Soundless Somethings

thor x gn!reader [gow: r]

a request from lovely anon: Could I ask for some (GOW) Thor fluff? Perhaps the (GN) reader standing up for Thor when Odin is being a dick to him?? I just feel he hasn’t heard one good word about himself in a long time. I think he needs it. [thanks for the request! I feel so fluffy while writing this. I hope you and all of u will like it! enjoy.]

tags: fluff, gentle!thor, odin is a bad dad (f him), kissing, touching, lap sitting, hugging.

thor never know that he needed you.

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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

smoked out

fernando alonso & lance stroll

tags: smut/pwp, weed smoking/recreational drug use, threesome, age gap (25/26/43), montreal, cowgirl position, oral sex (fernando receiving), poor lance

a/n: this one goes out to the seven strollonso fans, i hope this is something! this has also made me really want to pick up a joint... also please remember to consume recreational drugs carefully! do not take something if you don't want to and make sure if you do you're with people you trust and will take care of you!! - this includes alcohol!

montreal, qc - january

the two of them knew it was wrong. any moment of any day there could be a drug test at their door. but it was the off-season, just after new years and you were more than happy to pick up a little big of grass for your boyfriend and his teammate.

except many thought that lance was your boyfriend and not the older and (no-so) wiser fernando. you were seated in front of the couch in front of the coffee table while you worked your magic under the careful gaze of your older lover.

"does this look good?" you looked over to fernando on the couch. he looked at the joint then at you. he rubbed the back of your head and you smiled up at him, "c'mon, speak to me, honey or else you're not getting any."

fernando replied, "oh, so you're going to give it all to lance?" he looked over at the other man on the loveseat, he had a beer in his hand and had been nursing it most of the evening. fernando turned back to you and leaned forward to be closer in your space. he kissed the top of your head and chuckled, "i think he'd die after one hit."

lance perked up and said, "i've smoked weed before!" his brown eyes wide at the accusation that he was new to this. it made you and fernando laugh. he felt his cheeks grow a little pink, "i mean... ya know, i have had it... once." that was a lie, it was a total lie. it was a party in high school and he pretended to smoke.

you snickered and looked up at fernando, "oh, we're gonna have so much fun with him tonight." and reached up to your lover with your free hand and gave him a pat on his cheek. you and fernando were seasoned, at the very least, fernando was a little more seasoned than you.

he told you all matters of stories from his early days in formula one. he chuckled once, "you think i had that facial hair while i was totally sober." and you on the other hand, were not an angel, despite fernando's nickname towards you. you went to cegep and then university. plus with the stuff now more legal than air, it wasn't hard to get your hands on it.

you eyed the joint before you got up and onto the couch. the rolling tray left behind on the table. you tucked yourself into fernando's shoulder and looked at him.

lance leaned forward in the loveseat and took a sip of his beer as he watched you light up. in the warm lighting of your apartment (where smoking was allowed) the canadian driver watched you take the first drag of the joint. you giggled a little as you exhaled the smoke into your lover's face. lance swallowed and admired you two.

you looked over to the other man while you handed fernando the joint and beckoned the other driver to come over, "oh my god, we're not gonna bite." and lance had never moved so quickly to his feet.

you were sandwiched between them as fernando had a smoke as casual as drinking win. he looked away from the two of you to exhale, he was polite. he took another drag before he handed it to lance.

lance took it nervously and you were much closer in his space. your arm draped around his shoulders as you giggled. you asked if he needed help and he nodded in response. your breasts pressed up against him as you coached him through a proper inhale.

"and don't hold it in your lungs, it doesn't make you anymore high. if anything it could burn them and cause more problems." then you made a pleased noise when he exhaled and coughed loudly.

lance wheezed and hit his chest as he coughed through the exhale. but you were right there, hand on his back. and then when he looked at you with glassy eyes, you only smiled and kissed him. fernando alonso's (problematically) younger girlfriend was kissing him. when lance opened his eyes to see fernando's response, the older man simply took the joint from him and laughed.

the other driver said, "be careful there, lancito. she can get a little handsy when she smokes." then took another drag, smirking around it.

you were still kissing lance once more. your hand slid up his dark t-shirt and you giggled against the kiss. soon you felt the weight of your lover up against your behind, with your front against his teammate. pressed between both men as you felt their erections up against you. the three of you kissed, smoked and felt up one another. with fernando even landing a long earned kiss on his teammates mouth.

you pulled away from a kiss with fernando and leaned back against lance. your throat felt dry and your head was full of marijuana high. but you didn't care, you loved the feeling of being between the two men. you chuckled as you asked, "i don't wanna mess up my couch. why don't we take this to bed?"

lance never thought he'd ever see you naked, not when you were stumbling over yourself as you dragged them both into the bedroom. your king sized bed (purchased by fernando) sat proudly up against the wall and before he could bat his eyes, you were struggling to get out of the slightly baggy aston martin shirt that you had been wearing. the visual of seeing you smoking a joint while wearing the teams t-shirt scratched an itch in lance's brain that he didn't think was there. didn't help that you were barely wearing anything underneath it. yoga shorts that basically showed your ass when you bent over.

before lance could go to the belt of his jeans, he looked at his teammate and fernando wasn't even looking at him. too engrossed in your state of undress. he caught lance looking at him and said, "you can sit and watch, or you can join. teammates share." then winked at the other man.

lance was often curious about the behind the scenes of formula one in earlier decades, but something in his head suggested that it was a lot of this. and by the sight of you, now fully undressed, he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

fernando palmed himself through his jeans for a moment as he watched lance get undressed. it was a cute sight, to see his little girlfriend and his teammate on the bed together. seemed like you didn't need the help of a little herb to get this comfortable. he directed his attention to lance and said, "say something nice about her, she might get the wrong idea."

you looked at lance and pushed some of your hair out of your hair. you smiled at him, the kind of smile that drew the other driver in. you felt the uptick in your heart when lance replied.

"i sometimes wonder how could an angel like her, end up with you, nando." he chuckled then worked the belt of his jeans. he was painfully hard. it wasn't just primal stimulation or the drugs. you were fucking hot. he looked at you further and added, "i'm sorry, man, but... she's quite the looker." then looked at his teammate, "do you have blackmail or something?"

fernando replied while you giggled, "keep talking like that and i'll send you home." his tone was tense in a way that excited you and lance. the two men stripped down and fernando was on the bed.

lance moved without thinking, following with whatever you and fernando wanted. the spanish driver was propped up against the headboard with lance on his back, his mouth close to his cock. and you swung one leg over lance's waist with both hands on his toned stomach.

you gave a knowing look to fernando before you giggled. and your lover winked at you before your expression turned tense for a moment as you sank down on lance's cock. it soon turned to an expression of bliss as you started to move your hips against the aston martin driver.

"you want to be good like her, right? then suck me off, lance." fernando cooed and it made excitement bubble up in the canadian driver. fernando shuddered when lance kissed his cock before he started to suck him off like he had done it (or rather dreamed it) a million times.

lance groaned with his teammate's cock in his mouth as you rode him. there was enough room on the bed for the three of you to fuck to your heart's content. his dark eyes closed as he enjoyed the feeling of giving and receiving pleasure. he had never done something exactly like this, but he was egged on by the noises you and fernando were making.

he liked this a lot.

you giggled before you rubbed your dry eyes, the high in your body was heightened by the feeling of pleasure in your blood, "he looks cute when he's giving head." you ranked your fingers down his chest as you worked his length.

the entire room felt the pleasure between the three of you, the bed rocked a little bit from the movements as you moved with a certain pace. mostly you set it with your movements which lance followed with sucking fernando's cock.

you trailed your nails down the canadian's chest and giggled as you looked to your lover, "quite the ride."

"quite the sucker too." fernando laughed. the three of you incredibly high from an evening of smoking. you knew your apartment would smell like weed for a little while longer. but none of your cared, you'll air it out eventually. it wouldn't be any worse than the smell of sex in your shared bedroom with fernando.

you leaned in to kiss fernando and placed a hand on his collarbone, "fuck, honey." it was quite a feeling kissing the man you loved while you also rode his teammate like a stallion. lance's cock felt good, rubbed up against all the right areas. you knew the pleasure would be tenfold thanks to the weed, but this was unexpected. you held onto fernando's chin while you placed a hand on lance's chest. you moaned into your lover's mouth while you fucked the other man perfectly.

lance continued to suck fernando's cock, which made the older man moan into your kiss as well, he panted heavily when you pulled away and took you by the hips to fuck lance faster. the bed really rocked with the three of you as pleasure coursed through your systems.

your head felt full of cotton in the best way possible. fluffy filling tainted with a sexual euphoria that made your skull throb. you loved this. you whined against fernando, "fuck. we should've done this ages ago."

"good things come to those who wait." your lover replied as he choked lance a little bit on his cock which only made his cock cock twitch inside of you, "i have a feeling he has done this before with other lovers."

you looked over and patted his flustered face, "wouldn't be surprised. too cute not to pass up." you giggled as you really worked yourself on his cock. you could feel the blooming pleasure and the heat in your blood. you couldn't help but giggle from the feeling of it, the high graced your brain with heightened feelings that only made you giggle as you rode him.

the two men were loving it as well. the three of you moved perfectly. in a way perfect for one another. you were perfect for fernando as his partner and fernando was good for lance as a teammate. and you and lance simply got along perfectly, often leaving fernando's unable to think of much else besides the two of you.

lance worked his mouth on fernando's cock and you worked lance's cock. you tongue grazed along lance's neck and he felt a shudder of want through him. he held onto you a little tighter and met your thrusts, he bounced you on his cock with a heated fever.

this little game wasn't going to last forever. you could feel the tension in your thighs from your movements. it was hard to ride for what felt like so long. but you were determined as you laid a single hickey on lance's chest, which almost made him finish right there and then.

fernando knew what you could be like in the bedroom. a little toublemaker. after all, he taught you all of his tricks. you could easily ruin any man. lance should be lucky that he was brought into the fold. fernando wouldn't let anyone touch what was his. he did have to admire that you looked pretty riding lance.

"fuck, lance. fernando." you groaned as you continued to ride them. your thighs ached in the best was possible and you felt a splash of euphoria over you. it wasn't much longer before lance came as you kissed his neck.

he kept his mouth on fernando's cock and continued to suck him off while he finished inside of you with a heavy groan. you came soon after, pleasure hit and you happily rode through your climax before fernando finished down lance's throat while he kissed you deeply. all three of you were spent. lance even coughed from the salty taste in his mouth.

"holy shit." you exhaled while fernando patted your cheek and kissed lance. you were soon laid in between them. your cheek pressed against fernando's shoulder with lance's arm around your bare middle. lance giggled a little and you giggled in return. you looked over to the canadian driver and asked, "what are you laughing at?"

"nothing. never though i'd give head to my driving idol."

fernando rubbed your cheek and replied to lance, "keep it up and it won't be the last time." his high was starting to fade, but you and lance were still quite high. he kissed you both on the head before he said, "let me get you two some water." but before he could slip out of bed, two pairs of hands pulled him back in.

he looked at you and lance, you both were grinning like fools. before he could say anything you tapped his lips and said, "oh you thought we were done here, nando? nu-uh." and the older driver realized that he was going to get the best head of his life. <3

pairing: lewis hamilton x Wolff!fem!reader

author’s note: GOD this might be awful but please keep in mind that it’s my first story :) WILL most probably go through major adjustments.

summary: in which her father, Toto Wolff, has always told her to stay away from the young drivers. He never said anything about the older ones though…

warnings: 18+ smut/nsfw, masturbation(f), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, age-gap, praise kink, bit of choking.

Being the daughter of a Formula 1 Team Principal never failed to be exciting.

