#and the idiot driver did not tie it

[pucksandpower]

I’m Gonna Wife You Up

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: in which your best friend wins his first World Drivers’ Championship, proposes through text, and confesses his feelings for you … in that order

It’s just after 2 am when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You groan and roll over, squinting at the bright screen. A new text from Max. You can’t help but smile as you open it.

Ik im drunk but listen

Im gonna wife you up one day

Thats all

Good night

You laugh out loud at the drunken confession, shaking your head fondly. Leave it to Max to make even his most romantic statements sound completely ridiculous.

The two of you have been inseparable since you were kids racing in karts together. As his career skyrocketed into Formula 1 and global fame, you were always there by his side as his best friend and perpetual voice of reason.

Well, most of the time anyway.

As you type out a teasing response, another text comes through.

Wait no

Im coming over

You barely have time to process it before your phone starts ringing, Max’s goofy grinning face flashing on the screen. You accept the FaceTime call and he immediately starts rambling.

“Y/N! Y/N listen. I just won the fucking World Championship! Can you believe it?”

“Yes, I can actually,” you chuckle. “I was there, remember? Sitting right in the garage.”

“Of course you were! You’re always there,” he slurs, words running together. “My biggest supporter. My good luck charm.”

“I think you might be overestimating my involvement a tad there, buddy.”

He shakes his head adamantly. “No way. I couldn’t do any of this without you, y’know? All those years of you kicking my ass in the karts, pushing me to be better ...”

You scoff. “Oh please, you were always the better driver. I just got a head start.”

“That has nothing to do with it! You’re just crazy talented. Why d’you think I’ve kept you around all these years?”

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. Drunken banter with Max is one of your favorite pastimes.

Suddenly, there’s a loud banging on your door. You jump, staring at it in confusion.

“Y/N? Y/N you home?” Max’s muffled voice calls from the other side.

You glance back at your phone to see he’s now wandering down the hallway, FaceTiming you from outside your hotel room. Of course the idiot wouldn’t think to simply text you a heads up.

“Max! I’ll be right there, just stay put for once in your life.”

You hurry to the door and swing it open. There he is, leaning against the wall in a rumpled dress shirt and loosened tie, phone raised as he grins at you proudly. You can’t stop the grin that spreads across your own face at the sight of your best friend, for once totally carefree after years of endless pressure and scrutiny.

“Hey champ,” you tease, stepping aside so he can stumble into your living room. “Need me to give you a hand there?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He waves you off, somehow managing to trip over his own feet and crash onto your couch. You wince as he lets out a groan.

“Yeah, you seem totally fine.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles petulantly, making you laugh.

You move to stand over him, arms crossed as you drink in the sight. His dress shirt is untucked and half unbuttoned, tie completely askew. His carefully styled hair is now a tousled mess, a few stray strands falling over his bright eyes. Despite his drunken state, an almost giddy smile plays at his lips.

“What?” He asks, catching your fond gaze.

You shake your head. “Nothing, I’m just … I’m really proud of you, Max.”

His grin widens and he grabs your hand, tugging you down to sit beside him on the couch. “I did it, didn’t I? I actually fucking did it!”

“You did.” You squeeze his hand, hardly believing it yourself. “World Champion at just 24 years old. You deserve this so much.”

He sobers a bit, blue eyes shining intensely as he holds your gaze. “I couldn’t have done it without you though. You’ve been there every step of the way. Through all the good times and the bad ...”

You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off.

“No, shhh. Let me say this.” He takes a deep breath, seeming to struggle to find the right words. “You … you always believed in me. No matter what. Even when I didn’t believe in myself, even when everyone was writing me off and calling me arrogant or reckless … you were always there to pick me up and set me straight.”

His gaze drops briefly before locking with yours again. “You don’t know what that means to me, Y/N. To have someone like that, someone who’s always got your back no matter what. Who calls you on your bullshit but also hypes you up more than anyone. I honestly don’t know if I’d be here without you.”

Your throat feels tight as you blink back unexpected tears. You’ve never seen Max be this open and vulnerable before. You reach up impulsively to brush that stray lock of hair from his forehead, making him catch his breath.

In a burst of uncharacteristic boldness, you decide to be just as honest with him. “Max … you have to know how I feel about you after all these years. How much you mean to me.”

He swallows hard, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “Then show me.”

You search his gaze, trying to gauge if this is really what he wants, if he’ll regret this in the morning when he’s sober. But beneath the alcohol-induced haze, you see only sincerity and a longing you’ve secretly shared for so long.

So you lean in slowly, cupping his stubbly jaw in your palm as your lips finally meet his in a kiss you’ve dreamed about for years. It starts soft and tentative, exploring each other in this new territory. But it doesn’t take long for the heat to rise between you, years of built up tension boiling over.

His hands come up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he angles his head for deeper access. You let out a soft whimper against his lips, reveling in the feeling of finally having Max like this, all yours. He inhales sharply at the sound, like he can’t quite believe this is real either.

You pour everything into that kiss — your friendship, your inside jokes, and countless shared memories. All the pride and protectiveness, the unspoken words you’ve held back for so long.

And Max gives it all right back to you tenfold, kissing you with an undeniable hunger and passion reflective of the fierce determination that’s shaped him into a World Champion.

When you finally have to break apart for air, you’re both panting softly, chests heaving. Max rests his forehead against yours, eyes shining with an unmistakable tenderness.

“I meant what I said, y’know?” His voice is low and gravelly. “I really am gonna wife you up one day.”

You let out a watery chuckle, feeling deliriously happy and overwhelmed all at once. Only Max could make a drunken proclamation like that somehow sound so sweet and natural.

“Is that a promise?” You murmur against his lips.

He captures them in another searing kiss, sending tingles down your spine.

“It’s a goddamn certainty, schatje.”

Max wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping past your parted lips to explore your mouth hungrily. A low groan rumbles in his chest as your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer.

“Max ...” you breathe out between heated kisses. “We should … move this … to the bedroom.”

He answers by nipping at your bottom lip teasingly before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline.

“Bed … good idea ...” he mumbles against the sensitive skin just below your ear, making you shiver.

Before you can protest further, Max is clumsily maneuvering to straddle your lap on the couch, never breaking the fevered kiss. You can’t help but giggle at his drunken lack of coordination as he nearly topples the both of you to the floor.

“Smooth moves there, champ,” you quip breathlessly.

He leans back with a devilish smirk, blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “You know me, schatje. I’m a regular Casanova.”

You snort at that. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

His grin widening, Max suddenly lurches forward to blow a raspberry right on your neck, making you squeal with laughter.

“Max! You’re too drunk for this, you idiot.”

“Never too drunk for you,” he husks in that low, rumbly tone that sends tingles down your spine.

Before you can formulate a response, his nimble fingers are stumbling through undoing the buttons of his shirt, pushing the fabric aside to bare his toned chest to your roaming gaze. You can’t resist reaching out to run your palms over the skin, relishing in the firm muscle and light sprinkling of hair.

Max’s eyes slip closed, head falling back slightly as he savors your touch. “That’s it … been waiting for your hands on me for years.”

You swallow hard, suddenly very aware of how real this is, how you’re both finally crossing that line after harboring secret feelings for one another for so long. Before you can overthink it, Max is tugging insistently at the hem of your t-shirt.

Meeting his heated gaze, you raise your arms obediently to allow him to undress you. His hooded eyes darken further as more of your skin is slowly revealed to him, lingering reverently on your body in a way that makes your cheeks flush. You’ve never felt so wanted, so desired.

Once your shirt is tossed carelessly aside, Max leans in to capture your lips in another smoldering kiss, hands roaming across the newly exposed skin of your lower back and sides. You sigh into his mouth, arching shamelessly into his touch like you’ve been craving for ages.

In one fluid motion, Max hooks his arms beneath your thighs and stands from the couch, your legs instinctively winding around his waist as he hauls you up against his chest. You can’t help the startled laugh that escapes you, breaking the kiss.

“Max! What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed, of course,” he rumbles, already stumbling in the direction of your bedroom. “Can’t very well have my way with you on that tiny couch, can I?”

You shake your head at his forwardness, kissing along the sharp line of his jaw. “Is that so? And just what did you have in mind for this bed of mine, Mr. Verstappen?”

He shivers at your teasing tone, finally reaching the edge of your mattress and unceremoniously tumbling you both down onto the plush comforter. You let out a rather undignified squeak as Max lands half on top of you, quickly rolling to pin you beneath him.

Any snarky remarks you may have prepared immediately die on your lips when you take in his appearance — shirtless and slightly disheveled, those incredible eyes dark with undisguised want, pink lips parted enticingly. He’s never looked more gorgeous.

“You really wanna know what I have in mind?” Max’s voice is low and husky, making something deep within you tighten with anticipation. He leans down to trail scorching kisses along the sensitive column of your throat. “I’m gonna take my time exploring every single inch of you, liefje. Mapping out all those gorgeous curves of yours ...”

He punctuates the words by rolling his hips firmly against yours, allowing you to feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your core. You can’t stop the whimpery moan that falls from your lips at the delicious friction.

Max grins wickedly against your neck. “That’s it, make more of those pretty sounds for me ...”

You tangle your fingers in his tousled hair to tug his mouth back to yours, unable to resist tasting him again. The kiss quickly turns heated and desperate, all tongue and teeth, both of you pouring out years of built up longing. Your hands roam feverishly across the broad expanse of Max’s back, committing every ridge and plane of muscle to memory.

Growing impatient, you begin tugging impatiently at Max’s belt buckle and zipper, making him break away with a breathy chuckle.

“Fuck, you’re eager tonight, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” you shoot back cheekily, finally popping open the button and shoving his jeans down over his narrow hips. “Pretty sure you proposed to me, like, thirty seconds after our first kiss.”

He sobers somewhat at that, eyes shining with sincerity as he holds your gaze. “I meant that. I really do want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your heart flutters wildly in your chest at his words, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. “Max ...”

He cuts you off by capturing your lips in another bruising kiss, effectively robbing you of coherent thought. When he rocks his hips again, you realize with a start that the last shred of his clothing has disappeared at some point during your heated exchange.

You break away with a shaky gasp, drinking in the sight of his fully naked form above you. Despite having seen him undressed countless times in a purely platonic context — in his driver’s rooms before races, passing showers when staying over at his apartment, that one incredibly awkward encounter in the Red Bull cold tub after the Singapore Grand Prix earlier this year — you’ve never truly taken the time to appreciate Max like this, to openly admire his body and all its lean lines and toned muscle definition.

“See something you like?” His teasing lilt snaps you out of your dazed reverie.

Cheeks flushing hotly, you lick your lips unconsciously before nodding slowly. “Very much so.”

His gravelly chuckle makes something low in your belly stir. “Then let’s get you out of these.”

Max tugs at the waistband of your leggings, helping to shimmy them down your legs and tossing them carelessly aside. You instinctively move to cover yourself with your arms, suddenly feeling very exposed. But Max just shakes his head slowly, emerald eyes raking over your body with naked reverence.

“Don’t,” he murmurs huskily, gently pulling your arms away. “You’re fucking stunning, every last inch of you.”

His worshipful tone makes you feel beautiful and powerful in a way you never have before. You keep your eyes locked on his, feeling utterly weightless as Max leans down to trail hot, open mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. He takes his time exploring and tasting every inch of newly uncovered skin, relishing in the breathy whimpers and moans he draws from you freely.

But as his mouth moves lower, lavishing attention on the soft curves of your belly and hips, you begin to notice a subtle change. His movements are growing slower, more sluggish, those previously sharp nips and licks turning sloppier.

And when you tangle your fingers in his tousled hair to provide some gentle guidance, Max lets out a long, low grumble of contentment … followed swiftly by a rumbling snore.

You blink down at him in surprise, hardly able to believe it. This absolute idiot, this drunken oaf of a World Champion … has fallen straight to sleep on top of you, fully nude and still nestled between your parted thighs.

A burst of laughter bubbles up from your chest, loud and borderline hysterical. You shake your head slowly at the ridiculousness of it all, hardly caring that the moment has been completely ruined.

Because somehow, of course this would happen to you. Only Max could seduce you to within an inch of your life before passing out entirely mid-foreplay.

Typical.

Still, you can’t quite smother your fond smile as you gaze down at his slack, boyishly handsome features, completely relaxed in peaceful slumber. Even sloshed and wasted, he looks almost unbearably sweet like this — finally free of the perpetual weight of stress and pressure he usually carries on those strong shoulders.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur affectionately, smoothing back the tousled chestnut strands from his forehead. “Only you could make me go this disgustingly gooey, even when you’re being a drunken mess.”

With a rueful shake of your head, you began the arduous task of gently maneuvering Max to roll off of you and onto his back beside you on the bed. He lets out a disgruntled grumble at the movement, snuffling adorably into the pillows as you tug the comforter up over his naked form.

Once he seems as settled and comfortable as he’s likely to get, you study his slumbering features for another lingering moment. God, he really is beautiful, inside and out. And he’s all yours now, in a way you’ve only dreamed of for years.

Smiling to yourself, you scoot closer until you’re nestled against his side, head pillowed on his muscular chest. You revel in the feeling of Max’s strong arms instinctively wrapping around you, holding you close even in sleep.

With a contented sigh, you let your eyes drift closed, safe in the knowledge that you’ll be able to wake up like this tomorrow — and hopefully every day after that for the rest of your lives.

Just before slipping into peaceful dreams yourself, you can’t resist pressing one last featherlight kiss to the hollow of Max’s throat.

“I love you, my World Champion,” you whisper against his skin.

Max just smiles that brilliant sunny grin in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him. And really, that’s all the answer you’ll ever need.

[evie-sturns]

ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: it's your 5 month anniversary with matt, to celebrate he takes you to a drive in movie, but things don't turn out the way you expected.

contains: smut, semi public sex, car sex, fluff, swearing.

-----------------------°°••....••°°--------------————

9:48pm

i've been rotting it bed since i woke up in the mid-afternoon, the light in my room is fading as the sun sets. with a dramatic sigh i roll over in bed to check my phone, i have several missed calls from my boyfriend, matt.

"shit." i mumble to myself, dialing matt's number after accidentally ignoring him for half the day.

"y/n, are you okay?" matt says with a sigh through the phone.

"yeah.. yeah i'm sorry i was asleep, you okay?" i reply, dragging myself out of bed as i clutch my phone in one hand.

"meet me outside in 10 minutes okay?"

"matt, i just woke up." i groan, stripping down to nothing before rummaging through my closet for anything to wear.

"doesn't matter sweetheart." i can hear matts smile in his voice as he hangs up.

my eyebrows furrow with confusion as i pull up my jeans, i place my phone back down on my bed and dart around my ensuite, messily applying mascara and attempting to tie my hair into two braids.

the rumble of matts van pulling into my driveway echos from outside my house, followed by 4 gentle knocks on my front door. "doors unlocked!" i yell out, yanking up my socks past my ankles.

i hear approaching footsteps up my stairs, matt swings open my door.

hes wearing dad jeans, and a cute red crewneck which slightly hugs his waist.

"matt!" i exclaim, running up to him and embracing matt in a tight hug. he laughs before rubbing my back.

"happy anniversary" matt smiles, grabbing my hand as i pull away.

"ready to go?" he asks, i clear my throat quietly.

if im being honest i have no idea where we are meant to be going, i can't remember if matt's told me or not.

"okay.." i force a confident tone, letting matt guide us downstairs and out into the driveway where his grey minivan is parked, barely illuminated from the decaying streetlight above.

he opens the door for me, mindlessly i jump into the passenger seat, switching my phone on do not disturb while matt climbs into the drivers side, turning on the ignition.

after several minutes of small talk matt pulls off the main road, towards an empty parking lot.

“hey, matt.. i know we are going somewhere, but i can’t remember if you told me where.” i mutter quietly, earning a giggle from matt

“i’d hope i didn’t tell you, it’s a surprise idiot.” he laughs, rubbing his eyes.

i nod, giving him a slap on the leg from his snarky nickname.

at the back of the parking lot there’s a wall, i think it’s the back of a business workplace or something. matt backs into the parking spot, specifically the one where his trunk is about a meter away from the wall.

he sighs nervously before starting “i decided to kind of do something different, i’m kind of surprised you haven’t caught on but.. ya know.”

i nod “okay!” before matt climbs out of the car, i follow and walk round the front of the car towards matt, who’s standing still near the back door.

he takes my hand, and pulls me toward the trunk before opening it, revealing the whole back of the van which is decked out in blankets, pillows and stuffed animals.

my jaw goes slack.

matt’s never been romantic, he says that he’s not into all the ‘cornball shit’, so this coming from him was possibly the last thing i expected.

“is it bad.” matt blurts out, his voice breaks slightly.

i let out a nervous giggle “matt this is so cute, i love it!”

i wrap my arms around him, grinning stupidly into his chest “how the fuck did i not see this in the back.” i tut,

matt picks me up and throws me in the trunk, the stupid amount of cushions breaks my fall

matt crawls in behind me, laying down with one arm out, inviting me to cuddle him, which i do.

i feel my eyes grow heavy while matt scrambles through the pillows beside us, i peel my eyes open to see matt frantically trying to put together a projector.

“matt?” i whisper, my voice hoarse, his head instantly snaps back to me with a guilty expression.

before he can speak the projector turns on, projecting matt’s phone screen onto the wall right in front of us from outside the trunk of the car.

“oh my god.” i laugh in disbelief, i look up at matt who has a proud look on his face.

i sit up and peck kisses all over his face “you’re so stupid” matt shakes his head with a grin painted across his mouth.

“i downloaded netflix for this..” matt whispers, earning another round of kisses from me.

“you can choose sweetheart.” matt says handing me his phone, i scroll through various movies before landing on one.

scream 2.

“horror in an abandoned parking lot!” matt gasps dramatically, “shut up its a good movie, still not sure how you haven’t watched it.” i joke back, pressing play.

the start of the movie is slow and boring, matt’s just been rubbing my thigh lovingly for the past few minutes, i don’t know what it’s doing to me but it’s got me extremely worked up.

suddenly i shut off the movie, before straddling matt. i don’t know how, but abrubtly i’m desperate for his hands some place else. “oh?” he clears his throat.

i toy with the button of his jeans “matt..” i whine quietly, locking eyes with him. “you alright gorgeous?” he croaks.

“i want your hands..” i whisper, my cheeks flushing.

“can i ask where this came from?” matt says, trying to keep his composure. “your hands on my thighs.. i need them further up.” i blurt out before slamming a hand over my mouth.

“mhm?” he replies, grabbing my ass and lifting me off him, next to his side.

“do you want me to take us home then?” matt questions, sitting up.

“what no?”

“baby i can’t make you feel good here, you know that.” he says “yes you can matt?” i snap back, the attitude in my voice peaking through

he looks at me with a disappointed dad look, “we’re in public last time i checked.”

“can i be honest matthew..” i say, my voice slow as i break eye contact. he nods , grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “anything.”

“i’m physically hurting from how badly i need you, so for the love of god don’t take me home because i am too inpatient for that, okay?”

matt’s eyes widen “gotcha.” he says, his voice cracks.

without another word i lie back, spreading my legs as far as they possibly can go.

“god, your needy today aren’t you?” he coos, positioning himself over me. matt plants a desperate kiss on my lips while one of his hands grip my inner thigh.

“gonna have to get these off, hm?” matt says, pulling down my jeans to my ankles, then yanking them off. the cold air night hits my warm skin, the only light in the back of the van is the few fairy lights matt put up.

matt grabs the back of my head gently, and lays me down flat on the mountain pillow

“comfy?”

i nod, matt looms over me, letting one hand rest between my legs, keeping direct eye contact with me the whole time.

this is the first time in a few weeks matt and i have got so intimate, i’ve been dangerously tired from work, and matt’s been working on the 6 mil video with nick and chris, leaving us little time to see each other.

a light scoff escapes from matt’s mouth, “wet for me all down your thighs.” he mutters, moving his hand up to rest on my clothed clit. i groan, the everlasting heat between my legs isn’t being helped.

i buck my hips up into matt’s hand, shutting my eyes for a brief moment. he takes his time to apply pressure, wanting to savour every moment of this.

i let out a shaky breath which hits matt’s neck, “more.” is the only word i can form through my horny state.

“mhm? you really want more?”

i bop my head up and down frantically, matt pushes my panties to the side and runs one long finger through my folds, brushing my bud temporarily .

a desperate whimper exits my throat, my hands lay flat on my stomach, pressing lightly. matt stares into my squinted eyes as he slides his index and middle finger into me.

“fuck.. thank you-..” i groan out, matt laughs

“thank you?” he says, a stupid grin on his face again. “sorry..” i mutter, a small smirk on my face revealing.

matt presses a peck to the tip of my nose before thrusting his fingers in and out of me,

“you feel so good around my fingers, gonna feel this good around my cock too yeah?”

just with that sentence i clench around matt’s fingers, releasing around them. matt’s mouth gapes a small amount. “sorry..” i breath out, i think that’s a new record for fastest time to cum ever.

“don’t say sorry, that was kind of impressive.” matt laughs, sliding his fingers out of me. he wipes them on the pillow beside us, ‘not wanting to make a mess’ is what he says each time.

i reach for matt’s jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down, i palm him through his boxers as i sit upright. matt stays quiet as he flips me over onto all fours “ready?” he says, kneeling behind me.

i look over my shoulder, matt somehow looks so innocent even though he’s about to fuck me dumb. “yeah.. please.”

he runs his tip over my slit a few times before sliding in, inch by inch.

“sweetheart?” i hear matt say softly from behind me, “mm?” i hum, “can you arch a little more for me gorgeous girl?” he says, resting a hand on my lower back and pressing lightly. i comply, arching my back as much as it can.

“good girl.” he whispers, his tip kissing my cervix.

he starts to thrust in and out, a string of moans exit my mouth as i bury my face in one of the pillows.

he grips my waist tight, i wouldn’t be surprised if there’s gonna be marks tomorrow.

“god you feel so fucking good.” matt praises, his thrusts growing faster and faster each time.

i hum in response, my mind has gone foggy.

a familiar knot forms in my stomach, i can feel myself reaching my second orgasm tonight. “your clenching, gonna come for me again?” matt says in between thrusts.

and with a squeal of matt’s name the knot in my stomach snaps.

matt pulls out with a slick sound before painting my back with white streaks. “shit shit shit..” matt curses, grabbing a blanket and wiping me down.

