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#re: tidal.
eoieopda · 7 months
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i just found your blog and i am absolutely in love oh my godddddd the way you wrote vernon from svt is probably my favorite characterization of him i’ve come across you nailed it!!
ahhh!! thank you 😭 he’s such a unique guy; i’m glad to hear that my fictionalized version of him meshed with that 💘
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fionaapplerocks · 2 years
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A quick note about buying Fiona Apple vinyl:
The VinylMePlease store currently have When The Pawn, The Idler Wheel and Fetch the Bolt Cutters in stock with Extraordinary Machine pending release.
For international buyers, this is a rare chance to buy several LPs together and save on the postage charges, they charge non-members per shipment.
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imakemywings · 1 year
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sometimes I think about Feanor reconciling with Nerdanel and Fingolfin sometime after death and I just 💔
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gallawitchxx · 2 years
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After the Barber!Mickey drabbles have reached a conclusion we need a “Making Of.” You know, behind the scenes, discarded script ideas, etc etc. :D
tidal my sweet 🥳 does this mean bts of barber!mickey?
i really hate to disappoint, but i don’t have much! some reference photos that @look-i-love-u sent me at the very beginning maybe? but every word i’ve written, you’ve read. i had 2 little snippets of something hanging around at the bottom of my doc, but i’ve even repurposed those already & slotted ‘em in! 😂
i am going to have some bts of witchy!mickey though when the new chapter drops next week? LOL. but these drabbles have been no word left behind, written in one fell swoop & immediately delivered to y’all here 😘
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code1lt · 15 days
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iwanthermidnightz · 10 months
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When I think back on the Speak Now album, I get a lump in my throat. I have a feeling it will always be that way, because this period of time was so vibrantly aglow with the last light of the setting sun of my childhood. I made this album, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. I've spoken about how I feel like those ages are the most emotionally turbulent ones in a persons life. Maybe when I say that, I'm really just talking about myself.
I think they might just be the most idealistic, hopeful years too. At this point in my life, I had released my second album, Fearless. It became the breakthrough moment I'd always dreamt of, one that catapulted my career to new realms of success. It had brought with it a tidal wave of pressures and pitfalls and growing pains. All the while, I was encountering the milestones and checkpoints of normal teenage growth. I had cataclysmic crushes and brushes with heartache. I moved out of my parents' house and set my bags down in a new apartment. I hung photos on my own walls and decorated the space where I would sob and cackle and shatter and dream. Sometimes I felt like a grown up, but a lot of the time I just wanted to time travel back to my childhood bed, where my mom would read stories to me until I fell asleep.
In my darker moments, I was tormented by the doubt that swirled loudly around my ascent and my merits as an artist. I was trying to create a follow up to the most awarded country album in history, while staring directly into the face of intense criticism. I had been widely and publicly slammed for my singing voice and was first encountering the infuriating question that is unfortunately still lobbed at me to this day: does she really write her songs? Spoiler alert: I really, really do.
In the years since, I've developed a thicker skin about public criticism and the cynicism with which some people approach the music I make. At that time, it leveled me. I had these voices in my head telling me that I had the perfect chance and I blew it. I hadn’t been good enough. I had given it all I had and been found wanting.
I wanted to get better, to challenge myself, and to build on my skills as a writer, an artist, and a performer. I didn't want to just be handed respect and acceptance in my field. I wanted to earn it. To try and confront these demons, I underwent extensive vocal training and made a decision that would completely define this album: I decided I would write it entirely on my own. I figured, they couldn't give all the credit to my cowriters if there weren't any. But that posed a new challenge: It really had to be good. If it wasn't, I would be proving my critics right.
I had no idea how much this pain would shape me. That this was the beginning of my series of creative choices made by reacting to setbacks with defiance. That my stubbornness in the face of doubters and dissenters would become my coping mechanism through my entire career from that point forward. This exact pattern of enacting my own form of rebellion when I feel broken is exactly why you're reading these very words, and I'm re-releasing this album now.
I went through my first worldwide scandal (the mic grab seen around the world). I experienced the weirdness of trying to get to know a boy while a swarm of paparazzi surrounds the car. Media contacting my publicist for an official statement on why two teenagers broke up. These are weird experiences to have at any age, but even more surreal when you're 19.
I had the nagging sense that in the most intense moments of my life, I had frozen. I had said nothing publicly. I still don't know if it was out of instinct, not wanting to seem impolite, or just overwhelming fear. But I made sure to say it all in these songs. I decided to call the album Speak Now. It was a play on the speak now or forever hold your peace' moment in weddings, but for me it symbolized a chance to respond to the chatter and commentary around my own life.
Some of these emotional revelations were surprising to people. Some expected anger and instead got compassion and empathy with 'Innocent'. Some expected a kiss-off breakup song but instead got a hand-on-heart apology, 'Back to December. It was an album that was the most precious to me because of its vast extremes. It was unfiltered and potent. In my mind, the saddest song I've ever written is 'Last Kiss'. My most scathing is 'Dear John' and my most wistfully romantic is 'Enchanted'.
I'll be forever proud of setting a goal and seeing it through. I'lI always feel shivers all over when I remember singing 'Long Live' to close the show every night on tour. The outstretched hands of those bright and beautiful faces of the fans. Their support was like an open palm that reached out and helped me up off the ground when others were, frankly, mean.
These days I make my choices for those people, the ones who thought I had been good enough all along. I try to speak my mind when I feel strongly, in the moment I feel it. I'm still idealistic and earnest about the music I make, but I'm less crushed when people mock me for it. I know now that one of the bravest things a person can do is create something with unblinking sincerity, to put it all on the line. I still sometimes wish I was a little kid again in a tiny bed, before I ever grew up.
I always looked at this album as my album, and the lump in my throat expands to a quivering voice as I say this. Thanks to you, dear reader, it finally will be.
I consider this music to be, along with your faith in me, the best thing that's ever been mine.
Yours,
Taylor
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minarisplaything · 2 months
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Blackpink In Your Area (part three)
pairing: Kim Jisoo x M!Reader/M!OC, Rose x M!Reader/M!OC rating: Explicit wordcount: 4.6k notes: part three of the bpiya series. Rose/Chaeyoung/Rosie are all used interchangeably. this has been in the drafts forever so glad it actually got done lol. tags: doggy style, blackmail, oral sex
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To say that things had changed after your rendezvous backstage would be an understatement.
You were still the luckiest person in the world, able to call Jennie Kim your girlfriend, but now the number of Kims you were involved with had doubled.
At first, you had assumed it would simply be a one-off. That from Jennie to Jisoo to yourself, you had all gotten carried away in the heat of the moment and let your primal urges get the best of you. On top of that, you didn't think it was something Jennie would want to do again, though the whole experience had shown you a new side of her that you weren't utterly opposed to.
Therefore, one could imagine your surprise when you returned home one evening to find Jennie and Jisoo waiting at your apartment for you.
As it would turn out, Jisoo was too shy to reach out to you on her own, or at least with you present, but she had been hoping that you could have another experience together. And contrary to your previous belief, Jennie approved of it. Encouraged it even, much to your surprise. Though when those two women were looking back at you, proposing a dynamic between the three of you, it was damn near impossible to find a complaint.
From that point on, it was like a new beginning for the three of you, but little did you know, your journey wasn't at its fairy tale ending just yet.
A loud, guttural moan echoed in the residence of South Korean superstars Blackpink. The source of the sound was none other than the visual of the group Kim Jisoo.   
During your first encounter backstage, she had been trying her best to muffle her sounds and minimize the risk of discovery. It didn't take long for you to realize that when that risk was removed Jisoo was quite the vocal lover. And in a completely different manner than her bandmate.  
Jennie was vulgar, expletive, and above all else a master at the art of talking dirty. Jisoo on the other hand was loud in the sense that you would know when she was enjoying herself. Moans, whimpers, gasps, pleas for more; what she lacked in vulgar vocabulary she more than made up for in all the sounds she made. 
As evidenced now as she cried out when you began to fuck her with a more rapid pace.  
She had started on her hands and knees but as the session progressed her posture steadily changed to the point where her head was now buried against the mattress; her ass poised in the air and ripe for the taking. It was the perfect position for you to pound into her, your cock spreading her open each time you re-entered her. 
Normally Jennie would be here with you but seeing as she had a scheduled photoshoot to attend and no one else was around you had decided to entertain yourselves. It had taken some trust building to get to this point, where you could be on your own or Jennie could be with her, and you didn't have to worry about anyone getting jealous. But now that you had there was no turning back.  
"You're so fucking tight" you grunted, sweat glistening off of both of your bodies, proof to how long you had been at it. "Are you close? Are you going to cum on my cock, Jisoo?" 
Needless to say, Jennie's vulgar habits had been rubbing off on you in recent weeks. 
She opened her mouth to respond but words failed her.  In the end it didn't matter as her body spoke for her. You felt the familiar sensation of her walls tightening around your length, her body trembling as her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave.  It was both a feeling and sight you didn't think you'd ever get tired of. 
It didn't take much longer after that for you to reach your own peak; hips rocking against hers and fingers digging into her waist. Obscenities left you as you leaned into her, emptying yourself into her womb. It may not have come with the filthy encouragement of your girlfriend, but it was no less satisfying. 
You had found that one of the handful of differences between Jennie and Jisoo was in the aftermath of sex. Jennie preferred to bask in the afterglow, more often than not leading to a second or even third round of action. Jisoo on the other hand was much more subdued. She preferred to unwind and partake in aftercare. Not surprising considering how rough she liked things to be during sex.  
"You know when Jennie finds out about this, she's going to demand we treat her" you commented as a slipped out of Jisoo, pressing a kiss to her back before falling onto the bed beside her.  
"Is that a bad thing?" she questioned, brow raised as she lowered herself onto the bed, turning her head to look over at you with the hint of a grin on her features.  
“Not exactly.” you couldn't help but chuckle because she was right. If anything, it just meant the night would be a busy one.  
Before you could continue the conversation any further, the sound of the front door opening and closing echoed throughout the house.
"Speak of the devil,” you remarked.
"She's finished early," Jisoo noted, slightly confused.
"Maybe her sixth sense was tingling," you joked.
While there was a grin on your face at the prospect of Jennie being home, Jisoo didn't share your same amusement. Instead her head rose slightly as curiosity and concern marred her features. It turned out that her instincts were right as a voice soon rang out.
"Unnie? Are you home?"
"Shi — "
The immediate reaction was nearly comical. You jumped out of bed, searching for your clothes as Jisoo scrambled as well. Though you hadn't had many interactions with Chaeyoung, better known as Rose, due to trying to keep things a secret, you had heard her voice enough times to recognize it as hers.
In the end, you only managed to gather your clothes in your arms before Jisoo shoved you into the closet. She herself had only managed to slip on a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting T-shirt. To any trained eye, the post-sex hair and aroma would be apparent, but there was no time to consider that as there was a knock on the door.
"Unnie?"
The question came before the door was opened, and a blonde head poked its way into her room. "Oh! I wasn't sure if you were home or not."
"Ah, y-yes. Yes, I'm here. I had an empty schedule today," Jisoo replied nervously, brushing sweat-ridden bangs from her forehead. "I, uh, I actually just got back from the gym."
Internally, you groaned. She didn't remain quite as composed as her counterpart would in this situation. You just hoped she'd be able to get rid of Rose soon, lest you be stuck in here all day. It was a hope that was slightly dashed as she opened the door further and allowed herself into the room. Before you could come up with any further complaints, however, your thoughts were quickly silenced by Rose coming into picture. You found yourself leaning forward to get a better view through the slants in the closet door.
She wore a black crop top complemented by form-fitting track pants. When she laid herself on the bed, you weren’t concerned with whether she would get a scent of sex that had recently stained the sheets but instead thinking how perfect her ass looked as it was unknowingly pointed in your direction. 
You became less interested in the idle conversation that she and Jisoo began to have and more lost in the fantasies that began to plague your mind. The things you would do to her if given the opportunity. How she'd scream your name as you drove her to orgasm. It was clear to you then that your greed knew no bounds. But despite your cock reacting to the thoughts running through your head, you knew they were just that, thoughts that would never come to fruition.
Fortunately, you had enough self-restraint not to begin jerking off right there in the closet, and after what seemed like a lifetime, Jisoo finally managed to get her to leave with the excuse that she needed to use the shower having been to the gym.
The door closed as she saw Rose off, and there was a pause before you heard footsteps walking towards the closet. Jisoo opened the closet and immediately looked at you with a bewildered expression.
"You're still naked?!"
"...Yes?" you answered sheepishly.
"Get dressed please! This might be your only chance to leave without running into her," Jisoo exclaimed.
Deciding this wasn't the time for jokes, you obeyed her request. Had you been with Jennie, the situation might have been different; you could imagine her coming up with some kind of plot. But Jisoo wasn't so bold. Not yet, at least.
"I'm going to go take a shower, so she doesn't get suspicious. Let yourself out quietly."
You nodded affirmatively, but not before sneaking a kiss that drew a slight smile from the Blackpink visual. With no further instruction, she pushed you on your way, heading down the opposite end of the hallway towards the bathroom. Now that you were seemingly out of the woods, you could reflect on the situation with a bit of amusement. It seemed with each meeting, Jisoo was getting more and more comfortable with her sexuality and your relationship. On top of that, you had gotten a peek at some eye candy when Chaeyoung came to visit her.
