Attention Seeker - M. Rempe

"Flashing warnings"

Pyramid Head x GN Reader

Summary: you've been with the executioner for quite some time, enough for you to have your own special bond. You were his, and that fact alone was enough for the whole Silent Hill to avoid you, well aware of what they'll find out if they mess around. However, this little rule is unknown for any unfortunate newcomers that get trapped in this cursed town, and today you've met one of these newcomers... One would think, seeing monsters avoiding you like fire should be enough proof to do the same, but... Eh, some people are way too stubborn and blind.

Warnings: typical violence and gore, (Y/N) getting mistreated by meanies >:(

Word count: 2.9k

(Y/N) been sitting on this old matress for quite some time, they've already tried any possible sitting position yet non made the book they're reading more interesting.

Pyramid Head, or how they began to call him, 'Pyra', left to hunt and punish whatever soul putrid enough to get his attention. He's been gone a good amount of hours and they haven't heard a single sound of his in the distance, no metal scraping against the concrete at the distance or any screams of agony from his victim, nothing. How many hours it been? Three? Five? It's tough to tell, specially when this town knows no day/night cycles and it's always foggy. Even though they're not sure how long it been, they can tell it's the longest Pyra's been gone.

They switch into a laying position as they begin to think about what to do now. They could totaly go out and take a walk if they wanted, but they're concerned they'll end up bumping into the people Pyra is hunting. No, they won't get punished but they don't want to witness a literal slaughter neither, and whenever something (literaly anything) dares to interact with (Y/N), the pyramid headed beast seems to go wild of fury.

This is some very serious issolation, but (Y/N) became fine with it and Pyra is not as bad of a company as he initialy was. Feel him close to them, his big palm resting against their body as a reminder that he's there, the random noises that come out his helmet whenever he seems content or wants to get their attention... To be honest, these little things became more than enough at this point, and it's not like they've used to be the most social butterfly anyways. And even if they were... Well, arguing with Pyra is useless, he never budges, and if (Y/N) starts to get unreasonable or the argument goes nowhere, he simply brushes his togue across their face, purpously waiting for the moment their open their mouth. And ta-da! Argument solved since (Y/N) is too shocked and flustered to continue and Pyra simply let's out a deep and amused rumble.

(Y/N) chuckles to themselves at this memory, when it happened the first time the face they made was probably priceless, and the way Pyra allowed them to hide their face in his chest so the shame goes away... Sigh, they hope he returns soon.

The hairs on the back of their neck stood up when they began to hear the sound of numerous people run and hurriedly yellsomething to each other. (Y/N) of course panics a bit, and to avoid any possible interaction with the group of people they sneak into the corner of the room near the door, so if anyone of the group peeks inside they won't notice (Y/N) right away. It also seems like the people are running away from something, something that is not Pyra because of the lack of known bulky footsteps and scraping sounds.

Unfortunately, their little plan went town the drain when the group of around five man bursted through the old door and attempted to close it, while the creature outside of it was desperately slaming itself against the wooden surface. (Y/N) turned completely still as they shrunk in their place, internally hoping that due to the intense moment these people wouln't notice then and would simply brush off their form as some inanimate object.

Unfortunately, one of the men did noticed them.

—"Hey Dave, there's another one hidin' over he-"—

The man couldn't finish the sentence as the creature from the other side managed to burst through the door, throwing the men on the ground in the process. Some of them stumble back, others pull out their weapons and point at the creature, who resulted to be a monster known as ‘Slurper’, take a guess why it's called that. Not the most difficult creature to deal with but definitely the trickiest, it’s very fast and definitely can handle or dodge some shots and hits from the group.

The monster crawls inside of the room, it’s elongated face making some slurping noises as drool and blood drips from its mouth. But the beast suddenly freezes mid-step, and very slowly and subtly turns it’s head towards (Y/N), making the men look at them as well. The monster suddenly lets out a whine, similar to that of a dog, and practically runs away at high speed, completely terrified.

The group stare at the door in shock, their mouth gaping a bit. (Y/N) remains stiff, their knees pressed to their chest as they think what to do now. The answer comes when one of the man, who seems to be the leader, stands up and starts walking towards them, his expression indescifrable, but his gaze definitely holding malice.

So (Y/N) jumps to their feet as fast as they could and make a run through the doorway and down the hallway. They can hear the group yell something as they chase them, their voices angry and irritated, which only motivated them to keep running since it’s now clear that these people weren’t kind at all.

Things turn significantly worse when they get grabbed by the back of their clothes and then tackled down on the floor, the impact was rough and quite painful which made (Y/N) release a pained whine. The man above them grabs a good chunk of their hair and presses their head agains the dirty and cold floor as he looks at them.

—“The fuck was that? How did you do it?!”— he exclaims strictly, his tone demanding.

—“D-Did what?… S-Scaring the- the monster th-thing?”— you nervously reply, your voice a bit shaky. —“I-It’s not really me, it’s the being tha-that ‘owns’ me.”—

(Y/N) knew they sound like they’re crazy, like they’re out of their mind, but it’s the best way they can explain their unusual situation. It is true, the executioner practically owns them, he has the power to claim and to keep them with him, to keep anyone and anything away from something his, to keep them eternally by his side, his and no one else's.

As expected, the man on top of them only scrunched his face with confusion and disgust, definitely thinking that (Y/N) is just another crazy ex-resident of this hellish town.

—“Yeah… Right.”— he slowly says.

—“Mathew, do you still have the tape? Bring it.”—

A clear sound of a duct tape being unwrapped made them shiver, uh-oh, they’re in a big-time problem. They attempt to wiggle out and keep running, but the man above them slams their head agains the floor.

—“Keep it still bitch, we just want to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you.”— he grumbles angrily and slams your head again.

(Y/N) could feel blood start dripping from their nose. Being forced to calm down since these men clearly aren't fooling around and are not afraid to hurt them if they need, they relax and allow another one to tape their wrists together behind their back, as well as their ankles.

—“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, the executioner will not have mercy…”— you comment, not even bothering to elaborate, knowing that these people are dead meat already.

—“Pff, executioner. If you’re of his property, then why were you in that room just chillin’ all by yourself?”— another man asks.

—“Because he can allow himself to do it, and because any smart creature knows to not fuck around me because of what they’ll found out.”— you say, your tone a bit sassier by the end.

—“Any smart creature, huh?”— the man that was on top of you suddenly grabs you by the throat. —“In my understanding, a smart creature will learn to shut the fuck up, I could easily cut your tongue off right now if I wanted but not sure if that will affect whatever effect you have on the monsters, so I'll give you one last chance to remain quiet, understood? You farm animal.”—

The grip on (Y/N)‘s throat was tight and it was hard to breathe, the male’s eyes were dark and cold, no hesitation in them as he said these threats, definetely not the first time he makes them. Believing his words, (Y/N) nods hurriedly as the lack of oxygen began to affect them. The man grins and let go of them roughly, basically throwing their body on the floor.

—“Aight, who’s going to carry their ass?”—

The men discuss for a short moment, until agreeing that the biggest one of them should do it. Ones everything was sorted out and (Y/N) was being manhandled in his grasp, the group resumed their walking.

The men were shocked, some of them even got smug, at the way the creatures avoided them now. What’s that? A monster does have guts to attack? A single sound or movement from (Y/N) was enough to set the creature from fight into flight. Each time something run away, the men would laugh and cackle loudly, clearly feeling like they've beat the system and are some sort of untouchable beings.

Silly bastards, they don’t know what awaits them.

It’s unclear how long they’ve been roaming around, but it was long enough for the group to get lost, again, and decide to take a rest. The man carrying (Y/N) carelessly (throws) puts them on the ground, face first, as the rest settle down as well. Non of the five bothered to talk or acknowledge (Y/N), though sometimes they would throw some random questions at them, but of course they'd never been able to finish the answer since one of the five would end up rudly interrupting them.

At some point (Y/N) began to ignore them, aware that they're nothing but a gag to these people. The youngest of the group seemed a bit pissed at being ignored, so he stands up and walks towards (Y/N)'s lying form, who was still paying no mind, and out of nowhere kicks them hard on their stomach, making the air inside of them leave in a violent exhale.

—"You talk and look at us when we speak to you."—

They say nothing, still trying to regain their breath. The man above them sighs and rolls his eyes before crouching down and grabbing them by their hair, to posteriorly pull them to their knees.

—"Listen sugar, just because you scare away the crap that lives here, it means shit to us. You're fuckin' helpless and at our mercy, so you do and act as told and when is told, understood?"—

Before (Y/N) could do anything, a sudden deafening roar resonated through the whole building and from an unknown direction. The noise similar to some huge unknown beast fiercely howling through something metallic. A shiver of anticipation ran through (Y/N)’s spine, Pyra must’ve found their drops of blood and figured out what happened, and now he’s on his way to take them back.

The other five noticeably tensed up and frantically looked around, as if trying to locate the creature through the walls...

Walls.

(Y/N)'s gaze was already focused on one of he walls, knowing that their lover would't waste his time in searching for an entrance. The man, who's still holding them by their hair, slowly drags his gaze to the same wall.

—"Guys..."— he says uneasily.

—"Yes, we heard that too, dumbass."— one of the other four hisses back.

—"No, guys, get away from the fuckin- "—

A loud crashing sound resonated behind the mentioned surface, followed by the well known heavy footsteps and scraping of metal. The other four quickly get behind the fifth and (Y/N), who was currently having the brightest grin on their face, relieved that he came for them.

—"{The fuck was that?!}"— one of the males yells half whispers to you.

—"That?"— you let a little hum as you close your eyes and look away so the dust doesn't get directly into your face. —"That is the reason why everything in here avoids me."— you say with the calmest tone possible.

—"Wha- "—

Another loud crash and a huge wave of dust cut off his question completely. While the dust was still on the air, the previous heavy footsteps were quickly approaching, making the floor shake with each step. When the men saw the silhouette of this massive unknown creature they paniced, since it showed no hits of stopping, quite the opposite actually. The one, that been holding (Y/N), pushes them roughly forward without thinking, actin on some desperate instinct.

—"Here! Take them instead!"—

The five were ready to run, but got stopped by their own shock when the monster reached out and caught (Y/N) before they fall on the ground. It was still hard to see what exactly the beast did, due to the still thick layer of dust, but the sudden loud and deep metallic growl that the beast let out was enough for them to defrost and set into running. They don't get too far though, since their legs get suddenly caught and tangled into a bunch of rusty wires and thorns coming out of the floor, whick held them still and cut their soft flesh with the mildest movement.

A small chill jolted through (Y/N) at the sight of the mysterious thorns. They knew it was Pyra's doing, he rarely used that hability of his and they learned that he only uses it when he's trully pissed. And he wasn't just that, he was livid. The sight of bruises on (Y/N)'s neck from the previous grab really railed the monster up, just how dares that filty mortal touch and mark something his? Only he has the privilege to touch (Y/N), to hold them, to look at them, to hear their voice and all the things they say in that calm and sweet tone they always use when they're happy... Just how dare they attempt to take all of this away from him? The executioner.

The monster tears the tape off (Y/N)'s wrists and ankles before putting them down, his movements a bit rough due his agitation yet he did his best to keep it under control.

He then rises to his full height, sword in hand, and slowly walks towards the group. The closer he got, the more desperate the man acted, pulling their legs out of the sharp wire-mess just for it to tangle around their limb even tighter.

The beast's first target was the youngest one, the one who had the guts to hold (Y/N) by their hair and threaten them, Pyra really didn't like that one.

The male has no time to even inhale to start begging, as the monster simply cuts him in half with his sword. (Y/N) of course didn't want to see the gore that is about to happen, so they carefuly and quietly leave the room through the hole their beast of a man made durning his enrance. The last thing they've seen before leaving was Pyra practically tearing one of the man up apart like paper, going specially slow to inflict even more pain.

(Y/N) is unsure how long it took Pyra to finish them, they simply remained sitted on the floor with their legs pressed against their chest and covering their ears to silence the screams and the wet gory sounds of muscles and bones breaking. They let out a yelp when their body is suddenly pulled up by a pair of large arms and is pressed agains a broad torso. Pyra held (Y/N) in this posessive embrace for quite a while, the mildes movement from them would make the beast growl and press them even closer.

(Y/N) however, still attempted to soothe their lover by gently nuzzling agains his chest and rub it with their hand.

—"I am so sorry..."— you apologize, though you both knew it wasn't really your fault. —"I was just hanging out in that room we've been before, and... And these people entered there while running away from another beast, and- "—

They couldn't finish the explanation since Pyra suddenly shoved their face further into his chest, muffing the rest of their little rant. The action, which embarassed (Y/N) a bit, also made them understand that their lover doesn't need any excuses or explanations, he's content to have them back and unharmed. They sigh softly and eventually relax in his grasp and going practically rag doll, in response and after some time, Pyra's body also relaxed a bit, yet his grip on (Y/N) remained strong and firm like iron, refusing to let go.

—"Pyra."— you manage to move yout head just enough to say it.

