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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months

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End of the Road || LH44

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader Summary: when you and your husband both have a surprise to share you find your plans for the future clashing Warnings: 18+ only, pregnancy, angst, fluff WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist

30th November 2025

You had waited two long years for this day to come. When Lewis had told you he was extending his contract with Mercedes back in 2023 you had struggled to accept it. You could feel your body clock counting down and wanted nothing more than to start a family with Lewis but refused to have him be a part time father because of his career. You knew he was made to be a father, you had seen it in every interaction with his nieces and nephews as well as his young fans, it was just a matter of finding the right time to retire.

That day had finally come.

You woke with a smile on your face and rolled over in Lewis’ arms to see him watching you, his own smile playing at his lips.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

There was no hiding your excitement as you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. Your hands rested on his chest, fingers tracing the tattoos that decorated his skin. “Are you excited, Lew?”

“I am,” he hummed as his large hands ran up your thighs to rest on your hips. “I actually have a surprise.”

Your smile grew and you dipped your head down to kiss him. “Me too.”

Lewis’ phone rang beside the bed and you saw Toto’s name flash up on the screen. With a groan, you climbed off your husband and went to start your morning routine before heading to the race. Soon, you told yourself, soon there would be no more early interruptions from team principles or blacked out SUVs arriving to take you to your next destination.

The paddock was electrifying and the crowds went wild for Lewis when he stepped out onto the grid for his final driver’s parade. You watched on proudly from the balcony above the Mercedes pit space with Roscoe by your side.

“I’m going to miss this,” you said as you bent down and scratched him under his chin. “You’re going to miss this too, or the extra attention at least.”

Roscoe looked up at you with sad eyes as if he could understand exactly what you were saying and you smiled. “But I promise you won’t be lonely. You’ll have some company soon enough.”

“And that is the end of the 2025 season. Sir Lewis Hamilton, the seven time world champion has officially won his long awaited eighth championship! What a career this man has had and he will be sorely missed by the teams and fans alike.”

Your throat was hoarse from all the screaming you had done in support of your husband as he crossed the finish line just ahead of Lando Norris to secure the title that had once been stolen from him. You couldn’t believe that after 18 years in Formula 1 he got to finish on a high. Nico Rosenberg was right to retire after winning his championship because it had been disheartening to watch so many other world champions fall down the rankings before losing their seats. It had been one of Lewis’ fears confessed in the late night conversations you shared on other ends of the world.

You picked up Roscoe and pulled a custom made shirt over his head before tucking his paws in the armholes and racing down to the pit lane. The Mercedes team made space for you to reach the metal barrier just as Lewis parked his car up one last time. Standing above the halo, he threw his fists up and let the cheers saturate his being for a moment, committing it to memory before he leapt down and kissed the car. A thank you, a farewell? You wouldn’t know.

He spotted you in an instant, flipping his visor up so you could see the tears shimmering in his eyes as he made his way over. His fingers traced the lettering that decorated the car with each step, ‘still I rise’, it was his mantra and his reminder. Those were the same letters inked across his shoulders and you had kissed them that morning before he pulled his shirt on.

Roscoe barked at his daddy’s approach and you barely kept him in your arms when Lewis reached you, pulling you both into a tight hug. His face was damp with sweat and tears when you kissed him but it didn’t register in your mind.

“I’m so proud of you!”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, darling.” His grin split his face and you could have stayed in that moment forever, but post race interviews were calling him away. “Remember that surprise?”

You nodded and he winked as he quickly stepped away to take the microphone held out to him, his fingers slipping from yours. Lewis waved to the crowd as he stepped onto the red carpet laid out and the first question had your stomach turning.

Rumours…there had always been rumours running rife around the paddock. There were rumours long before you stepped foot in the F1 world and there would be rumours long after you stepped out. But this rumour was one you hadn’t heard about.

Your ears started thrumming with the rush of blood to your head and you stopped hearing everything after Lewis smiled. You knew that smile. That was the relieved smile after successfully keeping a secret. That was the smile you had seen when he proposed to you, the same smile he had when he flew you to Barbados for your birthday.

“Yes, it’s true,” he said as he blocked one ear from the noise the crowd made. “Things changed, the seat came up unexpectedly and I said yes. I’ll be back here next year with Mercedes.”

Roscoe squirmed in your arms as you tried to take his shirt off and you placed him at your feet before he could hurt himself or you. Your hands scrambled to hold the metal as your chest began to tighten - the plans you had made together crumbling at the news.

“Roscoe!”

Your cry somehow caught Lewis’ attention over the deafening atmosphere and he turned to see his furbaby sneak under the barrier and run towards him. Dropping to his knee, still clutching the mic, Lewis greeted his regular sidekick in parc ferme.

“What’s this cute outfit?” Naomi asked with a smile as she knelt down too and read the print on the shirt you hadn’t finished removing. “Big brother?”

“I…I…” Lewis was lost for words as he read the rest and looked your way in shock. “Baby Hamilton?”

A silence spread as the microphone picked up the whisper and echoed it across the entire track. The cameras turned to you and you felt them zooming in on you, capturing the moment that was meant to be full of joy but you felt nothing except betrayal.

All eyes were on you as you nodded once, closing your eyes to hide the tears that were blurring your vision.

You didn’t hear your husband finish the interview, but you felt the moment he reached you. His presence was something you had always been attuned to and you felt the warmth of his palms before they cradled your cheek, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to your lashes.

“Open your eyes for me, beautiful,” he pleaded softly and you took a deep breath before they fluttered open. Pure joy met you on the face of the man who owned your heart, a happiness that came from deep within his soul as he dropped a hand to your abdomen. “We’re having a baby?”

“Can we–can we talk about this after?” you whispered after another sure nod. His brows instantly pulled into a frown but you ignored it as you took his hand and placed it on the rail. “You have a podium to claim, champ.”

He was torn as he ran a hand over this hair that you had spent hours painstakingly braiding for him before leaving Monaco but you eased his unease with a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, more than anything.”

“But not more than this sport.” His back stiffened as he turned away but it should have been impossible to hear the truth you uttered beneath your breath.

You waited as a good wife, a patient wife, should, but you wished you were far away from all things Formula 1. You watched your husband take the centre stage and receive the fruits of his labour, the race trophy and the promise of the coveted WDC trophy at the FIA awards in a week's time. You tried to smile as he placed his palm over his chest before pointing at you, knowing that your initials and date of the wedding were forever marked upon the skin he touched. It was a message he sent for you, one of the many ways he communicated his love over the years.

Somewhere along the way something had been lost in translation.

You paced the private room nervously while Roscoe snored loudly on the couch in the corner. Lewis should have returned to the motorhome already but he had likely been caught up in the crowds all wanting to congratulate him on his win and his impending fatherhood. A lot of the other teams had already left the paddock and the atmosphere was quickly quietening down outside the door.

The knots in your stomach tied tighter at the knock on the door and when you opened it to see Lewis’ security your palms grew sweaty. “Where’s Lew? Is he alright?”

“He’s alright, ma’am, but there’s quite a bit of activity around him so he thought we should get you back to the hotel first.”

It wasn’t the first time that the crowds had grown too large that he wanted to keep you away. Your safety was always his priority. “Okay, but who's with him?”

“FIA security have him covered.”

You nodded and grabbed Roscoe’s leash, clipping it to his collar as he slowly lifted his head and yawned. If you weren’t already stressed you would have laughed when he dropped his head back on his paws and closed his eyes. “Come on, Rosc, I can’t carry you everywhere. Work with me here.”

He seemed to sense the change in you and began to stretch, shaking his coat out before jumping off the couch and sidling up to your feet for a quick pat. “I think we are ready, Dwayne,” you confirmed as you looked around to make sure you hadn’t missed anything.Dwayne opened the door and stepped into formation with the rest of the team around you, sheltering you out of the building and along the busy paths to where the cars were parked. You had never really felt anxious when surrounded by security but it crept in as you saw just how many people were hanging around the Mercedes building. This was more attention than you were used to, this time it was aimed at you - or more accurately the child of a champion that you carried.

You had already showered and changed by the time your husband arrived at the five star hotel you would stay at for one more night. You heard the door beep as a key card was scanned before it opened and you untucked your legs from underneath you as he walked in.

Lewis looked drained as he shucked his jacket off and draped it over the coat rack with a heavy sigh. Your eyes followed him around the room to where he grabbed a chilled bottle of water and cracked it open. His steps were slow and unsure as he walked back, coming to a stop behind the couch. You listened to the quiet thud of the empty bottle being placed on the table before a hand rested either side of your body.

“Hi,” he greeted softly.

You tipped your head back into the cushion to look up at him before rolling your head to the side and kissing the wedding band on his hand. “Hi.”

“It’s been quite the day.”

His lips twitched with a smile at the scoff you made before you reached up to him. He dipped his head until your fingertips found his skin and pulled him the rest of the way down to capture his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered across your lips before pulling back and walking around the couch so he could see you properly, but he didn’t sit with you.

After a moment of watching him pace around the rug, you broke the tense silence. “You said you were going to retire.”

His eyes darted to your stomach as he ran his thumb over his lips, back and forth. “And you said you were going to wait.”

You placed your hand over the non-existent bump and sighed. “For what it is worth, I didn’t plan this - it just happened, but I thought the timing was some goddamn miracle. Until today.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“This changes everything, can’t you see that? I had a part time father who missed the big things because he wasn’t there, Lew, and I don’t want that for my child.” You wiped your eyes before you met his so he could see the hurt you felt. “You should have told me.”

“You should have told me.”

You laughed humorlessly and grabbed a pillow, cuddling it close as if it could hide the truth beneath it and pretend everything was okay. “Guess we both hate surprises.”

His pacing stopped dead in his tracks and he shook his head before he dropped to his knees at your feet and took your hand. “I don’t hate this surprise. Whatever else you think about me aside, I love that we are having a baby. You and me, darling. Our baby, like we always planned.”

“But you’ve made plans without me. What happens next year when you’re gone and I’m at home with a newborn? What if you miss her birth?”

“Her?” he asked as he looked up wide eyed.

“It’s too soon to find out,” you answered quietly. “I just have a feeling.”

He slowly pulled the pillow away from you before smiling as he ran the back of his fingers over your stomach. “I feel her too, strong like her mama.”

Something cracked in your chest as you finally felt the joy you were hoping for all afternoon. You saw the love and devotion he already had for his child, it was right there in his dark brown eyes that shimmered in the light of the chandelier.

“I’m sorry,” you choked, placing your hands over his.

“Me too” he rasped as he took the space beside you and pulled you onto his lap. His arms welcomed you home, offering warmth and security in their embrace while he pressed his lips to your forehead. “I’ll talk to Toto, darling, he’ll understand.”

7th December 2025

Lewis had attached himself to your hip and refused to leave your side until his name was called at the end of the awards. The final and most important trophy had been his goal for the past four years, its elusiveness at last coming to an end.

Pride radiated from you and everyone at the Mercedes table as your husband picked up the WDC trophy and kissed the polished metal.

“There’s so many people I have to thank for giving me the opportunity to win eight of these, but we would be here all night. I’ll stick to the main ones then: my beautiful wife, Y/N, who has been my biggest supporter, especially during those hard years, my not-as-beautiful team principal, Toto, for giving me a really fast car, and to all the engineers who built it. Thank you.”

Lewis looked at his reflection in the trophy and beside you Toto sniffled at what was to come. You reached over to squeeze his hand as Lewis cleared the lump in his throat.

“It’s been one hell of a journey getting here and I have met some very special people along the way, but, the most important one is yet to come and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. That is why I have chosen tonight to be the end of my road with Formula 1 but I will cherish the memories I made along the way as I start a new journey - one likely to be even harder to prepare for.”

“He’s going to be a great father,” Toto whispered as he wiped his eyes.

Your smile was beginning to ache from how long it had been on your face. “I know.”

“So,” Lewis hummed as the murmurs grew over the sudden change of heart he had compared to a week ago, “it is my honour to be the one to announce that Bianca Bustamante will be driving in Mercedes for 2026. Congratulations, Bi, you deserve it.”

Lewis held the trophy up for the flash of the photographers before leaving the stage and weaving his way back to your table. Everyone he passed gave him a standing ovation and Toto rose to meet him too, hugging each other tightly and sharing a few words of thanks before he returned to his seat beside you.

“You’re meant to thank your mum and your dad then move on,” you teased, “not make everyone cry.”

Lewis laughed, placing the trophy on table with the floral centrepieces. “Did Toto cry?”

You leaned into your husband’s side as his arm draped over your chair and you giggled with a nod. “Like a baby.”

Lewis looked at his old boss fondly before sending you a wink. “I guess I’ll just have to get used to that.”

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 rpf #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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fangirl-dot-com · 18 days

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😈Track 4 - I Did Something Bad

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Alex was standing by the iconic bright blue garage. It was almost time for the rest of the grid to arrive for testing, but he didn’t care about that. All he cared about was George’s post from three days ago. The paddle game and its players were still a mystery to him.

Who has George playing with? And why hadn’t he told him?

Weren’t they supposed to be best friends?

The Thai rolled his eyes as he scrolled through the numerous comments about how the two other players must have been Logan Sargeant and Y/n L/n. And if they were the players then that must mean that they will be the new Lamborghini drivers.

He scoffed out loud. “As if.”

“As if what?” a French voice sounded. Alex turned to look at his new rookie teammate. He tried to give the twenty-year-old a smile. He held up his phone, but the screen had gone dark Theo didn’t need to know that Alex was trying to find gossip like a middle-schooler.

“Just fan theories,” he muttered, opening his phone back up and exiting out of Instagram and back to his messages. His eyes widened as he read through the chat.

Theo’s eyebrow arched. “What’s wrong?”

“George wants us over by the media pen. We got to go.”

The two Williams drivers both started to quickly walk. Alex weaved through the crowds, turning back once every so often to see if Theo was still with him. For half a second, he remembered how he would just leave Logan to fend for himself. The American was often late getting to places because he didn’t know where anything was. At the time, Alex had said that he wasn’t responsible for his teammate.

But now as he was navigating the big crowds at Bahrain, he wished he had spent a little more time with Logan, making sure that he was ok.

However, that was in the past and Alex couldn’t waste time on it. Theo was his teammate now and Logan was off doing who-knows-what. On the inside, he was hoping to never run into the blond again. The American was just another sign of his mistakes.

He always believed that he was the superior of the two, often questioning James as to why Logan hadn’t been replaced farther into the season like Nyck had been.

The team principal always rolled his eyes at Alex.

“It’s because we aren’t Red Bull. We don’t want to drop Logan like Red Bull dropped you.”

That had stung, but Alex always internally laughed. Logan was inevitably dropped by Williams, just like he had been with Red Bull. The only difference is that Alex stayed and extended his contract. Was this how Max Verstappen felt?

Alex was so lost in thought that he didn’t see the back of someone and rammed into them.

“Oh, hey mate.”

Speak of the devil.

“Hi Max,” he greeted back, rubbing his chest. “Did your back get bigger or have you always been this broad.”

Max winced at the inuendo. Wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t be a string bean like Alex or George could be.

“Ah, Albono, no need to be jealous that Max can probably bench press more than you.”

The Dutchman internally smiled at the familiar Monegasque voice. Charles had made his way over the moment that Alex ran into Max.

Theo was right next to Alex still, reminding Charles of a lost puppy. He didn’t understand why Alex hadn’t let Logan do that last year if the Thai was fine with it this year. The Monegasque didn’t have time to ask before Lando and Oscar joined the bunch. His green eyes flitted over to George and Lewis who were whispering to each other.

Lando had a grin on his face as he greeted the four drivers.

“Hello mate.” The Briton clasped Max’s hand before going around. Oscar followed in suit.

Theo, a little nervous around the older drivers, tried to make conversation.

“How are the cars looking?”

Suddenly he had five pairs of eyes on him, which maybe would have made others shrink away, but the Frenchman didn’t want to appear weak.

Oscar’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “They look good. Maybe someone will win a race this year.” He poked Lando’s side, making the brunet squawk.

“I’ll win if Max decides to DNF.”

The group laughed a bit. Max responded with an huff.

“For the last time Lando, you need to be faster to beat me. I won’t let you pass and if I’m behind you, I’ll just pass you again.”

He had a cheeky grin making Lando pout.

Charles turned back to Theo and Alex.

“How are you two feeling about the cars?”

The two Williams drivers perked up. They had been working hard all winter break to make upgrades. Alex would never admit, but most of the ideas had come from what Logan had said during 2023. They didn’t have a championship contending car, but they would be able to bring in some decent points.

Theo took the opportunity to answer.

“It looks all right. Hoping to make it into Q2 at least. We have good 1-lap pace.”

Lando snorted. “You’ll definitely make it into Q2. I’m forecasting no crashes in Free Practice.”

Theo’s head tilted. “How come?”

“Because there’s not a certain driver on the grid this year. Now maybe I can win a race without having to go around his debris. ”

“Lando you’re such a narcissist,” Max murmured, looking around hoping no one heard him. The last thing the Briton needed was another cancel culture on him.

Lando’s green eyes widened. “What? I’m only saying the truth. Even Oscar was saying something about it this morning. Right mate? Logan will probably never put a foot in the paddock again.”

Oscar looked down, semi-embarrassed, but also, again, he shouldn’t be worrying about Logan anymore. The Aussie looked back up.

“Yeah, I mean, he crashed out a lot and it was all his own faults. It’d probably be better if he stayed away for a bit.”

Max and Charles didn’t seem too certain that Oscar truly believed it. But the look in Oscar’s eyes did tell them that there was some truth. Max wanted to bring up the fact that Charles last year did crash out a few times, but he still had a seat. Charles’s hand on his back made him wait.