“you okay?” he asks, flopping down into the pile of pillows, i follow flopping down on his chest.

“more than okay..” i mumble into his neck.

————-

(a month later)

the sound of music fills my car as i drive over to matt’s house, today is our 6 month anniversary and we’ve planned a movie night at his home.

i pull into his driveway, i grab my phone and dash up to his front door, locking my car behind me.

i swing the door open, matt’s standing in the kitchen on his phone. “matt!!” i squeal, running up to hug him. “happy 6 month anniversary!” he says, smothering me with kisses.

he picks me up by my ass and takes us over to his living room, it’s dimly lit by the tv. he throws me down on the couch which is covered in various blankets and pillows.

i look over at the tv and my jaw drops with a laugh.

scream 2

“i mean we didn’t get to watch it last month!” matt shrugs, pulling me towards him on the couch.

-

it’s not even been 3 minutes and i’m being pounded into by matt, i think this is going to become a new tradition.

try to finish the scream movie without fucking in the first 10 minutes.

-----------------------°°••....••°°--------------————

[bunnys-kisses]

hello! i’m here to make a bakery order! id love to see a croissant and loaf of whole wheat bread with a sangria as the side, served by daniel ricciardo! possibly christian horner’s daughter reader 🫣🫣🫣

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? go wild with the menu! there's all kinds of items on there and i'm working tiredlessly to finish them all! thank you in advance for anything you send! as for this lovely anon, this captured me right away! i find so many love our danny ricc, so thank you for the order!

croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + loaf of whole wheat bread ("you're going to shut that mouth and take me.") + sangria (drunk sex) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, drunk sex, horner!reader, dirty talk/degrading language, doggy style, snark and sarcasm

daniel shouldn't have let the liquor run his mouth. he knew he should've kept this words to himself, it was so fucking stupid. but what he really needed right now was the devil on his shoulder, enabling his drunken ideas. and his good friend max verstappen was the perfect man in red.

"what colour do you think her panties are?" daniel asked as he turned max's head toward your direction, max was pretty much gone. currently you were seated with a drink in your hand. he knew you were drunk because you were flirty.

max looked at you for a moment and narrowed his eyes. he then chuckled before he took another healthy sip of his gin and tonic. he hit the glass a little too hard against the table and barked, "i don't know, mate. ask her!" then slapped his teammate on the shoulder.

but there was a small problem. daniel was driving for red bull and you were christian horner's daughter.

"what did you just ask me?" you said as you downed the rest of your drink, "do you have a wager or some shit with verstappen." you rested against the table a little, "are you fucking kidding me?" you got louder when you drank, just like your father.

he looked at you with those big eyes and asked, "can i see 'em anyway?" what should've been met with a slap across the face was instead met with him being pulled into an uber. the sound of max's laugh echoed in his brain.

you were both painfully drunk, this was a mistake waiting to happen. but while he couldn't make mistakes on the track. he'd be happy to flip his entire world inside out if it meant getting to fuck your sweet pussy.

"what about your father?" he asked before you made out him in the back of the car, your hands in his tie. his hand up the skirt of your dress, rubbing your upper thigh.

you pulled away and said, "danny. i don't care what my father wants right now? he's not even in the country." which surprised daniel before he pulled back into a searing kiss. you were both hands-y. when the uber arrived back at your home, you left another tip in case for the driver for all their trouble of transporting two drunk idiots.

your apartment was small given your status. but it was filled with charm. you both bumped into things as you tried to kick your shoes off. daniel's lips were on yours as you led him to the bedroom. your back clipped the door frame before you got both of you into the room. you were both stumbling as you got the light on.

"fuck, danny."

"i know, i know. i got ya."

"i'm such an idiot for letting you pick me up with that stupid line." you dropped to the bed and started to take off your dress. you looked so pretty, even drunk as hell with heat in your cheeks. you looked at him with want, "like jesus christ i'm stupid."

he took his tie off and took off his shirt, "well, call me curious. i want to know what horner's daughter wears underneath all those baggy shirts." he laughed.

you rolled your eyes, "fuck you, ricciardo. and stop mentioning my old man."

he pouted palyfully as he swayed a little in his stance. he could feel the alcohol ruining his critical thinking skills. he said, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

you huffed as you got down to your undergarments. cute baby blue boy shorts and a white bra with a blue bow in the middle. it made daniel stop in his tracks, his hands on his belt. you said in a stern tone, "if you want to keep talking to my dad, i can send you on a flight to let him fuck you." your words were biting.

he got the belt off and snapped it together threateningly, "don't make me gag you, princess."

"oh really?" you tilted your head to the side. the liquor you had gave you a sense of courage, "is someone worried that they're going to be shafted from the team? have to fuck me in a last ditch attempt to have a chance of being as good as max verstappen."

daniel laughed as he got closer to the bed. he got his slacks off and soon his underwear. leaving him naked, but he wasn't vulnerable. if anything there was a darkness that laid under him. the alcohol fueled something in his brain.

"oh sweet little horner. that's really sweet coming from you. at least i win, you can barely get past university. you'll be lucky to find a rich husband that can handle that mouth of yours." he got into bed with you, soon your underwear was off of you and daniel had you laid out under him. his cock pressed against your ass and his bulkier frame kept you pinned down to the bed. he held your jaw and said, "the horner name is only so good. i wonder if your pussy gives you any value. so, you're going to shut that mouth and take me. got it?"

you felt the alcohol flood your head more. you could barely form words, it was like daniel riccicardo melted any processing power in your head. you nodded and daniel slapped your ass.

"see, that's what i like to see. you feel so good under me.' daniel could already feel the heat on his back. his heart raced at the feeling of your soft skin under his hands. you were perfect for him. painfully beautiful. in all fairness, he forgot what colour your panties were, green? pink? whatever, this was more important.

he rubbed his cock up against you until he managed to get in between your thighs. getting right to your pussy, the feeling almost took the breath out of him. holy shit, you were perfect.

"where has your father been hiding you, beautiful?" he purred in a low tone which made your hips shift, "is that why he sent you to boarding school, so you wouldn't be a slut around the paddock." his words were poison and his thrusts were brutal, "i asked you what colour your panties were and you basically were sucking my cock." he groaned, "i bet if max came to you first, he'd be fucking you right now." he kissed at your cheek as he lifted your hips to get a better angle.

"never. god, never." you groaned.

"awww, is verstappen not good enough? get your bastard father and his bastard father in the same room." daniel chuckled, "in-laws from hell."

you groaned and kicked out your legs a little, "stop mentioning my dad, you asshole." but before you could say anything more, daniel had your head in the covers as he started to really work at your pussy.

"why? he's such a lovely man. zero issues with him whatsoever." he panted heavily in your ear, "i wonder if he'd know if you were here. if some loud mouth told him. that you were squirming under me, letting me use and abuse that pussy of yours."

you gripped onto the covers and moaned loudly. you felt your heart racing in your ears as you back arched. he kept you so nicely pinned between him and the best. there was no escaping out from under him.

"danny please."

"you beg so pretty." he said softly, "i should've asked you sooner. maybe i should've flashed them to max. i bet he would've liked to see what horner's been hiding from us." his words were liquid in your brain, frying any cognitive thought. the rush of everything made the liquor move through your head even more. you panted heavily against the covers as he continued to thrust inside of you.

"please, danny. fuck. i just wanted you. you stupid idiot!" you whined, "i wanted you and your dumb cock!"

"you like this don't you? you like having your insides rearranged by me." daniel barked a laugh as he continued to rut against you. he felt so deep inside of you.

"fuck." you groaned, not even able to deny it. it all felt so good, and you wanted to kill him for it. you hated that he polluted your brain like strong liquor.

he chuckled and kissed the side of your head, "see, being my good girl is always worth it. just let me take care of you." but he knew you'd be done soon. his words lived in your head and you panted into the covers.

"you drive me fucking insane."

"oh i know. i'm in your head all the time." he laughed.

"shit. danny." you whined as you clawed at the covers. your back arched like a cat and giving the perfect angle for daniel to fuck up into you. you held on for dear life as you climaxed around his cock. you panted into the covers.

daniel continued to move against you, using your hips to bounce you on his cock. you felt like a dream come true. his cock bullied your sweet pussy. he whispered in your ear, filth as he came inside of you. his hips against you a few more times before he stopped. he laid on top of you for a moment as he caught his breath.

your heart hammered in your chest as he eventually got on his side next to you. he bundled you up in his arms and held you close to him. there was heaving breathing between the two of you.

daniel pulled you in for another kiss, and the liquor in his head told him one thing. he wasn't letting you go.

-

"ricciardo." horner said. he sighed and crossed his arms. he looked like a disappointment parent more than a boss.

daniel put his best smile on, hiding the looming anxiety. why was he called into horner's office like he was a school boy in trouble. he replied, "yes, mister horner."

"you're a good driver. a good man. i hold a great deal of respect for you. so tell me why my daughter has to extend her time at university because she has asked for a semester off?"

daniel raises his eyebrows, "because academia is hard?"

"no, daniel. because according to verstappen you left a party with my daughter and now she turns up pregnant." he sighed, but kept his gaze on the man in front of him, "i hope you know if you skip out on her, you'll be in a world of trouble."

daniel swallowed at the news. he got horner's daughter pregnant. he. got. you. pregnant. the electricity of the news made him stand up, he said loudly, "shit. i have to buy a ring!" he wasn't letting his child go without! he looked to horner and said, "i have to go. tell your daughter to meet me tonight! i'll have a ring for her, sir!" before he high tailed it out of the office.

horner dropped his shoulders. at least the kid was responsible. while he didn't know the details of exactly how you ended up in bed with his driver. but it could've been a lot worse. as he rubbed his temples, it could've been worse. it could've been verstappen. <3

[slickchickchocolatier]

Little Red Riding Hood - Part One

Pairings: Jake X fem!y/n

Warnings: Werewolf Jake, there will be smut in his werewolf form, knotting, CNC smut, non/dub-con, kidnapping, Jake is Yandere in this one. Based off the fairytale. This is part one.

Authors note: Hello my lovely readers! Finally had some time to post part one, will be posting part two tonight. Please note that I have not had any time to go over and fix the structure or grammar, I wanted to but that would have furthered delayed in posting the parts and I just didn’t know when I’d get the time to do that. So please ignore any mistakes as this is not at all proofread. But I’m excited to write for you guys again! Enjoy! ♥️

“Y/n! Don’t forget the basket of fruit.”

Your mother trails behind, hand delivering the goods as you enter the uber. “Oh! Thanks mom. I’ll be back later.”

She nods. “Okay, have fun with granny!” waving goodbye, she sees you off as your driver pulls out of the driveway. The ride was silent, at least up until he entered the back road. “Visiting grandma’s house, huh?” he presents, attempting to make conversation. You nod. “Mmhmm.”

You take a moment to respond to unanswered texts, losing track of the value of time as the driver takes a backroad. It went unnoticed until you looked up the window and failed to recognize the scenery. “Um…sir? Which road is this?”

“Oh, just a shortcut. It will cut our trip in half this way.” Your brows frowned. Your grandma wasn’t far at all, only five miles down from the main road. The robust driver continued to travel along the long windy path, which ultimately surpassed the length of time it would normally take to reach your grandmother’s home. “Sir, please drop me off here.” You spoke sternly as you felt uneasy by the driver's response. His caucasian features presented a stoic countenance as he kept flashing a perverse gaze through the rearview mirror, making eye contact.

“Sir, I said drop me off here!” you demanded, yet all it did was make him chuckle laconically. “And leave a pretty girl like you stranded?”

You hissed. “I’m calling the police. Either you drop me off here, or I’m giving them your information.” A sudden turn of the vehicle gives you some relief, until he spoke out. “Fine, I'll drop you off.”

You quickly exit the vehicle. He berated and demanded extra payment for the inconvenience of the trip, in which you scolded him. “You have got to be kidding me! You’re the one who took me out here! I am nowhere near my destination, just what were your intentions? You sicko!”

After a spat that continued to go back and forth, you figured that this pathetic man was only trying to buy time and continue to view you from his mirror. It was the only sensible explanation, seeing as how he didn’t pose a greater threat other than lashing cursings and insults. Finally, with you dialing the number to the police yet again, the driver darts off, seeing that you weren’t bluffing. “Idiot.” you hissed as you watched the car disappear in the distance.

You attempted to make a phone call to your mother, but the call never went through. Figures. Being out here in the country, it seemed that the entire region was undeveloped. Your best chance was to walk on foot and knock at the first house you see. Carrying the basket, you start your journey and head in the direction of where you last saw the vehicle.

The windy breeze began picking up, fluttering the hem of your short sundress. An idea pops in your head and you remove the protective cover of the basket–a long red sash. Wrapping it around your body, it was wide enough to cloak your bodice and mid thigh. The length provided enough material for you to tie loosely around your waist as it draped over your hair, just as if it were really a cloak. “Perfect!” you whisper.

About a quarter of a mile out, and still there was no sign of any inhabitants. You can’t wait to get back home and report that driver to the head of the company. “He should be fired.” you huffed as you continued to walk. The sun started to set, which escalated your fear of not being able to make it back in time before nightfall. The massive forestry arching the road didn't make it easier. You looked back repeatedly to see if a car would come by. You’re not one to hitchhike, but there’s a first time for everything, you guess.

Your low heeled shoes started to feel uncomfortable as you reached a full mile. You wondered if turning back and heading in the opposite direction was a better option at this point. Just as you were reconsidering your approach, a lone vehicle pulls up from behind. It was black, and a luxury brand. Counting your lucky stars, you instantly greet the driver as the window pulls down.

“Hello, are you lost?”

From the angle you stood, you could only view the man’s lips and his seated position. He was finely dressed, and had on an intricate designed leather glove that partially decorated his left hand. “Yes! Could you please give me a lift to the next town?”

You watch as his lips give off a half smile, and the clicking of the locking feature puts you at ease when he reaches over the center console and opens the door for you. “Hop in.”

You settle yourself in the fine leather seating and then it hits you internally.

‘Whoa…’

The man presents a hand initiating the formal manners of introduction as he bids you to shake his. “I’m Jake.”

You gently take his hand with your fingertips and give a subtle shake. “I’m y/n.” The man was too handsome. His wide glasses gave him a classic appeal, while his lengthy hair enhanced it all as it swooped over the side. He looked as smooth as aged liquor, and as fine as fresh silk. Given the luxury of his attire and car, you figured he either came from a wealthy family or made his own fortune, which proposed the bigger question in what he was doing driving on this lonesome road. There was absolutely nothing industrious about this entire place, what could a fashionable man possibly be doing here?

You figured it would be too rude to inquire, so you merely relaxed and made conversation instead. “Thank you for giving me a ride. My uber driver had left me stranded and i am unfamiliar with this part of town.”

He kept his eyes on the road, relaxed in his seat as he steered the vehicle with one hand. His suit outlined his lean muscle and broad chest. You’ve never seen such an incredible looking man before. “Left you stranded, huh? That wasn’t nice of him.”

His voice was deep and equally as smooth as his looks. “Where was he taking you?” he inquires softly. You answer, which propelled him to continue on. “Your grandmother’s house is this far out?”

“No.” you respond. “He took this route while I was on my phone and I’m not sure why. I started to feel uneasy so I told him to drop me off here. I figured it was better to take chances on foot than it was to stay inside the car with him.”

“And what was he driving?”

You were somewhat confused at his inquiry of the driver's vehicle, yet it somehow made you flattered that the man appeared to indicate that he was going to take action against the rude driver. “It was a white car, I can't remember the make or model but its on my uber app.”

He nods. “I see. I suppose you want me to take you to the police station?”

You shook your head and asked if he wouldn’t mind bringing you to your grandmother’s home, to which he agreed. He gently taps on the wide screen on the dashboard. “You can put in the address.”

Once the gps feature was set, you frowned and internally cursed the uber driver in seeing that you were thirty minutes out from where your grandmother’s house was located. Feeling terrible that man, Jake, had to go out of his way to bring you there, you offered to pay him gas money, to which he declined. “Its alright. No need.”

As much as you hated the fact that you were so far out, you found yourself grateful at the fact that you had so much time to spend talking with Jake. His voice was so light and airy, yet deep with a lustful bravado. His features were perfect, and you had to keep reminding yourself to avoid staring.

Finally, you reach your destination as he pulls up to your grandmother’s mailbox. “We’re here.” A man of few words, yet somehow that just made him more attractive. You thanked him as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “One moment.” You halt your movements at the sound of his voice, and watch as he leans in. His chest hovering over the center console as he delicately unbuckles your seatbelt for you. With his face close to yours, you slightly blush and clear your throat as the smell of his cologne dances in your nostrils. He smirks as he unravels the seatbelt and lets it free from his grip. “Let me get the door for you.”

You watch through the windshield as he walks around the front of the car. Hand in pocket, his frame and stature in full sight was equally as impressive as his profile. God this man was so sexy.

He opens the door and helps you out. “Oh…thank you.” you softly express your gratitude while he takes your hand and stabilizes your posture as you hold onto the hem of your dress while getting out. His smooth tone had a faint–a very faint chuckle as he responded. “Hmph. No problem.”

The sunset fired the sky with an orange red hue. “Looks like it's going to be a full moon tonight.”

You chuckled. Confused by his deduction, you sought clarification. “What makes you think so?”

He remains staring at the sky and you feel his thumb stroking the back of your palm while your hand remains resting in his. You feel the heat of bloodrush as he continues to do so before gently releasing your hand at your side. “Just by the way the sun is setting. The color and direction can tell you these things.”

You look up to view the sky before he says goodbye. “It was nice meeting you. Please be careful. I would have someone else drive you home tonight.”

He was so kind. The fact that he had considered your safety made you fall for him, more so than what is considered normal considering you didn’t know this man. Still, how can someone be so beautiful inside and out? “Thank you…Jake.”

He flashes a smile–a real one this time. His teeth were pearly white and straight, enhancing the dashing value of his appeal. “Take care, y/n.”

He drives off after seeing you reach the front door. You sigh as sadness settles in your heart and soul watching him go. “I wish I could see you again…Jake.”

Entering the house, you announce your presence aloud, hoping that your grandma wouldn’t be startled as you let yourself in. Noticing the lack of response, you venture in and explore the house, and see no one was home. It figures. Your grandmother spent a lot of time at one of the neighbors' homes. She probably assumed you weren’t coming and went to spend time with some friends. You reached into the basket and noticed that your phone was not inside. “Oh no–my phone…my phone!”

Since your dress didn’t have any pockets, you had it nestled in the basket during the drive. It must have fallen out on the ride here, which posed another dilemma. You pick up the landline and dial your mother’s phone number, when a stagnant tone indicates that the line was busy or unresponsive.

After a few minutes of pondering, you figured it was best to take your grandmother's car and head back home. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind.

You make your way out and head to the main road, when construction signs indicated that all routes to the path were blocked. With your phone in Jake’s car and no GPS feature in your grandmother’s older vehicle, you had no choice but to head back the way you came in—the backroad. At least this time you had a car and didn’t have to face traveling by foot anymore.

Driving the same route, you turn the bright lights on as night falls. It wasn’t long before you saw red flashing beams blurring up around the bend. You make the curve and rest your eyes on a vehicle stalled to the side. The blinking lights continue to flicker on a steady tempo as you slowly pull from behind. The driver was nowhere to be seen, yet the door remained ajar. You felt uneasy, but you couldn’t leave without confirming that the passenger was unharmed. You place the car in park directly behind and call out–but no answer. You check your surroundings before breaching the driver side and peeking in–a sight that sends shivers down your spine. The windshield was stained with the words “she’s mine” all in blood. The bright red color combined with the ongoing dripping indicated that it was fresh. It only got worse as you continued to look around.

“Polaroids?”

A stack of small prints laid sporadically on the seats and floorboard–some were smeared with hints of blood. Looking closely at the photos, your breath paused as you squint in confusion. You pick up one of the prints and gasp in horror.

“This is–”

You held the photo in a pinched grip as your heartbeat escalated. The photos all were images of you during the uber ride. The angle of the camera was primarily pointed under the skirt of your dress, while others captured the fleshy softness of your cleavage, your defined collarbone, and delicate shoulders. Your hair draping over your bosom with your side profile reflecting your thoughtful gaze as you stared through the window. Everything became clear as you recognized the vehicle and its interior.

The Uber driver…

Part two coming soon…

[annawritesblog]

When I first saw you (o.p.)

Summary: Oscar falls for y/n instantly.

A/N: enjoyed writing this a lot. just some pure fluff for my Oscar girlies out there. also we need more Oscar imagines. please remember that english is not my first language, so excuse me if something's not correct. enjoy

Oscar knew. He knew the first time he saw her. The way her navy blue dress hugged her body, the way she laughed, the way her hair fall into her face. He just knew he had to get her.

He didn’t know who she was or why she was there then. He did know that he had been mesmerized by her beauty.

She just wanted to leave. She wasn’t a very sociable person. She had her close friend group whom with she very much liked spending time with. And although she did have her best friend by her, it was just awkward for her. She didn’t know anyone there, except Lily and her boyfriend. But the pair of them had disappeared minutes ago to have a chat with Alex’s boss. Time didn’t seem to pass and y/n grew anxious. She was standing all alone with a glass of champagne in her hand.

She didn’t know why she came. Maybe because her best friend had convinced her that it would be fun ‘hanging out’ with f1 drivers, at a formal dinner party. Tho she liked f1 and being in the same room as most drivers filled her with joy, the being alone thing didn’t. Neither did the fact that she felt like an outsider.

On the other end of the room, Oscar stood with a glass of champagne in his hand. He had spent the entire evening looking at the heaven brought angel. He wanted to go up to her several times, but never actually worked up the courage. So he just stayed with the staring. Which might have resulted in some confused looks. Mainly from his teammate. After a while, Lando decided that it was enough.

“Come on now Osc. Go up to her.” The Brit looked at the brunette standing next to him.

“And what do I do? Just stand next to her?” Oscar pointed out, although he knew his point didn’t make any sense. He didn’t make any sense.

“Oh, I don’t know let me think. Maybe talk to her?” Lando joked and Oscar just rolled his eyes. If it would be that easy, he wouldn’t think twice.