A low grumble resonated from his helmet and chest, though it didn't sound hostile, more like his version of 'hhmm?'.

—"I love you, thank you for being around."— you say honestly, as you move just enough to reach his neck area and kiss the little skin exposed between his clothes and helmet.

The little sweet gesture was answered with a low purr as Pyra's large hands roam around their body for a bit, caressing and feeling each curve through their clothes. The touches weren't suggestive surprisingly, which meant that this affection was genuine and not the product of his monstrous lust towards them.

They both stay like this for a while longer, (Y/N) saying and whispering things in a soft tone that Pyra absolutely adored to hear, and he kept holding them against himself, pawing their body time to time just to feel them more. Their warmth, their pulse, their breathing...

To feel them.

To feel them being all H̸̫̥͙̮͍̮͋͑Ḯ̴͓̦̻͈̜͍̇̃͋͠S̴͖̘̍̓̉̑.

of waning moons and eagle eyes — daniel ricciardo

pairing. platonic/romantic/up for interpretation!daniel ricciardo x reader

summary. goodbyes are hard; for now, i’ll say i am going to miss you and stay here a while. .5k

.

You stall behind Daniel, hesitating, shifting your weight, trying to think of what you could possibly say. You come up empty.

Daniel doesn’t look at you when you step beside him.

He just says, “If you’re going to tell me you’re sorry, don’t.”

“I was actually going to say you’re a talentless hack who deserves it.”

Daniel’s laugh is sharp and surprised. It feels good to be able to make him laugh, even in a situation like this, even if his face quickly goes blank again.

You follow his gaze upwards. The Singaporean night sky is an inky navy, too much light pollution for stars. But the moon, you can see. A little over half, closer to full than new but still waning. It won’t be a new moon until the month is over. After that, it will wax and repeat the process unto forever. Ever present, ever changing.

“I am sorry,” you say, despite the warning. “It’s not pity. It’s just what people say when a situation is fucked and someone they care about draws the short straw.”

Daniel exhales heavily, slowly. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. I guess.”

He huffs out a half-chuckle.

You stare up into the empty sky for a while longer. It’s well past midnight, now. All the other drivers are gone. Most crew and other staff, too. But not you. Not Daniel.

“How do you even know?” Daniel asks, eventually.

“I have my methods.”

You shouldn’t know. You really aren’t supposed to; it’s a massive breach of security. Luckily, you are just you, and all you want to do with the information of Daniel’s being dropped is be with him.

“I wish they’d at least give you a proper send off,” you voice quietly. “This whole guessing game, making you keep it a secret, not talking about it—it’s messed up. It’s not what you deserve.”

“It’s whatever.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not a world champion.“

“You’re Daniel Ricciardo.”

You put weight into his name because it means something to you, and it means something to the F1 community even if his team won’t give him a proper, respectful goodbye.

Daniel looks at you. His eyes are always so much lighter than you think they are, yellow-hazel like an eagle and sharp, intelligent, emotive. They show a lot. They show so little.

You want to know what he’s thinking. Want to split the skin of his forehead, shave away the bone underneath and peer inside to see how he’s hurting or healing or however he’s feeling. Broken? Elated? Caught up in what’s past or ready to face the next big thing?

You don’t know.

“There’s no one like you,” you tell him. You need him to know. “There’s never been anyone like you.“

Daniel smiles, eagle eyes quartered like the moon. “Thanks.”

His smile fades and you drop your head onto his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Yeah.”

Daniel lays his head on yours.

“Me, too.”

Separation anxiety | AFAB!Reader x Brahms Heelshire

Summary: Ever since Brahms revealed himself he can't stand being far from you, specifically, out of you...

Cw: Anxiety, separation anxiety, trust issues, abandonment issues, nsfw, smut, vaginal sex, self indulgence, mentions of pregnancy

From morning to night, Brahms had to be inside you, all day if it was possible

He had a huge sex drive, one that was almost insatiable and he needed you all the time, needed that tight pussy around his cock, he needed to be balls deep in you 24/7

It was the only way he felt close to you, like he belonged somewhere and that he was loved

So, whenever he had the chance, he would fit his cock inside you

For a man that's lived in walls for years, you didn't expect him to have such a huge and magnificent cock, it was huge, uncut and fat

Many mornings you woke up to him burying his dick inside you, making you moan and whine from just waking up "Brahms... It's too early" you would while at him

But he would look into your eyes, pleading you "Please Y/n... I need it... I need to feel you, to be inside you..."

So he would fuck you until you whined and pushed him off, or he would sit inside you for as long as he wanted to, or until he eventually fucked you

It didn't matter where, when or how, he would enter you when he wanted

You could be in the kitchen, cooking lunch or washing dishes and he would yank your pants or pajamas down and fuck you right where you were

Reading a book in the living room, he would spread you open and fuck you while you read your book, like nothing was happening

In the shower he would just go in with you and fuck you against the wall

Brahms was insatiable and you knew it, so you got used to never wearing panties around him, just putting on some shorts or pajama bottoms and go about your day, waiting for when he would get a raging boner and would come looking for you to satiate his hunger

"One day you'll get me pregnant Brahmsy and we'll have to raise a baby..." You said mindlessly flipping through a book as he pounded into you from behind on your shared bed

He groaned into your ear, "That's my goal... That way you can't leave me... You'll never leave... You'll have to stay here forever, raising a baby with me..." He said in between heavy breaths and moans

"Mmmmm, who said I was leaving honey?"

He smiled under his mask, pounding you harder now

Eventually he did get you pregnant... What did you expect?

You shift your weight in the cryomancer’s lap as you slot your lips against his. A chill instantly runs through you as his cold lips make contact with your soft plush ones. No matter how many times you kiss the cryomancer you can never get over the exhilarating feeling the cold brings. You part your lips with a sigh of his name as you feel his persistent tongue dancing along the seam of your lips. His tongue is slippery and cold but full of promises of pleasure as you bring your tongue to dance with his. Your hands card through his long silken hair earning a pleasured groan from the cryomancer. The sound is like music to your ears as you moan loudly into his mouth, hips shifting impatiently, grinding yourself against the growing bulge in his pants.

A loud cough causes both of you to stop dead in your tracks.

“Brother, Father wants to see you, he said it was urgent,” Kuai Liang says softly, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Bi-Han lets out what you can only assume are a string of curses in his native Chinese before leveling his icy gaze at his brother. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Bi-Han, go to him, he’s dying, this might be the last time you see him,” you try and reason with the annoyed cryomancer.

“Good. Let him die. He doesn’t deserve the comfort of my presence,” Bi-Han snarls angrily, the pain and hurt of years of abuse evident in his blue-ish brown eyes.

You whisper sweet promises of making love until dawn if he does this one last thing for you and because he loves you more than even his own pride he agrees to see his Father but doesn’t promise to make peace. You kiss his cheek and tell him you’re proud of him and will wait for him back in his room as the two of you exit the Grandmaster’s throne room and go your separate ways.

***

I don’t know what this is or if it is going anywhere I just wanted to write a sweet little kiss between the reader and Bi-Han but it got a little angsty which is so not my thing. So, yeah 🤷🏼‍♀️ enjoy a little soft time with Bi-Han before Kuai Liang and Papa Zero ruin all the fun? Basically I was just daydreaming about kissing Bi-Han.

Podium Princess | LN + CS + CL

Summary: Lando lost a bet, which would have just temporarily damaged his ego, but the problem was that you were the prize that Charles and Carlos desired for one night.

masterlist taglist form

© thef1diary 2024. do not repost without permission

Warnings: 18+, mmmf, unprotected sex, three men for three holes 🤭, fingering, oral, anal, dp?, filthy as fuck, derogatory terms (kinda), praise, overstimulation, riding.

pairing: lando x fem!reader x carlos x charles

wc: 3.1k

Request: You should totally write a smut about lando sharing his girlfriend with Carlos and Charles after placing in the #australiangp

"You did what?" You asked your boyfriend, wondering if you misheard his words. "I made a bet," Lando responded, but this time with more assurance.

You sat down on the bed in your shared hotel room and asked, "what is it?" Patting the spot next to you, silently indicating Lando to sit down and begin explaining the bet. You've known from the years you've been dating that whenever he places a wager, he eventually loses, but you chose against mentioning it.

He hesitated for a moment but then decided to explain how he ended up in that situation.

The evening began when Lando noticed Carlos and Charles speaking after the qualifying session. He observed they had been spending a lot of time together recently, so Lando obviously had to approach them and disrupt their latest gossip session.

Putting the trio together, one would discover that they never run out of topics to discuss, which is how they found themselves sitting in a car in the parking lot outside their hotel. Carlos suggested that since they were all staying at the same hotel for the weekend, they might as well leave the track together.

However, during the car ride, there was a discussion that quickly brought out the competitive nature that each driver had developed at a young age. "What, you guys don't think I'll win?" Lando asked the Ferrari drivers, slightly offended. This particular topic of conversation started once they discussed the possible winners for the race tomorrow.

Based on the three practice sessions and qualifying, it could be argued that while they all had a fairly nice weekend so far, some were still more fortunate than others. As a result, the Spaniard shook his head, disagreeing with his friend, "mate, I'm starting second tomorrow, which clearly means I have a better chance of winning."

"I was first in fp1," Lando retaliated although they all knew that qualifying in a higher position meant more than topping a single practice session.

"You might have a good chance, but Max is on pole, let's not forget that," Charles reminded his fellow colleagues. Lando perked up at his words, "exactly, so all Carlos needs to do is somehow crash him out of the race so I can win."

Charles laughed at the outrageous plan, but Carlos scoffed, "I won't ruin my chances at a podium for a race you won't win." Noticing Lando's defeated expression, it caused Charles to laugh harder. "Not that I think either of you would win, but let's make a bet," the Monégasque suggested.

"Who do you think will win?" Carlos asked. Charles' dimple deepened as he smiled, "me of course."

This time Lando scoffed, "yeah, sure mate," then he looked at Carlos, "what do I get when I win the bet?"

"This," Carlos stated while holding up his middle finger towards him. Rolling his eyes, he decided, "fine, I'll ask for something when I win, and then you two won't be able to deny it."

"And what do we get if you don't win?" Carlos asked, looking at Charles who was waiting for an answer from Lando.

While Lando was focused on what he would ask for if he won the bet, he failed to consider that Carlos or Charles were more likely to win than him. He would have a one-in-three chance of winning the wager, but Lando hadn't realized the extent of the situation just yet.

"Not that it'll happen but what do you guys want?" He asked only as a formality to actually set the bet.

Carlos was quiet for a moment as he thought of something that would be worthwhile, looking at Charles to see if he had any ideas. Then he thought of it—of you. "Your girlfriend," he simply stated.

It took two seconds for Lando to start laughing, not that it was ever a challenge to do so, but he initially assumed that Carlos was joking. His laughter quickly died down once he didn't hear either driver laugh along with him.

Looking in the backseat at Charles briefly, who nodded in agreement, Lando snapped his head towards Carlos, "what do you mean my girlfriend?"

"It's simple. If Charles or I win, then you have to share your girlfriend for a night, if not, then you don't," he explained nonchalantly.

Lando looked at Charles, "and you agree with him?" He shrugged, then nodded, "she's hot, I wouldn't say no."

He slumped back in his seat, "I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win." While Lando was secure in his abilities, both drivers around him thought he was growing overconfident. "So you agree, that if you don't win, we can have her?"

Nodding it off and waving his hand around, Lando agreed, "yeah, you can."

You were stunned into silence once he finished explaining. Noticing your lack of words, Lando was unsure of your thoughts. "You don't think I'll win?"

You shrugged, "all I'm gonna say is that you have twenty-one other chances to win this season if you don't win this race." You didn't exactly answer his question, but he realized that you weren't opposed or disgusted by the idea either. Pulling you into his lap, he tilted your chin upwards with his fingers and leaned closer for a kiss.

He tightened his grasp on your chin to stop you before you could press your lips against his. "Oh I see, you don't want me to win just so you can be passed around like a slut between my friends?"

"You wouldn't have put me as the prize if you didn't like the idea," you retaliated, smirking as you moved his hand away to finally place your lips on his.

—

You stood among the crowd, cheering for Lando, who took his place on the third step of the podium. As the podium celebrations began, a part of you was also looking forward to the celebrations that would follow later tonight. Lando may have lost a bet, but it was the first bet you were glad he lost.

That is how you ended up in your hotel room with your lover, waiting in anticipation for the other two drivers to arrive. With his trophy set aside, you and Lando were occupied with each other; your eyes closed and head tilted back as he trailed kisses down your throat.

Then came a knock on the door, one that made your heart race in all the best ways. Lando stood up and opened the door, revealing Charles and Carlos standing on the other side, still dressed in their Ferrari polos from earlier that evening.

"What did he say? I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win," Charles greeted by mocking Lando's words from the day before. "Alright, alright I get it but I still placed third," he retaliated which earned a nod from Carlos. "Congrats, cabrón."