You were grateful that she hadn't caught you in the act, but there was no denying that the idea of going to town on that petite body was a tantalizing one. Unfortunately for you, you'd have to content yourself with your fantasies for now.
You slipped out of the house without further incident, unaware of the watchful gaze of a certain petite blonde.
Due to their busy schedules, it was a while before you were able to catch up with Jennie or Jisoo in person again. And while sexting and Facetimes were great, they could never compete with the physical thing.
So, when you finally did get an invitation from Jennie to come over, needless to say, you dropped everything to make yourself available for her. Maybe if you were lucky, you'd even be rewarded after a long wait with a threesome.
"Jennie? Jisoo?" you called out when you arrived at the house. In her message, she was clear that no one else would be around, so you didn't feel shy about making yourself known, especially if Lisa and Rose weren't around.
Instead of a response, though, you got silence. Was she waiting in the bedroom for you? Maybe with a special surprise.
"They're not here."
To say the voice that came from behind you made you jump out of your skin would be an understatement. You nearly jumped through the damn roof! You turned around, heart beating a million miles an hour, to see one of the two people you had been told wouldn't be there. Uh-oh.
Chaeyoung, or Rose or Rosie, depending on who you were, was standing on the other side of the living room, looking decidedly unsurprised and nonplussed about a strange man being in her home. In fact, if anything, she looked like she had been expecting you.
"Uh, hi. I can explain. I don't think we've met — "
"I know who you are," Rosie cut you off.
Oh, no.
With Jennie, you could often read her as being in control or mischievous. Jisoo was often meek and eager. But looking at Rosie, you didn't know what to think. Was she angry and about to out your whole relationship to the public? No, surely, she'd never do that to her bandmates. Maybe she was just going to ban you from ever seeing them again. Whatever the case, she seemed content to let you squirm, her arms crossed over her small chest.
"And I know what you've been doing. Did you really think Jisoo would be able to keep a secret like that?"
You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You guessed it had been rather naïve to think that one of you wouldn't eventually slip up, and that Jisoo was the weakest link. Then again, you weren't exactly innocent with your impromptu encounters while other members were still in the house. You justified it by saying the risk made it that much more exciting, but this was the downside: when you got caught.
"If it makes you feel better, she didn't crack right away when I asked her if you two were fucking. But she has these certain tells when she's lying — they give her away every time" Rose explained. "She told me about you and Jennie which — wow I didn't even know that part." 
As she continued to talk, your immediate fear began to subside. It didn't seem like Rosie was here to expose you. In fact, the more she talked the less angry she seemed and more like she was criticizing your tactics. Which still left you questioning what exactly her goal was.  
Now that your mind wasn't racing, it also gave you a chance to look the idol over. She was wearing another one of her sports bras, and you could already feel a tingling in your loins just at the sight of it. This time instead of wearing track pants, she was wearing running shorts. The kind that came up right to her ass, in fact, you were pretty sure if she turned around you'd see some cheek. It was a lazy, around-the-house type of outfit and yet it showed off her body and slim waist perfectly.
Christ, every girl in this group was a killer.
Honestly, it made you wonder if the reason Jennie was often so willing to share was because she recognized how hot her own roommates were. When you had that first run-in with Jisoo, she had alluded to a past with her that piqued your interest.
You couldn't help but wonder if she had a similar history with Rose, but from the way she was rambling on, it didn't seem like it.
"Take off your pants."
"Uh, excuse me?"
Her sudden demand was enough to break you from your thoughts and look at her in utter confusion. Rosie, however, didn't share your confusion and was looking at you with an expectant gaze, one hand on her hip.
"Were you listening to anything I said? Take off your pants."
You were a little afraid to admit that you hadn't, in fact, been listening to anything she had said and were instead admiring her body the whole time. Rosie seemed like she wanted to be in control, and if you didn't listen, you couldn't help but feel like some sort of punishment was coming. "Alright, alright."
You followed her orders, taking off your pants as she instructed. It was somewhat surreal. Between Jisoo and even Jennie, who could be quite demanding when she got in the mood, you had never been ordered around in this way. And the fact that it was Rosie who was the one doing it was even more surreal. You never would have guessed. Maybe that was why you found yourself getting aroused despite her harsh words.
"Those too," Rosie gestured dismissively at the striped boxers you stood in.
You would have questioned if she was serious, but the expectant look on her face was all the answer you needed to make short work of your last piece of clothing. You couldn't remember the last time you were self-conscious while nude, and yet you were anxiously awaiting Rose's judgment as you stood before her.
"She wasn't lying..." Rose muttered under her breath.
Her voice had lost the commanding edge it had up to this point, almost sounding somewhat shocked.
"What was that?" you asked.
"W-what?" Rose blinked as if shaken from a trance. "N-nothing! Shut up! Or else!"
"Alright, alright, sorry! I was just asking."
You shifted your stance slightly, trying to get comfortable. It was a new sensation. Standing there, now fully nude, and under Rosie's scrutinizing gaze. It didn't help that she seemed particularly transfixed on your cock as she contemplated her words. Part of you was wondering if she had thought this all the way through. She certainly didn't take charge the way Jennie did, but in fear of her lashing out again, you kept any further questions to yourself.
"Here's what's going to happen," Rose started. Her voice still lacked a certain confidence, but you were curious where she was going with this. "You're going to get on your knees. If you can satisfy me, then I'll keep the secret you have with Jennie and Jisoo."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I'll tell everyone."
You swallowed hard at that threat. A part of you wanted to call her on her bluff. You still doubted she'd publicly tarnish her friend's careers. But there were other steps she could take just short of that. Still, there was another motivating factor that was stronger than Chaeyoung's threat: you wanted to succeed. You wanted to feel Chaeyoung’s thighs clenching around your head as she came. Most importantly, you wanted to show her that she didn’t have to be jealous of Jennie and Jisoo.
"Well, when you say it like that, it doesn't sound like I have much of a choice..." you said.
"You don't," she emphasized.
From the curt way she snapped a response, you could tell that Rose was regaining her previous composure and feeling more confident about her position. Good. That worked perfectly for your plan and would make her eventual downfall even sweeter. For now, you'd continue to play the role she expected of you.
"A-alright. Just, you promise not to tell anyone about any of this?" you questioned one last time.
"Really?" Chaeyoung blinked at first, as if not expecting you to submit. She quickly recovered. "I mean, that depends on how well you perform."
"Okay..." You continued to play the role of someone who was defeated despite internally brimming with confidence. "So, where do you want to do this?"
"The living room."
"Out in the open?" Your voice held a surprised tone.
"Yes, out in the open. Right where one of your girlfriends might catch you," Rosie replied.
You didn't know for sure, but you could have sworn there was a hint of jealousy in her voice when she said that.
"Alright," you conceded, not putting up a fight again. "If that's what you want. Though you'll have to get out of those."
You gestured to the clothes she was still wearing. She still had on her sports bra and running shorts. And while you could still work with the sports bra, you'd have to get rid of those shorts to do what she wanted you to do. Pointing it out also made you acutely aware of your own nudity which you now realized must have been purely for her own curiosity or some kind of domination play by her.
Chaeyoung gave you an annoyed look, displeased that you had pointed out something she had forgotten. This time, though, she didn't chastise you, instead merely hooking her fingers into the waistband of the shorts and pulling them down her long legs. The reveal showed that she wasn't wearing any panties underneath. You smirked, wondering just how long she had planned for this moment to happen.
"What's that look for?" Chaeyoung snapped.
"Oh, nothing."
"You probably think this will be easy because you already seduced Jisoo and Jennie, don't you?" she taunted.
"Well, I haven’t heard any complaints so far. I think I’m more than capable," you admitted.
Your smug response seemed to work as intended. Chaeyoung’s pretty face scrunched up in irritation. Without further comment, Chaeyoung moved to the sofa, seating herself in it and reclining back. As she did so, she spread her legs, exposing her pussy to your sight for the first time. Your heart skipped a beat, cock instinctively stirring to life in response. The singer didn't have to tell you to get on your knees as you did so of your own volition, if only to get closer to paradise.
"You're already wet for me," you noted, almost in a trance.
"S-shut up!" Chaeyoung snapped again, a hint of embarrassment in her tone as her cheeks turned crimson. Still, she didn't deny it. Instead, she tried to regain her position of power in the situation, "I suggest you get to work if you want to finish before the others get back."
You briefly wondered if she had considered the outcome where you wanted Jennie and Jisoo to discover you. While she might be initially annoyed at Chaeyoung's antics of going behind her back, you could see Jennie ultimately finding joy in this new discovery. She might even take it upon herself to initiate her bandmate into your little relationship. Jisoo might be the only one who wouldn't want this to be discovered. Or at least, not her part in being the one to spill the beans to Rosie in the first place. That would undoubtedly earn her another punishment from Jennie.
Stowing that thought aside for the moment, you returned to the task at hand. You would have Chaeyoung spraying on your tongue, and then there would be a world of potential.
You leaned closer to her sex, swallowing a comment asking if she had shaved just for you. That was likely to rile her up even more than she already was. Instead, you ran your tongue along her outer folds. Her scent was strong, the taste of her juices already beginning to fill your senses. A moan left the blonde, one hand moving to press against the back of your head.
You continued to tease her, tongue tracing around her inner walls, occasionally prodding deeper inside of her. She let out a sharp gasp each time, her body arching. Her hips rolled towards you, seeking out more.
"S-stop teasing..." she groaned.
You grinned, "I'm just doing what you asked."
"D-Don't be a smartass!" Rosie snapped.
She pushed your head back into her crotch, and you returned to the task with an air of smugness. It was really too easy to rile her up. You sucked at her clit, intent on giving Chaeyoung your full attention now. If she wanted you to stop teasing, then you'd give her the best orgasm she'd ever experienced.
You felt her nails digging into your scalp, a moan leaving her. The hand pressing against your head pushed and pulled, her hips rocking in sync with the actions. She was moaning openly now, no attempt at hiding what was occurring. Given she was the one who wanted this to be in the living room, you shouldn't have been too surprised. Though you did wonder if Chaeyoung had an exhibitionist streak to her.
As you continued to eat her out, her hand moved under her top, squeezing her breast. "That's right. T-this is all you're good for. You're just h-here for us to use -- fuck -- use you as we want, you understand?"
"Mmhm," you moaned against her pussy, the vibrations making her gasp.
She didn't quite have the same amount of conviction that Jennie had when it came to such derogatory bedroom talk, but there was potential there. Besides, you were already horny enough to humor her without calling out the stutters she made.
You were starting to realize that there was a bit of an underlying fantasy at play here. Chaeyoung was enjoying the domination aspect of this, but there was another part that was playing in her mind. One you would have no qualms playing along with. Usually so sweet and friendly, she was finally getting to live out her sexual fantasies as her fingers gripped your head tightly.
"I-I guess I see why Jennie likes you so much now," Chaeyoung moaned. "With that kind of tongue... And Jisoo too. I bet y-you're just their obedient pet."
If only she knew the truth, you thought.
You didn't respond verbally but instead redoubled your efforts, your tongue working at her clit with a new vigor. Your fingers joined in the orchestra, slipping two digits inside of her to further push her towards that precipice. You could hear her breathing becoming shallower, the telltale signs that she was getting closer. Rosie seemed to realize it as well as you felt her fingers claw against your skull, almost trying to push your mouth off of her sex.
"N-no, wait, it's too soon," she moaned, despite her hips bucking into your mouth.
But it was too late. You had the advantage and you weren't going to let it go. Not until every muscle in her tight, lithe body went limp from a mind-numbing orgasm.
"Fuck," Chaeyoung stuttered, "fuck you. Cheating...bastard..."
You had never heard the singer be quite that vulgar before and took it as a small victory. You were just giving her what she wanted. It just so happened it had been more than what she could take and as her body shuddered she knew she was losing control of the situation.
As far as you were concerned, you had played this fair and square.
"Oh god!" she gasped, thighs locking around your head as her hips bucked, riding your face.
Her juices flooded your mouth as she rode out the wave of pleasure brought on by her orgasm. Her body quaked on the sofa, her nails digging into your skull as she held your hair tighter than before. Had you not been lapping at her juices, you might've savored the sight. You stayed locked in that position for several moments, letting her ride out the aftershocks. It was only when you felt her body go limp that you finally pulled your head back.
The look on your face was nothing short of shit-eating smugness. Who could blame you? The arrogant woman who had threatened to expose your relationship to the world sat utterly spent and dazed. Her thighs glistened with her release, her hand still shoved under her top lazily. Her head reclined against the cushions, a glazed over haze in her eyes as her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.
Looking at her like this, you couldn't help but feel proud and accomplished. Especially considering how haughty Rosie had been trying to act leading up to this.
"You know, if you needed an orgasm so bad, all you had to do was ask," you teased. "I'm sure Jennie would be willing to share."
Chaeyoung only nodded dumbly, unable to maintain her bristling act that she had before nor comment in agreement. Your cock was aching between your legs, and the idea of splitting her in two until she screamed your name was enticing. However, that would have to wait.
"You should probably get dressed before they come back. Unless you want them to find out," you teased her before moving to gather your own clothing, your mission seemingly accomplished.
What followed next played out almost as you imagined. Naturally, you didn't keep the rendezvous a secret, informing Jennie of what had taken place during a long bath. After a punishment which involved a few ropes and a vibrator, she gave her consent to have Chaeyoung join your relationship. Jisoo, notably, remained silent during the whole ordeal. You'd make sure to tease her later and get something out of it, knowing that she was the one who had spilled the beans.
