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kitixie · 21 days

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INVISIBLE STRING — CASSIAN!

pairing: cassian x morrigan (half) sister reader

notes: :3 hi hi this is so scary. i haven’t posted a full thought out fic in probably a year (crazy) and i would like to say i have not finished the series so if timeline is inaccurate and just plots don’t make sense w canon it’s bc im still on acowar :p but cassian has taken over my brain and i can’t get him out of it !!!! c: part two is already being worked on bc im so proud of her. i hope u all enjoy it <3 ++ i know mor is described as being blonde and fairly pale in complexion which is why i made reader her half sibling, and there are no descriptions of reader’s physical attributes bc i wanted to kept it as neutral as possible :3

cw: angst, hurt no comfort (yet?), azriel’s shadows being the biggest cassreader shippers ever, unrequited love but really it’s just idiots in love. also mentions (brief) of abuse from keir (gross!)

Your fingers nervously fumbled with the straps of your leathers. Heart pounding in your ears as you forced yourself to drop the nervous jitters, fingers balling into tight fist to stop their trembling.

It had been a long time since you had last seen your family. A long time since your gaze met violet eyes, or your nose scented cedar wood and night chilled mist. The lingering scent of sea salted water and citrus, and fresh paint and vanilla, and sweet wine and roses had nearly erased from your memory. But what you missed the most was the red gleam of siphons that glowed ruby red under certain light.

Truly, in an immortals life time half a decade was just a blip in time, minuscule, but you had never been gone this long from them. Especially not from Rhys, Az, Mor, and Cassian, with the exception of Rhysand’s imprisonment under the mountain.

You blinked away the burning in your eyes as you pushed open the doors of the town house. Soft chatter growing cold at the unexpected intrusion. You had barely enough time to register everyone seated at the table when shadows were zooming past their master to greet you excitedly.

Nuzzling into your hair and neck and arms. Azriel’s shadows had always been so fond of you. Whispering and singing in your ear in a language you could not understand.

They tugged you forward, until you were stumbling clumsily as they dragged you towards Cassian. An ache settled deep in your chest as you fought against them gently, moving between Azriel and Rhys. You missed the flash of hurt in hazel eyes as you avoided him.

Five years later and he still didn’t know the truth of your departure. Before your thoughts could send you spiraling, Rhys’ voice called your name. An undeniable smile in his voice before his arms were enveloping you, “Cousin, you’re back.”

“I am.” Your throat felt thick, tongue heavy as you fought back tears. His scent had always comforted you, Rhys had given you and Mor a chance. A lifeline in the sea that you were drowning in, in Hewn City.

Two sisters, both forced into a world that was cruel and unkind. Morrigan as rightful Heir of Keir had experienced the brunt of it all. From being stuffed into tight dress, to being pranced around in front of grimy men, and nearly forced into a life with a male whose family’s cruelty knew no bounds.

Your torment had been in forms of neglect and isolation. Your father had never much cared for you, being a product of affairs, his bastard, he left you alone. Barely acknowledged your presence when at the mere age of nine you were thrown into his arms from your mother’s father, stating you were no longer his responsibility since your mother’s death. Your father’s neglect, you now realized, had been a blessing.

You were Mor’s shadow. Clinging to her as any younger sister would. Always causing trouble until you learned to obey. Mor never let you experience the abuse from your father fully. Always taking the blame, always hiding you. You owed her and Rhys, your family, everything.

There was a soft clearing of a throat that pulled you and your High Lord apart. Shadows greedily pulling you to face everyone else. Azriel’s hazel eyes assessing you, looking for any injuries before his fingers were squeezing your elbow gently. A soft hello.

Your eyes flickered around the room, and you realized just how much had changed. Your High Lady, and dear friend seated at the head of the table, Rhys by her side. Besides him sat Azriel and then Elain.

Your throat tightened as you allowed your eyes to flicker to the other side, Nesta beside Feyra, and Cassian beside her. Amren had most likely skipped out dinner to enjoy the privacy of her apartment, and Mor was no longer around. Preferring to spend her time on the continent.

The golden thread that tied you to the Lord of Bloodshed sung loudly and happily in your chest. Five years since you had last laid eyes on him and the feeling alone nearly brought you to your knees.

Your eyes flickered away from Cassian, ignoring the way your heart and soul begged you not to. “Is my room still available?”

Feyra sent you a soft smile, sad really, as she realized how desperately you wished to find some peace and quiet. She knew of your affections for the General, and how you had never told him only to watch him fall in love with her sister.

“Of course it is, but you should join us.”

You swallowed roughly at Rhys’ words, unable to stop the gnawing pain in your heart and the cruel words circling in your mind. Cassian was not yours, he had never been and it was unfair of you to expect him to love you the way you had always yearned for him too. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, it always fucking hurt.

“I’m quite tired, maybe tomorrow.” Rhys didn’t push, just affectionately tucked your hair behind your pointed ear and let you go.

Your steps were quick, hurried and Cassian’s voice sounded like smooth velvet as he called your name. You didn’t stop, your knees nearly buckling under your weight as you forced yourself to keep walking.

Mumbling a quiet, “Goodnight,” before disappearing into the hallways in search of your bedroom.

During your five years away at Day the turmoil in your heart had eased, if only slightly. Cassian would unintentionally send his emotions down the bond, and it seemed it always happened when your heart had finally let you rest.

When you finally saw light at the end of a never ending tunnel of despair, the mating bond would reel you in, viciously and unforgiving. You were sure you were being punished.

How dare you ever try to question what the Mother wanted for you?

Being back in Velaris, being back home, felt so much worse. With the distance, even when his emotions poured into your very bones, it felt weakened. Less tethered to you.

But now? Now you felt his sorrow so deeply tears fell freely down your cheeks.

You had only been trying to sleep for a few hours, your rest had been fitful at best, anxiety prickling at your fingertips as you threw the warm blanket off of you. You needed air. You needed clarity.

Your feet moved on their own. From what you last knew there were no longer many residents here. You were careless in thinking so as your feet moved hurriedly through the house and out into the garden.

Filling your lungs with air as tears prickled at your eyes, the cold nipping at your skin as you sunk into one of the benches placed around the area.

You had only been in his presence for a mere five minutes and your heart was already waging a war against you.

Maybe you could convince Rhys to send you off once again. Your years away at Day had been filled with research and insight, maybe you could do the same at Dawn. Or any other Court that wasn’t here. Gods, you’d even take the forsaken libraries in the Hewn City if it meant not being here. You’d beg if you had too because this, this was too much.

You let out a shaky breath as your mind ruthfully plagued you with memories of the past. Of your utter devastation of hearing that Mor had slept with Cassian.

Of the guilt you felt after, when you avoided her in anger and utter jealousy and then told of the way she was savagely left to die.

You would never forgive yourself.

Remembering when you realized you were utterly and hopelessly devoted to your life long friend, and learning to live with just having a small part of him for you.

Hoping and praying to the Mother that he’d love you back. Hoping to see a spark of honeyed warmth, or a lick of jealousy when you found solace in the warmth of another. Anything, you prayed and prayed, but she never answered.

Not until you had pinned him down on the training matt, wings sprawled out beneath him as you stared at him smugly. A soft, primal, smirk on his face as he gripped your thighs. “You’re getting better.”

Your laughter filtered through the open area, “Only ‘better’? I just kicked your ass.”

He grunted, tugging you gently and in a quick succession of movements had flipped you over, pinning you to the ground. His thighs caged over yours, pinning your hands above your head as he sent you a toothy smile.

The wind that had been knocked out of you was not due to the fact your back had hit against the matt, but because something snapped inside of you. An invisible golden thread, darting from your chest to his, so visceral you could almost taste it, singing happily at finally being acknowledged.

But he gave no indication that he had felt the mating bond snap into place, “Yes, ‘better’. Because you should know not to let your guard down.”

Your speechlessness could’ve been a product of being bested in sparring, your mind racing with things to say but nothing came out.

The fog that had formed in your brain cleared at the bark of laughter that left Azriel, “If you two are done flirting, get back to sparring or leave the ring.”

You don’t remember what excuse you used to suddenly needing to leave but you did. Hope sparkling in your chest at what you thought was an answered prayer by the Mother. He was yours, just as much as you were his.

Only for the ember to burn to ash quickly, as two nights after Cassian had come to you looking for guidance on how to court Nesta.

You tried so hard, pushing down the mating bond that roared and screamed in utter agony as he spilled to you his affections for the eldest Archeron.

Your heart stuttering and begging for release of this pain as your mind caught up to you. He’d never see you. He hadn’t before, so what would be so different now? What would suddenly make you worthy in his eyes? The mating bond?

You realized quickly that you didn’t want that. Didn’t want him to love you just because fate decided to pair you together. You wanted him to love you, to yearn for you the way you had for him without something telling him to.

So with a forced smile you consoled him. Running your fingers through his hair and giving him advice on how to win her heart.

Some days you cursed yourself for that night. You wished you had been selfish and told him he was yours. But then the guilt would settle and you knew you’d never have the heart to force that onto your dearest friend.

In the end all you wanted was his happiness, if that was with someone else then you’d have to learn to live with it.

It had all led up to the night where you accidentally walked in on Nesta and Cassian in the kitchen at the House of Wind, lips and tongues tangled.

The mating bond felt like it was burning you alive from the inside out, angry and volatile as it blamed you for pushing him into her arms.

You’re not sure how you ended up in Rhys office, your face pressed into him as your fingers tried to claw at the hurt in your chest, “Make it stop, Rhys. Gods please, just make it stop.”

He had never seen you like this, never seen you in such despair as he tried to calm you down. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help you.

Only held you in his arms and sang a lullaby his mother had always sang to the three of you as children. Your desperation and pain eased and numbness eventually coated your insides.

“Send me away.”

He hesitated, wiping your tears as Feyra’s soothing touch caressed your back. His violet eyes shining with hurt and concern for you, “What are you running from?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the deep timber of a voice you were so familiar with,“Is it just me, or are you avoiding me?”

Heat quickly ran from your skull down to your spine at the velvety voice that belonged to Cassian. Your back tensing uncomfortably as you turned to look at him.

You refrained from letting your eyes glaze down his form. Bare chested and wings lazily held up as his brows furrowed when he took you in.

“Cassian-what are you doing here?”

You stood up from your seated position as he moved closer. His eyes never leaving yours, “Here as in the gardens or here as in my home?”

Your brows furrowed, were he and Nesta now permanently in the town house? It would’ve made sense, seeing as they were all here, having dinner earlier.

“In-in the gardens.”

His lips twisted up into a small quirk of a smile, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to reacquaint himself with your features.

Your heart lurched to your throat as his gaze lingered on your lips before he looked back into your eyes. “I heard you walking around. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“How did you know it was me?”

His lips tugged into a proper smile this time, “Who else could it be?”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he’d long ago familiarized himself with the sound of your steps.

Your brows pinched together, full lips tugging into a small frown, “Where is everyone else?”

“Elain is most likely off in Lucien’s apartment, Azriel is at the House of Wind.”

And despite yourself, you asked, “And Nesta?”

Your throat bobbed softly, heart already preparing itself to hear that she was tangled in his sheets in his room. A soft shrug came from him, muscles flexing deliciously at the movement, “Probably with her mate.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at his words. Her mate? You were sure the confusion was evident on your face as Cassian laughed. “It’s a bit unfair isn’t it? She was made a measly six years ago, and she’s found who her soul is tethered to, while we’ve been around for centuries and have no luck.”

“Lucky her.”

He hummed, eyes glazing over your face and the look in his eyes was unrecognizable. Warm and honeyed. It made your stomach twist and turn into uncomfortable knots.

“I should go to bed, Cassian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You made to walk away from him, but his rough fingers wrapped around your forearm in a touch that could only be described as gentle. When you finally looked up at him his brows were pinched together in confusion, and hurt.

“What’s with the full name?”

“It’s yours, isn’t it?”

His eyes narrowed slightly at your words, “You’ve used it on me twice in the span of a few minutes. I’m never ‘Cassian’ to you.”

A stretch of silence passed between the two of you, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

Gods, you had come around to the idea of seeing him tangled with Nesta. But you were back and he was single. Or at least not with her and you don’t know what you feared most.

That your heart would take this as hope and yearn for him, and watch him fall for another, or to finally tell him how you felt. If it would even mean anything to him, if he’d even want you.

You couldn’t do it, you wouldn’t. You refused to let hope spark in your heart when he had already tangled himself into your very being like overgrown ivy. You don’t know if you’d survive any more rejection.

His voice was softer this time, thick fingers cupping your cheeks and jaw, forcing you to look at him, “You were gone five years and I can barely get five sentences out of you before you’re running away from me.”

Tears stung behind your eyes as your throat tightened at the hurt twinging his voice. It took everything in you to not soothe the crease between his brows, your body tensing softly as his thumb caressed your bottom lip gently, “If I have offended you, or hurt you some how tell me how to fix it. I have been waiting for five years for your return and I cannot stand to think that this whole time you were away you were angry with me.”

You wished you could speak, but your tongue felt heavy. The hurt in his eyes turned to something akin to despair at your silence, his hands dropped from caressing your face to hang loosely by his side, his wings slumped against the floor.

You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to look away from him, “I should go to bed.”

And this time he didn’t stop you.

Weeks had trickled by so slowly since your return to Velaris as you tried to find your place back in your home court.

You had never been particularly good at fighting, your strength came from your knowledge. Books and literature had been something you had clung to as a child and it never left you.

You digested text in a way the inner circle did not, memorized details and names and faces others struggled with. But that did not mean Azriel was any easier on you when it came to training.

The muscles in your abdomen ached painfully, your arms felt heavy and filled with sand as he squared up once more. “I need a break.”

“You need to focus.”

A whine ripped from your throat in protest, Az’s shadows peppering cooling kisses and caresses on your skin to try and comfort you. “Just a few minutes. Please?”

“You think if someone were to try and attack you, they’d spare you if you whined like a petulant child?”

At your silence and glare he continued, “Didn’t think so.”

Your fingers balled into fist as you readied yourself, your muscles heavy with exhaustion as you threw punch after punch his way. “Remain focused, let yourself do what feels instinctual.”

You were sure you would’ve passed whatever Azriel’s standards were had his shadows not wrapped around your legs. Tugging insistently and trying to drag you away.

You heard Azriel’s noise of protest as he tried to rein his shadows back but they refused. Your head turned towards the direction in which they were tugging you in only to be met with Cassian’s warm hazel eyes already on you.

With an accidental misstep you were tumbling forward, falling far too quickly to catch yourself. Your head ringing harshly as the side of your face smacked against the mat.

Someone called out your name in a panic, and you missed the way Cassian had roughly pushed Azriel away from you as he turned you around.

His eyes frayed with worry as your eyes remained unfocused, “Can you look at me, dove?”