It was silent for a moment before George walked up to the group.

“The new drivers are about to walk in. Do you want to go with me to meet them?”

Charles and Max looked at him and eagerly nodded. Oscar and Lando shrugged, but agreed to walk with George. Alex said nothing but still tagged along, which made Theo follow the older drivers.

Time to go see who copped Logan’s driver number.

Alex truly didn’t want to see another car with the number 2 on it that wouldn’t be Logan. It wouldn’t feel great. But Alex guessed that’s what the past was, an emotion that just gnawed on your insides until it went away with time.

He once again ran into someone, but this time it was Lando.

“Lando, why’d you…”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as his eyes were now glued to the turnstiles.

There was no way.

Logan grinned when his eyes landed on the small group. George, Max, and Charles were still walking toward him and you, but the other four stopped dead in their tracks.

“Nice and sunny today?” Logan jokingly questioned as he hugged George first. You made yourself busy with greeting Max and Charles.

You and Logan had decided to show up in the Lamborghini merchandise. Logan was in a black t-shirt but you were dressed in a Lamborghini issued pantsuit. But for the race next week, the two of you would show up in sponsor clothes. The yellow decals looks great against his black shirt.

Charles smiled as he leaned back from the hug. “Looking a bit bee-ish today.”

You rolled your eyes as you looked down your own suit that had bits of yellow intricately designed.

“Charles,” you whined, “now I won’t be able to see anything else. Even our car is black and yellow.”

You let out a huff, but the smile on your face contradicted how you were acting. Logan walked up next to you and greeted the other two, which gave you and George time to talk as well.

“They’re still staring,” Logan murmured as he leaned in to side hug Max.

“Let them.”

The now group of five walked farther into the paddock. Logan had wanted to say something, or even look at the other four, but the look on their faces deterred him. With your arm linked in his, you pulled him along, also not giving him a chance to stop.

“You don’t need them.”

Logan nodded.

Charles leaned closer. “They were so sure that Logan wasn’t going to come back this season. I think Lando was betting that Mick would be in the seat.”

Your smirk grew. “Played them like a violin Logan. Making it look so easy for the rest of us.”

Logan barely glanced back at the still stuck drivers, who turned around to watch them walk away.

“They’re looking at me like I did something bad. But, why does it feel good?” the American male asked. His heart wanted to hurt because of how they treated him last year, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a bit smug at their jaws on the floor.

Max snorted. “Because they fucked you up last year mate.”

George let out a gasp and put his hands over your ears. “No bad words around the children Max.”

You quickly batted his hands away. “I’m twenty-two George. Also, why aren’t your hands over Charles ‘vanilla is the best ice cream flavor’ Leclerc’s ears instead?”

The Ferrari-driver glared at you. “Says the woman who thinks chocolate is somehow superior.”

The two of you started to bicker as you walked. George, Max, and Logan laughed from behind. Logan pulled out his phone and took a quick picture before opening his schedule to see who he was with for media. He quietly cursed as he looked at the names.

George winced at the photo. “I can’t believe that they’re putting you with Lando, Oscar, and Alex.”

A quick buzz from Max’s phone made him take it out quickly. He smiled as he showed Logan.

“I guess they changed mine. I’m now with you and the wolves.”

Logan tried to feel a bit better about it, but he was visibly deflating. He just hoped that he could sit next to the Dutchman without having to sit next to anyone else.

Thankfully, when it was time, Max had saved him an end seat. It was Logan on the left, then Max, then Alex, then Lando, then Oscar. Logan hadn’t greeted any of them as he walked in, only giving Max a quick smile before they got started. He ran a hand through his hair quickly and his eyes looked over at John, his new PR manager. The older man gave him an encouraging nod as a journalist started to ask Max a question.

To Logan’s delight, most of the questions were for Max about the RB20 and if it would be as fast as the RB19. Max went through the motions to give his most mundane answer he could muster. Logan started to pick at his fingernails as he waited for the next question, which was for him. His head rose to look at the small crowd.

“James McHone, with News 5, question for Logan. Why did you come back to race for Lamborghini after a very unsuccessful rookie year with Williams?”

He wanted to wince, but kept his face neutral. He raised the mic to his lips.

“Well, uh, I thought I wasn’t done and hadn’t been able to show people what I could do. During 2023 season, I had multiple people telling me that Williams was the best I could ever get and to not throw away a good thing. But in the end, to people it seems that I did throw it away. However, now with Lamborghini and Michael, I think I can finally show that they made the wrong decision.”

Whispers went through the crowd at his last statement, but the genuine smile on John’s face made him feel better.

“Melany Lancy, with Circuit Noise, follow up question for Logan. Some drivers have mentioned that a possible return for you hadn’t been something that was believable and that Logan Sargeant should have never gotten into Formula 1. Thoughts?”

Logan took a deep breath before answering. He smirked and rolled his shoulders a bit.

“I know I’m a good driver with the right car, and Williams just didn’t have that for me. I believe that Lamborghini has everything that I require. The team has really listened to me and Y/n, my teammate, during the break. The car was designed for us. I hadn’t really heard any rumors regarding drivers saying I should have never been in Formula 1. But all I can really say is if they drop my name, I don’t own them anything. I’m just here to do my job and do it well.”

Logan wasn’t asked any more question after that, but he could see the embarrassed red start to fill in Oscar’s, Lando’s, and Alex’s faces. He hadn’t heard rumors, but he had heard them say that first hand back in Brazil.

He was quick to stand up and leave once they got the go ahead. He had a big smile as he made his way back to the garage with Max in tow. Somehow, the Lamborghini garage was placed next to Red Bull. On the other side of the navy garage was Ferrari.

The American could only laugh at the thought of them trying to put both Italian teams garages next to each other. Enzo Ferrari would roll in his grave and Tonino would have a fit. He glanced over to Max before lifting his hand in a wave.

“Y/n! Lo sai che a Tonino verrebbe un infarto vedendoti nel garage rosso?” (You know that Tonino would have a heart attack seeing you in the red garage?)

Max’s head whipped at the fluent sounding Italian that left Logan’s mouth. Logan chose to ignore and kept smiling. Even in the Ferrari garage, Charles’s eyes went wide at the sound. The Monegasque’s head turned to you waiting for an answer.

You waved a hand down like being in the Ferrari garage wasn’t a big deal.

“E piu come se Enzo si stesse rotolando nella tomba. Charles aveva fatto una prova del gelato per il suo negozio e ne volevo un po’” (More like Enzo is rolling in his grave. Charles had test ice cream for his shop and I wanted some.”

Logan rolled his eyes. Max just stood there in an utter look of confusion and bewilderment.

“Charles, hai altro da condividere?” (Charles, do you have more to share?”

The Ferrari driver was still frozen as he listened to you converse with one of his engineers in fluent Italian. It scared him even more when he truly realized that Logan was fluent as well. He quickly shut his eyes and shook his head before answering.

“Questi ragazzo. Sono io quello che finira presto nella tomba. Si, ne ho di piu.” (These kids. I’m the one that’s going to be in an early grave. Yes, I have more.)

Charles beckoned them over. Logan took the lead, letting a still very confused Max follow him. He finally found his voice once he stepped into the garage.

“Ok, but what the actual fu-”

“Language!” you yelled, licking the spoon that was currently being used to eat more ice cream. “Charles, I think the tiramisu could use some more espresso. It’s still a bit too sweet.”

Charles muttered something, but wrote some words down in a separate yellow notebook that had “LEC” on the front.

Logan had found a cup of some strawberry and started to eat it. Max stood still but was handed a cup of a familiar green ice cream. He looked up at Charles with wide eyes.

“I thought you said that this was an abomination to the ice cream society Charlie,” the Dutchman said with a smirk on his face.

Charles went a bit red.

“Well, you like it so…” he didn’t finish and just let the words die off. Max just hummed contently as he ate the peppermint flavored ice cream. After Charles finished writing something, he took a deep breath.

“So, when did the two of you learn Italian?”

Your mouth was full of ice cream so you nudged Logan. He put the spoon back in the little cup before answering.

“Y/n and I always thought it’d be funny to learn a language so that we could talk about stuff together and not everyone would know. I wanted to learn Russian but someone couldn’t tell the difference between the vowels.”

You let out a whine at his confession.

“Russian also doesn’t sound as sexy as Italian.”

Without realizing, Max hummed in agreement. Charles went bright red at that as well.

“Anyway, so when we were in F3 together for a little bit, we started to buckle down and learn it. Took about a year and a half to master it but we did.”

The Ferrari driver looked a bit pained as he looked down at his cup. If Logan knew Italian, what had he overheard when Charles wasn’t aware. Logan could only guess what he was feeling like right now.

“Charles, I never overheard anything bad from you. And if I did, it was only constructive criticism. I actually listened to it a lot and it helped with COTA.”

Logan put a hand on Charles’s shoulder to try to convey that he really didn’t care. The Monegasque was never mean or rude toward him, like some orange drivers were. And Logan thinks that’s why it hurts more. The people who were supposed to be his good friends were mean to him. And the people who he wasn’t even that close with were nicer. It made his brain hurt.

You took this as a moment to also confess something.

“Logan also knows Dutch.”

The American went bright red under Max’s eyes. The Dutchman had a big smirk.

“Weet je?” (Do you now?)

Logan didn’t reply in the language.

“Yes, I know some. I’m not as fluent as you are.”

“He wanted to learn it so he could understand most of your other interviews where you talked more about the car.”

“Y/n!” Logan whipped around and yelled. You only shrugged.

“It’s the truth.”

Logan then suddenly remembered something. He turned toward Charles.

“Y/n knows French!”

A spoon hit his head, but the American didn’t even flinch. This time, it was your turn to turn as red as the Ferrari car behind you.

Charles cooed at, surprisingly, the both of them.

“Aw, multi-lingual babies.”

Your head was in your hands. “I am never talking to you ever again.”

“Well that’s not helpful,” a male voice sounded at the front of the garage. Michael and Marissa were both smiling at the group of four. You slid off the table that you were currently sitting on.

“I guess that’s our cue to go. Remember Charles, more espresso, less depresso.”

You led Logan out of the garage as you followed the siblings.

“Je te verrai plus tard petite abeille!” (I’ll see you later little bee!)

You groaned once more after hearing Charles call after you. You glared up at Logan.

“You better be thankful that I love you.”

Logan put a hand on his heart. “Aww, love you too.”

“I still won’t hesitate to run you off the track though.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it tesoro.”

lamborghini_racing has posted

lamborghini_racing didn't throw away a good thing

liked by phoenix95, lamborghini, sargeant4ever, and 3,205,859 others

lambo_f1duo ok, but the caption slays 💅

swift_on_track truly is a reputations era, the black fits are fitting

charles_leclerc look, you even came in your little bee car 🐝

phoenix95 I will run you off the track with said bee car, it comes with a stinger

charles_leclerc ok, no more ice cream for you

phoenix95 I TAKE IT BACK PLEASE DONT DO THAT

f1_gridgang man, this team is going to be top of the grid

lambof1 your honor, I fear they slayed too much

venus2 has posted

venus2 i'd do it over and over and over again if I could

liked by maxverstappen1, sargeantgirlie, oscarpiastri, and 5,305,104 others

lambovsferrari glad to see you back in the paddock bro, wouldn't be the same without you 💪

loscar_no_more BAHAHAHA NOT OSCAR HIDING IN THE LIKES

my_goat_logan you're going to come back even better than before!

phoenix95 picture creds would be preferable 🤨

venus2 oh sorry, thanks max for taking the pictures

maxverstappen1 you're welcome!

phoenix95 I still have Charles in my garage

maxverstappen1 you give him BACK

phoenix95 no.

charles_leclerc THAT'S IT - NO MORE ICE CREAM FOR THE TWO OF YOU (Logan let me out)

venus2 on it

ferrari&lambo_crew by I know that Enzo is rolling in his grave rn and Tonino is on the verge of an aneurism

tswizzlexf1 the I Did Something Bad lyrics >>>>>>

phoenix95 has posted

phoenix95 it just felt so good

liked by venus2, barnes&noble, dior, lewishamilton, and 5,305,201 others

booktok she's a racer AND A BOOKWORM?? she's just my type

venusxphoenix and Logan's too apparently

y/n.nation I'm digging the new layout and profile

venus2 you're welcome for the books

phoenix95 could have gotten them myself (ily and thank you)

charles_leclerc you're being...too nice 🤨

venus2 she loves me

phoenix95 gag (affectionately) 🫶

charles_leclerc SEE

maxverstappen1 it's her love language

venus2 it's the same as you and max talking about each other to everyone else

charles_leclerc low blow man, low blow 👊😔

rari_lambo_quartet I love them your honor

bee_lamborghini so ready for the first race

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

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st4rymoon · 27 days

Text

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖+

• Generous

.ᐟ Simon letting Konig get a taste of u bc he doesn’t get laid much and feels bad about how long he's been away without making you feel good :(

• dumbification, 3 sum, p in v, cream pie, brat tamer Simon & König, pet names, slut shaming in a loving way :] , breeding kink, pet names, choking, bratty reader, oral (m receiving), slight overstimulation

You couldn’t wait for Simon to walk through the door after months out on contract. You were Simon’s fresh air just like he was to you.

Never in a million years would he think he’d get so lucky and get such a good girl wrapped around his arm. Always so caring and loving to a man who’s feared by many.

Since Simon was finally coming home today you put on your prettiest sun dress and soft knee high socks waiting for the lock to hit 5.

Simon hadn’t thought much about what you were up to so it didn’t feel wrong when he invited könig over for a beer without letting you know.

So when you heard the door open you payed no attention to anyone but Simon, running into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. “Si I missed you so much!” you squealed while peppered kisses all over his face.

Simon tumbled onto the wall by the sheer surprise of your body pressed against his. His hands moving to hold you from the bottom of your ass “Dar- darling” he muttered as he rushed to keep you from slipping.

You didn’t notice the big shadow lingering behind Simon as you buried yourself into Simon’s neck. König’s eyes didn’t miss the slip of your white thin panties that hugged at your puffy cunt.

He closed the door behind him as you clung onto Simon “it seems like Riley got himself a clingy little thing” you heard from behind.

Simon chuckled as you hopped off him and fixed your dress up with a look of embarrassment “I- sorry I didn’t know anyone was joining you” you shakily replied.

You’ve seen König once or twice but this was the first time you really could take him in. Seeing someone taller than Simon was shocking, build and all even being horrifyingly similar.

Simon noticed the way you seemed to shrink into yourself as your eyes darted to Simon then König. He smiled as he ran a hand down your hair.

Having two behemoth men towering you was a intimidating to say the least. “You’ve met konig before love” Simon nodded as he faced you.

You nodded and extended your hand towards König “nice to see you”

König reached for your hand and instead of shaking it, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss onto the back of your palm “nice to see you too” he hummed.

You pulled back slowly and looked back at Simon, to your surprise he was smiling. “Come lovie” Simon cooed, taking his place on the couch as König went to grab a few beers from the fridge.

“Si why didn’t you tell me someone was coming, I thought I’d have you for myself” you pouted and he knew what you meant by the whine in your voiced, he smiled “we don’t take long”

You tensed as the cushion beside you sunk, you heard König groan as he settled beside you. You tried your best not to pay any attention, you had a boyfriend. But simon noticed the way your legs were squeezing together when Konig would shift around beside you.

“fine” you whined as you got up with a bratty pout. Both the men noticed the way you swayed your hips when you got up “Where are you going” Simon cooed “Upstairs since your friend is more important” you hissed.

“A bratty little thing” König chuckled “tell me about it” Simon replied. Both the men gave each other a glare, maybe they should apologize and teach you a lesson all at once.

Simon was a possessive boyfriend but when it came to sharing with his best mate, he had no problem letting you both get a taste of each other because after all, you both mean the world to Simon.

Simon pulled you onto his lap, his hand snaking up to the nape of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss. You mewled at the feeling of his cock bulging through his pants, your hips seeming to move on their own as you rubbed against him.

“You wanna let me and König apologize for how inconsiderate we are?” Simon cooed.

Your eyes widened as you looked over at König “I- Simon I-“ you muttered “shh I know, I know. I don’t mind sharing bunny, it’s all up to you” Simon had a smile on his face as you tried to make out if he was playing a joke on you.

You’d never expect Simon to be open to three sum since he was such a possessive man, König was his closest friend but Simon is willing to bend the rules when he’s in charge.

“Yes I want it” you nodded “knew you would, my needy little slut” Simon chuckled as you felt Königs hands snaking up your back.

“Just gotta break you in” König hummed as his hand wrapped around your throat and pinned you onto his chest . You were on Simon’s lap with your back pinned to Königs chest “look at me” König cooed.

“Get a taste” Simon hummed as he turned you around and placed you on Königs lap, letting you both get acquainted. You swayed your hips onto König’s lap causing a moan to escape both your lips. None of you said a word as your lips met, heavy moans spilling into each others mouths.

König smiled as your hands pinned him onto the couch, you seemed to be taking control as you rubbed onto his lap “needy little thing” he smiled as you began to bounce on his lap.

“I know she is” Simon sighed as he pulled your dress over your head. You were grinding onto Königs meaty lap as his hands cupped your tits, his lips pressing soft sloppy kisses onto your plump flesh.

You mewled at the sensation of his hands unclipping your bra. His tongue expertly swirling around your nipples, giving each equal attention.

You were so drunk of pleasure you didn’t notice Simon unbuckling his belt behind you “lay back f�� me” König hummed, both the men manhandling you into their desired position.