Always VIP treatment, lots of traveling to beautiful countries, numerous job opportunities and getting to meet famous people. You were always grateful for your privileged life but never took advantage of it in a selfish way, although you enjoyed the things it had to offer from time to time. You always refused being treated differently just because of your status. You just weren’t that type of person. You liked working for the things you desired. Your adventurous side always loved a challenge, and that was also the thing your father admired and feared the most about you.

He always encouraged this side of you, ever since you were a kid. If you wanted to learn how to skate, he’d buy you a skateboard. If you spontaneously wanted to spend the next 3 months away from home in another country, he’d book your flight. One day you showed up at his office to show him your first tattoo. You always said you’d never get a tattoo, you didn’t think it would look good on you. But one day you randomly found yourself in front of a tattoo salon and couldn’t resist the curiosity. Your father was never a big fan of tattoos, but he laughed anyway, called you crazy and snapped a few pictures of the tattoo before sending them to your mom.

Toto didn’t have a lot of rules for you. He always told you “Just don’t get yourself in jail, maybe.”. But the most important and unwritten rule was “never involve yourself with the young drivers.”.

He thought they were immature boys and walking red flags, although he deeply respected them for performing in such a dangerous sport as Formula 1. You, on the other hand were never interested in any of them anyway. You befriended a few of the drivers, sometimes partied with them, but no one really caught your interest. No one besides Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis was your father’s most prized possession in the team. 7 times World Champion (or 8 if you ask me), a genuine person, an expert in what he was doing and the best he could get.

Lewis Hamilton emanated power everywhere he went. He always took his work and image very seriously, always told it as it was and his charming personality never failed to impress everyone in the room. Even the drivers looked up to him, hoping to one day be as great as him. Your first encounter with him was when you were only 15 years old, and to say that you were immediately intimidated by him was an understatement.

The nervousness you constantly felt when you were around him was originally a reaction to all the things you heard about the driver. But as time passed, you found yourself intimidated for others reasons. Maybe it was because you were a teenager and your hormones were going crazy, or because of all the books and fanfiction you used to read at that time, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him anymore. Everything about him drew you in. His tall and muscular body, his numerous tattoos that gave him a dangerous and playboy vibe, his soothing but rough voice adorned with the most beautiful british accent, his braided hair and smooth skin… That man was basically sex on legs. One of God’s finest pieces.

He instantly took a very protective role in your life. To him, you were basically a child, especially due to the big age-gap between you. But you were also his boss’s daughter so he naturally felt the need to protect you.

Now, at 23, you managed to keep a close friendship with the driver. He was always there if you needed advice for something, always there to rant to about your crazy life and always there for a good time. You spent a lot of vacations with him and his friends. Went to a lot of road trips, skateboard dates, dinner or breakfast dates, countless movie nights, sometimes just the two of you. And although your crush on him never went away, in fact the adoration and attraction only deepened, he not once tried anything with you. He always kept things friendly between you two, decent.

And it frustrated the shit out of you. Sometimes you would catch him staring at you, or even touching you for a minute longer, but never more than that. And you slowly began losing hope that one day he’d see you as more than a friend and his boss’s daughter.

————————————————————————

It’s Friday night. Since you didn’t have any plans for today and were bored out of your mind, you decided to call Lewis to ask if he would go out with you tonight. He apologized and told you that he wasn’t really feeling like doing anything crazy tonight, but insisted that you could come over and spend time together, maybe watch a movie or something. You accepted immediately.

So here you were now, 1AM in his living room, with your head on his lap and eyes closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep really, but your fucked up sleep schedule was beginning to take a toll on you, making you doze off at very random times. Plus, the way his hand was mindlessly running through your hair felt too good.

You slowly open your eyes when you feel Roscoe licking at your hand. With a groan, you try to sit up and take in everything that’s going on. How long have you been asleep for? “Suits” is still playing on the TV, the room is almost dark except for the light of the television, Roscoe is sitting by the couch, looking back at you with his tongue hanging out, and Lewis is on his phone, probably reading through his emails.

“Thought you’d never wake up.” He chuckled, locking his phone and throwing it on the couch.

“I’m so sorry, Lewis.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands in hope of getting rid of the sleepiness and the headache you just woke up with. “I didn’t mean to, lately I’ve been having trouble with sleep. Maybe it’s because of school, I don’t know. My schedule doesn’t really allow me a healthy bed time anymore.”

He looks worried as he reaches out to you, shaking your arm a little.

“You can sleep here if you want. It’s late, you’re obviously very tired. I don’t want you driving back home in this state.” He proposes.

“Yeah? I can?” You chuckle, placing your hand on his. Your stomach flutters when you feel his soft, warm skin.

He looks rather angelic in the low light. His eyes are shiny but tired, his lips look soft and juicy, and his body is comfortably spread on the sofa.

“You know you can, bunny.”

Bunny. He loves to call you that. Ever since you were a teenager, he’d always call you that. You found it cute.

“Okay, then. Can I borrow some clothes, though? These jeans aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world to be honest.” You say, getting up from the couch.

“Yeah, sure.”

You follow him to the guest room. The bed looks cozier than ever, and you quickly find yourself hopping into it, groaning at the feeling of the comfortable and soft mattress. Lewis laughs and leaves you for a moment, but comes back a few seconds later, throwing some clothes on the bed beside you.

“Got you a shirt and some pants. But I’m not sure the pants are gonna fit though. You’re… a lot smaller than me for sure.” He spoke, crossing his arms to his chest. “Sorry.”

“No, Lewis. It’s all good.” You giggle, waving your arm lazily. “Thank you.”

You take a moment to look at him again. He has a soft smile on his face and his body is leaning against the door frame, the dim light in the room accentuating the muscles in his arms. He looked huge. And delicious.

Jesus.

“Good night.” He gently whispered. You say it back and then he finally leaves the room, leaving you all alone. And frustrated.

With a deep sigh, you grab the clothes he gave you and inspect them a little. A simple tie dye t-shirt(he loves these), and a pair of shorts, probably the smalest he had in his wardrobe. And they still looked big. Making a decision, you throw the pants on a chair and only keep the t-shirt, then start to change out of your clothes.

Once that was done, you floop back on the bed and check your phone real quick, before turning off the lights and pulling the blanket over your body.

————————————————————————-

You woke up sweaty. With a groan, you quickly pull the covers off your hot body to try and get some air. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the massive headache you just woke up with already makes you irritated.

Stretching your body a little, you reach for the phone sitting on the nightstand to check the time. 4AM.

“God dammit.” You curse under your breath, rubbing your face with your palm.

You could feel the faint smell of Lewis’s cologne on the t-shirt he gave you. Le Labo’s Rose 31, his favorite. Biting your lip, you bring the material to your nose and inhale the scent. A moan almost escaped you. You could basically feel him, it was like he was in the room with you again. And that definitely didn’t help your current state.

You start wondering what he might be doing right now. He’s probably sound asleep, spread on his king sized bed with nothing but his boxers on, quietly snoring, like he always does. You wish you were there to see him. Admire him. Touch his skin.

Subconsciously, you let your hand travel down your chest and under the shirt, touching at your hot skin. A shiver hits you, and you curiously start to feel around your stomach with your fingers. With eyes closed, you imagine Lewis touching you like that.

It wasn’t unusual for you to think about him like that. But in your defense, you just couldn’t help it. Everything about him felt masculine. His energy, his body, his voice, his gestures. He was basically the man you always dreamed of having, even for one night. You always wondered what he would be like in bed.

Maybe he’d whisper softly in your ear, call you “sweetheart”, take his time on making you feel good, praising you for how good you are for him. How good you take him. Or maybe, he’d manhandle you, make you do whatever he asks, put you in any position he wants while choking you with his big arms and mockingly slapping your face, degrading you for being such a whore, as his cock would slide in and out of you at an abusive pace, making your juices drip out of you with every deep, harsh thrust.

You don’t even remember the exact moment your fingers started rubbing your clit through your panties. You were definitely soaked, the wetness making a faint noise everytime your middle finger would flick at your pussy down to your enterance. A needy whimper escapes you. You needed more.

With the other hand, you quickly grab at your boobs, softly massaging them one by one and pulling on your sensitive nipples. It was all too much but still not enough. The material of your panties was drenched at this point, so you quickly moved them aside.

Circling your awaiting hole a few times, you insert a finger inside slowly.

“Mm, fuck.” You moan, hiding your face into the pillow so you could hopefully hide the sounds you were making.

You imagined Lewis doing this to you. Sitting between your thighs so he can have a clear image of your creamy pussy as he is pumping his fingers in and out of you. He’d have his mouth on you from time to time, sucking your clit harshly and moving his tongue from one hole to the other. His deep brown eyes would never leave your figure, trying to take in every single inch of you and memorize it, so he can always remember how desperate and ruined he makes you.

“Such a pretty pussy. U’re doing so good for me.” He’d praise.

The squelching sound of your cunt momentarily takes you off the trance. Your hand is wet and you’re working one more finger inside of you now, as your other hand desperately rubs at your sensitive button. You can’t believe you’re doing this in Lewis’s house, especially when his room is so close to yours, but you shamelessly don’t care enough about that right now, not when you’re so close to your orgasm.

“Mphh, Lewis…” You cry out, eyes shut.

As your back arches off the mattress, you start scissoring the fingers inside your pussy faster. You gasp for air as your legs begin to shake violently, your swollen clit throbbing uncontrollably. You moan louder than expected as you come all over your fingers, and the thought of Lewis hearing your needy sounds almost excites you more.

After a few moments, you remove the fingers from your pussy. You needed a shower so bad, maybe it would wash away the shame you were feeling at the pit of your stomach. Were you too loud? Did he hear how pathetic you’ve been, just from his scent and a few scenarios of him fucking you with his mouth and fingers?

Sitting up, you scrunch your face in disgust at the feeling of your drenched and cold underwear. You curse in your head for not taking them off early on. What the fuck were you supposed to wear now?

Deciding to swallow your shame, you finally get up from the bed to make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your room. After washing your hands twice with the expensive soap bar, you look into the mirror to see just how messy you really were. Your cheeks were flushed, your mascara was smudged, skin was glowy with sweat and your hair looked like a bird nest. Basically, it was as if you had just taken part in a gangbang.

With a sigh, you take off your panties and run them through the water, trying to wash away the sin you had just committed. Getting lost in thoughts, your stomach almost startles you as it begins to growl loudly. The little amount of energy you had left and now you felt hungry, and incredibly thirsty. Balancing your options, you wonder if you should leave the room to go get something to eat from the kitchen. Your panties were still wet and you couldn’t imagine wearing them now, but you knew you’d never be able to fall asleep again if your stomach constantly demanded food. Plus, drinking tap water was never an option.

“Fuck.”

Slipping your underwear back on, you inspect yourself in the mirror a little and pull on Lewis’s t-shirt, making sure that it covers enough, just in case.

The whole penthouse is silent as you walk to the kitchen. A few lights are still on, but that’s just how Lewis prefers it. You assume Roscoe is in his room fast asleep as well, because you don’t run into him on your way. Opening the fridge, you immediately grab a bottle of water and place it on the counter, before scanning for some food. The indian takeout boxes were really calling your name right now, so you grabbed two of them before closing the door with your foot.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You almost drop the boxes from your hands when you hear his voice. Turning around, you find him staring at you, with a little smirk on his face.

“You almost shit your pants, bunny. Did I scare you?” He laughs, approaching you.

“Jesus, Hamilton. Almost gave me a heart attack, could’ve died right here on your kitchen floor.” You exhaled, dropping the boxes on the table and placing a hand on your chest, trying to see if your heart was still beating.