You blinked a few times before a groan of discomfort left your mouth, “What the fuck happened?”

Azriel’s shadows sheepishly began to caress your skull, pressing kisses of apologies on your skin. You didn’t hear anything besides tiny wisps of whispers coming from them but you’re were sure they hissed at Cassian as he shooed them away.

It took you a few minutes but you were eventually able to sit. Your ears ringing and still a little dizzy but you were feeling better despite the throb on your temple.

Azriel’s shadows peered at you from behind him sheepishly, and it was only when you extended your hand to them that they swarmed you in a flurry. Rubbing against your neck and hair affectionately, being careful with the side of your face but caressing you softly.

“They say they’re sorry.”

Your lips quirked up at Azriel’s words, “They’re forgiven.”

They buzzed in excitement, before stilling softly as Cassian extended a hand out for the shadows. They treaded carefully, lightly caressing his arm as in apology as if they had also offended him.

A few swirled around your hand and fingers, tugging it much more gently into Cassian’s extended hand. Your cheeks warmed up in embarrassment but before you could pull away, he tangled his fingers with yours.

The shadows swirled around your intertwined hands as if proud of themselves before finally returning to their master. Azriel sent you a soft smirk, and with a shake of his head diseapeared into a mass of dark misty shadows.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded slowly, retorting in exasperation, “Just feels like I hit my head.”

Cassian’s lips tugged into a soft smile, helping you up and not dropping your tangled fingers, “Let’s get you to Madja.”

He pulled you along closely, walking you both towards the edge of the training area. Before you could overthink about being so tangled in his arms he wrapped himself around you. One hand cradling the back of your head to his chest, while the other gripped the back of your thighs.

Your heart pummeled to your stomach as he took off flying, it had been so long since you felt the breeze against your face like this. Your legs wrapping around him as a startled laugh left your mouth.

You felt his laugh more than you heard it, his chest rumbling against yours and for the first time in years, your heart felt at ease around Cassian.

No turmoil or anguish, just overflowing affection and happiness as he flew you carefully around Velaris. Your face tucked away from being so pressed to his chest to look up at him and your breath hitched.

He was truly so beautiful, rough and sharp features that looked like he was made out of stone carving. His lips the perfect shade of dusty rose and plump, his nose fit him beautifully too, slightly crooked at the slope from being broken over the years. White-raised scars on his beautiful tan skin. You were so close you could see the faintest of freckles that doted his skin.

“You didn’t pass out on me, did you?”

Heat bloomed on your cheeks at getting so lost admiring him before you tucked your face back into his chest, “No, I’m fine.”

His fingers squeezed around your thighs as he pulled you closer before he descended down to the Town House.

You were grateful for the hand he kept placed on your back as he walked you into the house. Your dizziness hitting you once again as you landed on solid ground. The warmth running down your spine at his heated touch had you suppressing a shiver.

Your bones ached in protest when he pulled away and sat you down in front of an amused Rhys and exasperated Madja. The elder lady frowning at the bruise on your temple.

“Cassian, I’ve told you not to be so rough when training,” Madja’s soothing voice chastised the General. Your lips tugging into an amused smiled at the noise of protest that left his mouth.

“It was Azriel’s shadows that caused this.”

Madja’s eyes narrowed softly at his words but said nothing more. A hiss leaving your lips as she pushed against the bump forming near your eye.

Cassian’s fingers twitched nervously at the sound of your discomfort. His eyes glued to you as you were looked over by the healer.

Something warm and comfortable hummed in his chest seeing you. The weeks you had been back were nothing short of torture for him.

In the five years you had been gone Cassian came to the devastating realization that he was utterly and unabashedly enamored with you. Cursing himself for the time wasted on pointless lovers, on Nesta, when you had been by his side for the better half of four centuries.

His heart cracking open and knocking him over one restless night as his mind tormented him with everything he had been lacking since you had departed to Day.

He figured that he had always loved you, had always cared for you. But the twisting of his gut in your absences alerted him that it was in a way that was different from Mor and Amren, and then Feyra. His obsession with needing you near, needing you safe stemmed from some thing else entirely.

It took four months of being away from you to realize that. Cursing himself at all the time wasted.

And it wasn’t as if he didn’t try to get ahold of you while you were studying and researching to your hearts content at Day. He had sent letter after letter, received few responses but he had figured you were busy.

His skin had only started to crawl with dread and anxiety when there had been reasons for the Inner Circle to attend a meeting, or some grand ball thrown by Helion, and you were never there.

Either whisked away to some other Court for extended research or taking time away to visit your sister.

The very last time he had stepped foot in Day while you had been there was about three months before your return. Rhys had granted him permission to seek you out.

And when he stepped foot into Day Court’s palace in search of you his hope dwindled as Helion informed him that you had just left a few days prior for a fourteen day tour at Autumn Court. But he swore he scented the soft jasmine and lavender cream that he recognized as your scent roaming the halls.

Resigned, he returned home.

Then you returned, so careful and tense in his presence he wished to turn back back to when things were easier between the two of you. When his face would nuzzle into your soft belly as you ran your fingers through his hair and consoled him after a nightmare.

Or how he’d find his favorite pastries wrapped up on the counter that he knew you’d gone out of your way to get him.

He missed when his feelings hadn’t tangled themselves so deeply into you and he could just be. Gods, did he miss you. He yearned and ached and burned for you while you seemed content at keeping him an arms length away.

The mother could be so cruel.

He barely registered Rhys pressing an affectionate kiss to your bruised temple and mumbling that he was taking Madja back before something so earth shattering was unraveling in his chest.

His eyes wide and chest heaving the second the two of you were alone and your eyes met. A deeply rich golden invisible thread darting from his chest to yours.

He had unconsciously poured all his emotions of recognizing the bond down your connection. A primal need to be closer to you bursting from his chest as he tugged on the bond.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t seem surprised he noted. Your side of the bond closed off tightly he could feel nothing from your end. He hated that.

Your eyes were wide in apprehension as you stared at him, tears lining your eyes as his emotions of love and devotion were so strong they brought him to his knees before you. Pleading and desperate as he called out your name.

“Don’t do this, Cassian.”

His brows pinched together as he reached for you, the bond screaming in agony as you avoided his touch and stood up to create some space between the two of you.

“Dove, listen to me. Please.” He was not above begging, still kneeled in the center of the room as his wings slumped to the ground. His eyes following your every move as you nervously ran your fingers through your hair.

“I feel it, I feel you.” His fingers and hands were steady as he pointed to his chest despite the feeling of anxiety creeping into him.

“You’re mine, my mate, dove.”

There was a beat of silence, Cassian staring at you as if you had delicately placed every beautiful star in the sky. But you had never seen him look at you like that before.

Never had he inclined he wanted you besides the bond. Gods, did it hurt. Your stomach churned sadly as your fingers balled into fist as you shook your head in denial.

“No. No, you don’t get to just suddenly want me because of the bond. I don’t want it this way.”

His frown deepened at your words, your emotions so heavily felt they started to crack the walls you kept up and pouring into the bond.

You had known for years. Five years, you had known and said nothing. “Gods, Cassian! I have loved you for so long. Prayed and begged to the Mother, to the Cauldron, to the Moon and Stars to have you return my affection and you didn’t.”

Cassian wanted to speak, to protest your words but the frustrated tears pouring down your beautiful face and the agony building in his chest, that was no longer just his, kept him quiet. “I’ve watched you pine and love others, and you have never looked at me that way. You had never thought me worthy of you in that way, and now that you know. It shouldn’t change a thing.”

“But it does,” His fingers itched to devote themselves to you. To memorize every curve and dip on your body. “It changes everything-”

You cut him off before he could continue, before he could tell you that he now felt worthy of loving you. That he now knew he could love you in a way you deserved if the Mother had blessed him with you as his wonderful mate. “Well it shouldn’t.”

You sniffled softly as you stared at him directly in his eyes, “I don’t want it to.”

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kitixie · 3 months

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I gave so many signs

summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.

one shot, song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

exile - Taylor Swift Lie to me - 5 Seconds of Summer (feat. Julia Michaels) Worst of you - Maisie Peters

warning: Present time, the past

Coming back home to Monaco always brought a sour smile to your face. You loved growing up in this strange small town where everyone knew each other and celebrities came to show off and then went back to wherever, to tell stories of Monte Carlo.

They say that you get to experience three very different real loves in your lifetime - and only if you're lucky, it would be with the same person. Your first love was Charles Leclerc.

I saw you lookin' brand new overnight I caught you lookin' too, but you didn't look twice

Visiting family was the reason why you always came back, but going out with the few girls from your high school who stayed there was a treat you dared not to miss. There is just something about hanging out with those people who helped you buy your first eyeshadow and with whom you pregamed at one of their step dad's dermatology office before you went on to try and get into any club that would allow you to get in. So there you were once again, at your old time spot, having a harder time to hold your alcohol since you'd passed the magic non hangover years. And to your luck, he walked in only a bare half an hour later than you.

Whenever you saw him, even after those years, it was like everyone else had dissapeared from the room. He seemed to age like wine.

It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me I know that you've been holding on to someone else And now I can't sleep

"Come here to me," you teased, moving closer to him. He tried to stop you and playfully pushed himself the furthest away from you on the couch. "Charlie, let me see!" you insisted and sat on top of him. You had to act quickly, there would be no way for you to keep the upper hand. He was just turning eighteen soon and the time in gym was starting to bring back results. "I do not have any hairline, Y/N," he gasped, annoyed. His tone changed. Back then you interpreted it as just him being done with your shit. Looking at it now, there probably was a different reason why he became more stiff. You sat on him, going through his hair and taking few photos, blissfully unaware. "I'll show this to you in a few years and we'll see! Ha!" Charles eyes were shooting arrows in your direction. You looked back at him, curious and not grasping the moment in the same way as he did. "What?" you asked simply. "Nothing..."

I can see you standing, honey With his arms around your body Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

You laughed a bit at that memory as you sipped your drink and tried your best to avoid keeping looking back at him as he sat with his current friends and an absolute gorgeous girl laughing at his joke. You knew who she was. Sometimes you peaked at his socials and then blocked him again right away. You certainly knew he had you blocked.

You went to different schools and Charles had his racing activities anyway. So you'd spent a lot of time texting. A lot.

It was just one of the horrifically long school days where you doubted the point of your existence. Life had to be more than sitting in a pointless computer science class. You wanted to be a big lawyer girl boss one day, so why would you ever care about programming. There you were, staring at the assignment from your teacher who was stuck in 20th century anyway, having little to no clue what to do. As you'd usually do, you texted Charles. You bombed him with twenty texts demanding attention, before he finally responded. "OMG i thought someone had died" "i am dying charles" "no your not" "*you're" "i can go back to my race simulator if you keep being a little shit" "nooo, please dont go. you're my only hope. sorry, your. i get it, you got out of the school too early." "that's it, i'm gone" "noo, please stay, I'll be nice and say nice things about you" "i'm staying, go on" "you are absolutely gorgeous" "yes, agree. more" "you are soo funny, amazing, future heart breaker and your passion for racing is so inspiring" "i like this. more"

Second, third, and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury

You were inseparable, yet nobody knew. Always meeting alone, because you did not need anyone and your social circles didn't really meet together. Whenever he was back in town, the two of you hit up your favorite café or hang out at his house and then go for a walk. You two walked around Monte Carlo as if you were suppose to be the cartographers creating the first map of that area ever. Those were the good old days that came to end very unexpectedly.

We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (Didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

His hands were shaking when he sent the email. But he just could not take it anymore. He was over the moon in love with you and didn't know how to contain it.

"there is no easy way to say this. i love you. sorry. i'm stupid and i know we're just friends. but i basically live only for racing and seeing you. i'm terrified of seeing you with someone else. if there is at least a cell in your body that feels the same, please let's meet up and talk about it. if not, do not reply and i will never mention this again and deal with it. i love you."

You were seventeen when you got his message out of the blue. A scared little girl who was petrified of feelings and anything relationship related. So you never replied to his email.

All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around (I couldn't turn things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (You never gave a warning sign)

Charles had a very little hope that you'd feel the same - why would you, you were such an amazing person, kind, fun and totally glorified in his eyes, so he could not even imagine him being worthy of you. But what if? What if he was enough? With every day when you did not respond to his email, his heart sank lower. Still, the pain of the first rejection is a hard one to take, because it's usually from a scared unexperienced heart to another and the clumsiness causes great deal of accidental collateral damage one remembers until the end of their life.

You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out

You texted him from school few days after that - a normal text, as if nothing happened. Both of you were too chicken to address the situation openly. So he opted for buring his feeling and you for playing like you had no idea. Deep down, you always knew, even before he emailed you. You two texted, continued to meet up. But it was never the same again.

Flashing back to New York City I was done, but you undid me Classic me to run when it feels right

It was hard to get closure for you. After all that had happened and the mess you two made for each other was a hard lesson you remembered vividly. You glanced at your first love again - and finally you met his look, after almost two years of managing to missing each other while you were both back in Monaco. You'd daydreamed about bumping into him, the two of you chatting and smiling again. The world stopped again for few moments. He shot you an unsure quick half smile that said it all. You knew him too well for that.

And now I wish we never met 'Cause you're too hard to forget While I'm cleaning up your mess I know he's taking off your dress

It was your prom night and you could not be more excited. All your friends were here, family, even Charles managed to get in town to watch you dance and drink all night. You had the night of your life, perfect end to end this chapter of life. The excitement your eyes held was contagious. You spent the first half of your evening with the family and Charles, sharing few dances and laughs. If felt like the good old days. But one shot of tequila led to another and there you were, drunk as pirate and unhinged like a teenage girl. Charles did his best to keep your parents at bay, keep them occupied while he got one of his friends to take care of you. He was worried you might do something stupid, like walk up to the stage and fall down breaking all of your bones. Finally, your parents decided to leave without saying goodbye to you after Charles spent a good half an hour convincing then you were just in the back stage and that he'd get you home safe. When they were gone, he began to search for you, only to finally find you, sitting on the stairs, making out with the friend he assigned to you.

So take me to every party and just talk to your friends Why don't you let me down, I'll let you do it again Go on and walk all over me, just don't walk away Give me the worst of you 'Cause I want you anyway

It was like being cut open alive and having people watch. There was nothing even remotely graceful about your actions, you were literally sitting on the floor having a battle of tongues with another drunk teenagers while people had to walk pass you. It was embarrassing. Charles didn't know what to do. He wanted to run away and never come back, but he couldn't leave you there alone. He couldn't bring himself to stop the two of you, because he was just too sad and heartbroken to do so. He just stayed nearby and kept an eye on you. It was one of the longest nights in his life.

You couldn't remember the second half of your prom night and Charles would never speak of it, even though you begged him many times. He always became stiff and started to leave the room. You only kept asking, because it marked one of the biggest shifts in your friendships. He became cold, unresponsive and after few weeks, he stopped communicating completely.