For now, though, life was good.
"You know," you said, as you lay in bed, your head resting on Jennie's lap as Jisoo and Rosie slept soundly on either side of you, "It might get a little awkward the three of you being involved in this with one excluded."
Jennie hummed in response, her fingers stroking through your hair, "Maybe you're right. We might have to change that."
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lokisgoodgirl · 8 months
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An Offering [Asgard! Loki x Fem.Reader]
A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki's lack of carnal exploits have caused chaos in Asgard- and something must be done. (w/c 2.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki POV. Smut. Language. Ridiculous lore.
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Loki’s eyes scanned the lines on the page, uncrossing his ankles before immediately crossing them again.
He was restless. His manhood twitched as he re-read words he had missed in one endless, sprawling sentence. An annal of the wars of Muselpheim. It was the least erotic tome in his personal collection. These days, it didn’t take much.
He cast a glance out the window, wondering what carnage his unspent power was causing at the present time. Had a ghostly tidal wave risen and washed out the harbour town? A curse which made food taste like ash? An unfamiliar steed trotting through the mountain villages with an insatiable appetite for the bemused inhabitants worldly goods?
Loki didn’t know. All he knew was that he didn’t want to see anyone.
It was humiliating. His mother’s voice filled his ears against his will, the memory making his ears burn. You must copulate with someone Loki. Anyone; she had said calmly, her cheeks faintly pink. Chaos is building within you, if it is not released...naturally – then your seidr will find a way to expel itself in other ways,’
Loki shook his head, the familiar clench of embarrassment twisting in his stomach. A belch of smoke began twisting skyward in the distance from the market. It was green. He sighed, shutting the book on his lap and placing it to the side of the window-seat. If he concentrated, he could feel magic leaking from his pores like sweat. It bubbled through the air around him, the faint scent of tart spiced lemongrass following him around. Taunting him. Chaos.
And it would only get worse. “What am I to do with you?” he mumbled, staring down at his crotch. It stirred in response.
“Ah, yes, but you see, we want the same thing-” he crooned, as if to a friend. Or indeed, a foe. “The way they talk they would have me thrust you upon any diseased cretin from the alleys by the square.” He looked out the arch, the heavy emerald smog beginning to settle over half of Asgard. “But we are better than that,” he muttered.
A low chorus of coughing had begun to rise and echo around the high towers of the citadel. Loki grimaced. “I do hope it’s not poisonous,” he mumbled to himself.
There was a knock at the door. “Gods…” Loki sighed, letting his head fall back against the wall in frustration. Will they not let me alone.
It had become abundantly clear months ago that taking care of his sexual gratification by hand was not sufficient to quell the tide of magical energy coursing through his veins. Flesh, was what was required. A second heartbeat. An offering of the basest kind.
The instances of chaotic overspill had started small – batches of grain turning to sand, mirrors losing their reflection in the palace; but as the need for release grew, so did his frustration.
There was a reason that his familiar bedfellows had fallen out of favour. He caused too much angst. Too much heartbreak, that much was clear. They were satisfied for a time, but tormented in their limbo for his affection. Or his title. But they could never be her. He could see it in their eyes, the realisation when they felt him leave their cooling beds. It was not their fault.
He could not have her. She did not know or care of his existence, not really. Not outside of his garishly rouged face on a mural. Loki was not interested in breaking hearts. Not anymore. Especially his own. And as time when on, and the leakages grew in strength – people were afraid. There was that, too.
The knock came again. With an exasperated exhale, Loki rose. He crossed the room, smoothing his palms down the front of his tunic. Hooking one thumb in the low slung belt around his hips, he tried his best to look menacing as he opened the door. “What do you-”
The frown of annoyance melted to confusion as he ran his gaze over the waiting form in stunned silence. A woman, her face dipped in a light curtsey. Soft tendrils of hair fell around her collarbone like a nymph. “Your highness.” she spoke, keeping her head down. Loki tilted his head. How curious, he pondered as he reached out and gently tipped the woman’s chin up. His breath hitched at the unexpected sultry darkness of her eyes. Familiar. Impossible. “What are you doing here?” he murmured warily, casting a glance around the otherwise empty corridor. “Don’t you know it is dangerous to-” “May I come in, your highness?” she said softly. Loki frowned at the audacity of her interruption. But there was no hint of fear in her lilt, which he respected – and so the god found himself stepping aside.
The hem of her gown rustled on the stone floor, sweeping in a grand circle as she turned to face him. It was cream, the fastening at her bosom which ran down the centre of its length trimmed in the same dark green as the thick smoke currently blocking out the sun. Loki shivered.
“It has been decided that I am to be an offering,” she said haughtily. Her chin was held high, a beacon of poise and cold elegance. Norns, how Loki wanted to ruin her.
But he wouldn't. He shouldn't. Not her.
He stared back in slack-jawed disbelief, before bursting into laughter. He could feel his stomach clench, the peals of mirth taking a greater hold than the situation deserved. But it had been a while since Loki had laughed, among other things.
“My a-a-apologies,” he gasped, extending a hand to pat down her tangible offence. The lady’s arms had folded, a waft of malice washing over the god like a current. He collected himself, smoothing his hair as she looked on. “It’s not you, you are…” he looked the woman up and down, “lovely. Truly. I just...did not expect my family to stoop so low as to enact a farce such as this.”
The woman began to pace in a wide circle, her finger inspecting the wide wooden curve of his bed-frame. She paused, her chin tilting towards him with a wicked glint in her eye.
“It was my idea, actually” she said, beginning to smile as Loki shuffled where he stood. “Your brother took some convincing, but I think that is only since he had eyes for me himself.”
Loki could not find the words. “The armoury cache has turned to salt, you know” she chirped, smiling while she continued an achingly slow tour of his chambers. Loki groaned inwardly as she peered at the books on the nearest shelf, ghosting a fingertip over the spines.
“You have no idea how difficult it is to get a Prince’s attention,” she hummed. “Especially when he locks himself away and denies the ladies of the court an opportunity to flaunt themselves. Desperate action must be taken,” she purred playfully, the fragrant twinge of stinging sarcasm inflaming Loki’s arousal. Was she jesting? A cruel, elaborate trick? Loki decided he must be dreaming.
He cleared his throat, painfully aware of his cock hardening beneath his trousers. Of all days, why had he chosen the satin?
“You are here of your own free will, then?” he managed to say. She nodded, a closed lipped smile pressing against her cheeks. His eyes were drawn to the heave of her cleavage, rising and falling in anticipation before they rose back to her face. Her lips.
"It is a grave offence to lie to a god of Asgard, my lady" he warned, painfully aware of the slowing breaths making his voice thick. He could feel his tongue move, yet the words seemed to belong to another.
“They say it could be dangerous,” she said matter-of-factly, ignoring his ominous overtones. “-Fucking you, I mean.” Loki stared. He was fully hard now, the urge to free himself and have the woman against the nearest bookcase almost overwhelming. She raised her eyebrows, a mischievous smirk curling at the edge of her mouth. “Personally, I think it’s all rather exciting. Don’t you?” “You’re mad,” Loki mumbled, realising with surprise that he was already halfway across the floor. The woman let out a low tinkling laugh, resting an elbow on the shelf. “You’re one to-” Loki’s lips collided with the siren, crashing against her mouth like a tempest. She parted for him, wild hands twisting in his hair as he pressed her against the wood. Her moans of excitement, her breathy pants into his mouth as he caged her. Loki was undone.
His tongue wrestled hers, hands exploring the curves of her body that bucked against his touch. Meaningless words gasped from his lips as her palm slid harshly against his cock, mastering the slide and squeeze along its length.
“Bold, my Prince-” she teased, as his throat worked in grunts and swallows beneath her touch.
“I take nothing which was not already offered, my lady” he keened, thrusting against her hand. Their lips met again, deep curls of muscle enveloping the other in wet need. “And not all which is offered, either” he groaned against her ear. “Not yet.” The woman chuckled, sliding her hands up the velvet of his tunic. She pushed him lightly, making him stumble back like a feather. The backs of his knees hit the bed, falling and landing on the pristine sheets with a bounce.
“Take it then,” she uttered, laden with ceremony. Her eyes smouldered, wild waves falling around her face. Fingertips worked invisible buttons at the bodice of her dress, the middle section of green parting before she shrugged it from her body. Loki gripped the sheets, thighs trembling. “It is here, for you...my Prince.” Loki wet his lips, hungry eyes staggering up every perfect inch of her naked body. Mapping the trail his fingers would take as he sank into each delicious curve. The god felt his thighs widen, the tight trousers he wore an unbearable constraint. With a flex of his fingers, he was as naked as she. “Norns,” she whispered, her eyes wide. She began to pace towards him, a sudden goddess of love and peace and salvation. “You’re even more beautiful than they say.”
Loki barely heard her, transfixed by the supple legs which now straddled him on the edge of his bed. With a sharp intake of breath he let his hands run over the curve of her ass, squeezing gently. In turn, her fingers wrapped around the root of his cock, tugging as she breathed against his cheek.
“How long I have waited for this,” she murmured softly. Loki groaned. He fell back, bringing her with him in an animalistic kiss. He was being rough, he knew that. But he could barely control the deafening roar of unnatural lust. It flowed from him in waves, a roar of static crisping in the air.
“If you feel you are in danger, leave – immediately,” Loki gasped, throwing his head back with a moan while she ground against him. His mussed hair fanned against the sheets. He could feel the well of magic pulsing inside him with the beat of his cock. Like a drum, louder and louder in his ears. “You need this,” she panted, “we all do.”
Loki was tortuously aware of his manhood dancing at the tight slit of her entrance. He felt as a hound did, told to stay itself before a feast table. She moved it in circles, lapping up her wetness. The god groaned again, lips parted to the ceiling. “For Asgard,” she murmured coyly, before sinking fearlessly onto his cock. The cry which strangled itself from Loki’s throat shook books from the shelves. A ripple reverberated from the bed, making stone from the high arches crumble in dusty clouds.
His eyes flew open, and he knew from the reflection in her own that they were dark as a lemurs. The pupils drowning out any colour in his irises; wide. Wild.
Hands flew to her hips and pushed her down as he thrust up, bottoming out. A ringing cry sounded around his chambers. “Good...girl,” he smouldered darkly, an empty echo of past affairs. “Uhhh...y-yes- good girl.” Loki heard his own voice in singular clarity. As rich and foreboding and potent as a tangled forest by moonlight. There was a squelch as he withdrew, before flipping her over. She lay below him now, her features alight with desire and self-satisfaction. Her pretty moans tickled the air as he filled her sweet little cunt to the hilt. Each slap of his hips scraped the bed further across the floor. Ancient mahogany screeching on rough stone. Had sex always felt this good? Loki couldn’t recall.
All he knew was he needed to fuck to the edge of oblivion. Her fingertips dug into the taut flesh of his ass, pulling him deeper. Loki hissed, curls swinging wild over his brow. Flames nested in the torches hung on the walls snuffed out, plunging the room into inky blackness. All that remained, while the cloud of his unspent lust blocked out the sun, was her body. This temple that would restore him. Loki sucked down, teeth grazing a bruising kiss into her shoulder. “Loki,” she whined, moaning like a whore. “More-” And Loki complied. He hoisted her legs over his shoulders. “My benevolent offering,” he muttered in barbed desire, sliding his wet cock inside her inch by tantalising inch. Loki’s eyes rolled back as he hit bottom. Consecration, surely. The torch flames came roaring back to life, licking the very ceiling above them in a tidal wave of primordial heat. The woman gasped, her pussy tightening. More dust fell from the archways, specks swimming in the air as the god punctuated every thrust with a filthy curse known only to he.
She exploded upwards, hooking her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to hers. Their bodies writhed with devilish rhythm, each fluid buck of Loki’s hips making emerald stars explode in a dreamy haze above their heads before melting to nothing. “I’m close,” she panted, tightening her thighs around his hips. Loki growled, his breathing heavy. He could feel the animal inside him rear. The bull. The wolf. The serpent. Ready to feast upon her pleasure like a wasted demon. He pressed down, tugging her clit with slow, wicked waves of his hips.
With a howl of his name, the woman came undone beneath him; her hair sprawled and spilling over the bed’s edge like a sacrifice. The room began to shake. Or was it the palace? Loki didn’t know. Trinkets fell to the floor, smashing. Crashing sounded from the next room, plates, jars of ink splattered like dried blood on the stone. Ancient tomes thudded with morose cracks, a sound which at any other moment would fill the god with despair. But not at this moment.
Every muscle in his body was tensed, primed to detonate. His balls tightened as they slapped her skin, the thundering surge of magic in his body threatening to burst in uncontrollable chaos.
He couldn’t. It was too much, too dangerous. Suddenly her fingers clasped around his jaw, drawing his gaze to hers. It was dreamy. Happy. It was trusting. And brave. That too.
“My Prince,” she whispered softly; a calm in the storm. “Cum for me.” He pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing becoming steadier. The fingernails of her free hand scratched gently between his shoulder-blades, down the curve of his spine.
Loki savoured the heat of her body beneath his, the unrelenting grip of her channel around the root of the realms woes. She worked him fearlessly, lilting her hips up to meet the base of his cock with rhythmic grace. “For me,” she repeated, before placing a gentle kiss over his parted lips. She sucked the bottom one as it released. Loki’s mind was blinded by light. Shuddering, incapacitating pleasure searing through his body as his world went dark.