You could hear them laughing among themselves, but it quickly died down once Carlos and Charles spotted you. Lando had suggested that you should wear red, considering both of the drivers that placed first and second adored red.

There you sat on the mattress, leaning back on your forearms with an ankle crossed over the other, clad in only a tight short red dress which you were glad you ended up packing.

"Well, fuck me," Charles muttered under his breath earning a chuckle from you once you heard his comment. Standing up and slowly stepping towards them, you replied, "fuck me indeed."

Your gaze was fixated on Carlos, the race winner, whose eyes revealed a glimpse of all the dirty thoughts racing through his mind. "Congratulations, you both deserve a good celebration," you said, smiling as you felt Carlos' arm snaking around your waist and Charles' breath fanning your face.

"Is that what you're going to give us? A good celebration?" Charles asked, his lips grazing your cheek. "I'll give you anything you want."

You looked at your boyfriend for a second, making sure he was still comfortable with the situation before proceeding any further. But you just saw desire in his eyes and while the corner of his lip curled up in a lazy smirk, a nod from him allowed you to carry on. He may have nodded at you, but his eyes darted over your head to his fellow drivers, "Go on then, Carlos, Charles, claim your prize."

Your lips parted slightly, marvelling at the fact that Lando hadn't even addressed you, instead treating you like an object to be claimed. The worst part was realizing that you liked it since his remarks had made you clench your thighs together.

Carlos grinned at your obedient behaviour as he was easily able to tip your head back to face him. Now that they truly had the freedom to do anything they wanted to you, with your permission, neither felt bad for having sinful thoughts about you—their best friend's girlfriend—while Carlos and Charles were alone in their bedrooms.

Kissing you with a sense of urgency, Carlos stole your breath away in a matter of seconds. Your thoughts had quickly dissipated into thin air as you felt Charles trailing his fingers up your body while pressing up behind you.

You heard Lando shuffle around before leaving the three of you alone in the bedroom for a moment which only intensified your feelings. Sandwiched between the two men who are good friends of yours, were now looking at you as if you are merely an outlet for their sexual desires.

Sliding down the straps that held your dress up, Charles continued kissing every inch of your bare skin revealed to him. His hands rounded to your front, pulling down the flimsy piece of fabric to display your tits to the duo. Your nipples instantly pebbled as Charles' fingers brushed against them, making you tilt your head back and resting it against his shoulder.

Letting you regain your breath, Carlos moved down to your neck, replacing each kiss Lando had placed earlier with small nips and grazes of his teeth, just painful enough to still be pleasurable.

While both their mouths were occupied, the Spaniard's hands pushed down the rest of your dress to the floor, parting away for a moment to let you to step out of it and toss it to the side with your feet.

Lando returned to the room, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth to prevent a moan from leaving his mouth. You were now completely bare, with two fully clothed drivers—his friends—pressed against you while their hands roamed all over your body.

Discarding his shirt on the floor, he occupied your mouth with another kiss, muffling your moans. "Fuck, enjoying yourself, baby?" Lando muttered once you parted away for a moment. Nodding, you opened your mouth to respond but a sharp gasp left your mouth as you felt Charles' fingers teasing your clit while Carlos palmed your ass.

"Merde, she's so perfect," the Monégasque commented, spreading your pussy with two fingers while a third finger swiped through your folds to catch the wetness that gathered between. "Charles," you breathlessly whispered, a plead for more.

"So ready to be ruined," Carlos added, his own fingers prodding your ass, earning a string of curses along with pleas to keep going from you. Gathering your slick from your cunt, Carlos coated his fingers to ease just the tip of one finger into your ass.

Soon enough, you were laid down on the bed, and one by one the three men stripped their clothes away, adding to the ever growing pile that started from your dress. You could barely keep your eyes open due to the feeling of three pairs of hands roaming everywhere, not leaving any inch of your skin untouched.

You had already orgasmed twice, but you couldn't remember whose fingers brought you over the edge the first, or even the second time, as all of the sensations mushed together in what felt like one never ending wet dream.

Staying true to your words of giving them anything they desired, you moaned around Carlos' cock as Charles slid his dick in your pussy without any forewarning. Your grasp on his thighs tightened as Charles began to thrust, slowly at first but then showed no mercy once his grasp on your hips tightened.

Carlos pulled your mouth off his cock, but quickly replaced the emptiness you immediately felt with two of his fingers resting heavily on your tongue. His actions didn't allow you to close your jaw, causing you to drool down your chin, and only then he was satisfied.

"Such a good fucking girl," he commented, which only made your head spin further while you smiled at the compliment. "Oh she likes that," Charles added as he felt your pussy clench around him at Carlos' praise.

His fingers that were now coated with your saliva trailed down your body to where you and Charles were connected. He nodded mockingly at his teammate's comment, "yeah, you like being praised?"

Easily finding your swollen clit, he slightly pinched it before creating small circles, edging you closer. You nodded, "please, please, please." You were sobbing for relief, your voice strained from the constant cries that left your lips with each new wave of ecstasy.

Connecting their gaze, Charles and Carlos smirked as they silently agreed to let you cum once again. Charles's fingers slid closer to your back hole, this time able to slide two fingers down to the last knuckle. At the same time, Carlos' fingers left your clit only to join the thrusts of Charles' cock, scissoring two of his fingers in your pussy to stretch you out even further. Pleasure surged through your body, and you closed your eyes tightly at the sudden sensation of being so full.

Charles slowed down his thrusts, prolonging your post orgasmic sensation. You slumped forwards when he pulled out, still holding back his own release for now.

Despite still being eager, they were ever patient with you especially after bringing you over the edge multiple times now, knowing your limbs were close to tiring out.

Still on your hands and knees, you shuffled up to straddle Carlos, sinking down on down cock this time, mouth dropping open as he stretched you out slightly differently compared to Charles.

"C'mon, cariño, ride me," he instructed, resting his hands on your hips, urging your movements while also allowing you to depend on him for help. "You feel so good, Carlos," you panted.

You heard some shuffling around you again but you couldn't move your gaze away from watching your pussy engulf Carlos' cock over and over again.

However, you were startled once you felt a cool sensation prodding your ass; Charles' fingers coated in lube. "Need you to relax, baby," you could hear Lando's words and he was quick to come into your view, stroking his dick to the sight of you filled by his former teammate.

He grabbed your hand off of Carlos' shoulder, guiding it towards his cock. Already slick with his precum, you could easily move your hand up and down, watching his reaction with hooded eyes.

Charles' free hand wrapped around your throat from behind while he whispered in your ear, "we're gonna fill up all of your holes, darling."

Groaning, you nodded, "please," a word that you had repeatedly spoken to the point where it sounded like a broken record. "You want that?" One of them asked, but you couldn't focus on whose voice it was. "Fill me up, please," your words turning into a moan as Carlos shifted underneath you, reaching deeper inside.

Releasing the grasp on your throat, Charles focused on opening you up with his fingers, for you to be able to take his cock in your ass while Carlos continued pounding your pussy.

Lando replaced Charles' hand, grabbing the back of your neck, threading his fingers in your hair to bring you close for a filthy kiss. Tongues and teeth clashing, he slightly bit down on your bottom lip, sucking and pulling on it for a moment before letting go.

Without any words exchanged, your boyfriend guided your mouth towards his cock, filling up two out of three of your holes. It took you a moment before you actually started moving your head up and down, moaning and drooling on his cock because of Carlos' upward thrusts.

Charles removed his fingers, having deemed to have stretched you out enough then coating his dick with a good amount of lube. With one hand palming and spreading your ass, he used the other to guide his cock into you. Your eyes welled up with tears, not entirely painful but almost overwhelmed with being filled everywhere at once.

Your body was quickly calmed down by Lando, Charles, and Carlos as they moved their hands all over you in soothing motions. Charles began thrusting when you nodded because you were unable to speak while Lando's dick was in your mouth.

Your muffled groans sounded distant to you, mind foggy, but you had never felt so full and aware before.

With a warning, Lando filled your mouth with cum, which you swallowed greedily without hesitation. Now, with your mouth unoccupied, you couldn't hold back on your moans. "Gonna cum," you warned, knowing you won't last long, still sensitive from your previous orgasms.

Charles' fingers reached your chest, teasing and pinching your nipples while Carlos rested his palms on your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

Your pace stuttered as you came around his cock, and Carlos took the reins and thrusted upwards, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. "Fuck, where do you want us?" Charles asked, tethering on the edge and based on Carlos' stuttering pace, you knew he was too.

Your next words pushed both over the edge, "inside." Slumping forwards, you felt both Ferrari drivers filling you up with their cum. "Fucking hell, that was hot," Lando commented, leaning closer to brush away the strands of hair stuck on your forehead due to sweat.

Charles and Carlos carefully eased you off their cocks, with Lando helping you lie down on the bed which you immediately melted into.

It was unbearable for you to be completely empty after being entirely filled. Mustering up all your strength, you held your arms out for your boyfriend, who immediately joined you on the bed, whispering praises in your ear.

Meanwhile, Carlos and Charles decided to clean you up by wiping the cum that had leaked out of your holes with a damp towel. They saw the bruises from their grasps on you in the heat of the moment and couldn't help but smile, knowing they were the cause of it.

You hoped, as you drifted off to sleep, that the three of them would share the podium more frequently, and therefore, share you as well.

Taglist based on the form (let me know if you would like to be removed) @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @evlkking @jointhehunt67 @wonnou @nikfigueiredo

Our Little Love part four - mafia/soft Yandere au

So this started out not how it ended..... I tried a thing, it didnt work, it wasn't even in the original plan but Hoseok and his evil gleam made me do it, and after days of crying over it I give up

Trigger warnings: Yandere, mentions of blood and potential murder, possessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, bondage, theres a knife but no one gets cut, fingering, pussy slapping, oral, love bites, dry humping, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex..... I think that covers it. 10.9K words

“Let’s do an exercise,” you say, glancing around the cafe as the three of you sit in the booth. “A trust exercise”

Yoongi and Jungkook don’t look impressed as your gaze falls onto the approaching waiter that sends a smile and a wave your way. They both tense, glares forming.

“I’m going to go talk to the waiter and you’re not going to blow his brains out,” you state confidently.

“Dove, do you really want to make this quaint little cafe into a crime scene?” Yoongi turns to you with a fake gummy smile, an arm around your shoulder before the waiter reaches the table, tilting his head and blinking a few times innocently.

“It's such a nice place,” Jungkook says under his breath, shuffling closer to you, a possessive hand to your waist. “It would be a shame to stain it with blood.”

You gulp, knowing their threats weren’t half hearted, but roll your eyes at the pair, there goes today's trust exercise.

Since your return, your criminal boyfriends had promised to behave better, become better, and while they were trying it was still very much a push and pull battle. Today you would accept defeat, there was no point in ending an innocent guy's life because your boyfriends woke up extra jealous and grumpy this morning.

“Good morning and welcome to Time To Rise, my name’s Felix, what can I get for you all today?”

You want to wince at the fact he’s addressing you while he speaks, grabbing both Yoongi and Jungkook’s other hands under the table to keep them calm. The lovely waiter startles suddenly but you don’t look up from the table to see why, you don’t see the sadistic evil grins on your boyfriend’s faces that promised endless mindless torture. You give their hands a squeeze, begging wordlessly as your heart rate skyrocketed in worry. Maybe it was a bad idea to get breakfast… As soon as the waiter backs away and turns around the perturbed smiles are gone, displeasure replacing their expressions.

“He keeps looking over here hyung,” Jungkook huffs, his leg becoming restless. You stop holding his hand only to place your palm on his thigh, making him look at you.

“Because two very scary guys acted sketchy while ordering breakfast,” you very carefully defend Felix while simultaneously berating the youngest love of your life lightly with your tone.

Your eyes accidentally meet with the waiters, and immediately you look away before they notice.

“I hope he doesn’t call the police…” you mumble, biting your lip as your worrisome thoughts run away from you.

“He keeps glancing at you darling,” Yoongi notes, leaning into you to murmur in your hair while maintaining eye contact with the man in question.

You groan out in frustration.

“Because even I acted like a complete weirdo and stared at the table when he came over!”

Jungkook sniggers at your whining outburst, the sight poking a hole in his demeanour. He leans his head against yours, the flare of affection making him close the distance as he scrunches his nose against your cheek. You were so cute, how did you have him wrapped around your little finger? You don’t miss the way he was trying to press as much of his body against yours, that hand on your waist squeezing lightly. You push your head back against his, just as affectionately and playfully before rolling your eyes, knowing what he wanted but playing dumb.

“Even still, he should mind his own business,” Yoongi grumbles, eyes becoming more and more like daggers. He smirks a little when finally there’s some realisation in the boy's eyes from your interaction with Jungkook, who was now poking your sides because you hadn’t kissed him yet making you giggle because it tickled. Yes, you were here with both of them, how long did that take to get into this stupid kid’s brain? Was his arm around you not indication enough that you were taken? Or did the pest not care? “Wait till Jimin gets here…”

“You promised no civilians would get hurt this morning before we left,” you remind them, grabbing Jungkook’s arm to stop him for a second as you turned back to address Yoongi. “You don't hurt innocent people, you’re not going to start doing so because of me.”