You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before

Funny how people's faces change with years, but the eyes stay the same. The eyes and the look. Charles looked at you the second time this evening. It was like staring back at the eighteen year old boy who was drowning in his feeling.

It was one of your last nights in Monaco before leaving for university. Finally, your dreams were coming true. You were more than ready to get our to show the world you were a force to be recogned with. You send Charles countless messages before your final departure, at that moment, you were sure you'll never ever get back to Monaco and wanted to at least understand why he became distant with you. One evening, he finally agreed to meet up and talk. You were over the moon. You could always turn Charles over, he was one the very few people you were sure shared the same soul as you. It was as if you'd never stopped talking. Jokes flying everywhere, the two of you strolling around, having no idea this would be the last time (and maybe, that was better for you at the time). There was so much to share, you two kept talking over each other for hours. Charles was happy when you finally stopped to take a breath for a moment. You looked in the eye and saw a look you'd seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in your mind and out of nowhere, you were kissing the boy you'd been unknowingly in love for years. You'd realize that you loved him only once you started dating a random guy from your college, expecting the same feeling this kiss with Charles gave you. But it never came. Had you known, you'd have stayed with him. He tried to convince you to start dating him. Almost begged you to try it with him long distance. But there was a whole world for you to discover, places to be and versions of you that needed discovering. You had kissed only once. But it was a kiss of a lifetime. He blocked you on all socials after you rejected him again.

I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (You never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) So many signs, so many signs You didn't even see the signs

The girls were laughing at some joke you missed while digging in your memory for traces of your first love. Charles Leclerc. He was sitting few tables away from you. This time, your heart sank as he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek as they walked away from the bar. You wanted to run to him, to talk to him again after all those years. To tell him the same thing he once emailed you. To explain that you were just too young to notice you had the love of your life right next to you. But you knew all too well what his answer would be. And just like he had back then, you never wanted to hear it out loud.

And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

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kitixie · 3 months

Text

my girl | op81 cs16

summary: mafia!oscar is possessive over his best friend who he hasn’t seen in months due to his work. he has to step in when a rival tries to ignore his city wide ban on her. inspired by this brainrot from j about mafia oscar

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. possessive oscar, degradation, carlos being tied up, reader getting fucked in front of carlos, mentions of violence (its a mafia au what do you expect?) unprotected sex, marking, etc.

author’s note: will eventually write about them talking. but wanted to post and am too tired. this is 7.7k worth of smut. please let me know what you think 🫶🏻

Carlos has always known about the protective order, it’s part of what makes the chase so fun. He’d seen her around town and asked about her and his men told him she was off limits, deemed so by the leader of his rival gang. Many told him they’d tried hitting on her and were later threatened by someone to stay away from her, usually when they went for a drink or a piss. Carlos wants to laugh at the idea of someone scaring his men away from a woman, but then someone says they know people have been beaten half to death for getting too handsy in a club, people who disappeared when they didn’t listen to the warnings.

Carlos is the one she’s dancing with when Oscar finds them, Lando had pointed out her presence in his club when she arrived and he’d been searching for her. It would have been preferable to find her with anyone except his rival, but there she was, in a slinky black dress with her arms around his neck and his thigh slotted between hers. He’s sure his rival is here just to bother him, but he has a rule where no business is conducted on club grounds, so if Carlos is just here to party, he won’t start trouble. But this- he knows Carlos knows that she’s off limits by his own word. He can’t help the way his possessive side comes out when she sees her grinding against his rival.

Oscar doesn’t think twice before he sandwiches her between them, his hands resting over Carlos’s and the man’s eyes flutter open. He grins wickedly at Oscar, the very man who has a do not touch order on the woman he is very much touching right now. Carlos pulls her closer and presses his thigh up and she whimpers, her head falling back to rest on the shoulder of the new body behind her when the smell of his cologne hits her. It makes sense why the touch felt so familiar, why she felt so comfortable when a stranger joined them. Oscar.

She would have frozen if Carlos wasn’t guiding her body with his, she suddenly feels exposed as her best friend trails his hands down her hips. Suddenly, he tugs her back against him and at the same time, he pushes Carlos’s leg away and replaces it with his own. “Really? Didn’t think you think you had it in you to be riding a thigh in the back of some club.” The alcohol coursing through her veins prevents her from thinking clearly enough to remember he’s her best friend and best friends don’t do this; ban others from touching them and then interrupt their would be hookup, but it feels so natural she doesn’t think twice about rocking her hips down on his thigh.

His lips brush against the shell of her ear and he feels his rival try to guide her body back to his but he tightens his grip and holds her to his chest. “Don’t fucking think about it, Sainz.” Her mind splinters as she realizes they know each other, that Carlos definitely knows about the rule she didn’t know about until a few nights before when one of her best friend’s new buddies told her of it. She wants to ask him where he went, where he’s been for the past six months, but he presses his thigh into her pussy and she can’t do anything but gasp. She can feel him smirk as he rocks his body against hers, and she leans into him unconsciously.

His next words send a shiver down her spine, “Were you planning on taking her home?” Carlos nods and her stomach tightens, pussy fluttering at the thought. Oscar’s fingers twitch against her hips and he presses her down against his thigh. She lets out a moan as her clit rubs his thigh and he asks her, “You think he could make you cum? Is that why you’re here tonight, looking to get fucked?” She can’t help but nod, her hands tugging Carlos’s hair as she rolls her hips against Oscar’s thigh desperately. Carlos tries once again to pull her back to him and Oscar snaps, “You’re in my fucking club, Sainz, remember that. My girl, my club.” His sharp tone causes Carlos to stop pulling on her. He’s never called her his girl before and it makes her moan embarrassingly, in shock and satisfaction at hearing the words she’s always longed to hear. Oscar directs his next words to her, “Did you know that, doll? You came to my club, looking for cock.” She gasps at his words, wondering how her childhood friend could own a club, but he doesn’t give her time to ask for clarification before one of his hands slips between her thighs and presses against her panties. “You came to the right place, baby, I’ll give you what you want.” She grinds against his hand as Carlos glares at them, her eyes lock with his and she can see the hatred burning in them as her lips part in a moan when Oscar’s fingers slide her panties to the side and find her clit easily.

She doesn’t know where he’s been, what happened to him, hadn’t heard from him other than occasional texts or flower deliveries. She doesn’t think this is her Oscar, the sweet boy who picked daisies for her on the playground, or the one who makes her soup when she’s sick. No, this is someone she doesn’t know. This is an Oscar she hasn’t met before, one who bans a city of men from dating her because she’s his. One who owns clubs and claims her like this in them. She wants to know where her Oscar went, but she doesn’t want this Oscar to leave her. She’s drunk on him, soaking in the feeling of his middle finger swirling around her clit as his lips begin working at a mark on the side of her throat. Her head lobs to the side, and his lips drift further south. It’s like he’s searching for something when he pulls her hair back and ghosts his lips over the nape of her neck. Then he’s whispering in her ear, “Where is it?”

Her mind spins with confusion and she mumbles, “What?”

He nips at the lobe of her ear then growls, “The necklace. Where. Is. It?”

She shivers at his tone and one of her hands leaves Carlos’s neck to reach for the bare spot on her chest, where his initials have hung for years, but finds nothing. She almost panics before she remembers how she specifically took it off, not wanting his initials branding her when she went out looking for another man tonight. She doesn’t have to say it. He knows, and it makes him angry. The fact that she’s worn that necklace every day since he gifted it to her, but chose tonight to take it off. He bites her throat, really bites it, she think there might be a bruise tomorrow in the shape of his teeth, but the thought turns her on instead of angering it the way it should. The possessive gnash of his teeth on her flesh hurts, digging in enough that the momentary pleasure turns to pain and she’s clamping her thighs around his and whimpering.

Carlos watches the act, doesn’t know what Oscar whispers to her, but he sees his lips move, feels her hand leave his hair and meet her blank chest, lips parting in a silent gasp. Then Oscar’s giving Carlos a look that should scare him, as he sinks his teeth into her flesh. Her eyes flutter shut and he sees a grimace of pain on her face as Oscar releases his hold. Then, he bares his teeth at Carlos as he slides the strap of her dress down before sinking his teeth into her shoulder, and her other hand leaves Carlos to reach and tangle into Oscar’s hair. When he releases the second bite, he grunts, “We’re leaving.” He says it to Carlos, and something about it tells him to follow, that Oscar wants him to follow. She looks at Oscar like she’s in love, turning her head to him and brushing her nose against his cheek affectionately.

She’s not expecting Carlos to follow them or Oscar to let him follow and climb into the backseat while Oscar opens the passenger door and ushers her in. He even buckles her in, pressing a kiss to her hand before he ducks out of the car and shuts the door before rounding the car and climbing into the driver’s seat. She assumes they’re going to Oscar’s, she isn't sure where that is anymore, she tried going to visit and it was up for rent, and he didn’t return her texts to hang out. It sends a pang of hurt to her heart, the way he’s ignored her for months, and the anger she should have felt earlier begins to set in as she realizes he’s been ignoring her until he saw her with another man. He seems to sense her unease and rests and hand on her knee, she wishes it didn’t, but his touch immediately relaxes her and the thoughts fade away.

Instead of Oscar’s mysterious new place, she finds herself recognizing the route back to her apartment. She stays silent the entire ride, wondering what Oscar’s planning in his head. Once they make it inside her apartment, Oscar grabs a dining chair and begins walking towards her bedroom, so she follows him, Carlos in tow. Oscar sets the chair in front of the bed and she waits behind it, Carlos by her side, as he begins looking through her dresser. A moment later, he pulls out a tie, an old one either he or an ex left behind. “Sit, Sainz.”

The older man rolls his eyes and crosses his arms across his chest, “Like hell you’re tying me up.”

Oscar glares at him through the vanity mirror as he begins searching through the jewelry box on top, “Sit down, or get the fuck out.” She glances between them and Carlos looks at her, probably expecting her to speak out for him, but she does nothing. He sits. Oscar turns a moment later, a gold chain in one hand and the tie in the other. She recognizes it instantly, and her hand drifts back up to the space just under her collar bone where the gold letters always sit. He doesn’t have to ask her to lift her hair when he moves behind her, she does it automatically and he clasps his initials around her neck like a collar, brushing his fingers over the still darkening teeth marks on her skin. He nudges her aside and crouches behind Carlos, tugging his arms behind the chair and tying his wrists together. Carlos instinctively tries to pull his arms away when Oscar finishes to test the knot, but it holds. Oscar pats his shoulder as he stands and mockingly says, “Good boy. Now stay.”

The order makes Carlos see red, and he begins to react, to jerk up and out of the chair and smash his fist into Oscar’s jaw, but the knot fights his strength and the position he’d tied in holds him back against the chair so he can’t even stand up. He slumps back after a moment of writhing, Oscar’s hand burning a hole through his shirt. He realizes then he’s about to be made to watch them fuck, not partake like he’d foolishly thought at the club. He should have known, should have let them leave and found someone else to sink his cock into.

He can hear lips smacking and then they’re in his side view as Oscar pushes her towards the bed. His cock twitches in his jeans as he watches Oscar unravel her with a kiss, her hands grasping at his shirt to pull him closer as she pushes herself up on her toes to kiss him harder, moaning into his mouth. He can feel his heart pumping faster, can feel the blood pumping through his entire body as he fights the restraints. Oscar easily lifts her onto the bed and her legs wrap around him automatically, grinding her pelvis against his and she moans again. It’s easily the hottest thing he’s ever seen, he can tell Oscar is putting his all into the kiss and she’s taking it all and giving herself to him. He’s never wanted to be anyone other than himself, but in this moment be would kill to be Oscar.

The instant Oscar’s lips are on hers, the man she met earlier in the night vanished from memory. She can’t get enough of him, if she thought his lips on her neck earlier felt good, this was euphoric. He keeps biting her lip too, nipping and sucking at them before slipping his tongue back into her mouth. She’s never been kissed so good before, she never wants to stop kissing him. Then he pulls away, tugs her lower lip between his teeth before letting it smack against her upper lip and diving in for another sweltering kiss. She can feel how wet she is in her panties, the feeling of soaking fabric would be annoying if the ridge of his cock wasn’t pressed against her. She wondered if she was soaking through his jeans with how wet she was, if he could feel how hot she was for him down there.

It’s as if he can read her mind, his hands on her hips pull her closer and he grinds his hips against hers as he pulls back from the kiss. He brings one hand up to curl around the dainty letters hanging at her throat and she imagines him twisting the chain around his fist to choke her with it. The image makes her whimper and she looks up at him, awaiting.. something. Oscar licks his lips, can taste her strawberry lip balm on his own lips, the same one she’s used since she found it a decade ago and hailed it as her personal holy grail. He knows the taste well from having borrowed it over the years, but it’s much better coming from her own lips. He keeps the chain hanging from a finger as he lifts his hand to her jaw and squeezes lightly, “Open.” She blinks slowly at him and it reminds him of her cat, he wonders where it is, he didn’t notice the orange pest when he walked in, and then forgets about it again as her jaw falls open and she blinks at him again, just as slowly as before. He leans down over her and gathers saliva in his mouth before spitting onto her awaiting tongue. She flinches as he spits but doesn’t close her mouth, just blinks a few times in quick succession as her cunt throbs with need. She’d expected him to press the necklace into her mouth, not spit. She’s too turned on by the possessive act to be grossed out, and then he tells her to swallow it and she can’t help but moan as he presses her jaw closed for her.

Carlos has never heard something so erotic as the sound that leaves her when she swallows Oscar’s spit. The sound is so needy, he can feel precum dribble out of his cock as he squeezes his eyes shut and imagines she’s making that sound for him. He opens his eyes again when he hears her gasp and finds Oscar on his knees between her legs. She’s blushing and staring right at Carlos like she’s forgotten about him in the time that Oscar was kissing her. He clenches his jaw then teases, “Forget I was here? You look surprised to see me.”

Oscar laughs from his place between her thighs, “Haven’t even touched you yet, and I’m all you can think about, hm? I told you she was my girl, Sainz.” Carlos growls at the words but doesn’t deny them. Neither does she. There’s no point, not when her cheeks flush more at his words and she looks down at him fondly as she pushes his hair back off his forehead, leaving her hands curled in his hair. He watches as Oscar leans into her touch momentarily, imagines he’s letting his eyes flutter shut as he relaxes into her. Then, his hands are on her legs and he’s pressing a kiss to her knee before stands back up. He tugs at them hem of her dress, and she lifts her hips so he can pull it up. She automatically raises her hands above her head so he can lift it off, then lets her hands fall to his chest as he drops the dress behind him on the floor, his hands finding new purchase on her thighs. They teasingly slide up until they meet her panties and he hooks his fingers into them and tugs. She lifts her hips again so he can pull them down her legs. He kneels like before, pressing her legs apart so he can fit between them. Her hands find his hair again, running through it before stopping halfway through and resting on the crown of his head.