Simon settled your head dangling off the large couch as König spread your legs to accommodate his size. “Shh shh honey look at me, not at him” Simon cooed. He held your head back to look at him as you heard König shuffling out of his pants.

“Open” Simon cooed and you did as told. You opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out for Simon, a moan coming from both you as he settles his thick heavy length into your throat.

You held onto Simon’s arms as he thrusted in and out of your warm mouth, his eyes glued onto the bulging in your throat bobbing with each of his thrusts.

“All wet and sticky f’me, isn’t Riley a lucky bastard” König cooed as he nudged his tip into your tight cunt. Your eyes widened as you felt him rubbing between your folds, he was fucking huge.

You tried to moan but the only thing you could get out was gasps and gags as Simon fucked your pretty mouth open. Simon smiled as your eyes rolled back the second you felt König push deep into you.

It felt like you were being stretched open with two men filling you full. One fucking your mouth like a mad man and the other breaking you in for the first time. König was muttering to himself as he slammed into your sticky cunt, each thrust knocking the wind out of you.

You clawed at his arms as he began to drill you onto the couch, his cock nudging perfectly at your g-spot while you sucked Simon off like his own personal pornstar.

“She likes it rough huh?” Köing snickered in awe as he watched the way you took both of them so well. He watched as Simon held his heavy hand to your throat, keeping you in place.

Simon knew köing doesn’t get laid much so why wouldn’t he share his pretty little thing with his best mate? It’s only fair for his best friend and girlfriend to get acquainted.

You gasped as Simon pulled out of your mouth, his hands shifting down to gripping your hair as he knelt down to your face.

“Look at him, don’t be shy lovie. I want you to look at him in the eye- yeahhh just like that” Simon whispered into your ear as köing continued his brutal thrusts.

You stared into Königs eyes, Doe eyed and watery and König was growing overwhelmed with everything you gave him. The pretty moans, Doe eyes, spit dribbling down your chin as he stuffed you full. “That’s it” Simon cooed as he noticed that look on your face.

It was so overwhelming having your boyfriend whispering in your ear while his best friend bottomed you out. You let you a high pitched whine as you came around König, his cock still fucking you through your orgasm.

“A- ah fuck ah-“ König was trying to get his words straight as he felt his cock throbbing against your walls “wh- where do I- fu-“ he panted with your legs now hoisted up against his shoulders.

“In me! I- in me pleaseee” you whined as you managed to get your legs back down to his waist and pushing him against you, caging him in so he could fill you full of his seed.

Königs never came so hard in his life, he was moaning like a mad man as he pumped you full of his loads. His vision turned white as you throbbed against his sensitive and overstimulated cock.

“Forgot to tell you she likes getting bread Kö” Simon chuckled as he stared down at you with admiration.

You were drenched in sweat as his right hand man pulled out of you with traces of his cum buried deep inside you. Just because König fucked you dumb doesn’t mean Simon was going to hold back.

“You made him happy bunny, now it’s my turn”

#cod ghost #cod smut #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost cod #konig cod #konig x reader #konig smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod x reader

