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highvern · 2 months

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Work Me Out II

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: simp gyu, car sex, protected sex, dom!gyu, brat!reader, spitting, choking, minor cock warming

Length: 2.5k

Note: happy 1k! i almost deleted this bc i hated it so y'all have to be extra nice to me about it (im joking) (not really) everyone say thank u @cheolism for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part I

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“Hi!”

“Hi,” Mingyu grins, dropping a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “You look…”

He lifts your hand, encouraging a spin so he can fully appreciate the black slip dress gliding over your curves.

“Wow.”

“Wow?” You laugh as he pulls you closer, goosebumps rising under the palm at your bare spine.

“Beautiful,” he sighs into your lips.

He kisses you deeper; crowing you against his chest with a hand at your back. The lull of Mingyu’s lips and cologne lower your defenses, mouth opening to welcome his tongue. But he pulls away just when things breach on the edge of more.

“We’re gonna miss our reservation.” He coos through a smile, dropping a consolatory peck to your nose.

“So?”

You try to bring him back but he dodges you easily, tipping his chin up until your only option is to leave a trail of kisses along his Adam's apple.

“I’d like to take you on at least one real date.” Mingyu argues.

He’d be more convincing if he wasn’t leaving fingerprints on your hips. But you think it's cute how he wants to wine and dine you. When you step back, you notice how his eyes glow the way they always do when met with approval. It’s cute, toes on the border of innocence; and it makes your knees crave the feeling of the hardwood floors so you can give him all the validation he can handle with his cock in your mouth.

But there will be more than enough time for that later.

“Wow, so eating Captain Crunch in our underwear after you defiled me wasn’t a date?” You gasp. “Okay. I see how it is.”

Mingyu snorts but plucks your jacket off the coat rack and holds it open to help you in. “Alright, drama queen. Let’s go.”

The drive is filled with chatter. Over the past week, the initial spark of attraction only grew between you; through chats at the gym, texting, or the one night he came to your apartment and ended up passing out on the couch while the movie continued to play in the background. Somehow it was more intimate waking up fully clothed, big spooning him with your face buried between his shoulder blades than having him drill your guts until tears streaked your face.

Since you slept over that first night, you’ve noticed a plethora of things that make you more fond of Mingyu. How he slurs his words when he’s excited, talking so fast you can barely decipher what he’s saying. If you throw a wink his way while walking across the gym his eyes go wide like he’s completely taken aback by your interest; as if he didn’t have a front seat to how much you liked him. Or if he notices you looking he’ll not so subtly flex or make a face that has you laughing so hard you nearly tumble off the treadmill. Or the way Mingyu prides himself on being a gentleman; pausing his workout and walking you to your car, insisting it's too dark out for him to be comfortable letting you go alone (partially because it's his fault your gym visits became a two hour endeavor since the night in the car, he just can’t stop distracting you in the name of getting to know you better).

It’s the same at the restaurant. Mingyu takes your coat and pulls out your chair. He asks for more details on the book you mentioned on the way over, asking if he can borrow your copy once you finish. He feeds you some of his entree off his fork, splits dessert to satisfy your sweet tooth, and nabs the check from the waiter before you can even think of offering to split the bill.

It’s almost too perfect; like he is running a checklist in his head. But Mingyu isn’t that kind of guy. His enthusiasm is just that, enthusiasm for spending time with you, getting to know you, picking your brain like you’re the most interesting person he’s ever met and he can’t wait to know more.

“How did you not know it was a couples class?” You ask, laughing into the curve of his arm as he walks you back to the car.

“It didn’t say it on the flier! It just said ‘portions for two’ and I thought that meant I’d leave with leftovers.”

“Wow. So Wonwoo got you banned and ate your food?”

“Wonwoo got me banned and neither of us gotta eat the food.”

The collar of Mingyu’s shirt flitters when his chest shakes with laughter, watching you down the slope of his nose. Like a flame in a vacuum, all the oxygen in your lungs is sucked up when you notice how good he looks even under the sterile overhead light. The glass of wine you sipped through dinner doesn’t help; turning your insides to mush and your blood to a boil.

Mingyu is so genuinely sweet you almost feel guilty for crowding him against his car and palming the zipper of his jeans. The taste of whiskey clings to his tongue, sucked away by your own until he opens the door and ushers you into the back seat.

“Mingyu,” you gasp, plucking the foil package from his grip. “Did you expect to fuck me tonight?”

“No,” he groans into the side of your tit, thanking whatever power in the universe exists that you hadn’t worn a bra. “But a man should always be prepared.”

You snort, “Okay, ‘Mr. I don’t sleep with girls I don’t date.’”

“I think that's former ‘Mr. I don’t’ whatever the fuck,” he moans as he finds your mouth.

Fishing his cock out from his underwear, you lazily jerk him to full mast. Mingyu’s hip buck into the swipe of your thumb. You’d drop your mouth to suck away the mess collecting there but the back seat of his car doesn’t provide much room since your date claims most of the space already. Instead, you settle for tracing your tongue across the raised veins webbing across his neck and nipping at the sensitive lobe of his ear.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Mingyu paws at your ass, fingers digging into the flesh and dragging your covered core closer to his cock. His other hand dips beneath your skirt, thumb swiping at your clit and two thick fingers pushing aside the scrap of fabric posing as underwear to stretch you open without preamble.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Mingyu pants.

You meet every curl of his fingers with a whine, face falling into the cradle of his jaw as he works you up. He’s everywhere; all you can feel, touch, taste. Even his cologne floods your nose; the scent of powdery spice and something intrinsically him that you can’t name.

Whether intentional or not, the match of pace isn’t lost on your mind as your fist sinks over Mingyu’s length the same time he stuffs you with his digits; fucking you by proxy while his tongue licks away every sound of satisfaction before it can make its way between your lips.

Before long, Mingyu bats away your hand to use his own. The second the latex is rolled down he holds himself for you, offering his cock like a prize you can’t refuse.

And he’s right.

The initial discomfort trickles up your spine. Eyes closed, chest caved, you take every inch as Mingyu whispers praise after praise into your neck. Twitching in each other’s hold, each clench of your cunt dips his stomach until you pull him back to your mouth and goad him with a demanding draw against his tongue with your own; a wet suckle more obscene than the way he splits you has him returning the gesture with fervor.

Hips finding a jilted rhythm, Mingyu manages to latch to one of your nipples, teeth razing along the sensitive skin until you nearly collapse from the delightful pain.

Arching into his chest so hard it hurts, your voice cracks, “Oh, Gyu.”

“Good girl,” he groans into your chest.

The hand on your ass pulls you across his cock, forcing you down with each of his thrusts up. Mingyu’s loud but you’re louder and the abandoned top floor of the parking deck doesn’t provide any disguise from what’s happening behind the foggy windows of his SUV.

As sexy as you are with your head thrown back, desperately moaning his name, the fear of getting caught is starting to suffocate him.

You beat against his chest when Mingyu pins you in place. He crushes you flat against him, pelvis to pelvis, so deep you feel him in your throat. Tight around the stretch, he nearly loses his train of thought but finds it when an involuntary rush of his thighs makes you squeak.

He brushes his thumb across the apple of your cheek in an effort to quell the bubbling tantrum behind your eyes. “Shhh,” he whispers. “We can't get caught.”

Time stops as you come to a crossroads. Eye to eye, you can see him waiting for a signal. If you want to stop, drive thirty minutes back to either of your apartments, and then go at it like rabbits, Mingyu will do it. If you want him to stop, drop you off at your doorstep, and send him home with the worst hard on of his life, he’ll smile through the tears. But if you want to finish what you’ve both started in the discomfort of the back seat, Mingyu needs you to be quiet.

So you can listen without complaint, bury your face in the column of his neck and bite your lip until it bleeds from strain. Or you can let Mingyu decide the best course of action.

“Then shut me up.”

A beat of absolute silence rattles your shaking confidence. Mingyu’s eyes widen, jumping back like he’s been burned but you fake courage until you spot the way he licks his teeth at the idea.

Whatever permission he’s looking for he finds in the slight dip of your chin. You watch Mingyu’s mood shift in an instant. The playful tilt of his lips melt away, the corners of his eyes freeze over their usual humor. And the arm around the dip of your waist squeezes so tight you fear he’ll leave a bruise in the shape of his palm.

The hand on your face falls to your jaw, pinching your cheek between his pointer finger and thumb as he tsks, forcing your head back and forth mockingly before he forces his thumb between your teeth.

“Shut. Up.”

He punctuates his command with a bruising thrust of his cock; thrilled at the way his thumb digging into your tongue chokes any sound. The hand on your ass nearly rips your underwear as Mingyu uses it to guide your hips, keeping you bouncing in his lap until you're drooling.

Mingyu’s teeth rake against your jaw, “Touch yourself.”

You clumsily snake a hand down, hips jerking under the blind swipe of fingers at your core. Eyes unfocused, ears filled with the rush of blood, you don’t resist the urge to bite his thumb just to see what he’ll do next.

The sting of his palm against your ass isn’t a shock.

But the wet of his fingers on your throat is.

And when Mingyu squeezes, cutting off the blood to your brain for a second in a show of possessive strength, your choked wail is music to his ears.

“Fuck, you like that?”

Nodding like a bobble head, more pathetic whimpers fill the car.

With a shift of weight, he makes you grind against his lap, the metal of his belt buckle cutting into the back of your thighs. But you’re full to the brink of shredding apart you can’t bring yourself to care. Heat in the pit of your stomach blooms, used and deep.

Mingyu fans his hand along your throat, fingers digging into the jut of your jaw to make you look at his face. His hair is a mess, cheeks rosy with sweat at his hairline. A low rumble in his throat is all the warning you get before he spits on your lips and it glides down your chin; slipping under his palm while he squeezes until stars dance in your vision.

Hips stuttering, everything draws tight; every muscle, every vein, each individual cell contracts and detonates until Mingyu fucks into your so hard your head hits the roof as he flails. Thighs firm against the top of his, you feel each sputter into the condom.

“Mingyu,” you croak, throat wrecked.

Everything feels heavy and worn when he brings you into the warmth of his chest. Somehow, you hadn’t managed to undo a single button beyond the four that let you peek at the dip between his pecs; but the friction of his shirt against your sensitive chest makes you shiver. Sweat and spit leave the fabric clinging uncomfortably but you don’t have the energy to change it.

“Jesus Christ.” Mingyu draws in a heavy breath, and the motion has your legs twitching again. “You okay?”

Nodding into his neck, your eyes slip shut. If he keeps tracing shapes on your back, you’re in serious trouble of falling asleep right there in the back of his car with his softening length still inside you. Attempting to prevent the momentum from taking over, you rise on your knees, only for Mingyu to bring you back down.

“Just…just let me hold you for a second.” he sighs, sounding as exhausted as you feel. “Please.”

Peppering languid kisses across his face, down the curve of his cheek, up the bridge of his nose, you smile when he pouts at the lack of attention to his lips. But when you meet them with your own, it's nearly impossible to call it a kiss from the sleepy grins splitting your faces.

“Wanna come back to mine?” Mingyu whispers into your cheek, leaving his own series of kisses. “We can watch that new horror movie you were talking about.”

“You hate scary movies.”

“Oh no, I guess you’ll have to stay the night in case I can’t sleep.”

“How awful!” You mock. “Did you buy more cereal?”

“Mhm.”

With a monumental sigh, “Then I guess I can come over.”

It takes nearly fifteen minutes to find the courage to unwind from each other. Mingyu distracts you by tracing shapes between your shoulder blades and making you guess his artistic interpretation. Each time you're wrong he demands a kiss. Each time you're right he gives you one back.

When you make him guess what your finger burns into his shoulder he nearly faints before deciding it's time to head home, hands intertwined over the center console the entire way.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

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thot-of-khonshu · 1 year

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Say You Love Me (Joel Miller x f! reader)

1K Celebration | Masterlist

Part 2 - Coming Soon

Pairing: Joel Miller x f! Reader (pre and post outbreak)

Rating: M (18+, explicit smut)

Word Count: 6.2K

Summary: Red wine. Rage. Regret. Reunions. When pride separates you from the man that got away in 2003, you thought you’d never see him again. But when going to tie loose ends for Bill and Frank, you see him and a young companion.

Content: TLOU spoilers, slight changes to the story, age gap (~10-15 years), multiple sex scenes, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, cowgirl, creampie, oral (f), rough sex, alcohol consumption, grief, violence, mentions of death, the musical stylings of Fleetwood Mac

A/N: Happy TLOU day! This initially started out as a creation for my 1K celebration to "Maroon" by Taylor Swift, but as you can see it completely manifested into its own short story. Thanks to everyone for being patient for my writing. I hope y'all enjoy!

Every time you have a dream about everything before, you try to document it down in your ratty journal with your pen running on empty. Everything seems to run on empty.

You dream of your former life less and less as the years go by. It’s a hazy memory and you can’t remember how we were able to live on such luxuries and be comfortable and be happy.

You dream of the man with his large hands and warm smile on your living room floor, warm with wine.

Red lips. Red cheeks. Red wine.

The bitter taste of cheap red blends on his tongue.

Sticky Austin nights where you’d start outside in the thick humidity but end it in ice cold a/c. It never mattered anyway, Joel always ran hot like a furnace so you’d have to settle yourself in between thin sheets.

You met through Megan who was dating his younger brother Tommy, a Gulf War vet that was more serious about holding his liquor than he ever was fighting in the war. One night when he’d had too much to drink, Joel, the responsible one, picked him up. A sleeping baby girl in the backseat.

He barged through your front door. “Tommy, what the hell are you doin’ bothering these–”

He stopped as soon as he looked at you. From that moment it was like the two of you had this instant communication. He didn’t have to say anything, all you needed to do was look into his eyes.

“HI there.” He smile at you, that warm smile with that dimple on the side of his cheek. “I–uh–hope you’re not the girl my little brother’s been botherin’ “

“That would be my roommate.” You smile back at him. His smile grows even wider and you can’t remember the last time you had such electric eye contact with someone.

Tommy bursts through the door, coming out of the bathroom with Megan hoisting his large frame.

“Please get him in bed and away from vodka.” She hoists Tommy onto Joel.

“Tell me a bedtime story.” He slurs. Joel looks at you apologetically as he turns to bring him to the car. You and Megan exchanged a silent look as she could pick up on what was going on and she nudged you to go after him.

“Hey wait!” You call out, you try not to focus on his broad back muscles. “I think it’s clear Tommy needs some chaperoning whenever he comes over here.”

He furrows his brow in confusion at first. “Y’know, his big brother to come over and make sure he’s doing right?” ‘You smile.

“Just say when and I’ll tag along.” Joel winks at you.

He was always a man of his word.

The next weekend, Megan invited Tommy over and suggested he bring Joel along as well. Tommy came barreling in like a freight train and Joel laid back to greet you at the door. He held up a six pack of beer.

“I didn’t wanna come over empty handed. It’s all we had in the fridge.” Joel said.

“Yeah, Joel wanted to come right over after workin’ tonight. Even let Sarah stay at a friends house, ain’t that sweet?”

“Alright, Tommy. I still clearly gotta babysit you.” Joel rolls his eyes.

“We’ll, thank you for the beer, Joel but we’re more wine drinkers here. Do you like red blend?”

“I’ll drink whatever you give me.”

————————

A few hours later, Megan and Tommy have gone off on their own adventure. You and Joel split the bottle of wine between the two of you and despite him stating he could handle his liquor, his large body was sprawled out across your living room floor with his empty glass tipped over.

“Miller, I thought you said you could handle your liquor.” You grin at him from the couch.

“I usually can. I don’t know what was in your roommate’s cheapass screwtop–”

“Hey–don’t blame the alcohol for why you’re currently on our living room floor right now. And while she can’t defend herself.”