Her eyes meet Carlos’s again, briefly, before he looks down to take in how bare she is. The gold letters glint at Carlos as his eyes rake down her body. They’re the only thing remaining on her, marked with bite marks on either side of the gold chain and a hickey further up her throat. Her tits are as nice as he imagined, as plump as they looked in her dress. He wishes he could touch them, kiss them. Disappointingly, Oscar’s blocking the view of her pussy with his head.

Oscar’s lips find her thigh and he begins trailing kisses up her thighs until he meets her center, her hips unconsciously shift to meet his mouth. She keeps her eyes on him as he sucks his lower lip between his teeth and brings his hands up to part her lips. He groans at the sight, and his warm breath against her makes her shiver. He lets his lower lip fall free as he leans forward and presses his lips to her swollen clit. The action makes her stomach twitch and she whines, pressing her hips forwards again for more contact. He pulls back and she huffs impatiently, but before she can complain he leans back in and flattens his tongue against her, licking from her entrance to her clit before sucking the bud between his lips.

She pulls her lower lip between her teeth as she lets out a moan and Carlos groans, wishing he was the one tasting her. Her hands leave Oscar’s hair to press into the sheets and her head falls back between her shoulders as a louder moan spills from her lips. He tries again to slip out of the tie around his wrists, but doesn’t feel it give, doesn’t hear the fabric begin to tear. The skin around his wrists is sore already from his attempts to get out, he doesn’t know what will happen if he does get out, but he needs to touch her like Oscar is. She looks delectable as Oscar pushes her legs up to rest on his shoulders and nuzzles his face into her pussy. She arches her back as she falls back on the bed, catching herself on her elbows at the last minute. Her hands find her tits and she whines blissfully. Carlos watches as she pinches and tugs at her nipples while grinding her hips against Oscar’s face, her brows scrunching and lips parting each time a moan slips out. He would do anything to touch her right now, he can’t think straight because of how good she looks. His mouth is watering, he keeps licking his lips and swallowing down the spit that gathers in his mouth. It’s unfair. Carlos has never been more turned on his life, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Oscar moans against her pussy, he’s never tasted something so good in his life. This is where he’s meant to be, between his best friend’s legs with his tongue fucking inside of her. She sounds like an angel above him, whimpering his name and grinding on his face. When he flutters his eyes open and looks up at her, he’s blessed with the sight of her glossy eyes staring back at him. Her perky nipples are pinched between her fingers and she twists them as he moans against her again. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment as her head tips back and she moans, but then she licks her lips as she reopens them and cries, “Feels so good Osc, ‘m so close.”

He really can’t help but moan again as she clenches around his tongue and he shakes his head to the side, his nose bumping her clit. He suddenly pulls his tongue from her hole and he licks flat up to her clit before mumbling, “Cum for me.” At the same time, he slips two fingers into her entrance and curls them. He reattaches his lips to her clit and sucks softly, gently nipping it with his teeth. He’s rewarded by her thighs clamping around his head and a warm gush around his fingers as she moans sweetly.

Carlos can hear the slick squelching noises coming from Oscar’s fingers in her as she cums, mixed with the sounds of their moans. He wants to mock Oscar for moaning into her pussy, but knows he’d be doing the same in his position. He can’t believe he’s fucking drooling watching his rival eat the object of his fantasies out. At this point, if Oscar told him he could touch her if he begged, he’d get on his hands and knees and kiss the floor at his feet for a chance at tasting the nectar between her thighs.

Oscar doesn’t stop lapping at her pussy until her thighs relax around him, then he suddenly releases his hold and kisses his way up her body. A moment later, his wet hand is grabbing her jaw and pulling her in for a hot kiss. Oscar’s hips grind against her’s as he kisses her, licking into her mouth as he moans. She can feel her pussy clenching around nothing as his cock rubs against her through his jeans. She detaches her right hand from her now sore nipple and drags it down his chest to slip under his shirt and press to his abdomen. “Fuck me, please, Oscar.” She pulls back from the kiss and whines, rubbing her nose against his softly.

He grins and stands to look back to Carlos. He looks angry and turned on, Oscar can see his cock hard in his jeans, and can feel the anger radiating off of him. He can’t help but tease, “You look fucked.”

Carlos snarls at him and tries to fight the restraints again and Oscar laughs. Laughs. He looks fucking gleeful, his slick mouth opening wide as he squeezes his eyes shut, his head falling back. Carlos tries to stand and can’t, and it makes Oscar laugh harder. Then, suddenly he goes quiet and his face softens, but he looks at Carlos with pity, not fondness. “Be good, and I might let you cum.” The idea that Oscar has any control over Carlos makes his stomach twist, and he spits at Oscar. It lands on his shirt and the older man smirks. The younger man returns it and leaves his place between her legs and grabs Carlos’s jaw. He can taste her on Oscar’s fingers when he squeezes his jaw and shoves two inside.

Carlos gags as they hit the back of his throat and pants, his tongue unwillingly pressing out. Oscar smirks as he spreads his fingers and forces Carlos’s mouth wider, then spits on his tongue. Anger flares through Carlos and he tries to yank his arms free, tries to jerk his face out of Oscar’s hold, but it only hurts his wrists and forces Oscar’s fingers back into his throat. He hears her gasp behind Oscar and feels humiliated at the thought of her witnessing this.

Oscar groans at the feeling of his fingers spreading his spit over Carlos’s tongue. “Can you taste her? Does she taste good?” He’s surprised the older man isn’t biting his fingers off when they press into his throat and he fucks them into it twice. He retracts them at the idea and the man’s mouth snaps shut, he can feel his jaw tensing under his fingers as he grits his teeth and swallows. He lifts his knee and presses it into the man’s crotch, softly, and is rewarded with his eyes fluttering shut and his head tipping back as his jaw relaxes and his lips part. Then he seems to catch himself and his eyes jerk open and he kicks Oscar away with a grunt.

Oscar releases his hold and turns back to find she’s made herself at home in the pillows. He strips himself quickly before joining her on the bed, grabbing her ankles and pulling her to the center. She lets out a surprised squeal and his stomach flutters at the grin that briefly takes over her face. He trails his hands up her legs and taps at her thighs. “Sit up for me.” His voice is soft and she instantly follows the command. She pushes herself up with her elbows, then hands, and tucks her knees under her as he slips behind her.

As soon as he moves, she locks eyes with Carlos and her entire body flushes as she takes in the way he looks. She can see his chest rapidly rising and falling, can hear the pants falling from his lips as he stares at them. He’s not glaring anymore, his eyes have glazed over and he just looks starved. Or fucked, as Oscar said. He meets her eye and she almost wants to ask Oscar to take pity on him and untie him, but then he’s lifting her hips and she can feel his cock against her ass. She wishes she had taken a look at it when he was in front of her, but she was too preoccupied thinking about her best friend spitting in Carlos’s mind. She breaks eye contact with Carlos to look down as Oscar’s hand sides from her hip to between her legs and watches as he swirls them around her clit before slipping two back inside.

Carlos finds himself following her gaze down and is met by the sight of Oscar’s fingers dipping inside of her. He looks back up to catch her reaction and finds she’s tipping her head back on Oscar’s shoulder as she gasps. He watches as she lifts a hand to curl it in Oscar’s hair behind her, to pull him impossibly closer. Her other hand wraps around his wrist to keep it between her thighs. He can feel Oscar staring at him and he meets the boy’s eyes.

Oscar curls his fingers as Carlos looks at him and she whines. “She’s so pretty, yeah? See why I won’t let anyone else touch her?” Carlos nods stupidly, he wouldn’t let anyone touch her either. Oscar smiles a little as he continues, “Haven’t done this before, y’know?” He presses a kiss to her neck and she sighs, tilting her head to the side to give him more room but he leaves it at one chaste kiss. “She’s so perfect, I didn’t wanna ruin her.”

She arches her back and presses her hips down on his hand, his fingers brush deeper inside her and she mewls. “Want you to ruin me, Oz.”

He snickers at her words, “I’m going to, and he’s going to watch. Gonna enjoy it too, aren’t you? You’re going to love every minute of it, watching me make her mine.” Oscar pulls his fingers from her cunt, she tries to push his hand back into place but he shakes her off and brings his hand around to wrap around his cock. She relaxes when she feels his hand behind her and realizes he’s about to replace his fingers with his cock.

He sighs as he guides the head of his cock to her entrance, dragging it through her slick to bump her clit. “Can’t believe I waited this long, can you, baby?”

She tugs his hair as she shakes her head, “Too long, Osc.” He slips his cock back to her entrance and she feels him press inside slowly. A whine leaves her lips at the instant stretch and she reaches behind her to grasp at his thigh, “Oh god, you’re big.” He presses further in and moans into her ear. He lets her adjust for a moment, his hands find her hips and he strokes his thumb across the skin soothingly as she pulsates around him. Then, he suddenly tugs her flush against him. She screams at the sudden intrusion, she can feel him in her stomach as he bottoms out. It burns, her cunt clenching around him helplessly to accommodate him. She almost falls forward but he catches her before she can, his hand quickly sliding up her body and wrapping around her throat to hold him against her. He doesn’t put any real pressure on her throat, just holds her.

Carlos can’t tear his eyes away from the pair, he can see her pussy stretching around Oscar’s cock, can see her slick soaking his cock. His own cock twitched at the sound of her scream and dribbled precum at the sight of her taking the other man’s cock. He finds himself wishing he hadn’t kicked Oscar’s momentary touch away. Her entire body is stretched out for Carlos to see, Oscar’s hand keeping her in place around her throat. The pretty gold necklace taunting him. She looks so fucked out just from Oscar being in her, mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering open and closed like she can’t keep them open but she wants to see. The idea that she wants to see Carlos in front of him makes him groan.

The sound piques Oscar’s interest, distracting him from the feeling of her squeezing him. “She feels so fucking good, mate.” He shifts his hips, barely drawing out before pushing back in, to see if she’s ready. When she moans and it doesn’t sound pained, he repeats the action. “Feel good, baby? You like taking my cock?”

She sighs and nods, “Feels so good.” His hand on her hip moves between her thighs, skimming over the soft patch of hair there before he finds her pussy. He presses two fingers to her entrance around his cock, slicking them up before her drags them to her clit and begins tracing his name into her clit one letter at a time. Her entire body convulses on the R shape, so he repeats it and he feels her thighs twitching against him.

Carlos looks defeated to Oscar. He’s slumped over in the chair, head hanging limply as he watches them. He keeps licking his lips and swallowing, but that’s all he’s doing. Watching Oscar’s cock slowly thrust in and out of her. He decides to give him a show. He picks up the pace of his thrusts and the room is filled with the sound of her moans and his pants, the slick squelching of his cock entering her eat time and his skin slapping against hers. Her back is arched beautifully, probably painfully, as she tugs on Oscar’s hair and presses herself back on his cock each time he pulls out.

It doesn’t take long for her to come unraveled, he can feel it before she tells him, the way her cunt flutters and her stomach contracts. It almost does it in when she tells him, whiny and breathless, “‘M gonna cum.”

He brings his lips down to her ear and says, “Cum around my cock, pretty.” She moans at his words and he presses harder on her clit, fucking into her harder. He sinks into her neck again, just under her ear, and the pain sends her over the edge. He holds her against him as she tries to pull away with the force of her orgasm, he wants Carlos to see it all. He keeps his eyes on the man as he fucks her through it until she finally goes lax in his grip and he lets go, of the bite and his hand around her throat and she slumps forward. He feels bad when she doesn’t even catch herself, lets herself fall face first into the plush mattress. Her body shivers once more from the sensitivity of her orgasm as Oscar leans over her and his cock shifts again. He looks Carlos in the eye as he says, “She’s my cockdumb whore, got it?” Then sinks his teeth into her shoulder. She whines and tries to jerk away but he bites harder and she stops squirming. Her pussy flutters around him blissfully and he groans against her skin. When he releases the bite, he flicks his tongue over the indents of his teeth and kisses it before pulling back to admire it. He brings his hand that was around her throat to press into it and she whimpers. His voice suddenly goes soft as he softens his touch and traces the outline and coos, “You want me to stop? Is it too much, honey?”

She shakes her head, spit slick lips dragging against her duvet as she mumbles, “Feels good.” She knows he can’t understand the muffled words as soon as they leave her and she quickly turns her head and presses her cheek into the sheets and repeats it clearly.

He presses down on the mark, “Yeah? You like it when I bite you? Mark you?” She repeats herself again, and he grins. His hand trails down her back until it rests on her hip and he pushes himself back up. “You’re so fucking wet, baby, all for me. Soaking my cock.” He wants to fuck her like this, with her face buried in the sheets, staring at her pretty ass, but he has a better idea. He pulls himself out of her, his grip tightening on her hips as she pushes back to chase his cock. He taps her hip with one hand, “Roll over, on your back.” She huffs but follows the order, rolling onto her back then shuffling underneath him. She automatically lifts her legs and wraps them around him to pull him closer. He allows it, brings his hands to rest on her hips and lifts her, holds her to her chest and shifts them closer to the edge of the bed then drops her, her head hangs off the edge and Carlos has the perfect view of her face and the necklace sitting pretty between her tits. He hadn’t realized his grip had tightened so much when she was cumming, but there’s a pink imprint of his hand. He wants Carlos so watch him fuck her like this, in the perfect position for her mouth to be fucked by him, but restricted from doing so.

Oscar lines back up with her entrance before he places his hands on her thighs and buries his cock in her in one swift movement. She chokes on a moan, and Oscar finds himself jealous of the sight Carlos gets when she arches her back and claws at the sheets. He tightens his grip on her hips to hold her steady as he sets a bruising pace, eyes locked on where her pussy stretches around his cock. He hears her whimper and casts his gaze up to see she’s playing with her tits again, squeezing them with both hands before pinching her nipples and repeating the action. He releases his right hand and grabs her hand to press it into the sheets, then dips down and wraps his lips around the abandoned nipple. Her hand fights his grip and he releases it out of curiosity, and she tangles it in his hair as she moans, “Oscar, more.” He lets go of her nipple and mouths at the flesh of her breast before he sinks his teeth into it. Her legs tighten around him and she moans sweetly, he releases the flesh before he cups the back of her head and pulls her in for a kiss.

She whimpers into Oscar’s mouth as his cock brushes her sweet spot on every thrust. Her hands find purchase on his shoulders for a moment before she curls them around his neck to hold him against her. His nails scratch against her scalp as he licks into her mouth. She can feel him all over her, fingers digging into her hip and scalp, his cock in her stomach, sweaty chest pressed against hers. She drops her head back to gasp for air and his lips find purchase on her throat, nipping and sucking harshly. She meets Carlos’s eye again and licks her lips as she thinks about his cock in her mouth. His lips are bitten red and she wants to taste them, see if she can taste herself, taste Oscar, on his tongue.