“But babygirl anyone who looks at you lik-”

“Jungkook, I am not having this conversation again,” you press your finger to his lip with a stern gaze. “Everyone is innocent until proven guilty, no matter how they look at me.”

You internally cringe at your own lecture, but honestly it needed to be said out loud a billion times otherwise it was like talking to a brick wall, it just didn’t get through.

“Yoongi stop staring at him,” you snap.

Instead the shorter ruthless criminal moves his deadset eyes to you, stifling the way the corner of his lips tried to lift in a smirk as you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. To say the past six months of your relationship was turbulent would be an understatement. You had become a ghost of the person you were when the secret of your identity became uncovered. When your betrayal was revealed that you were a detective sent to unravel their syndicate from within, it created insecurities and doubts within you all. You walked on eggshells, your strong demeanour stripped, and with it your relationship.

As much as Yoongi and the others hated to admit it, and never verbally would, the distance of you leaving did you good, it brought you back to your own body and back to them. You were your own person again, the women they all fell irrevocably in love with, obsessed with; their little love. Nothing was going to take you away from them ever again, not even yourself.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” you mumble, the pair of them breaking out into amused grins as they rise to follow you.

“No, seriously? It’s the bathroom,” you chastise them both, if you couldn’t teach them the earlier lesson with the waiter, they were going to learn something now. “Sit.”

Finger pointed at the pair and eyes narrowed, they stay in their seats like little wounded untrained puppies with severe attachment issues, convinced you were leaving them forever. Smothering sexy obsessive little boyfriends, they were going to have to learn the hard way, a little bit of distance was good and healthy. Breathing room, you had called it once, and the youngest three had given you aghast looks of disgust.

You chuckle to yourself at the memory in the bathroom of the cafe, the three stalls empty when you had entered. You hear the door open behind you, instantly assuming it was one of the boys, a scolding complaint ready to leave your lips as you turn to the sound with a groan, but you find the last person you ever expected to see.

“Ca-captain…?” You gasp in shock at the figure that snuck in behind you, but the feeling quickly fades when you remember who waited for you outside of this room. “You can’t be here.”

“Y/n,” Suho greets you casually, as if he hadn’t been tailing you for months waiting for an opportunity to talk to you alone. “How are you?”

Memories of your old partners battered body resurface into your mind, the consequence of the last time you revisited your old life blaring like a siren.

“You can’t be seen with me,” you warn him hurriedly, trying to move past him back to the boys. He blocks your path, not touching you but effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“You were my best detective L/n,” he sighs. “You of all people would never get tempted to go rogue, what the hell happened?”

“Suho please,” you beg him, panicking for his safety, sweating as you eyed the door with worry.

“Then Kai turns up black and and blue outside of a hospital without an explanation,” he declares. “And he won’t say a word, and here you are traipsing around with the men you were trying to put away.”

His confusion was apparent, the disgust was thinly veiled. He had taken you and Kai under his wing, the three of you ran that precinct, the day you handed in your resignation was the biggest slap to his face. Everything you had done for your career, the youngest female detective in the country, you were going places and you threw it all away? It made no sense to him. Hell, Suho even admitted if the system wasn’t outdated and sexist as it was, you would’ve made captain a long time before he did. Was that the reason you let all your hard work slip down the drain? Did BTS promise you something he would never be able to? But you were straight as an arrow when it came to your morals, you always had been, what did these monsters dangle under your nose that made you turn?

Your worst fear is materialised when the door creaks open, and your heart stops beating, petrified.

“Heaven, what’s taking you so-”

Jimin had finally joined the three of you, you had threatened to leave without him this morning if he didn’t wake up. He didn’t take you seriously until he heard the front door slam as you left, stumbling out of bed to get ready and join you. When he arrived, he patiently sat with the others at the table for all of two minutes before he decided it had been too long since he had last seen you, and it was a good thing he had.

Jimin’s eyes glaze over in a way that lets you know he only had murder on the brain and nothing more. The second he stalks up to your former boss you snap out of your stupor, side stepping Suho to push your boyfriend back by his chest.

“Jimin stop,” his hands grab your wrists harshly to move you aside, eyes burning a hole through the captain, but you press yourself against him as much as you can to physically stop him, looking up at him desperating searching for a sign of reaching him. “Baby he was just checking on me that was it.”

You see his nostrils flare, the grip on your wrists tighten with your words.

“Let’s just talk it through,” you beg. “Jiminie, you promised…”

That seemed to spark something in him, a flash of conscience passing through his eyes, finally turning to you as you let out a breath of relief. You dare to look in Suho’s way to find a look of realisation and shock there, looking away guiltily as you buried your face in your boyfriend’s neck.

“Captain Kim,” Yoongi’s voice joins you all with confidence and you close your eyes at the sound, praying for everything to please be alright. “I did not expect to find you here in the woman’s bathroom.”

Jimin lets go of you, but the action only makes you grab onto his jacket, pressing yourself closer to him as if you sought him out for comfort. He could read your body language, and while it confused him in this situation, that’s exactly what you were doing. He didn’t hesitate to bring his arms around you, protecting you from your old captain as he began to glare at him again.

“I must have misread the sign,” Suho chuckles emptily. “It must’ve been an easy thing to do since we’ve all found our way here.”

You don’t see him glance behind Yoongi where Jungkook stood, eyes piercing as his fists balled at his sides. The tallest of them chewed his lips to stop himself lunging at the captain of Seoul’s police force, all for your sake. He wondered if you counted this man to be part of the innocent quota, it would be a real shame if you did.

—

Yoongi drove you all back to the house, you had refused to peek out of the juncture of Jimin’s neck, shoulder and chest area during the journey, or even after the interaction, only nuzzling into the shorter male’s skin as your thoughts swam away and you drowned in them. Jungkook had glanced in the rearview mirror at the way his hyung was holding you in his lap. What had that stupid oaf desk jockey said to you to make you like this? He had half a mind to get Yoongi to turn the car around and beat the captain to a pulp for ever putting such a look on your face. What the hell was going on in that head of yours?

Even Yoongi found himself watching you both repeatedly as he drove, worry etched on his features.

“Dove, do you want to tell us what’s going on in that little head of yours?” Yoongi dares to ask but just as he suspected the question makes you sink further into Jimin.

“Little love, can we just appreciate the fact that we didn’t put a bullet through his brain like we wanted to,” Jungkook stated, thinking he was helping. “Even though the way you’re acting is driving us crazy, we’re holding ourselves back for you so please baby talk to us, we’re losing it.”

“Heaven,” Jimin calls for you softly, fingers stroking your arms gently as if it would coax you out. “What did he say?”

You only shake your head against him, unknowingly cementing their doubts and worries. Communication was key when your boyfriends were bordering on the maniacal side, your gesture of “no I don’t want to talk about the situation, I want to bury my head in the sand” badly translated to “no I don’t want to tell you what he said to protect him or because what he said hurt me” and that made their anger surge.

Yoongi’s knuckles gripped the steering wheel as he fought every fibre in his body not to turn the car around and run over the captain of the city of Seoul. His patience had worn thin, it was hanging by a mere atom, the thread had torn to pieces.

“Darling,” his voice was tense and heavy, you could hear it. “What. Did. He. Say?”

There’s a whimper and a sniffle, a stifling sob that has all the men silent in shock with their jaws open for a moment before Yoongi’s rage takes over.

“That’s it!”

The car swerved violently as it turned around to find the Seoul’s syndicate’s next victim.

“No no no!” You cry out through tears, finally breaking away from Jimin’s neck as you beg Yoongi to stop his plans of vengeance. “He didn’t say anything!”

“Then why are you crying!”

“I just didn’t expect to see that part of my life again,” you lie as convincingly as you can, watching their brows furrow with confusion as they try to make sense of your words. “Please just turn around, please! I just want to go home.”

Yoongi sighs as he watches you in the rear view mirror, a loud volatile debate in his head of what he should do. He conceded to the watering eyes begging him, silencing the part of his brain that wanted to skin the captain’s flesh from his bones. He’d save that for another day, whether you allowed it or not. Maybe by then he’d settle for something less drastic so as not to upset you.

—

“Yoongi I can walk,” you mumble into his neck as he carries you back to the house bridal style over the threshold.

“Why?” He scoffs harshly. “So you can run to your room and hide as soon as you step through the door?”

Dammit, he knew you too well. The way you tighten your arms around his neck only confirmed his suspicions, there was no way he was letting you go until they spoke to Namjoon.

Call it an overreaction, call it melodramatic or controlling or whatever, but last time you saw someone from that part of your life it ended with you running away from them and that fear had Yoongi in a chokehold. Yes, he knew their behaviour may have had some part to play in that decision, but in his brain the two events were directly correlated and no amount of reasoning or logic was going to convince him otherwise. The only positive thing he could take away from that interaction with your old boss was they behaved better than what they did when you met your former partner. Although, he still couldn’t bring himself to regret their actions then, only the consequences.

Jungkook and Jimin had sped in front of you both as soon as you parked to find the leader of the world’s biggest syndicate. As Yoongi kicked the front door closed behind him, Namjoon could be seen rushing down the steps with worry, the rest of your boyfriends behind him.

“Little love?”

“What happened?

“Why isn’t he in a body bag hyung?”

Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung are quick to voice their concern but Namjoon watches you closely, even though he can’t see your face, he can see the way you’re tensing in Yoongi’s arms. The pair make eye contact, Yoongi nodding at the nonverbal command as he gently places your feet on the ground, your arms stubbornly refusing to let him go.

The others watch as he strokes your arm encouraging you to release him, a hand around your waist to support you against him. He places a swift kiss to your cheek in wordless apology as he takes your wrist in his hand pulling you away so you're forced to face Namjoon’s hard stare.

There’s a palpable pause in the room as they take your features in, the obvious signs that you had been crying evident for them all to see, which they do with shock initially, jaws opening before they clench close in fury.

“What did he say little love?” Hoseok’s anger was always the worst, he took it out on anyone around him like a bomb, or a fire uncontained.

“Where are we burying him?” Taehyung eyes pierce through you, his gaze fixed on your tear stained cheeks, his expression and voice void of emotion as his rage ran deep. He was going to bury the fucker alive, he was going to watch him drown in the dirt slowly, painfully, crying and begging for his own life.

Jin takes a step towards you but a hand on his shoulder stops him, Namjoon’s stare doesn’t falter when he takes the step instead, offering you his hand as Yoongi lets go of your wrist so you can take it. You don’t straight away, looking up at him hesitantly, trying to gauge his thoughts, trying to come up with a way to diffuse the situation without revealing your innermost insecurities and saving Suho’s life.

You let out a shaky sigh before placing your hand in his, his grip comforting but firm as he takes you to the living room, the place they brought you to after everything was revealed. It was also a place where Namjoon gave you what you called the debriefing of your punishments, and you feared this was what was happening now. Your thoughts seemed to be heading in the right direction because Namjoon sat on the couch where those occurrences took place, looking up at you expectedly as he had multiple times before. Your nerves tingle with worry, you knew why he was doing this, the position of your debriefs had you vulnerable, on his lap with his eyes focused on you. You couldn’t lie to him or hide from him here and you both knew it.

“Joonie,” you whispered in protest, pulling your hand away but his grip tightened. He doesn’t say a word, patient and expectant as ever, rubbing small soothing circles on the skin he held with his thumb as you tried to calm your spiking anxiety. You might’ve associated the situation with being in trouble, but it was supposed to be a safe place too, Namjoon had always wanted that, and in the beginning it was. The recent events may have scuppered the behavioural link he worked so hard to build into you, but that was his fault, he would admit it.

He tugs your hand gently when you’re still hesitant, watching you take deep breaths before taking the plunge and bringing your thighs to either side of his, straddling him as his hands find your waist. He lets you look away from him, lets you find your bearings, waiting patiently for your eyes to find his.

As soon as you look into those deep brown eyes you try to look away but he isn’t having it, there isn’t any room for regression in your relationship. His fingers grip your chin so you have no choice but to face him, your eyes focusing on his lips until he squeezes hard.

That’s better, he thinks when your eyes settle on his, the vulnerability in them increasing tenfold as each second passes as he expected. You always let your anxiety fill the silence, you had a fear of it for some reason, as if you thought if someone wasn’t talking they were thinking bad things about you, judging you, and if you spoke you could stop those thoughts from ever forming. It was a childish practice but it worked in his favour.

This time however, you were adamant about keeping your lips sealed, he could see it. The others had come to stand around you both, Hoseok sitting in the chair behind you like he normally did during your debriefs, making sure you understood whatever lesson they had to teach.

“He didn’t say anything,” you finally breathe to defend Suho, despising yourself for not being able to keep your emotions in check when any misunderstanding caused by them could result in serious consequences. He didn’t do anything wrong, he was looking for answers, you could understand that, you just prayed they would too.