“I’m sorry. Won’t do it again.” He chuckles and briefly massages your shoulders, before pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. After he takes a few sips, he speaks again. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You bite back, drinking from your own water, almost gulping down the whole thing.

The thought of what you just did a few moments ago creeps into your head again, and you suddenly wish the ground would swallow you. What if he heard? You get self conscious remembering that you’re only wearing his shirt and your destroyed pair of panties that were still wet and uncomfortable, so you pull on the hem to hopefully try and cover yourself as much as possible.

His top lip twitches for a second, then he smiles and shrugs. “Was thirsty.”

He looked absolutely delicious now, with nothing on but a pair of grey shorts and his braids down. His abs were shining underneath the dim lights, and all you wanted right now really was to drop down on your knees and lick them. You couldn’t look further down though, you feared you might pass out if you saw the imprint of his dick in his pants.

You had the opportunity to take a peek, though. Multiple times. Especially on race weekends, when he would just grab his dick in his hand and struggle to readjust himself through the racing suit before hopping in the car. You knew he was big. You fantasized about how he would feel on your tongue, heavy and large. About how he would fuck your throat rough, making you choke on his cock. About how he would hardly be able to slide into your tight, warm pussy, but when he would finally make it, he’d rip you apart with it until you were left a crying, overstimulated mess.

“Why are you so red, bunny? Are you ill?” He asks, furrowing his brows.

When you finally snap out of your filthy thoughts, he’s already in front of you, checking your temperature with the back of his hand, looking concerned.

“N-no.” You almost sound unsure, your voice cracking a little.

“No?” He shakes his head, cupping your flushed cheeks in his hands.

You couldn’t make eye contact with him, even though you knew he was intently watching you. He was so close that there was almost no space to breathe anymore, and you couldn’t take it, so you hesitantly backed off.

A cheeky smirk was plastered on his face though, and he quickly looked you up and down before grabbing a fork and digging into the food left on the table. You just stood there, petrified. No thoughts behind your eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He spoke again.

Well, the hunger disappeared, that’s for sure.

You shake your head then clear your throat. “Not hungry anymore. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”

“Hm.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you grab the bottle of water and make your way past him, whispering a “good night” softly. After a few seconds, he speaks again.

“Maybe this time you’ll be able to get some sleep instead of moaning my name while you’re touching yourself.”

Your stomach drops. Maybe you’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve gone crazy. But there’s no way this was happening right now. This can’t be real.

You’re stuck in your place for a few moments, calculating your possibilities of escape. Throwing yourself out the window sounds like a good idea now. But you feel cornered, and you can’t think of what to do or say. You were doomed, for sure. But you choose to play dumb instead, so you anxiously turn to him and speak.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been asleep the whole time.”

He says nothing, and that worries you even more.

Then he throws the fork in the sink and finally faces you. He lifts his eyebrows and leans on the counter, with his arms folded to his chest.

“No, you weren’t.” He spoke. “Come here.” He gestures with his hand.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you decide to listen to him and get closer.

“Please don’t tell dad.” You beg. There was no point in denying anymore. He knew.

He chuckles then, and furrows his brows, looking at you funny. God, you just wish all this would be over already. It felt humiliating.

“You think I’d tell Toto about how his daughter is pleasuring herself to the thought of me?”

His words come out as a whisper as he carefully moves a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know…”

“What were you thinking about?”

You finally get the courage to look into his eyes then. You’re not sure you heard him right.

“What?”

“I think you heard me just right, princess. What were you thinking about when you had these pretty fingers deep inside your pussy?” He asks, lifting your hand and pressing a few kisses to your fingers.

A whine almost escapes your mouth while you’re watching it happen. You’ve never heard Lewis talk like that, especially towards you, and it both sexually frustrated you as well as made you impossibly shy. A deep shade of red is present on your face and you seriously don’t know if you should just risk it all and tell him about your little fantasies or act dumb about it.

“Y/n”

You snap out of it. “I-I don’t know what to say, Lewis. This is so humiliating.” You sigh deeply, covering your face with your hands.

“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, pulling you into his arms. He smelled so good, and his skin felt hot pressed against yours, even with the t-shirt you were wearing as a barrier. “No need for that, bunny. It’s just me.” His words come out as a whisper as he is moving his hand up and down your back. “…Just us.”

Lifting your head slowly, you look into his eyes and bite your lip. This was all you ever wanted. For him to want you back. And now that he finally hinted that he might be into you in that way, had you at a loss of words and action.

Fuck it, you thought. It’s been too long. Too much time spent on secretive glances, crushing, overthinking, masturbating to the thought of him. Maybe you could finally get something out if it.

“I was thinking of you… Touching me.”

“Good girl. How was I touching you, hm?” The praise goes straight to your core as his head falls to your neck to press a few wet kisses, and you swore you could die right there on the spot. His hands squeeze your waist a little before traveling down to your ass, massaging patiently, waiting for you to respond to his question.

You moan at the action, getting lost in the feeling of him touching you like that. In a second, he lifts you up by your thighs and you unconsciously wrap your legs around his waist. He sits you on the counter then positions himself between your bare legs. His warm hands touch the insides of your thighs, making your breath hitch. You still can’t believe this is happening.

“You look so good in my clothes…” He mumbles, lifting one of his hands to your shirt and squeezing your skin a little. When he reaches your breasts, he squeezes harder.

“Mm… Lewis…” You whine pathetically, waiting for more.

“That’s what you were moaning a few minutes ago, baby?”

You look up to find him staring at you intently with his teeth pulling at his lower lip. His eyes were darker, full of lust. You enjoy having him like this, you realized. A man, the man you dreamed about, about to pleasure you.

“Yes.” You confess sincerely, batting your eyelashes at him.

“You’re such a naughty girl…” He whispers, touching your soft cheek with his finger.

His other hand starts wondering further underneath your shirt, and you find yourself opening your legs wider, waiting desperately for his touch. You can feel one of his fingers pressing against your clit only a few seconds later, and you can’t help but moan already. He rubs tight, circular circles on your sensitive button and groans, pushing your body back. You lean back and let him lift your legs on the counter.

“Shit, bunny. You look so delicious right now."

He reaches the band of your underwear and pulls on it urgently, leaving you bare in front of him. Normally you'd get self conscious everytime a man saw you naked, but for some reason that wasn't the case now. The desire to have Lewis eat you out was much bigger than any insecurity you may have. You grow impatient already just thinking about it and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing. He notices.

“I’m going to eat this pretty pussy.”

“Please.” You say immediately, eager to feel his tongue on your most sensitive spot.

He pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and gets on his knees, holding onto your shaky legs. You played this scenario in your head over and over again so many times, and you craved to see it finally happen. You really need to see him.

Standing up a little, you think you might just pass out. There he was, propped between your legs, licking a fat stripe of your pussy. He makes eye contact then and moans, connecting his lips to your puffy clit and sucking, hard.

Your body twitches on instinct and you whimper, pushing your needy pussy into his face. He moans and starts licking up and down your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you from time to time.

“Yes… Just like that.” You manage to say.

He’s hungrily lapping at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten in days, collecting all your sweet essence with his eager mouth. You can’t help but yelp a little when you feel two of his thick, long fingers pushing inside your tight pussy. It stings a little, but he doesn’t let you adjust, instead he pushes them deeper and curls them, making your eyes roll and your jaw drop.

“Oh my god." You gasp, arching your back so hard that you think it might break in half. His mouth is still attached to your sensitive clit, pressing torturous licks on it.

He pulls away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers push in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were glued to your pussy, like he was hypnotized by the sight. And he was. Suddenly, his eyes snap to yours and you think you’d never seen something hotter in your entire life.

“Look at you, baby… Hear the sounds your pretty pussy is making for me? You’re so fucking wet.” He humms and gives your puffy clit a sharp slap, fucking his fingers faster inside you.

You scream his name, like you always dreamed of doing. You’re desperately trying to hump his hand to get more, already feeling the familiar tightness in your lower stomach building rapidly. He doesn’t like that, so he quickly pushes your hips down with his free hand, keeping you in place. You don’t get to protest, because then he curls his fingers right on your g-spot, having your body tense immediately. You’re almost breathless and trashing your tiny body on his counter, and when he gets his hand on you and starts to flick your clit with rapid movements, you know you’re done for.

“That’s it. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”

You don’t hear anything for a few seconds after that. Your ears are tingling, your toes are curling and your whole body is shaking violently. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers.

While you’re busy trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t stop. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, a bit slower now, and he reattached his mouth to your pussy, licking it slowly.

Feeling overstimulated, you immediately jerk away from his touch, twitching uncontrollably.

“N-no… too much!” You whimper, pushing his head back.

“Mm.” He slowly removes his fingers, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing. He’s chasing a trail of cum that your pussy is pushing out with his tongue and moans. “Such a sweet pussy. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He praises.

You don’t say anything. Mostly because you can’t. Your whole body feels like jelly, still shaky from the powerful orgasm you just had. But you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. No, he gets up and grabs your chin forcefully, smashing your lips together. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes your head spin and your pussy leak. Again.

When he finally pulls away, he takes a moment to look at your fucked out expression and humms, licking his lip.

“Was it good, bunny?” A smirk creeps out on his face.

“Yes…” You reply, the shyness taking place in you again as you batt your eyelashes at him.

“Good…” He whispers softly, tugging slowly on your bottom lip. “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

God, the things this man makes you feel. He just fucked you stupid with his mouth and fingers and now he wants to fuck your pussy? It had to be a dream.

You want to take advantage of this moment for as long as you can.

“Fuck me, Lewis. I want it.”

The way you just look up at him so innocently but so seductive at the same time, with lips swollen, slightly messy hair and smudged mascara, makes his dick twitch. It isn’t the first time he’s rock hard for you though. No. You never knew this, but he had his eyes on you too. For the past few months, at race weekend, everytime he’d see you, you’d have him losing his mind. Walking around in short skirts and crop tops, or those lovely sundresses you adore so much. It made his dick throb, and he had to make up some excuses a few times just to run back to his driver’s room and touch himself. But he wasn’t only attracted to you because of those things. Your energy captivated him completely, and he knew he wasn’t the only one dreaming about having you. He wasn’t blind, nor stupid. He saw the way the other younger drivers or random people in the pit crew looked at you. How they smiled at you or tried to make you laugh, subtly touching you. It made him feral.

Toto was his boss. They go way back. Lewis admired your father, in many ways, and the bond they formed through working together was tight, for sure. He knew about the stupid rule he had for you, about dating or messing around with the drivers, and he respected that. Up until recently, when he started looking at you in a different light, and the rule suddenly frustrated him deeply. He never had a problem staying away from you. The need to protect you was the only thing on his mind. Then he started to finally see you.

How smart you were, how much joy you bring when you walk into a room. How everyone stops to look or listen to you when you talk. How adventurous you are and openly emotional without a care about what other people might think of you. The way you’re always there for people, the warmth you possess. Your unintentional seductiveness. Your charm.

Now, he had you exactly where he wanted. He wasn’t sure at first if he should tell you that he heard your sweet sounds when you masturbated to the thought of him, but he became desperate. All he needed was confirmation that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you. And he got it. He wasn’t gonna let you slip away this time. And he was done thinking about how complicated the situation is with your father.

Grabbing at your hand, he helps you get off the counter. You look at him confused, scared that he might realize that everything was a mistake and he’d changed his mind. But the thought quickly vanishes when he starts kissing your neck and nipping at your skin, lifting your shirt with his hands.

“I’m not gonna fuck you in a kitchen. My sweet baby deserves a bed, no?” His raspy voice sends goosebumps on your skin and you nod, letting him walk you backwards to his room, as he finally manages to get rid of the only material left on your body.