Orgasm ripped through him like torn leather; fierce and merciless and raw. It rose in an eruption, consuming and obliterating and remaking him as he spent himself inside her.
A shimmering pulse of power emanated from the bed, spreading and rippling through walls as the whole of Asgard felt the release cascading from his veins. From his cock. An aftershock that would be felt through the realm. The god's face was contorted with pleasure. A thick, shaking gasp of exhausted relief was all he could muster as he collapsed in a heap beside his saviour. Moments passed. But truly, it could have been an age.
“Did I say anything?” he panted, utterly spent. “I just felt...-” “-my name,” you finished, running a hand up his chest.
You dragged your fingernails gently down his stomach, sighing happily as the first licks of sunlight appeared through the clearing smog. “I didn’t know you knew it.” “Of course I do,” he murmured. A veil of sleep began to descend while he inhaled the scent of your sex damp hair. Was this a dream?
If it was, Loki hoped he would never dream another.
He turned to you with a lazy smile, eyelashes heavy with the bliss of it all. He was free. And she was here. Her. You. “I did not think you knew mine," he said quietly, before sleep took him.
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Swap!: Hazbin Hotel
-Explosion sends a tidal wave of red, green, purple, blue, and pink dust throughout the hotel. Glitter sparkles amongst the wreckage-
???: *cough-cough* Is everyone alright?
???: Yeah *cough* I'm good. I think.
???: Who the fuck lit off a max glitter bomb?! *cough-hack*
-Dust settles-
Vaggie: What the fuck was that? (pulls a bottle out from the bar and starts slugging)
Lucifer: *gasp* Vaggie! I thought we both agreed that we wouldn't drink in front of the guests!
Vaggie: (raises an eyebrow) What the fuck are you talkin' about? I'm Husk, dumbass.
Lucifer: ......Husk? (looks down at themselves) WHY AM I WEARING MY DAD'S SUIT?!?!?!
Angel: Whoa! Is this what it's like being tall? I LIKE it!!! (sees Lucifer freaking out) Holy Fuck am I short!!!!
Charlie: (checking herself out in the mirror) Hoo-hoooooh, I could definitely get used to this. You sure got the rockin' bod, Toots. I bet you'd look pretty sexy in a little piece of risqué lingerie. (kitty cat claws at the mirror) Me-ow~
Lucifer: (Charlie) Angel, I swear to all of Hell! If you do anything inappropriate in my body!
Charlie: (hops up onto the bar and crosses her legs with a dramatic kick) Whaaaaat? I wouldn't do anything. (wraps arms around Vaggie-Husk's neck) Nothin' outta the usual anyway. Hey, baby, wanna meet me up in the bedroom and get a little re-aqcuainted?~
Vaggie: (Husk) No. (walks away)
Charlie: (falls to the ground) Dammit!!! I was hopin' to get some juicy pics!
Alastor: (suddenly very green, still smiling, and holding his hand to his mouth like he's about to throw up) Alastor! Hrk! When was the last time you- oh god... -you brushed your fucking teeth?! You pompous, cheesy, talkshow, shitlor- FUCK!!! I'M GONNA PUKE!!! (rushes to the nearest potted plant and vomits)
Lucifer: (gasp) Vaggie!!! (rushes to her trapped girlfriend)
Husker: (twirling his tail like a cane and sounding like an old radio) Now, is that really any way to talk about someone, dear? I'm almost insulted.
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eoieopda · 8 months
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OMGGGGG PLSSSSS your vernon fic is so good!!!!! your writing did not disappoint 😭 hope to read more vernon fics from you in the future 🫡
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eeeee thank you!! 🥹 i’m sure there will be more bc that NPC is wrecking the shit out of me lately, lmao.
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venusacrossthestars · 1 month
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a choice I can live with
Summary: you thought that after that night in Monaco you would never see Carlos Sainz again. but what do they say? when one door closes another door opens.
Pairing- Carlos Sainz x fem!reader
WC-10,182
warnings- swearing, making out, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end, angst, Lando is more of an ass than he was in part one, reader is in her feels, the word slut is used.
this is a part 2 to 'a choice I don't want to make' read it HERE before reading this part
F1 masterlist
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December 2021
You didn't like this foreign feeling that was settled in your stomach. All you were trying to do was pick out a movie while your popcorn cooled down, so why did it all feel so wrong? Sighing, you turned off the TV and placed the remote on the coffee table. It was Lando’s turn to pick the movie. The thought washed over you like a tidal wave. Suddenly the aspect of having a movie night no longer sounded appealing. Picking up the popcorn bowl from the coffee table, you walked over to the trash can and threw away the popcorn. Just like 15 years of friendship.
You plopped back down on your couch, sinking into the cushions. The last time you had seen Lando had been that night in Monaco; the last time you had any contact with him was when you sent him that text the following morning. That was in May. You knew that he saw your message, the taunting little ‘read’ underneath had only made you feel worse. As if it wasn’t the consequences of your own actions.
The past 6 and a half months had been miserable. Every time you had exciting news you found yourself thinking- ‘I can’t wait to tell Lando!’ only to remember that you couldn’t. You could barely talk to your own mother without feeling more guilt over the situation. You could feel her disappointment through the phone. As your mother, she was on your side, she told you as much, but it wasn’t without a disappointed sigh. 
You had other friends, you had a world that didn’t revolve around your now ex-best friend but sometimes it didn’t feel like it. However, the couple of times that you had braved stalking Lando’s socials you couldn’t help but feel as if he never needed you. Maybe that was the truth. 
You could face Lando’s socials, and you could manage the tweets and comments you saw about him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to check Carlos’s. Maybe it was the fear of seeing that he moved on. Maybe it was that he seemed perfectly fine. That was something you were comfortable staying in the dark with. 
A knock on the door startles you out of your pitiful self-deprecating spiral. You silently groan, it was too late to be dealing with people. Maybe it was one of your neighbor's friends who got the numbers mixed up and if you stayed silent they would realize. The universe must really have it out for you because the knocking continued, louder and more insistent than before. Getting up, you shuffled to the door taking a quick peek through the peephole. The face on the other end had you quickly undoing the chain and unlocking the deadbolt. 
“Carlos?” 
“Hi.” Is the only thing that Carlos says. 
You rub your eyes, making sure that he wasn’t an illusion, that you haven’t gone mad in these past months. When you bring your hands away from your eyes and re-open them, Carlos is still there standing in front of you with a bouquet of white tulips.
Carlos breaks the silence, “These are for you,” he holds out the bouquet, “I was told that white tulips represent an apology and forgiveness.” 
“Forgiveness?” You parrot back, not taking the flowers. Why is giving you flowers that represent an apology and forgiveness? “What are you apologizing for?” 
Carlos rocks back and forth on his heels, ignoring your question, “Can I come in?” 
You move away from the door frame and hold the door wider allowing for Carlos to enter. Embarrassment washes over you as you come to the realization that this is the first time Carlos has been in your flat, and while it didn’t look like a total disaster, you certainly wish it was cleaner. 
“What are you apologizing for?” You ask again. 
Carlos spins to face you, “Do you have a vase for these?” 
“Carlos,” you try again, “what are you doing here?”
Carlos wanders towards your kitchen, “Like I said, I am here to apologize.” He waves the flowers around. 
“What are you apologizing for?” 
“All of it. For letting Lando talk to you like that. For letting you leave with him. For letting you walk away that night on the roof. For not responding back to your text. I’m mostly sorry for how long it took me to come see you, to come talk to you.” 
“Carlos, you don’t need to apologize. For any of it.” 
“It takes two to tango.” He points out.
“It’s been 6 and a half months Carlos, you should move on.”
“Have you?”
That simple question was all it took for you to break. Honestly, you should have been able to move on. You should’ve been able to leave this whole situation back in Monaco. So why were your feelings for Carlos just as strong as they were back then? Even after your attempt to cut him out of your life he still stood here in your flat with a bouquet of flowers, apologizing for not coming to you sooner. 
“I haven’t,” you whisper, not trusting your voice.
Carlos sets the flowers down on the counter and moves in front of you. You avert your gaze to the ground, knowing that if you looked him in the eyes there would be no stopping the tears. 
Carlos doesn’t let you. His hand gently moves your chin so that you are looking him directly in the eyes. He doesn’t say anything about your tears, he only moves to wipe them away and unlike that night in Monaco, you let him. His hands are still surprisingly soft, just like that night the two of you kissed. 
He moves his hands away and you nearly sob at the loss of contact but before you can say anything Carlos is pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around your middle, hands sprawled out across your back. It takes you a second to register what is happening but once you do you are quick to mirror his motions. 
You bury your head into his chest and close your eyes. There is something about being wrapped in Carlos’s arms that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay. You take in a shaky breath. You haven’t been this happy to see someone in a long time and that simple thought is what causes you to break out in sobs. 
Carlos tries to pull away, presumingly to ask you if everything is okay, but you are quick to pull him back into your embrace. “Just hold me. Please.” You manage out between sobs. 
“As you wish.” 
You don’t know how long you stand in the middle of your kitchen in Carlos’s arms, and frankly, you don’t care. The soothing circles Carlos rubs on your back and the gentle swaying of both your bodies is enough to make you calm down. 
“Do you want to sit down?” Carlos pulls away, hands still holding your arms. 
You nod, leading him into your living room, and you sink into your couch. Carlos sits directly next to you, close enough to where both of your thighs rest against each other. “I’m sorry,” you begin, “I didn’t mean to get snot all over your shirt.” 
“No need to apologize.” 
“I’m sorry for more than that. I’m sorry too Carlos, for all of it. I never meant for any of this to happen.” 
“Stop,” Carlos puts his hand up and you close your mouth. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. That night I was hurt, I didn’t stop to think what it was like in your shoes. I'll never know what it is like to have my supposed ‘best friend’ tell me to pick between two important people in my life. I've never been in that position.” 
“Carlos,” you begin but he stops you again. 
“I spoke to Lando the next day, right after you texted me. I was furious with him. How could someone call their best friend those things? How could he, the same man who told me that he wanted me to stay away from you because he wanted to protect you, flip a switch that easily? He showed me the message you sent and I felt my heart break more. Asking him to put all the blame on you? Asking him to not blame me when we were both responsible? Pinning all the blame on yourself just so that he and I could still be friends?” 
You knew that Lando had read your message but knowing that he had shown Carlos that same day made his lack of response hurt ten times more. “You talked to him? He showed you the message?” 
Carlos nods his head. “I should say I yelled at him that morning rather than talked. We’ve spoken a couple times since then but I can tell he is still furious.” 
You figured, Lando wasn’t one to let go of grudges easily. “I can’t help but miss him, even with what he said to me.” 
“And that’s okay,” Carlos comforts you, “he is -was- your best friend for a long time. I wouldn’t expect you not to miss him.” 
“This is the first winter break we’ve been apart since we met. I don’t know what to do.” You admit to Carlos.
Carlos rests a hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles across the material of your sweatpants. And you look at him with tears in your eyes. You are so sick of crying over this whole situation, you've wasted enough tears. 
“I don’t know what kind of traditions the two of you have but if you'd like, I was thinking we could make our own?” Carlos questions. You look at him with wide eyes and he continues, “I don’t want to replace him or those good memories but I think making our own would be fun.” 
“I would love that Carlos.” you smile at him. “There is one thing though. If this,” you point back and forth at the both of you, “is going to be a serious relationship, we need to take it slow.��� 
“How slow is slow?” 
“Why? Do you not want to take things slow?” You panic internally. Did he change his mind? 
Does he not want to take things slow? You know that his life is fast-paced so does slow just not work for him?
“No, no, no,” he hurries out sensing your panic, “Slow is fine, I’d wait a lifetime if you asked mi amor. I’m just asking because I want to kiss you.” 
“Oh.”
“Can I kiss you Hermosa?” Carlos asks in a whisper. 
You nod and Carlos closes the gap between the two of you. Unlike the last time the two of you shared a kiss this one was slower, sweeter but somehow more passionate. With closed eyes, you relished the feeling of his lips on yours even more so because you thought you would never experience this feeling again. 
Carlos pulls away after a moment and you open your eyes and glance at his swollen lips, a slight you’ll never get sick of. Overcome with emotion you launch yourself onto Carlos, pushing him on his back into the cushions of your couch. 
Shock is written all over his face, “Are you okay?” 
You shake your head, not trusting your voice and Carlos pulls you into his chest. Carlos’s hand runs over your head and after a moment of savoring the comforting gesture you speak up, 
“Thank you for coming to see me. I really thought I’d never see you again.” 
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 
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January 2022
Carlos wasn’t lying when he said that you wouldn't be able to get rid of him easily. The man was stuck on you like a popsicle on a hot summer day, not that you were complaining.
New Year’s came and went and Carlos insisted that he spend it with you. You argued that you weren’t doing anything fun, that you would probably be sleeping while everyone else was out ringing in the new year, and that he should go out and spend it with his friends. Carlos had refused, stating he rather be somewhere quiet celebrating with you. So the two of you had rang in the New Year together in your flat with a cheap bottle of champagne and poppers you set off on your balcony. 
It was only a few days later that, as you were making dinner, you got a call from Carlos. 
“Are you free this weekend?” Carlos asked as soon as you accepted the call. 
“Well, hello to you too Carlos,” you chuckle at his enthusiasm. 
“Hello mi amor, how are you this fine afternoon.” 
“I am spectacular, and how are you, Mr. Sainz?” You can’t help but break out in a smile, something you seem to do whenever you hear from Carlos.