“I know the Captain has been tailing you little love,” Namjoon admits, an eyebrow raised as if you were questioning his intellect. He brings your face closer to his inspecting the shock on your face by his revelation, he was by no means an idiot.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mumble.

“What good would it have done?” he asks.

“We don’t keep secrets,” you repeat his words to him from ages back, hurt that he didn’t feel the need to tell you your old life was chasing you.

“You’re keeping one now,” Jungkook scoffs from where he’s standing behind the couch, leaning on his hands, looking away when Namjoon shuts him up with a glare.

“I’m a reasonable man, little love,” the leader of the syndicate states as matter of fact, “I can understand why your old captain was interested as to why his best detective would join forces with the most heinous criminals the country has to offer…”

He chuckles, dimples forming on his soft cheeks as if he were harmless, and his words were fiction. He knows he’s tailed his own men for less, any whiff of betrayal and the barrel of his gun follows until it finds proof.

“...what I don’t understand is how he got to you.”

Any trace of his gentle tone is gone and replaced with a hard stare, the words aimed at Yoongi and Jungkook who began shuffling uncomfortably, but you received the look in his eyes. With his jaw clenched and eyes burning, it was easy to see why so many of their enemies screamed with fear as they begged for their lives in front of this man, how many of them tried to run away at the sight. And the worst part was you knew, you were only seeing a fraction of the terror he could induce.

“Or your reaction to whatever it is he supposedly didn’t say.”

“Why did you cry little love?” Jin can’t help asking softly, watching your features. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, he knew that was why Namjoon was questioning you here, why he commanded their silence with his eyes when he took your hand. Unfortunately the slip had a domino effect.

“Did you miss him? Taehyung almost spits, eyes narrowing on your form.

“It didn’t look like a heartwarming reunion from where I was standing,” Jimin scoffs, arms crossed, annoyance written over his angelic features. His foot taps impatiently, wanting you out with it, whatever it was causing your heartache.

They had to know, how did you not understand that yet, anything that affected you, anything to do with you, they had to know. When they didn’t it felt like an unsettling itch from within that they just couldn’t reach, something so out of their control it flared their darker sides, their anger and malice. Whatever it took to satisfy that itch.

The trance Namjoon enveloped you under, where you believed it was just you and him, shattered with their words. You felt their penetrating stares pierce you over and over, the feeling of panic rising in you like a wave, exactly what the man still holding your chin in his hand wanted to avoid.

He sighs, his plan gone to waste. So much for trying patience, unfortunately he would have to rely on his more underhanded tactics. He sends the other heads of his syndicate glares and they disgruntledly back off before he turns his attention back to you.

Focus on me baby, he strokes your hair, you resembled a deer in headlights, spooked and frozen. He could feel your heart racing, it was beating so loud and hard against your chest that it reverberated to every inch of your skin. He would’ve loved to have met you as a detective in the interrogation room, would have loved to see you in action. Your ferocity, tenacity, he knew what you were capable of, he just revelled in the fact it all melted away so easily with them.

He chuckles lightly at the way your breath catches, the way your eyes are searching his, he keeps them soft, luring you into a sense of security, false or otherwise. He pulls you forward and traps you in a kiss, groaning as you press back and open your mouth for him. Any notion of ever losing you would be cut like a cord before it ever formed. When they held you in their arms like this, they would burn cities for you should you ask it, they would beat any living thing that ever dared touch their little love.

He smirks when you whine as he releases you, wanting to feel flattered but knowing you probably guessed your time was up the moment you both parted. You would have to give in soon, there was never going to be another outcome that they would accept. His lips still touch yours as you chase them, the vice grip on your chin keeping you still. Namjoon knew exactly how to torture all of his victims, including you.

“You can tell me dove…” he murmurs against your lips. “Or I can pass you over to Hoseok and the others… you remember how that went last time.”

You suck in a breath of shock, the ghost of pleasure and pain jolting through you at the memory. The men all watch you swallow, a dark glint in their gazes as their eyes trace from your neck to your waist and thighs. Jungkook pulls down the top of his t-shirt, the material too close to his neck now that he felt the room suddenly heat up. He subtly, slowly, so not to attract attention, presses his crotch to the back of the couch as he watches you take in Namjoon’s words, a sadistic part of him hoping you would stay quiet. He grips on to the headrest, a small uncontrolled roll of his hips as he remembers the sounds that came out of your mouth that night, they way they echoed in his head now. The veins popping in his arms catches your sight, your eyes tracing them up to his fucked out expression. You can’t breathe.

“Or maybe you want that,” Namjoon laughs, amused by your stupor, calling for your attention.

You shake your head desperately in disagreement, pushing back on his chest to gain some distance, but his hand only shackles around your wrist, chaining you to him.

“This is taking too long,” Hoseok states irritatedly, the undertone of wanting to move things along in his direction heard by the others.

“I need a minute,” you plead, head bowed from their lust filled gazes, trying to get your breathing back under control, but they were having none of it.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon calls him forward, handing over the reins, enjoying your expression of utter surprise and betrayal. He was going to be patient, he promised himself he would be, but each second you kept your mouth closed made their worry spike. “Times up little love.”

You didn’t have to turn around to see his domineering aura, you could feel it creep up your back, sending shivers up your spine as he approached. The hunter stalking the deer. His arm wraps around your middle, hoisting you up from Namjoon’s lap, carrying you to his bedroom, the others following and trying their hardest to stifle their glee. You very feebly try to push his arm away, unable to find your voice. A part of you knew it was best to be docile, to not fight back, your body remembering the pulsating plethora of pain and pleasure from last time.

The second your feet touch the floor, you’re pushed back onto his bed, landing on your butt with a bounce.

“Taehyung, rope,” he extends his hand out to the younger male, kneeling down in front of you and pushing you flat on the bed with his other hand. He hovers above you, face inches from your own, the rope tauntingly waved in your peripherals.

“Still not going to say a word, love?” he asks, an eerie calm in his eyes.

You shake your head no in reply, voice still caught in your throat.

“So you understand the consequences?” He was giving you a chance to end it before it began, in his own way he was asking for your consent, the choice was yours to make, the only thing they wouldn’t let you decide was whether or not you would tell them. The question wasn’t if you would spill whatever secret you were keeping in your chest, it was when, and if you tortured them with the length of the reveal, they would return the favour in their own manner.

You nod, accepting your fate, jaw set to stubborn. He tsks loudly, the rope tracing your cheeks almost like caress.

“Do you understand the consequences, little love?” he repeats himself, voice harder than it was before.

“Yes,” it's quiet but firm, the second it's out a grin breaks out on his face, but it doesn’t reach the promise in his eyes.

—

Hoseok’s bed was made for moments like this, you lying spread eagle, each limb tied to each post as their eyes devoured your form. Eight bodies in his room all under his control, unless Namjoon decided to intervene, but he wouldn’t let the possibility of that sour where his plans were heading.

He could see your hands pull at the rope, your muscles tensing as you still refused to speak, but it didn't matter anymore, they had all night to extract the information from you.

“Hyung stop teasing us, the dress next,” Jungkook whined as Yoongi took his time with you.

The aforementioned male was currently under instruction to undress you with his knife. He had already discarded the tights, kissing everywhere his blade traced carefully. He would never cut you, not his darling, even if the others liked to play rough sometimes, within reason. He was already eyeing your wrists and ankles with distaste, but this was Hoseok’s domain, he would berate him later if you got hurt in any way.

“Panties next, then dress,” Jin directs, receiving a scowl from the maknae.

“Hyung!”

Yoongi ignores the two squabbling, eyeing the dress as his hand kneads the supple flesh of your thigh. The knife hangs above your sternum, your chest heaving with each breath in anticipation as you watch the glint of the metal.

“Hold still love,” Yoongi murmurs, but how were you supposed to with it so close to your chest?

You look away, face turned to the mattress, eyes closed as you hold your breath. He’s so delicate, you know he’d never hurt you, but you can feel the whisper of what that weapon could do, and it's both terrifying and thrilling in every sense.

You only open your eyes when you feel his lips pepper kisses of praise from the highest point of your cheek, down your jaw to the newly exposed skin of your cleavage. Distracting you with his mouth, he does away with the remaining material of what used to be your dress, discarding it quickly off the bed before he seals your lips desperately with his own, pressing his clothed body onto your almost bare form. He wanted to tell you how well you did, but he knew praises weren’t part of the plan today. Instead he let his mouth devour yours, tongue tasting you with a pleasant moan. The knife is placed out of reach somewhere so he can cup your cheek, his other hand roaming your sides.

You try to touch, frustrated as you pull against the rope, forgetting the whole reason why you were in this position to begin with.

“Hyung, the rest of her clothes,” Jimin reminds him impatiently, waiting for his turn.

Yoongi begrudgingly parts his lips from yours, a tiny string of saliva still connecting you both together as he leans his forehead against yours.

“Just tell us little love,” he almost begs, but you show no signs of doing so.

He sighs, features turning to stone as he sits up, the blade unforgivingly tearing through your underwear until no inch of you was hidden. You shiver when he pins you down with a look in his eyes that makes sure you understood that, there was nothing you could hide from them, nothing that they couldn’t uncover.

They were the most powerful men in Seoul, and while they worshipped you, while you were the only being they loved, an angel amongst ants, you were not out of the reach of that power. You didn’t feel naked until Yoongi walked away from you, and suddenly you were aware of every inch of skin that was exposed to them. They stand around you in a disjointed circle, predators proud of the prey they caught in their trap. There it was, Hoseok could see it, that look of realisation in your eyes, this was the level of vulnerability he wanted you to feel. He wanted it to creep up your limbs into your chest until your heart pumped at their mercy.

“I’m starting to think our darling wanted to end up in this position,” Seokjin is the first to reach your form out of them, his eyes directly on your glistening folds before his fingers plunge into your warmth. He smirks as your back tries to arch off the bed, mouth agape at the intrusion. “Keeping secrets so we can ‘punish’ her like this.”

He says it mockingly as you clench around him, slowly fucking you with his digits as you try to maintain control over yourself.

“No, that's not it,” you deny airly, trying to sound defiant.

“Really love?” He removes his fingers to show you the evidence, your wetness coating them clearly in the light. All you could focus on was how empty you suddenly were, the way your core ached to be filled again after being teased with the feeling for a fleeting moment. But Jin was determined to play judge, jury and executioner, a knowing smirk on his face as he sucks your sweetness from his fingers. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t rub your thighs at the sight, but you still tried, cursing whoever was chuckling at your attempts. Fucking restraints.

As underhanded as it was, the horny side of your brain now fully took over, thinking of a way to get out of this position and move straight on to dessert. You tug against the ropes, wincing audibly, frowning for them all to see. You don’t miss the flare of concern passing through their features, containing your own smirk at how easy they could be to manipulate when it came to your safety, normally you would never ever think of doing it but if Hoseok had his way, you would be tied here for most of the night. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes closing as if in pain.

“The rope burns,” you say weakly, pouting sadly with glistening puppy dog eyes.

“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi chastises the mastermind, ready to untie you in a heartbeat but unfortunately for you, Hobi could see right through your charade.

“Yoongi it hurts,” you whine pathetically and honestly it makes him laugh, the others were whipped for your little act, he could see the worry in their brows as they fought with themselves to release you, but they wouldn’t until Hoseok allowed it. Good for him, Namjoon had kept a level head despite your words, otherwise his little ploy to overdose you with their version of love and affection would come to an end.

“Hyung she’s playing with us,” your more sadistic boyfriend announces, shaking his head at your audacity. They were trained killers and torturers, did you really think that was going to get past him just because you knew how to tug at their heart strings?

You could almost scowl at him, Yoongi was seconds away from taking a step towards you, you knew it. Instead you find yourself fighting a shudder when Hobi stands in front of you instead.

“Dove, you start this punishment every time thinking you’re going to win,” he chuckles, his palm on your thigh stroking your skin softly. “But you don’t, what makes you think this time will be different?”

Maybe it’s the position, maybe it was the pressure from their gazes but the words slip out of you against your better judgement.

“I don’t want to tell you this time,” you whisper. You watch all of their eyes darken at your confession, past the confines of lust and into the depths of possession. Whether or not there was a challenge to your tone, they had already accepted it.

He hums deeply, but you can see the fire ignite in his eyes as he stares you down, his thumb finding your clit, circling slowly. He doesn't need to see your slick gush out of you, he can feel it on his digits, smirking as his circling gets wider.

“Third time lucky huh baby?” he asks, a smug look plastered on his face, mocking you as he watches you press your lips into a line, your head pushed back against the pillow they so kindly placed under it, the way you so obviously swallowed down any sounds of pleasure before they could reach the open air. The other pillow was placed under your hip so they could reach and see you easier, and now as he inspected it, it was probably going to have to be thrown away with the mess you were making. “Well?”

Quick as a bullet, the smile is wiped from his face, thumb gone only for four fingers to slap your cunt hard. The sudden whiplash breaks you, lips unsealed to release a startled whimper into the room. This was why this position was his favourite, everything he gave you, you had to lie there and take.