When you get to his room, he carefully pushes you on the bed, with him on top. The cold air in the room hits your sensitive flesh and makes your nipples harden. Licking your lips, you raise your head from the soft pillow to look at him. His gaze is darkened and his bottom lip sits between his teeth, pulling at it desperately, like he was trying so hard to keep his control. You wanted him to lose it. All of it.

“Please, Lewis… Fuck me. Wanted this for so long.” A whine escapes your lips and you pout, caging his body between your legs as your legs wrap tightly around his torso.

Your confession made him groan. He wanted to keep this moment in his memory forever. How needy you are begging for him to fuck you, how pretty you looked all spread out on his bed, with your hair tousled on his pillow, your lips puffy from his kisses and your eyes glossy and dazed.

Finally, he gets rid of the shorts he was wearing, pulling them off along with his boxers. You're left speechless as you shamelessly stare at his very erect cock. It's thick and you can spot a few angry veins almost popping, running up towards the head. It's standing proud and tall glued to his pelvis, almost reaching his belly button, and it has your mouth water.

He notices how you stare at him with your cheeks flushed and your lip between your teeth and smirks, tapping your thigh a few times to get your attention.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"It's so big..."

"Yeah? Never had a real man before, princess?" He asks, raising your leg to his shoulder and pressing soft kisses on your soft skin while maintaining eye contact with you.

You shake your head timidly.

"Gonna make you feel so good. You trust me?"

"Yes." You respond immediately, squirming under him.

"Just hold on for a sec. I gotta have some condoms in here." He lets go of your leg and leans towards his nightstand to search for the condoms.

"W-wait." You stopped him, pressing a hand to his chest. You were anxious when your next words left your lips. "I... I'm clean, and on birth control, so if you want, there's no need for that."

He turned his head to look at you and stopped in his tracks.

"Want me to fuck you bare, bunny?" He reached a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you lovingly, with a grin on his face.

"Mhm." You mumbled, nodding your head. "If that's okay with you, of course!" You rushed the words out.

"I'm more than okay with that." He hummed, caressing your hip with his thumb. "Come 'ere."

He pulled you lower on the bed and leaned forward, gripping your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours. He kisses you slow at first, taking his time to taste you. Then, as his hands start to explore your naked body, it turns wild. You feel dizzy as you wrap your hands around his neck to bring him even closer and your hot bodies stick to each other. It feels so intimate, you've never experienced something like this with someone before. His erection is standing right between your legs and it makes you raise your hips eagerly. You want him inside already.

"So eager." He whispers and smirks, pulling away a bit.

You glance down and lick your lips as he lines himself up, watching him tap your clit a few times with his cock, then pushing his head through your sensitive folds to collect all your juices. It sends jolts of electricity through your body and you whimper, spreading yourself a bit more. When he finally slides in, it's so overwhelming that you let your mouth hang open with a loud moan. The stretch is stinging a lot, but there's another sensation that comes with it that makes it so pleasurable at the same time.

Lewis watches you carefully and stills his movements, to let you adjust to his size. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to relax as much as you can to accomodate your thight walls around him. Once you feel the pain diminuate a bit you nod your head, letting him know that he can move further.

He slips in a little more then and lets himself moan at the heavenly feeling of your bare, tight pussy squeezing him tightly.

"Doing sooo good, baby. Taking me like a pro." He praises, moving your damp hair out of your face.

He bottoms out inside you and you whimper. He's so deep that you could swear you felt it in your stomach, but you want more.

As if he could read your mind, he slowly pulls out a bit then pushes himself inside again, making you let out tiny mewls and moans as you got to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. Lewis humms and buries his face in your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses all over it before going down to your breasts and taking one of them in his mouth and swirling his tongue around your hard, sensitive nipple. He starts to thrust his hips in a steady rhythm while taking your other breast in his mouth and all you can do is arch your back and whine, overwhelmed by the intense feeling.

"So fucking tight." He hissed, leaning back to grab your thighs and lift them on his shoulders, the new position allowing him to hit your spot better. You felt so full of him, and you were ready to cry from the pleasure.

"Lewis." You let out a loud moan and touch his abs, scratching them as he suddenly surprises you with a rougher pace that makes you roll your eyes back and let out a cry.

“Shit.” He curses, groaning when he feels your pussy clench around his fat cock. “Thought about fucking this pretty pussy every single day lately. And now look at you, all fucked out on my bed.”

His words make your head spin. You had no idea he thought about this just like you did, so many times.

“Y-you thought about me?” You manage to ask between moans, looking down for a second to catch a glimpse of his dick sliding in and out of you at a fast pace.

He went in for a messy kiss then pulled back a little, looking at you with half closed eyes. “You have no idea.” He mutters, grabbing your neck softly.

The sounds in the room are intoxicating. It’s filled with heavy breaths, moans, skin slapping repeatedly and the filthy sound of your impossibly wet pussy getting filled to the brim by Lewis. Your gaze is locked with his and it feels like there’s just the two of you left in this world. Nothing matters anymore. Not your dad, not your age gap, nothing. It’s so intense and intimate that it almost has your heart burst out of your chest.

Your thighs are trembling as he folds them to your chest, and your hands are frantically searching for something to grip onto, while incoherent sounds are dripping off your lips.

“You wanna cum, princess?” He asks, smirking down at you.

“Yes! Yes, please please don’t stop.” You beg, shaking your head as short screams leave your mouth.

He’s quick to drag a hand down to your pussy and starts rubbing your clit harshly with his thumb to force your release. The added pleasure makes you pulsate rapidly around his cock and you find yourself arching your back off the mattress again, struggling to breathe as your orgasm is nearing quickly.

“Come on, want you to make a mess on this cock, baby. Can you do that for me?”

You nod your head pathetically and yelp when he pinches your swollen clit, letting out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. It hits you so quickly and so violently that it makes your breath get stuck and your eyes squeeze shut while your legs are uncontrollably shaking. Your juices are dripping down Lewis’s cock and onto the mattress underneath you, and it’s a sight to die for as he watches it all happen.

“Good girl. Did so good f’ me.” He coos, but doesn’t stop the movements of his hips, although he slows down a bit to let you come down from your orgasm.

When you open your eyes to look at him, you find him already looking at you, with an enamored expression on his face. His hand is softly caressing your thigh while he is admiring the post-orgasmic glow of your skin.

Soon enough, he is picking up his pace again and you whine in discomfort and overstimulation, furrowing your brows.

“Can’t. Please. Can’t.” You squirm underneath him.

“You can, baby. Come on, just a little bit more.”

Using his arms, he spreads your legs wider so he can have more access to you. His thrusts quicken again and his fingers attaches themselves to your clit again, pressing into it in circular motions. You were squeezing him so tightly that he could barely move inside you but he pulled through, ramming his hips into yours with brutal force, trying to chase his own release.

“Oh.” You gasped and glued your eyes down to where your cunt was greedily sucking him in. Your milky essence is visible at the base of his cock and the sight is downright filthy.

“Fuck.” He grunts, also watching where you two are connected before he lunges towards you and grips your neck more tightly and yanks you forward a bit. You prop up on your elbows and look at him with wide, doe eyes, moaning uncontrollably. “Where do you want it, bunny?”

“Inside!” You respond immediately, placing one of your hands around his wrist. “Want you to come inside me. Please.”

Your eagerness to take his cum inside your tiny walls makes him shiver with enthusiasm. His tip hits your g-spot with every powerful snap of his hips and it made you part your lips in bliss. Lewis takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you messily. You suddenly start to feel a different kind of pressure at the pits of your stomach and you wince, pulling back from the kiss.

“Lewis… I think there’s something wrong. Feels different.” You slurred, your eyes widening in fear.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here. Give me one more, yeah?” He grunted, flicking at your clit with his palm rapidly.

The bed is moving with the rhythm of his aggressive thrusts and you feel your muscles contract and twitch with every move. You’re fluttering around him desperately as you scratch down his back with your polished nails and he moans deeply.

“Fuck. Gonna stuff this cunt. Come on, come for me. again, baby.” You know he is close by how much you can feel him throb inside of you.

With a particularly sharp thrust your orgasm washes over you, and you scream, letting your back fall on the mattress as you squirted, your juices making a mess on both you and Lewis. The sight makes him burst instantly and he groans, throwing his head back while he stills inside of you, pumping you full of his cum.

You’ve never done this before. I mean, you definitely heard of squirting, but no one was ever able to get you to this stage. You quickly become self conscious. What if he didn’t like it? What if he found you disgusting now? Terrified, you look up to him only to find out how wrong you were. He is already looking your way, with a huge smirk on his face.

“Look at that. My girl squirted all over the place.”

You blush deeply at his words and cover your face with your hands, but he is quick to grab them and pin them to the bed around your head.

“Why are you hiding? What’s wrong?” He chuckled, amused by the childish action.

“I… I’ve never done that before.”

“Did it feel good though?” He asked with a smug grin.

“Mhm…” You bite your lip and writhe slightly, making him moan at the sudden movement.

He carefully pulls out of you and leans back on his heels, only to see both of your releases slowly drip out of your cunt. He humms and brings two fingers there to massage around your hole, and then he pushes them inside, fucking the cum back into you.

You whine and he stops, looking back at you.

“Wait here for a second, hm? I’m going to draw you a bath.”

You nod and thank him quietly, watching him lovestruck as he gets up from the bed, collects his boxers from the floor and pulls them on, then disappears to the bathroom.

Few minutes later you’re both in the tub, your back is pressed against his chest and your eyes are closed in relaxation while he is lazily running his hand through your hair.

Even though the silence is comfortable, you can’t help but start to overthink. What was he thinking about? You didn’t necessarily think he regretted what you did, but what did it mean? Was he going to ghost you after that? Act like nothing ever happened? You wouldn’t judge him, especially considering the situation with your father, but you hoped that it wouldn’t be the case. Part of you was convinced that he wouldn’t just leave you in the dark like that. That wasn’t Lewis. Could never be Lewis. But your insecurities are still eating you alive.

Then he takes you by surprise again by reading your mind. “What are you thinking about?”

“I was actually wondering what were you thinking about.” You chuckle, leaning your head back a bit to look at him. God, how can this man be so beautiful?

He smiles softly and nuzzles his nose along your cheek, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to it.

You let out a breath and sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation. “I was just asking myself… what now, I guess.” You shrugged, with a heavy heart.

He furrows his brows and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “What do you want?”

You gulped and licked your lips, looking at him through your lashes. “I want you.”

“Then you have me. And you know I want you too. But it’s going to be a lot more complicated than that.” He whispers to you and you feel your heart drop on the spot, afraid of what he might be insinuating.

Noticing the broken look in your eyes, he quickly places his hands on both your cheeks and leans forward. “What I mean by that is, that we should be careful. I know keeping things a secret isn’t healthy, but giving the circumstances, I don’t think it would benefit either of us right now if someone found out about what we have going on. I promise that it won’t last forever, I would never keep you a secret, but for now that’s just the way things are.”

You take in his words. You know he is right. And you’ll take anything as long as it means that he’ll be finally yours. Even though the thought of keeping a secret like that, especially from your dad, makes you feel uneasy. But you’re so ready to give it a shot, just for him. What if everything turns out alright in the end?

“I know. And I understand.” You nodded, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his in a tender kiss.

When you pull back, he gives you a quick wink and a smile, tapping the inside of your thigh lightly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

The Judgement Day’s Girl (pt 9)

Part 9

Warnings: wrestling, blood

Taglist: @judgementdayfan1 @rooskaya-yelena @iwanttoberich420 @teenagedramaqueenlisa @simpin4pixels @imagandom @eleamrsk @crustyboypix @werewolfbansheelove @pawspurpaw @noxstxr @myletitiawright @neptune-lover @thybulleric @femkekiki @ambrehhlulz-blog @salry80 @lomlrhea @nightwonderer1 @ynbutbetter @hails-coleman @odessa-is-my-queen @jdnclaymoresbitch @plk-18 @lani08sblog

Monday Night Raw

Y/N’s life has been chaotic since Extreme Rules. With Beth having a concussion. Y/N thinking she should just stay at her parents’ house and not go to work and her parents forcing her to go. It’s just been a lot.