“You saying I’m a sloppy drunk?” He leans closer towards you and you observe the patches in his beard.

“I’m saying I don’t wanna hold your hair back above the toilet.” You grin at him. He looks at you, hard. You feel your heart rate rising and the moment is almost too much to handle. You need to ground yourself with something, anything. You turn to your vinyls.

“You like records?” You ask him, moving towards the shelf.

“Didn’t know people your age still listened to them.” He called out. You scoffed.

“I’m not that much younger than you. Besides, this is timeless. CDs might come and go like 8 track players, but these? These are gonna last through everything.” You hold up a record and he nods in approval, Fleetwood Mac’s self titled album. You flip to side two and the sounds of “Say You Love Me” flood the living room.

You join him on the living room rug and close your eyes, listening to Christine McVie’s voice.

Have mercy, baby, on a poor girl like me

You know I'm falling, falling, falling at your feet

I'm tingling right from my head to my toes

So help me, help me, help me make the feeling go

“God, her voice is just so ageless. I know everyone always looks at Rumours as their best but this one is just cla–” Your breath hitches when you feel his hand brush your cheek. You feel the warmth of his face coming closer and closer as you finally open your eyes to see Joel ready to kiss you.

But he forgot his wine glass in his hand as it spilled onto you with the remainder of his alcohol.

“Shit, shit.” Joel stumbles up and looks around. “I am so sorry, I can clean that up.”

You get up to him walking around your kitchen, looking for paper towels. When he turns around, you put your hand at his chest and look up at his beautiful brown eyes.

“Why don’t you help me find a new shirt?” You ask him in a low voice. His jaw is slacked as he slowly nods.

“Yes ma’am.” He follows behind you, taking your hand as you lead him into your bedroom.

One thing about Joel Miller? He takes his time. He takes his time giving you soft, syrupy kisses and drawing the anticipation by pulling at your lip.

He builds you up by meticulously touching every part of your body while peeling off your clothes, grabbing at the swell of your ass, the dips of your hips and pulling at the back of your neck. He wants to make you feel amazing.

Once you’re naked, he lays you on top of your bed and peers up at you as he pulls your knees apart.

He drags the tip of his tongue over your clit, savoring your taste as he moans in relief. You tremble against him, dragging your hand through his dark curls as he begins to put his full mouth into you, his tongue entering you as his nose brushes your clit. You can’t help but squirm on top of him, rocking onto him as he moans below you.

“You taste so fucking good.” Joel gets up for air briefly and dives back in. Kissing at your inner thighs, he takes one of his thick fingers and pushes one into you, your body instantly tightening around it.

“So wet for me too.” Joel moans. He moves in earnest, putting his mouth back onto your clit and the pleasure is all you can concentrate on. He adds another finger, getting up to watch you squirm at his fingers as your wetness fills the room from his methodical thrusts.

You feel yourself tense, your muscles tightening around him as your pleasure intensifies and your breaths go shallow. When he curves his fingers and moves his mouth back to your clit, you short circuit completely.

You writhe on top of him as you cum, moaning louder than you’d expected and hoping Tommy and Megan don’t hear anything. Your shallow breaths fill the room and your eyes are shut. Pleasure still pulsates through your body as Joel is now on top of you, kissing at your throat as you feel his heavy, still clothed cock on top of you.

When you release it, it springs from his boxers, thick and dripping at the top with precum. You rub the tip of his head as he lets out a hiss of air at your throat. You bring the liquid to your mouth and savor the taste.

“I hope this ain’t too forward,” His hands cup and knead at your breasts. “But I’m desperate to feel you.”

“Please” You beg. “I have condoms but I’m also on the pill. Whatever you need, just please don’t stop.”

Joel lines himself up against you, rubbing his thick cock against your soaked walls. His eyes don’t leave yours as he gently enters you. It’s soft at first, him trying to fit in every single inch while also not cumming immediately while he was inside of you. You gripped him, wet and tight.

During the pause when he’s finally deep inside of you, you both are riddled with heavy breathing. Your kisses are slow but hungry. You start to move below him and that’s what drives him wild.

He begins to pump faster inside of you, rubbing himself against your swollen clit. You don’t think you’ve ever had something so intimate before. You’d had sex, but this just felt like something out of another dimension. Joel was entirely focused on your pleasure, hungrily pawing at your body as he rocked on top of you.

When circled his fingers on your clit, you knew you were going to cum a second time. You grabbed at the bedsheets, another climax of pleasure making you arch.

After you came twice, Joel was needier. He raised your leg so he could get into a deeper position and you had felt so incredibly full. He fucks you at a rapid speed and feeling you convulse around him for another orgasm wasn’t helping and the room filled with the noise of his balls slapping onto your skin.

You loved that his broad body surrounded you, that all you could feel was him and all you could hear were his grunts into your ear. His hips began to stutter as he filled himself into you, emptying himself as much as he could into your tight walls.

You don’t realize how badly you were gripping him until you rub his back, his head on your chest and you feel the claw marks. His breathing is labored, still feeling the impact of your sex as you bury your fingers into his curls.

“This should go without being said,” Joel looked up at you. “But I would really like to take you out sometime.”

You weren’t going to say no to that.

—---------------------------------

You wake up, the motion of the car rattling you.

“Morning, sunshine.” Megan smiles behind the steering wheel. Before everything, Megan was terrified of driving and now you’d catch her dead before she’d stop and pick someone up, choosing to run them over instead because they were likely a hunter.

And wouldn’t you rather kill than be killed?

It all happened so fast but so painfully, hauntingly slow at the same time. In one night, civilization as you knew it had ceased to exist. Megan came home, shaking, covered in blood telling you you had to leave tonight.

You drove until you ran out of gas. You walked until you were able to rob some idiots that tried to give you a ride and take advantage of you. And that’s how you ended up at the Philadelphia quarantine zone. Somewhere far away from Texas and the sticky heat and long carefree nights.

There were a lot of men like that in this world, who thought they could take things from vulnerable women. Little did they realize, the vulnerable women didn’t make it. Not all of them were like that, though. Bill and Frank weren’t.

You’d met Frank over the radio, talking over some music his partner BIll was playing as some sort of signal. Frank was incredibly kind, warm and worldly in a world with almost nothing left. He’d offered to trade things between you and Megan’s QZ and the Lincoln town he lived in with Bill.

And Bill? He was…Bill. He wasn’t exactly kind and open to strangers, but he knew the both of you and trusted you after all of these years. Whoever Frank loved, he loved. So when you’d heard the 80’s distress signal coming from the radio, you’d decided to risk the trip and make sure everything was okay.

When you had gotten to the gate, usually coded, it was wide open and the two of you exchanged looks in surprise. Without having to say a word, you grabbed your handgun out of the glove compartment. Megan pulled up to Bill and Frank’s, seeing their door open.

The two of you had tried to get out of the car as quietly as possible. Crouching behind the car as you heard the crunch of footsteps.

“It could be Bill and Frank.” Megan whispered.

“When is it like Bill to ever keep the gate open?” You asked her. You heard the crunches coming closer.

The two of you signal to step out at the same time, adrenaline pumping through your veins. After all of this time, it never gets easier doing this.

Before you could pull the trigger, you hear a HYAH and see a small figure jump out towards you.

Jesus, it’s a child. Before she could try to stab either of you, Megan pins her down to the ground, knocking the knife out of the way and the kid squirms under her.

You see another figure jump into frame to defend the kid. A man with grey hair, a broad frame and a handgun. The two of you are in a standoff but something feels off. You know you’ve been to Lincoln so many times before but something about this feels entirely too familiar.

“Do not hurt the kid.” The man drawls, looking down at her and then back at you. “She didn’t—“

And then his eyes meet yours. Still as piercing as you remember. And you realize that you’re standing in front of Joel Miller for the first time in twenty years.

“…Joel?” Megan says something first.

“Hi Megan.” He looks at her briefly to acknowledge her, but he looks back at you. The gun still in his hand, gripped tightly.

“We’re not looking for any trouble.” Joel says. “We’re here to check on our friends.”

“Bill and Frank.” You finally say to him. “Our friends.” The look of confusion on his face is apparent.

“You two knew Bill and Frank?” He asks.

“How about ‘it’s good to see you two alive after all this time’, Joel?” You ask him, exasperated. You were tired of holding this gun, your hands were getting clammy and you had no intentions of shooting him. Even after all this time, you knew he wouldn’t shoot both of you either.

Megan lets the girl up and she runs to Joel. She puts her gun down and you motion for him to follow suit. He looks at you for a long hard moment, his eyes scanning your body as you feel yourself redden with embarrassment, feeling fully exposed in front of him and looking like apocalyptic shit. He sets his gun down as you follow suit.

“I think y’all should come inside, then.” Joel said. “Some things you need to see.”

You follow Joel and the young girl-you find out her name is Ellie- into Bill and Frank’s house. You go to the same place that Bill and Frank would keep supplies, notes or any clothing that Frank had to spare - the second cabinet to the right. That’s where you see their note.

Frank’s condition had worsened over the past few years. A degenerative disease you weren’t sure exactly what it was, but when he asked for a wheelchair from the Philadelphia QZ you were both more than happy to bring it to them. You knew it was only a matter of time before he went. When Bill decided to go with him, you weren’t surprised. Despite his exterior, everything Bill did was for Frank, the man he loved.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt that kind of devotion to someone until today.

The four of you sit at the table. An awkward silence between the four of you, the only sound being Ellie rocking her chair. One of the legs must’ve been broken and Bill hadn’t gotten to it ye–

Oh. Right.

“I didn’t know Bill and Frank knew anyone else besides us.” Megan said.

“Likewise. I guess that makes sense.” Joel said, his eyes still on you.

You agreed. “Frank, I’m sure, would’ve loved the extra company. More people to host garden parties and socialize for but if Bill had anything to do with it–”

“He would’ve threatened to kill us.” You say in unison.

“Trust me, he made sure to make us aware if we tried anything he had his gun right on the table the first time we met.” You said.

“His reputation precedes himself.” Joel said.

The two of you are silent for a moment. Megan and Ellie looking between the both of you.

“Am I missing something?” Ellie asked, pointing at the two of you back and forth.

“And I think that’s my queue to look around for some food. Maybe we can have some dinner, figure out what the fuck we’re doing and then call it a night before we go our separate ways, huh?” Megan quickly said.

You sit at the table with Joel and Ellie, completely silent as Joel is now looking away from you and Ellie keeps looking at the both of you.

“You can cut the tension with a knife, huh?” Ellie whistles.

“Ellie, go take a shower. They’ve got hot water.” Joel says. She quickly gets up and runs down the hall.

“You don’t have to tell me twice. But after I take one, you’re going in because man. And if we’re gonna be around company…”

“Ellie.” He raises his voice into a stern inflection you haven’t heard since…

Where the hell is Sarah?

—-------------------------------------------------

Later that night, you’ve hunkered down with Megan, Joel and Ellie. The four of you have rabbit along with some vegetables and rice from Frank’s garden. The tension has subsided as you’ve gotten into the wine cabinet. That’s when the memories flow back. The three of you share stories from Texas, your old lives that seem so long ago. Reminiscing on how things used to be as Ellie interjects with a question about the old world every now and then while reading a comic she snagged from Bill’s basement.

Megan eventually stretches her arms up. “Well, I’ve been drivin’ all day and I’m exhausted. I’m about to hit the hay.”

“Well I am gonna finish reading this in peace and quiet so I can read about this alien’s guts spilling out without interruptions. Goodnight! You kids have fun!” Ellie grins.

Megan gives you a look etched in worry before she heads to the stairs. You roll your eyes at her because you can take care of your goddamn self. You have been for ages.

You hear the footsteps go upstairs as you and Joel sit across from each other at the table. It’s like a lockbox with feelings you hadn’t had in years starts rattling in your chest, a monster of them waiting to come out and erupt.

You look over at him, his hair slicked back from his shower, grays prominent in his hair and his beard. The swell of his lips was still prominent and had the ability to drive you crazy.

“Bill and Frank.” You say to him, hoping to silence the voices in your own head.

“Bill and Frank.” He repeats, his hands fidgeting on the table.

“So, uh, I guess while we’re here–I’m gonna raid the liquor cabinet.” You head to the liquor cabinet to see if there’s anything strong enough to hold the awkward air between the two of you. You see a dusty bottle in the back of the cabinet, a red blend that looked entirely too familiar to pass up.

You bring it to the table, setting it down in front of Joel. He looks up at you and shakes his head in disbelief, a small smile etched across his face.

“After all this time, you still drink the same shitty red blend.” Joel says.

“Can you handle your liquor any better, Miller?” You slide it towards him, he catches the bottle with one large hand.

“I guess we’ll have to see.” He grumbles, slicing the wine bottle open with his knife.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the heaviness of the wine, sloshing in your stomach as you and Joel took turns taking long drinks from the bottle.

He tells you of Tess, his smuggling partner that had recently gotten infected while smuggling Ellie out of the city. While you admired her bravery and her sacrifice, you can’t help but feel a sting of jealousy. You’d had your partners every now and then, but none of them ever stuck around long enough. None of them ever mattered like he did.

“She was like family.” He stated.

You knew you couldn’t just say sorry. “I’m sorry for your loss” almost seems insulting these days with teh weight of how much it happens.

“Did–uh–you have any smuggling partners?” Joel asks, sipping on the bottle and looking away as if to play nonchalant. Twenty years and you can still tell when it’s all bullshit.

“I did. None of them were exactly like family but they were enough to help Megan and I get by. I never trusted them enough to introduce them to Bill and Frank.” You said.

“Oh.” Was all he could say.

“I–I couldn’t. I just couldn’t let myself get too far with anyone after–” You can’t even bare to say it. But he looks at you as if you have, like you’ve just cut part of his soul open.

“What the fuck happened?” You muttered, swigging from the bottle.

“You want the version they’re teaching kids in FEDRA school or the version we remember?” Joel asked.

“Joel…” You give him a long look. He looks at you, briefly, breaking eye contact to look anywhere else and scowl. He chooses to grab the bottle from you, taking a large gulp.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” He says.

“Maybe it doesn’t.” You say. “But I still wanna know. I just…we could’ve had this life.”

His brow arches.

“You and me. Tommy and Megan. Bill and Frank. We could’ve been a team. It would’ve been something.”

“Tommy decided to fuck off and join the Fireflies. Pretend like he was makin’ a difference. And then when that fell through last I heard he was in Wyoming. Megan was better off.” He stated.

“You were…” He silently mutters.

“We don’t have to talk about any of it. I’ve done some shit I regret but I did it to survive. Because that’s what we have to do in this new world. I get it. But those first few years…I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He takes a large drink of wine. “Or Tommy.”

“Or Sarah.”

“Well, there’s no damn use in thinkin’, is there?” Joel snaps back. You know you’ve clearly hit a nerve talking about Sarah. With whatever happened to her. Was she with the Fireflies? Was she with her Uncle Tommy? You’d hate to think it could be any worse. That brilliant, beautiful girl in any sort of trouble or not existing in this world.

By the pain in Joel’s eyes, the exterior he’d tried to mask by furrowed brows and a hardened expression, you knew. Suddenly the air felt thick.

“I’m sorry…I’m gonna step outside.” You rush to the porch as you feel the tears flood through your eyes. Sarah’s gone. You didn’t know that after all of the pain, after all of the violence, after everything this world has taken from you, that you could still feel this searing pain of loss.

You suddenly hated yourself for not being there. For not calling. For running away from things when they had gotten too serious, as if some bullshit relationship problems would matter in a week’s time in that moment. You had no idea what was about to happen.

If you’d known you would’ve lost everything and everyone in your life you had loved, you would’ve tried to hold on to the man you loved and his family for as long as you could.

