfied as you admired the view. The silver moonlight through the windows cast beautiful highlights across the Illyrian. His glorious wings were flared out slightly, the bottom part lightly trailing on the ground. Azriel’s dark hair cast shadows across his face, the only light coming from it being his curious hazel eyes looking up at you. He looked like a fallen angel, a once mighty god begging at your feet.

Satisfaction flooded through your body. The roles would be reversed tonight, you decided. Azriel would be the one begging you this time. You began unbuttoning your shirt, and the male’s hands instinctively reached up to help, so you slapped them away. “Did I say you could move?” You demanded.

“No.” Azriel said sullenly, moving his hands back into his lap obediently. His eyes were dark, a turmoil of emotions behind them. You could tell he was fighting his instincts to assume his usual role, grabbing you and pinning you to the bed to do with as he pleased. But he was fighting to obey you, to give you satisfaction in a different form.

“Then stay there,” You commanded sternly. “And watch.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed, seemingly swallowing his protests as he nodded. You shed your shirt and pants, striding confidently over to your bedside drawer, letting your hips sway as you went. You could feel Azriel’s intense gaze burning into you with curiosity, making you chuckle inwardly. He was about to get a taste of his own medicine.

For months, Azriel had controlled your pleasure. He decided when you could touch yourself, when you were allowed to cum, how many times you could be pushed over the edge. And you gladly gave yourself to him, willingly subjecting yourself to his torturous teasing whenever he was mad at you. Once, the spymaster had edged you for an entire night until you passed out. Tears had streamed down your face for hours, body aching the next day from being so tense. Azriel was a generous lover, but a cruel one as well. And now it was your time to turn the tables on him.

You opened the drawer, grabbing the blue vibrator he had gifted you all those months ago. It hadn’t been used much since – there were only a few times when Azriel’s shadows would hold the vibrator to your clit as he pounded into you, as he preferred to use his own hands. As good as the vibrator was, it couldn’t compare to the spymaster’s touch. Which is why you knew he was about to be driven to madness.

Sexual weapon in hand, you walked back over to the kneeling Illyrian. You stopped centimetres from his face, which was level with your thigh. He was breathing heavy, eyes dark as he inhaled your scent. But he had learned from his previous mistake it seemed, as he kept his hands to his sides.

“Take off my panties.” You said coldly. “And do not use your hands.”

Azriel stared up at you, the hazel in his eyes barely visible. He leaned forward, his teeth finding the edge of your blue lace panties. They grasped it, his lips brushing your skin as sharp canines tugged at the fabric. He visibly shuddered, his lips so close to where he wanted them to be, yet not allowed to touch. The scent of your arousal was thick in the air, forcing Azriel to ignore it. You sucked in a breath as his eyes met yours as he managed to slowly pull them down your thighs, not breaking eye contact as they fell to your feet.

You stepped out of the fabric, kicking them to the side and turning around to settle yourself on the bed. You sat on the end, facing Azriel and slowly spreading open your legs. The male’s eyes zeroed in on your glistening cunt, and you noticed his hands trembling with effort to keep them at his sides. You turned on the vibrator, placing the suctioning tip against your clit. The sensation made your legs twitch at the sudden contact, and you let out a loud moan, letting your free hand cup your breast.

Admittedly, the moan was a bit of an exaggeration to piss off Azriel. Evidently, it worked. The shadowsinger was glaring at you. “Oh please,” He scoffed. “We both know that won’t be enough to satisfy you.”

You let out another sigh, kicking the vibrator’s intensity up a notch. “It’s more than you gave me last night. I wore one of your favourite dresses, and you didn’t even try to touch me. I’ve had to go and find satisfaction elsewhere, since you wouldn’t give me any.”

The room was stifling, the scent of Azriel’s arousal mixed with your own, and the faintest traces of Beatrice’s honey and lavender perfume clinging to your skin. You rocked your hips against the toy, your cunt weeping mere feet from Azriel’s desperate face.

“Stop.” He growled sternly. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. Come on, you know I can do better than that toy.”

You ignored him, your other hand trailing from your breast across your collarbones, caressing all over your skin as you felt that familiar pressure build up in your stomach. It was a slightly foreign sensation, a different feeling than how the buildup to your orgasm when Azriel ate you out felt, or the way your body neared climax with his cock buried inside you. You imagined it was Azriel’s fingers on your clit, expertly working you as you came closer to your orgasm.