The Judgement Day also tried to get a hold of Y/N after Extreme Rules. No answer. Y/N didn’t want to talk to them after hurting Beth. Edge she would’ve been fine with, but Beth no one hurts Beth without a consequence. 

Y/N had a lot of thoughts walking into the Barclay’s center in New York. She tried to keep busy with her usual routine. None of it worked. She already knew the schedule because every time she walks in now a crew member comes and gives her one after the minor incident.

Y/N was booked as ringside for her uncle’s match against Chad Gable. They also booked her for the Judgement Day’s promo after the match, but beside that in brackets it says just in case. 

She found that weird, but hey what could she do about it? Running behind schedule, Y/N quickly began her makeup.

She got everything on and ready, but has not tied up her boots yet. She had forgotten to do that. Running over to her uncle’s change room. She knocks on the door and Rey answers it with arms wide open. The hug was comforting and much needed. 

“Amor, your laces aren’t done up,” Rey states, looking down at the boots.

“Oh, I forgot to do them up. Thanks tìo,” she replies. 

“Ready to go to the gorilla now?” Rey questions as she finishes doing up her laces. 

Y/N nods, follow her uncle out the door.

Booyaka, Booyaka

Y/N and Rey were walking together down the ramp. Y/N loved hearing the crowd pop for their favorite superstars. It was just a great feeling that warmed her heart. The cheering died down as you hear. 

Shoooosh, Shoosh please

It was the Alpha Academy. Y/N hated them. Not only were they annoying to her, but Otis just makes her so uncomfortable with the comments he makes about her. Whenever she’s standing ringside and he is too, he just tries to flirt all the time.

Y/N was still in the ring when Chad entered. She exited. Rey turns to her and kisses her cheek before putting all his attention on Chad. As soon as Y/N’s feet touched the ground, Otis was right at her side. 

Y/N wasn’t really paying any attention to the match. As Otis was talking to her and flirting. She had almost lost it when he touched her. The touch didn’t last long as he realized his buddy Chad was outside of the ring. Y/N looked up and her uncle was still in the ring. 

She also tried really hard to pay attention on her own when Otis wasn’t bothering her. It’s been her mind that hasn’t been right. She thought being out with the WWE universe would calm her mind, but it didn’t.

Her mind was quickly cut off when she heard the opening to the judgment day theme song. Jumping up on the apron closest to Rey, which was right in front of the commentator table. She saw Rhea and Dominik come from backstage. Her uncle was shaking his head. Y/N was just nervous for her and her uncle. She realizes she can’t ignore them forever, but for now, at least she could try. 

Trying not to focus on the two coming from backstage, Rey focuses on Y/N, ushering her off of the apron. Informing her he’s got it. Y/N listens to her uncle. 

Of course, this match was a blur for Y/N. Now that Rhea and Dominik were out there, her mind was going 1 000 miles a minute. She managed to catch the last bit of the match when her mind finally calmed down. Rey had won.

She slides into the ring, hugging her uncle and congratulating him on the win. She smiled as Rey’s arm was lifted up by the ref. The smile didn’t last long. Dominik was getting into the ring, so she backed up. Rey told her beforehand that he wanted to deal with Dominik alone. 

Dom wanted his father to hit him. Rey wanted nothing to do with that. He was going to get out of the ring, but Rhea was standing there. Rey turns back around to look at Dominik. 

While that is happening, Rhea looks at Y/N, who’s distracted by the father and son. She pulls out a pair of handcuffs and handcuffs Y/N to the ropes. The young girl looked at the handcuffs, tugging at it. She only ended up giving a small cut on her wrist. Dominik was yelling at his father to hit him. Rey didn’t want to, though.

Rey had noticed Damian get on the apron and went to punch him off. Finn then enters the ring. Rey fights Finn, sending him into Dominik, and now Dominik is outside the ring. Y/N made sure to back up before she got hit. The slight moving back causes the cuff around her wrist to cut deeper into the skin. 

Y/N looks up and sees her uncle set Finn up for a 619. The 619 didn’t make it, though Dominik had intercepted it. While Rey was lying on the ring, Dominik was yelling at him again, “Hit me!”

Y/N tries to scream at Dominik to distract him, but that doesn’t work. Apparently they also had tape, so Rhea put a piece over her mouth. The tape for sure didn’t last long because Y/N’s other hand was free. The crowd was chanting, ‘You Suck’ at Dominik for treating his father like this. 

Y/N had to look away. Rey was crying, and she couldn’t stand when her family cries. Her uncle had turned away. That was a big mistake. Dominik hits him from behind, holding him there until Rhea grabs Rey’s arms and holds him in place. 

Y/N started yelling at Dominik again. This time, Finn came up behind her and put his hand over her mouth to shut her up. Dominik had done it. He had delivered a 619 to his own father. 

Y/N had to think quickly to get Finn’s hand off of her mouth. She bit down on his hand and punched him in the stomach. Now she has full access to yell at Dominik, to yell to see if her uncle is okay or just to yell at the Judgement Day in general.

Since the Judgement Day had a promo next, they left Y/N handcuffed to the rope. She was still bleeding. The WWE universe could probably see on her face that she didn’t want to stand out there for how long with the Judgement Day. She had hoped that someone could save her from this nightmare, as she liked to call it.

The booing from the crowd made Y/N start to laugh. That was until Damian looked at her. She had stopped quickly, looking down at the handcuffs, seeing if there was a way to get out of them. 

“Like I’ve said every single week, since you peasants can’t get it through your thick skulls,” Rhea starts off. 

She finishes off by saying, “The Judgement Day, we run Monday night, Raw.”

“You hate to hear the truth,” Damian states. “That is truth, Rhea spoke truth.”

“I mean think about it,” he continues, “Every single person that steps to us falls, all the while the Judgement Day continues to rise.”

“You know what, though. Let’s talk about something more important. Let’s talk about how my boy Finn Balor handled business at extreme rules,” Damian finishes off. 

“Like I’ve said before. When you come at Finn, you best not miss,” Finn starts.

Y/N wanted to be gone from the ring. Even from the building. She didn’t want to stand close to Judgement Day. Y/N didn’t even catch most of Finn’s sentence.

“-I ended the party,” Finn states.

Y/N was bewildered. She didn’t know about no party. When she finally clued in, she felt stupid. There was no party, it was just everyone celebrating Edge’s return.

“I pissed on y’all’s parade,” the Irish man continues, “because I made her dad say the words ‘I Quit’. That’s right, I made Edge say the words ‘I Quit’.”

Y/N rolled her eyes when Finn looked at her. She thought we got it, Finn; we don’t need you to repeat yourself.

“Hey Dominik, what words did I make her dad say?” he questions Dominik while pointing towards me.

Dominik replies, “Edge said ‘I Quit’.”

“Hey priest. What did I make Edge do?” Finn questions again.

“Oh, you made Edge say ‘I Quit’,” Damian replies, laughing.

“That’s right. I made Edge say the words ‘I Quit’ and you know why, because Finn Balor don't quit. I’m too legit to quit,” he finishes off.

“No, that’s not right. You were gonna quit if those baboons didn’t help you,” Y/N decides to yell at him.

They ignore her. 

“You know what? Have you seen him since Saturday Night? You know what, let’s watch it again because I want to watch it one more time,” Finn says.

They played the most important parts of that match. Ones that Y/N didn’t want to rewatch or even relive. The poor girl made sure to not watch the screen when the end of the match came on. She had to hear her father utter the words again and hear the chair hitting Beth.

When the video ended, Judgement Day was all standing and laughing together. This is what Y/N couldn’t stand about them. They injure someone and laugh about it. She would at least be a bit worried about the person if she did that.

“Oh brings a tear to my eye,” Rhea starts off, “The Glamazon, Beth Phoenix. What a joke.”

“Beth, what I did to you was just a glimpse of what I’m capable of,” Rhea states.

“And watching Rhea and action, you know, just-” Dominik pauses.

The crowd was booing so loud he couldn’t speak. Finn tried to shut them up. 

“You guys are just jealous, so shut your mouths,” Rhea says.

“What I was going to say was, Rhea hitting Edge’s wife, Y/N’s mother, Beth with a conchairto did it for me, and I know it did it for all of you as well,” Dominik says.

Y/N doesn’t care what Dominik said next. She was in her own world trying to figure out the handcuffs. Careful not to tighten them more. The handcuffs weren’t the only thing on her mind. Everything that happened on Saturday was on her mind. The only time she looked up was when AJ Styles’ theme song went off.

“Finn, as long as we’ve known each other, it’s come down to this,” AJ says.

“AJ, you made this a lot harder than it needed to be,” Finn begins, “I could have ended this-“

“Oh woah woah, hold on, hold on,” AJ cuts him off.

“Finn, I’m not out here to argue with you. You’re right,” says AJ.

Y/N was so confused, it wasn’t even funny. Why would AJ want to join the Judgement Day?

“Everything I needed was standing right in front of me. With my back against the wall, I’ve been alone for far too long. There comes a time in a man’s life where he needs friends. Hell, in my case, I need family. So from the first time we met in Japan, to now. I’m I not my brother’s keeper.” AJ finishes off kneeling on the floor. 

Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes. AJ was going to join the Judgement Day. There was nothing she could do to stop it, either. They would all ignore her if she yelled. Finn puts his hand out to help AJ up. They share a hug.

“AJ, AJ, I’m so proud of you and I knew you would finally come around,” Finn says.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” AJ replies. 

The theme of the O. C play. The smile on Y/N’s face grew wider than possible. Gallows and Anderson were back and ready to fight. Dominik starts yelling at the O. C and Gallows had enough and just slapped Dominik. That started a fight. 

The O. C was in the ring as the Judgement Day made their way backstage. 

“Hey, do any of you have a key to these?” Y/N questions the three.

Karl pulls out a key and unlocks her. They got a good look at her bloody wrist. Before ushering her backstage to go get it checked out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was part 9. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. My favorite thing is AJ saying, “I wasn’t talking about you.” I don’t know why it just makes me laugh every time. Hope you have a good night/afternoon/ morning!!!!

☁︎ 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..".

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.”

Sick

summary: Y/n is sick...

I feel miserable. My head is pounding, my body aches in places I didn't even know could hurt, and my nose is so stuffed up that breathing feels like a full-time job. I'm curled up in bed under a mountain of blankets, feeling like a small, pathetic pile of humanity, when I hear the door creak open.

"Y/n..." Charles's voice is so soft, it's almost a whisper, but it cuts through the fog in my brain easily.

I lift my head just barely to look at him, my eyes puffy and tired. I'm too weak to even form words, so I just let out a pathetic little grunt, which somehow says everything he needs to know.

He smiles — that small, soft smile he only ever uses when he's worried about me — and crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed. He reaches out, brushing some sweaty hair away from my forehead, his hand cool and comforting.

"You're burning up, baby," he murmurs, more to himself than to me. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up a little."

I don't have the strength to argue, even though the thought of moving makes me want to cry. Gently, Charles scoops me up like I weigh nothing, cradling me against his chest. I tuck my face into his shoulder, too tired to even be embarrassed by how much I'm leaning on him.

He carries me into the bathroom, already warm from the steam of the bath he must've run earlier. The smell of lavender fills the air — something calming, soothing — and he kneels down with me, setting me softly on the edge of the tub. I blink at him through heavy lashes, feeling like I might fall asleep sitting up.