“I can’t. She would think I’m an idiot.” The young driver sighed and sipped his champagne.

“Go up to her and ask her if she’s enjoying the party.” Lando suggested, hoping that his friend would finally make the step. “Look, she’s alone. She’s been for a while. I’m sure she would even enjoy your company.” He laughed and Oscar wanted to disappear.

He was right tho. She was standing alone for some time. There’s nothing wrong in accompanying someone who’s standing all alone. And who knows, maybe Lando’s right. Maybe she would enjoy his company. More or less.

“Okay fine. I’ll go talk to her.” Oscar tightened his tie and inhaled nervously. He was going to finally do it.

“That’s the spirit.” The McLaren driver exclaimed. “Just keep it light, crack a few jokes. You have pretty funny ones.”

“Thanks.” Oscar said and left Lando on his own.

She wasn’t that far away actually. But the whole way there, he had ran things through his mind. Keep it light. The words from his teammate kept repeating in his head. It shouldn’t be that hard. Right?

She was ready to leave. Ready to go home and make a hot chocolate while listening to real music. Not this jazz that was making her head hurt. She would come up with some shitty excuse for Lily, something like a headache. She grabbed her clutch from the fancy table and started heading towards the exit. That was until she heard someone behind her.

“Did you drop this?” The brunette boy asked her. She looked confused, annoyed even. It was a penny in his hand. She did not drop that for sure.

He knew this excuse was terrible. It was everything but keeping it simple. And he felt like a fool. Did you drop this? Seriously? God he was so mad at himself.

Daniel joined Lando at the other end of the room. Lando had his eyes glued to the scene. He was cheering for Oscar when he had started going towards her. Then, not so much. He examined the actions of his teammate with wide eyes. What was he doing? He’s messing it up big time.

“What are we watching?” The Alphatauri driver asked.

“Oscar flirting.” Lando simply answered and tried to figure out his plan. Daniel shrugged his shoulder and decided to roll with it and catch up with the plot. He soon realized what was happening. And God, was he surprised.

Everybody knew Oscar as a professional and serious driver. Always had his eyes on the prize and nothing could get him out of his concentration. Although he was a rookie, he walked with confidence and broke down any wall that had blocked him in his career. But now, he looked like was completely changed: nervously scratching the back of his head as he was explaining something to the girl in front of him, probably mumbling and so on.

Near the exit, y/n stood with the racing driver. The Australian still waited for her answer although he knew she in fact didn’t drop it. She couldn’t have, because he was the one who took the penny out of his pocket and acted like someone dropped it. Just so he could have an excuse to talk to her. God, was he just an idiot.

“I didn’t, no.” Y/n said and smiled lightly. She found him attractive. Not like intimidating, more like he was comforting. He stood tall infront of her and she could smell his cologne. It was pleasant.

“Alright then, sorry.” Oscar looked at her and boy he was falling. Now having heard her voice, he was hooked. He never thought that love at first sight could happen to him, but here he was. Making a fool of himself.

“Maybe you should keep it. It gives you luck apparently.” She explained to the driver.

“Well I guess it already did. Otherwise I wouldn’t be talking to you.” He said without thinking. The girl blushed and smiled which made the butterflies in Oscar’s stomach erupt. Maybe he wasn’t that bad at flirting after all. “I’m Oscar.” He offered his hand.

“Y/n.” She shook his hand. Their hands fit perfectly. Perfect for them at least. The way her small hand stood in his big one. It was comfortable. And both of them could feel it. They eventually let go.

“That’s a very pretty name.” Oscar said and he was well aware of how blushed his cheeks were. So were hers. “So, are you enjoying the party?”

“I-it’s okay.” She chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

“Very convincing.” He laughed and y/n felt her knees go weaker at the sound of that. She wouldn’t mind hearing that more.

“I just don’t really know anyone here.” She confessed and felt a bit small. He must think she’s some kinda antisocial person. Which she was, to an extent.

“Well, now you know me.” The brunette smiled. “It’s not the best dinner party, but also not the worst. The music tho, horrible.”

“Right? It makes me want to sleep almost.” The two of them laughed and y/n felt comfortable for the first time that night.

The pair of them kept talking for a long time. In the mean time y/n had placed her clutch on the table, signaling that there’s no way she’s leaving. Although that was exactly her plan not that long ago. The talked about her studies, his career, where they both came from, and many many things. Before they knew it, people started leaving. Both of them acknowledged that the night had come to an end, though neither of them wanted to leave. But they had to.

“I had a really great time talking to you, y/n.” Oscar said as he escorted the girl out the place. He placed his hand on her lower back, not too low tho, no need to scare her away. Goosebumps ran through her whole body from the combination of his hand and the cold air. She didn’t want the night to end.

“I had too.” The girl answered and smiled up at the boy in front of her. As soon as they stepped out of the venue the cold hit them both. It was the middle of the night so it was no surprise.

Oscar still kept his hand on her back but the girl had turned to face him. They were close, not too close but close enough. “Can I see you again sometime?” He asked and felt his cheeks burning, luckily it was dark.

“I would love that.” Y/n smiled and felt like nothing would ever top this feeling. Oscar actually wanted to see her again. Like a date. They would meet again and talk just like they did before. Unbelievable yet true.

The wind was blowing, messing up the girl’s hair. It didn’t really bother her, she just wanted to freeze the moment. Stay like this forever, that’s what they both wanted to do.

A strand of hair had escaped her elegant bun and Oscar quickly noticed. He put the strand behind her ear and inhaled sharply. Both of their hearts were racing. He lightly caressed her cheeks lovingly and the girl felt the warmth of his fingertips on her face. It was truly magical, until.

Until someone shouted out y/n’s name. Both of them pulled away awkwardly and just stood there. Lily and Alex walked up to the girl, at first not noticing the McLaren driver.

“Oh thank God, you’re here.” Lily hugged y/n and she felt awkward as hell. “You didn’t answer your phone, I thought you left without us.”

“I was-“ she was cut off by Alex who was the first to notice that y/n was in fact not standing alone.

“Oscar?” The Williams driver furrowed his brows in confusion. Oscar just waved then shook his hand. It was all becoming too much. For y/n at least.

And then it hit Lily. The two were together. Of course they were. And they just disturbed them.

“Oh.” Lily looked at the two of them. “So we’re just gonna wait for you in the car. Whenever you’re ready.” She smiled and grabbed her boyfriend’s hand who was still very confused.

As soon as the pair left, y/n and Oscar bursted out laughing. What could have they done? The moment was gone anyway so why stress about it more?

“So listen.” Oscar started. “I would be really happy if you’d go on a date with me.” He came out with it clear and simple.

The girl nodded. “I would love to go on a date with you, Oscar.” God, his name sounded so good from her mouth. He wanted to hear that playing on loop in his head.

Y/n gave the tall boy her number and he promised to call very soon. Little did she know, he would text her that night telling her again how much fun he had. Both of them started heading against different cars, y/n having carpooled with Lily and Alex, while Oscar drove himself home.

“I promise we’ll finish what we started.”

[sunny44]

Business party

Pairing: Max Verstappen x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: couple fight.

Summary: The night of the company party has finally arrived and Y/n was super excited to introduce her boyfriend Max to her work friends but unfortunately the night doesn't end as she would have liked.

Next Chapter

It was the day of the party for the company you worked for, you were super excited to attend since you would formally introduce your boyfriend Mason to your friends but at the last minute, Mason decided that he is no longer going.

Finally the day had come.

I was super excited for this party and even more excited to officially introduce Mason to my friends from work.

He was away training but would arrive on time to get ready, meanwhile I was getting ready for the party.

After showering and washing my hair I dried it and did some curls and as I was finishing my makeup I heard the noise from downstairs.

I finished with my lipstick and went downstairs wrapped in my robe to find my boyfriend in the kitchen.

"Hi love." I smiled and gave him a kiss. "How was the simulator?"

"It was good, tiring but good."

"Are you going to shower now so we won't be late."

"Late for what?"

"For the party."

"Oh I'm not going to the party." Just as he says this I feel the sadness hit me.

"What do you mean you're not going? I warned you months ago and you promised you would go with me."

"I know but I changed my mind, I don't want to go anymore. I'm tired."

"But Max you promised and..."

"I'm not going, can you just leave me alone? I'm tired from the day and I don't feel like going to this stupid party." He says rudely, and I shut up.

"You always do this, when it's something important to you I have to support you and go to those stupid Redbull events, but when it's something important to me you let me down like I don't matter to you. I always prioritize you and support you in everything so why don't you do the same thing for me?"

"I never made you go."

"I go to support you, and as my boyfriend I expected you to do the same thing for me."

"I already said I'm not going."

"Then I'll go without you."

I went back to our room and put on my skirt and blouse, the one that I had bought just to match his tie. I grabbed a jacket and my purse, went downstairs and got the car key from the door.

"You don't have to wait for me, I'm not coming home."

I slammed the door behind me and headed for the party.

I had to hold back tears many times tonight just because all my friends were asking about Max and I had to lie saying that he couldn't come, I didn't have the heart to say that he let me down because he was tired.

"So where is the much talked boyfriend."

Stacy, for sure one of the people I wasn't the least bit interested in introducing Max to, she hates me for some reason unknown to me, it's always been that way since I joined the company.

"He couldn’t make it, he got tired of the simulator."

"Oh yeah, he's an F1 driver." She says wryly. "What's his name again? If he even exists."

"It's Max and I don't have to prove anything to you, if you'll excuse me."

I left there and went to the bar, I honestly had lost all excitement about the party, the reason I wanted to be there was an idiot with me. And once again that night I felt like crying.

“Are you ok?" My friend Kylie asks.

"Yeah, just bummed Max couldn't make it."

"I'm sorry, I know you really wanted to introduce him to us."

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter anymore." She smiled sadly and I took the last sip of my drink.

"Are you okay to drive later?" She says pointing to my drink.

"Yeah, not only is this night sucking, but I'm still drinking a non-alcoholic drink.” She laughs. "Actually, I’m going home.”

"Are you sure? We can still dance and have fun."

"Thanks for trying to cheer me up but I'm really not in the mood."

"All right, see you Monday."

"See you."

I didn't want to go home, I was mad at him and also because I said I wouldn't come back but my sister was traveling so I couldn't go to her apartment. When I arrived I left my heels on the door and locked up, went upstairs to our room and when I opened the door Max was lying down watching TV.

"Guess you weren’t so tired after all."

"Can we talk?"

"No, I’m too tired to talk." I said walking into the bathroom and locking the door.

I took off my dress and put on my pajamas, took off all my makeup and when I was done I left the bathroom taking my cell phone and walking to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not sleeping here."

"Baby I'm sorry I..."

"I don't want to hear your excuses Mex, when I wanted you to listen to me you didn't, so I'm not going to stay here and listen to your stupid excuses after you ruined my night." He doesn’t say nothing. "I honestly still don't know why I’m still trying."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't stand feeling like I'm the only one who values this relationship anymore. I'm tired of F1 always coming ahead of me in this relationship.”

"That's not true." He stands up.

"Then why didn't you go today? Oh yes because you were tired of driving an imaginary car in that stupid simulator." He still in silent. "I work just as hard as you do Max, but I've never let my work get in the way of our relationship. But I don't think you care about me as much as I care about you. So maybe we shouldn't be together.”

I wiped the tear that ran down my cheek and left the room, slamming the door and going to sleep from the guest room.

Maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername stories

“It suck’s that my night was ruined.”

This will have a part 2 so let me know if you want to be tagged

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

Stand at the Edge

Prologue- Next

Ao3

Damian was irritated. This was not uncommon, surrounded as he was by idiots, but today especially he was, as Todd would so eloquently put it, pissed. This was because, for reasons utterly unknown, Greyson had gone insane, obsessively cleaning the spotless mansion (until Pennyworth ordered him to stop) and incessantly bothering him about his appearance, all because of an interrogation. Why Father had decided to hold this particular interrogation within the Manor itself was yet another source of Damien’s irritation. Apparently, the suspect’s emotional involvement with Todd justified the clear risk posed by allowing this stranger into their home, despite the fact that all background checks and past interviews showed him to be a clear and dangerous unknown. If anything, Todd’s involvement with the suspect only increased the likelihood of this “Danny Nightengale” being a danger to the family. Damian did not believe that Todd was an irrational madman in constant need of supervision Father seemed to think he was, but he did not pretend the man did not pose a possible threat. There was also the possibility that Nightengale recognized how deeply compromised Farther was when it came to Todd and was using him to gain access to the family, be it as the Bats or the Waynes. If that was the case, then Damien was sure Father would not mind granting a temporary reprieval of the No-kill rule. For the family’s safety, that is. Not because he cared about Todd or any of his other siblings or their feelings, thank you.

The main area of concern surrounding Nightengale was not what they had learned, but what they hadn't. So far, he had avoided all interviews with concerning success. Furthermore, no family member had actually managed to get a photo of him. Attempts to look him up showed only that he was a student at Gotham University studying Astrophysics and Aerospace engineering, that he had a sister named Jazmine who worked as a counselor within Arkem, which was concerning within it's own right, and that he had lived with said sister until moving in with Todd three months ago. Footwork provided a few more details, such as that he worked at the Iceberg Lounge as part of the band playing the violin and that he seemed to have a number of pet birds, specifically ravens, though these birds seemed to come and go as they pleased. Neighbors reported that he was pleasant enough, though there were a number of noise complaints regarding both the birds and his apparent activity as an engineer. What was truly concerning was the total informational whiteout predating his arrival in Gotham. The transcript he had used to get into university was a forgery, as was his social security number, birth certificate, and driver's license. He had no social media presence of any sort and there was no one they could talk to who had any idea where he was from. The same went for his sister, they were both complete blanks. What was most interesting, at least according to Drake, was that the photo used on the fake driver's license looked to have been doctored, as if someone had taken an old photo and artificially aged it. None of them could think of a reason someone would need to do that.

“I still do not understand why we are bringing Todd and Nightengale here.”

Damien said, doing his best to tie his tie himself with mediocre success.

“Because,” Bruce explained, stepping in to help and rescue the tie from Damien’s increasingly frustrated attempts, “he is dating Jason, and as his family, we have every reason to want to meet him.”

Damien raised a brow. That seemed unusually irrational of Father. Perhaps the presence of Todd in the equation was interfering more than he had expected.

“Given how slippery he has proven in the past,” he continued “this is our best opportunity to engage him while minimizing both his suspicion and his likelihood to run. Furthermore, he is far more likely to be forthcoming than he would be if operating on his own turf. This gives us the upper hand more than if we attempted to meet him elsewhere.”

That was better. If there was one thing Damien appreciated about Father, it was his direct, analytical nature. Meanwhile, Greyson shouted something about needing to hide all of the chairs. Suddenly there was a knock at the front door, and a loud bang as Greyson tripped himself attempting to open it. Pennyworth, appearing suddenly at the door when Damian could have sworn he was in the kitchen, opened it before Greyson had a chance to right himself. Standing there was Todd and, assumedly, Nightengale. It suddenly occurred to Damian that he had never actually seen the man up close before. He was tall, with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes. He was thin as well, concerningly so, his joints sharp where the bones shone through. His skin was so pale, like freshly fallen snow or bleached bone. There was something terribly familiar about him, but so was probably any other pale man with black hair and blue eyes. As he grew closer, Damian noticed, snaking up Nightengale’s right arm and peaking up from the collar of his turtleneck, a Lichtenberg scar. Something in the back of his head stirred, but he couldn't think what it could possibly be. Greyson was shaking this man’s hand, offering some kind of greeting, but Damian couldn't hear it. Suddenly, Nightengale’s head snapped. Now he was looking right at Damian, his blue eyes boundless and staring as a grin stretched far wider across his face than should have been possible, wider even than the Joker and with teeth like a cat, sharp and predatory. He thought he maybe should have been frightened, though he wasn't sure why.

“Little Prince!”

Nightengale embraced Damian tightly, lifting him slightly off the ground. He wasn't sure how he had gotten so close so quickly. His skin was cold, but as comforting as an ice pack on an injury; the relief of a cold shower in the height of summer held in sharp and narrow arms. Something about this situation seemed wrong but he couldn't pin down just what it was.

“It's been so long! Look how big you’ve gotten. Ancients, the last time I saw you, you were just a shade!”

Wait. That was it.

“What do you mean, ‘last time’”

Damian willed his muscles to tense, his hands to clench into fists but they remained stubbornly relaxed.

“Dami, little light, ya sitti, don't you remember me?”

Nightengale gently set Damian and for a second he was blinded as the man was wreathed in rings of light bright as the sun. When the light faded the man had... changed. The most obvious shift was his hair, once black and now so blindingly white that it made his face shadowy and difficult to see, as well as luminescent, Lazarus green eyes, the sclera black as night. Rather than the simple black turtle neck and slacks he had come in, he was now wearing a black hazmat suit with a white belt holding what looked like an old-fashioned radio and, oddly, a thermos. He had white gloves, though they became sharp and claw-like at the tips. There were other, more subtle changes, such as how his skin grew grey, like someone who had been dead for hours, and the faint glow of the fractal Lichtenburg just visible through the suit. Damian became aware suddenly of pressure that had been building in his ears and only just released.

“No.”

“Oh...” the Man, he was not Nightengale, seemed to deflate.

“No... I... It's not... You can not.”

Damien was faintly aware that he was not making sense, but seeing that this made two of them, he felt little need to correct it. Finally, enough of his brain cells managed to collide for him to form a sentence.

“What are you doing here?”

“Damien,” Father said, careful to insert himself between his son and whoever, whatever, was floating just slightly off the ground before them, “who is this? How do you know him?”

“His name is Phantom. When I was a child, I would make up stories about him and the strange land he ruled.”

Hearing his name, Phantom smiled a much smaller, more hesitant smile than his Joker-esque grin from before. He waved slightly. Meanwhile, Father looked as if he were about to have an aneurysm. Looking about, that seemed to be the consensus amongst the onlookers, albeit Todd who laughed. Hard.

Tag Cultists

@mur-ururu @krzys2000 @soren1830 @fisticuffsatapplebees @emergentpanda-blog @heirxofxtime

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 4)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.4k words

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, no foreplay or lube (because it's fiction), mentions of being cheated on, pining and some angst, Keeley is determined to get Roy laid

@agentstarkid is always the best at letting me ramble and plan ❤️

Series Masterlist

Wednesday morning, Roy stood on the pitch, watching the Greyhounds amble out of the tunnel for training. He snuck a glance at his phone; still no new messages. He thought back to that morning in your bed. Yeah, he’d put in his number on your phone correctly, he was sure of it. You’d had a good time that night. You definitely came- multiple times, in fact. And you looked almost disappointed when he had to leave to be a responsible baby-sitter for his idiot team.

So why the fuck hadn’t you texted him?

“Mornin’, Coach!” Jamie chirped, his stupid pink headband giving Roy a headache. “Alright?”

Before Roy could open his mouth for some expletive-laced response, the mobile in his hand buzzed. Unable to help himself, he quickly opened the incoming message.

There you were.

Gorgeous as ever in a dark pair of leggings and a Ferrari t-shirt, you leaned against your beautiful car, cocky grin and mischievous eyes threatening to give Roy a hardon. The attached message made things worse:

She’s purring 😼

“Whoa there, Grandad.”

Realizing that Jamie was still over his shoulder, Roy stuffed his phone into his pocket with a scowl. “Go get warmed up, Tartt.”

Jamie’s eyes were bright with amusement. “You made her purr?” he scoffed. “The fuck did you do to her, Roy? And please, draw me a diagram or some shit.”

Roy’s face was bright red; whether from annoyance, embarrassment, or arousal he wasn’t quite sure. “Her fucking car,” he muttered.

“You fucked her in her racecar?” Jamie looked like a child who’d been visited by Father Christmas. “You are a god, Roy Kent-”

Roy threw his head back with a loud groan. “She’s talking about her car,” he barked. “Purring means it sounds good or whatever.” He pointed towards the pitch. “Now fucking go on before I have you tie a string around your prick again and give the other end to the mascot.”

With Jamie still laughing but finally gone, Roy snuck another glance at his phone, that horny little voice in his head telling him not to care if he popped a boner in front of the whole team. To his surprise, there was already another text waiting for him.

The car, I mean. You’ll have to make something else purr yourself, Kent.

Fuck. He bit his lip and tucked his phone away, wondering how the hell he was going to focus on training, or anything really, after reading that text.

You were going to be the death of him.

~

Eying Roy carefully over her salad, Keeley opened her mouth. “So how was your night with the Empress?” Her deepened, teasing voice had Roy scowling.

“Fuck are you on about?” He narrowed his eyes at the blonde who was perched on his desk after insisting they have lunch together. “I walked her to the hotel, apologized for the way the guys were all over, and went the fuck to bed. It was well past my bedtime.” He took a particularly aggressive bite of his own salad.

“Well, that’s disappointing.” Keeley pouted. “I think someone like you’d be good for her.”

Roy sighed and slammed his salad onto his desk. This conversation clearly wasn’t ending anytime soon. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

A moment passed in silence as Keeley pursed her lips and studied Roy’s sullen face. “Well… about a year ago she had this beautiful, vile boyfriend. A model. Built like a Greek god or something. They were very hot and heavy, very public, for about three years. Aaaaaand he cheated on her. Quite publicly.” Keeley’s expression was heavy with sympathy. “Ever since, she hasn’t been seen with the same guy for more than two weeks.”

Color flooded Roy’s face. “And why the fuck d’you think I’d be good for her or whatever?”

Keeley reached out and touched Roy’s cheek, smugly noting how unusually warm it felt. “You’re a good guy, Roy. A damn good boyfriend. Probably the best one I ever had.” She shrugged and withdrew her hand. “She could use some of that.”

Roy stared at his salad. No wonder you were keeping him at arm’s length, leaving things up in the air about seeing each other again. He was just another fun time you were using to help you get over some other prick.

He hated how badly he wanted to let you use him.