“Ok, this little act is over.” Azriel tried to sound firm, but there was a weakness in his voice that dimmed his threat. “Let me touch you. You know the rule – you’re not allowed to cum without my permission. And I don’t give you permission.”

You chuckled at the falter in his tone. “No. You are going to sit there and watch me do what you failed to do the other night. Your rules don’t apply tonight, Az, so suck it up. If you want to touch me, you’ll have to beg.”

Your voice went high pitched as your legs began to shake. Azriel’s protests faded into background noise as you came, your lower body heated and electrified as your orgasm went through you. It wasn’t as intense as some you’d had before, but the unceasing buzzing against your clit as you writhed through your high made you oversensitive.

Once you had come down from your climax, you set the vibrator aside, staring at Azriel. The veins in his arms were prominent with his effort to keep himself from pouncing on you. Disbelief was written all over his face, as if he couldn’t believe you had actually obeyed him. And that he had let you.

“I told you, your rules don’t apply tonight.” You panted heavily. “Now remove your clothes and lay down on the bed.”

Azriel scrambled to his feet, glaring at you but obliging anyways. He smirked confidently as he peeled his shirt off, revealing those rock hard abs that you loved riding so much. You could never get enough of his body, no matter how many times he stripped in front of you. He was truly a work of art from head to toe.

The spymaster unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down to reveal his rock hard erection. Your mouth watered at the sight of his naked form, but you did not budge. You only stared at him coldly, rather than dropping to your knees and giving in like he had clearly expected. Letting out a huff of frustration, Azriel crawled onto his bed, flipping onto his back and settling in.

Shadows curled around his wrists, bringing his arms above his head and holding them prisoner there. Azriel’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and you giggled. It seems his shadows were on your side tonight.

You crawled over top of him, straddling his waist. His hard cock poked into your backside, making your core pulse against his muscled lower abs. You leaned over top of him, placing one hand beside his head and placing your face inches from his own. The spymaster was breathing heavily, staring up at you with awe.

“You weren’t good to me last night, Azriel.” Your voice dropped, a dangerous tone gleaming on the edge of it. “You flirted with another female when I had gotten all dressed up for you. Instead of even just looking at me, you tried to take her home and fuck her instead of me.”

“I didn’t f–” Azriel’s protest was cut off by a gasp, as you lifted your hips off of him and your free hand reached down and firmly gripped the base of his cock, just how he liked it. He choked on his words, eyes widening as you slowly moved your hand up and down.

“You think she’d be enough to satisfy you?” You teased, mocking his words to you earlier. “She satisfied me well enough. But she wouldn’t be able to give you what I can. She wouldn’t know how you like your cock stroked, but I do.”

To emphasise your point, you squeezed him tighter and twisted your wrist, letting your thumb graze the slit. Azriel let out a breathy moan, shutting his eyes.

“Look at me.” You snapped, forcing the male to open his eyes. He obliged, letting out little gasps as you continued to stroke him.

You leaned forward and let your lips graze his neck, your teeth skimming the skin ever so slightly as you picked up the pace of your strokes. Azriel whimpered underneath you – whimpered. The sound was pathetic and needy, and filled you with so much joy. His pretty face was scrunched up with effort, his hands writhing in his unrelenting shadows. You lightly sucked and bit all across his neck and collarbones, knowing that the feather light touches would drive him wild and send him towards his orgasm faster. You knew Azriel always lasted a long time, his god-like stamina making your body tremble as he relentlessly pounded you through orgasm after orgasm.

But you knew by the way his cock twitched in your hand that he wouldn’t last long like this. You let the tip of his cock graze your slit as you pumped, and the shadowsinger moaned loudly, his muscles flexing.

“You like that, pretty boy?” You cooed against his neck.

Azriel whimpered, bucking his hips into your hand.

“None of that now,” You chastised. “I asked you a question.”

He exhaled. “Yes.” Was all he could manage through his moans.

“I can feel how close you are, it’s pathetic. Normally you last longer. Is this something you’ve dreamed of, baby? Hm? Tell me, do you want to cum?”