“I asked you a question, dove,” he says menacingly, those four fingers rubbing round your folds to both calm and cause you ache.

You don’t even remember him asking one, the way your pussy was throbbing had your mind firing blanks. He doesn’t give you the opportunity to recover, another harsh hit has you crying out. Your eyes prickle with tears at the sting, but he soothes the pain quickly as he strokes your cunt, spreading your juices, making a mess, pushing you abruptly over the line to pleasure before your mind could catch up with you.

“H-hobi,” you choke out his name as you lose yourself to the feeling, pleading with the man to give you a second to think. “Fuck I-”

You had to remember quickly, you’ve seen him play this game before with actual victims of his torture, though obviously not like this. It always went on and on until they gave him an answer, and he didn’t stop until they did. He explained it to you before, it wasn’t about extracting information at this point during his style of interrogation. He asked an arbitrary question but didn’t give his prey a moment to answer correctly, hazing them with two extreme forms of torture, driving them hot and cold until he reduced them to nothing, and they gave away everything.

Your train of thoughts ran too long, another wet smack echoed against the walls followed by your broken mewls, tears dropping from the corner of your eyes. The others held their breath at the sight, held in a trance as your body helplessly tried to recoil away. You openly moaned now, head arched back as his fingers picked up the pace.

“That didn’t answer the question,” he snickers, the corner of his lip smirking viciously the more vocal you became.

“Yes!” you cry out, taking a chance on any fucking answer as you tried to contain the sounds spilling from you. He can’t realise you’re close, if he realises you’re close-

Your cunt throbbed against the cold air as he took his fingers away. Your poorly thought out plan worked against you; you answered the question, there was no reason to continue this part of his torture. Did you really think you could trick him? They all studied your every reaction every time you had sex, as if he wouldn’t know when you were close.

He chuckles as you groan desperately, the disappointment of not getting to cum making you want to bawl, and he had the audacity to laugh at your misfortune? Resentment and anger boiled under your skin, all of that, and he didn’t let you cum? The frustration had you more determined to win this game of his, more so out of spite.

He can see the resolve in your eyes, he was going to have so much fun breaking it bit by bit. Your eyes catch the prominent lining of his dick through his clothes as he moves away, almost as if he wanted you to see how hard you made him, your gaze unable to tear away at the sight, mouth watering. All your fuckable holes were empty and seven of your so-called lovers stood in abstinence while you writhed in need.

—

Jin had his cock standing tall in his moving hand, red tip leaking precum, heavy lidded eyes boring into yours so enticingly you could feel your throat swallowing criminally around nothing at the sight.

“Eyes on me heaven,” the body above your own quips deeply, voice vibrating against the skin he was currently worshipping with his mouth. His large hand slides up your neck, fingers pressed to the edge of your jaw, forcing you to look away from his hyung.

Hard kisses rise up your breast to your collar, tongue swirling the site before his teeth clamp down to punish your wavering attention.

“Tae!” You whine in shock, body pushing against his own at the pain but he only grins, moving an inch to suck on your skin determined to litter you with his marks. He’s not hurting you, not really, not in his mind. He would never hurt you. There was nothing wrong with leaving little love bites, they let everyone know who you belonged to, that was all. Anyone who dared to look at you would know, they’d see it, you were theirs. He hums in content at the thought, the sound so erotic to your ears.

Every time his teeth grazed your skin, every nip, every bite sent a jolt of pleasure down to your already aching core, you were so worked up, so on edge every touch was sending you into overdrive. You were losing coherency to need, your body took over, all it wanted was to be touched, more and more, and you were beginning to think you would give in to anything.

Every ear in the room strained to hear you pant, the tiny whimpers that you tried to hold back as your body became a canvas of red, the open air soothing the marks where Taehyung was busy creating more. His tongue never left your skin.

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to see what he’s doing, sighing in aggravation partly caused due to the erection in his pants. He hated seeing you hurt, but he couldn’t explain that deep satisfaction when it was one of them marking your beautiful body, when you hurt for them, when they were the ones to push your boundaries and limits. When you liked it. He would always chastise the others when they played too rough but even he could help the proud smirk in the mornings when you ached from the night before.

“I think that's enough,” he orders gruffly, side eyeing Hoseok who was letting Taehyung take things too far.

The younger male whines against you in protest, not yet done with his work of art, carrying on with more urgency. His movements become harsher, less calculated, making you squirm underneath him. Your clit is so close to his thigh, if you could just-

“Taehyung,” Hoseok’s command is calm, and though he hesitates he removes his lips from you, he follows his orders. Hooded eyes meet your own before they run down your body with a groan, he did so well, he did so fucking well. He wished the room had a mirror on the ceiling so you could see it too, the way he painted you.

He ruts into your hip, all self control lost the moment he saw his work coupled with your glazed eyes, mouth engulfing yours in a bruising kiss. You swallow his moans, relishing in the way finally the top of his thighs pressed against your clit as he moved against you. It wasn’t the ideal way to cum but you were so wound up you just needed to, you didn’t care how.

“So perfect,” he groans, mouth still attached to yours, fingers digging into your waist as he chases his own high, hopefully unaware you were reaching yours. “Our perfect little love.”

It was just a matter of who got there first, you desperately tried to lose yourself to it, begging your body for release before someone tore it away from you again.

“F-Fuck, ours, our baby, our love,” he possessively states, rutting against you faster as he spurs himself on, kissing down your cheek to your neck as he groans below your ear.

You bite your lip hard to stop yourself returning his moans, not wanting them to notice your own oncoming orgasm as you both raced to the finish line, but it wasn’t enough for you. His movements only seemed to tease you, stimulating you for only seconds at a time, you wanted to scream but they’d be on to you if you did.

“Ours,ours,oursoursours- fuck fuck fuck,” he loses himself, cumming in his pants with a shudder as he stills, resting his weight on you with a fucked out sigh. You close your eyes in disappointment at your second failed orgasm for the night, stopping yourself from crying out.

You only open them when you feel Taehyung detach himself from you, breathing heavily with a cheeky grin on his lips, a chaste kiss to yours before he releases a breathy laugh.

“Mine,” he whispers so the others don’t hear before addressing Hobi, “I told you I could do it hyung.”

“Well done,” Hoseok snickered loudly, walking into your field of vision with a smug look on his face. “She really believed she was going to cum that time.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up with their taunting, but when you do you send Taehyung a seething look for his betrayal.

“Fuck you Jung Hoseok,” your voice hoarse but the bite could be heard. He only laughs, pure twisted happiness stretching ear from ear.

“That’s exactly what you want, baby.”

You try to ignore the way your core was weeping but they could see it clear as day, the sight had Yoongi and Jungkook smirking, while Jimin and Jin watched with their tongues hanging out, ready for a lick.

“Look at the mess little love has made Jiminie,” Hoseok says as he approaches him, standing behind him with his hands on his shoulders. “Help her clean it up.”

He didn’t need it but he’s pushed toward you, stalking towards you desperately like a man starved. Hobi’s games were torture for everyone playing.

Normally he would take his time, he would kiss up our ankle to your thighs before devouring you, but he was so hungry he dived right in. You whined loudly as he ate you out, tugging on your restraints as you thrashed under him so hard that Yoongi wanted to hold your limbs down himself.

“Ji-min” you choke, hurtling towards your long awaited high so fast it was on your fingertips. “Ah, ah- NO!”

Like the snap of a band he sits up, your essence pouring down his chin a sinful sight.

“Fuuuck, no,” you cried, so done with this cruel punishment now.

“Sorry heaven,” he murmurs, licking his lips of your sweetness before kissing your thighs, waiting for you both to settle before he begins the journey again.

“No…” you try to wriggle away as he pecks your clit, overstimulated and sensitive to his touch. You can’t breathe, you can’t move, he peppers soft kisses all around your cunt, you’d find it romantic if you weren’t so spent. “I can’t, Jiminie I c-can’t.”

He licks a long stripe, circling your clit with his tongue as you try to catch your breath between moans. He makes out with your folds back to your hole, fucking you with his tongue, peering over your mound to watch you cry out for him.

It takes everything to detach himself from you again when he feels you clench around him, but Hobi’s instructions were clear: play with you, do whatever they want, but don’t let you cum, don’t fuck you.

“Please, please please,” you sniffle, painfully edged another time, eyes watering as your chest heaves. “Jiminie!”

His thumbs wipe away tears you didn’t realise had fallen, soothing you softly with a fond smile on his face.

“Shhh, don’t beg, beautiful,” he hums. “ I can barely hold myself back.”

He doesn’t wait long enough for you to come down this time, engulfing you again with a moan as you cry out again so shamelessly. Did you understand how beautiful this was to them? The sight of you spread helpless and needy for their attention, wanting them the way they always wanted you. Easy access to every part of you, moving only the way they wanted you to, their little doll, their little love.

Jimin moans into your cunt as he devours you, the constant edging rippling a scream from your throat as you begged to be pushed over this time. You almost believe this time you could, he brings you insanely close, closer than before, lost in his own lust induced trance, happily drowning in you before Hoseok pulls him out.

“Jimin!” His tone is sharp, the command makes the younger male tear away from you like a bandaid and you thrash against your restraints in frustration like a fish out of water. They all groan at the sight of your pussy pulsating with another orgasm out of reach, desperately and wordlessly begging to be filled.

“PLEASE!” You sound so deranged but you don’t even care at this point. You can’t even think straight, all you knew was you needed them and that was it, your brain’s based instincts kicked in, you were powerless, they were not, it was simple mathematics even your hazy mind could calculate.

“Please just let me cum please,” you openly sob, your cries filling the room but they only coo at the sight. You were so close this time, you could almost taste it and the journey back down was painful.

Your vision is so blurred with tears you don’t notice the change in presence above you, until you hear him groan. Jungkook can feel you throb against his dick as he leans against you, like your core had its own heart beat. He licks your tear stained face on one side, following the trail back to the source before kissing softly down your face. His hand finds your breast, kneading gently, taking his time with you at the cost of your sanity.

“Baby hates the lack of control,” he pouts against your lips sadly, eyes full of mirth and mocking. You did, every ounce of control was seized from you, it was why this punishment was so painful.

“K-ko-okie,” you were a blubbering mess, the more deranged depraved side of him found it so enticing he captured your crying lips in his own, smiling sadistically into the kiss as his hips rolled into your heat. This side of you was only for their eyes, this stripped fucked out needy part of you was theirs, only they could bring it out of you, only they could indulge in it. They wrapped you up in poignant perfection in front of everyone else, but this lewd sight was for their perversion.

“Look at our pillow princess,” he snickers, brushing your hair back affectionately as he parts from your lips with a pop. “Our crybaby.”

He grins happily, doe eyes full of love, a stark contrast to his lower half dry humping you. You’ve soaked through his clothes and he badly wants to disobey the rules and just fuck you. Just the tip, surely they wouldn’t mind the tip.

“She's so pretty when she cries,” Hoseok agrees with a chuckle. “But only when she’s crying for us.”

You don’t miss the hidden meaning behind his words even in your current state, whimpering from guilt at the accusation.

“That’s enough,” Namjoon finally announces since you all entered, his voice cutting through the lust-hazed room. Jungkook bites back his groan of protest, hips jittering to a still before moving away from you with a quick peck to your lips. Hoseok’s fun was over, it fulfilled its cause. At his command, they all stand still waiting for the head of their syndicate to take his turn.

“Joonie please,” you sob, unable to handle the way you were aching to cum, needing someone to touch you. You were so empty, the open air did nothing to comfort you.

His shadow falls over your form, his foreboding aura settling your tears as you look into the darkness of his eyes. His palm caresses your cheek, and you nuzzle into it wanting to melt his stone expression away.

“Have we tortured our love enough?” he asks, his tone empty, void of any inkling of his thoughts.

“Joonie please fuck me,” you beg, eyes closed as you focused on his touch like you were starving for it, even if it were just a hand to your face. You don’t know whether you want to kiss it or nip it with your teeth, just to get him to move, to do something with you. “Please fuck me, I can’t take it.”

“Are you going to tell us?”

You can hear the ultimatum whether he tried to hide it or not, your heart drums in panic, your body sobering.

“Joonie please!” You whimper, real tears rushing out of you as his stoic stature shows no sign of moving. The anxiety spirals into the brink of a breakdown, your mind running red alarm bells, almost forcing your confessions out of you. He always gives in to you in the end, when it came to sex, none of them ever refused to make you cum. They would elongate the edging, tie you up, play with you however they wanted, they would lie and deny that they would let you cum, but in the end they always gave in.

But the black vastness of Namjoon’s eyes told you otherwise, the rules had changed, you finally felt the gravity of the situation. His silence was terrifying you into believing he didn’t love you the same because of one stupid secret, that his displeasure with you ran so deep it changed the way he saw you.

“Joonie please let me cum,” you openly weep, pleading for him to prove you wrong.

The hand on your cheek holds onto your face firmer, his jaw tenses.