“Who the fuck did he cheat with anyway?” Roy spat, ignoring the knots in his stomach. “Liz Hurly in the 90s?” His mouth moved ahead of his brain. “Because I can’t think of anyone who’d be worth losing- I mean, she’s just so fucking badass and gorgeous-”

“That, that right there!” Keeley lit up, pointing at Roy’s red face with her fork. “That’s why I think you’d be so nice for her. Look at you, already gushing over her. It’s kind of cute.” She tilted her head, reminding Roy of the poodle his great-aunt Natalie used to keep. “And I think it’s mutual,” she added slowly. “The couple of times you two’ve been in the same room, it’s obvious. There’s an attraction there. And I mean, you’re both legends in your sport, you’re both fit, you’re both full of white-hot passion-”

Roy rolled his eyes. “You trying to set me up on a date, or are you trying to cast a commercial?”

Keeley grinned. “Alright but think about how hot the two of you would look in a magazine- The Empress and the Greyhound.”

Pretending he didn’t love the sound of that, Roy picked a piece of shredded carrot out of his salad and tossed it at Keeley’s open mouth. “Eat your fucking lunch.”

~

You probably weren’t supposed to be in this hallway. You had promised to meet Keeley and Rebecca in the owner’s box, fully intent on drinking your weight in champagne while cheering on the Greyhounds. But you found yourself wandering down an empty hallway, wondering which way it was to the changing rooms, despite your inner voice scolding you about how you were getting far too comfortable with finding Roy Kent in your bed and reminding you not to start any bad habits with that gorgeous man who you had texted far too often this week.

“Oi.”

Heart skipping a beat, you turned around. All thoughts of not hooking up with Roy Kent again were immediately silenced when you caught sight of those trackpants, already starting to look tight as he quirked an eyebrow at you. It was kind of stupid of you to think you’d be able see him without your thoughts turning dirty, because there you were, face to face with the man and practically drooling in more ways than one.

“Roy Kent,” you greeted, at least appearing cool with your little smirk.

Roy’s eyes scanned your body slowly, unabashedly, taking in your tight red pants and low-cut tank top, all the way up to your Ferrari cap. Almost as if he knew you’d picked out this outfit hoping he’d see it. “Thought you were supposed to give me a heads up next time.”

You shrugged as you closed the distance between the two of you, barely resisting the urge to totally press your body to his. “Wasn’t sure if I’d see you this trip,” you admitted.

“What, already tired of sharing your hotel whiskey with me?” Despite his teasing voice, his furrowed eyebrows exposed his disappointment.

That sweet disappointment had you tugging at his open jacket with a little pout. “No hotel whiskey this time,” you purred. “Only here for the afternoon. I’m flying out after the match.”

“What’s with the quick turnaround?”

You smiled, wishing you could reach up and ease the wrinkle between his brows, instead choosing to use your grip on his jacket to tug him a smidge closer. “I was just here to meet with Rebecca. Keeley heard someone was selling a few shares, and Becca’s hoping I’ll scoop them up. She’s wining and dining me during the match today.”

His confidence returned, a smirk forming on those lips you wanted to feel on every inch of your body. “What, you think if you become an owner, you can boss me around?”

Completely ignoring that gnawing feeling deep in your gut telling you to turn around, to walk away from this beautiful man and find a less secluded hallway, you giggled and let one hand wander to his bicep. “Roy Kent, I don’t need to be an owner to tell you what to do.”

“Oh really?” His eyes darkened as he took another look up and down your body, lingering on all of his favorite parts. “Prove it.”

You stood on tiptoe, bringing your lips to his ear, savoring his shiver as you whispered, “Fuck me.”

In no time his hand was scandalously low on your back as he steered you to a nearby door, practically shoving you inside. Once the door was closed and locked behind you, Roy set to work making sure the boot room was empty- no Will Kitman hiding in some corner, too scared to move from his post- locking every door and shutting every set of blinds he could find. Roy Kent was a rather selfish man when it came to you; he wanted the delicious sounds of your moans and whimpers all to himself.

Satisfied that the two of you had the most privacy possible in a stadium packed with athletes, fans, and the press, Roy pulled you to himself, roughly pressing his mouth to yours, wasting no time before sliding his tongue inside. Somewhere in the kiss, your cap fell to the floor. Sighing into his open mouth, you wrapped your arms around his neck, wondering how you ever thought you’d be able to come to Nelson Road and resist him when he on his home turf.

He walked you backwards until your back hit a counter and let his hands wander down to the button of your red jeans. “Don’t have much time,” he mumbled, lips roving to your jaw. “Gotta be quick, alright?”

Eyes fluttering shut, you nodded, desperate for anything he’d give you. “Quick,” you breathed, already feeling yourself turn to putty under his rough hands.

Roy made quick work of your jeans, tugging them down your ankles, along with the pretty panties you’d picked just for him. Eyes on your glistening sex, he wiggled down his trackpants, revealing how hard he already was. Gripping your hips, he helped you hop onto the counter, where you spread your legs for him. He pressed his forehead to yours as he slowly slid himself into your entrance, bringing himself to a stop at the first whine that slipped past your lips.

“I know,” he cooed, bringing down one hand to soothingly rub your clit as he resumed inching into you. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well, taking me so fucking well.”

Your breath caught in your throat, this time from his words more than the burning feeling of his cock stretching you. Baby. You hated when men called you that, men who hadn’t been around long enough to call you such a sweet, gentle name. It was an instant turn-off. Too loving, too intimate.

But when Roy Kent said it? It sounded like heaven.

The feeling of him filling you up brought your thoughts back to the moment. He froze, letting you have a moment to get used to the sensation- as if you could ever get used to being fucked by Roy Kent.  You wrapped your legs around his waist and brought your lips to his, letting your rough kiss give him permission to move again.

He started with slow, dragging strokes, watching your face with an intense gaze as you gripped his arms. You threw your head back against the wall, the pain giving way to familiar pleasure, especially with the way Roy expertly massaged your clit.

Feeling the needy way your cunt clenched around him, Roy picked up his pace, roughly thrusting into you. When a loud moan escaped your lips, he instinctively brought his free hand to your mouth, shaking his head.

“Gotta keep quiet, baby,” he growled. He could practically feel your pussy throb at the word. “Think you could do that for me?” When you nodded, he removed his hand and brought it to your clothed breast, squeezing it roughly through your top. “Good girl.”

Fuck. Was he trying to make you moan again?

Desperate for something to occupy your mouth, you latched your lips to his jaw, pressing slobbery kisses there as Roy drove into you, biting his lower lip to hold in his own moans. When his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside you, you whined against his skin and began sucking on the spot. Part of you scolded yourself; you were definitely going to leave a mark on his jaw. But the part of you that was drunk off of Roy’s cock hoped you left him with a reminder of this romp.

His garbled moan told you that he was close, so fucking close. Determined to be a gentleman, he quickened his strokes on your clit, bringing his free hand to your hip to attempt to hold you as still as possible so he could absolutely pound into you.

“Roy,” you whimpered against his jaw as that coil in your tummy wound tighter and tighter. You felt yourself start to spasm around his cock.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” he whispered, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Come for me, baby. Fucking come for me. I need it. Need you.”

His words made you snap. You gripped his biceps as if your life depended on it, and your teeth sunk into that spot on his jaw you’d been sucking to muffle the moan you felt sure the entire building could hear. He fucked you through your orgasm, wishing more than anything that he had time to make you come over and over again instead of having to savor this one like the treasure it was.

Your body spasmed beautifully against his until you looked up at him through your eyelashes, eyes glossy, completely fucked out. The sight only had him pounding harder, determined to give you something to remember him by before the two of you parted ways.

“Fuck,” he hissed, releasing your clit so he could grab your face and tilt it towards his. “Want me to fucking come for you?”

All you could do was nod and capture his lips with yours, your kiss sloppy and wet, tongues wrestling, teeth knocking carelessly. Your legs pulled him deeper, your fucked out mind desperate for him to fill you up.

Finally regaining some control of your still very horny mind, you brought your lips to his ear. “Roy,” you cooed, giving a little nibble to his lobe. “Come for me, baby.”

That fucking did it.

Roy’s whole body jerked as his cock spasmed and emptied inside you, your name softly falling from his lips like it was the only word he knew. Your eyes rolled back at the overstimulation, grateful that you were sitting because your knees were beyond weak, even weaker than your resolve had been when you’d first laid eyes on Roy in the hallway.

It felt much too soon when the two of you collapsed in each other’s arms, panting quietly. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, intoxicated by the scent of sex and Roy; fuck you wished you were staying in Richmond tonight. But the part of you that knew you were starting to get needy for Roy Kent was grateful you were leaving as soon as the match ended. This was getting far too easy.

With a quiet groan, Roy pulled out of you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, almost as an apology for having to rush things. As much as he needed to be inside you, he regretted that it was so sloppy, so hasty. If there was anything he wanted to take his time with, it was you.

He offered you his hand and helped you off the counter, which you couldn’t bring yourself to look at, fearful that you’d left a puddle behind. The two of you quickly fixed yourselves, pulling up pants and fixing hair. Roy bent down and picked up your hat, handing it to you with an almost bashful look on his flushed face.

“That was…” He raised his eyebrows, question marks in his eyes.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you put your hat back on, grateful that it would hide some of the mess Roy had made of your hair. “Yeah.” You ran your hands down your body, smoothing out your clothes. Fuck, you felt ready to pass out. Or ready to ask Roy to fill you up again.

“C’mere.” Roy grabbed your hand and pulled you to himself, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You better stay overnight next time,” he murmured, his thumb stroking a small piece of your exposed skin. “Because I want to take my time with you, got it?” He kissed your lips deeply. “Fucking Empress deserves to be treated properly.”

If the fucking hadn’t weakened your knees, Roy’s words sure would have. All you could do was kiss him back, wishing you had more time and wishing that you weren’t wishing that. Roy Kent had a reputation. Models, actresses, an heiress or two. And now, thanks to you, he could add F1 Driver to his resumé. Back at Silverstone, you figured he’d be fun, another nice little distraction, good for the weekend and maybe another hookup in Richmond if you ever came to a match. You’d promised yourself you weren’t stupid enough to actually fall for the footballer whose Chelsea kit still hung in the back of your closet somewhere.

But you also weren’t expecting those brown eyes to have that look as he gazed down at you.

“I better go,” you murmured, equally desperate to stay and get as far away as possible. “Becca and Keeley’ll be sending a search party soon.”

“Right.” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “Enjoy the match, yeah?”

You offered him a ghost of a smile as you tiptoed out of the boot room, trying to look as if you were supposed to be there, not that you’d snuck in for a quick fuck with the manager.

As you strode down the hall, walking quickly to get to the owners’ box before the girls could begin to wonder where you were, it dawned on you. This being a quick trip, you had no change of clothes. Meaning you were now stuck with a soaking pair of panties that would slowly fill with everything Roy had just given you. As annoyed as part of you was, knowing it was going to be an uncomfortable as hell football match and flight, some dirty little part of you couldn’t help but feel turned on at the thought.

Fuck. You liked shagging Roy Kent a lot more than you should.

Taglist: @hotdoglamp @daydreamgoddess14 @klaine-92 @gibby31 @anonurs @taytaylala12 @unholyhuntress @thatonedogwithablog @seacactusplant @e-mmygrey @jane-dough

[meownotgood]

devilish. / hayakawa aki x fem!reader, strip tease, kissing scene, slight exhibitionism, slight dubcon (both reader and aki are drunk), reader wears a feminine devil costume, suggestive content, minors dni. word count: 2.2k

You were hoping Aki would show up tonight. 

Honestly, you have to admit you weren't expecting it. He's never seemed like the type to enjoy this kind of scene: people yelling and getting wasted, loud, obscene music blaring. The biggest Halloween party in Tokyo was the last place you'd expect to see someone as reserved and uptight as him, but yet, here he is, just as you wanted, and just as you planned. 

When you were mingling amongst the crowd, you're certain you saw his two idiot roommates partying with the rest — If anything, he probably just came to be their designated driver. Or, so you thought, anyways, because once you approached Aki on the balcony, it was clear to see that he was fucking plastered. 

Since you couldn't find him partying, you were sure he'd be hanging out here. As soon as you step outside, the bare skin on your arms is met with the cool fall breeze, making your hair stand on end. You slide the balcony door closed behind you, muffling the sounds of the party and the music, leaving only the strong bass able to be heard. Then, you approach him, leaning your arms over the railing. Aki has his whole weight rested against it, carefully nursing a cigarette. His eyes dart up towards you, and when they do, his gaze immediately widens. 

"And you're dressed as…" You give him a once-over, cocking a teasing eyebrow. He's wearing his usual uniform: his dress shirt, unbuttoned a little at the top, with his loose tie still hung around his collar. He has the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and his hair remains in his usual neat topknot. "Yourself?" 

Aki's fumbling over his words when he tries to speak — It's uh- didn't have time so… didn't have the time, y'know. They just dragged me here- roommates, I mean. He's practically slurring, his body wobbling when he takes his hand off the railing to pull his cigarette from his mouth. You're not even standing super close to him, but you can still smell the alcohol on his breath, the scent lingering on his clothes. He looks at you through heavy eyelids, and you're not sure if he just doesn't care or if he doesn't even realize he's doing it, but he never takes his eyes off of you. 

When you don't speak for a while, Aki flicks his cigarette and awkwardly comments, "But- but you look good. Really good. A devil suits you." 

It's impossible to fight the playful smile that grows on your face. 

You're wearing a sexy devil costume: red horns atop your head, a red dress with a frilly skirt, and tight, red thigh-highs. It's slim fitting and hugs your body nicely, the dress hugging the curves of your waist and your chest, the fat of your thighs spilling out of the hem of the socks. You've caught at least ten guys staring at you since you arrived, but you didn't pay any of them a second glance. There's only one person you wore this outfit for tonight. 

You were going to wear this outfit anyways, but when you purchased it, you couldn't help but think of him. As you put it on before the party tonight, admiring yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but imagine no-one but Aki. You've got to say, his reaction so far did not disappoint. 

You snicker, and reply, "Oh? You think so? Hm," You place a finger to your chin, exaggerating a lost-in-thought sort of expression, "So if I'm dressed as a devil, that'd make you the devil hunter?" 

Aki takes another lazy drag out of his cigarette, tilting his head upwards to exhale the smoke into the star-speckled sky. "Yeah, I suppose it does." 

You scooch a little closer to him, until your elbows are touching. Aki doesn't seem to notice. "Well," You peer up at him through your eyelashes, "I'm glad you like it. I was hoping you would." 

"Really?" Aki turns to you for a brief moment, and in the dim light, you swear you can see his cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink. When you lock eyes, he looks away almost as instantly as he looked towards you, his gaze focused on the idle traffic below as he stamps his cigarette out on the railing. 

Before he realizes what he's about to say, he's blurting out, "You wear it for me?" 

You chuckle, and Aki looks up at you again, his eyes wide. "No, no, wait- that's… fuck," He stammers, rubbing his temple when he begins to lose his train of thought, "Sorry, I'm super drunk, I'm not… Can't think straight." 

With an exasperated sigh, Aki flicks his spent cigarette to the ground. In the corner of his eye, he can see you; there's an expression on your face that he can't pinpoint, something nearly unreadable, but with a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of your cheeks. Something about the way you're eyeing him makes his heart pound faster, a prickle of anticipation twisting up his spine. 

"It's fine," You say with a shrug, "I've had a couple of drinks, too." 

Aki takes a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart. A car horn honks when stray party-goers run across the street without looking both ways. You lean in a little closer to him, but Aki doesn't notice until your voice comes out as a whisper, right into his ear. 

"You weren't wrong, but," You cup your hand, leaning in more, the ghost of your warm breath fanning out over his skin, "There's something else I'm wearing, and that one's just for you." 

Aki stalls for a moment. When you pull back, you can see the gears in his head turning, his eyes narrowing as he thinks, the puzzle pieces taking a second to click in his drunken brain. But when he gets it, oh, when he gets it, the way his expression instantly changes is priceless. 

In a quiet voice, your tone ever teasing, you mutter, "You wanna see?" 

"I-" Aki turns towards you; his gaze flickers over your outfit for what must be the hundredth time, but now, it seems a little different. Now, he's examining you with a certain kind of curiosity, a certain sense of desire. His throat feels dry, so he swallows before he speaks again. "Yeah. I do." 

You take a couple of steps away from him, turning so that your back is facing the balcony door. This way, Aki will be the only one to see what you're about to do. 

Aki watches intently as you reach around, grasping the zipper that hides on the back of your dress. He can hear the quiet sound of the zipper being drug down, your eyes locked on his the whole time. When you begin shrugging the dress off your shoulders, he draws his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down. 

You pull it down just enough to show him the dip of your collarbones, and give him a peek of the straps of your bra: bright, vivid red. Certainly enough to make his imagination start to run wild. 

As if on queue, Aki asks shakily, "Can you show me some more?"

You smirk. "Anything for you, devil hunter." 

And you do: you slowly drag the dress down to just above your stomach, gripping it tightly to make sure it won't fall down any further. Aki's breath hitches the second he catches sight of your lacy red bra.

It's gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. It fits your body so well, a spectacle of ornate lace and frills, your breasts spilling out of the top. You look lovely. Aki's hands clench on the railing, and his eyes dart up to the door, making sure no-one else is watching. If you wore this just for him, he wants to make sure he's the only one to see it. 

"I- Wow. You're beautiful." Aki exhales a shaky, trembling breath. "Was this really just for me?" 

You flash him a soft smile. "Yeah. I've been waiting for you to come all night, Aki." 

Aki takes a small step forwards, and when he begins to wobble, he places a hand solidly on your shoulder to keep himself from falling. "Sorry. Is it alright if I touch you?" 

"Of course." You nod, and begin tugging your dress back up, slipping your arms through the short sleeves. "I'm putting this back on though, it's freezing out here."

Aki holds your shoulder, reaching around with his free hand to grab the zipper on the back of your dress — Here, let me help you. He tugs it up, his tall frame leant over yours, his body so close. You rest your weight against his chest when you start to stumble as well, your face buried in his shirt, your arms wrapped around his back. You listen to his heart as it pounds in his chest, beating to a steady, eager rhythm.

When he's done, Aki glides his palm over your shoulder, his fingertips tracing absentminded shapes onto your bare collarbone. He mutters quietly, voice smooth and deep, "You're the most gorgeous devil I've ever seen." 

You lift your head up. Aki looks down, meeting your eyes. You reply, "That wasn't all of it, y'know. There's more I wanted to show you, just can't do it here." 

"Oh?" Aki grasps your chin, tilting you up slightly more. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, toying with it. "When do I get to see that?" 

You glance towards the party for a moment. There's still a lot of people mingling about, but nowhere near as much as before. You explored the whole apartment earlier. There's one place you know of where the two of you could get a little privacy. 

A brief look of disappointment dawns on Aki's face when you pull apart from him, but it's quickly replaced by a spark of curiosity when you grab his hand and instruct, "Come with me." 

You lead him back inside, shouldering through the crowds of lingering people. He follows you all the way upstairs, and after you've checked to make sure it's empty, you push him into the nearest bathroom, shutting the door behind you. Aki's heart skips a beat when he sees you promptly flick the lock. 

"We should be alone here." 

You turn back towards him, and Aki carefully grabs your waist. The bathroom door shifts when he gently presses you against it.

He's close, really close — You can hear the sound of his breathing, examine every detail of his face. His lips are parted, his earrings glint in the low light, and the deep blue of his eyes draws you in, as if his gaze alone would be enough to swallow you whole. 

After a few moments he slurs, "You're beautiful." His cheeks are flushed red from a mixture of his drunkenness and embarrassment, and his hands squeeze your waist, his thumbs toying with the frills on your dress. "I was hoping I'd see you here too. It was the only reason why I let myself be dragged here." 

You wrap your arms around his neck, your hands clasped together. "I'm glad we managed to find each other, then."

Aki's gaze flickers from your eyes, down to your lips. An enveloping heat rises in his chest, his stomach twists into a tight knot. The twofold echo of your breathing and his seems to drown out the sounds of the party happening downstairs, and the alcohol in his veins, the closeness of your body, your warmth — It puts his mind in a haze, until he can't think, can't muster up anything to say besides-

"I want to kiss you." 

This time, he doesn't try to take it back. He stays as close as he is, and when your response comes swiftly — Then, why don't you? — he's finally lost himself to you, with no escape in sight.

Oh, he will. Aki cups your jaw, his hand trembling ever so slightly. He drags you in slowly, his head tilting, eyes fluttering shut. His lips feel soft when they connect with yours, a bit hesitant, and with your arms around his neck, you pull him in, encouraging him to kiss you deeper.

He kisses you once, then pulls you in for a second, a third; his hands travel up and down your body, palms cold from the balcony railing. You shiver when you feel his hands glide across your bare thighs, fingers toying with the hem of your socks, but you still arch into his delicate touch. Everything is clumsy from the drunkenness, your noses bumping, lips meeting when they manage to — And when they can't, he's placing kisses on your cheeks, your forehead, over the creases of your mouth. 

He mumbles quietly between every one, incoherent babbles of his thoughts: Pretty. So pretty. You're perfect. All for me. My pretty little devil.

You're both out of breath when he finally pulls back. Aki's heart drums hard in his chest, his pupils blown wide, his cheeks warm to the touch when you hold them in your hands.

In a voice barely more than a whisper, Aki says, "You're fun to kiss." 

You chuckle half-heartedly, pinching his cheeks, "I know, but you still want me to show you more, right? Isn't that what we came here for?"

"Yes, I do," Aki sighs deeply, a warm smile forming on his face. "Please." 

[rambheem-is-real]

Ee Varsham Sakshiga [With the Rain as Our Witness]

My submission for #varadevaloveday!

On the way back from Vedha's housewarming party, Deva and Varadha run into a storm. They take shelter in a hut, and Varadha suggests Truth or Dare. Which is a terrible game to play when you've been pining over your best friend for more than two decades.

Or: Modern AU Varadeva

-

“If you’re tired, go to sleep, raa,” Deva tells Varadha, breaking the sound of raindrops hitting the windshield of their rental car. 

Damn, Varadha thinks. 

Was Varadha tired? Yes. Was he actually pretending to be sleeping so he could ogle the other man? Also yes. Now he could either deny it, forcing himself to stay awake when his eyes probably wouldn’t stay open after the next few minutes and look like an idiot, or he could actually go to sleep, missing out on the wonderful sight of Deva driving. The angle at which he lifted the arm closest to Varadha as he steered was enough to ensure Varadha could see the muscle hidden beneath Deva’s dress shirt, a rare article of clothing for someone who usually preferred ratty T-shirts or tank tops. Deva had complained about it, of course. 