Azriel’s eyelids fluttered as he fought to keep still underneath you, a thin sheen of sweat coating his tanned body. “Yes! Gods, yes. Please.”

You sank your teeth into his neck, biting down harshly and making him cry out. Your hand next to his arm shifted, letting your fingertips graze the edge of his wing. “Beg for it then.”

“Please,” The spymaster whimpered. “I’ll do anything you want. Please, just let me cum. Please.”

You hummed, pretending to consider it. Just as his abs tensed signifying his nearing release, you sat up and released his cock. Azriel let out a frustrated yet pathetic groan. “What the fuck?” He protested.

“Not so fun being on the receiving end of that one, is it?” You asked, sitting down on his abs and lazily grinding yourself into them. “I know you’d rather die than admit that you secretly fucking loved it. How pathetic is that? The mighty spymaster of the Night Court, crying underneath me because I wouldn’t let him finish.”

Azriel’s face was deep red, his jaw clenched. A few strands of black hair clung to his forehead. “Please,” He begged with droopy eyes. “I fucked up. Let me make it up to you. Please, let me touch you. Let me make you feel good. Please, I need to touch you. I need you. All I want is to make you feel good.”

You scraped your nail down his chest, eliciting a shiver from the body beneath you. “Is that so?”

“Yes ma’am.”

A wave of arousal had rushed through your veins at not just the title, but the ease at which he said it. It rolled off his tongue so naturally. Sure, you had been called many names in the bedroom before in both submissive and dominant roles, but this was new. And you fucking loved it.

You gripped his chin firmly, letting your nails dig into the skin as you brought your face closer to his. “Say that again.”

He gulped. “Yes ma’am. Please, let me make you feel good.”

You chuckled darkly, sitting up. The shadows repositioned his arms slightly, giving more room on either side of Azriel’s head for what you were about to do, as if they knew already. “I’m going to sit on your face and use you like my own personal toy. You are going to choke on my cunt just as I have choked on your cock, and you are going to be grateful for it and thank me after. You do not get to touch me with your hands, and you will take what I give you. Am I clear?”

Azriel nodded vigorously, eyes gleaming. Truthfully, you knew this was a reward for him. There was nothing in this world he loved more than eating you out. He had often even encouraged you to ride his face. But never before had he not been able to grab your hips and touch you.

You climbed up his body, seating one knee on either side of his head where the shadows had now cleared space for you. As you slowly lowered your cunt towards his face, the Illyrian strained his neck to lift his head as high as he could in a pathetic attempt to get closer to your core.

Briefly, you recalled all the times Azriel had lectured you about how you refused to fully sit on his face, afraid you’d suffocate him. He’d always end up growling in frustration and grabbing your hips, firmly pulling you down so you were seated on his face.

It was time you showed him you learned your lesson.

With no warning, you lowered your cunt onto his face, fully seating yourself on it and grabbing onto his hair with both hands. Azriel groaned in delight underneath you, the sound sending vibrations right into your core. You moaned in relief, rocking your hips against his face. Lewd noises filled the room as Azriel ate you out like a man who hadn’t had a meal in days, eagerly slurping up all your juices. You shamelessly ground into his face, wanting more.

You cried out as his tongue shoved its way inside you, your clit scraping his nose in a way that made your legs twitch. For a second you wondered how Azriel was managing to breathe, but his relentlessness reassured you that he was perfectly fine somehow.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” You moaned. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Eating my pussy? Pretty boy is just a desperate little whore, isn’t that right?”

The noise Azriel made was muffled, but akin to a pathetic whimper. Something you knew would ring in your ears like a new favourite song.

It only took a few more minutes before your orgasm built up, barrelling towards you at rapid speed. Your thighs tensed up, clenching around his face as you came, yanking harshly on his silky hair. Azriel groaned as you did so, your juices coating his face. Part of you had been tempted to not let him make you finish, but you couldn’t help it. His mouth felt too good on you, something you had missed over the last few days.

Finally, you lifted yourself off Azriel’s face, hearing him take in a gasping breath as you did so. His hazel eyes were closed in bliss, face shiny from your juices as he panted for air. “Thank you, ma’am.” He murmured. You crawled down his body, seating yourself back on his abs while you collected your composure.