She’s suddenly overwhelmed by pleasure when the hand on her hip moves and he presses his thumb to her clit. Her back arches as she moans his name, fingers slipping into his hair and tugging as he nips at the column of her throat. Oscar moans softly before teasing, “G’na cum around my cock already? So good for me.” His words push her over the edge a third time and she tightens her legs around him so he can’t move as her orgasm rocks through her. He resigns himself to grinding his cock into her, apparently perfectly so because her moans suddenly get pitchier and she writhes beneath him. Her pussy is hugging his cock so well, pulsating around him as her orgasm rolls through her body. She collapses underneath him after a moment and gasps for air. He pushes himself up to look at Carlos, his own cock twitches at the sight of his rival. He kind of looks pretty the same way she does, red lips and glossy eyes. His cheeks and nose are flushed and his hair looks soft, nice to run his fingers through. He looks down the other man’s body, to the obvious bulge in his jeans and feels his stomach stir. It probably hurts, he almost feels sorry for him.

He squeezes his eyes shut and pushes the thoughts aside, refocuses his attention on his best friend beneath him when he reopens his eyes. Her tits are bouncing with every thrust, the necklace shining in the light. He leans down and captures the pendant between his teeth then drops it into her own mouth, hanging off the bed. She instantly closes her mouth around it and whines. “That’s my girl. You look so fucking good like this. Doesn’t she Sainz?”

Carlos lifts his head slightly and groans, “Fucking incredible.” He wants to ignore Oscar, tell him to fuck off and untie him, but he’d agree to anything right now. She whines at his words and he instinctively bucks his hips up in search of friction and moans pitifully when he finds none.

Oscar dips his mouth back down to wrap around her right nipple, tugging on the bud with his teeth before sucking on it. She pets the back of his head as she sighs and presses into his touch. He’s so fucking close, he’s barely holding himself together as he quickens his pace to bring her to the edge with him. He stops circling her clit with his thumb and traces the letter R again, and she begins trembling around him again. “You almost there, baby? Gonna fill you up, mark you as mine.” A long, drawn out moan falls from her lips and she grips him so tight he almost explodes, but then she gasps, “Please, ‘m so close.” He groans against her skin and drags his lips from her breast back to her throat and skins his teeth into the flesh. Her body seizes under him as her orgasm crashes over her and the feeling of her gushing around his cock again sends him over the edge. He releases his bite to moan against her skin, pressing his lips to the indents his teeth made. His entire body shudders as he spills his seed inside of her, he can’t help but press his hand into her stomach to feel his cock bulging out.

Carlos has never been harder in his life as much as he would like to protest it. His jeans have a dark spot where his cock has been steadily leaking precum and it aches with a need to be touched he hasn’t felt before. He groans as he watches Oscar empty himself in her, his ears burning from the sounds of their mixed moans. It’s a sinful sight, Oscar rolling his hips into hers and her blinking dazedly at Carlos as her orgasm crashes through her. He finds himself moaning as he grinds his hips into nothing, feebly searching for satisfaction. She finds it in herself to grin at him, before her mouth falls back into an O as a moan spills past her lips and her eyes roll back.

Oscar pulls back from her throat when he’s sure he’s done cumming, but the sight of the marks on her throat and chest force another ribbon of cum out of him and he hisses. He slowly pulls out of her and immediately moves to Carlos, pressing his knee into the man’s crotch again. He doesn’t fight it this time, so Oscar curls a hand in his hair and forces him to look up at him. “She’s mine, got it?” Carlos nods as best he can with the hand holding his hair. “Say it.”

Carlos grits his teeth before admitting, “She’s yours.” Oscar nods, pleased. He maintains his hold but steps away from Carlos, turning back to his friend. “Darling, come to me.” She whines but rolls over and sits up, crawling to the edge of the bed before she swings her legs off the edge and stands. She wobbles and tips forwards into Oscar, he catches her then lowers her to the floor between Carlos’s legs. Oscar presses her face down with a gentle hand on the back of her head and she immediately places her hands on Carlos’s thighs and leans in. She lets her mouth hover over the wet spot before Oscar gives her another nudge and she begins lapping at his cock through his jeans. The moan he lets out goes straight to her cunt and she clenches around nothing, Oscar’s cum dripping out of her to the hardwood floor beneath her. She moans at the taste of him on her tongue and sucks at the fabric, earning another moan from Carlos.

Oscar’s once again struck by the thought that Carlos looks pretty when his eyes flutter shut and his lips part in a moan. He lightly tugs on his hair, not to be mean, just because he wants to, and is rewarded by a soft sigh and Carlos pushing his head back against Oscar’s hand. He tightens his grip and pulls harder, drawing a moan from the other man. “Look at her,” he coos and releases his hold on Carlos so his head drops again. He moans at the sight of her mouthing at him through his jeans, at the feeling. “She’s only doing it because of me. You get to cum because of me.”

Carlos groans at his words, his cock twitching at the bare mention of an orgasm. He’s worryingly close already from watching, from not being touched for so long. She looks up at him as she finds the head of his cock and begins sucking at it through his jeans and he can’t do anything to stop his orgasm from crashing over him. His head tips back as he moans and shudders, fighting against the restraints to tangle his hands in her hair and the pain of the fabric rubbing his wrists raw makes his mind spin.

Cum seeps through his pants and she eagerly laps it up, much to Oscar’s enjoyment. “How’s it feel to cum in your pants? Can’t say I’ve done that before.” Carlos starts to retort back to Oscar’s teasing, but then her teeth skim his sensitive cock through his jeans and he whimpers instead. It causes Oscar to snicker and pull her head back, “That’s enough, I think.” Carlos sighs and slumps into the chair, sucking in air as he stares down at her slick lips. The golden necklace is shiny as ever on her throat and he wishes he could rip it off and replace it with one of his own.

She looks up at Oscar and smiles like she didn’t just suck Carlos’s cock through his jeans, and then leans forward to press a kiss to Oscar’s bare hip. He ruffles her hair like a pet before stepping away, behind Carlos. He feels cool hands on his wrists, then a moment later his wrists are being massaged by cool fingers. He wants to jerk back from the touch but he doesn’t have it in him, too relieved to finally be released from his confines to care that his rival is doing something caring. A moment later, his arms are let go and he immediately brings them to his face to investigate the damage. His wrists are red and chaffed, sore, but nothing too bad. As he’s studying his wrists, he feels a nudge to the back of his chair, “We’re going to shower. You can let yourself out.” Carlos frowns at the words, jealousy burning in his stomach as she stands and he takes in her bare body again, hopefully not for the last time. Oscar’s hand finds her waist and he takes her hand and guides her to the bathroom. The door shuts, and he hears the lock click behind them.

He spends a few moments collecting himself, running through the last few hours, before he pulls out his phone and calls his friend Lando to come get him, hoping he doesn’t notice the wet spot on his dark jeans when he arrives at the sent location.

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kitixie · 4 months

Text

I am ON THE FLOOR, do y’all hear me??? screaming, crying, throwing up profusely. This was amazing.

lolita ☆ cs55

genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature

word count: 14.9k

You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness…Especially the week of his wedding.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).

cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY.

She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground.

He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.

But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began.

Where Paradise met Hell.

Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.

They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew.

You liked them older.

Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.

And that’s a story for later.

Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.

Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.

And your older sister, Ollie?

Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one.

Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.

Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good.

Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped.

“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”

Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.

“Papi, how are you?”

Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.

“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”

You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?

You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.

“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”

It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.

Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.

Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?

“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”

Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.

Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-

“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”

Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.

Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.

“I am so, so, sorry.”

Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume.

Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down.

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”

Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.

“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”

Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between.

“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”

Wait.

“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”

No, no, no.

“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”

Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?

What was so fucking special about her?

Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man.

Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest.

“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you.

It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that.

Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze.

“How’s school?”

Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”

The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming.

Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain.

“What do you do for work?”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.”

You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair.

“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”

Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.

“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”

The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”

“I might.”

Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”

You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.

You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities.

Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”

He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.

“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”

He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”

It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over.

“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”

“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”

7 years.

Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”

“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”

Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.

“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”

He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.

“Calling him wh- Papi?”

He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again.

“Forget it. How would I know?”

Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless.

Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.

Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.

“Not having fun?”

Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.

“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.

“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night.

“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights.

You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.

“You know the groom or the bride?”

“Bride.”

He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.

Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.”

“It is. Thank you for caring.”

He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”

“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”

He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it.

“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”

Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Maxie.”

Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.

The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”

“Nothing that should concern you.”

His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.

“Right. Have a good night.”

Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all.

So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.

Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place.

“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”

“Ouch.”

Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.

Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be.

“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”

Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke.

“When was this taken?”

“The day of our engagement.”

You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you.

Fuck her, honestly.

“Why’d you propose?”

He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?

“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware - and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”

Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults?

He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words.

You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you.

Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”

“You should leave.”

You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff.

“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”

Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought.

He’s fucked.

The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along.

“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room.

It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back.

Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you.

The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight.

His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete.

His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion.

Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps.

“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law.

“What are you doing up so late?”

Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs.

“First time?”

“No. It’s just been a while.”

You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns.

“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”

And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes.

His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly.

“You know what you remind me of?”

You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips.

“A Lolita.”

A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin.

The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.

A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home.

More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce.

Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.

“Are you okay?”

Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up.

“Why’d you do it?”

Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue.

“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”

Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-

His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.

He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello.

“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”

His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips.

“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”

Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.

“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.

Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling.

“Take care, Carlos.”

It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.

“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”

You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”

Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”

The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.

“What are we talking about?”

“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.

“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”

Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”

“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”

Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other.

“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”

“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.

Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular.

“The fuck - Are you crying?”

“What do you want?”

She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”

Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.

“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”

You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience.

But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?

She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away.

“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”

We probably shouldn’t-

Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.

“You and him…”

She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.”

“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”

If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.

But now you did.

“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”

Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.

Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.

“How are we all doing?”

They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.

Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.

Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.

“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”

Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”

You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”

“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.

“Not a word of this to Carlos.”

“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”

Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”

“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”

“He won’t believe you…”

She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”

“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”

Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you.

“Are you okay?”

Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.

“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”

“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”

Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”

If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this?

You hated her.

You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.

Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.

“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”

You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.

“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”

“Thank you,” you blush.

Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”

“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”

“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.

“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”

Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”

Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?

“I always find you alone.”

You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.”

“Ah. I see.”

You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”

“About?”

“Marrying a monster.”

He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”

“You were thinking of quitting?”

He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”

It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.

Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow.

“Want to dance?”

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”

“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”

Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”

His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.

“Mentirosa.”

“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully.

The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…

His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap.

Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.

“Goodnight, Carlos.”

Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie.

He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely.

“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”

Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.

“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.”

He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins.

Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!

The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.

Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.

With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches.

“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”

Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.

As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast.

“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.”

True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps.

“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”

Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red.

Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.

“Boo!”

“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”

“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.

“You’re fucked up.”

Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”

“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”

He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.

“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”

He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”

Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.

Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.

“Fucking delicious.”

Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of cours-s-e.”

Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.

“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”

The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action.

“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”

Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.

Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.

“Do you-”

“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”

If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it.

His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.

“How about mine?”

He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you.

He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.

You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.

“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”

Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss.

“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”

“You know it’s always been for you.”

With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.

“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”

His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”

Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out.

“Let’s start off with something else then.”

You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place.

“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”

“Yes.”

His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck.

Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria.

“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.

And that was only going to multiply.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”

No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.”

His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.

“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”

Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.

He adds a fourth digit.

“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride.

“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”

He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax.

Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.

This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening.

Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.

Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.

Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.

Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.

His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser.

Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.

The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.

Light of my life. Fire of my loins.

Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips.

“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”

When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release.

Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more.

Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths.

“Will you fuck me now?”

You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.

“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”

In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.

“Then you should be fucked as such.”

With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.

First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.

I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.

Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.

“Oh God.”

Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.

“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment.

Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets.

The keys for the gate to Heaven.

Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.

“Does that feel good, bonita?”

Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours.

In this moment; he looked immortal.

“Carlos, I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.”

Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”

You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear.

He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.

“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”

It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex.

Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.

He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-

“I will.”

When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”

Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.

“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”

There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.

You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.

You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.

“Nice ceremony.”

“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”

He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right?

The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.

Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.”

“Good to know.”

“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”

“Like you care.”

She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”

No.

“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”

It can’t be.

Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.

Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”

She knows. He told her. And they still got married.

“Ollie, don’t…”

Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.

“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”

Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?

“Ollie, please…I love him.”

Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”

Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by.

Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.

You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.

“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?”

Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.

“Carlos!”

Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake.

“Coming.”

Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.

“¿Bonita?”

Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?

Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists.

As red as your dress.

He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.

“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey. C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.

“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.”

But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore.

A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene.

None of it mattered anymore.

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kitixie · 4 months

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capsize - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader summary: in which charles is an idiot and you decide to make him suffer for a little bit warnings: smut, angst!, exhibitionism (kinda?), breeding kink!, language, 18+!, bad french!!! (please correct me and i'll edit), barely proofread (sorry if there’s mistakes my eyeballs hurt) word count: 5.9k (LENGTHYYYYY) author's note: had to give us some angst obvi....but also smut bc single dad charles is so hot. let me know what you think! I can't believe it ended up being this long but it felt like it was impossible to end. xoxo. please blow this up bc the effort I put into writing this took 100% of my brain power away lmao. also I got an anon request to write about nanny getting a internship with a fashion company which is included in this!

part 1 part 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 52,789 others yourusername welcome to miami 🐚🧡 view all 1,321 comments yourbsf but how do you kill it every time??? landonorris mmmm papaya looks good on you🍊 charles_leclerc how do I dislike a comment? liked by yourusername and 7,829 others yourusername 😂 user guys omg. user charles is NOT having it charles_leclerc beautiful. but please stick to red ❤️ user CRYING user lando is def on his shit list user lando wants her so bad lmaoooo

yourusername

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 78,992 others yourusername luigi follows only the ferraris 🏎️🏁 view all 4,391 comments scuderiaferrari as you should! ❤️ user OMG SHES IN MIAMI!!!! user does this mean his daughter is there!!!! user i would hope. unless she's not doing her job lol user we need baby leclerc content!!! charles_leclerc damn right ❤️ yourbsf miami looks gooood on u. wanna move? yourusername 😏 charles_leclerc absolutely not user charles gtfooooo user what does charles just stalk her comments?