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kiame-sama · 3 months

Text

Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt. 3

Warnings; spoilers for episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, toxic relationship, Alastor is not fond of disobedience, don't make deals with demons,

~~~~~~~~

"Good talk, chum!"

Alastor hummed as he moved towards the shadows, leaving behind a shaking and terrified Husker. There were many words that could be used to describe Alastor and none were more fitting than terrifying.

None knew this better than you.

"Husker," you started, emerging from where you had been waiting down the hall, "are you okay?"

The hellcat tried to pull himself together quickly and brush you off, but his shaking betrayed how truly afraid he was. When Alastor wanted to put terror into others, he didn't need to work very hard to accomplish his goal.

"Why the Hell d'you care? You're his fuckin' favorite, the fuck you know about it?"

You knew he was lashing out to protect himself, but the words almost managed to make you flinch. Luckily for the both of you, you didn't and you kept a level head. If he had seen... Still, you wanted to try and comfort the fellow lost soul ensnared by your eternal captor.

"Husker, listen to me."

Something about your firm tone made the demon pause, an almost confused and unsettled expression on his face. It was rare that you became so serious and pleading with anyone, let alone tried to actually talk to anyone for extended periods of time. Something about your tone made him want to take whatever you were going to say seriously.

"You may think you know the limits of his patience but you don't. I know them. I have seen more than you know and have been by his side for longer than you may expect. I can never share these things. I can never tell anyone what I have heard and seen. Those memories are not my secrets to share. But I can tell you some of the terms of my contact, and I hope you understand and take heed."

You were choosing your words carefully, knowing that you could only say so much before the fine-print of your contract with Alastor silenced you. Parroting one of the key lines of your contract even as you navigated your way through the red-tape and fine print. Alastor made sure to create a rather finely crafted contract to outline your deal with him and you had plenty of time to read over it again and again.

"Expected and Required are the same thing. I am expected to remain by Alastor's side until he doesn't want me to be. I am expected to do what is asked of me by Alastor and no one else. I am expected to keep what I see and hear a secret unless Alastor wishes for me to speak on the matter. I am expected to remember the primary terms of every contract I have seen. And I have to say, Husker, I know better than anyone what chains can bind some overlords."

Husker seemed confused for a moment before his eyes flashed with recognition before shifting to curiosity. You could only hope that he gathered the information you wanted to give him without having directly said it.

"You were there for my deal, weren't you?"

"I cannot say. Those are not my secrets to share."

"But where were you? I thought it was just me an' him. Unless... Hells, you're his microphone, aren't you?"

"I am expected to be by his side until he doesn't want me to be."

"You've been around long enough to see my deal, you must have seen so many other deals too. Why do you stay with him? Ain't there any kind of freedom to your deal?"

"My deal was made to keep me safe from other demons. It... Evolved into what it is now. I stay safe and in return I do as my deal says, no questions. That is what I agreed to. Look, Husker, all I am saying is your leash could be tighter, your chains could be heavier, and you could have far less freedoms than you have now. Don't squander it over someone like Mimzy."

"I just know she is bad news! But he won't listen."

"I know she is bad news too and I admit, I hate her. Every time she shows up she uses him and thinks she has some kind of control over him because he lets her get away with this nonsense."

You sighed and tried to smile at Husker, feeling the wry and strained grin become more of a grimace. It was true that you strongly disliked the woman that only appeared when she needed help and you knew she didn't like you either. Mimzy had obvious feelings for Alastor and she hated the fact that you were close to him when she so desperately wanted to be in your place.

"Husker, I can't say I like you- he doesn't like competition of any kind- but I don't want you killed or hurt. You are a better person than you claim to be and we both know it. Just know that though he doesn't like your tone, he does hear you and your concerns."

"Listen, (y/n), maybe if we talk to Charlie about your deal, she can-"

You sharply stood from where you had been kneeling by his side, already knowing where the conversation was going and not wanting either of you to get hurt by the blowback. If Husker finished his sentence, odds are Alastor would not hesitate to rip his soul to shreds for daring to try and break the deal you had. There was no way you were going to let such a thing happen and that meant you had to make it clear to Husker as well.

"No. I am happy with my deal. I would never say anything to the contrary or try to get out of my deal with Alastor. Besides, I have seen too much and know too much for him to ever let me go peacefully. That level of blood and retribution is far too high a price. Don't suggest it again, Husker, or we will both be in trouble for it. Please, just trust me to-"

The way your voice died in your throat with a slight choke let the demon know you said as much as you could. Though there was more you wished to say, you could feel your own leash tighten in a clear warning and you knew then he had been listening. Odds are, Alastor had been listening to the whole thing and he was not pleased with your attempts to get around his gag order. It was also clear to you that Alastor was likely testing you by letting Husker get as far as he did in his questioning.

A chill ran down your back and you saw your fellow demon's eyes widen as he stared behind you. The clawed hand of the Radio Demon rest on your shoulder, his head leaning over so you could barely see his threatening grin in your peripheral view. You could feel his shadows crawling over your skin and around you as he casually asserted control over both you and Husker.

"Now, now. Whatever could you two possibly be discussing? It wouldn't happen to be about the rules you know you can't discuss, right?"

"Of course not, Alastor. We both know that they aren't my secrets to share even if I wanted to, which I don't. I am simply informing him from one damned soul to another that trying to rile you is a bad idea."

A soft growl could be heard from Alastor and you could feel the slight brush of his antlers against your head as his annoyance grew. As far as you knew, you hadn't said anything to upset him and you had not breached the terms of your contract. But the way his hand tightened on your shoulder told you Alastor was unhappy about something and you were terrified what that would mean for Husker.

"I have told you what to call me many times now, (y/n). I do not appreciate your continued failure to heed my instruction."

It then dawned on you why Alastor was irritated and in some ways it was ridiculous to you. He was upset because you called him Alastor and not a pet name as he had requested. Honestly, you had forgotten entirely about something so trivial, but you also knew Alastor was a stickler for details.

"Dear, I feel there is a time and place for terms of endearment and they have no place in serious discussion."

"That is for me to decide and you to obey. Do not presume such things again, Sugar. Now, what is this about you hating Mimzy?"

"She is only here to try and use you, we all know that. I don't like her casual attempts at controlling you and I know she dislikes me as well."

"I don't care what she thinks of you, it is not her decision if I keep you with me or not. Now, I would hope you know better than to question me, because I doubt you want to spend another half a decade locked away again. Do I make myself clear, Honey?"

"... Yes, Darling."

Alastor was quick to disappear once more into shadow, leaving both you and Husker to stare at one another in silence. You both knew he likely didn't go far and that he was always watching whatever it was you chose to do. With this constant observation in mind, you did your best to keep your actions to a minimum and to keep any backlash from hurting Husker.

"We both know what our place is. It would be best that we don't question it. I'm truly sorry for the pain you feel, Husker, but we made our choices. Be happy your choice gives you some kind of freedom."

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel

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stevesbipanic · 2 months

Text

For the lovely @withacapitalp happy birthday Liam hope you have the best day today!!!!

Steve had been pacing around the apartment all morning. Well, pacing wasn't really the right word, Eddie would describe it more like having the same zoomies their cat Toothpaste has at 3am.

You see today was–"It's Robin Day, Eds!" As his lovely boyfriend had practically screamed in his ear at 5am. "And it will still be Robin day when you return from your job at a normal waking hour, babe."

Eddie had hoped the jog would've gotten some of the energy out of Steve's system but he seemed more hyper on his return, at least he'd brought Eddie coffee.

"Love, Robin isn't even on the plane yet."

"I know, but it's today, Eds."

Steve looked so bright it made all of Eddie's sleepiness fade away. It had been hard, living away from Robin. They'd all shared an apartment when she went away for college but by the time she got a job in New York, Steve and Eddie were not only dating finally but settled into Chicago life.

They spoke every day of course, Robin and Steve never missed a nightly catch up of the day's events, Eddie didn't even know what they'd talk about once they were in the same state again. Eddie knew Robin would always be Steve's number one and he loved that about him.

There was one other thing about today though. "Sweetheart, you know it's not just Robin Day, right?"

Steve looked confused at his boyfriend, kind of like the way a puppy looks when you move his toy.

"What could be more important about today than that."

Eddie began humming a specific tune wrapping his arms around Steve's waist. "Oh, right, my birthday, 24 isn't exactly a big deal Eds," Steve said rolling his eyes.

Eddie laughed, "Your birthday is the reason Robin's coming, sunshine, plus after the number of times we've both almost died I think every birthday is a big deal."

Steve nodded his head and returned the embrace Eddie had been giving him, "True, you think you're gonna have a quarter life crisis in August, Mr 25?"

Eddie grinned, "Oh yeah, I think imma buy a guitar and start a band." Steve laughed, while Corroded Coffin never got famous they got relatively well known in the local scene, Tuesdays were now a regular gig at The Squire downtown.

"Four hours til she lands," Steve said kissing Eddie's cheek and running upstairs to make sure the guest room was ready for the tenth time. "Still not on the plane yet!" Eddie called up laughing.

Four and a half hours later their loving room was filled with laughter and joy once more. "And then the guy asked the flight attendant for another ginger ale and Steve this man was looking green and you know how I don't deal with sick people well I'm surprised I survived the flight at all," Robin rambled filling Steve in on her flight from hell.

"Honestly, you should just move back here, save yourself the flight," Steve joked. Robin glanced at Eddie, one little birthday surprise they hadn't told Steve yet.

"Actually, my contract is ending in two weeks, and um, they offered to extend it at...their Chicago office."

Steve was frozen, if Eddie didn't know better he'd think Vecna had returned from the dead to finish them off after all these years. Then the screaming started.

"YOU'RE MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"

"I'M MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"

Pretty soon everyday would be Robin Day and with his boy looking that happy Eddie wouldn't want it any other way.

#happy birthday liam!!!!#and hehe the brief return of toothpaste the cat #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stobin #with a capital p #ficlet

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am-i-interrupting · 2 months

Note

Hi!!!!! Would it be possible to request Vox with an affectionate s/o and the relationship has to be kept a secret?

Secret Snuggles

“Baby doll, what are you doing?” Vox asked as he typed away at his computer.

You’d just slipped into his office a few minutes ago. For a moment or two you feigned interest in looking around the room you’d been in hundreds of times like it was something new before you focused on what you were really here for, Vox.

You moseyed up to his chair. You placed your hands on his shoulders and your head against his, not caring that the sharp edges of his face would leave an indent on your cheek. When that got you nothing you removed yourself from him with a huff. You huffed again, louder. Still, he was hyper focused on his work.

That is when you got on the floor and crawled underneath his desk. You placed your hands on his knees and finally, finally you got acknowledged!

You didn’t answer him with words. Instead you elected to use action. You pushed yourself up, curving your back so you didn’t hit it on the desk, until you were wedged between the table and Vox.

He raised an eyebrow at your antics. This time you ignored him and settled yourself in his lap.

“We’re in public,” he reminded you but his hand still went to hold your thigh to keep you steady.

“I know. I just needed this today,” you told him.

You nuzzled closer to him. He sighed but didn’t move you. He simply used his free hand to pull himself closer to the computer and tried to type one handed.

You weren’t supposed to be like this with Vox. Hell, you weren’t even supposed to be around Vox.

See, the thing is, when you first arrived in Hell, you signed a contract handing your soul over to a gambler named Husk. You liked Husk, even to this day, but looking back you should have known better.

Husk had no problems with you getting chatty and friendly with Vox. He had other things to worry about and if he needed you, he knew he just had to call.

That all changed when Husk gambled and lost not just his soul but subsequently all the souls contracted to him. Now your soul was in the hands of the Radio Demon and he was not a fan of your choice in company. You were glad you knew that before you ever met the man in person otherwise you could have found yourself making a very big mistake.

You didn’t get to see Vox often as a result but you craved his company, his voice, his touch. You craved it so much. You knew you had to keep this a secret. You knew what you were doing was dumb but you needed some solitude with your partner.

You’d gotten spoiled in the seven years that Alastor had been gone. Now you were torn away from your lover’s embrace both day and night. Instead you’d been forced to stay at the Princess’s hotel.

You liked the people at the hotel, make no mistake but they weren’t a replacement for a man you’d known almost your entire time in Hell.

Luckily for you, Husk knew that and he could see you beginning to get twitchy. He promised to cover for you while you went to your paramour. Not for the first time, you cursed Husk for not being more careful but thanked him for his caring soul.

Vox’s hand stroked up and down your thigh. Your skin tingled, even through the fabric of your clothes, where he left a trail. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, arm wrapped around his waist. You closed your eyes and just savored the moment.

Then, of course, the door burst open. “Hey, Voxy!” Velvette greeted, eyes glued to her phone as the two of you jolted up. When her eyes flickered towards the chair, she fell silent, “Oh, sorry, babes. Didn’t know you two were having a moment. Quick question though, can you fix my phone? It’s been acting faulty all day. It’s driving me fucking insane.”

Vox groaned and extended his hand. Velvette slipped the phone into it. He pressed some buttons and did some other things you didn’t quite understand. Then it was back in her palm.

“Thanks! Kisses, lovelies, kisses!” she said as she left the room.

The next day, you were preparing a quick lunch for the Hotel when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out and opened it to see a message from Velvette. Your heart melted when you saw a picture of you and Vox cuddling. You smiled and shook your head when you saw her accompanying words:

You’re welcome in advance! Give that run down radio a hard day for me and Voxy, ‘kay? OK. 💋💋

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader

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simphornies · 3 months

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Could I have it's fine if not

A vox x reader where shes his secretary?

A/N: Your wish is my command, <3 This was fun to write. I definitely headcanon Vox as someone that would fluster easily because he's just constantly around the Vees so being around somebody else that he isn't trying to hypnotize or boss around is new territory for him. Enjoy a flustered Vox. Definitely let me know if you'd like a part 2. I love subjecting him to this in my stories.

Word count: 2.9k words (2,948)

Breathtaking [ Vox x Secretary!Reader ]

The moment Vox saw you standing in front of him in his office, he immediately took notice of your curves. The way your uniform hugged every inch of you nicely. He didn't want to admit that you are Velvette's top model. Not that random bitch Valentino tore up in his fit of rage.

Your intelligence. Your charisma. Your hunger for power. He watched you ever since you demanded to work in his company. He took note of every quirk you have, replaying everything you've done throughout the day just in case he missed something.

When he saw that you were getting approached by Valentino, something boiled inside of him. He didn't want him to have your soul and body. Hell. Your body. He wanted you all to himself. No contracts. No deals. But there's one problem. He has no idea how to approach you. Like at all.

"C'mon darling~" Valentino plays with your hair, "I promise I can make you a star. Imagine it, you and Angel Dust. Side by side. You'll make so much money you won't even know what to do with it!" He breathes out his red smoke, surrounding you both. You could only see his eyes glowing behind it. "Don't run away, babe. Make a deal with me." He grins as his voice echoes around you.

You were about to try and fight for your life against an overlord until the smoke clears out with a zap. You feel the electricity crackling in the air. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into them. It was Vox.

"Valentino!" He smiles, "I see you've met my new personal assistant." Val scoffs, a little upset that he got first pick. You weren't entirely aware that you got boosted up to being an assistant but hey. You'd rather that than be a pornstar.

"You never told me this little princesa's your assistant. When did that start?" He whined.

"It started now. I told you I've been watching one of our..." He chuckles, trying to find the right words as to not expose him basically watching you, "...newest recruits."

Valentino almost chokes on his smoke, offended at the lie he just spat out. "Well I need that gorgeous body on set." He lifts up your chin with a finger, taunting you.

Vox moves you behind him before putting his arm around Val, his voice distorting a bit, "Val Val Val..." He chuckled, "You can have any other woman we can reach." They start walking a little bit out of ear shot for you. "I want this one. Got it?" He flashed his hyponitizing eye into his unaffected fellow overlord.

Valentino rolled his eyes and raises his hands up in defeat, "Fine. Fine. Take her." He scoffs, "But as soon as she's gone from your hands. She'll be mine." He chuckled.

"Fucking asshole." You hissed under your breath, secretly hoping he didn't hear it because you're kinda scared of him.

"Well, well. Nice to finally meet you." Vox pivots on his heel to face you, "I'm sure you've heard of me, HA! Who hasn't? The name's Vox." He extends his hand out to you, "And you, my dear, are?"

You take his hand to shake it, "I'm Y/N. I've been watching your work ever since I fell into hell and I've been doing my absolute best to finally get a chance to speak with you! I have so much to say and every time I try to get a meeting set up and-" You rambled before getting cut off by Vox pulling you closer to him as he grinned in delight. "My my. You have a lot to say there, doll. Why don't we go into my office so we can have a real meeting."

You get a bit flustered with your blabbering. "Ah. Yes. Apologies. I was just-" You take a deep breath, "Thank you. For saving me back there."

Vox chuckles a bit and teleports the two of you into his office, leaning into his folded hands. You felt the static all over your skin, your hair floating a bit in certain parts. He walks around his desk and plops down on his chair. You fix yourself up and sit across from him.

"So, Y/N, what were you saying earlier?"

"I want to be yours." You blurt out. Vox blinks, his smile faltered a bit.

"Excuse me?"

"I MEAN-" You clear your throat, "I want to be your assistant. I want to work for you. Under you. I am not afraid to get my hands dirty if it means you rise up in strength as the overlord of this city." If there was anything you can do right, it's killing. And blurting out the wrong things.

Vox chuckled in amusement, "Alright dollface, let's see what you can do." He grins, holding his hand out for you to shake. You shake it with eager delight. ------------------ It's been almost a year since you've begun your work as Vox's personal assistant and it's safe to say that his admiration for you grew over time. You were now next to him at all times. Even though you were his assistant, he was at you beck and call. You honestly didn't expect this behavior out of the powerful demon, but you weren't entirely opposed to it.

"Y/N. Pull up the statistics for the lowest earners this month." Vox states, stress oozing out of his words.

"Yes sir." You nod, directly transporting what he had asked for into the screen in front of him.

"I told you to call me Vox." He groans before cracking his neck, flicking through the screen to note down the employees that haven't met anywhere near the required quota. You take note his stiffness, specifically in his left shoulder. 'He must be working overnight again.' You thought to yourself.

You walk up behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. He flinches slightly from the sudden physical contact. "Wh-what are you doing?" He glitched a bit, hoping you didn't catch that.

"You stayed up overnight again, didn't you?" You sigh, "Sir, you need to take better care of yourself. You may be a powerful overlord but your wits will lose its touch if you don't get the proper rest you need." You work your fingers to massage the knot out of his shoulders as he slowly melted into you touch.

He groans a bit in pleasure, "I-" He started to protest but cut him off before deciding not too. "Whatever. Work your magic. You're good at that with me." He leans further back into his seat as he shuts his eyes, giving into your massage, "And call me Vox!"

You smile, looking down at him, "If you insist," You lean down, whispering into the side of his head, presumably where his ears would be, "Vox."

He was lost in your massage before the sound of his name slips out of your lips, causing his eyes to dart open. "You said my na-" He froze as soon as he turned to face you. Your face was so close to his screen. His face lit up as he slowly starting to buffer.

You grinned at his flustered state, "Sorry. Too close?" You pull yourself back and finally got that knot out of his shoulder. "How come you only have that stubborn knot on your left side?" You thought it strange that it was only on the left. You moved your hands off of the frozen overlord in front of you before shifting over to where he was facing, lightly tapping on his screen.

The taps got him out of his buffered state. He was flustered with you catching him so off guard like that. "No." He coughed, "Just caught me off guard is all." He brings back his signature grin as he looked up at you. "Now what was that question again? Something about a side?"

You roll your eyes, "Your shoulder. The knot I got out was only on the left side. What in the seven rings could you be doing with just that side of you? You arm wrestle Velvette or something?" You state, "You know, I did try that once. She beat me with such ease I never dared to try it again. Valentino just kept trying to lick my arm."

You continued to ramble as he sat and realized why. You haven't left his mind, or his screens, for the last couple of months. He couldn't tell you he's been busy jacking it off to the thought of you sharing his bed with him every night. He couldn't tell you that he wished you were there every time he woke up.

"Ahhh. Yeah! Yeah. Such a bitch to beat." He laughs nervously before quickly getting up, "Well enough of that. Thank you, doll, for the massage. Now, it's almost been a year since you've been by my side and I believe I owe you a treat." He smiled brightly, taking your hand in his, "How about we both the rest of the day off? Let me treat you to a nice restaurant as a...thanks. For your hard work."