“You did so good, Az.” You purred, reaching behind you and gently brushing your fingers against his hard cock. “You’re so good to me. Now, have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Azriel said breathlessly.

“What lesson would that be?”

“Don’t flirt with other females.”

“Exactly.” You pulled out Truth-Teller from its sheath and pressed the sharp blade against his throat, the shadows having discreetly brought it to you from the spymaster’s discarded belt. “You are mine, and mine only. Nobody else gets to have you but me. Nobody gets to touch you but me. If they do, I will remove their hands and feed their body to the beasts in the woods. And if you try to touch another female in a manner I would not deem fit, it will be your body that gets fed to the creatures. Understood?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of awe, horror, and lust. It made you chuckle inwardly, how he seemed surprised that this is who you had become. You weren’t sure why he would be – he had become your new life, every fibre of your being tied to his and his alone. Azriel was unhinged and possessive to begin with, even more so now that he had you.

He was bad, but you were worse.

“Yes ma’am.” Azriel croaked out, swallowing against the cold metal of the blade.

“Good. Now you’ve made me cum, I think it’s only fair if I let you do the same, right?”

“You may do as you see fit, ma’am.”

A smile bloomed across your face. You could tell it was hard for him to say – his cock was hard as a diamond, his body begging for a release. But he chose the right answer. “Correct. You may fuck me now, any position you see fit. But you are not to cum without my permission.”

The second the shadows binding Azriel’s wrists together slipped away, his scarred hands grabbed your waist and flipped you over, pinning you underneath him. His eyes were frantic as if he worried you’d change your mind. He roughly spread your legs and you let him, relishing in the feeling of him over top of you. He lined up his cock with your entrance and slammed in.

You gasped, the air leaving your body. Azriel’s size was something you would never quite get used to. It had taken you a long time to be able to take him with no preparation, and even then it still hurt like hell for the first bit. But you learned to relish in the pain, especially when he praised you for taking him so well.

But there was no praise coming from his lips this time. Azriel fucked you relentlessly, chasing the pleasure that you had denied him earlier. His movements were frantic, a change from his usual deliberate pace. The room was filled with slapping sounds and moans. Azriel was hitting so deep inside of you that you began to feel dizzy, your eyes rolling back in your head.

Azriel had fucked you harder than anyone ever had before, but this was completely different. It took less than five minutes for Azriel to tense up, signifying he was approaching his orgasm quickly.

“You’re going to cum, aren’t you?” You teased, voice shaky with the force of his thrusts.

Azriel leaned over you, his head next to yours with one arm cradled around your head. “Yes! Please, I need it! Please let me cum.” His voice was utterly broken and fragmented.

You were silent for ten seconds, just long enough to feel the panic coming from him, making him think you were going to say no. But you brought a hand up and stroked his wing in that one spot you knew drove him crazy. “Yes. Good boy. Cum for me, Azriel.”

The spymaster erupted into a powerful orgasm the second his name finished leaving your lips. Hot seed filled your insides, making you cry out. His hips jutted against you as he came, his head tilted back exposing his throat as he moaned loudly, a single tear running down his cheek.

Azriel’s thrusts slowed as he rode out his orgasm, pumping his cum back into you as it spilled out of your hole. He panted, wings twitching as he pulled out and slumped down into the spot beside you on the bed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

You hummed, satisfied with your work. If you had told yourself months ago that you would be the one to break Azriel one night, you’d have laughed at yourself. It filled you with pride, seeing the stone cold, dominating shadowsinger become a whimpering mess all because of you.

It made everything you had done worth it.

You reached for Truth-Teller, propping yourself up beside him and putting the cold blade onto his skin, causing him to flinch and look at you in surprise. You trailed the knife down his body, circling it around where his heart was. You angled the blade, pressing the tip of it into his skin, right above the beating muscle. A thin trail of blood ran down from the cut. “This heart is mine. And if you try to give it to anyone else, I will carve it out of you myself.”

The shadowsinger was holding his breath, unmoving against your touch. You knew that he would easily be able to disarm you if he needed to, but there was still a hint of fear in his eyes.

No, he was not scared of you cutting his heart from his chest. He was scared of you running away from him.

You smirked, satisfied at his reaction. You weren’t going anywhere. You were right here with Azriel, where you belonged.

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