But then again…maybe it was better this way that you weren’t there. You didn’t hold him back, you didn’t hold him back either. This world isn’t for the weak. Love makes you fucking weak. Joel makes you so fucking weak, 20 years later. It’s infuriating, intoxicating and confusing.

You hear the door open and footsteps come through. You wipe your tears away as you see Joel sit next to you on the bench.

“I’m sorry.” He says, solemnly. “You didn’t know. It was that night of the…”

“I know it’s so god damn insignificant now…but I’m so sorry I didn’t call.” You choke. Joel remains silent, his lips wavering.

“You didn’t know.” He repeats himself.

“So what happens now?” You ask him.

“We do what we came here to do. Get our supplies, celebrate Bill and Frank and we drink.”

“We drink.” You nod.

And drink you did.

You drank and remembered the good times, the times when he’d come over every Friday night that Sarah had a sleepover and you’d talk and touch each other until the sun came up. You drank and remember how even though Megan and Tommy had fizzled out, he had still come over to be with you. You drank and remembered the bad times, when you couldn’t handle the intimacy, you both couldn’t decide what this was.

You can’t bear the way he looks at you. You need an escape. You head to Frank’s record collection.

You dust off the record collection and see the familiar cover of Fleetwood Mac’s self titled album. You look up at Joel and his cheeks look like they sting with glee. He lets out a small giggle.

“What was it I used to tell you?” You try to remember.

“Records are timeless.” Joel says as you flip the vinyl to side B. “You were always right.”

The room floods with the faint sounds of “Say You Love Me”. It had been years since you’d heard this song but you still remembered every word. Joel extended his hand out to you and you took it, fingers stroking his palm.

You pressed yourself lightly against him, turning and looping over the hardwood floor as the music continued. Somehow, someway, you could still smell his subtle sandalwood scent.

'Cause when the lovin' starts and the lights go down

And there's not another living soul around

You woo me until the sun comes up

And you say that you love me

The two of you giggled like children as you looped around Bill and Frank’s living room. The light of the moon shone on Joel’s face and the hardened exterior of the older man was gone for a moment, and you were taken back to 2003 where that gorgeous carpenter was leaning against your doorway for the first time.

Your hand crept up his neck, feeling his peppered curls as he shivered. In response, he pressed his body closer to yours until you were cheek to cheek.

He turns to face you. His eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion of the feelings that were rising. He never thought he would see you again, and these damn emotions kept flooding through his body.

“I showed up to your house that morning.” He whispered. “Right after we dropped Sarah off at school. My birthday.”

“So do you still think it doesn’t matter?” You asked him.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“But it would’ve given us one more good day. Before it all went to shit. And if that’s all we had, then I’m okay with that. Better than the alternative.”

You pressed your lips onto his, slow and calculated at first. You gave him one small peck to test his willingness to kiss you. You looked back at Joel and his eyes were shut tightly.

“I’m sorry–I shouldn’t have–” You try to break away but he tightens his grip around you.

“I’m just trying to savor this moment.” Joel whispers. You meet his lips again, hungrier, needier. Both of your hands exploring each other as if to make sure this was real and you weren’t dreaming it.

“Joel.” You break away as he strokes your cheek. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Yes ma’am.” He says.

It’s no shock that after all this time, you and Joel still fit together like a glove. Your body melts into his with a comfort that you haven’t felt in years. You didn’t know your body could ever feel that good again.

You didn’t think your hair, greasy and damaged when you looked at it in the mirror, could be stroked like that again. As if Joel had gotten a spool of gold and he didn’t want to ruin it, Joel petted you with delicacy as he undressed you.

Your stomach, somehow softened throughout the years with age even though you hadn’t had proper nourishment in years, being planted with soft kisses as Joel moved south, desperate to taste your pussy again.

You climb onto his lap and grip him with one hand, still as thick and as long as ever. You take a moment to look at him through the moonlight, after all these years he’s still incredibly handsome but this world took the sparkle in his eye away.

“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begs. “Let me feel you again. I’m desperate.”

That word is what makes you sink down onto him, inch by inch until he’s all the way inside. It was probably a bad idea to attempt to do this without any prep work but you didn’t care, you needed him and it filled a part of you that hadn’t been taken care of in years.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Joel rasps. “You’re still so goddamn tight.” You can feel your inner muscles clenching at his thickness and the desperate groan that he releases makes you weak.

You start to move, slowly, as his fingers dig into your hips. The pressure between the two of you is unbearable, you feel him and his full length but you’re desperate for more release. Joel’s ragged breaths concern you, though.

“Are you gonna be okay if I go faster?” You ask him.

“I ain’t that old, sweetheart.” Joel rasps under you, that damn smile back in action.

And with that, you lifted yourself up and slammed yourself into him, grinding your clit against his cock at a fast and desperate pace.

He moves forward, putting a mouthful of your breast into his mouth as his other hand rests on your lower back. You can feel the intense pleasure so blindly that you don’t know how long it’ll be until it boils over. When you contract around him and cum, Joel lets out an animalistic groan.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He moans. “Milk my cock, baby.”

You ride out your orgasm and just when you think you have time to recover, Joel begins to thrust upward deep and hard. His hips snapping up and bouncing you on top of him. He tangles his fingers into your hair, pulling you down to thrust his tongue into your mouth.

You suck his tongue and desperately cling to him, unsure how much longer you’ll be able to go without cumming again.

“I can feel it, sweetheart.” Joel groans. “Cum around my cock one more time, just give me one more. Please.”

He breaks free from your tight embrace to rub your swollen clit as you grind on top of him again, trying to remain as silent as possible so you don’t wake anyone else in the house.

You convulse and cum around him again, dizzy with pleasure as he takes one leg for leverage and begins to fuck into you harder than before. At this point, you can’t control the sounds coming out of you as he hits a spot inside of you that feels so good. His hips begin to stutter and Joel fills himself into you. He cums so hard that you feel it leaking out of you while he’s still inside.

The two of you stayed just like that for a few moments, clung to each other as you heard his heartbeat hammering inside of his chest. You peppered soft kisses onto his body as you got from on top of him. The contrast of being full and then leaving him made you wince.

Joel got up from the bed and you hesitated for a moment. Did he regret this decision? Was he going to sleep in his own bed? When he came back, he had a warm washcloth and he used it to wipe between your legs. Hot water will never be taken for granted in this world.

The two of you then snuggled up together, the situation being better left unsaid. You knew that you both had to start preparing for the morning, so instead of talking, you just shut your eyes and tried to enjoy his strong arms around you.

—-----------------

You heard a faint knock at the door and almost forgot where you were for a moment. When you felt Joel’s arms around you, his lips pressing against your cheek, you woke up with the biggest smile you’d had in a very long time.

“Good morning, you two.” Ellie shouts throughout the door. “Knock knock. Megan’s making breakfast, wake your asses up, lovebirds!”

“Don’t–don’t come in here Ellie.” Joel tries to exclaim, sleep in his voice.

“I’m fucking good, man. I’m gonna help Megan with breakfast.” You hear her footsteps as she leaves the hallway and you turn to him.

He was still there. And suddenly you were reminded of each and every time he’d stayed over, Megan making everyone breakfast as you’d talk and laugh through the previous night.

This morning was no different. It felt oddly comfortable, the four of you enjoying each other’s company even though you knew it had to end. You’d spent the rest of the morning gathering supplies but then it was time to grab your backpack out of the bedroom.

Joel was sitting on the edge of the bed. It reminded you of how things were the previous day, where he couldn’t look you in the eye. He was riddled with discomfort. In this world, you’re so used to not even having to say goodbye. That’s honestly not as painful as having to do it.

You walk up to him, giving him a long hug.

“Joel, if it’s true what you told me – if she’s immune – this is huge. It might give the world another chance. It might give us another chance.” You say to him.

“You still have so much hope for the world. That's why I will always love you.” Joel whispers. You feel your heart crack. You feel the toolbox in your chest start to rattle.

You know you shouldn’t say it. You know you’d be an idiot to say something so vulnerable and stupid in this world. But if you don’t say it, what else do you have?

“I love you too, Joel. Take care of yourself, okay? Take care of Ellie. If you ever find yourself at the Philadelphia QZ you know where to find me.” You say to him.

He presses his lips against you softly. As if to savor every moment, every feeling. Every curve and swell of your lip. He grabs at the back of your neck and you mimic him, grabbing the back of his. As if pushing further into the kiss could bring you back to those hot Austin nights.

Because you knew this was the last time you’d get a good taste of home.

You walk him out towards the car, Ellie already next to the passenger seat bouncing up and down because she had never ridden in a car before. You and Megan send them both off, his reflection in the rearview mirror never leaving your sight until the truck becomes a small blur.

“You gonna be okay?” Megan asks you, with that same look of worry she had given you the night before.

You’re not sure if you will be, but you have to forge ahead as you always do. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” You state. And the two of you get ready to go, heading into the car back to the QZ.

“Talk about a blast from the fuckin’ past.” Megan says, starting the car. “It’s funny…I had actually heard about Nick – y'know the one that was in the Fireflies– talking about somewhere in Jackson. Small fuckin’ world.”

You lean your head up against the car window. Your thoughts immediately go back to last night.

Small fuckin’ world indeed.

3K notes · View notes

dancingwithreality · 10 months

Text

romeo and juliet t.w.

gif not mine!

pairing: toto wolff x verstappen!sister

word count: 3.1k

summary: red bulls golden girl has been in a long term secret relationship with the team principal of mercedes, and it gets harder to keep the secret.

warnings: implied sexual content, jos verstappen 🤢, fluff, light steam but no smut

a/n: yes she’s a little child prodigy, but it works better for the plot. if this gets love 'n y'all really want more i'll do a second part maybe :)

please don’t take my work! enjoy and interact :)

JOS VERSTAPPEN was not a nice man, and an even worse father. He was demanding and mean, pushing his driving legacy onto his children. Well, onto Max. When his first child was a girl Jos was not happy. He didn’t think a girl could uphold such a prestige, so he never tried hard. You gave your all to impress your father but it was never enough for him. Then a few years later, he got Max, and when Max was of age he immediately started karting. You were quickly pushed to the back of his mind.

Through the years, even though you did better than Max, he still never cared about you as much as he did Max. Which is definitely saying something. You made your career as the youngest female driver to ever get second in the F2 Championship at 16 years old. At the last race, when you solidified your position as second in the WDC, you will always remember how your 12 year old baby brother went running up to you, pride swelling in his eyes.

He kept chanting your praises and hugged you tightly around your waist. Tears were brought to your eyes and you hugged him back. You took Max up to the podium with you and celebrated with the whole world watching. Except, Jos. His arms were crossed as he barely spared you a glance. That was the last time your heart broke because of him. You swore to yourself, you’d be there for Max how your father never was, and you’d stop relying on him to validate you.

Your success put you on the radar for many teams. The one you went with, was Red Bull. You joined their academy and were their first female reserve. There you met Daniel and became quick friends. Years later, when Max joined Toro Rosso you’d been driving for Red Bull for years already. You were the one that pushed for Max to be your reserve the following year, and everything fell into place.

Now you were 28. You had four consecutive vice championships under your wing and were driving alongside your two-consecutive championship winning brother. Everyone called you the ‘Wonder Twins’ and your family legacy had never burned brighter.

You were having a relaxing dinner with your brother and best friend, reminiscing on your life and how lucky you were. While Daniel and Max took over most of the conversation and were laughing the entire time, you memorized this night to remember it forever. Unbeknownst to Max, your boyfriend of four years was sitting further back in the restaurant having his own night. Glances were being passed back and forth between you to as your relationship was still a secret.

•••

It was 2018, after the Singapore race. The whole grid was out at some club and even some principals and team members joined you.

You and Danny were having the best time dancing and drinking, when you felt someone’s eyes on you. Finding the source gave you a shock and surprise to see Toto staring at you. When your eyes met, he sent a wink your way that made you blush and look back at Daniel. Hurriedly you whispered to him what had happened and the Aussie was at a loss for words. He knew of your little crush on the Austrian often teased you about it, but he never thought the crush would be reciprocated. Nonetheless he matched your excitement and decided you would do something about it.

Danny fluffed up your hair, and your ego, while encouraging you to go talk to him. ‘Open, lemme see your teeth,’ Daniel made a face at you telling you to do the same. You did and he confirmed that nothing was there. ‘Right, go at ‘em!’ He started to push you towards the bar.

‘What am i supposed to say!’ You started panicking while trying to look calm.

‘Turn up that Dutch charm or something! You’ve got this,’ Daniel winked and sent you on your way with a gentle pat on the back.

You were skeptical that Toto would even follow you to the bar. But he did. And somewhere in the night, small talk and glances turned into light touches and smiles. Which turned to laughs and close proximity, which led you going back to the hotel room with him for more privacy and a nightcap. The night was one to really remember as it started what you could only describe as the best thing to happen to you. The morning after wasn’t a walk of shame, no, your held was high and you were filled with joy and you stumbled all the way back to your room, eager to tell Danny all the details.

•••

You were brought back to reality as Daniel kicked you under the table and cleared his throat. Your face burned from how long you kept eye contact from across the room, while your brother sitting a foot away. ‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you laughed and took a sip of your wine.

'You spend too much of your time with us,' Max sighed and looked at Daniel for his agreement.

‘Max,’ you chuckled, ‘You guys are my best friends, and you’re also my brother, why wouldn’t I spend time with you?’ You asked.

‘I’m just saying, you’re with us all the time. And when you’re not you’re always in your room or by yourself,’ Max stated like it was fact. Daniel let out a quick laugh at the idea of you always being ‘alone’ when he knew where you really were.

This time you kicked him, ‘And what’s wrong with that?’

‘Darling we can’t be your only friends,’ Daniel teased. You shot him a deadpanned look and pretended to laugh.

‘I’m serious!’ Max looked almost offended that you and Daniel weren’t taking it as seriously as he was. Both of you immediately turned to him and looked concerned. ‘Daniel has Heidi, I have Kelly, you’re not getting any younger and you don’t have anyone.’

Your mouth was agape, did he just call you old? Daniel couldn’t hold his laughter in anymore and in classic honey badger style, he bursted out and was laughing so hard he couldn’t breath.

‘Max, I can assure you, you don’t have to worry about me.’ You tried to calm this conversation and put it to an end.

Much to your chagrin it didn’t really end. Max went on for a little while longer and you couldn’t have wished to not be there any more. When he finally got up to go to the bathroom, you slumped down in your chair.

Daniel was trying to get his breath back and was drinking his water. 'What was that? Max never cared about my love life!' You pinched your nose bridge and put your head down on the table.

'Why don't you just tell him? It's been four years, I don't think its too fresh anymore.'

'Oh yeah like it's that easy, 'Oh hey Max! I've been dating the Team Principal of Mercedes for years now, i just never told you!' You pretended to smile and used the fakest high pitched voice you had.

'You sarcastic little girl, it's not that big a deal. If you love each other, what's the big deal?'

'Okay don't call me a little girl you're like a few years older than me. Ugh, I miss the days when we had a PR relationship for publicity. No one asked me about my love life back then,' You groaned and took an even larger sip of your wine, the cup almost empty now.

'Just eat your food and stop sulking. You're secretly dating tall, dark, handsome, and hunky, like your life is so hard. Poor Romeo and Juliet.’ Daniel cut a piece off his steak and went back to eating. 'You're leading the championship and getting dicked down-‘

'Daniel!'

•••

You were all at Silverstone now. You just finished qualifying and the feelings were mixed. Max had unfortunately not done as well, but 6th wasn’t horrible. He was sure to make it up.

You were on your way back to your hotel when you got a message from Toto. Unfortunately for him, Lewis and George struggled a little more than they’d prefer. Toto had asked the front desk for an extra key to his room and had given it you prior. He wanted a bit of comfort tonight. He already let out his anger in the garage earlier, he would need another headset for tomorrow, and he wanted you to spend the night. you told him you’d be right over as soon as you were ready.