Your fingers tapped against the back of his hand, "So...like a date?"

And he glitches again, "No! I mean-pff-what. Nahhhh. That's not-" He stutters, "No! No. I would never-"

His instant denial made your head, and heart, drop a bit in disappointment. You've grown to like him, more than just a close friend and ally. It seems that he took notice of your disappointment as he stopped his ranting to lift your chin up with his free hand.

"Look, just. Get ready. Look pretty! Get Velvette to help you with an outfit if need be. Tell her I sent you. And meet me outside in an hour." He reassures you, "I have quite the surprise for you, Y/N. You know I never disappoint."

"Okay, Vox." You manage a smile, holding his hand tighter. "I'll see you in an hour." You walk towards the door and head straight to Velvette.

Vox puts on his best suit and bowtie. Not allowing a single piece of garment out of place. He waited by the entrance of his building a little bit earlier than the discussed time, eagerly waiting your arrival. Before he knew it he was swamped with reporters, bombarding him with questions regarding the change in the extermination date. He easily answers the questions with his idea of "VoxTek Angelic Security" or so he calls it. He totally just pulled that one out of his ass. He hypnotized the crowd to keep them at bay. As soon as he did, you exit the nearest elevator.

He turned at the sound of heels clacking behind him. You wore a beautiful black dress with red accents that wrapped around your body nicely, hugging your every curve. The drop of your dress went a little bit too low for your liking, straight down from your chest to under your bust, but Velvette insisted that the fashion tape she put on it will prevent any accidental spillage. A slit that revealed the red and blue garter you wore on your thigh that resembled cables. Your hair was curled, half up and half down, falling nicely on your shoulders. On your ears were jewelry that matched the antennas on his signature hat.

The sight of you took all the air out of him, you were stunning in his eyes. "My..." He mumbled to himself as he walks towards you. "You look..."

"Silly, right? I told Velvette she didn't have to go all out. That I was just going out for a meeting with you to celebrate our first year working together." You sigh, looking up at him with a worried look, "If you don't like it, I can quickly change."

Vox couldn't help but snake his hand around your waist, "You look stunning." He grinned, "I can't wait to walk into the finest restaurant in Pentagram City with you by my side." He led you out into the limo waiting, "You're going to break necks with how fast they're going to turn at the sight of you, Y/N."

You blush a bit at his flattery, the makeup you wore barely hiding it. He held the door open for you. You thanked him as you sat inside.

The whole ride there was a test of self-control for Vox. He wanted to hold you in his arms. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, so much so that he swears you could hear it at this point.

You peek out the windows next to Vox. You thought the lights were beautiful, nothing like what they have on Earth. You were captivated by the lights and he took quick notice of you shifting. You scoot closer to him, trying to get a closer look out the window on his side. "The lights are wonderful here, Vox." You smile, taking in the sights.

You place a hand on his thigh, causing him to blush intensely, leaning over him. "If I were to ask you of anything, I'd love to have neon lights in my room." You look up at him, "If you permit it."

He gave himself a mental pat on the back with how quickly he composed himself. Vox places a hand around your waist, "I will give you anything in my power at your asking." He hypes himself up to finally ask you out to be more than just his secretary. More than just his friend. "If you permit, will you consider this as my first attempt in courting you, dear?"

Your face quickly turned red at the sudden turn on events. You lean back, taking your hand off of his thigh. You attempted to back up but his firm grip on your waist stops you, if anything, he pulls you close to his chest. You blinked at him in disbelief, "I-Of course. I shall. I'm honored at to have your attention."

"Love, you've caught my attention since you arrived in hell." He confessed. Before he could continue, the ride slows to a stop as you both arrive at your destination. "Now, shall we?"

You step out of the limo, hand in Vox's as he assists you, careful to not allow you to trip. "I've gotten us our own private dining room here. Somewhere we can speak freely without anybody listening in on our conversation." He leads you into the restaurant, his words earlier still replaying in your head. 'Is this really a date? A date with Vox?' You thought to yourself.

He pulls out the chair for you before seating himself. He sits across from you, propping up his head on the table with his hand. He chugs the bottle of rum on your table to ease his nerves. A couple gulps in, he was ready to talk. "May I confess something to you, Y/N?" He smiles.

"Yes. Of course. Anything, Vox."

"You drive me crazy." He starts, "You're double drop dead gorgeous. If anything is an honor, it's to have you here in hell as my date. These last few months have been my equivalent of heaven."

You fluster at his words, turning red at the compliments. "Y/N, if I may be so bold. I have fallen for you. You're in my mind, always. Your gaze recharges me as much as it short circuits my system."

He gets up to move his chair right next to you, "My dear, I know I just said for you to consider this as me courting you." He holds your hand in his, "But if I'm going to be honest, I don't think I'd be able to handle keeping my hands off of you for tonight. You're absolutely breathtaking."

In response, you finish off what was left in the bottle he drank out off to ease your nerves. The alcohol flushed your face more than it already was from his confession. "Vox. May I be so bold as to speak my truth in return?"

He gulps down his nerves, a bit on edge. "Yes. You know you're always allowed to speak your mind around me."

"Pardon me, then."

"Pardon you for wh-"

You throw yourself on him, kissing him with passion. His hands instinctively wrap around your waist, closing the gap in between your bodies. You shift to sit on his lap, lacking the shame a normal person, probably not in hell, would have in a high rated restaurant. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him. You feel his tongue enter your mouth, taking control of yours. He relished your taste. What felt like hours in each others' hold, you finally pull away for air. You gasp and pant, looking into his eyes.

"I've worked as hard as I did, climbed the ranks and dirtied my hands to catch your attention the moment I learned of you. I absolutely adore your mind. Working with you solidified that." You smile sweetly at him, enjoying the shock in his eyes. "I'd love for you to keep your hands on me all night." You winked, "Take that how you will."

You hop off of him, returning to your seat. You sigh contently, holding his hand in yours.

"3..." You count down. Sparks fly from the back of his head.

"2..." You turn to him, his screen was flashing all types of errors now.

"And 1."

His excitement, shock and happiness absolutely drained the city of its power. You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder, waiting for him and the city to properly boot back up. If he unfortunately forgets, you'll just repeat it again for him to remember.

#vox hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette

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sevenofreds · 3 months

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Angel revealing the exact wording of his contract with Valentino (and how he can take advantage of it) recontextualizes so much about his and Val's relationship, his friendship with Cherri (and why it's ultimately toxic for him despite them clearly caring a lot for each other), and his reasons for staying at the hotel.

(Buckle up bitches this is gonna be a long one and I spent way too much time thinking about it)

SO, according to Angel, he only has to do what Valentino says while at the studio. Pay attention to that wording. Not "while working". "While at the studio".

Val's rant to Vox implies that, before Angel moved into the Hazbin Hotel, he was basically LIVING in the studio, which means that, by the wording of their contract, Angel was Val's to control 24/7.

While it doesn't really recontextualize Val's whiny bitchbaby moment in episode 2 (because regardless of the contract's exact wording, he clearly wants to be in total control of Angel), it does give us more information about it; Val was upset that he couldn't physically MAKE Angel do any thing at any time anymore, and Angel KNEW that, too.

So why didn't he ever just leave before? That comes back to Val's treatment of him, and how he views himself (or at least DID view himself until his husband friend Husk came along). Val almost definitely got it into Angel's head that nobody would WANT to take him in or help him, which is (one of, at least) the reason why he didn't trust Charlie at first during the prequel comic.

He wasn't just staying at the hotel because it was rent-free; it was because, as long as he "played nice", he was free of Val outside of work.

It does seem like taking advantage of the wording like that goes both ways (Val can apparently extend his hours on a whim without breaking the contract), but if you wanted out of a situation like Angel's, you'd take anything you could get.

And then we move on to Cherri, and her relationship with partying compared to Angel's.

Cherri Bomb is an anarchist. A chaotic partygirl. She's not trying to escape from anything. She parties so hard because she ENJOYS it. It's her way of having fun, of recharging, and it seems like throughout most of episode 6, she thought that Angel was partying with her for those same reasons.

But as we learned in episode 4, that isn't the case. Angel gets drunk and high to escape, to forget how fucked up his situation is, to forget how much he hates and blames himself for being the way he is. And once he found a functioning support system, and people who cared about him beyond his persona, he didn't need that anymore. He learned to accept that yeah, his situation is fucked, and there's not much he can do...but that doesn't mean that there's NOTHING he can do. And he's not alone.

This leads us to view Cherri as a toxic friend towards Angel, at least until she sees that he's getting serious about the hotel; she's perfectly happy with what she does, and was only goading Angel into it because she thought he was, too (she would thrive in Beelzebub's scene if she were able to go there; Angel would fall into the same category as Blitzø). Once she saw for herself that wasn't the case, she said she was glad for him, and that she'd be there if he ever needs her.

It's evident by that point that they care deeply about each other. But Cherri lives a lifestyle that wasn't ever good for Angel Dust; for Anthony. And that's okay.

Whether he was truly aware of it or not, Angel needed friends. He needed a support system. He wanted to be better than he was. And even if he doesn't quite realize it yet...he's well on his way.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #husker hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #huskerdust #hazbin husk #cherri bomb #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin valentino #helluva boss #vivziepop

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peachdues · 2 months

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VIOLENT DELIGHTS (NSFW TEASER)

Mercenary!Tengen x Assassin!Reader

A/N: I’ve been hyping this one up for a while, so enjoy a smutty teaser of Part I of Tengen’s installment in my Tell Me to Stop series.

This will be an enemies-to-lovers fantasy AU where Tengen is a contracted mercenary for the royal Ubayashiki family and Reader is an assassin. Trust when that when I say “enemies to lovers” I mean enemies to lovers. Tengen and Reader take turns beating the shit out of each other and both try to kill each other at least once.

But be warned: things get fucking filthy. Hope you’re ready to see Tengen be the biggest simpy bitch for Reader. Enjoy!

CW: explicit sexual content below • MDNI • oral (f!receiving) • public sex • sub!Tengen • he quite literally crawls for a chance to eat Reader’s pussy • begging • enemies to lovers • Reader’s on a power trip and we love it • defilement of a throne

“That isn’t yours,” a familiar voice drawled from behind the drapery partitioning off the entrance to the grand throne room. Though its tone was almost bored, there was a faint hint of amusement.

Your red-painted lips curved up into a devious smile. “My apologies, I thought I spied my name carved into this fine stone.”

From the shadowy corridor of the throne room emerged a figure,

“It belongs to his Majesty, who, need I remind you, you tried to assassinate not even one year ago.”

“That is old news,” You waived your hand dismissively at him, crossing one leisurely leg over the other, allowing the silky material of your dress to part at the slit around your thigh. “I have moved on. Call it self reflection, personal growth —“

“A higher paying offer,” Uzui amended.

“— All that matters is that I now pose no threat to your beloved King.” You finished smoothly. “I simply wanted to see if the great Ubayashiki’s throne was as grand as the rumors claim.”

The Sound Mercenary only shook his head, his arms folded across his massive chest as he sauntered down the aisle toward the base of the dias leading up to the royal throne, where you sat. “Your very presence on his ancestral seat dishonors His Majesty. And though I tolerate many things, I should not tolerate disrespect to him.”

“Is that why you fucked the one once hired to cut his throat?” You pondered, loftily. “Was it out of this great respect for him that you begged for my cunt?”

Uzui scowled. “I said I shouldn’t tolerate it; I never claimed to succeed in doing so.” And even from where you sat above him, you could see the fire simmering in the Sound Mercenary’s eyes as he passed through a large beam of moonlight that streamed through the windows of the cavernous Hall. “That’s particularly true where a certain devious assassin who enjoys toying with the threads of my sanity is involved.”

You suppressed the delighted shiver that tickled down your spine. “Be that as it may — if you want to preserve the sanctity of your Master’s throne, then you will have to come remove me yourself,” you smirked, shifting forward in the seat, eyes flashing with your challenge. “But be warned: I am armed.”

The silver-haired mercenary gave a great snort. “You remind me as though it were possible to forget how you held a blade against my neck while you fucked yourself on my cock,” his voice dropped to a sultry purr and his eyes darkened. “I may be a blind fool where you’re concerned, but only a simpleton would think to underestimate you.”

“So narrow minded, Uzui.” You sighed. “A woman can be armed with more than mere blades.”

You uncrossed your legs, your fingers ruching up the delicate folds of your dress and pulling them aside, your thighs spreading wide across the seat of the throne.

Your gown was spun from a fabric the color of molten silver. Though floor-length, the bottom half of the dress was not a single, unified garment. Rather, the skirt was separated into three, equal sections, with one pleat hanging straight down the middle. The other two were separated from it by twin slits, extending from the bottom hem of the gown to nearly either hip.

Standing, the openings in the gown weren’t noticeable; but they served an important function, allowing you greater freedom of movement should you find yourself in need to fight or flee, and it made it easier to grab for any weapons you could strap to your thighs.

But the dual-slit skirt served another important function: access.

Your faint smirk twisted into a cruel grin as Uzui’s eyes ran down the length of your body and snagged on the flash of what lay at the apex of your thighs, before you allowed the middle panel or fabric to cover you once more.

It was brief, but with relish, you realized it had been enough to grind all his higher reasoning to a screeching halt; for you’d given him a quick glance of what you knew he wanted most.

Your cunt.

And you’d forgone wearing underclothes.

“Gods above,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “You are sin itself.”

He began advancing toward you, his hands quickly undoing the belts securing his various blades and weapons from where they were knotted around his waist. His weapons dropped carelessly to the floor, the whine of metal against scraping against stone drowned out by the music thundering from the orchestra in the ballroom just beyond the doors to the hall.

“Stop,” your voice rang clear and firm through the empty throne hall, and the Sound Assassin halted, foot suspended mid-air.

His eyes followed your fingers as they toyed with the low neckline of your gown before dropping down to your breast, circling it once. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, before he swallowed hard.

Your head was fogged by the high of his obedience. “Crawl to me.”

Magenta eyes widened, a blush creeping out from under the high collar of his tunic. For a moment, you feared you’d gone too far, that this game you played had run its course, but then Uzui dropped to his knees. Keeping his eyes locked heatedly with yours, he began to shuffle forward, slow and purposefully, to where you remained perched on his King’s throne.

Your slave, indeed.

The revered mercenary of the Wisteria Kingdom’s royal family finally drew upon the dais leading to the great throne. He paused, still on his hands and knees, his eyebrow raised in question as he glanced between you and the stairs elevating you above him.

Quickly, you tallied the number of steps separating you, and your grin broadened.

Ten.

You peered down your nose at the waiting Sound Mercenary with mocking disdain. “I’m waiting.”

The silver-haired guard did not utter a single word as he crawled forward, his eyes unwaveringly locked with yours. Despite his hulking size, he ascended the ten steps on his hands and knees with a loping grace, and within seconds he was at the foot of the throne, peering up at you in both reverence and apprehension.

His back straightened, though he remained on his knees before you, settling instead on his haunches. Tentatively, he reached for you, but but before his hands could graze your knees you extended your leg and planted your heel-clad foot squarely in the center of his chest, halting him.

Your voice was softer than the shadows cast by the dim candlelight flickering in the sconces lining the walls. “I did not say you could touch me.”

Yet you did not stop him as his fingers teased along the outside of your foot, lifting your leg until your calf rest against his collar bone.

“I have not stopped thinking about you,” he confessed with a rasp, his lips whispering against the skin of your ankle. “For weeks, you have consumed me, mind, body and soul.”

He began peppering small, chaste kisses against your leg, each caress of his lips rising higher and higher. His eyes bore into yours, and the vastness of the desperation swimming in those fuchsia irises threatened to swallow you whole. “Please,” he urged as his fingers worked circles into the soft flesh behind your knee. His eyes flicked down to what was between your thighs — what he craved most — before lifting back to yours. “I think I may go mad if I do not have a taste—“

You lurched forward, ignorning the burn in your hamstring, and caught his chin firmly in your hand, halting his ascension up your leg. He did not dare to blink as you leaned in close enough to see the blacks of his pupils dilate, chasing away the magenta of his gaze “I think you’ve already succumbed to madness, given that you’re begging to taste my cunt while your Master is in the next room. While I sit on his throne.”

“Then you are the cure to my sickness,” Uzui retorted, his cheek pressed to your shin. His eyes shone with a feverish devotion, one that flamed the red-hot fire of need burning in your belly. “So please, allow me the chance to ease some of my suffering.”

You sat back against the ancestral seat of the Ubayashiki bloodline, your lips pursed in consideration, though your hold on him remained.

“Show me.” You ordered after a moment, and your thumb slipped into his mouth. Instantly, his lips wrapped around its tip, his tongue flicking across the pad of your finger as he sucked. “Show me who you truly bow to; show me what god you worship.”

You let your hand fall from his chin and settled back against the throne, your thighs spreading wide in invitation.

Uzui wasted no time; deft fingers shoved the slitted panels of your dress to the side, and he surged forward, latching his mouth to your cunt with a gasp.

It was remarkable how quickly a few strokes of his tongue against your heated flesh could melt your smug grin clean from your face. Your head thudded against the high back of the throne as Uzui parted your folds with his tongue, began drinking you in with enthusiastic grunts.

“Thank you,” he moaned between fervent laps at your cunt, his hands wrapped under your thighs, holding you open to accommodate his hulking size as he worked. “Thank you, my sweet villain. Thank you.”

Your grip on the arms of the throne tightened, your nails nearly cracking as your fingers dug into the carved stone with crushing force. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew you were lucky that the Ubayashiki clan had favored such a sturdy material for its royal seat, for the arm rests would have surely crumbled in your hands had they been made from mere wood.

One of Uzui’s great hands tugged a leg over his shoulder, your foot coming to rest against his upper spine. He then bent your other leg at the knee before pushing it far to the side to allow himself to press as close to your center as possible, the mass of his shoulders serving to pin you in place and keep you spread as wide as your body would tolerate.

This new position meant that his nose was flush against the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, serving as extra stimulation as his mouth worked furiously against you.

“I’ve heard that there is no finer wine than that made by the gods themselves,” Uzu gasped against you, pulling his mouth away from your core to rest his great cheek against your inner thigh while he caught his breath. The sight of his lips — rosy and shiny from you — was enough to make you squirm, your hips bucking insistently toward him, desperate for him to continue. “But I know that’s a load of horse shit, because neither the gods nor man could ever make anything taste as sweet as your cunt.”

“Uzui —“ you whined, your need for him too great to care about the desperate edge of your tone.

“Fuck,” Uzui hissed and then he latched his mouth back to your core with a heady groan. His tongue stroked at you, swirling around your clit once, twice, before diving back down to your entrance and plunging deep.

You would have bowed off the throne had the Sound Mercenary’s great hand not slapped firmly against your sternum to push you back and hold you down. You bit your tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep the loud, rapturous cry of pleasure from tearing free from your throat as Uzui began steadily pumping his wet appendage in and out of your heat.

Once he was sure you would not float away from him, his hand dragged down your torso, stopping to palm and pinch at your breasts before continuing its descent, finally coming to press flat against your lower abdomen. His thumb stretched down and began toying with the nub between your thighs, circling and pressing in time with the movements of his mouth.

“What have you done to me? I will never be able to have enough of you.” He moaned in between measured thrusts of his tongue. Your fingers flew to grip a handful of his hair, tugging him harshly against you as your hips began moving or their own accord, bucking and grinding senselessly against his face until you were riding his tongue. Chest heaving, you looked down to see the whites of his eyes peeking through his eyelids before they fully shut, as Uzui lost himself in your taste.

You could feel your cries building in your throat, a mounting pressure that risked erupting and exposing you — exposing you both — to the revelers just on the other side of the Great Hall. You may not have been familiar with all the intricate details of the Wisteria Kingdom’s laws, but you were fairly certain defiling the Crown’s throne would earn you a one-time encounter with an executioner’s blade, no matter how benevolent its ruler.

It was growing more difficult to contain your noises, especially as Uzui’s hunger grew more frenzied, his head rocking harshly from side to side as he feasted.

Just as you were about to lose what little control over yourself remained, the silver-haired mercenary held something out in offering, though the rhythm of his mouth against your center remained constant. In your pleasured haze, it took you a moment to comprehend what, exactly, it was he suggested.

You blinked rapidly in an effort to clear the fog created by his sinful tongue between your legs.

It was his hand.