“Why the fuck were these torture devices invented?” Deva had snapped, fed up with being unable to fasten the tie to his neck. Varadha, already dressed up, had just laughed at him. 

“How are you, at your big age, unable to tie a tie?”

Deva just pouted, eyes pleading. And how could Varadha resist that? 

He had obliged, sliding off his perch on Deva’s desk to help him. Varadha’s fingers had felt like they were touching a live wire with every brush of his fingers against Deva’s neck, and the scent of Deva’s cologne so close hadn’t helped matters. 

“There, now you won’t look like a hobo at Vedha’s housewarming party,” Varadha jokes. 

“Vedha dresses just like me,” Deva complains. 

“Not today, he won’t.” 

Varadha had been right, all of their friends had shown up wearing some of their best. Not as fancy as the suits they had been wearing for the wedding a few months ago, but still classy. 

Now, the tie had been loosened, laying around his neck in a way that had Varadha imagining different circumstances. It did nothing to conceal the way the first few buttons on Deva’s shirt had been loosened, exposing Deva’s chest. Hence, the secret ogling. Varadha pushes down the instinctive fear that Deva had realized what was going on, that he had somehow found out about Varadha’s feelings. If Deva hadn’t realized in the last thirty years they had known each other, he damn well wasn’t figuring it out now. 

“Alright,” Varadha sighs. “My wonderful driver, wake me up when we get to your home.”

Varadha closes his eyes and leans onto the window, smiling at the chuckle he hears. The sound is more of a deep rumble with Deva’s voice, and it’s heavenly. Still smiling, Varadha lets thoughts of Deva lull him into sleep. 

-

The sound of the wipers furiously scrubbing the windshield breaks Varadha out of his nap. He opens his eyes to see a blur of water droplets and vague images of the road ahead of them. 

“Arey, em kanipisthundi ra neeku? [Dude, what can you see?]” He scoffs. “The rain’s gotten so much worse.”

Deva grits his teeth. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.” Varadha makes an incredulous sound, drawing Deva’s attention. He can see Deva briefly turn to him out of the corner of his eyes, and his tone softens. “Really, raa. It’s fine; it’s a straight road until we reach the state border. By that time the rain’s probably gonna be better.”

“You don’t know that-” Varadha gasps in the middle of his sentence. “DEER!”

Deva swerves on the wheel, slamming the breaks. They narrowly miss the brown creature annoyingly parked in the middle of the fucking road, and the action sends them hydroplaning onto the other lane where they stop. 

Varadha takes a second to calm himself, and Deva quickly turns to Varadha to scan him for injuries. They hadn’t even hit the deer, for fuck’s sake, but something in Varadha warms to see Deva being protective over him. However, the warmth won’t stop him from teasing the other man. After all, it was one of his favorite activities. 

“What are you looking at? Koncham road atu pothene gaayalosthaya?  [Just because we went a little bit out of the lane will I suddenly have injuries?]”

Seemingly satisfied with his scan, Deva just rolls his eyes. “Ah? Rani gariki antha sukhamgane unda ani, check chesthunna [Just checking to see if Her Majesty is still comfortable].” 

Varadha half-heartedly smacks Deva’s arm, before his eyes land on the dashboard GPS. 

“Rey, there’s no signal here,” he points out. 

Deva starts the car, pulling it into first gear. “I don’t need a GPS to tell me where to go.”

“Mahanubhavuda [Oh great man],” Varadha says, folding his hands sarcastically, “You can do whatever you want when you’re by yourself. Me personally, I don’t want to get lost outside in this rain. Stop by the side of the road. Let’s wait for the GPS to figure its shit out.” 

“I told you already, it’ll be fine-” Deva’s interrupted by the sound of the tires hitting a pothole, and they both wince as they jolt in their seats. 

Varadha scans what he can see of the road, and finds a small hut coming up by the side, a few feet in. 

“Rey, rey, rey, there’s something there, stop!” He taps Deva’s arm in succession. “We can wait out the storm.”

Deva sighs but acquiesces. He pulls over to the side, in front of the structure, which looks more like a hut now that Varadha can get a less blurry look at it. Deva turns to look at Varadha, giving him a happy now? look. 

Varadha just grins at him. For all his teasing, for all his insults, Deva would agree to do anything Varadha asked of him when the time came. Varadha slowly curls his hand around the door handle. 

“Last one to the hut pays for gas!” He barely finishes before he gets out. The rain pelts his back as he lifts a hand above his head, trying and failing to keep his hair dry. Varadha hears an indignant shout and a “Vara!” muffled behind him, and suppresses the giggle that wants to climb out of him as he enters the hut. 

First, he thinks smugly as he observes the interior. Never mind that he had had the advantage there. Not like Deva hadn’t ever pulled some shit like this before. Tom and Jerry, Deva’s mom had lovingly called them as kids when they wouldn’t stop fighting when Varadha came over. Only she had realized that behind each prank, behind each childish insult, was a deep bond of love, and that fighting with each other was just the way they expressed their affection. They could go from happily playing with toys, to getting into a wrestling match, to guiltily soothing each other, all within the span of a few minutes. 

Varadha briefly spares a thought to the fact that Atha [aunt/mother-in-law] might be worried that they hadn’t come back home yet. There was nothing to do now, though. A quick glance at his phone shows no bars, just as he had expected. He and Deva would just have to apologize once they got to his home. 

Deva runs in a second later, almost knocking Varadha over. He frowns as he examines what he can see of the cramped space they’re now in. Varadha pulls on the wire near his face, and is rewarded with a flickering, weak light above their heads. Now that they can see better, it’s clear the hut wasn’t meant for someone to live in. Neither of them would be able to lie down flat on the floor, the rounded walls would prevent that. 

“Rey Vara-” 

Oh, Varadha can’t take that tone. That gentle, you deserve so much better tone. He sits down fully, resting his back to the wall, before Deva finishes. He glares up at Deva, still standing, who just looks exasperated. 

“I’m fine,” Varadha stresses, and what a reversal that is. 

Deva hesitates for a few more seconds before he gives up and joins him, sitting across so their calves touch. 

Varadha hates these moments. He loves now living with Deva and Atha, and being able to be around Deva more. If he has to adjust to living less lavishly than he had growing up, that’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make. 

Deva doesn’t see it that way, though. Every time Varadha’s had to eat leftover rice, take public transportation, stand in the hot sun for more than a few minutes, he gets this look on his face, some combination of guilt and anger, the latter emotion only for Varadha’s ex-family, of course. It never seems to get into his head that Varadha’s fine with this, that he’s not so soft as to consider any of these more than minor inconveniences. Deva had been both elated and sad to hear that Varadha and Baachi had left the Mannars. 

Elated because he had been there for all of the times Varadha’s family had humiliated, hurt, and insulted them, all for the crime of being born to a different mother. It had been Varadha who had kept Deva from trying to get back at his siblings numerous times for the shit they had put him through. Sad, because it meant Varadha was leaving his comfortable life with his wealthy family, to come tough it out inside Deva’s apartment, which was barely big enough for Deva and Atha by themselves. 

Well, the Raisans being in that situation was Raja Mannar’s fault in the first place, but Varadha was genuinely happy to live with Deva, and his decision had nothing to do with his separate secondhand guilt for the way Deva and Atha had to live their lives as he grew up with all of his basic needs automatically taken care of. Baachi had figured out a roommate situation with his own boyfriend, Rinda, and Varadha had begrudgingly accepted, not before attempting a shovel talk (successful, Rinda looked terrified) and a lecture on using protection (unsuccessful, Baachi had all but shoved him out the door after that).

Fuck. Now they’re both upset, and there’s a storm raging outside. Varadha can hear faint thunder in the distance, and he knows with their luck the storm will pass right over them. 

He tries to think of something that’ll lighten the mood, something to do to pass the time. Varadha nudges Deva’s foot with his own, to get Deva’s attention. He had been staring morosely at the ground, but he looks up to meet Varadha’s eyes. 

“Truth or dare?” Varadha asks. 

Deva just raises an eyebrow, and Varadha flushes. 

“I don’t see you coming up with something. Either figure something out or answer the question,” Varadha demands. 

Deva sighs. “Sare [Ok], raa. Dare.”

Varadha looks around the hut. What the fuck could he even dare Deva to do here? 

Deva seems to also realize this, and snickers. Oh, it’s on, Varadha thinks. Both of them had competitive streaks, and the best way to provoke was to act like the other was powerless. 

“I dare you to spend thirty seconds outside.” 

Deva’s jaw drops. “It’s raining!” 

“Exactly. Get out.”

Deva rolls his eyes, but dutifully crawls outside to lie in the grass for thirty seconds. Varadha definitely doesn’t admire the way the water droplets run across his skin.

When he comes back inside, he’s fully soaked, and Varadha realizes he’s made a mistake. The space is so small the puddles that Deva makes flow over to where Varadha is. 

Deva suddenly leans over Varadha, and before he can react, roughly shakes his head so the droplets in his hair land onto Varadha’s face. Varadha sputters, jumping away, and Deva laughs back to his spot on the floor. 

“Kukka [dog],” Varadha mutters, as Deva’s laughter slowly trails off. 

“Ok, my turn,” Deva says, still grinning widely. “Truth or Dare, Vara?”

Well, Varadha’s not going to pick dare. “Truth.” Deva opens his mouth, then closes it. Varadha smirks at him. “Whatever diabolical plan you had, it’s not happening.”

Deva pouts. “Damn, I gotta actually think of something to ask you now.” His brows knit together in concentration. “What don’t I know about you?”

A good question, actually. They had been inseparable ever since they had been introduced as toddlers, the sons of Raja Mannar and Dhaara Raisan. Every joy, every sorrow in their lives, they had shared with each other. 

“Do you actually approve of Rinda, or are you just ok with it for Baachi’s sake?”

That’s easy. “He’s an idiot, but not bad.” Not bad, Deva mouths at him, and Varadha flips him off, grinning. “He’s higher on my list than most other people, at least. And I trust Baachi to keep him in line.”

They smile at each other for a few more seconds. 

“My turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Varadha flicks an eyebrow, and Deva rolls his eyes once more. “You could barely come up with a dare last time. There’s nothing to do in here. Might as well make it a truth game.” He doesn’t like it, but Varadha can see the logic in that. 

“Alright.” He racks his brain for what he can ask Deva that he doesn’t already know. “Have you ever had a crush on anyone? Obviously, someone you didn’t tell me about.” 

Nice going Varadha , he thinks. Totally subtle. 

But Deva just contemplates it. Like there actually was an answer to that that wasn’t, Are you out of your mind? If there was someone I would’ve told you.  

“Promise me.” Varadha says, suddenly. “Promise me that everything you say for the rest of the game is true.” He hopes that if there really were secrets between them, this night would change that. 

Deva stares, mouth set in a hard line, for long enough that Varadha starts to sweat. Does.. does Deva want to keep secrets from him? Eventually he does lift up his pinky. “I swear.”

Varadha gives him a Look, now trusting him even less. Deva sighs. “I pinky swear, on our friendship, that I’ll tell the truth.” He then quickly links the pinky with Varadha’s. “And Varadharaja Mannar will also tell the truth.” Varadha opens his mouth, and then closes it. Well, he’d be a hypocrite if he didn’t agree to the deal as well. Complete honestly from both, then. 

“Sare, sare [Ok, ok]. Now answer the question.” 

Deva looks at the ground for the first time, not being able to meet Varadha’s eyes. “Yes,” he mumbles, and Varadha’s heart sinks. 

“My turn,” Deva says, quickly. “Have you..” He hesitates, but forges on. “Have you ever went all the way with anyone?”

“Have I had sex, you mean?”

“I’m just curious,” he defends himself. “Isn’t that the kind of question you would ask in a Truth or Dare game?”

“Yes,” Varadha answers honestly, to his first question. Deva takes in that information, eyes unreadable. “Now you. Do you still feel that way for that person?”

Deva closes his eyes, as if expecting a reaction from Varadha. “...Yes.”

Oh. Varadha forces a laugh. “Rasikudive, raa nuvvu [you’re really a player],” he jokes. “Pakkane mogudni pettukoni vere valla gurinchi matladthunnavu [you’re talking about other people with your husband right next to you].” The flirtatious banter was an inside joke between them, sometimes referring to each other as their husband or wife in private. It doesn’t seem to land in this moment, where Deva just looks pained. 

“Rey..” he starts, and Varadha interrupts. 

“It’s your turn to ask me something.”

Deva just looks at him. “Does it bother you? That I said yes to the past two questions?”

Fuck. Varadha hates his past self for suggesting this game. But he had promised. And it’s not like Varadha wasn’t a jealous person in general, even towards people Deva knows he has only platonic feelings for. 

“Yes,” he answers. Deva’s eyes widen. Moving on. 

“Does the person know you have feelings for them?” They’re getting dangerously close to what Varadha really wants to know, the identity of this mysterious crush of Deva’s. 

“No.” Deva says, quickly, but surely. Like that was unquestionable, like he had resigned himself to unrequited feelings a long time ago. “Do you? Have someone you like, I mean.”

Varadha keeps his eyes on Deva, thinking again about how if Deva had suspected anything he probably would’ve done so a long time ago. “Yes.” Deva’s eyes widen once again, and Varadha can see genuine surprise and hurt. 

Well, if they were talking about secrets. “Were you the one who beat up Ranga?”

Deva flinches. 

Varadha had always felt estranged from his family, but a few years ago, the catalyst for his leaving was Ranga. His brother’s boytoy? Boyfriend? Pet? Varadha still doesn’t know what he is to Rudra, but one day Ranga apparently thought it would be funny to call and withdraw Varadha’s application to his dream university. Varadha had been devastated, but knew better than to start something when Rudra could just as easily do the same to the other colleges he had applied to in retaliation. Let them pay for his college, graduate and then cut them off - this was Varadha’s mantra for higher education. 

He had, of course, raged about it in private with Deva. Had broken down, barely eaten dinner that night, slept with his head in Deva’s lap on the couch with Atha glancing worriedly at him. Varadha hadn’t told another soul about it. 

The day after, he went home to get a suitcase of his clothes and other belongings thrown at him the second he walked through the door. From the doorway, he could see all his trophies, his certificates, smashed on the living room floor. 

Someone had beaten up Ranga that morning. They had beaten him so bad he was in the hospital in a coma. Rudra had furiously enquired as to what happened, and somehow found out about what Ranga did. He had assumed it was Varadha, taking revenge, and had told Raja Mannar. And of course he only focused on the fact that Varadha had hurt someone, not even caring about the reason why. With Radha Rama’s encouragement, he had taken the decision to legally disown Varadha. 

That was the last day Varadha stepped foot in that house. He had gone numbly over to Deva’s apartment, holding nothing but his suitcase. Atha had opened the door, taken one look at him and the suitcase, and waved him in, had told him the guest room was always his. When Deva got home, Varadha could see the shock and clear guilt across his face. 

He had never asked Deva about it, and Deva didn’t talk about it. Varadha didn’t even blame him. He only felt mildly upset that if Ranga’s face did get smashed in, it wasn’t Varadha that had done it. 

“Was it you?” Varadha repeats the question. He knows the answer, of course. He just wants Deva to say something about it, now that they had both sworn to tell the truth. 

A shadow of Deva’s guilt that day comes back now, shoulders slumping. “Yes,” Deva whispers. “But you knew that.”

“I did.”

They sit in silence for a few more seconds. Varadha can be patient when he wants to, and can outwait even Deva, a man of few words. 

Eventually the tension is too much for Deva. “I’m sorry, raa,” he says, desperate. “I wasn’t thinking, at all. I didn’t expect them to take it out on you. That morning, I woke up still dreaming of your tears, and I couldn’t do anything, think of anything other than fucking that bastard up.” The last part is gritted out. “He’s lucky I didn’t kill him. I definitely wanted to, just for making you cry, for taking away your chances at your dream college.” 

Varadha swallows. He knows Deva cares about him more than anything, but to hear it put like that, it’s scary and reassuring at the same time. “You didn’t say anything about it afterwards, though. Even when I came to your house that day.”

Deva closes his eyes. “Does it make me a terrible person if some part of me, some small part of me was glad it happened?”

“Glad?”

“Because.. because it led to you staying with me.” He quickly clears his throat. “With us. Me and Amma.”

Varadha stares. Deva opens his eyes, and winces at whatever he finds on Varadha’s face. “I’m sorry. But it’s the truth. I felt awful for you getting kicked out, I felt awful that I ruined your life. I genuinely wanted to end it all, for a few days.” Varadha remembers the quiet, devastated glances Deva kept sending him all week, when he thought Varadha couldn’t see him. “But then I would see you, eating with us, laughing along with us into the late hours of the night, sleeping in the room that was now yours…” He swallows. Deva doesn’t finish the sentence, but Varadha, so closely attuned with his best friend, could easily tell what he wanted to convey. 

They sit in silence as Varadha digests this information, both looking anywhere other than each other. Eventually, Deva leans his head out of the hut, and comes back in, only slightly wet. 

He hesitantly tries to tell Varadha, “The storm seems to have broken-”

“Your turn.” Varadha interrupts. 

“My what?”

“Your turn.” Varadha nudges him with his foot. “Truth or.. truth I guess.”

“Are you angry at me?” He whispers, looking genuinely scared. Like what Varadha says now would screw with him for the rest of his life. “For what I did?” 

Varadha just stares at him, letting Deva squirm. 

Finally, he responds, mouth slowly curving into a smile. “Yedava [idiot]. If I actually was mad at you I’d have let you know the day it happened. I’m just mad you didn’t call me when you were beating him up because I had shit to say as well.”

Deva’s jaw drops. “You- you- dongasachinoda [fucking asshole]. You had me thinking you hated me!” 

Varadha can’t hold it back anymore, starts laughing uncontrollably. “Your-your face!” He wheezes. “You were so scared!”

Deva attempts to pout but fails to hold back a relieved grin. “Dick.”

“Well, if that’s what you want-,” Varadha winks, then laughs again as Deva attempts to hit him for that. He overshoots, and ends up falling on his face, onto Varadha’s thighs. Deva shifts into a more comfortable position, looking up at Varadha now. 

Varadha looks at Deva’s affectionate smile, and thinks back to the admission that Deva had loved having Varadha living with him. Suddenly, Varadha’s a lot less scared about who Deva’s been talking about. He thinks, he hopes, that he’s guessing it correctly. “What’s his name?”

Deva’s smile dims a bit. “Who?”

“It’s my turn, raa. What’s his name, the one you’ve been pining over?”

“How’d you know it was a guy?”

“You can’t ask questions, you only can answer mine. That’s how the game works.”

Deva looks deep into Varadha’s eyes, searching. Finally, he answers. “You seem so confident. Why don’t you answer, and I’ll tell you if it’s right?”

In response, desperately praying to every god he can think of that he’s not fucking this up, not ruining their friendship irrevocably, Varadha leans down and kisses Deva. 

There’s a brief moment of shock, a moment where Deva freezes, that Varadha starts panicking. 

Oh fuck shit fuck shit shit shit fuck fuck fuuuuuuuck-

Deva pulls back. 

I’ve gotta move out I can’t show my face anymore-

He sits up fully, so he’s facing Varadha. 

I’ve got to change my name, move to a different country, fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“What was that?” Deva’s face is carefully blank, but Varadha knows his own must be giving all of his feelings away. 

“I… thought it was me?” Varadha tries, feeling like a lump of embarrassment. He clears his throat, averting his eyes. “Or not. That’s fine. I’ll just-” He attempts to stand up, trying to push Deva off his lap. Fuck the rain, he’ll walk to Deva's house if that’s what he has to do to get out of here. And immediately start packing his shit once he gets there. 

He hears the unmistakable sound of a giggle from Deva, and Varadha snaps his head back around to see Deva with his hands clapped over his mouth. They can’t hide the wide grin he’s struggling to hold back well enough, though.

“What the fuck?”

Deva gives up and tugs Varadha back down, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Oh so only you’re allowed to pretend you’re mad at me?” 

“Ohh, you fucker!” Varadha pinches Deva in the side, hard, and Deva yelps, but it doesn’t stop either of their laughter. 

Deva pulls Varadha into a kiss, and this time it’s heavenly with both of them reciprocating. Both of their lips are chapped and dry from the lack of food or water, but Varadha doesn’t care. Deva, his Deva, is kissing him. 

They pull back, only far enough so Deva can rest his forehead on Varadha’s. 

He laughs incredulously. “Let me guess, you’ve also been secretly pining for your best friend all your life.”

“Fucking hell,” is all Varadha says in response, grinning. 

“We’re idiots.”

“Yep.”

Deva groans. “Even your brother saw it before we did, he kept teasing us at the party that we showed up together like a couple.”

“I think the whole world saw it before we did,” Varadha sighs. “I don’t know about your mom, though.” Deva winces, and Varadha pulls back, frowning. “What?”

“I might’ve…. told my mom at age six if I was going to marry anyone it was going to be you? And then repeated it when I was twenty-one and she started talking about people I might be interested in?” He grins, embarrassed. 

Varadha’s eyes widen as something occurs to him, and Deva immediately starts protesting. 

“No, no, it’s not like that-”

“Damn, you really were down bad for me, huh,” Varadha smirks, and Deva groans, hiding his face in Varadha’s chest. “What else, were you doodling our names together in your notebooks with hearts? Were you the one that put that sappy ass love letter in my locker in the ninth grade?” Deva doesn’t say anything, and Varadha bursts out laughing. “Wait, seriously?” 

Deva immediately pushes himself out of the light embrace Varadha’s been holding him in, and looks outside. “Well would you look at that, the sun is shining and it’s not pouring anymore.”

Varadha gets to his feet as well, grinning. He’s absolutely delighted at this turn of events, and won’t ever let Deva live this down. 

Deva’s about to go outside to the car, cheeks red, when he stops. He hesitantly takes Varadha’s hand in his own, looks at him like Is this okay? Is this too fast?

Varadha just brings the hand up to his lips, presses a kiss to the knuckles. An unspoken It’s very okay. 

Deva smiles shyly, and they head out to their car, hand in hand. The combination of the light rain and the bright sun makes a very visible half rainbow at the end of the field across from them, and Varadha smiles. 

"Let's go to our home, raa," he says. 