So a shower and an outfit change later, you were running over to his room and sliding the room key in as quick as you could. You always had to make sure no one saw when either of you went to the others room, so you’d gotten fairly good at it over the years.

As soon as you closed and locked the door, behind you came a pair of arms what wrapped themselves quickly around your waist. ‘Oh, meine liebe,’ the arms sighed in the crook of your neck.

‘Hello my darling,’ you leaned backwards onto the strong chest of your boyfriend and rested one hand around his neck, where his head was pressing kisses on yours. ‘How are you?’

He spun you around in his arms so he could rest his forehead on top your head. ‘Qualifying was piss poor, it seems we can’t get out of 7th and 8th.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, Alonso hasn’t been doing too well these last races. If Lewis manages to move even a few places the gap will tightens between them.’ You rubbed your hands up and down his back, trying yo offer some comforting words.

‘How can you be so impartial?’ He pressed a long kiss to your lips. ‘We’re from rival teams, shouldn’t you pray for our downfall?’ he kissed you again.

This time when he started to pull away you went to your tippy toes chasing after him, ‘We can both succeed without hurting the other.’ One of your hands was behind his neck, the other in his hair. ‘Well, so long as I’m winning.’ Each time he kissed you grew more passionate and desperate than the last. Neither of you had even realized that you’d walked backwards onto the bed until Toto’s legs hit the frame and you both fell.

After his back hit the mattress and you braces yourself on his chest you both erupted into laughter. You laid with your head and arms in his chest as he put one behind his head so he could see you properly. ‘It’s only a good race if you win darling,’ the look in his eyes was so intense you could feel your whole body get hotter.

Your ears grew red as you two kept the silence and just, stared. ‘I love you,’ you softly said.

‘I love you,’ his thick accented voice soothed your heart and made it swell four times the size.

‘I wish we didn’t have to keep everything so secret,’ you uttered in a sort of defeated tone.

‘Meine liebe, I’d get all those silly little social media apps just to tell the whole world about us if you asked.’ He sat up, and pulled you with him into an upright position. You were straddling his lap, arms around his waist, as he pulled you in for a deep kiss, all in an effort to emphasize his love for you.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t like it when he held you like you weighed nothing. At eye level with him now, you couldn’t hold back anymore and jumped at his face. You kissed him so quickly and deeply you could’ve sworn he gasped. You nibbled on his lip and he let out a groan that you immediately swallowed, the sound only sending you into hyperdrive. Your intensity fueled him and you both became hungry for each other. Hands roaming and bodies moving in sync with each other.

His hands gripped your thighs and you tightened your legs around his waist. Once again, like you weight nothing, he took advantage of your tightening around him and lifted you up so he could further up the bed. Not once did you disconnect from each other as the night began to escalate.

He laid you down on your back and hovered over you, only a mere few inches from laying on you. Lips swollen and eyes dilated in lust you uttered ‘I love yours’ once more before connecting your lips for what feels like the tenth time that night.

All you were was a mess of sweaty skin, hushed breaths and some of the most explicit sounds that would make anyone blush. Nights like these, we’re you were able to care for each other and pretend the world outside didn’t exist were your favorite. Nights where you two could just be in love, not Mercedes Team Principal and Red Bulls Golden Girl.

Nights like these where you were Romeo and Juliet, fighting against your families and becoming your own.

•••

It was the last lap of Silverstone and adrenaline was running high. Your father had shown up to this race which already put you in a sour mood, you just wanted him to leave. You had Lando pushing behind you, granted the gap was 11.63 seconds but you wanted it to stay that way. Your only goal now was to get fastest lap to really tie it in. All these years later and you were still desperate for your father to see how good you were. See how you did it all by yourself.

You knew that behind Lando was Max, and even though you would always wish the best for the papaya boy, you knew that if max couldn’t overtake Jos would not be happy. His permanently disappoint disposition still hurt Max and it hurt you to see it.

Tension was running high as the race was coming to a close. There wasn’t a sound you could hear besides your own heart and you crossed the finish line. Lando followed behind and Max just .01 of a second behind him. It was close, and you were just so happy for both of them that you didn’t care if your brother didn’t overtake him.

When the final lap was over and you parked your car, the first thing you did was take off your helmet and look at the crowds. Amongst the cheering crowds, McLaren going wild and Red Bull screaming at the top of their lungs you watched as your brother pulled into the third spot and got out. Max made eye contact with your father and you could watch his heart break. Although he had preformed so well Jos was never pleased.

This ignited something in your veins. You watched him cross his arms and stand silently in the crow of cheering Red Bulls, the cameras showing off the orange army going insane in the bleachers. Yet somehow, the happiness couldn’t rub off on him.

You were tired of him.

You couldn’t take a single second of his attitude anymore.

So with all your courage and fire, you arm over to where Mercedes had piled off to the side. Your pushing through the crowds caught the cameras attention and all eyes were on you.

There in that second there was only one thought in your head. One idea: and you were going to follow through. You always do. You found Toto looking around shocked and confused as to why you were right in front of him. And in that second, you kissed him.

You brought both of your hands up to cup his face and you smashed your lips against his. As if the world melted around you his hands found your hips and the two of you were pushing so hard into each other, it was hard to tell where you ended and he started.

Just like the night before, you were one. You weren’t Mercedes v. Red Bull. You were boy and girl, hopelessly in love.

The crowd and gone silent.

You two pulled away ever so slightly, foreheads rested against the others as Toto supported your weight so you didn’t have to strain your feet too much to reach him. Despite just hard launching your relationship without any kind of talking about it before hand, the two lovers embraced each other.

‘The world knows now,’ he whispered in your ear.

‘Let them.’ You smiled as you hugged him tighter. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you.’ he whispered back.

Cheers and whoops erupted around you. Despite the initial shock of your relationship people were just happy. It was a good race with an even better surprise at the end, how could they complain?

The two of you pulled apart and smiled at each other, the world so unused to swing Toto so domestic and soft. You have him one more hot kiss before walking back to do the post race interview and award ceremony.

‘I guess she isn’t so alone, huh..’ Max looked star struck as Daniel laughed and patted him on the back.

You walked back and Jos was furious at your vulgar and inappropriate display. You’d never seen him so mad. It made you audibly laugh.

You put your Rub Bull cap on and walked right up to David Coulthard and smiled, waiting to start the questions.

‘Well that was something,’ He laughs in a slightly awkward manor. ‘Can I assume there’s something going on between you two?’

‘We’ve been dating for a while, I love him.’ You never smiled brighter.

‘A congratulations is in order then, for the race and for your love!’ He barked out in laughter as you thanked him and giggled.

Your eyes never left Toto, even as the anthems played and the trophies were handed out. Even as you sprayed each other with champagne and celebrated. Neither of you looked away. The smiles so evident on your faces and that in love glow never left. At that moment, neither of you cared about the repercussions that would follow. The PR mess and the scolding from Christian. It was just you two, in love.

The love you shared didn’t have to be bottled anymore. You two didn’t have to hide anymore, you could be together freely and honestly. That was all you wanted in life. To be with your love, in love, with no secrets or shame. You loved each other and that was all that mattered.

fin.

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 #reader insert #max verstappen #red bull f1 #daniel ricciardo #my fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fiction #f1 x oc #f1 x female driver #f1 x female reader #mercedes amg f1 #red bull racing

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elecman108 · 2 years

Photo

It’s that time of the year again - anime boobie time!!

In all seriousness, it’s Pride Month! This is the hostile reminder that my Tumblr is actively hostile towards anyone who does not support LGBTQ+ folks. Transphobia, Homophobia, Biphobia, and all that can fuck RIGHT off.

I have claimed 3 seperate flags of the LGBTQ+ for myself! If y’all don’t behave I’ll claim another one! Fight me! I have over 100 OCs I’m drawing quick references for right now and so far only one of them isn’t anywhere in the LGBTQ+ arena! I will kick your ass!

(Fun fact: one of the boobies here is genderqueer. Have fun trying to figure out which one!)

#the disappointment speaks #drawings by me #OCs #yes I drew Axel in a tank top and Cecillia in a bra I am insatiable #happy pride #<3 to all y'all lgbtq folks I meet on the streets of the online space. love y'all so much #god that was typed out poorly lmao the sentiment is there though #I also saw the pokemon scarlet/violet trailer earlier and lets just say I am continuing with my love for purple #which you wouldnt realize given my sona is red/black themed but hey #purple is a good colour and I love it #also purple and black didnt look right on my sona so I took red instead fhdgfjsdhfgjshg #I still have my sona talk in purple though. that remains standard.

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strawberryblue-blog · 4 months

Text

She's mine too —Mason Mount.

summary: annoying days of pregnancy with mason

warning: none. pregnancy, vomiting, discomfort.

words count: +1.5k

#SEXYNOTE: Merry belated Christmas and early happy new year y'all 💌 thanks for the support, i hope you are well. love youuuu 🩵

You hugged the toilet after spitting up all the dinner of the night between sobs, you sighed taking a big breath of air, feeling your stomach churning again. It was the fifth time you had gotten up to vomit in the night and you were really exhausted. For at least a week you had been feeling this way but in the last two days, it had gotten worse and you couldn't even feed yourself properly as you ended up vomiting.

Did your son or daughter hate you? It was practically thanks to you that he or she was coming into this world, and this is how he or she thanked you? By making you spit out everything you ate? By making you feel so fragile and silly at the same time? You wanted to stay cheerful, positive and full of energy but your baby was slowly consuming you. This was nothing like what you used to hear about pregnancies.

You had never been through anything before and it really scared you. The doctor had said it was normal as long as you had constant checkups and you just had to put up with it, even though it was very hard for you and especially for Mason. Sometimes he felt that what he was doing for you wasn't enough and he hated to see you suffer but it wasn't his fault and it would pass. You sighed whimpering a little, anyone would say you were exaggerating a little (and maybe you were) but you were really suffering. Since four months ago your body had changed, your fears had become constant, dizziness, mood swings, tiredness, breast pain, you had even become irritable. Sometimes you felt guilty but it was inevitable, the baby was running your life (Not really).

But you had no regrets.

Being a mother had been one of your dreams growing up, you used to say you wanted to be like your mother and you really hoped you would be for this child. You were discovering this whole new world and you have to admit you thought it would be something else, at least you had a great man by your side. Mason used to make your endless days, the best experience of your life. He would massage your feet, fulfill your every whim, pamper you and take care of you like you were a princess.

You couldn't complain, you were perfect together and starting a family with him was another one of your biggest dreams. Because you loved everything about him, about the relationship, the respect and love you had. Because you admired how strong and respectable he was and how he behaved with you, your family and friends. Because you were in love with him and that your son had him for a father, it was the biggest pride you could feel.

A hand on your back caressed you, pulling your hair back into a makeshift bun. Mason held your hair and calmed your nerves as he appeared behind you. You hated waking him up in the middle of the night with your retching, especially since you knew he'd have to get up early in the morning but Mason was always with you.

"Don't tease me like that" you laughed exhaustedly after a while. "That's the reason i'm here, puking up everything i ingest."

Mason hid a chuckle behind his smile, trying not to laugh at your funny comment because of the situation you were going through. But it was inevitable, even in misery you were saying funny things to him.

"You suggested doing it, honey. If you had stuck it out, we wouldn't be here," he replied, earning a pout from you.

And it was true. Maybe if they hadn't had too many drinks that night and you hadn't been so horny, nothing would have changed and you wouldn't have found yourself right now. But you wanted this as much as he did, because you were talking about this and about the future, and this was the future, you becoming parents.

After a while without nausea, Mason took you in his arms, slowly carrying you toward the bed. He handed you a glass of water and when you drank some, he helped you lie down on the soft sheets, arranging the pillows on your back to make you comfortable.

"I must look terrible" you whispered a little shaken. Your cheeks were red, your forehead sweaty and you sure looked gross right now. Mason quickly denied.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world" he murmured with his eyes sparkling. "You'll bring our child, you could never look terrible" his fingers caressed your face. A smile appeared on your lips as he kissed your forehead softly.

He took his place beside you, resting his head on your belly as he wrapped his arms around you. One of his hands caressed the protruding bump, which was growing bigger and bigger every day. You didn't know the sex of the baby yet but everything was within the norm for a pregnancy, something you were grateful for, and they were supposed to have news about the baby by the next visit.

"Baby, leave mommy alone for a while, okay? She's mine too" he whispered towards her son or daughter, drawing a smile from you. Your fingers tangled in her hair, stroking her chestnut locks. Your chest overflowed with feelings seeing him there and your heart filled with happiness at the image.

Mason on top of his baby, caressing your skin with his warm fingers, his eyes shining in his wonderful gaze. The reason for your happiness in front of you, your whole world. Your eyes filled with tears and you try not to cry but you were sensitive, everything hit you double, more when it was about your son and your boyfriend.

You were both terrified, you weren't going to lie, but since the test had come back positive and after a few months of waiting, you were ready for what was to come. You had learned to love each other, you had each other, you trusted each other and you were walking on the same side. Everything had been easier, since you knew Mason, you were always supporting and loving each other.

"The boys want it to be a boy to teach him to play football but honestly i want it to be a girl" Mason whispered turning back to your chest, still her hand held on the baby, caressing it.

"Is that what you want?" you asked with a giggle. Mason nodded. "Even Summer would take care of her and teach her" you mentioned and your heart fluttered with love as you imagined your boyfriend's niece with your daughter or son.

Mason smiled hugely.

"I want a boy too, of course. But we'll have time to bring him along after the baby girl" he joked with a grimace. You laughed out loud.

You were excited for the arrival of their son or daughter, they were counting the days since they had found out and memories were piling up in their memories of this special time. The wait was going to be hard but it would definitely be worth it when you had him or her with you.

#football imagines #football one shot #imagine #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount #manchester united

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hippielittlemetalhead · 4 months

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So... I lied about getting a full fix-it to This → Part 1. Y'all get parts focusing on different characters for now as Hop traverses his guilt trip. I won't say it gets worse before it gets better but... kinda in places? I promise it's a happy ending though!!

What do you want from me I'm stressed and depressed and I like making my blorbos suffer (a.k.a projecting my trauma instead of doing the healthy shit my shrink tells me to)

You've been warned... But I do hope you like it.

So here we have Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)

He goes to Joyce about it first. Thinks about her gentle herding of the trio that has become the Hopper-Byers brood. Thinks about how she put everything he was feeling about Mike and El and their giggling and the fucking door into words that kept him from looking like an imbecile (if he'd have ever used them instead of fucking it up 'winging it'). Thinks about the way her voice stays soft and kind of quiet even when she's spitting in his face about listening to her (and every time she's been right) and how that's translated to talking down government goons and wrangling the army of children that seems to get bigger each time they have to fight interdimensional terrors. So he goes to Joyce about what Murray said, the noise Steve made with That Look in his eyes and his bandages peeking out from under a shirt that looks like one of the Henleys he's been missing since coming 'back from the dead' and they dug out his clothes from storage. (El wouldn't let her throw anything out, not until she was ready to say goodbye. Thank whatever god[s] there may be she never needed to)

He doesn't expect Joyce to make a face like he suggested inviting Owens to family dinner. He doesn't expect the scoff and eye roll as her shoulders tense and her hands flex at her sides like she's about to let loose her (honestly really attractive) righteous fury. About the Harrington kid.