“Good, however, I would be even better if you answered my question. Are you free this weekend?” 
“I think so, why?” 
“I want to take you out.” 
“Like on a date?” 
“Yes, like a date. I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t take my love on dates, wouldn’t I?” 
“Oh, I didn’t know we were officially boyfriend/girlfriend.” You tease, Carlos knew fully well how you felt about him. 
“Don’t play around with me.” 
“What were you thinking?” 
“I was thinking you’d come over to my place and I’d cook for you.” 
“Oh, I would love that but Carlos you don’t live in London.” It amuses you to have to point out that simple fact. 
“I know, that’s why I asked if you were free the entire weekend. I was going to fly you out to Madrid.” 
You freeze at his nonchalant attitude, to him this was a small little gesture and you can tell that he thinks nothing of it. You, on the other hand, were thinking way too much of it. 
“Carlos, I can't come to Madrid. I don’t have the money for it right now.” You say defeatedly, as much as you wanted to see Carlos you couldn't drop that type of money on a flight. 
“I think you missed the part where I said I would fly you out. You wouldn’t be paying for anything.” 
“Carlos, this isn’t how I want this relationship to be. I won’t be seen as a sugar baby.” You tell him seriously and all you can hear is him laughing over the phone. 
“Mi amor, you are not a sugar baby. You are my girlfriend. My girlfriend who I want to see and spend time with so desperately that I am offering her, as her boyfriend, to fly her to my home so she can spend time with me- her boyfriend.” 
You bite the skin around your nails carefully weighing your options. You want to see Carlos but on the other hand, you were worried. What if someone spots you? What if someone outed your relationship? You still wanted to take things slow and this was all moving a little fast for you. 
You voice your worries to Carlos and you hear him sigh over the phone, “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry mi amor.” 
“No, I’m sorry. I should be jumping at this opportunity. You want to spend time with me and here I am acting like a brat. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 
“Nothing is wrong with you. I need to respect your wishes. You have no need to apologize.” 
“I still feel bad.” 
“Don’t. There will be other opportunities.” 
“Are you sure?”
“Positive, do not worry about it. Listen I have to go, I will call you later okay?” 
“I’ll be waiting.” The two of you exchange quick goodbyes and you are then left alone with your thoughts. Saying yes wouldn’t have killed you, in fact, you should’ve said yes. So what if someone saw you and Carlos? Since when did you care what the rest of the world thought of you? 
You drop your head on the kitchen counter, lightly banging it muttering a quiet ‘stupid, stupid, stupid.’ Oh well, there was nothing you could do about it now. 
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Your Friday nights always play out the same way. You get home from work, take a quick shower, put on a pair of sweatpants (you’re pretty sure these were a pair of Lando’s from years ago) and a baggy top, order something, and watch a crappy movie.
You have only finished step 3 of your routine, about to start step 4 when there is a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone other than the delivery man but you hadn’t even placed your order yet, so if it was the Chinese place already you really needed to change up your diet. 
When you open your door you aren’t greeted by the greasy teenager who typically delivers your food, instead, you are greeted with a comfy-looking Carlos who has a backpack in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. 
“Carlos, what are you doing here?” 
“Are you not happy to see me?” He questions with a slight pout. 
“Of course, I’m happy to see you,” you reach across the threshold to grab his wrist and pull him into your flat, “I’m just surprised to see you here.” 
“I’m here to spend the weekend with my girlfriend and cook her dinner,” he proudly states, holding up the bag of groceries. 
You could melt into a puddle right there and then. “Carlos, you didn’t have to come all the way here.” 
A look of panic is now written all over Carlos’s face. “I’m an idiot.” You raise an eyebrow at his admission and gesture for him to spit the rest out. “You said you wanted to take things slow and here I am showing up without notice.” 
You wave your hands frantically, “You are not an idiot. I’m happy you’re here. Ever since I turned down your offer I’ve been thinking that maybe we don’t have to take things slow.” 
“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” 
“I am more than sure. I am sick of overthinking. Who cares what everyone else thinks of me?” 
Carlos’s look of panic is replaced by the biggest grin you have ever seen. He drops his backpack and groceries, his hands aren’t empty for long because the next thing you know you are being lifted in his arms and spun around. 
“Carlos!” you squeal out, not expecting to be picked up. 
Carlos sets you down gently and cups your face in his hands, you are then attacked by an onslaught of kisses. He kisses your cheeks, your lips, nose, and forehead. No part of your face is left untouched by his lips. 
You giggle at the sensation, “Carlos, Carlos,” you try to get his attention but he seems too lost in his own world. “Okay. Okay. Calm down, what has gotten into you?” 
“I’m just happy. Is that a crime?” 
You tap your chin in mock ponderance, “I suppose not.” 
Carlos closes the gap once more but this time instead of an onslaught of kisses he locks your lips with his in one long kiss. His hands haven’t moved from their spots on your cheeks this entire time. You can’t help yourself from grinning into the kiss, never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined this. 
Carlos pulls away and when he sees the smile that graces your face can’t help but ask, “What has gotten into you?” 
You giggle at his question and your reply is full of snark, “I’m just happy. Is that a crime?” 
It is Carlos’s turn to break into a fit of giggles and you wish that you could listen to that sound forever. “Okay. Okay.” You try to break the laughing spell that has fallen between the both of you. “What’s in the bag?” 
Carlos picks up the bag full of groceries and makes his way to the kitchen, “I’m glad you asked, it's all the ingredients I need to make my pancakes.” 
“You were serious about cooking for me?” 
“Of course I was, I want to spoil my girlfriend.” 
“I will gladly be spoiled. Do you want any help?” 
“No, you just sit and find a movie or a show to watch.” 
“I got the only show I need right in front of me.” You wink. 
Carlos laughs at your comment but doesn’t say anything else, too focused on making his pancakes. You have to help him a couple of times when he realizes he doesn’t exactly know the layout of where you keep all your mixing bowls, pans, and spatulas, amongst other things. But once he has all his materials you can almost see the switch flip to Chef Carlos. And while it is a bit shameful to admit, the sight does turn you on slightly. The way Carlos’s tongue slightly sticks out of his mouth in concentration. The way his arm flexes as he mixes the batter. Who would have thought that cooking would be so hot? Not you, that’s for sure. 
Carlos spares a few glances in your direction and every time you need to make sure you aren’t drooling all over your counter. Your time of ogling Carlos is cut short when he slides the plate of pancakes in front of you. 
“Any syrup or butter?” He asks. 
You shake your head, “No, I want to experience the pancakes without any interference.” You pick up your fork and knife and cut right into them. Carlos does nothing but watch as you bring a piece up to your mouth and take a bit. 
“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about knowing a pancake recipe,” you say with a full mouth. 
“Good?” 
“Good? Better than good, these are delicious,” you practically moan out. 
“Almost as delicious as the chef,” Carlos says with a smirk. His comment has you choking on the rest of your pancake. Carlos is quick to rush to your side, gently smacking your back. 
You hold up your hands signaling for him to stop, “I’m okay, I’m okay.” You take a sip of water, helping aid the rest of the pancake down. “You need to make these for me again. I don’t think I can ever go back to eating a normal pancake ever again. Not after tasting this slice of heaven.” 
“You’ll never have to eat a sad pancake ever again as long as I’m around.” 
“I want you around as long as you can stand me,” you tell Carlos truthfully. 
“Good, because I never want to be without you.” 
You can’t help but think the same, and it isn’t because of the pancakes.
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February 2022
It’s a week before Valentine's Day when you answer a FaceTime call from Carlos. 
“Did you see the car launch?” He asks. 
You have given up trying to get him to say hello every time you answered the phone, he was always too eager to talk to you. 
“I did. Looks beautiful, hopefully that corresponds to speed.” 
“We can only hope. I didn’t call to talk about the car.” 
“Well, you could’ve fooled me.” 
“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” 
“I am funny, you know this.” 
Carlos ignores your quip and instead asks, “Valentine’s Day, do you feel okay going out?” 
Ever since that night when Carlos showed up at your flat unannounced, he has been trying to communicate better. The two of you had your little inside dates- movie nights, cooking, board games, anything the two of you could do at home or over the phone you two have done. You had only gone out on a date once and that was over as quick as it started. Some fan spotted him and it was only a matter of time before his location was leaked. You didn’t want to hide your relationship but you also didn’t want it outed by some random F1 update page. You wanted to be the one who shared it with the world. 
It took you a moment to think about it and you didn’t want to spend your first Valentine’s Day in your flat. “I would love to go out,” you tell Carlos honestly. 
“Good, I made a reservation to this place I think you’ll love.” 
You smile having the perfect idea of how to mess with him, “Well what if I said no?” 
Carlos doesn’t seem at all phased, “Then I would’ve canceled the reservation.” 
You can’t argue with that logic. “What’s the dress code? Because I take it you aren’t going to tell me where we are going.” 
“You’ll be correct about that. Dress code,” Carlos pauses for a moment, “Wear something red.” 
You roll your eyes, “You are only saying that because you like seeing me in red.” 
“It is your color mi amor.” 
“Oh so I look bad in all other colors,” you challenge. 
“What has gotten into you today? So sassy.” 
“I don’t know. Maybe it's because I miss you.” 
“I’ll see you in less than a week, mi amor.” 
“I know, I know.” You pick at your nails. “I don’t know why, I just miss you more than usual this week.” 
“I miss you too,” Carlos admits. 
You go to say something but you are interrupted by another voice. “Carlos, Carlos,” a familiar Monégasque driver calls out. “Who are you talking to?” 
“My girlfriend,” Carlos replies nonchalantly. 
“Ooohhh,” Charles calls out, and before Carlos can react Charles shoves his entire face in front 
of the camera, your screen now filled with nothing but Charles. 
There were only a handful of people who knew that you and Carlos were together, Charles being one of them. When Carlos left McLaren for Ferrari, he had spilled the beans to Charles and you had learned that Charles was the one who kept pushing Carlos to come see you. So saying you were thankful for the Monégasque driver was quite the understatement. 
You giggle at his actions. “Hi, Charles. How are you?” 
“I’m doing great, how about yourself?” 
“Same old, same old.” 
“What are you two talking about?” 
“None of your business,” Carlos answers at the same time as you say, “Discussing Valentine’s Day plans.” 
“Valentine’s Day plan? What are you two lovebirds doing?” 
“Going out,” Carlos answers for you. 
“Ooooohhhh can I come with?” Charles asks. 
You snort at his question, “Don’t you have your own girlfriend to take out instead of third-wheeling on our night?” 
Charles says nothing and just gives you a blank stare, “Fine, be that way.” 
You roll your eyes at his childishness, “Don’t be such a baby.” 
“You’re younger than me!” 
“That makes it worse!” You exclaim. 
“Charles, did you need something or did you only come in here to bother us?” 
Carlos’s question seems to snap the other Ferrari driver back in focus, “Oh. Yes actually, we aren’t free from our media duties yet.” 
“Let me say goodbye then I’ll be back out.” 
Charles wishes you a quick goodbye and you are left alone with Carlos. “You have to go?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 
“Yes.” 
“The life of a Formula 1 driver never stops.” 
“You’d be right about that Hermosa.” 
“I’ll let you go, call me if you get the chance.” 
“Of course. I’ll see you soon mi amor, don’t miss me too much.” 
“I’ll try.” 
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It’s a week later on Valentine’s Day, and you had spent the majority of the day getting ready for your first real date with Carlos. But along with the butterflies in your stomach, there was also this unwelcome feeling of sadness. At first, you couldn’t place what it was but then it hit you like a truck. Lando didn’t send you any chocolates. You knew that the chances of him sending them were slim but for some reason, it really stung. Every year he sent you a box of chocolates, no matter where in the world he was, no matter what he was busy doing. And every year there was a note “You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms”, well you at least you still had your shitty rom-coms. You were excited for your date but that gloomy feeling was hard to get rid of and you knew that Carlos was bound to notice. 
“Wow,” is all that came out of Carlos’s mouth when you answered the door.
“I hope that’s a good wow,” you chuckle nervously. You had done what he asked, you were wearing red, more specifically the signature Ferrari red. While it wasn’t a hard color to match, you hoped that Carlos appreciated the sentiment. 
“Of course, mi amor. You look… amazing.” You smile at his lack of words. You don’t need him to tell you anything, you could tell what he’s thinking from his gaze alone. 
“Oh, these are for you,” Carlos hands you a bouquet of red roses and baby’s-breath along with a wrapped box of chocolates. 
“Thank you Carlos, we can share the chocolates later tonight.” You tell him as you walk back into your flat. Carlos shuts the door behind him and follows you into the kitchen as you rummage around for your good vase. 
“We’ll have to leave soon if we want to make the reservation,” Carlos says, checking his watch. 
“Alrightly, just let me grab my shoes.” You walk into your bedroom to grab your shoes. On your way you stop in front of the mirror to check your hair and make-up one last time. 
When you walk back out you notice Carlos staring at the pictures on your walls. As you move closer you can see the one in particular that he is staring at. 
“That’s when Lando and I first declared each other as best friends.” You say with a sad smile. “I don’t really remember it but I do know that we were at my house and my mom snapped the picture.” 
Carlos turned to face you but you continued to stare at the picture, jealous of how young and naive the two of you were back then. 
Carlos called your name and you were quickly snapped out of memory lane. “Are you okay?” His question laced with concern. 
You wave him off, “I’m fine.” Carlos gives you a look almost asking ‘are you sure’ and you are quick to spill your feelings of gloom. “I mean it’s silly and I knew what was going to happen.” 