"Let me help, yeah?" he says quietly, almost like he's asking for permission. I nod weakly.

With hands that are so careful it almost makes me cry, Charles peels my sweat-soaked clothes off, helping me step into the warm water. The second my body hits the heat, I let out a small, broken sigh. It feels so good I could melt right there.

Charles rolls up his sleeves and kneels beside the tub, taking a soft cloth and running it gently over my arms, my back, my face. Every motion is slow, patient, like he's afraid I'll shatter if he's too rough.

"You're doing so good," he whispers, dipping the cloth back into the water and wringing it out carefully. "Just relax, okay?"

I close my eyes, letting myself be cared for. The warmth of the bath, the rhythmic motion of his hands, the quiet sound of his breathing — it all works together to calm the pounding in my head just a little.

After a while, he helps me out, wrapping me immediately in the biggest, fluffiest towel he could find. He dries me off so gently it feels like I'm made of glass, then carries me back to bed and tucks me in like I'm something precious.

"I'll be right back," he says, brushing a kiss across my forehead.

I don't even have time to miss him before he's back, a bowl of soup in his hands and that same gentle look in his eyes. He sits beside me again, helping me sit up against the pillows.

"Here," he says, blowing on the spoon before holding it up to my lips. "Small sips."

I feel stupid, letting someone feed me like I'm a child, but Charles doesn't make it feel stupid. His hand is steady, his touch light, and his patience endless. Every spoonful is warm and soothing, easing the ache in my throat a little at a time.

"You're doing great," he says after every few bites, like it's some huge accomplishment that I'm managing to swallow soup.

When I'm too tired to eat anymore, he sets the bowl aside and carefully tucks me back under the covers, adjusting the blanket so it's perfectly snug around me. He sits with me for a moment longer, running his fingers softly through my damp hair.

"You're safe," he murmurs. "You're gonna feel better soon. I've got you."

And even though my body feels awful and my head is still pounding, I believe him. Because with Charles here — patient, soft, steady Charles— I know I'm going to be okay.

I'm half-dozing when I hear the door creak open again. I manage to crack one eye open just enough to see Alexandra slipping into the room, her arms full — a fresh set of clothes, a fluffy blanket, and what looks like a cup of tea balanced precariously on top.

Charles looks up at her with a small smile, and even through my fever haze, I catch the quiet exchange between them — that look they always share, the one that says "we've got this."

"Hey, baby," Alex says softly, setting everything down on the nightstand. She crosses to my side of the bed and kneels down, her hand cool as she brushes my hair back from my face. "You scared us a little."

I blink at her, throat too raw to speak, but I reach for her hand weakly. She catches it immediately, squeezing back gently.

Charles shifts so Alex can sit beside me, her body curling protectively around mine. She pulls the new blanket over both of us, making sure I'm tucked in right against her chest. I sink into her warmth like it's the only thing tethering me to the planet.

Charles sits at the foot of the bed now, watching, making sure everything is just right. He picks up the tea Alex brought and gently places it in her hands.

"Think you can get her to sip a little?" he asks quietly.

Alex smiles at me, the kind of smile that feels like home, and nods. She tilts the cup carefully, holding it to my lips. The first sip is warm, a little sweet, and it soothes the rawness in my throat immediately.

"There you go," she murmurs. "Just little bits. No rush."

I take a few more sips before resting my head against her shoulder again, completely exhausted but feeling... safer. Better. Not fixed, not yet — but not alone.

Charles moves around the room quietly, picking up the abandoned soup bowl and tidying up, but every few minutes he glances back at me, like he can't quite help himself.

"You're gonna be okay, baby," Alex says into my hair, rocking me just a little like I'm a kid again. "We've got you."

"Always," Charles echoes from the foot of the bed, his voice so sure, so steady.

And somewhere deep inside the fever and the fog, I believe them. I believe every word.

Because if there's anything in the world I trust — it's Charles's steady hands, and Alex's arms around me, and the way they both love me like I'm something fragile and fierce all at once.

I close my eyes, wrapped up in both of them, and finally — finally — let myself rest.

Alexandra's POV

Y/n's breathing evens out against my shoulder, her body finally relaxing fully into mine. I stay completely still, scared to even shift in case I disturb her.

Charles catches my eye from the foot of the bed. He's still holding the empty soup bowl in one hand, the towel slung over his shoulder from earlier. He looks tired — the same kind of tired I feel. The kind that settles in your chest when someone you love is hurting and there's not much you can do but be there.

I brush Y/n's hair back from her forehead again, fingers gentle, and kiss the top of her head. She doesn't stir. I can feel how warm her skin still is — the fever's still hanging on — but at least she's sleeping.

Charles sets the bowl down quietly on the nightstand and moves closer, crouching beside me. His hand finds my knee, squeezing it softly.

"She's okay," he says, barely above a whisper, like he's trying to convince himself too.

I nod, my throat tight. "Yeah. She's okay. She just needs time."

We both look down at her. Y/n looks so small like this. It's rare — usually she's so loud, so stubborn, so alive — but tonight she just looks... fragile. And it breaks my heart a little.

Charles leans his forehead against my arm for a second, letting out a slow breath. "I hate seeing her like this."

"I know," I whisper. I run my fingers through her hair again, slow and rhythmic, just trying to soothe her even in sleep.

We stay like that for a while — the three of us — until the room feels like it's breathing with us, warm and quiet and full of love.

Charles helps me shift her properly into the bed, both of us moving carefully like she's made of glass. She mumbles something under her breath as we lay her down, her fingers weakly clutching at my hoodie, not wanting to let go even in sleep.

"I'm right here, love," I whisper, smoothing her hair back. "Not going anywhere."

Charles pulls the blanket up to her chin, his movements careful, tucking her in the way you would a kid — neat, protective. His eyes are so full of tenderness it almost undoes me. He brushes a thumb across her cheek before finally climbing into bed on the other side of her.

I slip under the covers too, curling up close. Y/n immediately nuzzles against my chest, her face pressing into me, her whole body instinctively seeking comfort. I wrap my arms around her, feeling the weight of her settle into me fully.

Charles lies close on her other side, one of his hands finding hers beneath the blanket. He squeezes it gently, grounding her even in her sleep.

For a long while, we just lie there. The room is dim, the only sound the faint hum of the heater and Y/n's soft, uneven breaths. Every so often, she whimpers, shifting like she's caught in some fever dream, and each time, either Charles or I is there — whispering quiet reassurances, rubbing slow circles into her back or stroking her hair.

At some point, Charles's foot brushes against mine under the covers, a silent touch, and I press back without thinking. No words needed. We're both here. We both have her. We have each other.

I kiss Y/n's hair again, breathing her in — even sick, she still smells like home.

Eventually, I feel Y/n's breathing deepen, her body truly relaxing between us for the first time all night.

I let my eyes drift closed, one hand stroking through her hair, the other curled protectively around her. Charles's arm stretches over both of us now, like he's trying to shield us with just his presence alone.

And finally — for the first time in hours — I let myself rest too.

The morning is quiet, the soft kind of quiet that only happens when it's just the three of us, tucked away from the rest of the world.

The first thing I feel is Y/n's hair tickling under my chin, her head still tucked against me like she's afraid to let go even in sleep. Charles's hand is still loosely laced with hers, his breathing steady and slow.

I don't dare move much. I just lie there, running my fingers softly through her hair, careful not to wake her too soon.

Her face looks less flushed than last night, her brows no longer pinched tight in pain or fear. She's still pale, but she looks... peaceful.

I glance over at Charles. His eyes are open too now, just watching her, his thumb tracing absent-minded little circles on the back of her hand. He catches my eye and gives me a small, tired smile.

"She's cooler," he mouths.

I nod, swallowing the lump of relief in my throat.

We stay like that for a while, just breathing together, soaking in the slow miracle of her getting better.

Eventually, I feel her shift a little, her nose scrunching like it always does when she's about to wake up but doesn't want to. I smile down at her, brushing a knuckle against her cheek.

"Morning, sleepy," I whisper so softly it's almost a secret.

Her eyes flutter open, confused at first — then they land on me, then on Charles, and something in her whole body relaxes like a string snapping loose.

Y/n' POV

I blink a few times, trying to figure out if I'm dreaming.

But no — Alex is real, right there, holding me so close I can feel her heart beating against my ear. And Charles is there too, his fingers wrapped around mine like he never let go.

For a second, I just stay still, soaking it in. I feel weak, my throat dry and scratchy, but there's something warm and safe about the way they're looking at me. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as we're here, together.

"Hi," I croak out, my voice wrecked.

Alex smiles at me so softly it makes my chest ache. "Hi, baby. How're you feeling?"

I frown, trying to assess it. Everything hurts a little, my head is pounding, but it's better. Way better than last night. I glance between them, feeling a rush of gratitude so fierce it nearly knocks the breath out of me.

"Like I got hit by a bus," I rasp, managing a weak grin.

Charles chuckles — a warm, low sound — and reaches out to brush my hair away from my face. "You look better than you did yesterday."

"Not saying much," I mumble, and Alex laughs, the sound soft and sweet.

"You scared us," she says, her voice dipping low, her fingers tracing patterns on my back. "But you're okay now. We've got you."

"I know," I whisper. I nuzzle closer to her chest, clinging onto the comfort. "Thank you."

Charles squeezes my hand. "Always, Y/n/n."

Alex presses a kiss into my hair, lingering there like she can heal me with just her touch. Maybe she can.

I must've drifted back off for a little while, because the next thing I know, the bed shifts underneath me. I groan, squeezing my eyes shut tighter.

"Nooo," I whine into Alex's hoodie, clinging onto her like a stubborn koala.

She laughs quietly, trying to peel herself away without really trying. "Baby, you need to eat something," she says gently, stroking my hair. "You haven't eaten in almost a day."

"I'm fine," I mumble. "I'll survive. Like a cockroach."

Charles snorts from where he's sitting at the foot of the bed. "Cockroaches eat, you know."

I crack one eye open to glare at him, but it's weak at best. My body feels like it's made of wet sand.

"Come on," Alex coaxes, so soft it makes my heart ache. "Just a little bit. For me?"

I huff dramatically but I already know I've lost. I can never say no to her when she uses that voice.

"Fine," I grumble, rolling onto my back like a petulant child. "But I'm not chewing. One spoonful and I'm done."

Charles stands up, bringing over the little tray they must've set up. There's a bowl of steaming soup — homemade, by the smell of it — and a glass of water with a straw.

"You don't have to chew soup, genius," he teases, setting it down carefully beside Alex.

I stick my tongue out at him, then immediately regret it when my throat scratches painfully. Alex just smiles, dipping the spoon into the broth, blowing on it until it's cool enough, then holding it up to my lips.

"Open," she says softly, like she's feeding a toddler.

I roll my eyes but obey, letting her feed me a spoonful. It's warm and salty and tastes like heaven, even if my stomach protests at the sudden attention.

"Good girl," Alex praises, wiping the corner of my mouth with her thumb. The simple, silly praise makes me blush hotter than the soup.

Charles chuckles low under his breath, pretending he's not looking at me like I'm the most ridiculous, lovable thing he's ever seen.

"Don't laugh at me," I mutter after swallowing another sip.

"I'm not," he says — and he's technically telling the truth. His face is suspiciously neutral, but his eyes are glowing with affection. "I'm proud of you."

"You're so full of it," I grumble, but deep down, it feels nice. It feels safe.

Between the two of them — Alex patiently feeding me and Charles making me laugh just enough to forget how gross I feel — the ache in my chest loosens a little more.

Maybe being sick isn't so bad... when you're this loved.