Maybe he should have asked when the kids weren't home. Before El quietly told them the bullying wasn't as bad as it was in California but some people still made fun of how she spoke and how all of her friends were boys (and just as quietly asked they not do anything. Asked that they let her and The Party handle it until they couldn't). Before Will came home sulking about something idiotic Mike said or did or something the kid missed (though lately the latest Wheeler mistake is followed by bashful mention of the Emerson kid doing something specifically to make Will feel better in the moment). Before Jonathan came home from 'job hunting' or 'volunteering at the school's relief center' reeking of weed and his long-haired friend in tow (less than usual but still enough to make Joyce feel guilty for missing it for so long, for making the boy grow up so fast that he spends his days out of his mind instead of the weekend bender like when they were kids). Before The Party had come by with what homework the school was still giving out and talking over each other about all the latest small-town gossip a teenager can get their hands on (Eddie's name has been cleared but he's still laid up at the hospital. Susan Mayfield has been noticeably absent according to every nosy housewife in Hawkins considering her daughter is in a coma. The Hagans, Carvers, Perkins and a handful of other 'well to do' families have skipped town taking most of the sports population with them. Steve has been letting people displaced by the damage crash at the Harrington mansion. Steve has kept up hours at Family Video somehow and is a regular volunteer at the various relief centers in town. Steve has been giving all of them rides and may have told Dustin he's thinking of trading in the Beemer for a bigger vehicle for all the kids and people he chauffeurs about. Steve keeps a room empty and waiting for when Max wakes up before her mother makes an appearance. Steve. Steve. Steve.)

He doesn't expect the way she spits his name like she's talking about Dick and Margaret under the bleachers over a smoke before the yard teacher catches them. The rant about bullies and broken cameras and trashed kitchens and dead monsters in her fridge. The crack in her voice when she crosses her arms to stop their shaking as she lays sin upon sin at this boy's feet.

And maybe before that would have been enough.

He doesn't expect the stone in his stomach or the burning in his chest as he looks the woman he loves in the eye and says "So I guess we should tell Nancy to break up with Jonathan before he pulls a Lonnie, huh?" It's a low blow. He knows from the hurt anger on her face and on the purse of her lips. He knows that's why he said it. "That kid is lucky to be alive let alone walking and have we ever even thanked him for keeping the fucking kids alive each time they pull their dumb shit when the world goes to hell? Does that sound like anything his folks would have ever done for us? Hell for their own fucking kid they practically signed over to ME of all people?"

He's shaking now too and Joyce has her hands fluttering between them like she wants to reach out. To touch, comfort. Pull him close and tell him to take a breath.

"He called me 'His Hop', Joyce" He barely has enough breath on him to squeeze the words past his tight throat. "Called me His Hop and watched Ellie and the kids when I just couldn't and you were at work. I don't think I've seen his folks in town since the mall was opened and all the donors had that big party. Don't think I've spoken to them since '83 and they made me the kid's guardian when they aren't around cause they didn't want to fly down for a government sized concussion."

By now he knows El and Will are peeking around the corner, their eyes wide and worried. Jonathan has his door cracked and Angus (is that the hippie's name? He can't remember) is whispering something about heavy auras. Joyce is staring somewhere off in the distance, wringing her hands and biting her lips like she's facing an interdimensional portal shaped problem.

"The kids are planning to have one of their games in a few days." Her voice is brittle in a way he's not used to anymore. Not since she pulled her youngest out of hell and faced down a demon clawing through her walls. "He always drives them over and- and disappears until they need to head home. I can make sure he stays for dinner. Like the rest of the kids. I know Claudia has been having him over so I- I can get some recipes from her that he likes."

Something in his shoulders shakes loose and he reaches out to pull her practically shaking from into his chest.

"I don't know what to say to him Hop. He's not Mike and he's not like either of my boys. In my head he's just always been..."

"Dick and Margaret's brat." He sighs out and rests his cheek on the top of her head as she nods and presses herself in closer.

He's aware of eyes on them. Confused and worried and judgemental and he'll pay that piper next. These kids taught him how to be a dad again once, they can do it again, right?

Part 3

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth

If I missed you in the tag list I'm sorry I tried 🙃🫡 Tell me what you think? 🫣🥲

#nttttf verse #Never Took The Time (To Forget)#yeah the ramblings of a madperson #rambler writes #hopper adopts steve #but make it sad #not fic #i need sleep #stranger things thoughts #hopper pov #hopper byers family #I swear I love Joyce #I just need her to realize she canonically dislikes Steve for VERY stupid reasons #jopper #fic writing #fic wip #stranger things wip

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 6 days

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it wasn't me [t.rodman x reader]

prompt: trinity refuses admit to stealing your clothes

author notes: the word for this mini fic is "steal" obviously. i swear this is the most trinity coded fic i have written for her. i'm knocking out a request for more trin fics and helping myself write more, killing two birds with one stone. hope y'all like it 💞

trinity has a problem. actually the right word would be an addiction. she can't stop herself from stealing your clothes. the mix of your perfume and body wash you use rubs off on your clothes, making her heart all happy so can you really blame her? it was a cute habit except for when you needed to actually wear your clothes and half of your closet was gone. still you never stop her, so trinity happily indulges in her you-based addiction.

the only downside of this is the fact trinity does not like admitting it. even if everyone obviously knows it. this isn't even due to a pride thing, the american player just doesn't like to admit it. in her mind technically your clothes are her clothes so is it really stealing?

"baby! have you seen my mickey mouse pajama pants? it's going to be a little chilly and i wanna wear them," you shout out as you look through the closet in your bedroom. trinity comes into the room when she responds, "nope. haven't seen it, babes." she leans against the door frame, watching you look through your closet.

unlike you, trinity was already dressed. it was around ten am and practice started at twelve pm, so you forced her to get up eight to get ready. she groaned the entire time and demanded kisses after she did every part of her routine. you happily obligated every time.

"ugh.." you let out a groan. just deciding to give up on your idea of being extra comfy in your pajama pants and instead grabbing some black sweatpants. at least it matches your white graphic tee and the grey jacket you planned to wear out. you turn, dropping the sweatpants on your bed before coming over to trinity. "are you sure you haven't seen them?" you mumble into her chest after hugging her. trinity straightens up to hug you back properly. swaying a bit as she rests her face against the top of her head.

"nope. i don't even remember you having a pair of mickey mouse pajama pants. maybe you just made that up"

"wow, am i being gaslight right now?" you joke making her laugh loudly. the hug goes on for a long moment before you pull away. "gotta slip on these pants so we can go. i want to stop by that brunch place you like to get breakfast," you move away from the door and go to stand next to your bed.

"what? the spirit cafeteria breakfast food isn't good enough for you anymore?" trinity leans back against the doorframe. a badly hidden smirk on her lips as she watches you near your bed.

"don't you know? when someone gets famous they have higher standards. it comes with the fame," you put on a fake sad tone when saying the last sentence. trinity snorts, rolling her eyes. "oh god, where has my humble girlfriend gone?" she says.

"she's dead," you shrug before glancing at the clock sitting on one of your nightstands, "alright. get out so i can change."

"i can't watch my own girlfriend?"

"sorry, no. that choice expired after the last time we didn't go anywhere," you give her a fake pout before making a shoing gesture. the american player lets out a long groan before moving away from your room. going off into the kitchen to eat up half of your snacks.

it doesn't take long for you to get fully ready. having to also do your hair and find your training kit which somehow ended up in the guest bedroom. trinity and you leave out of the house at 10:40. with you carrying both of y'all bags since trinity claimed her arms hurt. you throw the bags into the back seat before getting into the driver's seat. trinity was already in the passenger seat before you put the bags away. you get ready to drive off, but is stopped by trinity saying, "wait!"

"what?" you look over at her, a confused expression on your face. the american player just smiles, "i have to go grab something. i forgot."

you just shrug when she gets out of the car. five minutes after going into the house, trinity comes back out. the shock on your face can't even be described as you watch trinity walk out of the house in your mickey mouse pajama pants. the one that she specifically said she didn't even knew you had.

trinity gets into the car just like before. snapping in her seat belt before looking over at you, "alright. let's go! i'm still starvinggg."

you give her a blank stare. thinking that would be enough for her to realize the current irony going on, but nope, trinity just looks away from you. focusing on connecting her playlist to the aux. "you know ashley texted me yesterday and she's actually getting along well in north carolina. i never thought i would hear her say that, weird," trinity's face scrunches up in slight disgust before shrugging.

"baby.."

"what?"

"why do you have on my pajama pants? i was looking for those!" you say as you pull out of the driveway. the american player side eyes you before looking out of the window instead of directly at you.

"i don't know what you're talking about," after saying this trinity tries to change the subject, but you aren't letting up. you keep reminding her of the earlier conversation you two had, but trinity denies that it even happens.

you drop the topic at brunch. enjoying the moments of eating nicely made bacon and pancakes while trinity gossips her head off. you try to bring it back up when y'all get back in the car to drive to practice, but trinity still doesn't let up so you drop it.

practice goes by smoothly with trinity annoying you every five minutes. you two go back to your place afterwards and slow down for the rest of the day. it's around ten pm when you bring the topic back up; and it wasn't even your fault.

trinity is in the shower while you're scrolling on twitter. mostly seeing fan tweets and bad jokes when a post about trinity catches your eye. on the tweet is the photo the washington spirit posted on instagram of trin's pre-practice outfit. she's waving in the photo while walking, with you trailing closely behind her. the tweet says the way the pants don't even reach trin's ankles. we all know who pants those are 😭

you immediately send that to trinity's phone. ready to start up the conversation once again after your thoughts were affirmed by some stranger on twitter; thank you to that fan.

#trinity rodman x reader #trinity rodman #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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belphegorbillickin · 1 year

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Obey Me! Love Languages (+Side Characters)

(CW!): Yandere-ish behavior in the Levi, Diavolo, and Belphie sections. Diavolo is the worst out of the three.

Lucifer:

Nothing makes Lucifer much happier than simply spending time alone together, especially in bed.

(He practically jumps you every Devilgram I swear.)

He's more than willing to keep chaste if that's what you prefer though. Lucifer cherishes any and all time you spend with him.

He prefers to go somewhere private with you, where he can let his guard down completely and tell you exactly how much he appreciates you, but he enjoys calmer, more "mature" dates as well.

You don't even have to talk to each other, simply spending time together makes his (shriveled, blackened) heart swell and tension ease.

Although if you'd like to completely remove his tension…

(Have I mentioned that this man is even more desperate than Mammon and Asmo combined? Give this ancient babygirl a hug and a back massage.)

You may or may not be as busy as he is, but he still sees you being willing to spend what little time you both have together as a big gesture.

It certainly is for him at least, as he's far too busy to entertain someone he doesn't truly care for.

It may sound odd coming from an effectively "ageless" being, but time is honestly his most limited resource.

Lucifer's too much of a perfectionist and control freak to let you do anything big, but he deeply appreciates anything you do to make his life easier.

Even something as small as bringing him breathtakingly bitter hell coffee or a pen he forgot brightens his day considerably.

Of course, being the Avatar of Pride, he's more than happy to receive any and all compliments you give him.

They're not exactly uncommon, but he feels they sound so much sweeter coming from your lips.

(Lips he would love to kiss if you'd just let him…)

You know you've made it when Lucifer allows you to see his vulnerable side and trusts you enough to ask for help with the more serious, complicated tasks.

Something no other human, demon, or angel, will likely ever have the privilege of experiencing.

Mammon:

It's canonically stated that whoever he loves is showered in riches, and I don't believe it's just from his latent power.

What better way for the avatar of greed to show he loves you than to be selfless and give you what's his?

Anything that reminds him of you is already in his hands before he can even think about it, paid for or not.

It can be something as simple as a pretty flower or a giant piece of furniture he thinks you'll look great relaxing in.

It's a shame it won't fit in your room, but that just means you'll have to come visit him in his more often. He totally didn't plan that though! (You know he did.)

He's also a huge showboat and always tries to go for the most extravagant options even if it doesn't actually add anything either of y'all would like.

Mammon was already pretty horrible at budgeting, but after becoming infatuated with you it's almost like he's actively trying to get into a ridiculous amount of debt with everyone.

It's only because he desperately wants to impress you and show how much you mean to him, by any and all means possible.

Of course Mammon would love to receive some gifts in turn, but I feel like, unless they were homemade or otherwise really special, he'd start to take it for granted and complain when it's not expensive enough.

It's not that he means to take advantage of you or doesn't appreciate it, but he is the Avatar of Greed after all, and you're feeding into it.

What really makes him feel loved is when you defend him publicly and happily turn down the others to spend more time with him.

He doesn't mean it in a nasty way unlike some demons, *cough* *cough* Levi & Belphie, but the way his brothers have treated him has worn on him a bit.

You know you've made it when Mammon finally feels secure enough to say he loves you with zero hesitation.

Alone, in front of his brothers, even in front of Simeon and Diavolo and the others. He'll scream it from the rooftops if you want him to.

Leviathan:

Leviathan is actually very generous. He's offered to buy things for his brothers and MC surprisingly often.

It makes sense in a way, as he doesn't really have to do much to maintain it. He can just drop the gift and run when he's nervous, rather than having to stay still while holding your hand or possibly tripping over his words and getting rejected when he tries to say something nice.

I bet he feels as though even if someone didn't like him they would at least like the gift, and then maybe they'll eventually like the source of all the gifts as well.

I could definitely see Levi trying to "buy" your love even if he doesn't realize it.

He's also very helpful when he wants to be, Satan even listed him as his most reliable brother.

It makes him feel good to do things for other people and again, he feels like maybe people will like what he does for them even if they don't like him the same way.

It's not as though he hates compliments and any other loving comments, but he's never really going to believe them until you've already "proven it" through your other actions.

If anything it has a very high chance of backfiring if that's your main way of showing affection, especially if you're a kind person in general.

Levi has got a nasty habit of twisting everyone's words against them and he's not gonna kick it anytime soon, regardless of any reassurance you give him.

His insecurities are far too deeply rooted and connected to his very existence as the Avatar of Envy to be soothed so easily.

Even gifts are a much better way into his heart, if you take the time to research his collection and support his hobbies that is.

Not only did you take the time to listen to what he says, but you spent all that time and effort tracking it down, waiting in line, or staying at the website refreshing repeatedly until you could buy it.

It shows him you're fully supportive and not embarrassed to be seen as a "weeb." That you won't pretend to not know him in public when he freaks out the latest Ruri-chan merch and proudly displays it on his person.

What really makes Leviathan believe you love him is getting jealous over him and turning down the others to be with him.

Especially if you made plans with them first and then ditched them for Levi when he threw a fit.

It's very mean-spirited, unlike Mammon who mostly wants reassurance. As Leviathan actually wants to feel them hurting, but again, he's a demon and The Avatar of Envy at that. Take the most jealous, unreasonable, and controlling person you know and multiple it by a thousand. That's what he has to deal with in his head 24/7, and though he does a very admirable job of keeping them as thoughts rather than actions, it's still a very heavy strain and things do slip out.

Levi will end up throwing a fit if you try to restrict his Ruri or TSL time out of jealousy, but any H-games and etc. are fair game so long as you promise to pick up the slack.

He'll even stop going to idol meet and greets for you, but it's only fair you start restricting your time with other people (including his brothers) in return, right? Right?

…Yeah, good luck handling that.

You know you've made it when Leviathan feels confident enough to regularly initiate physical contact and casually ask for your time and affection.

It's not that he doesn't like it, he's completely touch starved and has been fantasizing about initiating for a while, it's that he's completely sure he'll be rejected or mess it up somehow.

Or that it'll become overstimulating and he'll hurt your feelings by abruptly breaking it off when it suddenly becomes too much.

It means that you've brought his self-esteem up quite a bit, that Leviathan finally trusts that you won't suddenly make fun of him. That you actually like him for who he is and not in spite of it.

Satan:

Satan likes to show his love through gifts, acts of service, and the occasional sprinkle of affectionate words. Possibly even through poetry he wrote himself. He wants to show you that he's the superior choice. The reliable, practical, and in-the-know choice without being too stuffy and uptight, unlike some people. *cough* Lucifer *cough*

He also prides himself on his knowledge, and would be very eager to share said knowledge with you.