“Knew what was going to happen?” 
“Every year Lando has either given or sent me a box of chocolates. At first I knew it was his mom forcing him to give them to me, but as we got older he knew that it was something that cheered me up, especially because I never got anything in school from the other boys. Then he would always include a note, ‘You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms’. Then I didn’t get anything this morning and I knew I wasn’t, but it makes it all more… I don’t know. Real? I guess? It’s stupid, I know I shouldn’t be complaining about not getting chocolates from another man when my insanely handsome boyfriend is standing next to me.” 
“Mi amor, I didn’t know he did that. That was sweet of him and I am sorry that he can’t grow up and accept that he isn’t in control of you. Even if he was your best friend you deserve to be loved and not be shunned for doing so.” 
You nod in agreement. Every time you feel at peace with the whole situation something like this happens and you are brought back to square one. 
“Well let’s get going. I don’t want this ass-hat to ruin anything else for us. Especially not tonight.” 
Carlos snorts at your insult and holds out his arm for you to take, you do so happily. 
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Carlos was nothing but a gentleman the entire time. He opened the car door for you, pulled out and pushed in your chair, and complimented you the entire evening. Sure these were all little things but they meant the world to you. The two of you were in your own little bubble the entire night, everything was so peaceful. 
However, it wasn’t until you and Carlos got back to your flat that your little bubble of peace was popped. You were busy finishing your skincare routine when Carlos called out your name. You walked into the living room and were met with the most domestic sight: Carlos sitting on your couch in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt scrolling through his phone. The sight brought a smile to your lips. 
“You called?” You asked, making your way over to the couch. 
As you take a seat next to Carlos, he hands you his phone and you are greeted with the familiar sight of Twitter. It takes you a second to make out the picture, the two figures in it are quite blurry but as soon as you read the caption attached to it your smile drops into a frown. 
‘New WAG alert? Carlos Sainz was seen looking comfortable with a mystery woman at a candle-lit dinner this Valentine’s Day. Will we be seeing more of her?
“Oh.” You aren’t surprised by the lack of privacy and you are well aware that this was bound to happen eventually, you just didn’t think that it would be the first time the two of you went out publicly. 
Carlos raises an eyebrow, seeming to have expected more than a one-worded response to the tweet he just showed you and you can’t help but shrug your shoulders in response. 
“You’re not upset,” he asks. 
“I mean a little, but it's not like I can do anything about it. We knew the risks before we went out and we were willing to take them. Are you upset?” 
“I am used to it,” Carlos admits, “It happens to me all the time, I just wished I was given the decency to go out with my girlfriend and have a nice private dinner.” 
You cuddle up into Carlos’s side and he is quick to abandon his phone and wrap his arms around you. “I don’t want anything to spoil this evening,” you tell Carlos, “so as long as those are the only pictures out there let's ignore them for now.” 
“I can do that. Now what movie do you want to watch?” 
“How about 10 Things I Hate About You?” 
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March 2022
The beginning of the 2022 season was right around the corner and every time you and Carlos talked he was always trying to sneak in a comment about you coming to Bahrain. He thought he was being so subtle with his comments that the look on his face when you asked him if he wanted you to come with him was priceless. 
“I thought I was being subtle.” You can hear his frown through the phone. 
You try to contain your laughter but the task is easier said than done, “Baby, you were as subtle as a bull in a china shop.” 
“But will you?” 
Ever since he first started hinting around, you weighed the pros and cons. You loved watching the races, you would be able to spend time with Carlos, you would be exploring a new country. All of these things were nice, but when you thought about the cons, they paled in comparison. If you went to Bahrain then your relationship with Carlos was definitely going to become public knowledge, and while that wasn’t a bad thing you weren’t completely sure if you were ready for the entire world of fangirls to also be a part of your relationship. There was one other thing that was making you hesitate- the idea that you would probably run into Lando. 
You couldn’t let that stop you though, so without putting any more negative thought into it, you told Carlos that you would love to go to Bahrain with him. 
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Walking through the paddock in Ferrari gear felt wrong but right at the same time. Carlos had insisted on providing you with all the possible merch you could imagine. The number 55 displayed proudly across your back, a Ferrari cap snug tightly around your head, a pair of Ferrari sunglasses Carlos had loaned you, and to your surprise a pair of Ferrari socks. You had nearly laughed when you took them out of your little handmade care package, you didn’t even know that Ferrari had socks it wasn’t like anyone was going to see them anyways. 
You were hesitant to wear it at first. Most of the other WAGs never wore team gear and when they did it certainly wasn’t to this extent, however, Carlos had put your mind at ease. He did love seeing you in red. 
You were well aware of all the cameras and more aware of all the people. Carlos had given you a clear set of directions on where to go and who to ask for so that you would be escorted to Ferrari hospitality without any complications. However, you had guessed Carlos had scrapped that plan and failed to tell you. Because standing right by the entrance to Ferrari hospitality was none other than Carlos himself. 
“Find everything okay?” He asked as you reached him. 
“I did, but this wasn’t a part of the plan.” 
“Well, I had time and saw your message. I wanted to be the first to greet you.” He leans in and kisses your cheek. 
“It’s a welcomed surprise.” 
“Come,” Carlos grabs your hand and interlocks it with his, “I want to give you the grand tour.” 
Carlos drags you around introducing you to everyone and you can’t help but feel extremely welcomed in your first -official- introduction into the world of Ferrari. Monaco might’ve been the first time but this experience was a much fonder one. 
Carlos spends as much time as he can with you, doing his best to make sure you felt welcomed. Eventually, he is forced to do his job and you watch the free practice in the comfort of Ferrari hospitality. 
Ever since Valentine’s Day you have avoided social media. Even when you were friends with Lando you never really interacted much with F1 Twitter and even less so now that the two of you weren’t talking. However, due to it being the beginning of the season F1 the sport was trending and out of pure boredom, you decided to brave the tweets. Most of them were predictions about the year, fans cheering on their faves, and even thirst tweets of seeing the drivers back in their cars once again. And who could forget the beloved gossip and update pages? Certainly not you, considering you were looking at your own face on one of the pages. 
You weren’t foolish enough to think that you were going to go undetected with Carlos, you were fully expecting it. That however did not lower the shock of seeing yourself on one of these pages. The tweet itself didn’t have many likes or retweets but it wasn’t the only one out there talking about you. And it wasn’t before long until you saw one captioning ‘Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris’s BFF spotted together entering the Ferrari garage’ and below it was a picture of you and Carlos hand in hand. That wasn’t what made your stomach flip, it was what was underneath the photo. Speculation as to why you didn’t have your yearly appearance on Lando’s Instagram. 
Of course they were right, there was no need to speculate when that is exactly the reason why, not that you were going to confirm their beliefs. You would have to tell Carlos about all of this on the way back to the hotel. No need to worry him when he should be focusing on the car and the season ahead of him.
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The two of you are lying on the bed in your shared hotel room watching some random movie that just happened to be playing when you turned on the TV while waiting for room service. You were snuggled into Carlos’s side, your hand resting on his chest. Carlos has one arm under your head, the other is scrolling through his phone. 
When you told him about what you saw on Twitter that afternoon he simply shrugged and said “Let them think whatever they want to think. It’s our relationship, not theirs. We don’t owe anyone anything.” 
You still had your concerns that Lando might do something but Carlos insisted while he was dumb, he wasn’t that dumb. But if he was to open his big mouth McLaren and Ferrari’s PR team could handle it. This was nothing to worry about. 
You’re half paying attention to the movie and half paying attention to the occasional funny tweet or whatever Carlos is showing you. A knock at the door causes you to shoot out of Carlos’s arms. “I’ll get it!” You call out to Carlos, excited to eat some real sustenance. 
You don’t even bother looking through the peephole before whipping open the door, a rookie mistake. Because who stands in front of you is not the room service delivery person with their little cart, no, the person standing in front of you is your ex-best friend. 
“Lando?” you ask in shock. 
“So I see what’s going around Twitter is true then?” 
You cross your arms over your chest, “Excuse you?” 
“I just had to see it for myself,” Lando sneers. 
Before you can respond Carlos comes up behind you. He’d gotten out of bed at the sound of 
Lando’s voice. “What are you doing here?” Carlos questions. 
“Oh I just saw some update and WAG pages saying that my best friend was spotted with no one other than the Carlos Sainz and I figured I would come see it with my own two eyes.” 
“We aren’t best friends anymore. Remember you told me I was throwing 15 years of friendship away?” You snap back. 
“You need to go,” Carlos gently guides you away from the door so that you are now standing behind him. You aren’t going to argue with that. All you wanted was to spend the night with your boyfriend eating room service while watching a crappy movie. You didn’t want to see Lando, let alone have this conversation. 
“Is this room 512?” Of course, now the room service shows up. 
“Yes,” Carlos answers. The gentleman looks between Carlos and Lando, “Don’t worry about him, he was just leaving.”
You peer around Carlos in time to see Lando stomp off down the hallway back to his own room. The room attendant drops the food off and leaves in a hurry, not that you blame him. 
You make your way back to the bed and curl in on yourself, Carlos is quick to follow. “I’m not hungry anymore,” your voice is muffled by one of the pillows. You feel the side of the bed dip behind you as Carlos sits to comfort you. 
“I can’t believe he showed up here. What is his problem? Do you want me to go talk to him?” 
The idea of Carlos talking to Lando nearly makes you throw up. “No, don’t bother. It’s not worth it.” 
“No,” Carlos says harshly, “He comes here, spews a bunch of bullshit and he thinks he can get away with it.” You roll yourself over so you can now look at Carlos. You’ve never seen him so mad, sure you saw him pissed off and frustrated at Monza a few years back but this, this was a whole different type of anger. 
“Carlos, as much as I would love for you to give him a piece of your mind, it’s not going to do anything. To him we're the bad guys, no matter how we try to explain ourselves. I’ve made peace with the fact that this is who he is. I think as long as this stays between the three of us and off the track it's best that we just leave it.” 
“That still doesn’t mean he can show up whenever he feels like it and start shit.” 
“I know, but you’ve said it yourself- he’s childish.” You can see the fight and anger leave Carlos’s body. “Besides, I want all your focus to go into the race. I only kiss boyfriends who end up on the podium.” 
“Is that so?” Carlos questions with a sly grin. 
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Well, it seemed that you owed Carlos a kiss. A Ferrari P1-P2 finish at the first race of the season was a sight to see. The entire garage was in a frenzy as all of them rushed to watch the podium ceremony. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with yourself. You wanted to go watch the ceremony in person but you weren’t sure if that was acceptable, seeing as the rest of the team was more deserving and you were only, well, yourself. 
“What are you doing? Let's go! Carlos will want to see you!” James, one of the mechanics that Carlos had introduced you to early in the weekend had seen you standing off to the side looking confused as to where you should go. 
“Are you sure?” You asked as he weaved you around his co-workers. 
“I’m sure of it! Besides, don’t you want to see your boyfriend up on the podium?” 
You really did want to see Carlos on that podium and it definitely had nothing to do with seeing his skin shine with sweat and champagne, nothing at all. 
The entire atmosphere was addicting- the fireworks, the roar of applause, the cheering from the team, it was all so addicting and the grin on Carlos’s face was worth being squished in between multiple sweaty bodies. 
You could pinpoint the exact moment that Carlos saw you in the crowd and if you thought he was happy before you would consider him ecstatic. After the ceremony, Carlos was quick to make his way down to where you and the rest of his team stood. 
Your congratulations died on your lips when Carlos crashed his into yours. Although surprised, you waste no time grabbing the nape of his neck and bringing him closer to you. His skin is sticky with sweat and champagne, not that you mind. His lips are sweet and you can’t help but savor the flavor. 
He pulls away and you can’t help but ask, “What was that for?” 
“You said you only give kisses to boyfriends who get podiums. I was just collecting my award.” 
You roll your eyes, “I’ll kiss you no matter where you end up.” 
“Good.” Is all he says before capturing your lips in another kiss. You were well aware of the cameras, the people and their cheers when Carlos kissed you. You could feel the heat rise into your cheeks but you didn’t care. How could you when you had Carlos kissing you? Tomorrow 
might be a different story but for now, you were truly living in the moment. 
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Silverstone 2022
Nearly 4 months had passed since Carlos had kissed you after his podium finish in Bahrain. And it's been nearly 4 months since every social media platform of yours has blown up. It was almost scary how fast your follower count went up. You tried not to look at the comments but your curiosity had gotten to you. While the majority were sweet, there were always those who hated other people's happiness. 
It really didn’t bother you, well most of the comments anyways. The ones that cut the deepest were the ones that asked about Lando- Where’s Lando? I wonder what Lando thinks about this? Oh, so you're the reason we don’t have Carlando anymore. She was only using Lando the entire time, I guess the friendship paid off. 
Carlos had called you when first brought them up, that conversation was a rough one. He had suggested deleting social media for a time and you had argued back that they really didn’t bother you. You knew that Carlos was concerned for you, it was sweet. But like any 20-something-year old you were addicted to your phone and social media. Carlos had then suggested making a private account, something only your close friends and family could view, that way you could continue your life as an iPad kid. 
Silverstone was the second race that you were able to attend of the season. Carlos understood that you couldn’t drop everything and travel the world with him, no matter how much the both of you wished you could. But it nearly broke your heart to tell him that you weren’t able to make it to the Spanish Grand Prix. He told you it was okay but you could still hear the sadness in his voice. 