It hung limp from his wrist, and if you hadn’t known better, you almost would’ve believed he was waiting for you to lean forward and kiss his knuckles, just as you’d spied countless nobles do when getting their monarch. But this was no sycophantic noble — this was Uzui, and though he loved groveling for you, he knew better than to give you orders.

It was an offering; confirmed by the way he rolled his head to the side, his cheek pressing to your inner thigh even as he continued to lap at your folds. As you peered down your nose at him, you spotted sliver of magenta peeking through his eyelashes, before it flicked to his hand and back to you; urging.

His lips moved to wrap around your pearl and he sucked, hard enough that your back arced sharply away from the seat of the throne. Shakily, you reached to cover the hand he’d held out with your own and you hauled it quickly to your mouth, managing to stifle your moan against his knuckles and Uzui continued to suckle away, his tongue sliding along your slit.

His other hand slid between your thighs until his fingers came to rest against your lips. In an instant, he’d spread them wide and plunged his tongue back into your opening, curling and thrusting.

Your teeth sank hard into the flesh covering the back of Uzui’s hand where it was pressed against your mouth, your scream burning as it toiled in your throat. You felt his skin break under the force of your bite, but the Sound Mercenary did not seem to mind; in fact, he hardly seemed to notice at all, far too fixated on fucking you as thoroughly with his tongue as he could with his cock.

Once, you’d thought it was only he who wore a leash, one that had been looped around his neck by you, to be pulled and tightened at your whim.

Now, as your hips lifted to meet his mouth and your mind disconnected from your body in favor of grinding wantonly against his face, you realized that perhaps, he’d slipped his own leash around you. For as much as you insisted you were always in control, always remained one step ahead, you found that you were no more a slave to your own desires than the man feasting on your cunt like it was his last meal.

You were close; so dangerously close, given how your abdomen tensed as that coil in your belly cinched tight.

“Uzui —“ you warned, pulling your mouth away from his bloodied knuckles. But then Uzui grazed his teeth against your clit just as his tongue curled and stroked your innermost wall, and that coil unwound.

Your climax slammed into you with a force that threatened to pull you apart at your seams. One hand clutched at the arm rest of the throne while the hand shot to his head, your fingers ensnarling themselves into his hair harshly enough that you could’ve scalped him, had he tried to pull away. But Uzui wasn’t going anywhere; not as you began twisting and gyrating and bucking against his face, too overcome by pleasure to make a sound, your mouth only hanging open in a silent scream.

The Sound Mercenary groaned loudly into your cunt as you continued riding against his face. A violent shudder passed over him and he clutched harder at your thighs, his hands nearly wrapping around them both as he fucked you through the tides of your climax.

Uzui lapped at you twice more before your legs finally relaxed and the last wave of your high receded. Limp and panting, you forced your hand to tighten its grip in his hair, tugging until you managed to pull his face away from your cunt. You cocked your head to the side, inspecting him, your hand dropping its hold on the silken strands of his hair to grip under his chin, tilting his face up toward you.

Uzui’s cheeks were flushed a bright pink, and his chest heaved as he caught his breath. Your thumb swiped over his bottom lip, and with a fluttering thrill, you realized that the area from his chin to the hollows of his cheeks were thoroughly covered in you, his skin shiny and slick.

Your eyes scanned lower, narrowing in on the crotch of his leathers. Though the throne room was shadowy and dark, you still spied the thick bulge which had formed between his thighs as he’d indulged himself on you. With a smirk, you leaned forward and ran your other hand over the laced seam of his breeches, ready to hear him hiss as you made contact with his hardness, but to your surprise, the material was damp.

Your eyes flicked to his, wide as you withdrew your hand, your thumb running over your palm where a small bit of his spend had seeped through his laces.

Uzui kept his chin high, his eyes full of a besotted wonder as you leaned back against the throne, and grinned.

“You might wish to visit a washroom before you return to your post, Uzui,” you mocked, sweetly. “Lest you allow your entire Court to know how you truly enjoying spending your time.”

“I suppose you’re right; imagine how quickly I’d be sent to the gallows if my master learned I’ve whored myself out to the enemy.” He bit back, a rueful smile forming on his lips. “Though if you were my wife, I could wear your pleasure like a badge of honor.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Mine,” his answer was quick and assured. “There is no higher honor than having you moan for me.” He paused for a moment, his hand reaching for you, and you allowed his knuckles to softly caress your cheek. “Though I think i might consider treason if it meant hearing you utter my name — my true name.”

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tengen uzui #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny uzui #kny tengen #uzui x reader #uzui smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fanfic

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livefastdriveyoung · 22 days

Text

Every team has a first and second driver. It is just that not every driver fulfills the role in the same way.

At Aston Martin we know Fernando is driver one. He is the more experienced driver, and right from the mouth of Lawrence Stroll himself, was brought in to make Lance a better driver so he could one day be the first driver. He does media, he's funny, and he also clearly has a mentor/mentee relationship with Lance.

I call this the mentor/mentee set up

At Mercedes, we know that Lewis is Driver one. Based on titles certainly, age almost definitely, and also because he is Lewis Hamilton. Until February, and even after, when you think Mercedes, you think Lewis. He is their better driver. He won six championships with them. He's stayed longer than most drivers stay on the whole grid. It is his through blood, sweat, and tears. George is the prince, he's set to inherit, potentially (BTW TORGER, I would like a word), and has a lot to live up to. Comparisons are hard, especially when the first driver is Lewis. I think that it's a forced proximity set-up, but they are friendly. Mostly off the track because on track they do not have their greatest moments.

I call this the King/Heir Apparent set up

At Red Bull, we know that Max is Driver one. Aside from the championships, he is just too fast. Every time one of the other drivers who drove alongside him was brought up to Horner or Helmut (YIKES to both), they would compare where they raced to Max. It is unattainable, and isolating. Until Checo. Checo didn't think he was going to be able to drive after BWT. He didn't have a contract, he was a middle of the pack driver, Mexico's son, and his story was supposed to end there. The Red Bull contract was a dream, but for all of the weird behavior some of y'all have with him (again, he's had his problems but the racism and idiot syndrome some apply to him is also NOT OK) he's not an idiot. He knows he's on a limited contract, he knows he's no spring chicken. Hearing him talk about next year, he knows he's very likely out of a contract. But he doesn't let any of this impact his relationship with Max. They are teammates, Checo will do what is best for the team. Max's whole world is predominantly driving. Checo has more of a balance, and in some ways, allows Max to be young.

I call this the Sibling set up.

At Ferrari, Charles LeClerc is Driver one. He is il Predestinato, the second coming, Monaco's prince. He can do no wrong. Carlos Sainz is the second driver. In spite of the fact that he got dropped from the team, in spite of the fact that he has won them two races, he is the one that is being pushed out. But he and Charles are friends, and teammates. They've driven together for several years now. Ultimately, while Carlos has done most of the heavy lifting on his side of the garage in terms of strategy and driving, he is also the one who knows when to walk away from the fight, when to stop letting yourself get hurt by the team that should be defending you. For Charles, Ferrari is a promise to Jules, to his father, to himself. He cannot walk away. In some way, Carlos can. That's why he makes the good second driver. The second in command is the one that sees the whole picture, including the first in command, because they never look at themselves.

I call this the friends/us against the world set up.

At Mclaren, driver one is Lando Norris. An indefinite contract, the sponsors, the adoration, Lando is the golden child. But Oscar is too, sort of. They're both young, both incredibly talented. But they're young. They're doing this together. McLaren went from disaster to top of the pack last season, and they're both on this ride together. I think McLaren is going to do whatever it takes to get Lando his win, but then I think they'll split 50/50. What will happen then, I don't know.

I call this the to soon to tell set up

At Williams, Alex Albon is so clearly driver one. Last year, he scored the majority of the points, they signed him for an extended contract, and they're desperate to keep him for 2026, when the car is supposedly going to be insane. Logan is the second driver. Alex wants to be the mentor, and to some degree he is. But Logan's narrative from last season to this season has shifted dramatically. Less and less people want to see him gone, they like the American. Williams renewed him. Whether because of sponsorship or genuine interest in his improvement, I don't know. But, in the last two races, they have managed to tank Alex's reputation, and boost Logan's. You don't publicly destroy your second driver's confidence, and career potential so publicly and walk away clean. We've seen it with Red Bull and Pierre, and Alex. Both times, those two drivers walked away with insane support. Logan is now receiving the same, but I wonder if it is going to make a difference. I think that Logan talking about what is best for the team is what is keeping him going, but if you watched the newest Team Torque, you can see fatigue and some tension between him and Alex. I don't know if it is jet lag, or work, or stress, or damage to the relationship. But this is a driver relationship on a razor wire.

I call this the Icarus set up

At Alpine, it is Pierre. He gets away with murder, at least by the team. Esteban has certainly mellowed a little, but he calls Pierre out still. However, they are both miserable with the car this year, so I think they are probably commiserating. The fact they can work together after years of rivalry and blatant hurt between the two is interesting. I think that both of these men have racing above all on their heart, and they will do whatever it takes to stay there. So for now, they suffer in the car, and they are colleagues.

I call this the "there's no other choice" set up (aka forced proximity)l

At Visa CashApp, there's currently a power struggle. Daniel is Daniel. He's been second driver for a few years, he's been third driver. He's got the popularity, though it is waning, and more importantly, he's got Christian Horner's support. That, plus the fact that the team talks about Daniel's presence being about helping them improve, makes him sound like first driver. Except, Yuki has been First driver for years. He's the one who stayed through the revolving door of drivers. This is his team. Honda pays the majority of his salary. So when you bring someone in, someone who doesn't even want the seat as much as he wants the Red Bull seat, the seat that should be yours, you're not going to go down without a fight. It creates this weird tension, but then Daniel is like "I know how lucky I am to be here, I'm focused on driving here," and is already being threatened with losing the seat like Nyck was, and Yuki realizes he might never get the Red Bull seat. So you have these two guys who are fighting for the same thing, that doesn't want them.

I call this the Alone Together set up

At Sauber, it is Valtteri. He has won gps, he's former Mercedes, who used to come second usually only to Lewis. He's funny, older, a weirdo that people love and feel they know. Zhou is younger, he's dealing with the pressure of being China's only son, and the higher expectations of him. Valtteri helps keep him young and focused. He's been through the wringer, and he's teaching Zhou that it is not going to be what breaks you.

Also Mentor/Mentee except the mentors are nuts in a different way

I don't know what the hell is going on at Haas.

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mickyschumacher · 10 months

Note

style was so fucking good HOLY SHITTTTT can u please please please do a part 2 xx

𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after separating from carlos, you thought you would never ever have to see him again. but fate is demanding and it demands you bumping into him in a club. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy (bc where would we be without it), reader is younger than carlos but not like insanely, reader has vagina, angst, ferrari SLANDER, charles moves to redbull oop, GOOGLED SPANISH! I'M SORRY 😭, teasing, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies peeps!), oral sex, cumming inside, car sex = dangerous car driving, brief handjob, dry(?) humping, confession time AHHH, incorrect modelling stuff again lol, nicer!carlos ♡︎

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: complicated ex!carlos sainz x model!fem!reader, bestie!lily he x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+ (whoops)

𝐀/𝐍: a lot of people wanted a part 2 so.... here it is! i hope this is up to your par with what you were thinking about ♡︎ has bit of a build up but the smut is there! decently proof read... i think? my eyes are vv tired from these exams :(

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

Three years.

A lot can happen in three years.

For you that meant with some crazy luck becoming the World's top supermodel. Kendall Jenner, Gigi and Bella Hadid, Emily Ratajkowski... whoever the top once was, you had put them all to shame. You were booked and busier than ever. You could've sworn you used to get your beauty sleep but now you were lucky if you could even get an hour let alone eight. The billboards and the magazines loved you and the public, god the public, they cherished you.

Never had the world needed a relatable, kind role model more and there you were. A diamond in the rough, waiting to be seen. You were even on your way of becoming an entrepreneur in sustainable fashion.

Everything was going your way.

It was a surprise for you. After Carlos, you thought you would be moping forever. And you did, at least for a few days. But when your manager and stylist advised you to release your pent up emotions, you thought the best way to do that was fully committing yourself to your work.

No more relationships. No hookups. No races. No Carlos.

And somehow, it worked. You were a single supermodel who won over the public. No races, no Carlos. You were bringing your company money.

But yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about Carlos. His smugness, the puppy brown eyes, his touch, the little signs that he cared; the softening of the side of his eyes when he looked at you before they were ridden with lust or his need to have some part of him touching you; his hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, or soft circles rubbed on your inner wrist.

You missed him.

But that was three years ago.

You and Carlos didn't even run in the same circles anymore.

For Carlos, three years meant extending his contract with Ferrari, although God knows why, losing three chances at a championship, fighting with Adami over the radio far more than he liked, and losing Charles to Red Bull. All while feeling very empty. No one really recognised who Carlos was anymore. Not his family, not the drivers, and not the fans. Hell, he himself didn't know who he was.

Whoever Carlos was right now... it was the mere shell of who he used to be.

He was drinking far too much for an F1 driver celebrating other's podiums. And now he got angry. He didn't get angry, he seethed. He let himself feel vexed in order to get motivated. But now he was just angry and torn but not for no reason.

Carlos was an idiot. He had made an irrevocably stupid decision. Separating from you was the worse decision he had ever made. And that said something considering he had extended with the most infuriating F1 team of the past few years.

How could he have even made that decision? Normally, he thought things out. He was an F1 driver, for God's sake. Some sort of thought could be accounted for. But he didn't know what it was... maybe he was too emotional the night he was with you. Whatever it was, he should've thought it out.

God, Carlos should've realised that all he needed to do was put more effort it. You and him... it would've worked. He would've stopped hurting you. He would've been fully committed to you.

But no. He had fuck to it up.

To say Carlos hadn't been stalking your socials everyday was an understatement. Cumming to your name was a pre-race ritual that had now turned into checking what projects you were doing. Not to be dramatic, but to him, it felt like you were just keeping him alive, giving him a reason to live.

Carlos couldn't even muster the courage to call you and ask if you could talk. He didn't deserve that. Like he said, you deserved more. And all these fans and the fame and money... you deserved all of it and more. Staying away from you was the best thing he could do for you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos had made a terrible, terrible decision to attend the Miami after race party after saying he wouldn't. In fact, he couldn't. Not when he knew for a fact that you were in a club only down the street.

The temptation to see you was strong.

The club lights flared across the dance floor while the heat and humidity of all these dancing bodies clung to his warm skin. Carlos' hands shook silently at his side while Charles and Lando mixed in conversation. Every fibre of his body was telling his feet to stick to this floor. He couldn't see you. He was only going to ruin your night. He bit down on his lip, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.

But his heart... it was a strong heart. And it was telling him to take that five minute walk.

"I'm just going to get some fresh air," Carlos yelled over the music blaring in his ears. Charles and Lando gave the Spaniard a nod before returning to their conversation.

Carlos tried to make his walk to the club as long as possible, veering off to the side, staring far too long into the windows of other stores. But eventually, he stood in front of the thriving club.

You were celebrating having reached 50 Vogue covers, including the Big Four twice. You told your manager you were fine with having dinner at home but the refusal was immediate and came with the claim of you needing a break. So here you were, dressed in the most sparkly, skimpy, backless deep cleavage silver slip dress, dancing your ass off.

When Carlos entered the club, it was hard to miss you. How could he? You were the centre of attention, dancing around in your little dress that was fighting to cling to your body while everyone cheered you on.

He shouldn't of come. He knew it. Because now, he couldn't leave. No matter how much he knew that to leave was the right decision.

You, on the other hand, didn't notice Carlos so easily. You were having the time of your life, swaying your hips side-to-side as the beat coursed through your veins. Your skin was dotted with sweat while a handsome stranger had come up to you, clearly looking to hook up. And while you weren't looking to screw just anyone, you couldn't shy away from the little bit of grinding your body so desperately craved.

The euphoria wasn't as high as you had once felt but it was enough to keep you on your toes. Heat travelled through your stomach while your eyes closed and your head fell back as another man moved behind you. You were in a haze of pleasure that made your pussy ache.

God, maybe you were too desperate for some pleasure. Because why did it feel like Carlos' cologne had engulfed you? Why did the fire burning within you flare up even further all of a sudden?

Your eyes shot open and a gasp fell from your lips when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at the man with wide eyes.

"Cariño," Carlos breathed out, hooded eyes peering down at you.

Your throat felt constricted. Your eyes watered with anger and shock.

"No," You said, pulling yourself away from him.

"No, no, no," You repeated while Carlos took a step towards you, hand reaching out to stop freaking you out.

"Y/N... I–" Carlos was cut short as you raced towards your table and picked up your purse and jacket, heading towards the exit doors of the club.

You could hear Carlos jog to catch up with you. Sighing, you put on your jacket, striding as far as you could in those stupidly beautiful heels you had worn. But you seemed to forget that he was an athlete at the end of the day.

"Y/N, please. Don't do this," Carlos begged, an inch away from you.

Your lips sunk into your bottom lip, ears attempting to block out the warm voice you had been craving for the past three years. Your heart was racing against your chest while your mind fell into disarray.

"Y/N," Carlos repeated, grabbing your arm gently.

You sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, feeling the hairs of your body stand straight. You turned and looked up at him with with reddened eyes, making him pause for a second.

"Three years, Carlos, three goddamn years... of nothing," You exasperated with the familiar words falling off your tongue all too easily.

"I know. I'm–"

"'... so sorry, cariño. I don't have any excuses.' Is that what you were going to say, Carlos?" You asked incredulously, arms folded as if they were going to protect you from all this sudden pain.

Carlos winced at your words, staring at you helplessly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I was doing fine... and you... what the hell were you thinking, Carlos?"

A silence settled between the both of you as the cold night air raced to cool down your flushed cheeks. Carlos breathed deeply. "I-I... I missed you, cariño. That's what I was thinking. That what I have been thinking for the past three years. I miss you all the time."

You stared at Carlos silently, chewing down on your lip nervously. This was what you wanted. You had waited all this time to hear those very words fall from his lips. Yet all you could say was: "So? That doesn't change anything." The lie made you crumble on the inside but you continued to speak. "You said it yourself, Carlos, we aren't good for each other. That I... deserve more."

"And you do!" Carlos spluttered, hands flailing about. "You deserve more than a better man, Y/N. You deserve the fucking universe. But I was wrong! I was wrong to say that we aren't good together. We can be good together. I think you complete me and if you let me even have the chance, I would be the luckiest man ever to be with you."

Carlos' hands were now gently holding your face, thumb gently brushing your heated skin. Your heart was now pounding in your eardrums. Your throat was caught. You felt impossibly warm. Your eyes burned, but no tears came out. "I... I gave you so many chances," You whispered.

Carlos' eyes softened at your broken voice as a sorry expression fell over his face. "I know," He sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't think I can ever forgive myself, cariño. But if I have to spend forever trying to make it up to you, I gladly will."

"Carlos," You sighed, closing your eyes. You were annoyed with yourself. Annoyed at the fact you were leaning into his touch and annoyed at the familiar heartache that always let him get away with what he wanted. "I'm terrified. I don't want to hurt again. I don't want to hurt you either."

Carlos felt his heart clench, jaw taut with irritation. Every fibre of him hated that you even had to say that. But you were right. You always were. He whispered softly, letting his forehead meet yours, "You won't. I promise. I promise to be a better man. Just please give me a chance... give us a chance."

You opened your eyes to see those desperate puppy eyes boring into yours. You brought your hand to the one holding on your face, rubbing it gently. You knew your answer the moment he asked. "Okay," You responded with a small smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Initially, it was hard to get as comfortable as you once were with Carlos. You took every step with caution and he could tell by the scrunch of your nose and the chewing of you lip when you pondered for a moment too long. It was eating at him but there was nothing he could do but fufill his promise to you.

Carlos took you out on several dates as opposed to the few he previously taken you on. They weren't grand. No. Instead they were intimate. Dates that showed he was putting effort in. Like the time he decided to have a dinner date at his house where all the food was prepared by him. It was disastrous to say the least but you were also convinced he had gotten his sisters to help him out given that there was burnt food in the trash and it's aroma covered by candles and perfume in the air.