Feel free to ask him about any topic you want, chances are he at least knows a good book for it. If he somehow doesn't, then he'll gladly try to find one for you.

Just don't expect him to do your coursework or any other intellectual work for you. As much as Satan loves to be useful, he values self-sufficiency and growth even more.

He just can't understand wanting to cheat yourself out of a possible learning experience, and only wants the best for you.

What makes him feel loved is when you acknowledge his flaws but don't make excuses or demonize him for them.

When you don't push too hard for him to open up or spend all of his time with you, and instead set a schedule of sorts so the two of you always have at least some time together without it becoming too much.

He's not the biggest fan of physical contact though, as the circumstances of his "birth" meant that non-violent contact was rare until he finally calmed down and repaired the few relationships that he had. Truth be told, he also a bit afraid of hurting you. Satan's afraid that he'll instinctively lash out when you touch him suddenly, or that he'll hold on too tightly when he goes to touch you himself. You'd never know it now, the way he handles his centuries old books and week old kittens, but Satan is not gentle by nature. He won't shove you away or anything, but he will tense up and never initiate "pointless" physical contact even if he knows you love it until you let him approach it at his own pace.

You know you've made it when Satan finally opens up and doesn't avoid talking about his insecurities and weak points, or feel as though he's competing with Lucifer for your affection anymore.

When he feels free to act as he would like to instead of trying to compensate for his inexperience by imitating romance novels. When Satan doesn't feel as though he has to hide his purely demonic upbringing and everything that comes with it in fear of intimidating or scaring you off.

Asmodeus:

I feel like Asmodeus' love languages are pretty obvious, as in he absolutely adores all of them, as he's got so much affection to give and is plenty eager to receive.

He especially loves spoiling you and dressing you up. It's as much for his benefit as it is yours.

It's the same with all the pictures he takes of the two of you. He considers himself very generous indeed for sharing your beauty with the world instead of keeping it to himself, unlike some people.

Asmo will tell you as much himself, in fact, he never grows tired of describing your beauty in every possible way he could.

You can't go more than a day without him comparing at least one aspect of you to some beloved art piece or wonder of nature.

And of course, you can't forget the physical affection. Asmo lives for the chance to run his fingers along your skin and drape himself across you.

Platonically, romantically, sexually, it's all amazing to him.

He also finds testing out all sorts of creams and lotions on you incredibly intimate and relaxing, despite always preferring to be the one being pampered before.

You know you've made it when Asmodeus allows you to see him at his "ugliest," whether that be physically or emotionally, and trusts that you won't leave him for it.

When he feels like you would still be with him even if he never did anything sexual again.

It may or may not seem like that big of a deal to you, but Asmodeus is incredibly insecure deep down.

He can't help but feel like he'll never be as loved as he was back in heaven all those years ago, and certainly not for the same reasons.

What Asmodeus needs is someone who will prove that wrong, that sees him as something more than to look at and get off with.

Beelzebub:

"You didn't get me a snack? It's okay. I don't mind being stuck with you forever." (Slightly Used Handcuff Item - 2020 Valentine's Event)

Beelzebub makes it extremely obvious that what he wants more than anything is just to enjoy being by your side.

You don't have to do anything special or even talk, just showing that you're willing to spend time with him is proof enough of your love.

It's also how he shows affection. Like how even though he's not that interested in anime or video games, and Levi usually doesn't let him play (thanks to his messy eating and sticky hands,) Beel still goes into Levi's room surprisingly often.

Honestly, I'm not convinced part of it isn't at least partially from PTSD as well.

Beelzebub feels the need to stay by your side so that he can always be there to take the hit for you.

So that he can see you're still here with his own two eyes and not permanently gone the second he turns around.

What really makes him feel loved is when you look out for his emotional well-being and refuse to let him put himself last.

When you don't take his self-sacrificing ways for granted or come to expect them.

It doesn't matter how you show your appreciation, he's grateful for anything you give him, so long as you do it.

He is a bit insecure however. Both about his behavior and his appearance, as surprising as that may be to anyone who's seen him.

His demon form is associated with something most humans find disgusting after all. So he really appreciates any way you try to reassure him about it.

You know you've made it when Beelzebub is consistently willing to share his food with you.

Beelzebub arguably has the worst control over his sin and readily admits it. Belphie is the only other person he'd ever really share his own food with, and even then not all of it all the time.

But the ultimate test is when he's willing to go against Belphegor for you, even if it's just not immediately agreeing with everything he says.

Beelzebub feels very indebted to Belphie, no matter how many times he tells him it's fine Beel still feels like he has to do any and everything to make up for it.

So if he's willing to go against that, willing to risk upsetting Belphie, it means that you mean everything to him.

Belphegor:

Belphie's all about physical touch and quality time. Both in the sense of spending all of your time with him, and in the sense of not spending that time with anyone else, except Beel of course.

Not just cuddling in bed or taking naps together, but holding hands, letting him lean against you, and kissing are all things Belphie also really enjoys, and expects.

Despite getting embarrassed fairly easily by some of his brothers at times, it's almost impossible to ignore PDA when you lean into it like that, and he's desperate to stake his claim even in public. (Though his embarrassment quickly fades as he becomes more comfortable being vulnerable with you and his brothers again. His guarded, territorial behavior quickly turns into bragging and "tests of your loyalty" after that.)

Now, despite that he does expect you to respect when he wants his alone time, but Belphegor doesn't respect your boundaries all that well until you make him.

Not that he minds if you do try to force him to stop being as much of a spoiled brat though, he likes someone that can give as good as they can get so long as you do it with love.

He's another one that wants to watch you crush his brothers' hopes and dreams in favor of spending time with him. Not Beel though, never Beel.

Seriously, he likes to make out in public and actively fantasizes about his brothers getting jealous because of it in his devilgrams.

(He's also the most suggestive even after they started toning everything down. He gets implied sex and makes out several times a devilgram while other characters don't even get kisses at all sometimes.)

Belphegor is a Belphewhore when it comes to you. (Which is rather fitting, if you know anything about demonology.)

You know you've made it when this lazy cow gets up off his ass to do something for you, something usually only reserved for Beel.

Now, normally being compared to someone you're trying to date's twin brother would be a bad thing, but not in this case.

It just means the only one who will ever be equally important as his figurative other half is his twin, his literally magically and psychically connected other half.

The deepest form of trust is when he fully entrusts Beel's safety and happiness to you.

He may not seem as outwardly protective as his twin, but he is very much so, and he's become even more paranoid and codependent after being forcefully separated for so long.

Whereas Beel is more concerned with physical safety, Belphegor is more concerned with Beelzebub's mental state.

He knows his twin has a tendency to be self-sacrificing, full of guilt, and a bit too eager to take things at face value at times (despite being the emotionally intelligent out of all of them) for a demon. He also knows plenty of people would take advantage of that, intentionally or not.

Belphegor will act uncaring, but he's carefully monitoring your interactions with Beelzebub and paying attention to all of the shared feelings from their connection, intent on matching them up to see if you caused any of his poor moods.

Diavolo:

Lord Diavolo constantly puts himself into frustrating lose-lose situations.

He only really feels assured if you keep coming to him of your own free will, but he's so terrified of rejection and losing you that he rarely ever allows you to do just that.

He's always coming up with some brand new scheme or just outright forcing you to come to him, sometimes even physically, which only reinforces his bad habits and insecurities.

It doesn't matter how much you try to resist. Do you really believe you could do something to stop it when even several-thousand-year-old Lucifer and his strong-willed brothers can't? When even Barbatos couldn't? You'd need the power of God and anime on your side for even a small chance at that.

He'll literally pick you up or drag you if he has to, laughing all the while, refusing to take it seriously as you squirm even though he's really hurt deep down.

He tries to keep in mind that some people are "shy" and don't want to be dragged out all the time, but if you say, take the week in between his tiring plots to catch up on coursework and relax, he'll start to worry you're distancing yourself.

Diavolo's severe abandonment and boundary issues make it nearly impossible for you to challenge them without doing exactly what he wants, when he wants.

Who does he think he is, some kind of all-powerful demon lord or something?

Diavolo doesn't consider himself to be a big gift-giver, but he spoils those he appreciates regardless, and you receive his love on a completely different level.

He's just so used to opulence and never wanting for anything purchasable (easily or not) that he may overwhelm you with uncomfortably extravagant displays without even considering how the average human might react.

Want some chocolate? Diavolo will have Barbatos summon the most skilled chocolatiers immediately.

Can't find the perfect formal wear for yourself? He's calling in his personal tailors to make the most beautiful pieces of clothing you've ever seen in your life.

And yet despite all that it can still fall a bit flat at times.

Diavolo is the most flexible with this form of affection, but he can still be very inconsiderate in a sense.

He takes being told it's a bit too much surprisingly well, but he's fairly controlling about the gifts themselves.

You don't like the colors he picked? Too bad. It matches his own outfit and the color you want would match with the brothers instead and etc.

Sometimes it almost feels like the gifts are more for him than you, or that they come with hidden expectations rather than to make you happy.

Even though he really does want to make you happy, very much so in fact.

You know you've made it when Diavolo finally trusts you to come back to him on your own. Something that might take years and years of "absolutely perfect loyalty."

When he's not constantly sending you messages every time you're apart and doesn't try to force his way into every outing or private moment you have.

Quality time is still his main love language, giving and receiving, and he's still very aggressive in his attempts to spend time with you, but it's expressed in a (slightly) healthier way.

It does mean fighting against his very nature as a demon, even more so than he already does, but he's more than willing to try for you.

Barbatos:

Despite being quite powerful himself, people are often so used to taking advantage of him that they don't see him as much of a person compared to others.

He's rarely Barbatos and often "The Prince's Butler, who happens to be called Barbatos" instead.

Barbatos is targeted quite often by various groups of people, but few of them are after his attention specifically, instead of his power and connections.

He doesn't really allow himself to date in general. Besides not having the time for it, he's too worried about accidentally giving a spy or old Demon King loyalist an opening to cause trouble.

Whether that'd be because he's distracted or because he somehow ends up dating that kind of demon, Barbatos is rarely a risk taker when it comes to Diavolo's safety.

Even when he's liked it's usually for what he can do for other people, like Beelzebub wanting to keep him as his chef and Solomon eyeing his powers for example.

The only one who's really broke past that in the last couple of centuries has been Luke, who's come to be like an adopted son (or pet chihuahua) of sorts to him.

As much as the child loves to say he's using Barbatos, it's clear that the affection is mutual.

Now, a lowly human on the other hand? He'd worry about them being taken hostage or having loose lips, but otherwise they're fairly harmless. Barbatos has all the power in the relationship, just the way he likes it.

In a way, humans' short lifespans also helps to prepare Barbatos for the possibility of seeing your untimely death.

He knew what he was getting into, even if he's gotten far more attached to you than he ever intended to.

In a way, your presence eventually becomes synonymous with respite to him.

At first because of the physical aspect of entertaining you, but it slowly starts to be because of you specifically.

How sweetly you talk to him, really talk to him and not at him. The way you're so considerate in ways that even angels are not for a "mere butler."

Not much longer after that, it comes to be everything about you, even your smile becomes enough to make his day.

Besides being helpful, proving you're willing to "stoop down to his level" and "serve the servant" makes him much more willing to believe you're genuine.

In his (plentiful) experience, pretending to actually enjoy helping out in person is much harder to fake than anything else, especially for the snobbish nobles typically attempting to gain Lord Diavolo's favor.

Barbatos is another hardcore perfectionist who takes his work extremely seriously, who would rather die than let anyone else do it for him, especially since it would cause him to look as if he was "slacking." However, small things like drawing a bath for him, bringing him his favorite snacks, and giving him massages really helps him relax and feel loved.

He's also very fond of homemade gifts for similar reasons. The thought of someone going to all that effort for "just a butler" is very much appreciated.

Despite being such a perfectionist he'll accept the love put into almost anything you give him if it's made with care and free of the furry beasts he despises so strongly.

He'll have them all displayed properly in his room, in a way that will let them last longer, right next to everything Luke has made for him.

You know you've made it when Barbatos allows you to take care of him and ease his burdens.

When he'll allow you to wash his hair and pour tea for the both of you without stressing about how perfect it may or may not be.

Solomon:

Solomon's main love languages are gift giving and acts of service, and yes, you're gonna have to eat his cooking and you're gonna have to like it.

More seriously though, I'd argue it's quality time and acts of service, both giving and receiving.

He may have an excess of years left, for the understatement of the century, but he knows not everyone else does.

So Solomon really cherishes what little time you're willing to give him, especially if it means ignoring the demon brothers in favor of him. Asmodeus included. Solomon needs to know you're willing prioritize humanity, and him of course, before he can really begin to trust you and let you in.

He's also very fond of physical touch, he's close to Asmo for a reason after all, but that doesn't actually assure him your love is true regardless of how much he enjoys it.

You know you've made it when Solomon is fully willing to become attached and admit it to himself, regardless of any potential heartbreak he may suffer.

When he's ready to tell you so, to make concrete plans about the future with you, instead of for you, and commit to them fully.

But he also really does want to see you eating his cooking, that he infuses with all of his love just for you, every day.

Simeon:

Simeon is another tricky one, as he rarely allows people get close enough to see his more vulnerable side. Not even those that he was once brothers in arms with.

I believe one major indicator of Simeon being truly in love with you is when he's seeking out your touch.

When he's always brushing his fingers against your shoulders and grabbing your waist as he walks past, just to feel your skin.

Or even allowing you to come to bed with him, "just to cuddle, of course" he says, despite the major risks being that close poses for an angel already teetering on the edge. That's not to say that he doesn't express it through other means, like through the written word, but his playful brushes against you and sly smiles as he tells his white lies to get some alone time are something exclusive to your (not-so-secret) relationship.

He does however, always want to spend time with you. Even before he's ready to fully commit and be completely vulnerable around you.

You may or may not have that much time together after all, and he wants to spend as much of it as possible with you. Simeon also adores teasing the ones he loves, and that will most likely be the first bit of "personalized" affection he gives you. He just can't get enough of your embarrassed faces and mannerisms.

You know you've made it when Simeon is willing to trust you with all of his darkest thoughts and concerns.

When he can trust you won't judge him for his sins or try to guide him to any particular path.

When he's certain you'll stay true, and value and respect his guidance, no matter what form he's in or what he's done.

It's a common idea I know, but I got an ask for it literally years ago and I wanted to dump my reasons onto y'all anyway.

The draft date on AO3 said I started it in the middle of 2021, which should explain exactly why I feel bad about taking requests.

Also shameless self promotion, but I have a full Obey Me! rewrite fic out now!

Please do note that this is a fully realized fem OC with her own personality, not a gender neutral reader insert, and there are a lot of potential triggers involved.

So please make sure to read the tags fully before going in!

But don't worry, everything else will stay gender neutral and reader insert! Nothing is going to change about that here or on tumblr.

#obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me simeon

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rhey-007 · 5 months

Text

Velvet Bond

Mafia boss!Pierre Gasly x mafia!reader || 18+

Summary: Being the only child of one of France's most dangerous mafia bosses you were expected to take over the throne your whole life. But your father had other plans, arranging your marriage with a handsome but annoying Pierre Gasly.

Warnings/Tags: SMUT, 18+, female reader, arranged marriage, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, bratty reader, dominant/powerful/possessive Pierre, violence, slurs, cliff hanger cause I hate y'all >:( (just joking hi hi 🤭 love you! 💞)

A/N: I'VE MADE IT!!! I finally finished it. Was hoping to post it just after the Vegas GP but haven't managed to finish it until now but it's better than nothing. What to say more... It's long. Just so y'know. Enjoy! 💞

Wordcount: 7201

☆.｡.:*🌹.｡.:*☆

Arriving to your father's office early in the morning, because he wanted to talk with you about something really important, you've expected everything but not that.