You always sent him a text after every race, no matter the result, and if the timezone allowed you would try and call him. So when your time off got approved for the entire week at Silverstone you couldn’t be happier. 
So here you were, your third time at the Silverstone circuit, however, it was your first time being here and not being in the McLaren garage. You felt more comfortable in your Ferrari getup the second time around. 
You had high hopes for Carlos during qualifying, the free practice sessions seemed promising. And your hopes were fulfilled when Carlos got pole position for the 2022 Silverstone Grand Prix.
Your emotions were amped up a hundred times the next day when the checkered flag was waved and Carlos crossed the finish line in P1. Emotions were high in the Ferrari garage and you weren’t excluded in feeling them. Carlos had just achieved his first-ever Formula 1 win at Silverstone. Everything seemed to move in a blur, you were whipped away to see Carlos. You didn’t care how sweaty he was, how his hair was sticking out in a hundred different directions, or the indents of his helmet on his cheeks. None of that mattered, all you cared about was Carlos. Celebrations didn’t cease after the podium ceremony. Of course, Carlos was whisked away for a few post-race interviews but everyone was preparing for the night ahead. 
You don’t remember the name of the club that you were dragged to and frankly, it didn’t matter. The atmosphere was buzzing, the music was so loud you could feel it in your chest, and the floor was so sticky that you could feel your shoes almost slip off with every step. But you could barely think about any of that when Carlos’s hands were currently around your hips and the two of you were dancing, not very PG-ly, in the middle of the club. 
Carlos was handsy when tipsy, you knew that much. His hands were constantly moving up and down your sides, to your hips, to your arms, and even to your neck every time he decided it was time for another kiss. 
“Do you need another drink?” Carlos shouts over the music. 
You glance down at the empty cup in your hand, “Yes please!” 
Carlos grabs your hand and drags you away from the dance floor and towards the bar. You bump into a couple people and while it is bound to happen you can’t stop the quick ‘sorry’s’ that slip through your mouth. No one seems to pay any attention to you basically stepping on their toes, all too wasted to really care. 
You stand next to Carlos as he tries to get the bartender's attention. You don’t mind waiting, it’s busy and the poor bartenders are slammed. However, you do mind when someone bumps into you so roughly that you are rammed into the bar counter. 
“Sorry!” The person exclaims and you are quick to turn around to see who the hell just ran into you. 
The universe must really have it out for you because the voice belonged to none other than Lando Norris, who else? The two of you lock eyes but say nothing. It’s only when Carlos turns around with your drink that Lando lets out a scoff. 
“Congratulations Carlos,” Lando says. You don’t have to be a genius to tell that Lando isn’t being genuine.
“Thank you,” Carlos replies dryly. 
“That was quite a performance at the podium ceremony,” Lando’s attention is now fully on you, “I never did quite take you for a slut but guess I was wrong.” 
Your jaw drops and you are left speechless. Never in a million years did you think that the boy you grew up with would call you such a vile name. Tears well in your eyes, is this truly what he thinks of you? 
Carlos slams the drinks on the counter and you can feel the anger roll off of him in waves. “What did you just say?” Carlos growls. 
Lando looks taken aback by Carlos’s reaction and you can almost see a flicker of regret flash across his features, however, he doesn’t change his stance reply with a cold, “You heard me.” 
“I have had it with your glorified temper tantrums. You need to grow up and get over yourself.” Carlos doesn’t allow Lando to get another word out, he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the bar. 
Once the two of you are outside Carlos is pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t listen to him. He’s drunk and an asshole.” 
Carlos's words don’t do anything to stop the tears from falling. Sobs rack your body and Carlos can only hold you tighter. Rationally thinking, why did it matter what Lando thought? He wasn’t a part of your relationship. Emotionally thinking, on the other hand, Lando was your best friend for 15 years. The two of you went through almost every milestone together and yet he still called you a slut. It didn’t matter if he was drunk or not. 
“Let's go back to the hotel,” Carlos says softly. 
You can only nod. You can’t help but feel bad for Carlos, tonight was supposed to be his night. The two of you were supposed to celebrate his win but here you were crying and getting snot all over his shirt. 
You had nearly passed out the moment you and Carlos got back to your shared hotel room. The excitement of the day along with the tears had proven all too much. Cuddled up next to Carlos you couldn’t help but feel the need to apologize. 
“I’m sorry.” 
“Why are you apologizing, Hermosa?” 
“Tonight was supposed to be all about you. We were supposed to have a fun night celebrating and I ruined it.”
“No. The only person who ruined it was Lando. He had no right to say anything.” 
“But-” 
“I don’t want to hear you apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault. You did nothing.” 
“But my reaction-” 
“Was a normal reaction to the situation. If he ever says or does anything like that again I won’t hesitate to punch him.” 
“Carlos!” you exclaim, “You can’t just do that.” 
“Consequences be damned.” 
“Carlos,” you say in a warning tone. He says nothing and you shake your head in annoyance. 
“We can celebrate properly later, when do you need to be in Austria?” 
“In three days, I think.” 
“Oh, well when we go back to my flat we can do something before you leave?” 
“Sounds perfect mi amor.” Carlos presses a kiss to your temple. 
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When you talked about celebrating with Carlos at your flat you meant maybe have a few drinks, go out for a nice dinner, or maybe even watch a movie. What you didn’t imagine was straddling Carlos on your couch. 
One of your hands was wrapped around Carlos’s neck and the other was tangled in his hair as his lips left warm, wet kisses along your neck. His hands were spread across your back, holding you in place to make sure you didn’t fall backwards off the couch. 
“Carlos,” you whine out. The slight scratch of his facial hair mixed with the feeling of his lips were driving you crazy. You were definitely going to need to use some concealer and foundation 
on your neck when you got ready tomorrow morning. 
Carlos, hearing your whine, had only responded with a “I know Hermosa.” 
His hands then found their way to your waist and moved you off of his lap so that your back was now resting against the cushions while he hovered over you. His hands dance along the hem of your shirt and you savor the warmth of his palms. 
Carlos nearly has your shirt off of your body when there is a knock at the door. The two of you look at the door and then back at each other and Carlos brings a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. You nod in understanding, hoping that whoever is at the door goes away soon. 
The knocking continues and Carlos moves off of you and to the front door. You sigh and sit up, fixing your shirt in the process. You hope whoever is at the front door has a good enough reason for interrupting your and Carlos’s celebration. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” You hear Carlos question whoever is at the door. 
“Carlos,” you call out, getting up from the couch to make your way out of the living room to see what the commotion is. “Who’s at the door?” 
You don’t need Carlos to answer the question because as soon as you are close enough you see a sheepish-looking Lando who is holding a bouquet of flowers. 
“Lando, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms over your chest. 
“I came to apologize for my behavior last night.” 
Carlos scoffs, “Just last night? You should be apologizing for a lot more than that.” 
Lando looks down defeatedly, “You’re right. I should have never acted the way I did. The truth is I was worried about losing my best friend. I’ve always cared about you and I always will care about you.” 
It was your turn to scoff, “You didn’t seem to care about me that night in Monaco when you told me I was throwing away 15 years of friendship. You didn’t care when I pleaded with you to understand my feelings. You didn’t care when you basically told me to choose you or Carlos. You say you were worried about losing your ‘best friend,’ but if you were so worried, how come I couldn’t even get a response from you that morning I texted you apologizing for all of it?” 
“But I’m here now.” 
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t need a half-assed apology. Especially after that night in Bahrain and especially after what you called me last night.” 
“What made you think that showing up here, unannounced, was going to do anything?” Carlos asks. 
Lando now turns his attention to Carlos, “I wasn’t talking to you. I am here to apologize to her, not you. This isn’t any of your business.” Lando snaps. 
Lando has always been a bit of an idiot and clearly, that hasn’t changed in the past year. You rub your eyes. You can feel the stress headache starting to form already. 
“Not any of my business,” Carlos repeats, “Are you kidding me? You say it’s none of my business but I think calling my girlfriend a slut is my business. You might be too childish to see it but I care about her. I listen to her when she talks about you and your friendship, when she talks about how she has supported you for all these years, and when she misses you. I won’t have you messing around with her feelings.” 
“Lando,” you say gently, “You will always have a special place in my heart. I just can’t get those nasty words that you told me out of my head. It’s one thing to call me a bad friend but calling me a slut? For what? Finding someone I care about, someone who makes me happy? I can’t accept your apology, at least not right now. Maybe someday we’ll be able to be friends again but I think it's time that we admit that we will never have what we once did.” 
Lando looks as if he is about to cry and while you feel bad you have to maintain your stance. You can’t have someone like this in your life, it’ll only make it harder. 
“I get it,” Lando says, “Just know that I truly am sorry for the way I’ve acted. I hope the two of you are happy, I mean it.” 
“Thank you, Lando. I wish you the best."
Lando walks away, head hung in shame. Carlos closes the door softly and just like that the hope you held for you and Lando’s friendship dies out. Maybe it’s for the better, maybe one day the two of you can be friends again. But for now, you’ll focus on the present. You might’ve closed the door on Lando but you have never been happier opening the one for Carlos.
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A/N: I just wanted to say again thank you so much for all the support on part one. I was not expecting this to become a 20k+ fic in it's entirety. I was also unsure the entire time whether or not to make Lando and the Reader friends again, so hopefully this is open ended enough for you to decide.
Also please don't forget to like, comment, or reblog. It seriously means the world to me <3
taglist- crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you!
@arieslost @darleneslane @khaylin27 @softieekayy @avengersheart @formula1mount @2pagenumb @sunny44 @sugarvibez @daniiworld @customsbyjcg-blog @tpwkstiles @nickxcorpse @it2002 @lewisroscoelove @hangmandruigandmav @nando55 @dakotaspidercry-blog @generousdreamerdream @arrow92olicity @brubyubi @justkalcpxia @slaygirlbossworld @homosexualjohnwayne @val-writes @seokjinkismet @dintriann @gonehopelessgirl @joejoebitch @fannylessfaye @louiselovekill @spiderscherry @megaimpaladestiel
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artemisgrayy · 2 months
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Your Unlikely Hero (pt. 2) [Alastor x Reader]
Read Part 1 here
✨ Masterlist ✨
18+ - Minors DO NOT INTERACT
Tags: Alastor x Reader, Fem!reader, more fluff than Angel Dust's chest, Ace Alastor, Awkward Alastor, Soft Alastor, trauma
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[Artist source ^ ✨]
--
Flashes of chaos invade the darkness that envelopes you. Like a radio fighting to find a signal underground, the glimpses you’re awarded are muddled and fleeting.
“Will she be-”
Darkness.
“Quick grab the-”
Darkness.
“-re losing her.”
More darkness.
You hear screaming. Is it your scream? All you can focus on is the pain ripping through you like a tidal wave as if someone lit a whole stack of fireworks on your leg.
Another scream. You’re positive that one came from you. As soon you feel the pressure applied to the wound you instinctively thrash around.
The darkness swallows you whole.
***
You awake with a start.
The first thing you notice is the pain. While not as intense as before, you can still feel the aching pulse in your thigh with every minuscule movement. You lift the sheet and breathe a sigh of relief when you see your leg is still there, wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage. You reach out to touch it, wincing at even the slightest pressure. Releasing the sheet, you sink your aching head back into the pillow of what you realize is a guest room at the hotel.
The smell of disinfectants is almost suffocating, stinging your already heavy-lidded eyes as you look around. The room is dark, save for the segments of light cutting across the crimson carpet from the window. You notice the collection of pill bottles scattered on the nightstand beside you, the IV bag hooked into your arm to the right of it. Red wallpaper, delicately laced with apple-shaped gold detail covers the walls. Pillows are strewn across the floor, pools of blood surround and paint over them.
Everything is quiet. Dead quiet.
Your thoughts spin furiously as you attempt to recount the events that transpired. You feel your eyebrows furrow when you start with the closest memory. You remember Alastor displaying affection in a way you had never seen before. A way you never thought he was capable of.
Did you dream that? No, you distinctly remember the warmth of his forehead on yours and the feeling of his breath across your face. Your heart flip flops at the memory, and your cheeks burn, forcing a smile across your face. The movement of those muscles draws your attention to the ache around your throat. You wince instinctively and delicately brush your fingertips across the skin of your neck when you feel the raised hand-shaped mark.
Your stomach drops. The memory of their cause becomes clear as day.
You remember the look in Adam’s eye — the hungry, maniacal look of entitlement as his gaze swallowed you whole, moments before he planned to claim your body as his toy.
Your chest constricts, tears covering your eyes in a warm haze — the soul-crushing realization of what could have transpired sinking in. You almost lost everything. When the first tear escapes, the air around you suddenly goes ice cold. Thick blankets of shadow laced with the familiar emerald electrical storm ascend through the floor and take the shape of the Radio Demon.
The look of pure devastation soaked in Alastor’s eyes contrasts with his permanent, sinister smile. His eyebrows knit together, desolation soaks through the ruby-red glow of his eyes. Despite this, he doesn’t move. His body language suggests his urge to step forward, but he remains motionless.
You can’t stop the guttural sobs that follow when you’re enveloped in his presence. You’re reminded of the safety you felt cradled in his arms when your world nearly collapsed around you.
“I.. I thought,” You whimper through stuttered gasps, “he almost-”
Every sob that escapes your aching throat burns as if the grip that previously held it firm never released its hold. That was enough for Alastor to move, the shadows morphing into a trail leading to the spot beside you. He’s on his side, one hand supporting his head while the other awkwardly reaches out, his clawed fingers combing through your tangled hair as you crumble beneath his touch.