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 1,582,817 others charles_leclerc special guests this weekend ❤️ we’ll keep pushing as always. view all 5,717 comments scuderiaferrari the most precious guests EVER user literally. user guys he’s using plurals again!!! user it has to be about @/yourusername too user crying they’re so cute carlossainz55 can’t wait for her to design my next helmet 🌶️ charles_leclerc OUR* yourusername sweet baby girllllll 🩷🧸🎀

lando.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 274,892 others lando.jpg mrs. 305 tagged yourusername view all 3,672 comments user omg. user are her and lando dating? user i hope not user they would be so cute carlossainz55 damnnnnn 🌶️🥵 lando.jpg don't poke the bear @/charles_leclerc charles_leclerc 😒 yourusername don’t ever let me take another tequila shot again lando.jpg should i cancel the ones i just ordered to your room? yourusername you BETTER be joking charles_leclerc is that why i opened the door to shots? charles_leclerc mon dieu user no like she's so pretty user they're sharing a room!??? landonorris tagged yourusername in a story!

seen by charles_leclerc, yourbsf, carlossainz55, and 900,281 others yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, and 65,428 others yourusername who let lando behind the dj booth last night???? tagged landonorris view all 2,318 comments maxfewtrell he’s such a 🐍 user omg her and lando?? user lando has been in love with her for so long user can we just take in that charles didn’t like this post? user charles has a habit of not liking any of her posts with other men 👀 user ariana what are u doing here user where is charles?? user prob with his daughter bc she clearly isn't lol user it's HIS daughter landonorris i'm so lucky user WHAT!!!!!!! user GUYS HELP user IS HE CONFIRMING?!!!? yourusername you need to stop trolling the internet lando user DJ LANDOOOOO HAS RETURNED

YOU BEGIN TO wonder whether the universe harbors some inexplicable grudge against you. Because really, you always make sure to check in on your friends often. You always make sure to pay your bills on time, if not earlier. Heck, you even make sure to donate to a different charity every month. Yet, as the jet encounters heavily turbulent skies on the way to Miami, the persistent question echoes in your mind ‘why me?’.

Luckily, a bundle of joy rests on your lap, cupping your face in her hands, and playfully squeezing your cheeks. A sweet distraction from the terror you feel inside. It’s adorable how earnestly she tries to impact calmness in you, even though her eyes are half shut with sleep.

“Ne sois pas effrayé,” Don’t be scared. Her voice maintains its gentleness as she swiftly loses interest in your cheeks, redirecting her tiny hands to play with the ends of your hair. “Je suis là avec papa.” Me and papa are here.

“Chérie,” Charles coos at his daughter, picking her up from your lap and resting her down on the bed. “Repose-toi bien," Get some rest. He tucks her into the bed, a space far too vast for her tiny body, nestling her favorite fluffy bunny stuffed animal by her side. You observe in admiration as he plants a gentle kiss to her forehead, then tenderly strokes her hair in a soothing manner.

“J’ai besoin qu’elle me border, papa,” I need her to tuck me in. Her tiny fingers point to you and your heart instantly tightens. With a slight shake in your steps, you make your way to the bed, sitting on the side of it. “Bonne nuit, ma petite.” Goodnight, little one.

“Bonne nuit, maman,” Goodnight, mom. The words were mumbled with sleep, but it was the name that couldn’t be ignored.

For a brief period, both you and Charles experienced a suspended moment, a pause in time. Never had she referred to you in such a way, and you certainly didn’t want Charles to assume you influenced her perception in any manner.

“I don’t know why she said that.”

Caught like a deer in headlights, you pivot your head to face him. Panic courses through you, eyes widened, heart pounding. Yet, as you turn to Charles, he appears nonchalant, offering only a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“C’est bien.” It’s okay.

In a hushed pause, the both of you remain motionless aside from turning your head back to the sleeping toddler, entranced by how peaceful she looks. However, Charles finds it hard to divert his gaze from you. His eyes focus on the serene scene of his daughter’s fingers delicately entwined with yours, even in the depths of sleep, acknowledging the profound connection between you two. In these tranquil moments, where your presence is indispensable for tucking her in, Charles not only appreciates the nurturing care you offer but also recognizes the profound love and solace you impact. He can’t help but feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

Only when Charles’s gentle hands tenderly squeezed the back of your neck, providing a subtle massage to your tense muscles, did you become acutely aware of the extent of your own exhaustion.

“Allez, dormons un peu, d’accord?” Let’s get some sleep, yeah? His lips delicately brushed against the shell of your ear, followed by a tender kiss on your temple, guiding you toward the other bed on the jet. Wrapping his arms snugly around your body, he let the both of you fall onto the mattress. While pulling the covers over both of you, your face pressed against his chest clad in a soft t-shirt. As you planted a gentle kiss above the neckline, you could feel the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat.

Despite the passing of a few months since that initial kiss, your connection with Charles retained a serene simplicity. In the quietude of your shared moments, you found solace. Deliberately, you resisted the temptation to let your mind drift into the what if’s, choosing instead to remain in the present moments.

However, within his mind, thoughts raced at a million miles a minute. Regardless of the casualness of your relationship you both claim to have, he couldn’t stop picturing you with swollen breasts and a swollen belly. The moment his daughter called you ‘maman’, an almost feral instinct surged within him. It was a wild and untamable force. He couldn’t stop imagining you pregnant. Full of his kid. Full of him. The need to fill you up with all of him was all but surging through his veins. All the blood was rushing to his cock, and he knew he needed to get these thoughts out of his head.

“Bonne nuit,” Goodnight. His voice sounded so rough as his arms tightened around you and you easily fell into a quick slumber, feeling so safe in his arms from the turbulent skies.

The abrupt touchdown of the jet resonated through the cabin, rousing you from slumber. A ballet of movement ensued before your eyes met the scene: Charles had migrated to one of the plush seats, his daughter perched upon his knee. The ambient hum of the aircraft formed a backdrop to the unfolding familial vignette, a delicate interplay of affection. As Charles tenderly pinched his daughter’s cheeks, childlike laughter following their hushed whispers.

Charles shifted his gaze towards you, now upright on the bed. Your tousled hair framed a face adorned with the lingering softness of sleep, and your eyes, slightly puffy with remnant of slumber, held a captivating allure. Despite your disheveled state, he couldn’t help but find that you remained the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Bien dormi?” Sleep well?

A gentle smile played on your lips as you rose from the bed, indulging in a languorous stretch that showcased the contours of your body. The fabric of the t-shirt clung momentarily, revealing the subtle canvas of freckles adorning your stomach to Charles. His gaze involuntarily flicked away, a reflex triggered by the flooding memories, thoughts of you pregnant resurfacing in vivid detail. The mere glimpse of your stomach had him internally spiraling.

“Uncle Lorenzo and Auntie Char want to see you bébé,” baby. A ripple of excitement danced in his daughter’s eyes as she clapped her hands joyfully at the mere mention of her uncle. Lorenzo and Charlotte had made their way to Miami a few days prior, cleverly disguising their visit as an opportunity to vacation while supporting Charles in the impending race. This strategic maneuver afforded you and Charles the luxury of solitude in the days leading up to the event, a rare and treasured gift compared to the last few months.

“Merde,” Shit. He grunted as his head fell back against the headboard of the shared bed. His green eyes watching you with flushed cheeks as you worked yourself over his cock. “This is where you belong, yeah?”

The morning sun peeked through the curtains of the hotel room. Eliciting a warm glow in the hotel room as you sunk down onto him deeper than before. Your pussy fluttering around his length, appeasing the ache that he created before you even opened your eyes.

You nodded your head repeatedly. “Mon dieu, yes.”

His hands cup your ass, fingers pressing firmly into the delicate layers of your skin, leaving an imprint as if searching for a connection beneath the surface. Controlling your movements, he urges you to move more frantically. The feeling of your hot, wet, pussy squeezing him was almost too much for him to handle.

With each passing second, the pressure of his fingers increased, creating a sensation of both command and invitation at the back of your neck. His touch was a deliberate grasp, not just holding but asserting dominance. Your lips met in a symphony of desire. His tongue slipping into your mouth instantly, brushing against yours as he held you against him. Your nipples flushed against the toned muscles of his chest as you leaned in, and the pound of his hips fucking upwards into you, had you all but mewling into his mouth.

“C’mon mon ange, don’t make me wait.” My angel.

You’re not sure if it was the pet name or the fact that you loved to please him. Or maybe the brush of his body against your clit. But your orgasm came quickly after while the tears spilled slowly from your eyes. He swallowed every moan you gave him like it was his own source of oxygen before flipping both of you over and pushing you face first into the mattress.

Every moan you gave him was like fuel to the pound of his hips. He was completely lost in the feeling of you. “Take it all,” he grunted as he pushed your body into the mattress deeper than before, his eyes not moving from the sight of his cock coated with you and slipping into you.

You were begging and pleading him to give you more, more, more. You don’t know what more he could give you; you just knew you needed it.

“So pretty like this,” he muttered, “like you were made just to take my fucking cock whenever I need.” His thrusts began to slow, but the speed didn’t alter just how good they felt. No, he pushed himself even further, hitting all the spots just right. It was as if he was trying to become one with you. Like he wanted merge you two into a singular existence.

“Cha,” You moaned out his name and you couldn’t see but his eyes widened. His heart clenched at the nickname. He pulled out quickly, provoking a complaint from your lips as he began scooping one of his arms under your stomach and flipping you onto your back. He took a second to just look at you, a shine forming in his eyes as he observed you. You look absolutely fucked. Cheeks flushed, hair all over the place, eyes glossed with satiation, and red marks all over your neck from his fingertips.

“Needed to see your face,” he answered before you could ask, slipping his cock back into your needy hole. The confession making your heart clench and the stretch of his cock had your stomach doing flips. “Besoin de voir tes yeux.” Needed to see your eyes.

His gaze was unwavering and fixed upon you. It was as if sought to etch the intricate details of your face into the canvas of his memory. He wanted to capture every nuance, every curve, and every expression that you made.

“Merde, let me cum in you.” His eyes trailed down your face, to your neck, to your breasts. The bounce of your breasts from the force of his hips had him in a trance, thoughts of you with swollen breasts came back to mind. When he felt your pussy clench around him at the phrase, a smirk formed. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up sweet girl?

“S’il ti plaît,” please. You were pleading. You wanted nothing more. “J’en ai besoin.” I need it.

Charles’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head at your confession. His groaning and grunting increasing in volume as he pounds into you harder, every inch of his cock pressing against your velvet walls as he releases into you, making you feel all warm inside.

“Tu es parfait.” You’re perfect. He collapses beside you; his voice was so low that you almost didn’t hear him mumble the words as he pressed his lips to your collarbone before resting his head on the pillows. You felt your cheeks redden almost instantly, brushing off the compliment with a smile and small laugh.

“Je dois prendre une douche.” I need to shower. The mixture of his and yours cum was oozing down your leg. You could still feel the warmth of it. Charles mumbled a soft “mmmm”, already drifting off into a slumber.

You weren’t sure what changed in the few minutes you were in the bathroom, but you could feel the unease build in your stomach as you emerged with a towel wrapped around your frame and skin flushed red from the heat of the water to Charles pacing around the room, a knuckle in between his teeth.

He was agitated to say the least. He felt betrayed by you.

A subtle smile played on Charles’s lips as the sound of the shower resonated in the room, accompanied by your soft hum of a song he couldn’t name. The ambiance of the hotel room cocooned him in a profound sense of peace, and in that moment, he wished he could stay here eternally with you. Kissing you, touching you, inside of you.

When he heard the buzzing of a phone on the table beside the bed, he instinctively reached for it without glancing at the screen, presuming it to be his own. Given the context of it being a race weekend, early morning phone calls were expected.

“Bonjour?” Hello? He let out a cough, clearing his throat from the sound of sleep and satiated desire. The subtle rasp carried with it the traces of his happiness.

“Ah bonjour, hello, this is Camille with Christian Dior.” The woman’s voice echoes into Charles’ ear. He sits up immediately, back against the headboard. His first thought was ‘why is Christian Dior calling me?’ but it wasn’t that abnormal either. Companies reached out to him all the time for collaborations. “I am calling regarding the application we received for the internship and wanted to schedule and in-person meeting.”

Charles felt his stomach twist in knots as he listened to Camille chatter into the phone. Application? Internship? Moving the phone from his ear, he looked at the phone realizing that it was in fact yours and not his. This call was for you, not him. Camille’s voice was muffled as it was pulled away from his ear.

A wave of nausea coursed through Charles, the unexpected revelation at the possibility of you leaving hitting him hard. How could you just apply for another job like that? He felt himself growing antsy and restless as thoughts swirled in his head. Camille, who was confused by the silence, mumbled something about calling back later due to the lack of response from Charles.

He dropped the phone onto the duvet of the bed, standing up and pacing the room while he felt himself begin to question everything. Questioning why you would leave. Does he not give you enough? Was it too much to handle? As his thoughts droned on, taking a turn for the worse, he began to feel angry. Angry that you considered leaving this job. He began to see red.

“Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?” What’s wrong? You were cautious, not standing too close to him to give him some space. His head whipped in your direction almost too quickly.

Your attention was drawn to the wrinkle lines etched on Charles’s forehead, marking the aftermath of his furrowed eyebrows. The subtle creases and wrinkles, usually absent in is carefree demeanor, painted you a picture of his current inner turmoil. When you shifted your gaze to meet with his narrowed eyes, the cautious padding of your bare feet seemed to echo.

It was an unfamiliar sight to witness Charles engulfed in such a storm of emotions. The stark contrast to his usual carefree and joyful demeanor. He was blinded by his rage as he muttered the next words.

“Es-tu idiote?” Are you stupid? His jaw was clenched. A soft gasp left your lips as you clutched tighter onto the top of your towel, feeling rather exposed now. “Demande à Christian Dior.” Ask Christian Dior. His spat out the name Christian Dior with such disdain. As if it were dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

Your eyes widened, everything clicking. You weren’t sure how he knew, but he was answering your internal thoughts before words could form on your tongue.

“Ils t’ont appelé. J’ai répondu par erreur.” They called you. I answered by mistake. He let out a loud sigh as he leaned against the dresser across from the end of the bed, his forearms flexing as he gripped onto it tightly. You noticed the definition of his muscles and veins forming on his arms. He was squeezing the dresser, trying to gain some relief from such anger swirling within him.

At first, you wanted to argue him for answering your phone. But you knew him. You knew he wasn’t snooping. He said it was a mistake, so you took his word for it.

“Qu’ont-ils dit?” What did they say? You weren’t sure how to approach this conversation with him. You especially were not expecting it to go this way, with you wrapped in only a cotton towel.

His eyes narrowed to an almost imperceptible slit, the vibrant green drained from any warmth of presence. “Are you serious?” The exasperation in his voice reverberated through the room. Your question seemed to strike a nerve, leaving him incredulous. Was that all you had to say? The absence of an explanation hung in the air, adding more tension to the charged atmosphere between you two.