A sunset picnic followed after that. It was one of your favourites. The sun was setting, of course, and the warm breeze brushed past you while you ended up reading one of your favourite childhood books to Carlos. He listened intently as his hands roamed your skin. It wasn't necessarily sensual but it was intimate. Like all he wanted to do was just bathe in your presence. And bathe Carlos did as he began to ask you questions about your childhood and your family.

It bugged him that despite being with you for some time, he knew nothing about you. At least not really. Knowing your body reactions felt superficial in comparison to finding out you had a family pet that you cherished so much, your financial hardships, or that your parents disapproved of your modelling. That really hurt him. You didn't have anyone close to you. And he had just left you.

Carlos mentioned to you how much of a polla he truly was, apologising for all you had gone through. And while you laughed at his comment, you thanked him, hesitantly pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

Carlos gazed at you as his heart throbbed at your action. He stared at you with a twinkle in his eyes. There was something about this moment... he wasn't quite sure whether it was the setting sun that made you glow or that breeze that made your hair gently fly while your perfume consumed him, but it made him nervous and happy.

Carlos smiled at your raised brows. "You're just so beautiful, cariño."

You sucked in a sharp breath. That look in his eyes... it was the same one you gave him when you were just mesmerised by his beauty. And now he looked at you the same way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Three months had passed and you had finally stepped into the paddock after what had felt like forever. Everyone was psyched that you were back here. Fans were screaming your name and the drivers had finally seen the reason behind the sudden change in Carlos.

"So... you and Y/N?" Lando queried carefully, watching you talk to Lily and Alex about all the things the both of you had missed.

Carlos peered over to you, catching your passing eyes. His heart skipped a beat at your little wave and smiling eyes. He grinned at you and waved back.

Lando watched the exchange with curious eyes, pulling a feigned pained expression. "Yeah... you and Y/N."

Carlos rolled his eyes at the man who had become one of his closest friends. "Yes, Lando, we're together. We've... we've been taking it slow. So I don't fuck it up."

Lando smiled at Carlos' words. He slapped his hand on the Spaniard's shoulder. "Good," He chirped, before dropping his smile. "You better not. That's basically my best friend right there. You hurt her, you better keep an eye out for Lily and I, and Alex by association."

Carlos chuckled. "Imagine if Fewtrell heard that."

"What Max doesn't know won't hurt him," Lando shrugged.

Carlos smiled in amusement, finding you walking towards him with the previously mentioned couple. "What are you two trying to get my lovely lady to do?" He asked with narrowed eyes when you appeared with a suspiciously wide smile. A beautiful smile, but suspicious nonetheless.

You flushed at his words, taking in a deep breath. "I may have been convinced to do a bit of... ugh, golf."

Golf. Your most dreaded sport. From the moment you knew what it was, you could not think of a more boring sport to save your life. No offence to Lily, but it was an old man's sport. And every F1 driver playing it did not help. But Lily being the amazing girl she was had changed your mind.

Lando cheered and Carlos' eyes widened slightly. "How did you manage to convince her? Even I couldn't get her to join me. Me out of all people."

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. "I think your win from me golfing is a little different from Lily's. Lily wants me to learn."

"Yeah? And what do I want that is so different?" Carlos asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to me.

You stood on your toes a bit, reaching his ear. "Quieres verme con esa diminuta ropa de golf," You whispered in Spanish, pulling away from his ear. "Esa es la diferencia." You want to see me in those teeny little golf clothes. That's the difference.

You felt a familiar tingle creep up your spine as you met Carlos' darkened eyes and tightened grip on your waist. His tongue darted out, swiping his bottom lip while he eyed you carefully. You were a vixen. A final smug smile rested on his face. "You're right, cariño. That's exactly what I want."

Lily looked at you two blankly. "Anyone catch that?" She asked Alex and Lando, who both shook their heads. She sighed, "Leave it to us to not know one of the most popular languages in the world. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. Try keep your hands off each other, there's kids."

Lando gaped at Lily's side glance towards him. "Well I never!"

Carlos grinned at Lando's words, keeping an eye on you. "I'll try."

You drew a sharp breath. What kind of mess had you exactly set up for yourself?

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Carlos wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting when you had told him that your manager had sorted out a golf outfit since it was not like you were playing an official tournament. But when you arrived to meet Carlos, Lando, Lily, and Alex at the golf course, Carlos let out the most strained sigh he had ever released.

You were a model, sorry, a supermodel, you looked good in everything already. But you dressed up for his favourite pass time was killing him.

You stood in front of him in the sun visor that hid your long hair, wearing the absolute tightest sleeveless polo shirt known to mankind tucked into small little pink skirt that rested at the middle of your thighs.

God, you were leaving very little for Carlos to imagine. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do to you first: 'accidentally' splash that white shirt with water because he just knew by those nipples that you weren't wearing a bra or excuse the both of you to the bathroom where he could bend you over and fuck you senselessly.

Lily let out a low whistle when she saw you. "Y/N, the woman you are..." She clicked her tongue while shaking her head.

You laughed lightly as Alex look at her incredulously. "I'm right here, you know."

"Alex, are you a woman named Y/N?" Lily asked genuinely.

"I– no," Alex stuttered with furrowed brows while Lando grinned.

"That’s what I thought!" Lilly gave a smug smile, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek before linking her arm with yours.

Alex stood with Carlos, blinking blankly at your retreating figures. “I don’t get it,” Alex told the Spaniard.

Lando chuckled while Carlos placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t need to. It’s Y/N. Now come on. From what I know, you have a lot to learn from Lily.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos was already bracing himself for whatever antics you were going to put up. He was expecting your full on ass up against him, teasing him to the point where he did end up taking you in the bathroom.

But you had decided to go the hard way.

When Carlos was teaching you how to hit the ball and what angle to use the golf club, he severely used the opportunity to put his hands on your hips. He thought you were going to fall back into his chest and press up on him. But instead you decided to listen to his instructions all so intently.

Then he saw it.

Your tongue darting out past those perfect lips of yours, wetting all those crevices with a natural sheen before you sunk your teeth to concentrate on hitting the ball.

And after he had seen it, Carlos couldn’t see anything else normally. Or he would argue that you wouldn’t let him.

No way was the slip of the golf ball accidental. Not when he watched you slowly bend down to get it, revealing your delicious cleavage in the so very unfortunate cut of your polo. Not when he watched your pink skirt cling to your thighs tightly as your lips jutted out to blow away the dirt from the ball.

It was a golf ball, for God’s sake. Of course it was going to have dirt on it.

And as you stood up, you turned so your ass faced him, skirt hugging your ass tight enough so he could see a sliver of your bare pussy.

Carlos could swear that he had never clutched a golf club as hard as he had in his life.

To make matters worse, all you did was strut away with a smirk while you shamelessly checked him out all throughout the games, leaving him with a semi-hard he tried his best to hide behind the thin handle of the club.

You were torturing him without even touching him. And he hated it.

Carlos couldn’t even excuse himself nor you to the bathroom after you purposefully decide to cling to Lily, who was suggesting different methods to play.

The dreadful day had finally come to an end as everyone began to feel the kick of playing golf for so long. You and Carlos bid goodbye to Lily, Alex, and Lando, after your boyfriend definitely did not inform you that you were going back home with him instead of your manager.

After packing your things away in Carlos’ red Ferrari, you happily took a seat in the front, letting out a small yawn as you stretched your arms.

Carlos quietly eyed you as he reversed out of the parking lot. “Tired?” He asked.

You nodded with slightly heavy eyelids. “It takes a lot of energy.”

“I agree,” Carlos nodded. “Teasing takes a lot of energy, hmm?”

Your eyes were fully awake now. You peered at the side of Carlos’ face. His jaw was taut and hands tightly gripped the wheel. You tried to hide your teetering smile but it was difficult. You just loved riling up Carlos. Especially sexually.

“A lot,” You agreed, also nodding before you moved your eyes out your window to prevent you from fully grinning.

Carlos internally sighed. You were a menace.

As he drove to his hotel, an idea popped into Carlos’ head. He knew the way to hotel and golf course like the back of his hand. He also knew that in two left turns, there was the most sketchy but quiet road in town.

Carlos pushed down the indicator, watching the left arrow blink rapidly at him while he turned the wheel. He could see your head turn to him in curiosity.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

Carlos smiled softly, shaking his head as if it was nothing while taking the last left turn.

You raised a brow. You feigned a gasp. “Is this where you kill me? Is this how I die? On some road in Miami?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Yes. How did you know?” He deadpanned.

Carlos parked the car in between some trees, ensuring that all the windows were fairly covered because no matter what, at the end of the day, he cared for both for your images.

Carlos turned to find your eyes already on him, waiting for an explanation. “You know the last time we met in Miami?”

You blinked blankly at him. “How could I forget?” You retorted sarcastically, covering up any last few traces of pain associated with that trip.

Carlos pursed his lips, smiling apologetically. He took your hands into his, rubbing them gently. “Well, when we were in the car, I had this vision—well I always have this vision but it was strong then, anyways—I had this vision of fucking you in this car, on the highway, ass on the wheel, making a mess on me, and making you cum so hard that you cover that Ferrari logo.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes dilated in pleasure. Suddenly you felt tingly all over your body and a strong heat pulsating in between your thighs. You pressed your thighs together at the thought.

“So I thought,” Carlos confused, smirking at your action, “although you’ve been a tease, I would still like to fuck the life out of you, cariño. Isn’t that so nice of me?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You wish you had the urge to roll your eyes. You really wish you did. But your breath was caught in your throat and you just felt a dribble of arousal leak past your aching core.

Instead you moved over to Carlos, putting a leg on either side of him and brought your lips to his.

Carlos immediately responded, hands flying towards your hips, gripping on your skin while he intensely kissed you back. He kissed you not just as a starved man, but a parched man. As if your lips were water and all he could do was drink you.

Your stomach churned with a familiar fire of pleasure. Your skin raised with goosebumps as Carlos’ thumbs circled your skin through the fairly thin fabric of your polo. A muffled moan was lodged in your throat the sound of Carlos’ grunts.

Carlos’ hands moved from your hips to the hem of your skirt. His hands dipped under the pink material that had been enticing him all day, feeling the ample flesh of your bare ass. An audible moan came from his throat as you had moved your lips to his neck to stop drinking those beautiful sounds.

“You’re such a tease, you know that? No fucking underwear so I could see those juicy lips of yours? Were you just waiting for me to take you from behind? What if Lando saw? Hmm?” Carlos queried, groping your ass while his fiery puppy browns pierced into your eyes.

You let out a small whine against his heated neck, bucking your hips against his cock.

“You like that, cariño? The idea of getting caught?” Carlos asked even though he clearly knew the answer if he looked down at the dark stain beginning to form on the front of your skirt.

Carlos smiled softly at your impatient eyes, pressed your hips onto his groin. “Grind on me, cariño. Make a mess on me,” He whispered, taking your lips with his once again.

You moaned as you rocked your hips back and forth in his bulge. The wave of arousal you craved slowly creeped up on you. The hard textured material of his shirt felt like a sin against your pussy. Carlos’ hands helping you keep your pace and making sure you felt every part of hard-on set you on fire.

Smoothly, Carlos used one of his hands to sneak up your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers leaving you in a blaze as he grazed your skin. “That’s it, cariño, that’s it,” He murmured against your lips. His fingers confused past the apex of your thigh, nearing your burning core.

Fuck, were you turned on. The heat radiating off your pussy was dangerous. His thumb edged towards your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves ever so slowly.

“Shit,” you swore, arching your back against the steering wheel. Your pussy ground up against his fingers while trying to press further on his cock; entertaining both levels of pleasure.

Carlos felt his cock tighten painfully against his hands when he moved his eyes from you and down to where your pussy met him. God, you had made a mess. His eyes flickered back up, watching you obscenely cover the Prancing Horse. “Merde,” He cussed.

This was how he wanted you. Fuck. Making a claim on everything that belonged to him with your body. Just the way he wanted.

You could feel Carlos dip his head forward, giving a long lick to your right nipple. You were sure your white polo was now see through, letting your pebbled mounds become available for Carlos’ disposal. You moaned, feeling your pussy become sticky with pleasure as Carlos pulled down the cut of your polo, freeing your breasts from those teasing confines, watching them bounce in admiration before he wrapped his lips around your nipple.

You arched your back even further, pushing your breast into his mouth while the other hand resting on your hip moved to fondle your lonely nipple, leaving you to do the rest of the work. "Carlos," You cried out breathlessly, speeding the pace of your hips as a familiar coil began to unwind at the pit of your stomach.

Carlos knew that tone better than he knew his circuits. Unlatching his swollen lips from your nipple, he looked up at you, making you moan even further. It was hard to disagree that Carlos was a good looking man, but right now, you were seeing him like no other: puffy lips, sweat-ridden tousled brown hair, cheeks freckled with pinks and reds, dark lust-hazed eyes... all for you.

"Don't cum just yet, cariño. I need to be inside you," Carlos panted, his tongue swiping his lips drenched.

You shuddered at the action before looking at him in dismay. "Carlos. Papi, no. Por favor." Please.

Just when Carlos thought his cock couldn't harden any further, you had proven the impossible. He held your chin in his hand, forcing you to hold his gaze. "Don't do that, cariño. Don't papi me. I'm already being so nice, hmm? Be a good girl and listen to be, okay baby?"

You sighed in frustration but you hips eased it's speed, succumbing to Carlos without a second thought.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of your head, continuing to rub your clit excruciatingly slow. "That's my girl," He praised, pressing you right against the steering wheel as he lifted his hips up.

Naturally your hands fell to his shorts, eagerly pushing down the pair of clothing as far as you could in this space. Your mouth salivated at the large bulge in his grey boxers. It was like his cock was greeting you; aching to me to you. In awe, you put your hand over his hard cock, softly brushing over the pulsating bulge.

"Fuck," Carlos sighed, eyes closed, feeling like he was on an obscene high already. He felt you gently trace over his thick cock, going even slower when you reached his tip, painstakingly grazing his slit through his boxers. He shot out his hand, holding yours in place.

Carlos swallowed all the saliva that he had gathered after seeing your wide, almost innocent, eyes beaming at him while a sickly sweet smile sprawled across your face. Jesus. How did he ever let you go? Now that he had you, he most certainly couldn't.

You grinned, knowing exactly how to awake the monster within him. You pushed down his boxers, letting him fully settle into the seat of the Ferrari and his cock stand against his toned stomach with a shade that almost made it look like it was angry with you for taking this long.

Gathering all the saliva in your mouth, you let the hot clear fluid slowly fall from your lips and onto his cock. Carlos sighed at the feeling, thumb reaching out to gather the last few drops from your lips before you brought it into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the pad of his thumb, giving him a pre-show before you released him.

Carlos watched as you bent down towards his cock, using your hand to rub your saliva down his throbbing cock. You could feel him pulsing in your hands, dying to be inside you. You lifted yourself back up, signalling Carlos you were ready.

Carlos' hands skated up your skirt, grabbing your bare hips as he guided you over his cock. All this time he had been teasing you as awfully as you had teased him today, so when you felt his cock against your wet folds, you let out a gasp while you hips bucked against involuntarily.

"Jesus fucking Christ," You swore, shuddering at the intoxicating high swarming through your body.

Carlos' cock throbbed against your pussy. He loved your sensitivity, so he pushed himself through your folds again, tip rubbing against your stimulated clit. He grunted against you. He could watch your body defy you over and over again.

But as much as he loved it, Carlos had been waiting to be in you liked a starved man.

Carlos' eyes flittered up to yours while he slowly pushed his cock into you. He memorised you carefully. Every twitch, every quiver. Your parter lips, the frequency of your moan. The contortion of your eyebrows while pleasure laced your eyes. He could remember you like this forever; his beautiful girl.

"Carlos," You panted, "more, please."

"Your wish is my command, princesa," Carlos whispered against your skin, pushing his hips further into you. His hands tightened around your waist, the warm grip of your folds pulling him in like a drug.

You knew it then and you knew it know. Carols had bewitched you. You would never be able to get enough of this feeling. The feeling of his cock jerking into your pussy because he just can't control himself. Nor the feeling of sucking him in like a vice because you want him all to yourself.

Carlos moaned, thrusting his aching cock while he muttered obscenities as if he was under some sort of spell. For what it was worth, he was. Every day, you entranced him. But right now, the sight of you against the Prancing Horse that was waiting to be covered in your cum... your saliva-covered breasts bouncing, your arched back against the wheel... it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy.

Your hands travelled to his hair, lips grazing past the bridge of his nose while you groaned. Your fingers wrapped his dishevelled brown waves around them, giving his locks a slight tug that coursed down his body.

Your hips ground against Carlos harshly, attempting to take any extra sliver of euphoria. His cock drove in and out of you at a rate that left no innocence in this car. It was lewd; the slapping of your sticky skin against one another, your breathless pants mingling together, and the fogged windows occurring from your feverish skin. Fuck, the both of you were in overdrive.

You let out a small whimper when you felt your body start to shake. You looked down at Carlos, who was peppering your bare shoulder with long sloppy kisses as he continued to thrust. Your eyes softened and the coil in your stomach began to tighten. "Carlos, I–"

Carlos smiled at the urgency in your voice. He began to pick up his pace, let out a few breathless pants. "Cum for me, mi amor."

You shook your head. "No, fuck, fuck, I–" You closed your eyes at the nearing high but forced them to open again, finding those puppy browns staring you down with confusion and maybe, just maybe, a bit of trauma from the last time. But you just had to say it. "I love you, Carlos. I love you so fucking much, mi amor. And I'll love you forever," You sobbed out.

Carlos gazed at you with wide eyes, his pace faltering slightly. As much as it turned him on, his heart was probably ten times happier. He felt warm; complete. He softened his gaze, bringing one hand to your cheek. His heart swelled at your natural lean in. Brushing his thumb gently, "I love you so much, Y/N. So much. And I'll never forget to remind you until my very last breath. You're my entire universe, querida (darling)."

Your eyes watered with a sickening amount of love as your body was hit with wave after wave. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed, clenching your eyes, a few tears slowly falling. Your hips bucked up against him, reaching for the high as Carlos rubbed your clit in fast circles.

"That's it, mi amor. Cum for me. Cover the the entire fucking wheel. Make a mess," Carlos encouraged, pushing you against the wheel, making your body convulse even further at the new texture.

"Fuck!" You swore, pussy throbbing and hips involuntarily jerking, reaching your climax.

Carlos groaned at the tight clench around his cock.

"Cum for me, Carlos. Look at the mess I made. All because of you. All for you," You coaxed, riding your sensitive pussy over him slowly.

His eyes flickered to the black Prancing Horse covered in your arousal; each little crevice of the wheel soaking up your cum. God, the monster you made him... He grunted, speeding up his pace as the coil in his stomach began to unwind quickly.

"Fuck, fuck," Carlos moaned loudly, holding you tightly to him. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," He muttered like a mantra, hips stuttering against you. He twitched inside you, feeling the hot salty strings of his cum spill into you.

"Oh, fuck," He sighed again, head falling on your chest while you moaned at the feeling of his cum inside you, clenching just one more time. His cock throbbed with another small high, pumping the last few ropes of his cum into you.

You let out a slow exhale, lifting Carlos' head by tilting his chin to face you. You rubbed his face gently, leaving a trail of kisses on his face as you both calmed down. You eyed the fogged windows and turned to see the Prancing Horse that had started this whole thing in the first place. You laughed softly.

"Well that was a stylish vision you had there," You remarked with a grin.

Carlos grinned right back at you. "Oh, cariño, we are doing that at least once every week."

"Oh, really?" You teased, putting your hands around his neck. "Well this type of car sex is definitely my style," You agreed after some feigned thinking.

Carlos smiled, tucking your sweaty hair behind your ears. He placed a long kiss on your lips. "It's our style."

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 smut #f1 imagine #mickyschumacher #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1

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sinkovia · 2 months

Text

Black Market

Hitman Simon Riley x Doctor Fem!Reader

In desperate need of money to clear a million-dollar debt, you accept Simon's offer to become his personal doctor, earning twenty percent of each contract he completes. But as you plunge back into the black market, ghosts from your past emerge, threatening to unravel everything you've worked so hard to run away from.

Mention of Kidnapping.

Masterlist - Black Market Masterlist

Simon sat in his dimly lit house, the dim glow of his computer screen casting shadows across his face. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping impatiently on the keyboard as he navigated through the depths of the black market.

His eyes scanned the screen, brows furrowing in frustration as he scrolled through the listings, weighing the risks against the potential rewards. Contract after contract flashed before him, each promising a hefty sum of money in exchange for services rendered.