-

tags: @deadloverscity @ghostdriftexistence @zici @sambaridli @sometimesbrave @just-a-lazy-person @vijayasena @sinistergooseberries all the other server lovelies as well

[nordschleifes]

extra — la chica perfecta

➝ sometimes, you just need a shower and some japanese food to understand the obvious things

➝ word count: 2,7k

➝ warnings: smut

➝ author's note: this one shot takes place in monaco, the events of which are mentioned in chapter 6. i wrote it as a way to warm you up for the second part of the story and to close some points that i was feeling weren't clear. hope you like it.

They were sitting in complete silence.

The only sound that could be heard in the bathroom were her clothes sliding across her skin, landing in a pile on the tile floor.

Fernando felt his chest getting warmer. It was a strange feeling, but oddly familiar at the same time. It was something he hadn’t felt in a while, and it made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. 

— Are you just going to stand there? — Charlie asked, bringing him back to the present. She was looking at him skeptically, with her hands on her hips. Her expression contrasted sharply with the fact that she was standing in front of him, mostly naked. 

Fernando shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, looking down at his feet as he started feeling sheepish.

— Well, you put on such an interesting show — Fernando replied, leaning back against the wall. Charlie rolled her eyes.

— Idiot — she muttered, reaching behind her back to unclasp the lavender bra she was wearing. She slid the straps down her arms, and the bra fell to the floor, along with the rest of her clothing. Then, she swept her hair back away from her face to secure it into a bun, securing the dark strands together with an elastic that she had been wearing on her wrist.

— You still do that the same way — the driver said, his voice quiet.

Charlie's eyes met his.

— What are you talking about?

— Your hair. You still tie it in the same way you did when you were at McLaren.

She blinked. She looked a bit disconcerted.

— How do you know that?

— I like to think that I have good observational skills.

— So you use them to notice how I tie back my hair? 

Fernando smiled.

— Yes. You put it all together, twist it and turn it clockwise before putting the elastic around it. 

The bathroom was silent again. With his eyes fixed on hers, the Fernando noticed the strange heat spreading across his chest again. How had he managed to ignore it for so long?

— You're weird — she said, after a few moments.

— As I said, I have good observational skills.

— You should use them to observe things thst are more interesting than the way I tie back my hair. 

— Like the way you drink your coffee? — he asked.

— Do you know how I drink my coffee?

— No milk or sugar — Fernando said — You once said that you liked it as “black and bitter like my soul”, which I thought was quite clever.

Charlie smiled, a little embarrassed.

— Well, it's true.

— I don’t think so.

— No?

— You're not bitter — Fernando  replied — In fact, you’re sweeter than I imagined.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before he smiled. It was enough to make Charlie shake her head.

— You really are an idiot — she muttered, turning to step into the shower stall. She turned on the water without saying another word. 

Fernando took a few seconds to start undressing, while the room filled with hot steam. After placing his clothes in the laundry basket and his watch on the edge sink, he stepped in behind Charlie, who was staring intently at the temperature markings above the tap, standing against the wall to avoid the stream of water coming out of the showerhead.

— What’s wrong?

— I'm trying not to turn into soup here — she grumbled.

— It would be a very tasty soup, I assure you — Fernando said, which made Charlie snort — Okay, let me help you.

After teaching her how to adjust the temperature of the water, they spent a long time under the hot spray, busying themselves with removing the remains of travel and party from their skin. As he rubbed the soap over Charlie's back, Fernando couldn't help but remember the first time he saw her.

He was nervous, more than he should have been that morning, even though he knew what was coming. It was another press conference, no different from the hundreds he had already taken part in. Maybe it was his mother's accusatory voice in his head, telling her he had to be crazy to believe in Ron Dennis again, especially after everything that had happened during the 2007 season, when he last drove for McLaren.

— And these are our performance engineers, all graduated from the best universities in Europe — he remembered hearing someone say — I’d like to introduce you to John, Anthony, Adam and Charlotte.

Fernando extended his hand first to her, and she shook it firmly. Charlotte had bleached blonde hair and blue eyes, so blue they reminded him of the summer sky in Oviedo. There seemed to be a hint of a blush in her cheeks, which made him wonder if she was as nervous as he was at that moment.

— You're quiet — Charlie murmured, bringing Fernando out of his thoughts again, his hand resting on her shoulder.

— Any problem with that? — he questioned, making her turn to him.

— Your silence almost always means you're thinking, and that's a problem.

— Is thinking a problem?

— If the person thinking is you, yes.

He raised an eyebrow.

— Why?

— Because that means you're planning something devious.

Fernando let out a laugh.

— Is that really what you think of me, nena?

— Well, you're still the bad guy, aren't you? — Charlie asked, an edge to her voice that filled his stomach with butterflies.

— Yes, I'm still the bad guy — he said, bringing his hand toher cheek — But that doesn't mean I'm always planning devious things.

— Does that mean you have room in your head for other things? — she asked, with an almost malicious smile.

— I always do.

Charlie got closer to him and wrapped her arms around Fernando's neck. With her breasts pressed against his chest, he could feel the heat her wet skin emanated. He could feel her nipples grazing his skin. However, contrary to what he expected, the anxiety that had consumed him until he set foot in his apartment had dissipated. There was no longer that almost primal need to be close to Charlie consuming him.

All he felt was… peace.

— What were you thinking, bad guy?

— I was thinking about you.

She clicked her tongue, looking dissatisfied.

— And your dick isn't hard?

— Maybe I was thinking of more innocent things, Charlie.

— Like what?

— Like the day we met. Do you remember?

Charlie gave a playful little smile.

— It's hard to forget the day I first met the biggest asshole I’d ever know.

— Oh, come on, you met Ron Dennis before me, no? — Fernando, his voice teasing, causing Charlie to shake her head in disapproval — If you must know, I didn't think you were an asshole that day.

— No?

— No. In fact, meeting a female engineer was hard to forget, at that point.

Her smile faded, almost as if the driver had touched on something that made her sad or uncomfortable. “Me and my big mouth”, he thought to himself, as he tried to formulate something to make the sentence more pleasant.

— And then you used it against me — Charlie muttered before he had a chance to say anything. 

After she talked about that fateful afternoon in 2015 during a debrief, he couldn't get the story out of his head. Fernando was so upset about the whole car situation that he hadn't even realized that the blonde, blue-eyed woman was the one named Charlie who was mentioned every time performance was discussed. And, in a moment of irritation, he said the worst thing he could say to her, as if those words could transform that car into something remotely drivable.

— Because I'm an ungrateful asshole —Fernando said quietly — And I apologize for that.

Charlie blinked, almost as if he couldn't believe what he had heard.

— Are you…

— Regretful? Yes — he replied — Ashamed of how I acted? Wanting to go back in time and punch myself in the face? Yes, but that's beside the point.

The end of his sentence caused the shadow of a smile to appear on Charlie’s face.

— I was blind with anger, with frustration, especially after so many years trying for a third title with Ferrari and failing — Fernando continued. Now that he’d started, he found his words coming out like the water of the shower running behind Charlie — I simply didn't see the effort you were putting in, or how willing you were to help me. I was just an asshole when, in reality, I should have been thanking you for still having hope in that shitty car.

— I was very naive…

— No, Charlie. You were the person I needed to listen to, and not the others who wanted us to carry on like we were until the end of the season and pray for the next year to be better. I should have been more involved, tried to help fix things with you — he said. After a few seconds of silence, he let out a long sigh, lowering his head — Forgive me for everything, nena. Forgive me.

Charlie's hands slid from the back of Fernando's head towards his cheeks. Then, she lifted his face, her blue eyes filled with something warm and familiar.

— I forgive you, Fer — she whispered, before bringing her lips to his, kissing him delicately. The sensation caused a wave of heat to fill his chest as his fingers tightened around her waist. A few seconds later, Charlie rested his forehead against his — I forgive you for everything.

— Even for asking them to fire you?

— Even that, as stupid as it was.

They kissed some more, eventually finishing their shower and getting out. Fernando suggested they order something to eat, which Charlie agreed to. They exchanged a few kisses as they dried off and got dressed before getting comfortable in the living room. The hours passed by peacefully, the two of them talking and enjoying the sushi that Fernando had ordered as they were sitting on the living room floor.

— Nena, can I ask you a question? — He said, after taking a sip of the water.

— You just did — Charlie said, giving a small smile. When she saw him roll his eyes, she laughed — Ask, then.

— Did you receive any other job offers when you were at McLaren?

Charlie pursed her lips, thinking for a few seconds.

— Yes — she finally spoke — After Monza, I received an offer from Alpine.

— But you refused it, didn't you?

— I did.

— Was it because of me? — the driver asked, almost certain of what the answer would be.

— Yeah. Let's just say I wasn't ready to deal with you again...

Fernando let out a sigh. Maybe it was the right thing to say at that moment.

— I was the one who asked them to make the offer.

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

— You…

— After the race in Monza, I saw Daniel hugging you on the pit lane and handing you the trophy. And it was like it clicked something in my head, you know? If I wanted to win, I needed someone to help me do it, and you were that someone.

— And you thought I was going to change teams for you? — Charlie asked, looking skeptical.

— Well, I thought you wouldn't refuse an offer if the money was good…

— Their offer was only 10% higher, which wasn’t worth having to work with you — she murmured — So I saw no reason to take it.

— I figured. So much so that I asked them to improve the offer, to ask what you wanted and give everything. But, when they finally sent another proposal, you had decided to go to Aston instead.

Charlie giggled..

— Did you really want to work with me?

— Yes, nena. So much so that the first thing I did after I saw Sebastian's video  on Instagram was call Lawrence and tell him I was available.

Seeing Charlie's eyebrows rise, Fernando smiled.

— So quickly?

— I couldn't pass up the chance to work with you again. It would probably be my last and — he hesitated, looking at the glass of water — I wanted to do things the right way this time.

She sat up slightly, sitting closer to him. Their close proximity made Fernando's belly fill with butterflies. How could something as simple as sitting next to Charlie have that effect on him? How could that woman make him feel like a teenager at that age?

— I think you're doing well — she said softly.

— Well, I still haven’t gotten another win — Fernando began, being interrupted by a chuckle from Charlie — What?

— I'm not talking about your results.

It took him a few seconds to realize what the engineer was actually referring to.

— Ah, well — Fernando stuttered, feeling his face heat up — Do you think so?

— I do, Fer — she replied, bringing her hand to his face — You're doing very well.

Kissing Charlie felt inevitable for Fernando. It also felt inevitable to take her to his room and undress her, like a child opening a gift on the Dia de Reyes. However, more inevitable than all that was feeling his heart leaping inside his chest when he penetrated her for the first time that night.

There was something intoxicating about her, something he couldn't understand or explain. It was something in the way she gave herself to him, her eyes half-open and her breathing heavy as Fernando caressed every inch of her skin. It was something about the way she gasped and sighed as he moved slowly, her hands squeezing his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. It was something about the way her cheeks turned completely red as a louder moan escaped her lips.

— Sorry — Charlie whispered as soon as Fernando suddenly stopped moving.

— For what? — he said through gritted teeth, trying to focus on her words and not on the way she pulsed around him.

— I didn't mean to be so loud — she said with one hand over her mouth, a guilty look on her face.

— No, it's okay — Fernando said, removing her hand from her face and taking it to the mattress — Actually, you have no idea how much I like to hear you moaning, nena...

Something about the words made her eyes darken with desire.

— I like listening to you too — Charlie murmured, as Fernando slowly moved again, biting his lower lip. And, almost immediately, he gave her what she had asked for.

The room was filled with the sounds that escaped their lips. Each of Charlie’s moans was matched by one of his, louder, almost as if they were in a competition. However, unlike all other disputes, Fernando never wanted to lose as much as he did at that moment. After all, losing meant seeing Charlie completely given over to pleasure, her mouth open in a perfect circle as her muscles trembled.

— Harder, Fer — she moaned, pressing her heels against the base of his spine, as if she wanted him to go deeper. And he knew he was capable of anything to dive into Charlotte and give her what she wanted — Touch my clit, I need more...

With his fingers massaging the spot just above where his cock was, Fernando realized how different sex with Charlie was to his previous partners. With other women, he felt as if he had no other concerns other than satisfying himself, but it wasn’t the case with Charlie. He wanted to please her at all costs, even if, in the end, he didn't reach orgasm, something almost unthinkable months before.

“What the hell did this woman do to me?” Fernando thought to himself, while his thumb drew circles over her clitoris. 

— Fer, I'm coming — she whimpered, her eyes closed tightly — Please, please, don't stop, please…

A split second later, Charlie reached her climax. As her pussy contracted with pleasure, Fernando quickened his own pace, moans escaping his lips as her nails dug into his skin, protesting the overstimulation.

When the driver came in the condom, he was sure that everything made sense, in a way it had never before. As he moaned Charlie’s name, Fernando simply became aware of the obvious.

He was in love with her. And it wasn't just because of the incredible sex they just had.

He was in love with the way she understood him without them saying anything. He was in love with her curiosity, even if it lacked the innocence her eyes seemed to convey. He was in love with the sparkle in her eyes, with her confidence, with the tired but completely satisfied smile that was on her face at that moment, as he pulled out of her and collapsed onto the mattress.

It was indisputable.

Charlotte Whitlam was the perfect woman.

[therisingkings]

I Still Hate You

With Damen out of town, Nikandros is forced to join Laurent at a gala. However, someone slips something into Laurent's drink that leads to Nikandros having to give him some "special" help. Don't worry, they still hate each other.

Read it on Ao3

*****

“Do not panic,” Laurent said, which made Nikandros instantly want to panic. He was leaning too close, his lips right by Nikandros’ ear. “But we need to leave. Right now.”

“What happened?” Nikandros put a critical inch between them.

They were at a gala, a celebration to bring in the new year. Veretain Industries was many things, but at least they knew how to throw a party. Nikandros had been sent on Damen’s behalf, since his friend was busy halfway across the country, cleaning up the mess his half-brother had made at the Akielon Industry.

“I’ll explain later. Just get us out of here.”

“Should I—”

“ Now, idiot.” Laurent was tense, his hands curled into fists at his sides. His glare got Nikandros moving.

Nik said his goodbyes as quickly as possible but didn’t bother to say anything to the host.  Henry DeVere was a piece of work. If Nikandros didn’t have to speak to him again for the rest of his life, he’d die a happy man.

Laurent stuck to his side the whole way out, which was odd. Off. When Laurent wasn’t cursing Nikandros, he was actively trying to push his buttons. The only reason Nikandros tolerated him was for Damen. He’d been Damen’s best man at the wedding. He’d promised he’d be there if Laurent needed him too.

So Nikandros gritted his teeth as they waited for their driver. Something was wrong, he knew that much, but Laurent, per usual, was keeping secrets. Maybe it was his uncle. Henry DeVere had made a rather passive aggressive speech at the beginning of the night about the future of Veretain Industries, all without mentioning its heir, who would inherit in less than six months when he turned twenty-one.

Nikandros turned to him. “Is it—”

“Get in the car.” Laurent shoved him towards it as soon as the driver pulled up. He slammed the door behind him and gave a curt order to take them to Nikandros’ apartment.

“Why are we going to my apartment?” Nikandros asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Yours is closer. He can drop you off first.”

“No.” Laurent closed the window to the front seats before leaning back. He undid his tie and the top button of his shirt in short, quick movements to take several deep breaths. After a moment of silence, he said slowly, “Someone, I think, is trying to make a fool of me.”

“Laurent, tell me what happened.” The city passed through the windows in blurs of golden and silver light.

Laurent dropped his head against the rest, then rolled it to press his brow to the window. “T’s so cold.”

“ Laurent!”

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I may have been drugged.”

“ What? We need to call the police.” Nikandros was already reaching for his phone.

Laurent put a hand on his wrist. His skin was hot. “No. Just—Stop. Give me… a moment.”

Nikandros reopened the window and said to the driver, “Take us to the nearest hospital. Now. Go—”

“No! He’s overreacting. The apartment, please.” 

The driver’s brows pinched, his eyes flicking in the rearview mirror. “Sir?”

“Who fucking pays you?” Laurent slammed the window back shut.

“Overreacting? Are you fucking nuts? No, don’t answer that.” Nikandros pinched the bridge of his nose. “Something is seriously wrong if you’re saying ‘please.’”

“No press,” Laurent mumbled, and all the strength seemed to seep from him as he leaned back against the window. He closed his eyes. “I know this drug. It’s not fatal.”

“You really know how to reassure someone, don’t you?” Nikandros snapped.

“Your feelings are really the least of my concern right now.”

“Aren’t they always?”

Laurent’s eyes opened to thin slits. “Just shut up. Let me think.”

Nikandros clenched his jaw. “Fine.” He didn’t even care if the little brat died. Well, he did, but only because it would hurt Damen.

The rest of the drive was mercifully silent and short. Laurent’s condition didn’t seem to worsen, so some of Nikandros’ anxiety decreased. They went into his apartment building and in the new lighting, Nikandros could see the slight flush on Laurent’s cheeks.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Nikandros asked in the elevator. 

Laurent’s cool gaze slid over to him. He’d taken off his suit jacket in the car and now clutched it in front of him, hands white-knuckled. “I’m sure.”

The elevator door opened to Nikandros’ penthouse suite. Laurent immediately strode inside, then paused. He looked around. “Do you have cameras in here?”

“Why would I have cameras in my own apartment?”

“Good.” Laurent waited another moment, shifting his weight. Finally, he said, “I have dealt with this particular brand of poison before.”

Nikandros raised a brow. “Okay.”

There was another pause. “It is an aphrodisiac. One of the more powerful ones on the market.”

The blood drained from Nikandros’ face.

Laurent went on, as if now that the words were out, he needed to explain himself. “It’s called hakesh. A Vaskain creation. Old. I recognized the taste in my drink, but it was already too late.”

“Okay…” Nikandros absorbed the information. Had he and Damen messed with it before? No, he didn’t want to know that.

“I suspect… there may be people waiting for me at my apartment.”

Oh. Oh.

“What do you want me to do?”

Laurent held out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

“No,” Nikandros said immediately, pity flooding out of him. The last thing he wanted was those grubby little fingers on his personal data.

Laurent snapped said fingers impatiently. “Mine’s dead. I need to call Damen.”

Nikandros crossed his arms over his chest. “Charge it.”

Laurent turned and took two steps forward until he was in Nikandros’ face. “Would you like to explain to my husband how I was poisoned under your watch, or would you rather me soften the blow? It’s up to you.”

“I hate you,” Nikandros snarled and shoved the phone into his hands.

Laurent strode off in the direction of the bedroom, then slammed the door behind him. How he knew where the bedroom was, having never been there before, Nikandros didn’t care. 

He poured himself a healthy glass of whiskey and took a seat at the bar. He’d known Laurent’s uncle was evil, but this was a whole new level. Had Laurent drank more than he did, he could have humiliated himself in front of everyone at the gala. He’d just be seen as overly drunk, unable to control himself. 

It was cruel and twisted and stank of Henry DeVere.

The muffled murmur of conversation came from the bedroom. Nikandros took a large draw of his whiskey.

The door opened. Laurent emerged, another two buttons of his shirt undone, and handed the phone to Nikandros. “He wants to speak to you.”

Fuck. Nikandros was a dead man. He took the phone from Laurent. “Hello?”

Laurent retreated back into the bedroom and shut the door softly behind him.

“Nikandros.” Damen’s voice was hard.

Nikandros put his head in his hand. “Damen, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I—”

“Are you drinking?”

He set down the glass guiltily. “Yes.”

“Whiskey?” Damen knew him too well.

“Yeah.”

“Pour yourself some more. Drink it all.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

Nikandros did. He finished his glass, then poured another and downed it in a single gulp.

There was a shuffle on the other side of the line. Damen said, “You’re my best friend, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” Nikandros said miserably.

“And you’d do anything for me?”

“Anything.”

“Okay. I need you to fuck Laurent.”

Nikandros almost dropped the phone. “ What?”

“Look, I know it’s—”

“Hold on, hold on. I need another drink before we have this conversation over the damned phone, Damen.”

He put the phone on speaker so he could take the bottle. He debated chugging it, but the last thing he needed right now was alcohol poisoning. He settled for downing another glass.

Damen’s voice came from the speaker. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but we don’t have a lot of options here. I’ve got the earliest flight tomorrow, but I can’t get there any sooner.”

Nikandros set down the glass. He stared at Damen’s profile picture on his phone. 

“This drug, it’s got, uh, personal weight to Laurent. It’s not the first time it’s been used against him.” Damen sighed. “It gets very painful, very fast. The only way to ease that pain is with release.”

Nikandros sat back on his stool, head in his hands. “Why can’t he just jerk himself off, then?”

“He’s going to need the normal amount of stimulation, if not more. And he doesn’t like masturbating.”

“I did not need to know that.”

There was another sigh from the phone. “I’m really sorry. Fuck, I knew I should have stayed.”

Nikandros rubbed his face. “This is so wrong.”

“I know. But I…” Fabric rustled. “I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes. He’s your type too.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s your fucking husband, Damen. I would never…”

“I know.”

Silence stretched.

Nikandros tried to collect his thoughts, but they slipped like water through his fingertips. “Alright,” he said after a moment. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Thank god. Okay. Keep me on the phone. That’s the only way Laurent wants it done.”

“You owe me big time, got it, you asshole?” Nikandros stood phone in hand.

“Anything you want.”

Laurent was leaning against the doorframe leading to the bedroom. He tilted his head and went inside.

Nikandros followed. He found Laurent sitting cross legged on the bed, not looking at him.

He put his phone on the pillow and took off his shoes. 

“You okay, Laurie?” Damen asked.

“I’m fine.” 

Nikandros fidgeted. “I could put it on Facetime if—”

“No.” Laurent shifted backwards until he sat in the middle of the bed. He touched his brow. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“Okay. Uh.” Nikandros didn’t know what to do. “Do you want to just bend over or…”

Laurent gave an undignified snort. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t aggravate him, Laurent,” said Damen sternly. “Nik, kiss him. You can start there.”

Nikandros put one knee on the bed, then had to pause and take a breath. 

Laurent arched a single brow.

So Nikandros moved forward until he could take the little devil’s face between his hands. He started off small, just a bare brush of lips. Laurent’s mouth was warm, at odds with the cold words that usually came from it.