His Sister | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 4.6K

Lewis Hamilton X Verstappen!Reader

Max Verstappen X reader!Sister

Summery: You have always been there for your brother, giving up everything for him, so when you decide to date his rival, what will he do.

Warnings: age gap(age not specified) mention of abuse, Jos Verstappen is an a-hole, Max is also an ass, bad childhood, bad father, cursing, alusion to smut but no actual smut

AN: this had me in tears at some parts, I was going, why did he do this 😭 as if I didn't write it, lol

Hope you all enjoy

Masterlist

Part 2

Growing up, Verstappen wasn’t easy. Growing up with Jos Verstappen as your guardian and the one that has custody is hard. Being the oldest, Verstappen is damn near impossible. Could you have chosen to live with your mother? Yes, but that would’ve left Max alone with Jos, something you weren’t about to do. Admittedly you were young yourself, but even at a young age you knew that if Max was left with Jos alone it wouldn’t turn out good for your brother, you’ve always been motherly and have so much love in you that you just shared it with those around you and your siblings got the most of it. It made perfect sense to you as a young girl to leave your life with your mother and sister and go with your brother and father.

At one point you were the one Karting, you loved cars and karting since you were young, with both parents into motorsport it was hard not to, and even Jos couldn’t deny how good you were, but alas you’re a female and there’s no way you’d make it all the way to F1, something that Jos loves to remind you of. That’s the reason he stopped you from going once Max started winning in karting, and he wanted to focus on his child, who would achieve all his personal dreams and make it into F1. Maybe it’s your love for the sport that made it easier but you enjoyed every time you went to a track and watched the karts race, you dreaded after the races though, to Jos anything but first is a failure. On days like that, you’d follow your father and stand in his way, he’d shout at you and push you around, and you’d take it all in all in the hope that by the time he reached Max he wouldn’t be angry, or at least you’d take the blunt end of his anger. That didn’t always happen and on those days you’d just stay with your brother holding his hand, walking with him home in the cold, in the rain and in the heat of the sun, never letting him go through a punishment alone and never letting him go through your punishments.

It was all in the hope that Max would reach F1 one day, and he did, he’s in Formula 1 now, he’s been there since he was 17, he skipped so many steps and jumped into Formula 1, he went from Toro Rosso to RedBull in a record time and he was racing with legends and world champions before you had time to comprehend it. All whilst you watched him from the garage, as a family member and a part of his team, never missing a race. Driving him around when he didn’t have his driver’s licence, hugging him after each win and DNF, picking up the pieces after a scolding from Jos and tearing up when he got his first win. Always smiling and happy for him no matter what.

You’d think now that you’re all older, the talk from your father wouldn’t affect you, that you’d get used to his words, and they won’t affect you. But he’s your dad. It never gets easy.

So here you are standing at the back of the garage you’re both watching the screen, when the camera cuts to you, you smile a bit before it cuts off back to the race, with one pull you’re away from prying eyes of people in the garage. Only the few people at the back could see you.

“What?” You ask your dad with a frown. His grip on your bicep is like iron. You hold in a wince and look him in the eye.

”What was that?” He whisper shouted, you looked at him confused. “Don’t give me that stupid look. How many times have I told you, I don’t like that look.”

”I’m just confused, I don’t know what you mean.” You explain yourself and try to act normal, all while knowing it’s about to get worse, he’s in a mood, Max’s race hasn’t been going like he’d like, he’s currently in second with Checo in first, something bad in your dad’s books.

”Don’t play stupid, I know what you’re playing at.” Jos squeezes more, and you’re bound to have a bruise by tomorrow morning.

“I’m literally doing nothing.” You move trying to pull your arm out of his grip, and he lets go of you but leans down in your face.

”I saw that look you gave the camera, don’t ruin your brother’s image.” You close your eyes and bite your lip, and it takes you a few seconds before you neutralise your expression into blankness. “Don’t look like a slut, it could affect the sponsors.”

”But I wasn’t.” You mutter, but he just scoffs.

”Don’t. Play. Games. With. Me.” With each word through his fretted teeth, he poked/pushed you with his finger at your shoulder, having you move back every time.

”I’m not.” You insist. Thankfully, before he can reply, someone clears their throat, making you both look to the side to see Hemlut standing there. He doesn’t look amused.

”Keep your family affairs out of the garage, please.” Was all he said before he turned to look at the screen. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes, giving your dad one last look you turn and go watch the race from a different spot in the garage as far away from him as you could get.

Max ended up winning the race, with Lewis second and Charles third. So all was good in the end, your brother won the race, your dad was back in his happy mode, and your day was ruined. You rushed with the crowd to congratulate Max on his win. Your brother comes to you for a hug. You kiss his cheek as you always do and pat his back.

”Congratulations Maxie.”

”Thanks.” He gives you a big smile before he’s rushed to get weighed, you look at Ferrari as they congratulate Charles, the sea of red eye catching, looking around you don’t see any Mercedes dressed personal in the vicinity. Your eyes then fell to the 7 times world champion, he’s sitting on the floor looking tired, his eyes swept over the teams looking for his own. You feel bad for him. His family must not be here today, and his team didn’t bother to show up for him.

Later that day, you found yourself pulled to a club to celebrate another Max win, you’re usually up for the celebration, but after what happened at the garage, you weren’t feeling up to it. However, you can never say no to Max when he asks you to do something all nice and loving, so that’s how you ended up here. In a random club, with a lot of Formula 1 workers from all teams and FIA, they’re all having the times of their lives as if they’re not rivals and hate each other, every other day of the week. You’ve sat down the moment you walked in and haven’t moved, drinks coming to you, but you’ve only been sipping light ones, not wanting to get drunk and deal with a headache in the morning.

An hour in, you head to the bar to order water or a soda, not in the mood to drink more. With a sigh, you lean on the bar and wait for the bartender to make his way to you, looking bored out of your life.

”You don’t look like you’re having fun.” Someone says, coming up to stand beside you, the accent familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint why before you turn and your eyes fall on a pair of brown eyes.

”Not really.” You say and shrug, turning so you’re both facing each other. “I mean you’re the first person to come up to talk to me in the last hour or something.”

”I don’t believe that, a beautiful woman like you.” Lewis gives you a small smile, and you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes.

“I know, right, and here I dressed up, only for it not to work.” You say a tone of amusement lanced into your words, liking this banter going back and forth.

”I wouldn’t say it’s not working.” Lewis says and looks you up and down, you blush under his gaze but the smile doesn’t drop from your lips, the bartender comes up to you right then and asks you for your order, you ask for a glass of water and a soda, before he turns to Lewis who doesn’t ask for a drink. “You’re not drinking?”

”I had a couple of drinks, but I don’t feel like getting drunk.” You tell him, and he hums, you lean closer as if you’re going to say a secret. “Between you and me, I didn’t want to be here anyways.”

”Me neither, why are you here?” Lewis asks, you look around the club, and your eyes fall onto your brother having the time of his life with his friends.

”Because my brother wanted me to come.” You say not looking away from Max, who was smiling and enjoying himself, it brings a smile to your face seeing him carefree. Your favourite type of Max.

”You’re Max’s sister.” At Lewis’ words, you realise he didn’t know who you were, your head snaps to look at him and give him the smallest of smiles, a defeated look hiding behind your eyes. As if you’re expecting the worst.

”Yeah, is that a problem?” You ask him already knowing what he’ll say. Your brother is his biggest rival. There’s history between them, and it’s not all rainbows and sunshine. Just because they have respect for each other doesn’t mean they love the other.

”No, you’re not Max.” This did surprise you, and it showed on your face, Lewis winked, and you shook your head. “Do you want to head out of here?”

”Sure.” With that, you and Lewis turn and head out. Everyone’s too drunk or too occupied to see your retreating figures.

Let’s just say that you enjoyed your night, Lewis isn’t just good at racing. He did convince you to stay the night after everything was said and done, with his eyes half lidded and you both breathing hard it was the easiest yes you’ve ever said.

You woke up alone with the shower going in the background, feeling lazy. You sat up in bed and looked out the window. The view from his room was beautiful. You’re so lost in thought you don’t realise when the water stopped running or when Lewis came in the room. He stood there looking at you, your back bare for him to see, your hair messy, the sun coming from the windows making you glow. Lewis, dressed in only his boxers, moves to the bed and slots himself behind you, his bare chest meeting your back as his arms sneak around your waist, pulling you back. You lean into his chest and take a deep breath, content with the moment. Lewis’ lips find their home where your neck meets your shoulder, placing soft feather-like kisses up and down the exposed skin, you move your head to the side giving him more room to do as he wants.

”Lewis.” You moan suddenly breathless, Lewis moves his hands up your arms lightly before you wince in pain, making him stop all movements and pull away from you. You freeze and close your eyes instantly, knowing why you were in pain.

”What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Lewis asks, feeling guilt for causing you pain. You shake your head no and sigh, still not looking at him.

”No, no, it’s not you.” Lewis looks at where his hands were and he sees the bruise on your bicep, his mind goes to last night and he thinks over his actions, did he hold your bicep, maybe squeezed a bit too hard. It definitely looks like hand marks. You stand up still naked and snatch Lewis’s shirt from the night before from the floor where you threw it and slip it on. The oversized shirt falls mid thigh, and the short sleeves come down to your elbows covering your bruise.

”Who the fuck did this to you?” Lewis follows you off the bed, you turn to look at him crossing your arms protectively, suddenly feeling self conscious, you refuse to meet his eyes and clear your throat but no words came out of your mouth. “y/n, just tell me what happened?”

”It’s nothing. He didn’t mean to.” You mutter and shake your head, your hair falling into your face.

“Who? Who did it?” Lewis pleaded with you and you closed your eyes and bit your lip to stop the tears, it wasn’t a secret how rough your father is especially in the RedBull garage but no one outside a few observant people(which don’t include Max) know how rough he is with you.

”My dad, but he was just angry. He’s not like that, not anymore.” You mumble the last part, but Lewis heard it loud and clear, and just like yesterday, he surprises you. Lewis pulls you in for a hug, his tattooed arms just pulling you close, and he holds you. He just holds you.

”Bloody hell, love, I’m sorry.” Lewis says in your hair, and you raise your head to look at him, but still staying in his hold.

”You have absolutely no reason to be sorry.” You tell him and your hands move up to his face, lightly touching his cheek, your eyes taking him in. “I don’t really care.”

“It still doesn’t make it right. You shouldn’t go through something like this.” Lewis says, and you shrug.

”Life isn’t really fair.” He felt that there’s more behind those words. You didn’t just mean what happened the day before. There’s more pain in your voice, in your past, and to him, it looked like no one took the time to talk to you about them to help you through those pains. Lewis finds himself wondering why, he’s known you for less than 24 hours and all he wants to do is get to know you, uncover all your secrets, help you where you need help, support you where you need support.

”Well, if you let me, I think I can make it a little more fair.” Lewis says, deciding that this isn’t the last time he’ll spend time with you. He pulls back and goes to his bedside table where his phone rests.

”What are you talking about?” You ask him confused.

”Give me your number, I’m taking you out next time we’re both free.” Lewis says and hands you his phone. You slowly take it and look up at him with wide eyes.

”You want to go out with me? like on a date?” You wanted to make sure you understood him correctly.

”I do.”

“Even though you know I come with baggage.” You want to make sure he understands it won’t be easy.

”I don’t think it’s baggage, but even if it was, I don’t care.” Lewis gives you one of his smiles that make you weak in your knees, and you don’t think twice and type in your number. Lewis instantly calls you, and your phone rings before he ends the call. “Now you also have my number, and if you ever need something, or someone or a place to just call me.”

”Thank you.”

”I haven’t done anything yet, love.”