Entering the office, there was a huge smile plastered on your face, a grey bag of fresh cinnamon rolls – your father's favourite – in your right hand and two cups of coffee in the left one – a sugar bomb of a cappuccino containing more milk than coffee for yourself and a simple black one with just a little spoon of sugar for your father.

You greeted the older man happily, coming around his desk and placing a good morning kiss to his cheek before settling the food down carefully on the wooden surface and taking a place in front of him. He thanked you for the goods, immediately taking a sip of the coffee, a satisfied hum escaping his lips.

„So what did you want to talk about with me”

You asked while nibbling on one of the buns. Observing your father, you noticed his presence change from a dominant and prideful father to a scared little girl. That's when a deep frown appeared on your face.

„First of all, please stay calm. Bursting out in rage won't help”

He warned and you already knew the talk wasn’t going to be pleasant. You nodded your head but knowing your temper the atmosphere in the office would be on fire the moment he finished talking.

„You know well that I'm not young anymore and my end can come everyday-„

„Don't say that. We both know it won't. Unless there's something you haven’t told me... „

You cut him off. It was rude and you were taught otherwise but in that situation you just couldn’t keep quiet, not when he said shit like that. Your father was a really healthy man, he wasn’t young anymore that's a fact, but neither was he old.

With that said, the only way he could die was a murder which meant he was in danger. But why wouldn’t he tell you? You were his 2nd right hand, helping taking care of the mafia and it's business. You two never had secrets between yourself unless it was about your private life – that is you not telling him you've slept around with one of his men one time, or him not telling you about his new partner for a long time because he thought you wouldn’t accept her, but he was wrong, you were more than happy to meet the 3rd woman that made him happy.

„You know I tell you everything honey”

„I hope so... „

„Continuing. I need to be sure that after my death someone would take a good care of our empire. That is why I found you a husband „

You felt your heart drop down to your stomach. Hearing those words slip out of your father’s mouth so easily made you want to vomit.

How could he? How could he arrange your marriage when he always told you that you could marry whoever you wanted? He himself believed in real love and now said something like this?

And it wasn’t even the worst. He wanted some STRANGE man to take over what's supposed to be YOURS?! You worked your ass off for the mafia, you were trained to become the boss since you were 5! And he wanted to give it away just like that?

Because what? Because you were a WOMAN? Because he thought you were too weak? Not smart enough? Blood boiled in your vains, hands curled in tight fists and face going red.

A faint sigh left your father’s lips knowing what's to come next. You shot up, full of rage and started to shout your lungs out, everyone in the mansion hearing you even though the room was soundproof.

„WHAT?! You gotta be kidding me! That’s a fucking joke. How could you! I was supposed to be the next boss not some random dude you want to give me away to! Do you even know him or do you owe him something huh? IF YOU GOT IN TROUBLE WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME? „

„You promised me you will be calm... „

„AND YOU PROMISED ME I CAN MARRY WHOEVER I WANT! „

A single tear fell down your cheek. You usually kept your emotions, other than rage, at bay but this time you couldn’t help it. You felt betrayed, betrayed by your own creator, your only parent.

If only your mother was still alive, she woouldn’t even let him think of something like this. The man got up with a grunt, his arms slumped down in defeat, sad expression on his face.

„I know sweetheart, I know... But I can’t risk getting you hurt, or worse - loosing you. You know information spreads like crazy in our world and the moment someone finds out you'll be the one in charge after I leave they might want to hurt you... I know you're a strong and independent woman and I really would love to give it to you, because you're the only one I fully trust but I really can't. For your own good. You need to understand... And Pierre. He’s... He's a really nice guy. His late father was my best friend, he was the one who met me with your mother, and watching Pierre take great care of the business I knew he was the most suitable one for you. And he's handsome, has great genes. He’s just perfect for my little princess”

The man walked around from behind his desk and wanted to touch your cheek but you moved away.

„Don't touch me”

You hissed and was just about to start shouting again, when the man in question appeared. Your father was right, he was handsome, but not handsome enough to make you change your mind. No matter who it would be, the ugliest guy alive or a literal god you would never change your mind.

His green eyes shined in golden chandelier’s light, the dark blue suit he wore perfectly matched them and the aura surrounding him was quite intimidating. Standing in the door he looked between your disheveled and shaking self and your defeated father.

„Excuse me. I was told I may come in. I'll come back later”

He said in a gentleman manner but you shook your head in protest.

„You can come, I was leaving anyway”

Giving the two of them a death glare you gathered your things and left in a rush, bumping Pierre's shoulder on your way.

„I see your daughter didn’t take the news well „

„Of course she didn’t... „

☆.｡.:*🌹.｡.:*☆

You stormed out of the building and straight to the garages where you found your deathly black Impala 1967 and hopped inside. After turning on the engine you left the garage and drove to the town to meet with your best friends – Aisha and Chloe.

The girls lived together so you didn’t have to pick either of them up on your way to the other's apartment. You parked your vehicle in front of the building and quickly walked inside. After a calming elevator drive you stormed inside the apartment without even knocking as you usually would.

„Someone’s maaad”

Aisha chirped from the kitchen while Chloe run into the living room hearing your displeased groan and couch creeking as you literally threw yourself on top of it. You told them everything while they jumped around you trying to make you as comfortable as they could, eventually landing you in bed of their quest room, wrapped in a cozy blanket with a huge bowl of ice cream in your hands.

You stayed there the whole day and by the time evening came the girls have managed to persuade you to go out partying. The three of you spent the next couple of days on shopping in the day and partying at night.

Until one day you went to a club you've never ever been to before. It was really fancy, great music, handsome men. You even managed to pull one of them.

The two of you were making out in the quiet corridor leading to the bathrooms. You started to unbuntton his shirt while he hiked your dress up when someone yanked him away, throwing him to the ground. You looked up at the man, it was no one else than Pierre.

„Fuck off”

He growled at the guy and motioned to his men to get him out of the club. He grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you towards his office.

„What the fuck?! Who do you think you are?! „

You hissed, pushing away after you entered the room. Looking him up and down you noticed the vains about to pop on his forehead and neck, the way his teeth was clenched in anger, and the suit he was wearing... It suited him a little too well.

„I'm your fucking fiance! „

„Kiss my ass! „

You turned around on your heel and reached for the door but Pierre pulled you back, tugging you harshly towards himself and forcing an engagement ring onto your finger.

You tried to pull it off after he let you go but not only did it got stuck but also something painfully stuck into your skin with each attempt. You looked confused between the ring and the man who had a wicked grin on his face.

„You'll never take it off unless I do it. You're mine and only mine... So stop acting like a whore. Now... I need to punish you... „

He unbuckled his belt and was just about to take it off when you flipped his wooden desk over. Years of going to the gym have finally paid off. It landed on him with a loud thump, making him fall down and groan in pain.

You took the opportunity and quickly run away, pulling your friends after yourself and out of the club. The three of you quickly got into Chloe’s limousine and drove away.

The girls gasped seeing your ring. It was beautiful, two golden bands connected to each other, one had a rich, red ruby in a shape of a tear attached to it and the other just as beautiful tear shaped emerald, and last but not least little golden thorns.

At least now you knew why it hurt to take it off. You liked to think that the ring symbolized the pain connected with your marriage, as well as ties and loyalty to both mafias.

„So he's your fiance! No way! „

„Way! „

You grumbled unsatisfied and slumped into the car's couch. Both Aisha and Chloe knew who Pierre was, both of them having a big crush on him, as well as any other women that knew him.

They also knew he owned the club they just left but had no idea that he might be your soon to be husband. They explained it to you and apologised the whole night, even though it wasn’t their fault and you weren’t mad at them at all.

☆.｡.:*🌹.｡.:*☆

On the next day you couldn’t stop thinking about that situation. Who did he thought he was? Just because your father gave your hand to him didn’t mean he could hurt you, unless he wanted to have his way with you that's why he took off the belt, but you prefered to think the 1st option was true.

Your father texted you as you layed on the couch in your apartment, watching some stupid reality TV shows just to kill time.

„Pierre is organizing your engagement party. It will happen this Saturday at 5:30 pm. You can take your girlfriends if you'd like. Please don't be late and appear in something suitable. I love you with with my whole heart and I'm really sorry ❤”

Tossing your phone to the other end of the furniture with a deep sigh, you started to ponder on what to wear. You weren’t going to listen to your pop's instead opting for something more revealing and bold that would piss both men.

Nor were you going to spare yourself alcohol, planning on getting drunk and ridicule them, maybe then the french man would give up and call off the engagement. You told your best friends about your mysterious plan and ordered them to dress like sluts too.

When the day came you arrived late, on purpose just to make a huge entrance. Dressed in skimpy mini dresses you stumbled into the restaurant, giggles and chuckles filled the room as you took your places, Aisha almost tripping over her own legs. It could be seen you were a little tipsy already but you couldn't care less.

„Sorry. We're late”

You whispered to your father with a wide smile before sitting down next to your fiance. You could see he was pissed. His palm landed on your bare thigh, gripping the flesh and bone painfully hard that you were sure he’d leave an unwanted mark.

He got up and made a quick toast to both of you, finally letting the gathered there people eat then grabbed your hand and excused yourselves. After you’ve found a quiet place Pierre threw you to the wall and gripped your neck tightly.

“I told you to stop acting like a slut, yet you not only arrive here late but also break my order putting on the shortest dress you own”

His other hand slapped your ass harshly.

“At least you wore panties... Can’t believe I’m going to marry you-”

“You’re not so saint yourself”

You spit straight onto his face hoping he would let you go, but he only tightened the hold on your neck.

“You better behave or I won’t be so delicate tonight mon cheri. Now get your shit together and come back” (my dear)

Soon Gasly let go of you and left you alone. Trying to even out your breath you started to fear of what he meant. Did he want you to stay with him for the night to pre-consume the marriage? If that was the case – he could only wish.

Throughout the whole dinner you kept shamelessly flirting with Pierre’s best friend Charles, seated just next to him. The monasque reciprocated your behaviour but more in a soft and playful manner out of respect to Pierre and not to angry you.

He heard a bout you before. A beautiful killer apple of the eye of one of the most dangerous mafia bosses in France, ready to gut out whoever tries to harm their business herself. Leclerc knew better than to angry you, especially since you weren't fully sober anymore.

Aside that the dinner went rather smoothly, much to your dissatisfaction, although you overheard a few of Gasly’s relatives and friends say that he should be ashamed of not having any control over you and letting you come drunk to the event.

Just as you expected you were suddenly left alone with Pierre, your best friends escorted out of the restaurant by your father’s men leaving with him.

You sat at the end of the long table, slowly sipping on your champagne and watching the staff start to clean everything up, when an arm wrapped around your waist pulling you up and throwing over a shoulder.

You yelped and squirmed in Gasly’s touch, the glass you earlier held falling to the ground and shattering to many pieces.

“Put me down!”

You ordered sternly as he carried you upstairs to a room, heels kicking his chest and fists banging on his back, both of which didn’t seem to affect him.

“If you thought...”

A groan escaped his lips as he threw you onto the bed then locked the door. He looked down at you in a predatory manner, eyes dark, filled with both rage and lust. He towered over you as you sat up and pushed away just to the very end of the bed.

“You’ll get away with flirting with my best friend AND making an irresponsible person out of me... You were wrong...”

The man continued with a hiss and reached for your ankles, pulling you back towards himself. In meanwhile, you’ve managed to straighten your leg and soon your heel dug into his croch.

He released you with a loud grumble letting you quickly got up from the bed and run to the door. Just as you heard the lock click, the man’s rough hand found your neck drawing your back to his chest. You could feel his heart beat like crazy and his errection poking your bottom. He must have enjoyed it...

“Listen mon amour... “ (my love)

Pierre’s sharp teeth grazed your earlobe, hot breath fanning your skin.

“You either behave and be a good girl or I won’t hesitate killing your father... Your brattines won’t lead you anywhere, everything is already written down and signed so we don’t need him anymore...”

His threat made a knot form in your throat. People like him – like you – were never joking about death so you knew he would be capable of doing that. But you couldn’t let your father die so early so you nodded your head huffing angrily.

“Bonne fille~” (good girl)

Finally letting go of your neck, the man slowly hiked your dress up, his lips leaving soft kisses on your skin.

“ Now... What should I do with you... Such an inobedient slut...”

“Please...”

You let out a quiet whimper, eyes shut awaiting the man’s next move.

“Please what?”

Pierre’s hand trailed down your hip, stopping at the hem of your underwear and starting to toy with it.

“J-Just let me go...”

A loud chuckle rumbled out of his chest.

“And where’s the fun in that?”

The man bit the shell of your ear gently while his hand traveled inside your panties, stopping at your wet folds.

„If you want me to let you go... Then why is your body screaming for my touch? „

There was something intoxicating in Pierre, you couldn’t quite say what it was but it was there... And you didn’t like it.

One part of you prayed for a release and quick escape but the other... Oh the other... The other one wanted Pierre to ravish you. You knew well, by just one look, what kind of guy in bed Pierre was. Rough. Ruthless. Passionate.

All things you haven’t received from any man in a long time and the second part of you longed for. Unintentionally bucking your hips to his front, feeling his erection even more prominent against your butt you let out a whimper that only signalled Pierre to continue.

One of his fingers dipped inside of you and started to curl devilish slow while his thumb started to rub soft circles on your clit. The man enjoyed teasing you, you could practically feel his wicked smile on your skin as he stopped leaving dark marks down your neck for a moment.

The French man loved how your walls clenched around his only finger wanting... No... Needing, more.

„And you said you didn’t want it~”

Pierre smirked picking you up and throwing onto the bed one again. You watched as he quickly unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants along with boxers down revealing his member.

You felt your mouth water at the only sight before the man flipped you over and put on all fours. Running his girth along your wet folds he groaned in satisfaction then pushed inside with ease.

„Fuck... You feel so good... At least you’ll make a good wife in bed... I’ll fuck that bratty attitude out of you”

You couldn’t help a moan as Pierre started to thrust into you in an agonizing pace, not letting you adjust to himself. The man gripped your hips so tight you were sure he'd leave marks.

Moans, grunts and pants filled the room, as you indulged in the pleasure and pain. Wet sounds of skin slapping skin were like honey to Gasly's ear,s he couldn’t help but to spank you a few times.

„You enjoy it don't you? You dirty little slut...”

The constant reminder that he considered you a woman of easy virtue drew you crazy. You enjoyed nightly escapeds with strangers but it didn’t mean you did it everyday.

Blood started to boil in your veins when you finally looked up, seeing Pierre take you from behind as if he was a filthy animal, in the floor length mirror of the wardrobe.

You looked like a mess, even worse than before, disheveled hair stuck to your sweaty forehead, skin was painted with hickeys, your dress barely hanging on your body while your boobs have spilled out of it a long time ago.

Pierre smiled at you as if you were just a mere thing to him, his own possession.

„Your pussy is so tight for such a whore you are-„

In that moment you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Kicking him away you turned over and threw him down then straddled his lap.

„You call me a whore once again... And I won't hesitate killing you”

You growled before quickly lowering yourself onto him and starting to fuck him, rough and fast, just as you liked. You couldn’t care less that your legs burned like crazy, you had to show him who was the boss there.

„Nu-uh”

When the man tried to grip your ass and move you the way he wanted, you grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.

„If I can be a good girl...You can be a good boy... "

You hissed and pressed your chest to his face, muffling his sounds of dissatisfaction. Pierre captured one of your nipples in his mouth, licking and biting it giving you even more pleasure.