“Ne me crie pas dessus.” Don’t yell at me. You felt your own anger building at his attitude. Who did he think he was? You padded back to your suitcase, grabbing whatever outfit you could without paying attention. You weren’t sure what you even grabbed or if it even matched, but you didn’t care. You were too busy listening to Charles raise his voice.

“Don’t walk away from me.” He pushed off the dresser, trailing behind you. “What is this internship you applied for?”

You didn’t answer right away, instilling more anger within Charles. “Answer me. You’re just going to leave like always?” His tone struck you with disbelief, the harshness leaving an unexpected sting. The air was too intense. You needed to get some air.

Like always?

You turned and faced him. “Are you asking me as my boss or my fuck buddy?” You knew it was a low blow, but it was so unfair for him to be this mean to you. It wasn’t even necessarily his words but his tone that bothered you most. He spoke to you as if you were a child who needed punishing.

You had a shirt half-way over your head and black leggings on. “It’s just a summer internship. I didn’t even do the interview yet, but you seem to know that already.” You waved him off, rushing around the room to get your stuff. You needed to get out of here. You weren’t going to sit here and let him berate you.

“You can’t just leave.” He followed you to the door, gripping your wrist to pull you back towards him. You yanked your arm out of his grip.

“You’re just like everyone else.” His words tumbled out incoherently, much like uncontrollable word vomit. He could feel the panic rising in him as you made your way towards the door. “Right. Use me and then leave. It’s all I’m good for.”

His words twisted your stomach, and you chose to overlook the burning ache in your heart.

“Fine. Just go fuck your ex-boyfriend or something. Or Lando. I know he wants you.” He stood there, chest heaving up and down with his heavy breaths. You pulled the door open, standing in the frame, you took one last glance at him.

“Va te faire foutre.” Go fuck yourself. And with that you were out the door.

“Je n’arrive pas à le croire!” I can’t believe him! “C’est vraiment un connard.” He’s really such an asshole.

“Babes, you’re g’na need to speak in English for me to understand,” he laughed before taking a sip of his beer, “you muppet.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at Lando, seated across from you in the elegant ambiance of the hotel restaurant. Adorned in a snug black dress, every curve of your figure accentuated, the crystal jewels meticulously tracing the contours of your breasts. The garment displayed a subtle dip between your cleavage, adding an enthralling touch. It was safe to say you looked fucking good. Or as Lando said, “holy fucking shit, you took the air out of my lungs.” Which in response, you couldn’t resist a playful shove to his shoulder.

In the aftermath of the argument with Charles, you found yourself in the company of Lando, driven partly by Charles’s mention of him. Despite the strained circumstances, your connection with Lando remained strictly platonic. However, Lando’s penchant for flirting was a constant, adding a playful dynamic that colored your friendship. Thankfully for Lando, he was the reason you were able to even get a change of clothes seeing as you left the hotel room earlier in complete disarray. It was still your day off, one that was originally supposed to be spent with Charles. Lorenzo and Charlotte were still taking care of Charles’s daughter, leaving your night wide open.

“Martin’s driver is picking us up soon,” Lando declared, drowning the remainder of his beer and emphatically slamming the bottle onto the table. There was still two more days before the race weekend began, meaning Lando wanted to go out to which you agreed easily. Meanwhile, you maintained a composed sip from your glass of wine. With a playful glint in his eye, Lando added, “Get your dance moves ready muppet.” The prospect of the evening ahead seemed to carry a promise of lively escapades.

Your laughter echoed, creating a buoyant atmosphere as you seamlessly fell into a comfortable conversation with Lando. His easy-going nature and banter helped soothe the lingering nerves from the earlier argument with Charles. In that moment, you felt nothing but gratitude for Lando’s presence.

The vibrant lights of the club painted the atmosphere in a kaleidoscope of colors, while the unmistakable scent of alcohol lingered in the air. The club pulsated with energy of the intoxicated crowd, bodies swaying to the vibrations of music surrounding them. It wasn’t until you reached the DJ booth that you felt a wave of reassurance wash over you.

The night unfolded with a multitude of shots, some in which you had to pretend to take, just to save yourself from vomiting on the floor. The music provided a lively group, thus creating a joyous atmosphere. You surrendered to the rhythm, dancing through the hours, deliberately steering clear of thoughts about the brunette Monegasque who typically occupied your mind.

As you slid out of the booth, making your way to the bathroom, you finally pulled your phone out of your purse. The screen was littered with missed calls and multiple messages, most from nonetheless Charles.

from Charles (dilf) Where are you? 18:45 You’re such a brat. 19:19 Really? You’re with Lando? 22:47 Could your dress be any fucking shorter? 22:51 Tu essaies de me tuer 01:27 You’re really testing my patience 01:46

You didn’t answer. Feeling triumphant as you snickered to yourself at his messages, him clearly struggling with the concept of you being out with Lando. Slipping the phone back into your purse, you continued your night, leaving all worries behind. Because if you didn’t, the mere reality of the argument with Charles would have you vomiting on the floor.

It was honestly insane how the sun was just beginning to rise. Yet, you and Lando were just stepping foot into the hotel not even a few minutes ago, drunken laughter between you both as you exited the elevator to Lando's floor. No doubt, pictures of you and Lando surfacing all over the internet tonight. But you weren’t worried about that. What you were worried about was the angry brunette standing outside of Lando’s hotel room door, his arms crossed, and eyes tired as if he didn’t sleep the entire night.

You and Lando both sobered up quickly from the sight of him, brooding in front of the hotel door. Charles opened his mouth, utilizing both of your native tongue to exclude Lando from the conversation.

“Tu es putain de séreiexse?” Are you fucking serious? The harsh tone he used drew you back to the argument that had occurred earlier in the day. Or should you say yesterday?

“Que fais-tu ici?” What are you doing here?

He rolled his eyes, teeth gritting as he looked over to Lando smiling beside you with his hotel room key in hand. “Muppet, are you sleeping over, or no? I’m tired.”

Charles didn’t afford you a moment to respond before swiftly shutting him down. The gaze he directed at Lando carried a lethal intensity, a silent warning that spoke volumes. “Absolutely fucking not.” Charles’s grip tightened on your arm, an assertive pull guiding you down the hallway toward the elevator. Surprisingly, you didn’t resist, allowing the momentum to carry you forward. You looked back at Lando who had a smirk on his face and winked at you. What a fucker.

The elevator enveloped you both in an oppressive silence, interrupted only by rhythmic beeping accompanying each floor you ascended. Charles maintained a deliberate gap between you, yet his hand remained firmly clasped around your wrist. In the mirrored surface of the doors, your eyes locked onto each other, breaths syncing. As the doors finally opened, Charles propelled you out with a gentle push, his body behind yours.

It wasn’t until you both stepped into the hotel room that Charles unleashed a torrent of emotions upon you. His voice, thick with a mixture of anger, jealousy, hurt, and worry, carried the weight of the pent-up emotions he had been harboring. He had seen the stories, the posts, and even the photos of you at dinner, images captured by fans.

The way you smiled at Lando in the pictures had him throwing his phone. And don’t even get him started on the dress. The fucking dress.

“Do you like Lando?” He sneered, jealousy bubbling inside of his chest.

And because you felt like stirring the pot even more, you smirked. “Yes.” And although it was the truth, it wasn’t what Charles thought. You felt bad as you saw his face fall, but he deserved it just for a little bit at the very least.

You could feel all the thoughts racing through Charles head before he pulled you both towards the balcony, staring at the city skyline instead of at you. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice thickening with emotion, “What about me? What about us?”

“As a friend.” You finally announced, turning your body to fully face Charles. “I like Lando as a friend, Cha.” You confirmed, a groan leaving your lips. “Do we have to do this right now? I’m so tired and my feet hurt.”

“Oui.” Allowing no room for further complaints, Charles pulled you into an embrace, his arms enveloping you and effectively trapping you between the warmth of his body and the balcony railing. He nestled his head in the crook of your neck, finding a moment of relief in the reassurance that you were back, and in his arms. The tight hold on you spoke of relief.

“You’re mine,” He states. “Label or no label.” He's possessive in the way he speaks and touches you. Like he needs to get his point across. You feel him laugh as his fingers trail around your front side, trailing down until he can slip them up the front of your dress, pressing his fingers to your lace covered core. It was almost too easy. The dress was so short.

The desperate ache in the pit of your tummy grows with each swipe of his thumb along your covered clit. You began to forget why you were even fighting in the first place, his hands on you felt too good. You lulled your head back against him, making more room for his lips to attack on your neck.

Your ability to articulate words faltered, your legs turning to jell-o under his embrace. With one arm securely wrapped around your waist, he became your anchor, ensuring that you remained standing.

“You want my fingers?” His lips are hot on your ear. He slips his fingers beneath your underwear, feeling just how wet you really are. It was almost too easy. “So fucking wet and warm, mmm.” He groans as he slips one finger inside of you, moving it so slowly that you began to get frustrated with the pace. Your hips rut, trying to speed up his fingers, but he holds you in place removing your ability to move.

Your body begins to tremble as he increases the pace of his finger, inserting another one and curling it, hitting the spot you ached most. You want to cum so badly; you want to soak his fingers and tremble around them. “So greedy.” He takes your ear lobe in between his teeth, nibbling gently on it before trailing his tongue down the rest of your neck. “Taking my fingers so well.”

You groaned, his words pushing you towards your climax quicker than anticipated. He could tell you close with the way you were squeezing his fingers so tightly, and the way your words were almost incoherent. As soon as your arm reached back, your fingers brushing through his hair, he pulled his fingers out of you.

“No!” You half-shrieked at the loss of contact, pulling his hair in the process. Your face blushed and eyebrows furrowed from the loss of his fingers.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He flips your body around, your back flush against the balcony railing now. The breeze continues to blow your hair around, no doubt making a mess of it.

“You tell me you’re mine.” You bite back, refusing to say it first. Charles began laughing, it reverberated in his chest.

“Oh, mon ange.” He ignores what you say, trailing his eyes down your body. “This fucking dress.” His words are sharp as he begins gripping the ends of your dress and shoving it upwards, exposing you completely to him now. He placed a quick slap of his finger tips to your clit, the shock and sting of the slap turning you on more than you could imagine.

He pulls you forward, hands squeezing your neck, the area right under your jaw line to be more specific, lips immediately pressing against yours. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. It was hot, messy, and wet. A clashing of teeth and tongue as he sucked on your tongue. Leaving you almost no room to breathe in the process. But you didn’t mind, his kisses were intoxicating.

The firm presence of Charles’s hand on your neck persisted, the subtle pressure from the pads of his fingers inducing a dizzying effect. It was a tactile reminder of his control, a touch that left your head spinning, and wanting more. “I’ve always been yours.” He doesn’t let you respond before he’s pulling your lips back to his. This time, his fingers slip back into your heated core, assaulting and curling them just how you needed them. You breathed hotly into his mouth as your orgasm crashed over you. It was quick and hot. Charles could’ve sworn he was going to cum right in his pants at the feeling of you squeezing his fingers, coating them in you. He’s never been more jealous of his fingers in his life.

He flips you around again, fumbling with the button of his pants as he shoves them down, them falling to a pile around his ankles. He wasn’t slow, rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, he teased you both for a little bit.

When he finally slipped into you, you swore you were going to cum again. You had to squeeze the railing harder to prevent yourself from doing so. You wanted to cum with him.

“Squeezing me so well.” He moaned, the wind picking up and the only glimmer of light was from the sun barely peeping over the horizon. You couldn’t believe you were doing this, out in the open of a hotel balcony, but the thrill of it made it that much more exciting.

“Tu aimes ça, hm?” You like that? He pushes you forward so that your chest was pressed to the railing, your head dangling over the edge as you looked down from the height of the building. Everything looked so small from this height. “Want the whole world to know you’re mine.” He continues.

“Want to fill you up.” You clench hard around him, soft moans escaping your lips into the air in response. Charles couldn’t help but feel his heart pound as he muttered the next words. “Want to fill you up with my cum, want to fuck a baby into you.”

At first, he was nervous muttering the words aloud. But the clench of your pussy around his cock only eased his nerves. Your moans increasing in volume told him just how much you liked that too.

“Merde,” Shit. You were mewling into the open air, the increase in pace of his hips had you seeing stars.

“Are you gonna let me?”

“Yes!” You were yelling it repeatedly. His fingers crawled their way around your body, slipping into the dip in the front of your dress and pinching your nipples. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“C’mon donne-le moi.” Give it to me. And boy did you. You both came with a loud cry, the sound of his hips slapping into your backside a faint noise compared to the moans. The warmth of his cum seeping into you for the second time in less than 24 hours. Although, you were on the pill, you still liked to play along with the idea of being pregnant. The idea of Charles filling you up turned you on like no other.

You both took a few seconds to recoup, trying to catch your breath. He pulled out slowly, but brought his fingers down, pushing the mixture of both of your cum back inside you. He didn’t want a single drop of it to go to waste.

He turned you around, bringing your lips to a sweet kiss.

“Je suis désolée.” I’m sorry. His eyes hold your own. “I should’ve said it sooner. I didn’t mean any of it, I swear. The idea of you leaving had me freaked out, you didn’t deserve any of it. You..”

A small smile graces your lips as you see how genuine he is and you lean up on your tippy toes, bringing your lips back to his. Essentially shutting him up, his hands wrap back around you, lifting you off the ground as he carries you back into the hotel room, both of you collapsing into the bed.

“Even if I got a new job, I’m still yours.” You started. “But actually, there’s this great nanny job I heard about.” Charles feels panic forming in his chest again. But you continue on, “It involves the cutest little girl ever. I also heard that the dad is so hot and cool. Did I mention he’s single?” You joke, laughter erupting between the both of you as he cradles you into his body.

“I don’t think he’s single.”

“Yeah. He definitely isn’t.”

And that was all he needed to hear.

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kitixie · 4 months

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New years- L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which your boyfriend can’t take how good you look during new years celebrations and fucks you in a club bathroom

Warnings?; Smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex(plz use protection), public sex, slight exhibitionism, slight candaulism kink, kissing, cursing, sorry for any errors

Day 12 of my ficmas celebration!

Lando’s eyes watched your body intensely, the way your hips moved against the front of your best friend, arms swaying in the air, your hair flying around as you swung your head along to the beat.

He was stood up in the dj booth besides Martin while you and your friends took over the dance floor, you had decided to wear a black silk dress out, the tight material stinking to your now sweating body-leaving even less to the imagination.

“Why don’t you just go down there?” Max laughed from beside him, causing him to come out of his unholy thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“Mate you’ve been eye fucking her since you got up here, everyone can see you undressing her with your eyes.” Max laughed at his dear friend.

“She’s having fun.” Lando mumbled with a small shrug

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

Lando knew max was correct, it didn’t matter what you two were in the middle of or what you were doing, if he wanted you he was pulling you away from whatever it is that’s occupying your attention.