”Oh you’ve already done a lot.” Most people would act as if nothing happened and they saw nothing, most wouldn’t want to go out with you knowing there’s a lot in your past that needs solving, most wouldn’t go out with their rival’s sister, but most aren’t Lewis Hamilton, and you’re glad he’s not like the most.

You and Lewis start texting, getting to know each other. You see a side to the Mercedes driver you’ve never seen before. He’s so easy to talk to. You feel like whatever you tell him is a secret he’ll take to the grave. In the couple weeks since you’ve started talking you’ve been more open with him than anyone else, not just about your past and growing up with Jos but about your feelings. He never judges and gives the best advice. He’s been supportive and understanding to a point you’ve asked yourself how he is real.

You asked him to keep your budding friendship (turing relationship) a secret and he agreed 100% with you, it’ll cause a lot of trouble when and if it comes out, and you’re not ready for that. And for the first time in forever you don’t spend your free time between races where Max is, you fly to wherever Lewis is, and so for a month you both find that time to get to know the other in a way that you’ve never done before, and you find yourself being Lewis’s girlfriend and it makes you the happiest thinking about it. He’s made you happier, and those closest to you have noticed you’re more smiley and happy those days.

Sneaking around like children, not two adults was part of the fun, but it also made it harder for you.

”What are you smiling at?” Kelly asks, leaning closer to you. You close your phone in an instant to the amusement of your brother’s girlfriend. Max was in a meeting or doing something for media, so you and Kelly were having lunch in the paddock.

“Nothing.” You say, and your face flushes red, making her laugh.

”Come on, I can tell you’re texting someone.” Kelly laughs and nudges you. You roll your eyes and take a sip from your drink. “Who is he?”

”Nonone.”

”So there’s someone.” Kelly raises her eyebrows, and you sigh and nod your head. Yes, Kelly squeals and looks like she’s ready for a gossip session.

“Kelly, you’re not getting more out of me.” You tell the female, and she pouts.

”Why? Even Max is wondering who you’re texting all the time.” Kelly is confused, and rightfully so, you’re very open with her and Max. Not the type to keep something like this a secret. Or so they thought, but how can they be 100% sure when you haven’t been with anyone for years or even shown interest in anyone.

”That’s why I can’t tell you.”

”What? you can trust me, I won’t tell him if you don't want to.” Kelly felt offended that you didn’t trust her to keep a secret. She’s close to you. Anyone close to Max is close to you. His friends are your friends.

”I wouldn't do that to you, if he found out you knew and didn’t tell him he’ll get mad.” You explain to her, wanting her to understand where you’re coming from.

”No he wouldn't.” Kelly replies, and you give her a look making her sigh, Max is protective, and no one is good enough for you in his eyes. “Okay maybe he will be, but who could you be dating for you to be so sure he’ll get mad, anyways.”

“I love you, Kells, but I can’t tell you.” You both sat in silence for a bit, Kelly was thinking of any possible men you might’ve come across the last month, she started crossing some out of the list she made in her mind that you wouldn’t like, before her eyes went wide.

”It’s a driver!” She shouts, and a few eyes snapped to look at you both. You choke on your drink and cough a few times. “Sorry.”

”What the fuck Kelly, you want to tell the whole world?” You whisper shout and she looks apologetically muttering sorry.

”It’s a driver then.” She whispered and you reluctantly nod, who knew this lunch would cause you so much. “I’m not going to push you for more… yet.”

”Well thank god for that.” You mutter, but know that she’ll look and analyse every single interaction you have with any driver. Kelly went over the 19 drivers, crossing out those in a relationship. Nico, Kevin, Valtteri, Daniel, Checo, Carlos, Pierre, Alex, Esteban, Charles, Oscar, and George are all in a relationship. That narrows it down, but it’s still a bit, but a few are still single. Fernando, Lewis, Lance, Zhou, Lando, Yuki and Logan that left her with 7 drivers that are single, and you’re at the age that dating someone older would raise a few eyebrows and so would dating some of the younger drivers, but it wouldn’t be totally out of the box. Lance is the one closest to you in age, but she doesn’t think he’s your type.

After the Austin Grand Prix, Lewis makes it to your room, and a few teams booked their rooms at the same hotel, something that you’ve come to appreciate. Your room isn’t as big as Lewis’s but it just happened that he made it to your room, the brit, and you decided to chill and have a lazy night. The TV was on, but you both weren’t focused on it, each having a glass of Almave in hand, the non alcoholic drink your new favourite and it looked like you’d never run out of it.

You just finished telling Lewis about something that happened when you were younger and still karting, telling him about all the drama that happened then and how silly it is. His arm was on the back of the sofa beides your head, your legs over his lap, and his other hand was on your thigh rubbing softly at the skin visible from your bunched up shorts.

”Why did you stop karting?” Lewis asked, your smile from laughing wasn’t all gone yet, but it did falter a bit. You suck in your lips and run your tongue over them.

”My dad said that there’s no place for women in motorsport and that Max will carry the family name in Formula 1.” You shrug, your head dropping a little. The hand besides your head moves to your face making you raise your head and look at him, Lewis felt bad for you but he tried not to be obvious about it, he knew you wouldn't want him to.

“I know for a fact then if you continued, you’d be kicking all out asses on track.” Lewis said softly, and you gave him a tight-lipped smile.

”You haven’t even seen me karting.” You tell him softly and find that your breath hits his face from how close you’ve gotten.

”Next time we meet up, we’ll do that.” Lewis said and gave your thigh a squeeze. You hum and lean closer, your lips meeting his. His lips were warm and soft, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head. And as always, his lips made a spark ignite inside you and left you warm and fuzzy. Soft sighs left your lips as your lips moved, Lewis’s hand moved up your thigh and over your butt, tugging you so you’d move with him until you’re standing him. You pull back just a little, your breath mingling with his, his eyes looking at you and making you fall in love with him.

”Lewis.” Just the way you said his name left him breathless and needy, he pulled you down for your lips to meet again.

You’re both disturbed when Lewis’s phone rings, you move from on top of him and he reaches over to get his phone, seeing the caller ID he gives you an apologetic look and answers the phone. You sigh sadly, feeling a bit irritated to be interrupted, but Lewis is a busy man, and she understands this.

“I’m sorry, love, but I have to go.” Lewis leans over to kiss your head before hastily gathering his things. “It’s an emergency meeting, I’ll text you when I’m done and come back.”

”Okay, I’ll wait for you.” You say and lay back on the sofa taking out your phone to scroll through the TV is still going. Around half an hour later, your door is opened, making you raise your head and frown when you see Max walking in.

”How did you get in?”

”I have a card.” Max shows you the door card that had your room number on it.

”Why?” You ask him confused. He also relieved that he hadn’t come in when Lewis was still here.

”You’ve been losing yours a lot lately, so I thought to just ask for one.” Max shrugged as if it’s normal, he sat down in the chair by your legs so you could look at him, you rolled your eyes at his words, not needing to ask how the front desk gave it to him. You haven’t been losing your cards. You’ve been asking for an extra one to give to Lewis.

“What’s that?” Max asks, and you don’t bother looking up from your phone.

”What’s what?”

“That.” You sigh and sit up, looking to where your brother is pointing, your heart drops. Lewis forgot his watch, and it’s laying there on the side table that had a lamp on it, and it’s so very obvious not yours. The IWC Big Pilot’s Watch Perpetual Calendar ‘Lewis Hamilton’ Edition IW503002 is a beauty, but no way can it be yours. You curse Lewis in your mind for taking it off when he first came in. You open your mouth and close it a couple of times, trying to find words to say but coming up empty. “I’ve seen this before.”

”I don’t think so.” You say nervously, chuckling. Max frowns in thought as he tries to remember where he had seen the watch before.

”No I’ve seen it, I remember the red.” Max mumbles, and the moment he remembers you can tell, his face says it all. “L-Lewis? That’s who you’ve been seeing behind my back.”

”Max-“

”No you had your chance to tell me, but you didn’t.” Max stands up, and you follow suit. His voice is angry and irritated, a bit of betrayal in there as well. “How could you date Lewis and not tell me how could you even date him, I can’t believe you’d do something like this!”

”I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d get angry, and I didn’t want you to be angry.” You try to explain to him your reason, but he’s having none of that.

”Because I’m calm now.” Max says sarcastically.

”Max, this is why I didn’t tell you.” Your hands move in frustration, one of your legs shake in anxiety, and you whisper. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

”What is there to understand? You’re sleeping with my rival.” Max shouts, it breaks you. Max may have this image as the villain in public but he’s not like that with you, he’s always been nice and loving, you’re the best thing about his childhood, the warm hug he had, the person he relayed on, the person that could always make him smile. Seeing the look in his eyes makes tears gather in yours. “y/n, I can’t believe you. After everything you’re just, what? Selling yourself to Lewis-“

”Max.”

”-Do you have any idea-“

”Max.”

”-how this can affect my image-“

”Max, please.”

”-I thought I could count on you not to do something like this-“

”I didn’t.”

”-Dad was right.”

”Wh-what?” This just breaks you in two, completely shatters you.

”He said that you’re an attention who-“

”Okay enough.” You say and raise your hands in the air to stop him, tears leaving your eyes freely. “Please leave, I can’t hear you anymore, I can’t.”

Max fights the need to say sorry and hug you. He’s too in his emotions, and he’s too stubborn and hardheaded to say anything.

”Just leave, please.” Max turns and leaves your room. The quality time he wanted to spend with you is ruined. The moment the door closes, he feels like his relationship with you is forever changed. It cracked, and he curses himself for being so careless with his words.

Part 2

Bow - Max Verstappen

Words: 463 Word Prompt: Bow Note(s): @faithshouseofchaos showed me an (edited) picture of Max with a bow on his bicep and I couldn’t help myself.

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“Maxie!”

He pauses the match, head tilting back, lips widening into a smile as his eyes light up.

“What’s up?”

She’s smiling as she walks over to the couch, to him, and his eyes track her movements, head swiveling as she moves from behind the couch to being in front of it. His legs instinctively moving to make room for her in between them.

She steps in between them and as he looks up at her, eyes roaming over her body before landing on her face, he notices her hands behind her back.

“What do you have?” Max asks.

Her smile widens and his heartbeat quickens. Her hands slowly move from behind her back and his eyebrow quirks up as he notices a pink ribbon resting in her palms.

“A ribbon?” She nods and he reaches for her, grabbing her forearms gently and pulling until she’s straddling his lap. “What do you want me to do with the ribbon?”

He could see her maybe wanting it tied around her waist, though it looks a bit short. It would fit around her neck like one of those ribbon chokers he’d seen before and that idea is quite appealing. She could want it laced around one of her wrists, he supposes and at the thought he can’t help but raise her dominant hand and pressing a kiss on its wrist.

“I was wondering,” She pauses and he nods, giving her waist a squeeze of encouragement. “If I could tie it around your bicep.” And with the final word, her pointer finger reaches out to touch his left one, the muscle flexing in response.

He blinks for a second but nods, shifting her a bit backwards. “Okay. Go ahead.”

Her eyes brighten and she’s pressing her lips to his, but before he can return it, she’s pressing kisses all over his face and he can’t help but laugh, delighting in her excitement. She presses one more to his lips, allowing him to kiss her back before she’s focusing on the ribbon in her hands.

He watches her eyes narrow, lips pursing as she focuses. Her fingers against his skin, the muscle again flexing at the touch and he’s unable to not smirk at the small giggle she gives. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she wraps it around his bicep, completely focused and when she finally ties it, making a beautiful bow with the extra ribbon, she beams, hands coming up to cover her face briefly before he catches them.

Giggles spill across his lips as he kisses her and Max just knows that if something as simple as pink ribbon around his bicep makes her this happy, he’ll forever wear it, only letting it come off just so she can tie it again.