„Mmm... I'm close... „

The man warned with a tug of your nippple making you yank away and grip his neck tightly.

„You're not gonna cum until I let you... „

A wide grin appeared on his face, he was enjoying it... He was even more sick than you thought. You wanted to vomit at the only though of letting him fuck you, yet there you were, right on top of him, riding as if there was no tomorrow.

You chased your release like crazy, not caring about the man at all until it hit you... It hit both of you. Warm liquid spilling inside of you as Pierre couldn’t hold it in anymore. After regaining your senses you planted a juicy slap to the man’s cheek.

“Ouch... What was that for?”

“I didn’t let you cum”

Growling out, another slap landed on his cheek before you spat on his face and got up. The man watched you dress with a content smile painted on his face.

“You’re hot when you’re angry”

“Shut up”

You sushed him before leaving the room.

☆.｡.:*🌹.｡.:*☆

Throughout next few days you tried to ignore the french man as best as you could and focus on the wedding preparations. Pierre was so gracious he let you organise everything however you wanted but your father wasn’t happy with that information.

One day he threatened that if you didn’t include your fiancé in at least half of the preparations he wouldn’t pay for your dress. As much as you were displeased with it, you decided to listen to him at least once in your life.

You’ve tried to call Pierre for the past two hours but the man didn’t pick up. You didn’t care at all that he might have been busy. When you’ve finally reached his secretary and argued with her for 15 minutes she connected you with Pierre’s office.

“Mr Gasly... Your fiance is on the line... S-She insisted I-I'm sorry...”

The poor girl announced before letting you speak.

“Listen here you little shit. Your priorities are obviously fucked up, because if you like it or not, I WILL be your wife and I should always be the most important thing for you. UNDERSTOOD? I’ve been trying to reach you for the past TWO HOURS and I don’t care what the hell are you doing YOU HAVE TO ANSWER. NOW!”

Pierre pinched the bridge of his nose clearly annoyed. He was in the middle of an interrogation while you called... Of course you had to call in such a moment. He quickly dismissed his men and the prey before picking up.

“What”

The man gritted out, his hand gripping the phone so tight he could break it any minute.

“Dad said I have to include you in the wedding activities. I’ve e-mailed you the schedule already. Today we have a cake testing at 4, don’t be late or I’ll chop your balls off... Tomorrow we’re going to pick out the dercorations at 12”

After rambling about the plans for another half an hour Pierre has finally stopped you.

“Okay, okay. I’ll check the schedule and won’t be late I promise just... Next time please be patient... I can’t constantly be available, I have work to do”

“What is more important than your future wife, huh?”

“Everything...”

You’ve ended the call angrily not letting him finish, but the man was very relieved when you hung up.

A few months passed since you got engaged. You already got used to the painful ring sitting on your finger and accepted your fate, although deep inside your heart burned every time you though about it.

You've spent the last weekend at your father's, discussing some wedding plans and just enjoying each other's company. One morning he called you for an important conversation.

„Pierre wasn’t really happy with it, but we eventually came to an agreement”

The older man started just a second after you made it to the dining room.

„Which is?”

You quietly took a place beside him and started to eat your breakfast. You stuffed your mouth with a pancake awaiting his response.

„After your marriage the two gangs will morph into a big one. He will be the boss but you'll be his right hand and have a say in all the matters that once were of our gang’s. As well as all our people will have to come to you for consent if Pierre orders them something”

“And you?”

“I’ll stick around and help if any of you would need me. Pierre also would have to consult bigger matters with me until I’m gone”

Your father explained. It wasn’t really what you wanted but was even more than you expected the french man to agree to. You knew better than to argue with both of them and accepted it reluctantly, which didn’t mean you wouldn’t fight for what's yours later into your marriage.

A smile appeared on your father’s face before he stood up and pulled you into a tight hug. You reciprocated, burrying your face in the crook of his neck.

Soon a door bell interrupted your little moment of affection.

„Oh! He’s here! „

A groan escaped your lips as you threw your head back seeing Pierre walk in. You were hoping you won't see him until the wedding but there you were, pushed out of the manor by your father to talk with Gasly.

“I think the preparations are going great... Aside the fact that you were late for all the appointments...”

The fresh spring air hit your faces as you headed to your mother’s gardens. Even though you were a few months into your engagement, nothing changed in neither’s behaviour. You still were a bratty bitch while Pierre kept being a despotic dick.

The only times you two tried to cooperate were when you worked or were in company of your father. The older man had to know that his little girl was and will be well treated by his best friend’s son as well as you won’t bite off Pierre’s head the moment he leaves you alone for 5 minutes.

Gracing the fingers along blossoming and still closed flowers, you stopped and picked one up. Turning around to face Gasly you noticed his expression was different than always, soft and admiring, before it quickly changed to his usual cold one when you looked up at him and placed the picked up flower in his chest pocket.

The small gesture almost melted his heart before he regained his senses.

The man noticed he started to behave weird in your company but he tried not to show it. His heart skip a beat every time you touched him out of your own will, which wasn’t often, leaving him starved for your touch. He couldn’t fuck a chick without thinking of that night he spent with you. He had no idea what you did with him but your only glance, especially the mad or angry ones, made his heart – and pants - tight.

“It’s gonna go great. You worry too much”

He admitted as you kept walking further into the garden.

“Well... One of us has to worry while the other constantly parties, taking different strange woman back home everynight”

“Are you jelous?”

You stopped in your tracks at the question, head snaping in the man’s direction with deep frown. Were you jelous he slept with other women? No. Were you jelous he was so laid back and couldn’t care less about the preparations, dumping them all on you? Yes. You didn’t have to say a word, your expression literally shouting your naswer at him.

“I’m not sleeping with the first woman that comes along. I own the club so I have to go there from time to time and check if everything’s alright”

Pierre explained with a huff and an annoyed roll of his eyes.

“Anyway... Here”

The man took out one of his many credit cards and handed it to you.

“Treat yourself to something nice. And you can keep it. Consider it aaa... Wedding gift”

“Let me guess...”

You took the card and started to examine it.

“There’s only 100€ so I wouldn’t get spoiled?”

The genuine smile you gave him along your answer made a shiver run down his spine. You chuckled along before Gasly responded with that huge and beautiful smile of his.

“No, No... There’s not enough to buy crown jewels but should be equal to the cheapest ferrari. But don’t buy it. We don’t need another car”

“Right! I just remembered! You promised to show me our car collection”

Soon your conversation trailed away from the wedding, instead focusing on cars and racing. The man found out you loved to race and promised to take you to an f1 race one day to watch Charles.

Pierre admired your fascination with vehicles and loved that you’ve finally found a mutual topic. He also found out you always wanted to own a pistachio coloured ford thunderbird but was never able to find it. At least now he knew what to buy you for a wedding gift and appease you a little into the marriage.

He admired the passion in your voice when you described your favorite vehicles, aside the thunderbird mentioning impalas, mystery Machine, miatas and more. Pierre noticed your different tastes, he prefered fast sporty cars while you opted for the beautiful classics... And Miatas.

☆.｡.:*🌹.｡.:*☆

Standing in front of a mirror, looking at yourself in your wedding gown, tears started to fill your eyes. You really didn’t want this and it could be seen. Your friends tried their best to lighten up your mood at least a little bit but it was hard considering that every, even the smallest, part of their bodies shared your pain.

„You look so beautiful... Just like your mom... „

A male voice sounded in the room making the three of you turn around and face your father. He motioned for Aisha and Chloe to leave and take their places at the altar. The man walked up to you and brushed away a tear falling down your cheek.

„Don’t cry princess... It's gonna be alright... „

He brought you to a tight hug and whispered to your ear.

„Now, go get him tiger and kick his ass. He starts to get on my nerves too... „

You chuckled amused then pushed away with a smile. The ceremony went by surprisingly smoothly. Even both you and Pierre shed a tear. Yours was of sadness, of course, while his of pure happiness. You looked so beautiful he couldn’t help it nor could he believe he was about to marry such a god like creature. He just had to work on your behavior and you were going to be the best ever wife he could wish for.

You had a really great time at the reception, dancing with your father, friends, Pierre and his friends, eating the delicious food and deserts and playing stupid games.

„I've gotta admit you're a great dancer... Not as good as Charles but still”

Pierre chuckled as he spoon you around on the empty dance floor. Everyone has already left, leaving the two of you finally alone, able to indulge in each other's company. You'd rather sit at the table and eat another sweet while talking with the man but he insisted on one last, slow dance.

„You took a good care of the preparations... I'm sorry I wasn’t there most of the time... „

Pierre sighed, head dropping down. You frowned a little. Sure you were mad he dumped all of that on you but you couldn’t blame him. He was a busy mafia boss so you understood it. Brushing your thumb along his jaw you made him look at you.

„It's okay don't worry. Let bygones be bygones...”

You softly pressed you lips against his cheek then let a quiet yawn escape them.

„I think it's time to go to bed”

Pierre chuckled picking you up. He carried you to your room and gently dropped down onto the bed. You let him take off your sneakers and kiss your ankles. The man pulled you back up then you untied his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. After taking it off he ordered for you to spin around, to soon unzip your dress and slid it down your body.

„No bra? „

He chuckled kissing your neck then down your back. You stepped out from the dress and put it on a chair nearby before helping Pierre get rid of his pants, his eyes not leaving your breasts. When you reached for the waistband of his boxers, the man gripped your wrists and looked deep into your eyes.

„We don’t have to do this... „

He whispered, bringing your hands up to his face and planting soft kisses.

„What if I want to?... „

Pierre stopped his ministrations on your palms, eyes snapping to yours.

„Are you sure? If we start there’s no going back... And I'm not gonna go easy on you...”

He growled yanking you closer.

„I don’t want you to... „

Teasing with a flirtatious smirk, you didn’t have to wait long for the french man to smash his lips against yours and throw you to the bed.

„I'm on top first”

You've managed to breath out between kisses, earning a displeased groan.

„But then you can do whatever you want with me... „

You continued soon after and felt Pierre grip your hips tightly signaling his approval of the idea. The man shimmied out of his underwear then teared your off and flipped you over, huge palms kneeding your ass cheeks. You grinded on the man, sliding your walls against his length.

“Didn’t thought the day you’ll fuck me out of your own will would come so quickly. Yet there you are... Ma princesse so needy for me-”

“Can you for once shut up...”

You whined starting to get annoyed and stopped your movement.

“How can I shut up when I’ve just married such a goddess?...”

“What a medieval lover you are...”

You sighed with a roll of your eyes and continued your ministrations, trying to ignore every compliment that slip from his lips. Soon your womanhood started to coat Pierre’s twitching member in your juices as your hips rocked back and forth quickly, soft moans escaping your mouth while the man just stared at you with a cheeky grin and admiration shining in eyes.

When you finally decided to slowly lower yourself into his length he let out a moan too. You chuckled a little before lifting your thighs and slamming back down right after.

Repeating the motion you found a steady pace, going faster with every sound of slapping skin, Pierre eventually helping you by thrusting deep inside. His hands gripped your butt, nails digging into the flesh while yours firlmy rested on his chest, helping you with your balance.

The frenchman sat up, bringing your body closer to his and positioning in a way his every thrust hit your G spot. Crying out in pleasure you were sure the whole hotel and staff heard you but you could not care less too occupied by the hedonism.

The man burried his face in between your chest, kissing and nibbling them, not getting enough of the taste and softenss of your skin. He held you with one hand while the other played with your sensitive bud, circling and pinching it earning more moans from you.

“Pierre... Fuck...”

Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling his face to meet your lips in a tender kiss while you came undone in his grasp. Heavy breaths filled the room after you pulled away, staring into each other’s souls.

“Why do you have to be so good at this...”

Breaking the silence, you earned a warm laugh from your fiance. You never thought you’d hear his genuine laugh. The man gently layed you down on the soft covers and after asking if you were good to continue, to which you eagerly nodded, he once again started to move inside of you, this time slow but deep.

You’ve spent the night fucking like rabbits, not having enough even when you were out of breath, eventually finishing when you almost fell asleep mid round.

☆.｡.:*🌹.｡.:*☆

The start of your marriage was difficult, but it wasn’t nothing you haven’t expected. Starting from jealous Pierre stalking you in Hawaii when you haven’t taken him to your honeymoon, instead taking Aisha and Chloe.

Through the man ignoring and braking the rules he established with your father. Ending at treating you like nothing more than a maid and his own possession.

But there were also nice moment like when you had a nightmare and couldn’t sleep. Everytime you sneaked into his room, Pierre welcomed you in with open arms and no questions. Or when he took a whole day off for your birthday and the two of you did whatever you wanted. Or when he finally took you to the f1 race, where you had a really great time, later on partying with Charles.

Until one night when you thought it was the end.

After complaining to your father that Pierre has been pushing you away from the gang's matters and the older man almost shreading your husband into pieces, the French man has finally let you work with him. You stormed into your mansion after a successful but very risky mission, all bruised up and hurt.

„What the fuck is wrong with you?! „

Gasly shouted, slamming the door after himself and quickly following your bloody footsteps all the way to the kitchen where you tried to wash the blood off your hands.

„I had it-„

„You didn’t got shit! „

You shouted back finally opening your mouth to him after he almost killed both of you.

„You could have gotten us fucking killed! „

„ME?! I wasn’t the one driving like crazy almost crashing the car in the river! „

You turned around and faced him, pure anger painted on your face, as well as his. It was just supposed to be a quick check out around your territory on your way to a dinner Pierre promised to take you to, when you accidentally encountered a person responsible for an unsuccessful weapons smuggling.

You wanted to kill him right there and then, but Pierre insisted on stalking him. What was just supposed to be a slow stalk turned into a chase in a matter of minutes.

Pierre was a great driver, you had to admit, but this time he didn’t make it on so many turns, leaving the car and both of you all beat up at the end of the night.

When you've managed to puncture the guy's tires with your gun and make him stop, he started to run making you do the same. It was hard to do it in your heels, Pierre eventually overtaking you even though you were the faster one.

Heels long forgotten, you chased the guys bare foot when you heard a gunshot and saw your husband's bloodied arm. Fortunately it was just a scratch. When you tried to neutralize the man, he almost shot a bullet right through your head, one of your man who has just pulled up pushing you away last minute.

In that moment Pierre felt like his heart stopped beating. He already imagined your limp body laying in his arms, those beautiful but dead blue eyes of yours staring into his soul, while yours left your body along the liters of blood.

Just then did he understood the weird feeling he has been feeling towards you for past few months was love. The man regained his senses when he heard you laugh maniacally at your prey. A smile creeping up to his face when the sound filled his ears.

“But you were the one throwing yourself at the guy! He almost shot you in the head!”

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a PUSSY laying on the ground with JUST A FUCKING SCRATCH I wouldn’t have to do that!”

You shouted on top of your lungs throwing a vase at the man in rage. Pierre made a quick dodge before looking behind himself at the broken vase, which was one of the wedding gifts from Charles, your favorite actually. The man slowly turned around to face you, fury in his eyes, hands curled in tight fists.

“What did you just call me?...”

He asked quietly to which you responded boldly.

“A pussy. A fucking pussy. A cunt. A motherfucker. A himbo. A-”

The man cut you off with a harsh hit to your face. You fell to the ground with a cry and looked up at Pierre, a glimpse of fear in your eyes but the bold attitude still beamed out of you.

“HOW DARE YOU CALL ME THAT”

Pierre lost control of himself, completely forgetting that you were his wife, a much more weak person, and kicked your stomach a few times before picking up and throwing across the room.

Your head hit the corner of a coffee table, body falling limb to the ground, a dark red stain forming on the light grey carpet.

The french man watched the terrifying sight in front of him, which he caused, in terror. Falling down to his knees he called for help while capturing your body in his hold, thumbs brushing your cheeks while tears fell down his.

“Y/N...”

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