But to Simon, they were all the same—assassinations, espionage, sabotage. The thrill of danger had lost its appeal long ago, replaced by a sense of weariness and disillusionment.

Cursing under his breath, Simon scrolled through the listings for hire, his frustration growing with each passing moment. There were no personal black market doctors available for hire—every reputable one was already taken. It seemed like luck was against him today.

With a heavy sigh, he closed the browser window and turned his attention to the stack of mail sitting on his desk. Among the bills and junk mail, there it was – a jury duty summons.

He groaned aloud, rubbing his temples in frustration. Spending hours in a stuffy courtroom was the last thing he needed right now. It meant taking time away from his work, time that could be spent securing lucrative contracts and staying ahead of the game.

But there was no avoiding it. He knew he'd have to fulfill his civic duty, no matter how inconvenient it might be. With a resigned shake of his head, he tucked the summons into his pocket, another burden to add to the weight on his shoulders.

You find yourself slumping down on the hard concrete steps in front of the courthouse, the weight of defeat heavy upon you. Having lost your case and now facing a million dollars in debt, the world seems to close in around you. With a resigned sigh, you reach for your pack of cigarettes, seeking solace in the familiar routine.

"Mind sharing your pack?" A deep, coarse voice breaks through your thoughts, and you glance over to see a tall man dressed in black leaning against the railing beside you. Without hesitation, you extend your pack to him, and he takes one before returning the pack to you.

Simon curses to himself, realizing he's forgotten his lighter, confiscated earlier by a courthouse officer. "Mind lighting me? Fuckers at the courthouse took my light," he grumbles, frustration evident in his voice.

You smiled and handed him your lighter, the flame casting a warm glow on his face as he lit his cigarette. "Jury duty?" you asked casually, observing him take a deep drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Yeah, you?" he replied, his tone resigned but with a hint of intrigue.

You laughed wryly and took another drag, the bitter taste of nicotine mingling with the heavy weight of your circumstances. "Just got sued for a million fucking dollars."

"Bloody fuck, what did you do?" Simon's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his interest immediately piqued.

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I replaced a man’s heart with a pig heart," you confessed, fully aware of how crazy it sounded.

Simon's eyes widened in intrigue, and without hesitation, he walked over and sat down next to you, his curiosity now fully ignited. Knowing how to perform a heart transplant suggested a level of medical expertise that interested him.

"And how the bloody hell did you do that?" he asked, his curiosity evident in his voice.

“I was just sitting at the intersection for ages waiting for the light to change, when I noticed a guy getting mugged. Without thinking, I grabbed my emergency kit from the car and rushed over. Since I have O negative blood, I used my own blood for a transfusion to stabilize him. Then, I spotted a truck nearby loaded with pigs. I didn't waste a second - I hopped in, grabbed a pig, and performed an open heart surgery right there on the sidewalk. Sure, the guy ended up with a pig heart, but he's alive because of it. And now he's suing me? Unbelievable. Should've left that fuck to die.”

Simon couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, but beneath the laughter, a plan began to form in his mind.

"So he was standing in the courtroom with a pig's heart?"

You shook your head, a wry smile playing on your lips. "No, he ended up getting a proper heart transplant. One that would never have happened if I hadn't stepped in. The bastard would've bled out and wasted all my blood before the paramedics even arrived."

"Are you a licensed doctor?”

Open heart surgery on a sidewalk and having O-negative blood? You were better than any doctor he could hire on the black market.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "No, I had my license revoked a few years back. They said my practice and way of thinking were unconventional, that I should be working in a lab making more Frankenstein’s than helping people. I took it as a compliment though. Those doctors were just scared of what I could do, of how far I would go to save someone."

Simon smiled and took another drag before smashing the cigarette on the floor under his boot.

"So you're looking for jobs?"

You sighed, mirroring his action with your own cigarette. "In desperate need for a job."

"I think we could help each other," Simon suggested, his tone shifting slightly.

You slowly side-eyed him, then awkwardly laughed as you leaned away. "I'm not looking for jobs like that."

Simon's eyebrow quirked up before he realized how he sounded, and he shook his head with a smile. "Not like that, love. I meant that you could work for me, and I'd pay you."

You relaxed a bit and leaned back, intrigued. "What do you do?"

"Let's just say, you stay with me as my personal doctor, and I pay you twenty percent after each job I complete. You'll have your money in a couple of months,"

"A million dollars in a couple of months? What kind of jobs are giving you that type of money-" realization dawned on you, and a chill ran down your spine. Simon was involved in something much darker than you anticipated, and memories of your own past involvements in the black market came flooding back, making your palms sweat with unease.

"I'm sorry, but I can't take your offer," you said, your voice firm but polite. Simon furrowed his brows in confusion and frustration. He had just given you an opportunity of a lifetime, one you so desperately needed, and you turned him down?

Internally sighing, Simon knew he'd have to resort to more extreme measures now.

You got up and dusted off your butt before looking down at him. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm going to head out," you said, offering a weak smile before turning and heading to your car.

That night, Simon tracked down where you lived and noted your home address. He packed his duffle bag and got into his car, making his way over to your house. With careful precision, he snuck into your backyard and opened your back window before silently slipping inside.

Meanwhile, you were sitting at your desk, scrolling through job offerings in your pajamas, feeling the weight of impending debt pressing down on you. With a heavy sigh, you turned off your monitor, resigned to your fate. That's when you noticed it—the faint outline of a man in the dark reflection of your monitor screen.

Simon attempted to cover your mouth with a rag, but you reacted swiftly, elbowing him hard and knocking the wind out of him. Turning around, you landed a solid punch to his jaw, leaving Simon in disbelief. He had underestimated you.

As you ran, trying to reach your room, Simon quickly pinned you to the floor. Despite your resistance, he managed to overpower you, but you fought back fiercely, headbutting him in the face. Simon grunted, trying his best not to harm you.

You nearly reached your nightstand where you kept your gun, but Simon pinned you down again, this time on your stomach. Desperately, you struggled against him, but Simon pressed a rag against your mouth and nose, forcing you to inhale its contents. Despite your efforts to resist, you eventually succumbed to the effects, your body going limp in a matter of seconds.

Simon breathed deeply as he stood up, his chest heaving with exertion. Opening your nightstand, he retrieved your gun with a heavy sigh. "Bloody hell, love,"

Simon headed to the bathroom in search of your medical supplies. Finding what he needed, he grabbed a trash bag and hastily gathered a few of your clothes and essential items. With a sense of urgency, he tied up the bag and threw it over his shoulder, carefully picking you up and carrying you to his car.

Tag list: @shinchanboi @talooolaaloolla

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hellishjoel · 9 months

Note

hi!! if you feel down to write this, could i request something along the lines of: bratty reader teases joel all day, even in front of his friends and in public, so when they both go their separate ways, he sends her a video of her fucking his fleshlight teasing her back for her attitude.

"See babydoll, this coulda been you if you weren't acting all bratty today; I could've been balls deep in you by now, but instead im balls deep in this toy"

SORRY, IT'S BEEN RATTLING AROUND IN MY BRAIN FOR DAYS NOW ♡♡

tease

1.5k // brat tamer!joel x f!reader

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

masterlist

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, brat!tamer Joel, smut via fucking a toy, extended teasing, dirty dirty dirty man talk, pet names, etc. very little editing, a little angst?

A/N: thank you for the request! short and sweet <3

Joel is infuriated.

Your hand is under the table, raking up and down his thigh as if the motion was innocent. As if you didn’t know what you were doing.

It had been like this all day, you had been toying with him. Cat and fuckin’ mouse.

It started this morning. You insisted on coming over to Joel’s place early in the morning to make him a big breakfast, something he could definitely get behind. He came out of the shower, freshly trimmed and manscaped, all for you.

What he didn’t expect when he walked downstairs and to the kitchen was the sight of you making breakfast in just a pair of black panties and his oversized dark gray Miller Contracting shirt. The sight alone made his cock swell for a treat of morning wood.

You served his plate, gave that innocent little face, and proceeded to bend over the table to reach for the salt and pepper.

Joel��s hand slowly moved up the back of your thigh, cupping the globe of your ass and giving a good squeeze to you. He was about to pull you in to sit on his lap, but was surprised to see you just go and sit in your chair across from him, digging into your own breakfast.

Okay.

The two of you had plans to meet up with Joel and Tommy’s good friend Dan and a few others to celebrate Dan’s birthday at a local pub.

That’s where the two of you were now, with your hand raking up and down his leg and doing a few gentle squeezes that really made a shiver go up his spine.

He could feel himself leaking in his boxers, hard under the outline you were absentmindedly drawing on his thigh.

“Cut it out.” Joel told you sternly under his breath, his pint glass covering his mouth as he laid it against his bottom lip, trying to stare straight ahead at one of the large televisions they had in the bar.

“Cut what out?”

So many damn people were around, and it always felt like they were watching.

Your fingernail added pressure to him, Joel’s knuckles going white around the pint glass he was certain he might shatter it.

He felt you lean in, lips to his ear as everyone absentmindedly discussed the game on the tv.

“What’s wrong, daddy?”

The condensation on Joel’s glass and your naughty comment had his pint slipping right through his fingers, his iron grip loosening for just a second before it clattered down onto the table and spilled everywhere.

“Shit,” Joel quickly cursed, standing up from the table and reaching for the closest napkins he could find.

Everyone looked at him and leisurely laughed, dismissing Joel’s little slip, wiping the streams of ale that reached their side of the table before returning to their mundane conversations.

Joel’s eyes were staring daggers into you. He was pissed.

Not only did he have beer dripping from the hem of his shirt, you were watching with a dopey smirk on your face as if you didn’t have anything to do with it.

Joel’s cock has been aching in his jeans for hours now, the thought of bending you over and spanking the attitude out of you was really what he could go for right now.

But you’d like that wouldn’t you? Getting Joel worked up all day, denying him access to his favorite little toy, not being able to pound his dick into your pussy like what he’s been craving for since he woke up this morning.

He’d be a simmering tea kettle until he could get a good cum in, he couldn’t be here any longer.

“I’m headin’ home to change.” Joel announced to Dan who shook his hand and thanked him for coming.

You were in tow, slinging your bag around your shoulder as you followed Joel out with a pleased little grin.

Joel’s face was fuming red like an angry cartoon character, one hand gripping his steering wheel while the other held his clutch.

Your hand landed on his arm, head coming to lay on his shoulder as you let out a soft sigh.

“Someone’s angry.” Your teasing made his cock twitch.

“Don’t like bein’ toyed with.” Joel returned flatly, feeling you run your fingers delicately up and down his bicep, causing goosebumps in your wake.

“Who’s toying with you, daddy? When have I ever not delivered?” Your hand egregiously cupped his cock through his jeans, Joel swerving on the road at the unexpected grip you had on his pulsating balls.

He could cum in seconds if you’d just let him.

“Bein’ a real fuckin’ brat, you know that, baby?” Joel said through gritted teeth, his eyebrows furrowed together as his heart raced, the pressure pumping down to his swollen dick.

He harshly shoved your hand away, feeling your pout from the passenger seat.

Joel pushed his tongue against the side of his cheek as he concentrated on driving, watching from his peripheral as you hiked your skirt up for his pleasure.

You slipped two fingers past the band of your panties, playing with your slick before circling around your clit and letting out a little moan of his name.

Joel’s eyelashes fluttered, he dared himself not to look but he couldn’t help it.

His lips parted at the sight, watching as your fingers moved under the veil of your panties. But he could hear it. The squelching of your wet juices combatting your anxious fingers.

“You gonna let me take care of that for ya?” Joel asked, his final try at trying to get himself in your pants.

He watched you throw up your eyes in debate, biting down on your lower lip before you shook your head and crossed your legs, removing your hand as you sucked your slick right off your fingers. Not even letting Joel have a taste.

“Mmm… nope.”

Joel cocked his head, his throbbing member nearly giving him a headache.

You were surprised to see Joel had parked in front of your house, looking out the window then back to him.

“What are you-”

“Go on.”

You paused, your eyes narrowing on him before you took off your seatbelt.

“Fine… you can come in, you know.” You looked over his face but he was just staring straight ahead. “Joel?”

“Gotta go home and change my shirt, take care of a few things. Go on, now.”

You let out a short little huff, throwing his truck door opening and hopping down, quickly slamming it closed as the truck rocked. You eyed him as you crossed in front of it, hitting the steps to your front porch when he peeled off.

What the hell.

You teased Joel all the time! Maybe never for this long but you weren’t expecting him to leave you high and dry at the end of the night. You liked when he showed you who was boss, telling him that your pussy was all for him.

You threw yourself back in bed, rolling your eyes at the whole situation.

Your phone buzzed beside you after you got out of the shower, combing through your hair before sitting on your bed and opening the video message from Joel.

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped at the sight. Your eyes were glued to the screen as you watched Joel thrust his cock into his fleshlight.

An audible whimper left you, watching it in shock.

His deep grunts echoed through your phone speakers, mouth going dry as you watched his fleshlight get filled up. You were envious of that fucking toy.

“Oh, fuck me,” Joel’s moans were heaven to your ears, feeling a white hot spot start in your stomach as the video continued to play.

His wrist snapped the toy faster down his cock, watching as it was lubed up with his spit and slick from his pre-cum and probably a bit of lube.

Another whimper left your lips, begging that the toy could have been your aching pussy.

“Ya see.. This could have been you, baby doll. Could have.. fuck.. could have been balls deep inside of you right now if you didn’t act like a damn brat all day. This could've been you.”

His words made your bottom lip quiver, continuing to watch as his girthy length filled that toy to the brim.

“God damn.. M’ fuckin close.”

His words made you shutter. You wanted to turn the video off. Hell, you wanted to chuck your phone out the window. But here you were, your eyes glued to it. You could see his dark happy trail, his salt and pepper hair that led to his fat fucking cock.

You should have taken it at breakfast, you should have given it to him at the fucking bar! You’d do anything right now for him to fill you up like he was for his fleshlight.

His phone got a little shaky as he came, Joel’s beautiful but erratic moans filling your ears as he flushed himself deep into his toy, filling it with his white hot cum.

You could hear his breathing slow, watching as he slowly filmed himself taking the toy off his cock. He was covered in his own spill, and all you wanted to do was lick it clean off of him.

“Goodnight baby girl, thanks for the good cum. Needed it all day.”

-----

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winterarmyy · 1 year

Text

Plot Twist | Part I

An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.

Run-through: I just need to get this out of my system. Most of arranged marriage mob/mafia!au I've read has a strong/bratty reader. And a really mean/asshole Bucky. Which is absolutely fine btw but its getting repetitive for me. I wanted to see a reader who's actually soft but fierce when she wants to be. And Bucky who is generally cold and seems to be married to his job but notices small things that the reader do, thus subconsciously started to care about her. They don’t hate each other, nor do they are infatuated. I don’t know if this exist, so I decided write it myself just in case. Enjoy!

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra

Words: 1.1k++

Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: just fluffy and wholesome stuff here. Nothing graphic or explicit.

P/S: I like to write in 3rd pov btw. There's a few mentions of y/n sometimes too. Beware of the grammar mistakes, English is not my first language. This might be 2-3 parts type of fic, so tell me what you think so far.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

“He's late.”

The soft clinking sounds of his rings colliding with each other and onto the dresser woke her up from her deep slumber. Though her body remained still, her mind continued to wonder,

“Late. Again.” She thought.

The sound of fabrics rustling about hinted her of what was happening beyond her closed eyes. The shut of the bathroom door confirmed her speculations.

“So, what if he came back home late? Why does it concern you?” She questioned herself.

Only a fool would believe if she said that she didn't care at all about the whereabout and well-being of this man. He is her husband after all.

Six months ago, she stood on the alter with that man. They swore an oath. They sealed the kiss. He was hers and she was his.

James Buchanan Barnes; Bucky was what he preferred to called. He is what every man wants to become, and every woman wants to be with.

An Adonis of a man; impossibly tall, 6'5"; body armored with thick layer of muscles. Bucky is huge, that if he trapped her against the wall, she might just see the resemblance of him to a grizzly bear. His dark hair flowed just above his shoulder and his steel blue eyes were as cold as his personality.

Though she wouldn't compare him to a frozen blizzard during the winter, he was more like the first day of snow, when the white flakes started to fall.

Cold enough to make you shiver and warm enough to lure you out but most importantly, obscenely beautiful.

However, of course, the main reason of the marriage set up by her father was not because of how beautiful he is, but to fulfil his hunger for power. As if the territories that their family has wasn't enough, her father arranged this union to extend his reign.

Y/N protested at first but knew better than to fight against her father. Being raised in such family, at a very young age she learned to think always ahead; pass the emotions and intuitions. What's the rational and logical way to solve a problem.

Took her a week to wrap her head around the matter, research about Barnes and go through the agreement between her father and her then husband to be. Barnes had listed some main demands regarding the union and although most of them were about their business, but one particular demand had caught her attention.

“After marriage, the couple must be faithful to one another. Any romantic/sexual relationships prior must be severed/resolved immediately. Failed to do so will result to termination of the contract.”

“Hmm. Interesting.” She thought.

Not that she was in any relationship at the time, and all the research result to possibly positive outcome. So, in the end, she complied.

Which then explained why she was sleeping in Bucky's bed six months later.

“I know you're awake.” Bucky's gravel voice startled her internal thoughts. She could feel the indentation of the mattress on his side of the bed, the fresh and clean scent wafting from him. She nearly purred from a sniff of it.

She slowly opened her eyes as if she was trying to peep and god what a sight to see after a restless sleep; Bucky's idea of pajamas was basic pants and nothing above and Y/N didn’t know what to feel about that. Does she hate it? Absolutely not. Does she like it? Well, he is easy on the eye indeed.

The room was dimly lit, but she could see his slightly damp hair; it looked longer than it is dry. Her eyes followed the outline of his body leaning against the bed. The soft light reflected on his metal arm particularly follows the gold lines decorating the dark surface.

She often had intrusive thoughts of tracing the lines; what would it feel like against her fingertips. Does he feel anything? Is it cold? Will it feel good?

“You do know that it’s a waste your time to wait for me, right?” He huffed a heavy breath. She could hear the fatigue in his sigh.

And how does Bucky know that she waited for him before admitting her defeat to the drowsiness? Somehow, Bucky always managed to know things, to the littlest matter, even when he’s million miles across the world.

Just like when she found a copy of Pride and Prejudice on the bed a few months ago. The day before she received it, her copy was drenched in coffee; a young woman bumped into her in front of the café she often visit. He was in Russia that time. “Was it Clint? Did he tell Bucky?” she wondered.

“Whoever said I was waiting for you?” She scoffed, yet if the room was well lit enough, Bucky would’ve seen how playful her expression was.

He hummed a deep voice, “Hmm.” there’s a hint of doubt in his tone.

Y/N quickly follow her previous sentence, “I was simply enjoying my reading, that I lost track of time.” She shifted to face him and tucked herself further into the blanket, hiding the lower half of her face as she looked up at him. She wondered if he could tell that she was smiling just from her eyes.

Bucky’s gaze remained still on her, as if he was trying to reach into her soul, before he leaned closer to peek on the book on the table. Pride and Prejudice written on it.

He chuckled, which was rare. At the least the real ones are.

Of course, she had seen him smile and laugh countless of time. Especially during those gala they often attend. But those were just another set of armor he wore on a daily basis.

Bucky tried to bite back a smile, sinking his teeth into his lower lip, “Lost track of time, huh?” Yet, somehow Y/N can hear the smile in his tone.

“A good read?” he asked as if he did not know why his wife brought up about the book. She never said anything about the gift; not a thank you or a complaint.

She simply cherish it in her own way. He heard from Clint that she rearranged her whole bookshelf just to make space for the book he gave her. Maybe this was her way of saying thank you.

He had been giving her books every week, since.

She pulled the blanket away from her face, lips curled into a genuine smile, “Always.”

Bucky preened to her reply before suddenly, “Okay, enough chit chat. It’s late.” he said almost monotone sounded, as he made himself comfortable under the blanket.

Before she could overthink of what went wrong, why the sudden drop of chemistry; that was when she felt his hand roamed to find hers. Bucky brought her palm closer to his face, she could feel his hot breath against her cold skin.

He leaned his lips on her palm, leaving a soft and tender kiss as he mumbled, “Goodnight, doll.”

Rush of red shades bloomed on her cheeks, before caving into the feeling of his stubble on her hand. She gently caresses the side of his cheeks, hoping it soothes him to sleep.

The corners of her lips curved upwards into a smile, "See? Like, the first day of snow."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: It’s my first fic so... share your thoughts? ily 🤍

#winterarmyyfics #plottwistfic #mafia!bucky #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #mafia!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x reader #arranged marriage #husband!bucky #beefy!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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