Nikandros tilted his head. The kiss deepened and that wicked tongue was no less wicked than usual. Laurent instantly took control, one hand threading into the roots of Nikandros’ hair. Nikandros grunted as he was pulled by his head further onto the bed. He had to catch himself on his forearm to prevent from squishing Laurent as they laid down.

Laurent kissed him harder. He kissed a lot like Damen, which wasn’t surprising if Nikandros thought about it. Damen liked kissing. He’d told Nikandros that once, after their wrestling match had dissolved into a make-out session and some very heavy petting. Their youth had been full of instances like that, but that had been all it was: youth. They hadn’t kissed since college, with the exception of a very drunk threesome.

Still, Nikandros felt a tingle of familiarity. 

That is, until Laurent pulled back and snapped, “This is fucking boring. What are you waiting for?”

“I…” Nikandros had been, against all reason, enjoying the kiss.

Damen said, “Take off his clothes.”

Nikandros wasn’t sure who the order was for, but they both moved. Laurent sat up faster than Nikandros could sit back, knocking their heads together.

Nikandros blinked, then laughed.

Laurent chuckled too as he undid the remaining buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off.

“What? What happened? Why are you laughing?”

Nikandros dropped his own shirt on the floor. “Nothing, D. Just broke the ice a bit.”

“Oh. That’s… good, I think.”

Nikandros grabbed the waistband of Laurent’s pants and yanked those and his underwear off in one go.

Laurent splayed out on the mattress, completely at ease with his nudity. Nikandros took a moment to appreciate the display. Laurent’s revealed skin was creamy and pale, at odds with the tip of his cock, an almost angry red. It was his nipples that drew Nikandros’ attention: a dusty pink, the same shade as his lips.

Nikandros took a deep breath. “What does he like?”

Damen hummed and there was the clink of a belt buckle. “Hold him down when you kiss him. He likes the weight.”

So Nikandros did, taking control of the kiss himself as he pinned both of Laurent’s wrist beneath his hand. He delved into Laurent’s mouth and found the man more pliant than he’d been moments ago.

He trailed off, down the column of Laurent’s neck. “Can I—” he started to say at the same time Damen said, “Mark him up if you want. It drives him mad.”

Laurent made a noise in the back of his throat as Nikandros nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin until it blushed the color of ripened peaches. He shifted further, releasing Laurent’s hands so he could take a nipple into his mouth. Laurent jerked slightly, almost imperceptible, but Nikandros caught the message: not there.

He returned to Laurent’s lips, which were gleaming in the dim light.

“You’ll have to prep him,” Damen said as they kissed. “Three fingers ‘cause he tenses up fast.”

Nikandros pulled back to study Laurent’s flushed mouth. 

Laurent’s eyes fluttered open. “What are you waiting for?”

Nikandros stretched over him to fish through his nightstand. He retrieved a bottle of lube and a condom before sitting back on his heels. He gripped Laurent’s thigh and pushed it open, revealing his puckered entrance. 

Squirting some of the lube onto his fingers, Nikandros watched Laurent’s face as he eased one in.

His expression was carefully neutral, save for the blush that had begun to spread over his cheeks, then bled down his neck as Nikandros pumped for a few moments before adding a second finger.

He was tight, like Damen had said, and just the feel of the heat on his fingers had Nikandros’ cock hardening to full mast. He curled his fingers and earned the slightest arch of Laurent’s back.

Laurent’s eyes fluttered shut. “He’s taking too long, Damen.”

“Hush,” Nikandros snapped as he pushed in a third finger.

Laurent made a small noise and turned his head into the pillow.

“He has to take his time, sweetheart. We don’t want you to tear.”

Nikandros rolled his eyes. “He is anything but sweet.”

Damen’s chuckle was deep and hearty.

Laurent shifted his hips, pushing Nikandros’ fingers deeper inside of him. 

Nikandros withdrew slightly, slowing his movements. He smirked.

Laurent slung an arm over his eyes. “Can you please just fuck me already?” His voice was higher than it had been a moment ago.

Nikandros considered making him wait longer, but he didn’t want him to be in pain, despite all evidence to the contrary. “Damen?”

“Go ahead. Take him on his back.”

Nikandros removed his slick fingers so he could shed himself of his slacks. He rolled on the condom before kneeling back between Laurent’s legs. He applied more lube, to himself and to Laurent’s twitching entrance.

Laurent was still hiding his face, so Nikandros took the offending arm and pressed it back into the pillows beside the phone, intertwining their fingers. Laurent looked up at him with wide eyes, his plush lips parted slightly. Nikandros thought he looked like an animal caught in a hunter’s trap.

Nikandros guided the tip in.

“He likes it slow and steady,” Damen provided.

“Fuck.” Nikandros didn’t mean to say it out loud as he eased himself inside. “He’s so damn tight, Damen. He’s gonna snap my fucking dick off.”

“Laurent, sweetheart, you’ve got to relax.”

“It hurts, Damen,” Laurent admitted in a small voice that Nikandros had never heard before.

“I know, I know. But Nik is gonna make you feel better.” A pause, then, “Why don’t you kiss him some more?”

Nikandros dropped his head to do just that, but Laurent jerked his chin away.

“Don’t kiss me. I…”

Nikandros took his chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing him to meet his gaze. He’d never seen a man look so vulnerable. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to Laurent’s.

And this kiss hurt like a brand, but Nikandros couldn’t pull away. He licked lazily into Laurent’s mouth as his hips began to move in small, fractional thrusts until Laurent relaxed between them.

“Good boy,” said Damen as Laurent moaned into Nikandros’ mouth. 

Nikandros pulled out to the tip, then thrust back in slowly, savoring the heat around him. 

Damen’s face was still lit up on the screen of Nikandros’ phone. “He likes it when you grind down once you’re all the way in. Don’t be afraid to put your weight into it either.”

Nikandros obeyed and Laurent moaned again and Nikandros had been wrong: he could be sweet. There was no other word for the arch of Laurent’s back, the rush of his breath across Nikandros’ chin. Laurent’s free hand settled hesitantly onto Nikandros’ side, then his nails bit into the flesh there as Nikandros ground himself deeper.

They fell into a rhythm. Laurent’s own hips began to do little circles in time with Nikandros’ thrusts. Damen had fallen silent on the phone, save for the occasional draw of a heavy breath.

Laurent’s nails dug in harder, his face scrunching almost as if he’d tasted something bitter. He began to let out soft little, “ah, ah, ah”s with every movement that stuttered halfway through the sound.

“He’s close,” Damen said, then cursed. “ Fuck. Don’t speed up. Just keep that pace.”

“Yes,” said Nikandros.

Laurent’s back rose off the bed, his heels digging into Nikandros’ backside. Pushing him deeper, harder. Nikandros resisted the urge to pin his knees to his chest and drive him as deep into the mattress as he could. To pound into him until neither of them could form a coherent sentence. He had to keep his head on his shoulders. He had to—

Laurent came hard with a gasp, his legs shaking as he painted his own chest and belly.

Nikandros gritted his teeth and dropped his brow against Laurent’s. He fucked him through the orgasm, slow, balls tightening with every little shift that Laurent made. 

Laurent’s breathing was ragged, his legs like vices. He let go of Nikandros’ side to grip the back of his neck and said, “Come in me. Please, Damen, I—”

Nikandros fell face first into senselessness. He unhooked one of Laurent’s knees and forced it up. Leaning back, he snapped his hips brutally into Laurent’s, doubling the pace.

“Ah, fuck, wait. I just came. Wait, I’m—”

“Shut up,” Nikandros growled, leaning his whole weight into Laurent. The edges of his orgasm rushed at him, blinding him, pummeling him. He slammed into the hilt, groaning as his body trembled.

He breathed.

In the aftermath, that was all he could do. Dimly, he was aware of more spend now coating both his and Laurent’s torsos, as if Laurent had come a second time. Laurent’s breaths were like hiccoughs in his ear and for a moment, Nikandros thought he was crying.

He shot up. “Oh my god. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Laurent curled into the hand Nikandros had instinctively placed on his cheek. Revealed, he wasn’t crying, but gasping, catching his breath. His eyes, when they opened, were the color of the spring Nik and Damen had swum in as boys. “I’m okay,” he whispered.

“Fuck.” Nikandros flopped onto his back. He didn’t even have the energy to take the condom off.

He was aware of Laurent rising and retreating to the bathroom. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Nikandros knew he should apologize, but his fractured mind couldn’t figure out what for. He hadn’t meant to lose control like that, even if he’d made Laurent come a second time. 

He rolled onto his side and discarded the condom in the bin under his nightstand. Cursing some more, he patted the bed for his phone, then realized Laurent had taken it with him.

“...Of course I will. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Love you too.” Laurent returned from the bathroom and tossed Nikandros’ phone at him. “Damen says ‘thanks.’”

Nikandros blinked, then blinked again as he found himself pushed onto his back. Laurent produced a damp rag and wiped his own come from Nikandros’ chest.

“You don’t have to—”

“Just shut up, please?” Laurent sighed, then threw the rag in the bin. He sat on the edge of the bed, clad in one of Nikandros’ shirts. “Damen also said you have to hold me.”

“I… what?”

Laurent nodded. “It, uh, yeah. And I’m not supposed to go home until he gets back. But I can leave if you don’t—”

“No. No.” Nikandros shifted over, making space. “He’s right. I’m not just gonna let you pack your shit and go like this was a one night stand.”

The last part just slipped out, but Laurent didn’t correct him. He laid down awkwardly on the edge of the bed, all long limbs and sharp elbows. 

Nikandros pulled him closer. “Are you okay?” he asked again, the words disturbing the hair at the base of Laurent’s neck.

Laurent nodded, then turned over in his arms. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah.” They were practically nose-to-nose.

Laurent set a hesitant hand on his chest. “I wasn’t calling you Damen. I know the difference. I was going to ask him if I could see when he came too.”

“Oh. I hadn’t realized…”

“Really?”

“God, just go to sleep. I just know you’re going to harass me about it.”

A smile curled the edges of Laurent’s lips. “I still hate you, you know?”

“The feeling is mutual.”

[0alanasworld0]

Overdue Dinner (Hakim Ziyech x reader)

Description: Hakim finally gives into the pressure (and his own wishes) and takes you out on a date.

Warnings: none

“So you know how we’ve been friends for a while now right?”

“Right…”

“And we’re really close, like super close!”

“Uh-huh”

“And we both get along really well…”

“Hakim-”

“I mean I don’t know about you but I certainly don’t have a connection like this with anyone els- i certainly hope that the feeling is mutual here otherwise that’d be really awkward and-”

“I’d love to go out with you!” you rush before he can continue rambling. As adorable as it is, you just can’t contain your excitement. He really likes you back! 

“How did you guess?” he asks in a bit of shock. Had you known this entire time? How embarrassin-

“Mason kinda tipped me off”

“That idiot can’t keep it shut, I tell him one personal thing and he’s yelling from the rooftops!” he huffs.

“Well this is Mase we’re talking about here… and it worked out pretty well this time, wouldn’t you say?” He smiles and nods

“Is 6:30 tomorrow good? I’ll come over to your place to pick you up?” You nod as you walk up to him, giving him a small hug.

“I can’t wait!”

Which leaves him waiting at your doorstep, smoothing out his suit and looking over himself to make sure that everything is perfect, grip tightening on the tulips he bought you as the door opens. You look as stunning as ever and he loses his words for a second.

You immediately totter over to give him a huge, your face glowing with a big smile. As soon as you let go, he holds the flowers to you, still not knowing what to say.

“Wow, you look gorgeous um… these are for you. Your favourites, right?”

“Oh Hakim, you absolute sweetheart, you remembered! Why don’t you come in while I get a vase for these?” You gently pull him in before he can say anything, which he’s grateful for. The pair of you are finally taking the next step after pining for so long. He’s also grateful for Mason’s blabber-mouth. 

“So, any hints on where you’re taking me?” you ask as you turn the tap on.

“You know me better than that, sweets. That would ruin all the fun!” You turn back to narrow your eyes at him, tongue sticking out in childish protest.

“Hey! Don’t give me that look, today has to be special! You kept my birthday gift under wraps for the months that you had been working on it!” you hum in vague agreement as you walk up to him.

“Touche” you reach to readjust his tie and his breath hitches with how close you are. Back to being your adorable self, you wrap him in a hug once again. When you let go, he holds your hand gently, walking you over the car and opening the door for you to get in. ever the gentleman. 

When he gets in the driver’s seat, he immediately goes to squeeze your thigh gently. 

“Can you believe it took us this long to get here?”

“You’re telling me, I thought Mase was making his dumbass jokes the entire time.” you say with a laugh as he chuckles.

“He is an idiot but he has a good eye for these things, I have to hand it to him.” you hum in agreement. 

The car ride to the destination is filled with your cackles as Hakim completely botches the lyrics to the songs on the radio. 

“If they wanted me to pay attention, they should have made these ‘songs’ sound more like songs and less like a bunch of cats in a barrel” he defends as you try to catch your breath. His plan to keep you from your usual habit of looking out of the window for the whole journey working perfectly.

Before you know it, you reach your destination and your eyes tear up upon realisation.

“You said you hadn’t been here since you were a kid right? ‘Best prawn-fried rice you’d ever eaten?’” He asks nervously, slightly scared by your silence. 

“How do you manage to remember everything about me?” your voice quivers as tears of happiness threaten to spill.

“I’ve been planning this for a while, believe it or not-” You wrap him in the tightest hug that you can. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, holding the back of your head, thanking his ability to over-plan everything.

You walk over to the entrance together, hands intertwined as the maitre-d’ welcomes you both with a bright smile.

“Reservation for Ziyech?” Hakim nods, hand squeezing yours as you walk over to the fanciest booth in the house.

‘Y’know, when I was a kid, I always wanted to be in this booth. I used to go to ‘grab napkins’ and just linger around so I could pretend to be there…” you trailed off as you looked around at the lavish decor of the booth, admiring the view of the canal you got. You’re too entranced by it all to notice how Hakim is looking at you. Spending the latter part of many years as friends had been eating away at him for longer than he could believe. Everything about you was just ethereal. Why in the world did he wait so lo-

“Hakim? Everything okay?” your soothing voice lulls him out of the daydream as he reaches over the table for your hands, rubbing circles into them with a soft, love-drunk smile on his face. 

“Couldn’t be any better” he sighs joyfully. You blush lightly at his behaviour, he’s always been affectionate with you but the true meaning of it has only recently become apparent to you. Finally!

Once your food arrives and you take the first bite of your childhood dish, closing your eyes and humming in pleasure as he waits expectantly for your reaction.

“Nothing has changed! YOU are a genius, Hakim.” You say, pointing to him with wide eyes as he shakes his head, laughing at your antics. 

The meal goes without a hitch. He has you almost snorting up your drink a couple times as he retells some of his favourite stories.

“No, I’m telling you he was just standing there! 3 of us ran right past him with the ball and he didn’t move an inch! How does your brain just switch off like that?!” He exclaims with a laugh, revelling in your giggles. He hopes he can hear that everyday from you now.

You’re still halfway through your meal until you notice him poking around his. You narrow your eyes in suspicion to see the mushrooms sneakily slid off to the side.

“Can I have a mushroom?” He looks up, raising an eyebrow as a challenge.

“What if I like my mushrooms?”

“Pushing them to the side is a sign of liking them now? You hate mushrooms!”

“Maybe I save them until last because I love them so much” he shrugs, popping one into his mouth and you swear you can see him shudder in disgust. Reaching over with your fork to pick one up, you ask again.

“Pleeeeeease may I have a mushroom?”

‘No-” his denial is meaningless as you quickly pop it into your mouth and hum at the taste. Laughing in triumph as his mouth opens slightly in shock and slight offence.

“The nerve of it all!” He exclaims as you struggle to catch your breath.

“I’m doing you a favour! I don’t deserve to be slandered like this!” he rolls his eyes as a small smile makes its way onto his face.

You give it a few minutes before coming up with something else.

“How much are you gonna pay me if I eat ALL of this?” you wager

“You mean the meal that you ordered?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. You were an odd person to say the least but he absolutely adored you for it.

On Hakim’s worst days, he always knew that he had you. Being so heavily scrutinised for things out of his control was a norm for him but there were days where it hurt more than others. Somedays he just felt completely sidelined and ignored by the people who were supposed to be lifting him up and pushing him to be the best. Some days he just missed the people who made him feel like home, like he mattered. Those days were the toughest yet you were always a phone call away from coming over and cheering him up. How, throughout all of that, the pair of you remained “just friends” was beyond him now. 

"You're really pretty, y'know?" you say, forever lacking a filter. he blushes at the random compliment and looks down with a smile.

"I mean, your smile is something else too but I can't see it if I'm looking down, can I?" you tease as he chuckles

"I mean it's all very high praise coming from you, can you blame me?" It's your turn to blush now as he smirks.

The meal comes to a close after you coax even more laughs out of each other and you’re both kicking yourselves internally for not going down this path sooner together.

As you’re leaving the restaurant, with your hand intertwined with his, you walk to the car together in a comfortable silence. Before he opens the car door for you, you turn around and look at him. He’s confused for a second until you take a step closer and gently pull his face to yours for a sweet kiss. He immediately relaxes into it, wrapping his arms around you, keeping you as close as possible and you both smile into it. You pull away reluctantly to catch your breath as you look into his sparkling, brown eyes. You don’t want this night to end and you can’t wait until the next date.

The drive home is peaceful with you pointing out some of the places you recognised from your childhood, Hakim taking a mental note of it all for future reference. At one of the stop lights, he reaches a hand over to squeeze your thigh lightly and you can’t bring yourself to look at him as you blush.

You see your apartment as he makes the turn and parks his car and you lament the fact that the night is over. You walk over to the door together and this time, he’s the one to pull you into a kiss. This one lasts a little longer since neither of you can really bear to be apart for the moment.

“Remember to thank Mason” he rolls his eyes and smiles at you.

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“No seriously though, today’s been perfect. I’m glad I got to share that piece of my childhood with you!”

“I’m just trying to give you what you deserve”  he replies, kissing your cheek before reluctantly letting go of the embrace. He’s already missing your warmth as you walk over to your door. 

“Text me when you get home!”

“Will do, ma’am” he salutes. you shake your head, smiling at how adorable he is.

Against all odds lol i hope you enjoy and have a wonderful day, my lovelies xxx

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

Art Credit: @/simibraun

Midnight Mum's

Headlights ran through the room you were sitting in. It was dark, save for the soft glow of the fire dancing around.

You stood up from the couch and peeked through the large living room window to see if it was your boyfriend getting home.

He had some friends from high school visiting and they all went out to catch up on life and all of its infinite happenings.

You could hear him laughing and talking as he built up to his goodbye.

"Yeah, yeah, my girl's prolly asleep by now. I'll hafta be quiet." Reiner said, way too loud.

His friends said something that you couldn't quite catch. But the way he responded to it, you assumed it was dirty.

You chuckled as you watched him stumble up the walkway to the door.

He bent over to ... tie his boot? No, he's picking a flower from his own garden.

"Oh my -- Reiner. You idiot." You said to yourself as you hurriedly closed the flue on the fireplace and jogged down the hall to your bedroom. You have no idea why you did this, but you wanted to pretend you were asleep when he got home.

His keys jingled in the door and then you heard it open as he kicked off his boots.

"Oh-kay, shhh, shhhh, shhhhh, Reiner. Baby is asleep. Ya gotta be qu- quiet. Ok. Where's the damn bathroom at. Why'd she move it. Pffffttt she can't move a bathroom. Duh, dipshit." He always talks to himself when he drinks. It's one of the things about him you find so sweet. Stupid, but sweet.

You hear everything. Him talking to himself. He doesn't say anything incriminating - not that you'd ever assume he would do something awful. He just talks about what he's doing. How he brushes his teeth, flosses and rinses out with the mouthwash that "burns like a bitch."

It makes your heart swell with love for him, these rare occasions he lets loose. He's usually your watchful eye. Always choosing to be the designated driver so you can embark on a little journey of self-indulgence.

You always make it up to him when you get home, though. So he never really complains.

"Shit, forgot to lay out something to sleep in. Au naturel it is, then. Hmph. Serves me right. Drunken asshole -" He chuckles softly to himself as he thinks he's sneaking quietly down the hall to get into your shared room.

When you heard him say he forgot to lay out something to change into for bed, you quickly ripped your clothes off. It wasn't anything special that you were wearing. Just an old t-shirt with some band he used to listen to on the front. Your panties weren't even that sexy. Cute, sure. But not sexy.

The door softly creaked open and you heard his breathing immediately after he stepped inside.

What you didn't expect was him standing beside the bed for a couple of minutes. You assumed he was looking at you, your bottom half covered and your top half for the taking.

His breathing changed, it quickened. It got deeper and a little faster.

Oh, how you wanted to roll over like he'd woken you. But you clung to what little resolve you had. Knowing he was just inches away from you, naked. Drunk. The thought of his fingers grazing over your skin was starting to turn you on.

"Hmm ... bed. Oh, oh god, fuck I love this bed. You did so good pickin' it out baby. S'soft. But like, firm. Firrrrrmmm and s'soffffttt. S'perfect, baby. Jus' like you. Mm-hmm. Jus' ... *yawn* ... like ... *stretch* ... you.

He rolled to his left side to throw his right arm over your exposed waist but when he did he 'accidentally' tucked it up under your breast.

You stirred a little. Rubbing your bare ass against his half-hard cock. You knew it was all for a reason. But he thought you were just being sweet, trying to cuddle up closer to him in your sleep. The way your body misses him after a long day of being apart from each other.

"Ohh ffffuhh-hoo. I'm home, baby. You snuggin' in close on purpose? Or you just wanna be closer to me? I missed you t'night. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout ya."

He tucked his face into the back of your neck and inhaled so deeply it made you shiver against him.

"Hey, you 'wake? Did'ja hear me? I missed ya, all night long. Wan'ned to call but my boys put a drink in my face everytime I mentioned your name. That's why m's'drunk. Heyyy, where are your clothes?"

Reiner reached down to let his hand graze your ass.

"Oh f- baby, you're ... you're not wearin' any clothes." He ran his hand across the warm skin and nudged your shoulder with his nose. Kissing in between breaths.