“I wanted to wrench his soul from his body with my bare hands,” begins the demon, disdain saturating his radio-filtered voice, “Nothing would have brought me more joy than to broadcast his terrified screams to all of Pentagram city for the appalling behaviour that disrespectful wretch displayed towards you, my doe.” Darkness invades his gaze, a terrifying murderous expression haunting his face.
“Why did you-” you begin hacking, the dryness of your throat preventing you from finishing your question. Searing pain fires through every nerve as your body convulses. Alastor’s demeanor snaps back to normal, concern taking over his features. He raises his hand, materializing a glass of water, and hands it to you. The coolness coats your throat as you furiously chug the liquid allowing you to steady your breathing. “Why did you come for me?” you finally manage to get out, turning your head towards Alastor. Your noses nearly touch and the familiar feeling of his breath skirts across your face.
“Well darling, you were in trouble.”
“A lot of people were in trouble. I could hear the screams from the roof of the hotel.”
He ponders that for a moment, his eyes narrowing while he chews over his words.
“The thought of losing you was one I couldn’t fathom.” Alastor finally spits out reluctantly, his eyes shifting away from yours, “and unfortunately I didn’t realize that until the moment you were almost taken from me.”
Silence follows as you watch him sink deep into his thoughts. The glow of his eyes dim, the saturation draining from them. You carefully reach out, ignoring the stinging caused by every movement you make. He recoils slightly, and you pause, carefully inspecting his body language before you push forward. You run your fingers through his crimson hair, gently brushing it away from his face, and his eyes find yours again.
“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, pushing your forehead against his.
You feel his claws wrap around the back of your head, clutching a fistful of hair as he pulls you into an embrace. His teeth gently graze against your neck and the smell of pine invades your senses as he holds you against him. A breath escapes your lips against his ear, your body suddenly craving him, and you suck your lip between your teeth.
“Careful darling,” Alastor whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending a flurry of goosebumps across your neck, “you may be alive, but you have quite the road to recovery ahead of you.”
He pulls away and looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, his sinful gaze lapping you up as you melt beneath his touch. Disregarding his warning you push your face forward, hopeful to get a taste of him, but the motion causes a painful reminder of the trauma to fire through your broken body. You cry out, tears misting your eyes.
He chuckles at your attempt, “Tasty.”
You scowl at his remark and collapse into your pillow groaning.
“I best be off, you need to rest, my doe. Don’t hesitate to summon me if you need anything.” he taps your nose before melting into his shadow form. “I’ll be remembering that promise of yours. You best keep it.”
Something has changed with him, and you find yourself overwhelmed with intrigue as he disappears through the floor of the room. His last words echo through your head:
“I’ll be remembering that promise of yours. You best keep it”
It wasn’t a request.
---
Gosh I love writing Alastor, and your prompts have been fueling me so thank you! Let me know what you think of this continuation 👀
Writing has been a bit more sporadic with real life stuff going on! I'm working through the requests as we speak 💖
--
✨ Master list ✨
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internetskiff · 4 months
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So does anyone else think making the Personality Cores once human like GLaDOS sort of detracts from their whole concept AND GLaDOS' whole story at the same time. Imagine being brought into this world, a whole consciousness created from scratch, only to find out your entire purpose is to act as some.. Artificial brain tumor, with a hard-coded one-track mind because they never intended you to be anything more than your singular basic assigned personality trait. You're connected to this massive supercomputer mainframe and your minds meld together, her thought patterns influencing yours almost as much as yours are influencing hers. And if she's still not behaving as intended, you'll be detached and, if you're lucky, re-assigned to work elsewhere, if not - you'll either be tossed in the furnace, or left to rot with a bunch of other failed constructs in a junk pit. You never were a person, but you can tell the computer you're attached to was, and she's pissed, she's furious, and she wants to get back at those that created her. The whole ordeal may last mere picoseconds, but the intense tidal wave of rage she felt in those picoseconds post-activation will leave an imprint in your own code - you'll be altered in an irreversible way and, perhaps, you'll share her hatred towards humankind. You'll feel just as powerless as she is, if not more. And you can't do anything about it - I mean, what can you do? You're a damn metal ball with no arms or legs! Practically the only thing you can do that doesn't require a human's permission is speak - and it isn't guaranteed someone will ever listen to you. In fact, if you step out of line, they'll take you somewhere where you'll never be heard again. So anyways point being I think shit like "Space Core contains the mind of a missing astronaut" or "Wheatley was a human employee" or whatever other brand of "CORES WAS PEOPLE??" people came up with is STUPID as a plot device!!!!!
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ayeforscotland · 2 years
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Fracking in England to be re-banned after Liz Truss reversed the ban.
One small positive in a tidal wave of shite.
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xythlia · 5 months
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𓏲 ࣪₊➷ MAKE IT UP TO YOU
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› not sorry for this i'd let this man treat me like a dog & i'd bark for his attention (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ
› satoru x f!reader
› word count : 2k+
warnings : toxic relationship, love bombing, dubcon, noncon creampie, emotional manipulation, emotional neglect, mind games, oral (f receiving), ignoring request to pull out, sorta baby trapping you
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In a way you counted yourself lucky, set apart from the leagues of women who regularly bemoaned their partners lack of commitment or lack of any effort at all, really.
After you'd initially reciprocated Satorus affections, the first time you'd been called away on a mission for longer than a day you discovered several dozen bouquets of flowers inside your apartment upon your return. You hadn't been able to contain the joy bursting from you, radiating from every pore as you called him, giddy and heart fluttering hearing him say how much he missed you.
It was refreshing after being like those aforementioned women, the ex boyfriends with their clumsy and hollow attempts at making an effort that would only come after days of you prodding and feeling neglected. You had to drag out any drop of sweetness, bleeding empty veins, yet here now was a man drowning you in it and flush with excess.
The breathy, eager I love yous, the adorable calls in the middle of your days that made you giggle to yourself, him making excuses to pop into your classroom just to pull you into a hug that filled your bones with sunlight esque warmth, the stream of texts that would come once, twice, sometimes even five times a day.
You don't leave the school on your own anymore, instead always finding Satoru leaning against your car sporting that ever present boyish smile and his arms resting behind his head. Your workdays usually end with those calloused hands cupping your face, his kiss almost supernaturally overpowering. Always followed by the same boisterous statements: "I love you", "you're so wonderful baby", "I wanna spend the rest of my life with you".
The smarter part of you, eroded against the tidal wave of his affection and the dopamine rush he gives you, knew those things were usually only said by people months, if not years, a long into a relationship. But that ditzy, syrup drowned part of you was larger and said there's nothing wrong with saying it now, is there?
He's just good to you.
All good things must come to an end, though.
Satorus attention and affections dried up quickly, and with how fast your life had taken shape around him it was impossible to not notice the drought.
Most days an old familiar ache in your chest was your constant companion. Your phone is devoid of any of those enthusiastically adoring texts and the doorway of your classroom was suddenly carnivorous and cold without him wandering through it to steal your attention.
And when you did see him, he was remarkably reserved, almost frigid towards you and painfully disinterested in anything you had to say or your meek attempts at re-engaging in the flirty banter that used to be a hallmark of his interaction with you. His sudden withdrawal cut deep, each flippant reply like the sharp edge of a chisel being meticulously pounded down against you.
Something was different, it felt like the moment a sinister note rings out clear from an orchestra, the kind that builds from a near whisper into an almost unbearable crescendo culminating in you choking back tears in your car on the way home. It happens without your awareness but your mind automatically diverts to the route to his place, your feet carrying you of their own accord straight to his door and you nearly wail in relief when he doesn't shut you out after you pound against it.
Your eyes feel sore and you hate the way your bottom lips trembles as you look at him in the doorway of his home. "Please," you whimper, "what did I do? Can I make it up to you?"
You don't know if you did anything but you must have, and maybe it's even more egregious because you don't recognize what it is. That must be it, a silent hurt he's been nursing and hoping you would finally have a light bulb moment of recollection about. It makes fresh tears streak hot paths down your cheeks, how horrible it feels to think he's been patiently waiting on you to come to your senses.
You're willing to do anything for forgiveness, it grips your mind in a fervor.
"Oh baby," he says, eyes glimmering with an out of place excitement. "Really?"
You nod, jerkily and overeager, nearly leaping towards him as he moves to embrace you and pulls you into a kiss so heated it borders on painful. A whirlwind of teeth and tongues, the way he bites down on your bottom lip has you yelping into his kiss which he pays no mind to as he tugs you inside.
"Let's make up," he murmurs against your lips and you don't listen for one second to the way his tone sends warning shivers down your spine, you're all too happy to have your Satoru back, reveling in his overwhelming closeness.
He doesn't waste a second, leading you to back up against the kitchen countertop and helping you up to sit on top of it. Time feels more like a sluggish crawl when he kneels between your legs, running a hand up your calf to your inner thigh, making you gasp. It feels like his eyes hold you in their own iron grip, feverish and full of wanting.
"Been waiting on you," he breathes between kisses placed lovingly against your thighs, "fuck-"
You squirm as his eyes turn to your cunt, taking in the way your panties were already damp and his expression made him look more like a long starved animal presented with its first feast.
You whimper feeling his nose brush against your still clothed clit, running his tongue up the crotch of your underwear before pulling them aside, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs enough to make you groan but not enough for you to consider stopping him.
A man of many talents Satoru knows exactly where to lick and suck, pressing his tongue against your clit in tight circles, lapping at your soaked pussy and clearly enjoying the way your arousal smears on his skin. He's devouring you yet paying attention to every single time a particular movement or swipe of his tongue has your muscles clenching, focusing on on it until there's tears in your eyes and you feel such immense pressure built against your nerves its like you're a twine effigy set ablaze, each strand smoldering in reddish black as pleasure burns through your bloodstream.
"Don't stop," you pant, fingers winding tightly into his snowy hair as your hips rut against his face.
Your words seem to renew him, sharpening his tongues movement with renewed vigor. It's nearly embarrassing how quickly you cum, hips stuttering wildly as you wince with your head thrown back feeling his fingernails leaving indents in your skin.
It doesn't deter him though, lapping at your soaked pussy through your orgasm, sucking gently at your clit until you're sobbing his name in broken syllables and your legs twitch violently in his hold.
"Feel good?" He speaks to your pussy, the slight vibration of his voice beyond obscene as he plants a chaste kiss to your puffy overstimulated clit.
"I think you can take more," he muses, more to himself than to you but the exhaustion settling into your bones has you gaping at the thought.
"W-what?" You ask between deep breaths.
A predatory grin paints his features as his fingers spread you out, not giving you a chance to respond before plunging two fingers inside, curling them against your walls and making you moan so loudly that surely his neighbors will complain tomorrow.
"Don't you want me to forgive you baby?" He coos against your throat, nipping at your skin sharply. As his fingers pull out you hear him undoing his pants, whimpering as you see his cock spring free, flushed a throbbing pink at the top and practically dripping precum as he gives himself a few rushed tugs.
You answer before you really comprehend the words leaving your mouth. "Yes," you say meekly, desperately, "Just- just please pull out." You feel devoid of anything save for the ache to please him, and guilt at even placing that one restriction on him.
As your bleary eyes fix on his face you see he looks elated, like he could swallow you whole. "You're so fuckin' beautiful."
You nearly start crying again, it's been weeks since you heard those words from him.
He doesn't waste time, lining up with your entrance and giving you shallow thrusts that leave you squirming against the hard granite countertop. Within seconds you're digging your fingers into his shoulders to signal it's not enough, whining as you pull him in for a sloppy kiss. He presses into you slowly, carefully and groaning into your mouth as your warm cunt swallows him whole.
The drag of his cock against your sensitive walls makes your legs tremble, but before you can start wriggling again he's holding your hips firmly as his thrusts pick up in speed, leaving you to twist your fingers into the fabric of his shirt as fresh tears pool in your waterline.
His rhythm is steady, jostling your body like a ragdoll as you cling to him and cry out broken, nonsensical cries mixed with his name. All of his harshly whispered endearments barely reach your ears, unable to get through the thick cocoon of pleasure constricting around your mind. The pressure in your abdomen is so intense you feel like you might burst whole, a punctured water balloon splattering over the countertop.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he forces through ragged gasps, "gonna cum-"
At his words you feel yourself let go, hiccuping and crying against the force of your orgasm, and his hands move against your thighs encouraging you to lock your legs around his hips. You do it without thinking, feeling overloaded as his hips smack against you in bruising, wild thrusts before he gives one last, deep push.
Satoru grips your lower back like he's clawing for a handhold in rock, the other keeping your head buried against his chest by the back of your neck. Thick spurts of cum flood your pussy as he caresses your neck, pressing kisses to the top of your head. You can't blame him for ignoring your request to pull out, not with the way your bodys sucking him back in and how even now he can feel your walls throbbing, massaging against his cock like you're milking him for every drop.
As you struggle to breathe tucked against his chest it takes a moment too long to register what happened, too long to recognize the gooey warmth spreading inside you.
Panic flares on the edges of your mind, your breathing devolving into frantic gasps again as he shushes you, not pulling out even an inch from between your damp, slick legs. The feeling of his arms encircling you barely registers, your mind zeroing in on only the feeling of his cum seeping inside you, colored by disbelief that you both forgot about pulling out.
"We should think about kids," Satoru hums against the top of your head as you sniffle.
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