“One last chance little love,” he says in a low tone.

It’s on the tip of your tongue, pushing itself against your teeth, trying to barrel out of your mouth but you hold it back. He sighs as you sniffle, nodding in acceptance. The others hesitate when he orders them to leave with a look.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Your voice breaks their hearts as they walk away but Namjoon’s decision could never be questioned. The most powerful man in Seoul waits for you to meet his gaze, to see how serious he was about this. He doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse as you beg for them, as you cried for him to stop when he turned away.

“He judged our relationship!” You shriek through your tears, the confession washing a wave of agony over your chest as you wailed. You close your eyes in defeat, you didn’t want to tell them, but you just did.

All seven men freeze at your words, taking it in as it striked through their veins, igniting a terrifying fury in their hearts. Why did you care what he thought?

You can feel his presence over you again, the others close behind, opening your eyes to see his questioning gaze and the sinister rage that would not accept silence as an answer.

“I-I, He,” you bite your lip to control the way they trembled as he watched you shed tears for another man, no longer able to meet his stare. “I-I could see it in his eyes-”

You take a shaky breath, trying to get the words out.

“He realised I left b-because,” the look Suho gave you was burned to the back of your mind. “Because…”

“Because you love us,” Jimin finishes your sentence for you abruptly, eyes glowering with oncoming danger.

“Why does an insect's opinion matter so much to you, little love?” Jin spits, disgust running down his throat at his own question. What did he mean to you that his judgement had you crying like this?

“I-I looked up to him,” you confess weakly and it cements their jealousy. “He was my closest friend, but the look on his face it j-just- I, I realised-”

The more you spoke the more impatient they became with you, you were already paying too much attention to this insignificant ant from your past, he shouldn’t matter. You had all seven of them now, why would you give this idiot so much thought, enough thought that it had you questioning your relationship with them. Whether you wanted it or not, he would be in a body bag before the night ended.

“Spit it out Y/n,” Jungkook seethes, the use of your name with no audible ounce of love cutting you deeply.

You meet Namjoon’s unfaltering stare feeling the most vulnerable you had in your life.

“Am I a bad person for loving you?” You breathe, voice thick before you hiccup back tears. “Is loving you so wrong?”

Six of the seven hard glares on your form falter, only one remained.

“Because the look on his face said I was the most disgusting, v-vile..” your voice rose with every insult as if you were attacking yourself with them. “...evil piece of shit to ever exist.”

Namjoon hovers above you, a silent anger vibrating through his skin as he takes off his shirt. That bug made the most precious beautiful being on this revolting planet feel like this, and you believed him. They had drowned you in their love, whispering prayers on your skin of your perfection, worshipping every inch of you, and you never trusted a word of it. But this virus of man… you accepted everything he had to say with a look. Namjoon was going to make you both pay.

“You, little love?” He soothes you with his voice. “Never…”

He shakes his head, leaning on one arm as his other hand gips your chin harshly, fingers squeezing your cheeks until your mouth opened.

“But us,” there's a depraved gleam in his eyes as he smirked. “We are baby, we’re the scum of the Earth.”

You try to shake your head in denial to his statement but his hold on you was firm.

“And we tainted you.” He spits into your mouth to emphasise his point, letting out a breath of laughter when you swallow it without prompting, amused by the way your eyes dilated at his attention.

“Yorre-not” you try to speak despite the awkward position of your mouth, feeling the ache as he releases his grip to let you speak. “Not to me.”

“Little love, you’ve seen what we do,” he starts sternly. “Don’t deny what we are.”

“You do bad things,” you protest, wanting to reach out and touch him, but you’re still stuck in Hobi’s trap. “You’re not bad people.”

He chuckles humourlessly at your naivety as he unzips his pants, pulling them down to release his erection. His dick bounces against his abdomen, angry veins protruding on the underside as he lines it with your entrance. If you didn’t get it yet, he’d fuck it into you untl you did.

“I want you to love us for what we are,” he says as he enters you watching your back arch and jaw drop, your walls sucking him in.

I-I do,” you whine, head thrashed back on the pillow as he bottoms out.

“I want you to stop making excuses for our behaviour in that little head of yours, we’re monsters love, demons from hell, we won’t change.”

“You’re not.”

You shake your head in denial, a pleasant moan rumbling from your throat as you finally feel fucking full.

“Look at our love for you,” he says as he begins to move, encasing you in his arms, surrounding you in him. “Look at what we do for you, we’d kill for you, no good man behaves the way we do.”

He thrusts deep and hard, slowly fucking you stupid as you struggled to speak.

“No good man fucks like this, like they want to own you, possess you, trap you,” he grunts, smirking when you clench around him. You could deny it all you wanted, you loved this side of them. You loved being smothered in the affection only they could give you.

It felt so good, so euphoric you could die here happily, you were so spent you could barely manage to keep your eyes open. Your oncoming orgasm creeps up on you, he can see it in the little frown between your brows as you whimper and pant for him delicately, body tensing underneath his own.

“Do you deserve to cum love? He asks mockingly, laughing when you nod desperately in reply.

“Pl-ease,” it was the only word you managed to articulate, your head was fogged and given into exhaustion.

“You can cum little love,” he breathes against your lips, giving you permission but not without a cost. “But if you do, we’re going to go pay your friend a little visit, I’m going to make you sit on my lap while the others make him understand you’re ours.”

He gruffly releases a breath on your lips, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he works you both closer to release, picturing the scene.

“He’s going to watch me fuck your pretty little throat before he dies,” he moans at the debaucharous image his vindictive side imagined. “Until you both get it into your heads, you’re mine.”

Deep dark smug satisfaction was the last thing you saw in his eyes as you reach your high to his depraved lilt, mouth open silently screaming, cumming hard around him. The pleasure soon turns to overstimulation as pounded into you through the longest orgasm of your life, high pitched whimpers escaping you as it becomes too much, head spinning as you come down from nearly passing out.

“F-fuck you want that too love,” the gutteral thickness of his voice almost growls. “I know you do baby-I know.”

It doesn’t take long for him to follow, filling you with his cum as he impels himself as deep as he could reach, whispering praises of possession, pressing his lips to your skin. You can’t focus on his words, barely able to catch your breath with the fatigue settling into your bones. Your eyes close, drained and reeling. You think you’ll be fine in a moment, but you fall quickly into a dreamless sleep. Seven love sick sociopaths watching you.

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TAGLIST : @nlost21 @pb-n-juju @needyomnivore @lvpersona @marvelfamily3000 @love2lovesworld @halesandy @dreamamubarak @deepseavibez @mikymouse0729 @barnesrogerslover

☁︎ their little flower ☁︎

Yandere! Lo'ak! x Human! Stockholm Syndrome! Fem! Reader! x Yandere! Neyetem!

Warnings: Manipulation. Held captive. Brainwash. Care givers. Short. Not proof read.

synopsis : 'your our baby, we have to protect you. Out there is evil, filth, and horrible na'vi. You need us, my love.. our flower..'

"No, she needs to eat that first, not that." Neteyam explained to Lo'ak who hummed in reply. They entered their shaved cave like home that the Sully brothers did up specially for a special someone. They had just snuck some 'human food' from the labs and now were coming home to delivour and stay. "Flower, we're home!" Lo'ak called out, bit hearing no one they looked at eachother with concerned gazes.

The brothers put the food down and began frantically searching for their baby, until finally their eyes laid apon her. She stood just outside the back door of the cage, her hair tied back as reached up, collecting fruit from a tree growing in the back. "Syulang(flower)!" Neteyam sighed in relife and they both ran over, making the timy human squeak in reply as the boys leaned down and basically crush her between them, engulphing her in a hug. "Why are you out of the cave..?" Lo'ak asked her with a slightly irritated tone.

"I-In the book you got me from the la-labs.. said fruit is just right to p-pick around th-this time.. I thought maybe I could make us something.." she said softly, her small five fingered hand guestering to the basket full of fruit, and Neteyam couldn't help but smile. Their baby was adorable. "Well thank you, my love. That was very thoughtful." He said, then Lo'ak spoke, "However." He started and cupped her cheek to make her look up at him.

"You do not set foot out of that cave without me, or Neteyam. Understand?" He asked and Y/n nodded, "alright.. I'm sorry. But may I still use the fruit?" She asked and they nodded, "Of course, Tiny." With that the boys lead her inside with her basket, both feeling rage but didn't want to take it out on their sweet little secret. However, part of them knew that she would never leave... they knew her mind was clouded by lies and torment.  Their lies and torment.

As the males put away the food, Y/n felt her oxygen leaving her lungs, like they did every six hours. Neteyam and Lo'ak tricked the scientists to create a substance for humans to breath na'vi air for a certain amount of time, and kept getting new suplis of it every week. "Air.." she said, panting heavily as she leanton the cave wall. Neteyam rushed over, taking her jaw to make her look up, then forced her to drink the right amount.

She struggled for a moment in his arms, then finally she gasped, leaning into him and he rubbed her back. "It's ok, my dear.. I got you.. I got you.." he reassured as Lo'ak came over with a wood made cup of water. She gratefully took it in her small hands and lifted it to her lips, slowly drinking it. Their eyes alone basically devoured her, and she was so oblivious to it.

"Hey baby.. would you ever run away.. from us..?" Lo'ak asked her, kneeling down and cupping her cheek, treating her like he was asking a child is they took the last cookie. "Hm? N-no.. I belong here.." she said, and Neteyam came behind her, tilting her head up to look at him. "Good girl.. you are our precious.. right?" He asked as Lo'ak leaned forward, planting a kiss on her chest.

"Ye-yes of course.." she reassured him, her mind to boggled, too lost, to gone to realise their sweet, caring words were just extra bits of manipulation ti make her mind fall deeper and deeper into a illusion of lies. "Good.. because you are ours. Ours forever.." Lo'ak finished, biting down on her throat, making the girl gasp which was soon muffled by Neteyams lips on hers. "Our flower..".

hi ! I love your gen z driver series so much !!

i have a request that she and zhou show up to the padock in the same outfit unplanned

like i feel this would happen - they both fancy showing up in something so different and the other would be wearing the same thing !! <3 fashion icons think the same 😌

THE HELMET BET

pairings: zhou guanyu x driver!reader / f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: swearing. based on the 2022 grid. mention of sexism and racism. joke about doing an orgy.

author's note: idk if this is what you had in mind, but I had already written a small part of this fic and then your ask came in and I couldn't help myself. I love zhou so much, ugh thats my man fr. also, thank you for loving the series, it means a lot to me 💞

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''We're gonna get in trouble.'' Zhou said, shaking his head. 

Y/N frowned at his words. ''Why would we get in trouble? It's always super boring and our bet can at least spice it up a little.'' She reasoned, using a lot of hand gestures to show how serious she was. 

''You know those meetings are about our safety, right? We should take them serious.'' The Chinese driver didn't want to get in hot water with the stewards. 

''But this is a serious matter! We're putting an end to the debate,'' she retorted back, not seeing the harm in using the upcoming driver's briefing for their bet, ''lately, I've been seeing way too many people saying you've got better style than me and I've had enough of it.'' 

The female driver had seen the countless online discussions between fans regarding the most stylish driver on the grid, the winner usually switching between herself, Lewis and Zhou. In her opinion, Lewis had the best style, she didn't need to think twice about it. But it is important for her to know who his successor is, who is the number 2? 

To answer that question, she had come up with a brilliant idea: her and Zhou wear their best outfit to the next driver's briefing, not some team merchandising, and they get the other drivers to vote on which outfit is the best and therefore, which person has the best style. The person with the most votes gets to design a helmet for the loser and they have to wear it at the next racing weekend. 

''Okay, I'm in,'' Zhou admitted, shaking hands to commemorate the challenge, ''be prepared to lose, Y/N.'' 

''Don't worry about me, Guanyu.'' 

Y/N was confident in her win. The young woman knows she has style, her several brand deals with high-respected fashion houses being the proof of that. However, she knew not to underestimate her rookie friend, Zhou has had some killer outfits in the ongoing season. 

They had known each other for some years, but it was only this year that the pair had gotten close. Y/N broke the ice by complimenting one of his outfits at the start of the season and the rest was history. 

The outfit she had gone with was simple, but she looked good and she felt great in it. It was inspired by one of Michael Schumacher's paddock outfits (reference), knowing she would at least have Mick and Seb's vote with that one. 

Y/N got out of her car, ready to make her way to the F1 paddock and straight to the driver's briefing. In the corner of her eye she noticed Zhou's car pull up, his performance coach waving at her through the window. She reciprocated the action and decided to wait for him, thinking it would be nice for the two of them to enter together. She was curious as to what her friend would be wearing, secretly hoping he had fumbled the bag really hard. 

Her hopes came crashing down as Zhou got out of the car, observing the clothes he was wearing and noticing one clear detail. 

They were wearing the same outfit. 

Her eyes seemed ready to bulge out of her head, in complete disbelief. ''Are you fucking kidding me, Zhou?'' 