You rolled onto your back and put your right arm above your head, praying he wouldn't tickle you. This didn't feel like it was headed toward a tickle sort of night, though.

He accommodated your shift in position and scooted back a ways.

Laying there, just staring at you like he'd stumbled upon some beauty down at the hidden part of the beach. Lounging in the sun with no cover whatsoever.

"God, you're testin' me tonight. And I'm gonna fuckin' fail. So hard. M'gonna fail. But that's all right, 'cause t'morrow is a brand new day. I'll be better t'morrow. K? God? Thank you for this meal which m'bout to receive."

He ran his rough hands over your breasts to perk your nipples. "Oh god ... you're so fuckin' soft, baby."

You wanted to jump on him. You could feel how hard he was at this point. It was driving you crazy playing this game. And with who? Who were you playing with? Yourself? By yourself. Hoping there was still a way you could win, you moaned a little in your fake sleep state and threw your right leg over his left one.

Luckily, you often sleep tangled or splayed out on one another. So this probably seemed perfectly normal to him, how you laid just then.

"Thaaat's right, such a good girl. Even ready f'me in your sleep. Goddamn ..."

He ran his middle finger up the middle of your cunt, spreading your lips open just enough that he could dip his finger inside you.

"How - wh - you're s'wet, baby. You have some fun while I was out t'night? Or you just reactin' to me bein' this close to ya? Mmm, I wish you'd wake up."

Sucking your juices off of his finger he positioned himself right between your legs. Throwing both of your knees up over his broad shoulders, he grabbed you gently around the thighs and pulled you down a little bit.

"M'gonna have a midnight snack now, ok, baby? I need somethin' on my stomach ... other'n beer n'whiskey. You've been warned."

When Reiner said 'you've been warned', that usually meant 1 of 2 things: He was going to eat you like he'd die if he stopped or he was going to be so gentle and take his time with you so much so that you wouldn't know what the fuck to do with yourself.

You kinda hoped it was the latter. You missed him ... a lot. And you loved it when he came home to you after being apart. Whether it was for 9 hours or a week. You two always reconnected immediately.

It was one of your favorite things about being with him; how he always wanted to bridge the gap. No matter how large or small.

He started off lower than he usually does. Kissing your ankles and massaging your feet a little bit. You relaxed about the tickling. If he was going to tickle you at all, he'd have done it when you tossed your arm up and left your pit wide open. You weren't worried about your feet at all.

You did shift again, though, not much. Just opening yourself up further for him. As if subconsciously, like one of those dreams that seems too real, you made room for him between your legs.

"You're gonna wish you were 'wake for this, baby. I swear ... I'm only sorry m's'drunk. But I'll remember. Y'know what, doll, maybe I'll just set up my phone over there to record this. Jus' so I can show you later how good I made you feel in your sleep. Ahh, no. Then I'll have to move. I don't wanna move."

Reiner situated himself between your thighs, sucking and licking on both of them before he exhaled heavily on your wetter-than-it should-be-while-you're-sleeping cunt.

His breath made you moan a little. The soft heat of it all washes over your most sensitive spot. He looked up at you as his tongue met with your spread lips, licking such soft swipes on your clit.

You were almost out of your mind at this juncture. Watching him eat you out was almost spiritual. His eyes never left yours as he dragged his tongue over your pussy. It was so hard to keep quiet and not whip your eyes open to see his beautiful face stuffed in between your thighs.

He memorized the faces you made with how he moved his mouth. Reiner knew exactly what the fuck he was doing to you.

You were losing this little stupid game you were trying to play. Did he know you're awake? Is he doing this on purpose?

Words were right on the tip of your tongue while you were right on the tip of his.

How content he was, holding you open, lapping at your clit.

You were doing ok until he slid 2 of his calloused fingers into you. He prodded you with his fingers, feeling around for just ... the ... right ...

"Hmm, Rei'."

… spot. 

Oopsie.

"Heyyyy baby girl. There ya are. So sweet, waking up for me. Hi." He cooed. "I didn't think you'd ever wake up. But I got'cha. I know how to get'cha up."

He pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, watching your face. You knew he'd never let you live this down and he knew you were awake the whole time.

"You're so good, Reiner. So good. You get me every time." You giggled and reached your hand out to the back of his head to tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing his face back down to your pussy.

He moaned against you as he licked and sucked on your clit. You felt like you were getting close already, he could tell. You were breathing heavily, you had your right hand on his head and your left hand over your mouth.

"Mm-mm. No coverin' up. Lemme hear ya." Reiner took your hand and laid it on his back, he put his right hand on your lower stomach to rub your clit with his thumb while he worked his tongue in and out of your pussy.

"Ahh, god. Reiner, I'm gonna cum, please -" You couldn't hold back anymore. You just needed to feel him.

He pulled his fingers out and moved his mouth over your opening, sucking and licking and moaning like he was the one getting the orgasm of a lifetime.

He kept it up until you came all over his tongue.

"That's my girl. Cum for me, baby. I love it. I love it." He whispered softly as you rocked against his mouth.

You weren't even tired. You didn't know what time it was but you knew it was late.

Reiner crawled up to you and laid beside you.

You rolled onto your side to face him.

"Hi." You said quietly, your body still feeling the effects of him working his magic on you.

"Hi yourself." He smiled, licking his lips.

"You tired?" You asked, walking your fingers around the hair just above his pelvic bone.

"Mm-mm. Not yet." Reiner leaned in to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips. It drove you crazy (in the best way, of course) how much he loved to taste you. You didn’t really understand and every time you bring it up, he just shakes his head and says not to worry about it. He “fucking loves it and that’s all that matters.” 

You reached down to wrap your hand around his cock, slowly stroking it. He closed his eyes and groaned in your ear.

"Fuck, baby. I want you so bad." He opened his eyes to look at you as you scooted down to lay between his legs.

You wasted no time, taking his entire length in your mouth. He bucked his hips up and let out a soft "ahhhh, fuck."

You bobbed up and down, running your tongue across the bottom of his dick. He grabbed a handful of your hair and held it back for you, so he could watch you work.

"I'm gonna cum, baby. Do you - do you wanna swallow or -"

You looked up at him and shook your head no.

"Ok. Ok." He was trying not to lose his cool. He was trying so hard.

You stroked him as you pulled your mouth off of him, licking the tip and smiling up at him.

"I want it ..." Reiner let out a long sigh as you climbed up his body and sank yourself down on top of his hard cock. "... here. Can you cum for me in here, Rei'? Please? It feels so fucking good when you cum inside of me."

You gave him your best innocent look as you began to ride him.

Reiner held onto your waist, bucking up into you and kissing your breasts as you bounced up and down on his cock.

He moaned your name as he felt himself getting closer to his peak.

"Oh, shi-. Oh baby, fuck..." he grunted and groaned as he came inside of you, filling you up and gripping your waist so tight it was like he was afraid to let you go.

"Stay with me, baby. Stay with me, right here, please." He whispered as he came down.

You laid on top of him, your head on his chest. You could feel his heart beating fast, and it made you smile.

He rubbed your back as you listened to his breathing slow down.

"I have something for you." He said softly.

"You mean more than what you just gave me?" You asked.

It was quiet for a minute.

"Mm-hm, s'over on the nightstand. I wanted it to be the first thing you saw in the morning. Well, after me, I mean." He gently guided you back down onto your spot in the bed and he climbed over your legs to reach for it.

"You didn't have to get me anything, Reiner." you said as you squeezed his ass.

"Oh, no. I know. It's really nothin'. Was just comin' home and saw it and I remembered the day we planted them in the front. I jus' wan'ned to give ya this."

He handed you a chrysanthemum and watched your face light up. 

“Doesn’t smell or look as pretty as you always do, but I,” he scratched the back of his neck and looked up at you from under his brows, “well, I just wanted to give this to you.” 

 Your heart was exploding in your chest.

You sat up to kiss him and he wrapped his arms around you.

You felt so safe and secure in that moment. You never want your time with this man to end.

"I'm gonna put this in water and then ... Do you want to try and get some sleep?" You asked, rubbing his arm.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you, baby. You're so sweet." He smiled and laid back on the bed as you walked over to the bathroom to rinse out a small vase.

You smiled to yourself as you put the single flower in the water.

You sighed happily as you stared at the flower on the nightstand and felt his grip on you tighten. 

You were going to cherish that memory for the rest of your days. Together. Him and you. Just like this. Just as it should be.

[tetsunabouquet]

Basic Instinct Chapter 15

A/N: At this point, I'm expecting you all know any warnings that might follow and that you're well-prepared! The rescue mission is about to commence~ Masterpost

Akashi had carefully packed a backpack he was given for a school trip once. It came in handy now, that's for sure. He went over the things he had packed: A few clothing items so he wouldn't show up completely empty handed in simply his PJs at his grandmother's doorstep. His toothbrush. His phone, it had all his account informations and unlike his laptop didn't take a humongous amount of space. His wallet- even if his father were to block his bank account, he'd still need things like his ID. The stuffed lion his mother had gotten him went too. He didn't really sleep with it anymore, but he couldn't bear to leave it behind, not when it reminded him so strongly of his mother, and happy childhood days. The ones he was allowed to have, at least. He didn't knew what was going to happen to his school life, but he packed his notebook just in case his grandma found a way for him to continue attending Rakuzan. A few more important trinkets that were gifted to him by his loved ones, a bracelet of his mother's that he had held onto, a funny Christmas sweater given by Kotaro, a tiny bronzen Emperor's pinguin- one of Midorima's old lucky items that he'd given Akashi, cute socks that Reo bought for him after he tore a hole in one of his socks practicing with him on the streets and the scarf you had lend him once that he refused to give back to you because it smelt just like your soft, pretty hair. He even used the shoelaces of his basketball-shoes to tie them to his backpack, something Aomine would often do. 'I can't believe I criticized Aomine for this, only to do it myself two years later. I suppose that idiot has the occasional functionable plan.' Hell certainly must have frozen over, for Akashi to give Aomine a compliment over his thinking. He faked going to bed, though he made sure to sneak one of his jackets into his room. When it was time, he quickly put on his shoes and he shrugged his jacket on as he went over his backpack one final time. This was it. He was fleeing from his childhood home, leaving the familiar building he knew for as long as he could remember, behind. And depending on his father, he might never come back. Never would he see Yukimaru again, or walk through the garden remembering the flowerbeds his mother had loved best. Never would he see his father sitting at the same table again. The memories of his father made Akashi pick up the backpack with a pained, heartbroken scowl on his face. 'I cannot believe I have to flee my own home, from my own parent, in order to be happy. Why can't he just let me be happy?' He blinked and prepared for tears to fill his eyes once more, but they wouldn't come. There was pressure, but nothing would come out. He had already cried all of his tears, and now there was only this horrible feeling at his eyes. Like trying to vomit on an empty stomach, where nothing would come out. He did had a massive headache though. He had almost forgotten, one could get a headache from crying too much. He hadn't cried that hard since his mother died. He went across the stairs in a daze, and met up with Fujioka, Umemiya and Yuuki. The group went silently to Masaomi's Lotus, and with utmost precision, Umemiya put Akashi's backpack in the trunk, and Akashi caught glimpses of the servants' belongings. Akashi felt a pang with guilt, but all three of them smiled at him with such warmth that he knew, they were doing so because they cared and that he'd have nothing to apologize for. It touched him so deeply, that he wished he could still cry, because he didn't knew how to express his gratitude enough. But he couldn't make a scene and alert everyone. He sat silently at the back of the car, Umemiya seated himself at the driver's seat, and Yuuki sat next to him on the passenger's seat. Fujioka sat next to him, and almost immediately put his hand on Akashi's shoulder, rubbing him with kindness. Akashi couldn't stop himself from leaning against his butler, needing the comfort. His butler held him as the car began to drive, and he sobbed with no tears into the man's shirt.

When they arrived at the Kaneshiro place, it was still very early in the morning. They had agreed to unceremoniously sleep in the car, and restore some energy before they would present themselves to Akashi's grandmother. Akashi did not object to the idea, as the three servants in front of him were as trustworthy as his friends and cared for him more then his own father. Yuuki immediately fell asleep, slumping in the passenger's seat with utter exhaustion. Umemiya made sure her head was supported by a soft traveller's pillow, before he nodded off himself. Fujioka was the last of the servants to fall asleep, and he had never stopped rubbing Akashi's back before sleep finally took over him. But Akashi couldn't sleep, he wanted to let you know what was happening. And as he quietly went through the trunk, through his backpack, he felt at peace with his decision. He grabbed his phone, and his stomach dropped as he saw a small chain of texts, from you.

-Sei, I don't now where to start! My mom's completely beyond any reason! Though I bet your dad is too.

Sometimes I genuinely wonder if she gets off on my tears.

I'm tired of parents just having kids to fullfill their own needs and duties. We need them, not the other way around. Sometimes, I wonder if she ever actually sees me for who I really am, instead of an image she build her wishes and delusions around.

She always lets me fix her mess, be the responsible one and when I was to just be myself and be young, she gets angry because thanks to her BPD she sees me as an extension of herself, not as an individual human being. She drags me around like her ragdoll because she wants to do fun stuff and have a companion on her days off, she decides what I wear because my outfit choices are 'stupid'.

Before puberty, she wouldn't even allow me to decide my own haircut, as she'd always cut it in this stupid bob that she thinks looks cute on kids and that's how she always wore her hair as a kid. When I always wanted to grow out my hair like Rapunzel but for as long as I can remember my mom has been jealous for having beautiful hair.

I bet your father has a hair dresser unleashed upon you to ensure you don't get edgy haircuts that can be used as a joke by the other elite kids, he seems as controlling as my own alright.

Anyways I hope you're okay. I wish at least one of us was. I love you, no matter how this ends, know that. XXX Y/N-

Akashi gritted his teeth, and with a deep breath, he closed his eyes. 'I knew her mother would be livid too.

God, tell me how do I save her too?'

[i-would-have-come-for-you]

Can't Love you in the dark (Chapter 1: Now)

There's trouble in the air, I can smell it

_________

Now:

They say there is no telling when fortune will knock on your door.

A domino effect started by something insignificant you did could pay up to be the best decision you've ever made.

In the metropolitan city of Konoha, it was usually the opposite.

When misfortune knocked on your door, it didn't just rain- it poured.

Konoha wasn't simply a place- one of the most unsafe cities in the world due to the high criminal activity and illegal trades going on, according to international statistics.

It was a pulsing body with each part of it connected; from the rich, upper area of the city, housing politicians and bureaucrats and mafia bosses alike; the sections of the city where normal people lived, trying to make do between the upper and the criminal class of the city, always somewhere in between; right to the downtown area where the homeless or the drunk resided in the grimy alleys, the shabby apartment buildings with the bleak hungry faces of the residents looking out from dark windows and the criminal class in the soothing cover that the darkness and oftentimes rain provided.

There was also the area around Konoha, part of the territory but not under the government's control. It held warehouses and storage for the many industries in the city. Or so it was said. But everyone knew to keep away from places like that. In fact, it was better to keep your head down and mind your own business in Konoha, lest you catch unwanted eyes.

It was another night in a warehouse like the ones mentioned above, when the sleek black car pulled up outside the iron gates. The guard posted on the gates didn't seem surprised by the appearance of the vehicle or by the horrifying sounds coming from inside.

Shikamaru stepped outside the car, motioning for the driver to wait for him. He regarded the warehouse, slowly taking a drag from the lit cigarette in his hand as he thought about something. He eyed the paper-fan on the side of the warehouse, indicating it belonged to Uchiha Weapons and Co.

"What a drag," he muttered, taking one last drag of the cigarette before crushing it underneath his boot. As he exhaled, he brought up his hand to fix his tie before he walked towards the entrance. The guard seemed almost bored as he nodded at him and let him go through.

The warehouse was dimly lit, crates of weapons arranged meticulously. Shikamaru had overseen the unloading of the shipment just two days ago. He also knew what was going on in the warehouse right now.

He made his way to the innermost area of the warehouse, almost like the heart of the place. The room was lit up- so bright it was almost white. Shikamaru squinted as his eyes got used to the light.

There was a man, strapped to the chair directly in the center of the room. He looked worse for wear, bleeding from his mouth and nose. He seemed to be whimpering softly, shaking his head.

In front of him, with his back to Shikamaru, Sasuke was standing tall, hands in his pocket, examining the man strapped. There were two other men standing on either side of the chair, their hands bruised and red.

Sasuke turned partially at the sound of his footsteps, although his features didn't shift from boredom. His dark hair was slightly disheveled on his forehead. "Ah, Shikamaru," he greeted while turning his head back towards the man. "Have you come to see our special guest?"

Shikamaru rolled his eyes as he went to stand next to his boss. Sasuke was so dramatic sometimes. "Do you really have to do the whole villain routine every time?"

"How else am I supposed to have fun?" the other man countered with a smirk. Upon closer inspection, Shikamaru could identify that the man's hands were definitely broken, his nails torn out savagely.

"He spilled the details?" he asked.

"Fucking idiot," Sasuke smirked, his hands emerging from his pocket with a cigarette and a lighter. He placed the cigarette in his mouth and bent his head to light it. He took a drag before speaking again. "He wasn't even working with someone else,"

Ah. "Just ambitious?" Shikamaru guessed.

Sasuke bobbed his head once. "And look where it's gotten him,"

The man seemed to become conscious. "Please," he whispered his voice hoarse- probably from screaming. "Please forgive me, please,"

Sasuke tsked.

"I hate it when they don't die with dignity," he muttered.

He simply turned and started walking away. "Make it quick," he said while looking back to the men standing next to the chair. Shikamaru watched the strapped man, Kaede. He had been stealing from the shipments, in hopes of no one noticing.

But if there was anything Sasuke hated more than his enemies, it was traitors.

He had no interest in watching this man beg before dying, so he followed Sasuke out of the room, into the warehouse.

"You're trying out mercy now?" he asked Sasuke, referring to his orders of making Kaede's death quick.

"I was done playing with my food," Sasuke replied, puffing out smoke. "What the hell brought you here?"

"You weren't in your office,"

"I was bored. I decided to overlook this one's interrogation myself,"

"I need to talk to you,"

"Obviously," Sasuke turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "You would never deign to ruin your shoes in this part of town otherwise,"

Shikamaru sighed. "It's really important,"

"I'm not in the mood," Sasuke said finally.

"I don't give a fuck about your mood," Shikamaru grit out. "You need to see this,"

Sasuke must have sensed the desperation in his voice as he stopped and stared at his face. He threw down the cigarette and sighed. "This better be good or it's going to be you in the chair later,"

"Oh trust me," he said instead.

____________

They drove to Sasuke's house in silence almost. Apart from the occasional sounds coming from outside, the car was silent. But still, it wasn't uncomfortable. It never was.

Shikamaru was used to the young mafia boss's silence and dark moods. It'd been particularly worse since some years and it would only get worse from today, he thought. He involuntarily clenched his fist. His head was still reeling and it'd been 2 weeks since he'd come to know what he was about to tell Sasuke.

Sasuke replied to emails while they drove and for a second, it was so easy to believe that he was just another spoiled CEO who got the weapons company in his inheritance like all the other rich people in Konoha. But then he looked up from the screen, no doubt feeling Shikamaru's stare, and the sharpness of his stare could have cut steel.

Shikamaru knew the things he'd done and the things that had made him who he was today. He saw Sasuke bloody his hands and do the dirty work it took to keep everything- his legal and illegal enterprises- afloat.

But then again, he'd known him for most of his life and he still missed the boy who was more curious than stoic and the young man who smiled with his eyes instead of smirking blankly with his mouth.

"We're here,"

Shikamaru blinked at the announcement from Sasuke and realized that the car had stopped a while ago. Sasuke opened the door and climbed out. Shikamaru followed.

"You're acting like you've been hit in the head Nara," Sasuke remarked as they walked to the house, his tone doing well to conceal his puzzlement. "Are you coming onto me?"

He forced himself to scoff, even if his heart was beating fast and he did not want to break the news to his friend. "As if," he played along, "You're not my type,"

They opened the mahogany doors and he followed Sasuke into the open kitchen, squeaking clean and looking straight out of a magazine catalogue. Sasuke went to the back and brought out a bottle of whiskey with two glasses.

"I can tell this conversation is going to need alcohol," the mafia boss japed.

You have no idea, Shikamaru thought as he watched the other man pour a generous helping in both glasses and hand one to him.

He took a sip as soon as the glass was in his hand and Sasuke did the same, waiting for him to talk. Sasuke's posture suggested relaxed, even if Shikamaru knew he was close to reaching his limit with him.

"Okay, spit it out. What-," Sasuke started when Shikamaru couldn't take it anymore and reached his hand in his jacket pocket and threw out an envelope on the table. It was an unremarkable yellow envelope, used for standard mail.

Sasuke reached towards it and carefully opened the front. Shikamaru averted the gaze to his glass on the table as he sat very still. There was pin-drop silence in the kitchen, aside from the sound of paper shuffling in Sasuke's hand.

The other man stayed quiet for longer than Shikamaru had anticipated. "What is this" Sasuke's tone was deadly.

Shikamaru looked up. Sasuke looked furious. More than that, he looked like he was barely restraining himself from flinging himself onto Shikamaru and ending his life.

"Listen..."

"Is this a joke?"

"Sasuke- It's real,"

No one talked for a moment. Shikamaru continued. "I got these from one of the men I'd stationed to discreetly shadow after I found out,"

"It's simply not possible," Sasuke declared, throwing the photos down.

"I've seen it with my own eyes Sasuke," Shikamaru said with sadness.

Shikamaru watched him pick up the photos again and see them one by one. Sasuke became paler and paler as he continued. "When did you find out?"

"Two weeks ago, when I went to Suna to visit Temari,"

Sasuke nodded once. He calmly put down the photos. "Get out," he said.

"What-?"

Sasuke smashed his whiskey tumbler against the wall opposite to him. "Get out," he screamed.

Shikamaru had the sense to let his feet carry him out of the house. He stopped for a minute at the patio and looked back at the door.

He just had one thought.

God help us all.

_____________

Author note: We're starting in the thick of it. This story is my baby and I hope everyone loves the concept and aesthetics of this as much as I do. Leave me a comment with your thoughts and do share the story. If people want to read this and respond to it, I will continue but otherwise I really don't have enough energy to be starting new stories uselessly.

Until next time!

______________

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