The Chinese man appeared to be much more amused by the situation, covering his laughter with his hand. ''You look very nice, Y/N.'' He giggled, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

''It's turned into a ''who wears it better'' challenge, what the heck.'' She commented, eyeing him up and down before glancing at her own fit. 

Zhou chuckled. ''Well either way, I'm winning.'' A small smirk appeared on his face, still sure of his win over his friend. Y/N simply scoffed, grabbing her pass from her purse and walking to the entrance. Zhou and his coach followed her steps, still entertained by her annoyance. 

As soon as the paddock reporters noticed the sight of the two drivers, their cameras were whipped out from their bags and they began taking candid shots of the pair. Zhou and Y/N played along for the cameras, pointing at each other's outfits and pretending to look annoyed. 

Eventually they made it to the right room, already seeing most of the drivers waiting inside. Zhou went in and greeted the others, while Y/N waited outside, ready to lock the door as soon as everyone had arrived and was inside. 

Lando had been the last one to walk down the hallway. ''Hurry up, Norris!'' She exclaimed, her hand motioning for him to pick up the pace. 

''Why? I'm on time.'' He replied a bit agitated, it was a bit too early in the morning for him to be scolded by his friend. 

Y/N didn't respond to him, simply pushing him into the room and locking the door, making several drivers look up from where they were sitting or standing. 

''Y/N, what are you doing?'' Sebastian spoke up, curious as to what she was up to this time. 

The young woman urged Zhou to get up from his seat and to stand next to her. The man felt a bit embarrassed, but followed her orders. Y/N stood in the place where their director normally sat when he answered the drivers' questions or listened to their concerns. She placed both her hands on the desk, looking like a teacher that was about to scold her students.

''As we all know, Mr. Hamilton over there is widely accepted as the driver with the best style,'' she pointed at Lewis, who nervously smiled as the other drivers glanced at him, ''but that's not why we are gathered here today! We are gathered here today to decide who his successor is. Who is the most stylish person after Lewis? That's a question that we will settle once and for all, here, now, in this room.'' She finished her monologue. 

''Me and Mr. Guanyu found ourselves in a battle for the title of second most stylish driver of the grid, so I challenged him. We would wear our best outfits today and have our lovely colleagues vote for who had the best one. But as you all can see, me and Mr. Dior over here, are wearing the same exact fit.'' Y/N waved her hand between herself and Zhou. 

''So, instead of you deciding who is wearing the best outfit, you'll be voting for the person you think is wearing the outfit best.'' She concluded. 

The crowd had mixed reactions: some looked confused, some seemed entertained by what Y/N had told them and others appeared to not care. 

Kevin was the first one to speak, getting up from his seat and walking towards the door. ''Y/N, this is not the time to do this, we're here to talk about the race.'' He was about to turn the lock when her voice stopped him. 

''Magnussen, you're being a party pooper- do you want to be a party pooper?'' She looked at him sternly, trying to convince him to sit back down and go along with her antics. ''Don't pretend like you're not secretly enjoying this.'' The Haas driver rolled his eyes, but defeatedly put his arms up and went back to his seat. 

''Alright, we'll go around the room and each person says either my name or Zhou's.'' She explained further, moving in front of the desk. 

Checo's hand went up in the air. ''Can we also pass?'' He asked, looking at Y/N. 

''If you refuse to choose, we will consider it sexist and racist as I am a woman and Zhou's Asian.'' She answered him, garnering chuckles around the room and a nervous-looking Zhou who hoped people took it as a joke, since he didn't want to be making enemies as a rookie. 

Y/N clapped her hands together. ''Okay, we'll start with our party pooper, KMag! Me or Zhou?'' 

''Zhou, since he didn't yell at me and didn't call me a party pooper.'' He chose, making the female driver narrow her eyes at him. ''Alright, 1 for Zhou.'' 

The person sat next to Kevin was his teammate, Mick. ''Schumacher!'' He was about to speak, but the woman interrupted him. ''Before you choose, I took inspiration from one of your dad's outfits.'' Y/N tried influencing his decision. 

''I was gonna choose you anyway.'' He told her, making her jump up as her and Zhou had an equal score. ''Thank you, Mickie.'' She smiled brightly at him. 

''Valtteri?'' 

''I choose Zhou, I'm loyal to my teammate.'' He answered, smiling at the man in question. 

''Lando?'' 

''Zhou, because he doesn't humiliate me in front of the entire internet.'' The McLaren driver said, referring to their regular back-and-forths on social media. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. ''You're such a crybaby, Rumplestiltskin.'' Her words caused Lando to give her the middle finger, but it was all in good fun. 

''Anyway, Daniel?'' 

The Australian pretended to think hard about his answer, looking in-between her and Zhou. ''I'm gonna go with Y/N, cause I'm kinda scared what she'll do to me if I don't choose her.'' His answer got a laugh out of the other drivers, some of them nodding their heads. 

Y/N herself couldn't help but break a smile at Daniel's words, happy her friend had chosen her. ''Okay, next one.'' 

The voting was nearing its end and there was a tie, 9 people had chosen Zhou and 9 others had voted for Y/N. It all came down to one person. 

Sir Lewis Hamilton. 

Despite some of the drivers' dislike for the bet at the beginning of the meeting, everyone had gotten pretty invested. ''The maestro himself has to choose his next prodigy.'' Daniel joked, looking at the 7x world champion. 

Lewis shifted in his seat, not too fond of having the last vote on the matter. ''Can't I just say both of you? The two of you look very good.'' 

''No, mate! You have to choose.'' George argued, the others agreeing with him. 

Y/N was quite sure that Lewis would choose her. She was much closer to him than Zhou and the pair had talked about fashion before, discussing how it was a great way to express yourself. She was already designing Zhou's helmet in her mind. 

''Well, then… I guess Zhou.'' 

Her mouth dropped open, shocked that the senior driver had chosen the rookie over her. She wasn't the only one that seemed surprised by his choice, Seb turned around in his seat and Pierre's eyes had widened, mouthing ''wow''. 

The young man next to her, lightly slapped her arm. ''I'll send the design to your team next week, Y/N.'' He teasingly laughed, a big smirk present on his face. 

''This is a joke, right? I can't be number 3!'' She dramatically stated. 

''Hey! What's wrong with being the number 3?'' Daniel looked up, feigning being offended by her words. 

She was about to give another monologue about betrayal and how men are all the same, but several loud knocks on the door interrupted that from happening. Y/N sighed, but took a few steps to turn the lock. 

Their director didn't look too happy. ''Why was the door locked?'' 

''We were having an orgy.'' She sarcastically answered him, not planning on explaining to him why she had blocked the door from opening. 

''Y/N!'' 

The actual driver's briefing began and soon enough most drivers were already dozing off, some of them even wishing Y/N and Zhou's bet had taken a bit longer. They wouldn't admit it to the young woman, but ever since she'd made her arrival to these briefings, her unserious antics had made them much more bearable. Some drivers had even started looking forward to the meetings, because the girl always had something up her sleeve. 

As soon as the last issue was resolved, the meeting ended and everyone was out the door. When Zhou saw Y/N talking with Mick and Esteban, he swiftly moved next to Lewis. ''Hey, man,'' he patted the Brit's shoulder, ''thanks for that, I really appreciate it.'' 

''No problem,'' Lewis smiled, ''we made a deal, I'm keeping my word.'' 

Zhou nodded. ''Yeah, you vote for me and I let you help me design her helmet.'' He recalled the promise they had made a day earlier. 

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

''Great! I was thinking we just collect all kinds of embarrassing pictures of her and plaster them all around her helmet…''

Thomas Shelby with a cry baby reader where he's just so mean and then she starts crying and goes all soft and shit. Like he's yelling at her for making a simple mistake on something and then she starts to cry and he's like no, no, darling in sorry please don't cry. So cute!!!

the song she's humming drifts through the halls of the shelby household, her echoing footsteps chasing the sound when she rounds the corner and into her husband's office. "tommy, i just got-"

"for fuck's sake, darling, can't you see that i'm busy with something? you've been making noise all mornin'. just let me fuckin' focus!" the tray in hand nearly clambers to the ground with the way her hands begin to tremble, her bottom lip quickly following suit. "i'm sorry.. i.. i just thought you might want. nevermind." she sniffs, turning her heel.

tommy sighs, rising from the desk with fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. "wait.. fuck, come here. come back in then, sweetheart."

she turns back around, albeit tentatively, placing the tray, which comprised of lunch and a beverage, down on the table nearby. "i didn't mean to make you mad," she sniffs, cleaning the snot that's threatening to spill from the bottom of her nose. "please don't be mad."

tommy stalks across the room, quickly drawing her into his chest, keeping a steady hand on the back of her head to keep her steady there. "no tears, no tears, darling. you're alright. everything is alright."

she blubbers into the expensive fabric of his waistcoat, hands flying up to rub away the tears that now stain her cheeks. "please don't be mad. you just looked hungry and i-"

tommy hums, coaxing a hand up and down her spine and smearing a kiss across her temple. "and i was a dick, eh? let's just sit down an' eat it together then, darling. c'mon, i'll let you sit on m'lap."

The Only Important Voice - Lewis Hamilton

Request from @saraghae7492974900173 - Can I ask Lewis who has a shy girlfriend and compliments her a lot but she almost never does it back because she's shy, so when she does it he's always a bit shocked?

Shy!reader

No part 2 requests please

"Can I wear this?" Y/n murmurs looking through Lewis' wardrobe. Never liking to ask, but always being too polite to just take it despite Lewis always telling her to just take anything she wants from his wardrobe.

"The blue one?" Lewis asks with a smile moving over and taking it off the hanger when she nods. He puts it on over her head and smiles as her head reappears through the head hole of the fluffy jumper. "It already looks better on you."

Y/n can't even hide her grin before he moves back and looks at the jumper that is maybe drowning her a little but he literally always wants this woman wearing his clothes, he loves seeing it more than anything else in the world.

"Ready to go?" Lewis asks making her shake her head quickly jogging to grab her shoes and her bag before smiling.

"Ready."

Y/n is certainly a woman of few words and actually Lewis doesn't feel the need to constantly talk, though he certainly has more confidence than y/n but he's happy to just have her there and when she does have her moments of higher confidence.

They're flying out to Barcelona ahead of the GP and y/n really wants to go to the beach later.

Since they're flying directly from Canada after the race weekend there. It's a long flight but with the time difference the beach will probably be a welcome warmth and reason to keep themselves awake to try and force themselves to adjust with it.

Y/n actually ends up using the flight as an opportunity to braid Lewis' hair since they unbraided it and did a deep wash and condition ahead of the flight.

She's one of few people that isn't technically a professional that he trusts to braid his hair without sort of just fucking it up.

"You can take a break if you need." Lewis states feeling her pause and looking back to see her flexing her hands.

"No, it's ok. I'm almost done." Y/n mumbles making him grab at her hand and kiss her knuckles gently.

"I owe you big time now." Lewis states earning a small nod and smile.

"Thank you." Y/n smiles a little bashful before she gets back to focusing on the task in hand.

Another hour later she's finished and smiles brightly as Lewis gets up and moves to look in the mirror at the final product. Not that he even needs visual confirmation that it was going to look great, that's why he trusts y/n so much. But he just likes seeing how creative she's got with it.

It's when he moves back to his seat that y/n gets up moving to the toilet to wash her hands of the gel before she sits down looking at the older man.

"You look so pretty."

Now Lewis gives y/n a million compliments a day, just because he wants to make sure she knows just how much he loves her and how much he is genuinely obsessed with her. But he compliments feel like cupid's arrow isn't just striking his heart, it's like cupid is using it as a pin cushion for all his arrows.

"I look pretty?" Lewis echoes making her get almost giddy before she leans forward kissing him in a spark of confidence, maybe or certainly is because of her tiredness.

"You look very pretty, Lewis...you always do." Y/n whispers then squeaking when Lewis lifts the armrest up from between them and pulls her into his lap.

"It's all your work. You made my hair look amazing." Lewis smiles kissing her softly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Y/n shrugs then leaning to rest her head on his shoulder.

There's a lot of moments (just about every moment that she's there with him) that Lewis realises how dull his life was without her, even if she is so quiet some people would assume her presence adds little to a room. But for Lewis, she is the centre of a room and actually he feels much more comfortable when she's there than when she's not. Sometimes he even feels a change in atmosphere before he realises she's in the room.

Everything fell into place with y/n.

And her compliments, while rare, he can't help but have the knowledge that she wants to say much more but it's in the moments she does speak up that she is completely overwhelmed by her admiration of him to the point she can't help herself from speaking her thoughts that usually remain so silent and kept to herself.

"I love you and you are so gorgeous." Lewis states with a grin making her gets as flustered as she always does.

"I love you too." Y/n murmurs before she sighs softly looking at his hand. "Do you think you could help me choose a tattoo? I love all of yours so much."

Another compliment?

"How tired are you feeling?" Lewis laughs a little making her almost whine at the fact that he is right but she can't sleep if she wants her body clock to adjust to European timezones again.