Lando ignored his friends giggles as he turned and made his way out of the dJ booth and onto the dance floor, fighting his way through the crowd of sweaty and drunk bodies until he found you.

“Lando!” You beamed as your boyfriend came into sigh, his tight dress shirt showing off his tanned chest and necklace you’d gotten him for his birthday.

“Hi baby.” He smiled back and pulled you into his arms, his hands landing low on your waist as yours wrapped around his neck.

“Are you having fun?” He questioned, looking down at your sweaty frame.

“Mhm, Martins playing all my favorites tonight.” You smirked knowing your boyfriend may have had something to do with that.

“So that’s why you’ve been down here moving like no one’s watching?” He teased

“M’ just having fun.” You grumbled.

“I know baby.” He laughed.

“Will you walk with me to the bathroom? Don’t wanna go alone.” You asked, the club was usually busy but with the added new year eve celebrations it was even more packed than usual.

“Of course.” He smiled and pulled away but not before sliding his hand into yours and allowing you to lead the way to the woman’s room.

His eyes dropped to your plump ass immediately, watching the way it bounced as you walked-he couldn’t wait to get home and fuck you into next week.

He hadn’t even realized that you two had made it into the bathroom until he felt your warm hand leave his. Looking up he heard your small grumbles about needing to pee as you made your way into one of the stalls.

And Lando hated to admit the way he felt his already aching cock stir at the sound of your pleasurable sigh that came from your mouth once you were able to go.

He wasn’t completely sure if that’s what made him push you back into the stall when you tried to exit, or if that’s what made him pull you into a breathtaking kiss.

His hands were gripping tightly onto your ass as yours tangled into his messy curls, lips moving in sync as his tongue slid into your mouth fought yours for a moment before taking over.

He basked in the small moan you let out when his hands began to slide underneath your dress but a pout is what quickly formed when you pulled your lips from his.

“Baby we can’t do this here, we’re in public.” You spoke, head leaning against the side of the stall while Lando looked down at you.

“We can be quiet.” He smirked, his large hands still making their way in between your legs.

“La-oh” you began but were cut off as one of his thick fingers slid inside your cunt.

“No panties?” He smirked down at you as your mouth fell open from his second finger sliding in.

“D-didn’t want pantie lines.” You whimpered

Lando leaned down nice and close to your ear, fingers speeding up.

“Liar, wore them with it a few weeks ago.” He whispered before swallowing your deep moan with his mouth, lips moving sloppily against yours.

He continued working you with his fingers, speeding up and slowing down to pull wanting moans from your throat.

You could feel yourself right on the edge, the fire in your tummy burning hot as your thighs began to shake, all Lando had to do was-

“No,no why’d you stop.” You cried as he pulled his fingers from you, popping them into his mouth as he sucked them clean of your juices.

“Because I want you to come on my cock, not my fingers.” He smirked, moving his wet fingers down to undo the button of his pants before sliding them down along with his boxers, just enough for his aching cock to slip out.

Your mouth watered at the sight of it, his tip was red and swollen begging for the smallest bit of attention. A bit of precum had ran down to meet the prominent vein that spread along the topside of his cock, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t ready to drop to your knees right then and there.

Lando knew the look in your eye and by the way you unconsciously licked your lips he knew what you wanted, but right now wasn’t the time.

“I’ll let you get a taste once we’re home, but right now all I want is to fuck you.” He spoke lowly as his hands came to the back of your thighs and signaled for you to jump.

You wrapped your legs tight around his waist, dress rolling up your thighs the perfect amount for him to slip right in. Your back was pressed firmly against the side of the stall as he reached down to pump his cock a few times.

And soon you were gasping at the delicious burn that filled your body when he slipped in, filling you to the absolute brim.

He moved his hips slowly, allowing you a moment of adjustment before he was quickly changing pace and fucking into with fast but deep strokes, basking in the way your eyes rolled every time his tip hit the spongy spot inside you.

“Fuck lan, j-just like that.” You cried, hands coming up to grip his already messy curls.

The sounds of your mixed whimpers and skin slapping filled the tiny stall, Lando’s movements never ending even as you heard the door open and a pair of heels against the floor.

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Lando, however you were only met with an evil smirk and a look of pure determination.

The little shit had brought a thumb between your thighs to play with your sensitive bud, earning Lando a look of pure hopelessness as you both knew there was no way of keeping you quiet now.

“Lan-ngh!-shit.” You whimpered as you could feel the denied climax from earlier creeping back up, the burn returning to your lower stomach even more intense this time.

Lando groaned at the way you began to clench him, “fuck baby, so tight.” He growled.

You two were so caught up in each other that you almost missed the gasp that came from a few stalls down, your eyes grew wide remembering the girl that had came into the bathroom.

However Lando still didn’t care and simply brought a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay quiet. However that was quite hard as his hips began moving at an unforgiving pace and you were knocked over the edge.

Your head slammed against the stall as your climax overtook your body, you brain short circuiting at the overwhelming feeling in your body as Lando continued fucking you through your high.

“Shit baby, I’m going to come.” Lando cried as he could feel his own fire growing in his stomach.

“Go on lan, fill me up” you encouraged the boy, hands tangled in his damp curls, brushing back the ones that had begun to stick to his sweat covered forehead.

“Fuh…fuck!” He growled as he stilled inside of you and you felt the familiar twitch of his cock inside you before your walls were painted white with his release.

He pressed his forehead against yours as you both caught your breaths and it was the sound of the bathroom door opening and the chant of “happy new year” from outside that brought you both back to earth.

“Happy new year baby.” Lando giggled as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours softly.

“Happy new year my love.” You cheesed looking up at him with soft and tired eyes, he smirked at the fucked out expression on your face and realized you two should probably get cleaned up and head home.

Exiting the bathroom after getting cleaned up and fixing yourselves you made your way back to the group up by the dj booth where you were greeted with Max and Pietra who both held smirks on their faces.

“Looks like you two had some fun bringing the new year.” Max spoke with a giggle.

“Yeah, I’d say it was pretty nice.” Lando spoke, breaking into laughter as you elbowed his side.

“Wasn’t nice for the girl a few stalls down” you mumbled slightly embarrassed.

“Ehh she’ll be fine, she got a free show.”

“Lando!” You scolded but he only laughed harder and pulled you into a kiss.

“Love you” he cheesed

“Yeah, yeah, I love you to.” You grumbled but snuggled into his side as his arms held you tight.

Happy new years my loves!

Also the last fic of my celebration🥹

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kitixie · 4 months

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(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter One - I Hate You

Is me starting another series before my dissertation a really bad idea? Yes, yes it is (but i had the idea and I need to get it written down asap)

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.5K

"Get out of my apartment!"

In the doorway of a little two bedroom apartment in Woking was Y/N L/N. She had a bad on her back and at least three suitcases behind her. And in front of her was Lando Norris, her teammate, biggest rival and mortal enemy.

Lando stared at her, dumbfounded. "Your apartment?" He repeated, expression still shocked. "No, Zac said this one is for me."

"Then why did he give me a key for apartment 241?"

They held up the exact same set of keys on the exact same keyring. Lando let out a sigh through his nose as he pocketed his version of the key. "Somebody clearly has royally fucked up," he said and sat on the couch.

"I'm gonna call him," said Y/N as she put the key back into her pocket. She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and dialled the number of her boss.

Zac Brown had been hers and Lando's boss for the last year and few months. He'd been dealing with hers and Lando's shit from day one, ever sine they revealing the McLaren car for that year. They'd almost gotten onto a fight on the stage in front of everybody.

Zac picked up the phone in just a few rings. "How're you liking the new place?" He asked in way of hello.

"It's great, Zac. Except it comes with an annoying little prick," Y/N spat.

There was a second where Zac didn't say anything. He saw this coming, had tried to mitigate it as best he could by telling Lando he'd be getting a roommate. Of course, he didn't say who that roommate would be: that would have just been asking for trouble.

But, then again, all of this was asking for trouble. Zac had been waiting for a call from at least one of them since he got into the office (he'd hoped it would have been Lando; over the past year he'd proven himself to be easier to deal with than Y/N, who didn't back down. No matter what).

"Get yourself unpacked, I'll deal with you tomorrow," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Zac put the phone down. He didn't say goodbye to his drivers, unless it was on race days. With nowhere left to go, Y/N dragged her things into the apartment. "Where's the second bedroom?" She grumbled as she looked down at Lando.

Without looking away from the television, Lando pointed behind him. But that wasn't helpful, since there was the kitchen just behind them and then two doors. "Furthest one," he said and Y/N dragged her bags through the rest of the apartment, heading to the furthest away bedroom.

The bedroom was sizeable, with a double bed and wardrobe already inside. But, other than that, there wasn't a lot. Y/N unpacked nothing but bedding and clothes for the next day. There was no way she was staying here, not living with Lando Norris.

***

Carpooling made so much sense when going to the same place as somebody, unless you hated that person. Zac watched from his office as two cars pulled up outside of the McLaren Technology centre.

The drivers got out of the car almost in sync. They both wore sunglasses as they strode towards the doors, Y/N's glare not visible behind her sunglasses as she followed Lando inside.

Things were clearly tense between them as they walked through the office. The drivers said nothing to each other, but their expressions said enough.

Where Lando took an elevator up to Zac's office, Y/N took the stairs. She ran up them, the two of them arriving at the same time (one of them out of breath and the other smirking at her).

She took the lead as they strode into the office. "Zac," Y/N began, but the CEO held his hand.

He wasn't like other bosses, he was a cool boss. But he was still there boss and, when he held up his hand, the two knew to shut up. "Sit down," he said, leaning back in his own chair.

Y/N and Lando sat in the seats on the other side of the desk. Her leg bounced as she waited for Zac to speak and Lando had his hands shoved into his pockets. Neither of them could ever agree on anything, except the fact that they're not leaving the room until they're not living together.

Zac laced his hands together and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "You're both brilliant drivers," he began, "but you're both liabilities. You've both cost us millions because you keep trying to kill each other on the track. And your behaviour towards each other off track is bringing bad press to all of us at McLaren," he finished.

"We don't want to lose either of you as drivers, so we've come up with the brilliant plan to force you to get along."

Y/N's eyebrows were furrowed as she stared at her boss. "And if we refuse?" She asked him, placing one leg on top of the other.

"Then, we'll have to let one of both of you go. But the choice is yours."

But the choice wasn't really theirs. No matter what, they couldn't lose their seats, so they were just going to have to stick it out, suffer through it. Fuck.

The tension between the two wasn't just random. It had been brewing since their karting days. Even then they ran each other off the tracks and fought between races. Of course, back then it wasn't as big a deal.

There were way too many videos of when they were kids and they'd pushed each other off the track, gotten out of their karts and gotten into a physical fight. If they weren't so clearly talented, it would have affected their careers.

For the first few months of their Formula One careers in McLaren, the team thought they had made a mistake. If they weren't consistently in the points, Zac would have gotten rid of the both of them. But, truth be told, they were too good to let go.

So, he dangled this threat in front of them. Learn to get along or one of you is sacked. He'd thought about this hard, realised that this was the perfect threat. Y/N and Lando were so competitive that the thought of one of them losing their seat while the other thrived would have torn them apart.

"Fine," said Y/N. She stood up so quickly that the chair she was sat on, fell backwards. She quickly picked it up and rushed out of the office.

Lando said a goodbye to Zac and walked out of the office, rushing after her. He ran into the elevator just before the doors slid shut and stood beside her. They didn't look at each other, stared straight at the doors as the elevator took them down. "Sup, new roommate," he said with a smirk.

The elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open. "I hate you," Y/N said and walked out of the McLaren technology centre.

She drove her way back to the apartment in Woking in complete silence. Her grip on the steering wheel was so tight that it left imprints on her skin, on her palms and her finger tip.

How she didn't get pulled over for speeding, she'd never know. But the speed limit was the least of her concern as she made her way back to what was her new home.

But it would never be her home, not while Lando was living there.

***

Reluctantly, she unpacked her things. Hung her clothes up in her wardrobe and placed her underwear in the drawers. Y/N placed pictures of her family, pictures of her old F2 car, of her pets, of her car from the previous year up around her room. She pulled her lamp from her back and placed it on the bedside table, along with her phone, its charger, and her toiletries.

Lando had arrived home just minutes after her, but she'd already locked herself in her room. The only way they'd be able to get through this was by avoiding each other.

When her things were unpacked, Y/N sat on the bed and grabbed a book. A biography, all about the life of Enzo Ferrari. The one thing her room was missing was her sim racing rig, something her father was meant to bring up that day, but Y/N had told him to wait until she had somewhere new to live (which, we all know didn't happen. She was stuck in this apartment with Lando, whether she liked it or not).

Pressing her ear to the door, Y/N listened as Lando walked around. She waited until he walked past her room and into his own, shutting the door behind him. Only then did she walk out of her room to get herself something to eat and drink.

She could do this. All she had to do was avoid him.

Easy.

Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool

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kitixie · 4 months

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Wrangled / C.S. (smau)

pairing: Carlos Sainz x checosister!reader

warnings: none for this one :)

other things: reader is plus sized (face claim is Barbie Ferria, adore her) bc i wanted so representation!!! ofc, feel free to imagine her however you'd like, shes just who i imagine when coming up with this stuff

tags: (these are people who commented on my post from yesterday, if you'd like to be tagged just ask!) @runs-with-sciss0rs @princessria127 @thatgirlmj

y/nperez

Miami Beach, FL

liked by Charlesleclerc, Maxverstappen, Carlossainz, and 145k others

tagged: schecoperez

y/nperez had an amazing time in Miami, thanks for bringing me along hermano :)

Maxverstappen: always great to see you, hope you’ll be in Barcelona!

↳ y/nperez: <33 we’ll see about barcelona

Charlesleclerc: you were in Miami and didn’t come say hello?? Rude 🙄

↳ y/nperez: i was literally in the garage next door??? u could’ve come over there???

↳ Maxverstappen: no he couldn’t, he’s banned from RB garage 🥳

↳ y/nperez: oh no was there another inchident???

↳ Charlesleclerc: I hate you both.

Schecoperez: Gracias por venir, hermana. muy agradecido de tenerte allí <3

(Thank you for coming, sister. So grateful to have you there <3)

↳ y/nperez: i need to be at every race now or else i look like a bad sister 🙃 te amo hermano <3

(I love you, brother <3)

y/nperez

Barcelona, Spain

liked by Charlesleclerc, Carlossainz, Maxverstappen, and 200k others

y/nperez the second pic is me whenever checo said I need to wear RedBull merch to the race (also I’m now the new strategist for Ferrari, yw Charles)

Charlesleclerc: thank you, Carlos and I are tired 🙏🏻

↳ y/nperez: ofc, I got y’all (even though Carlos thought I was just some rando fan who somehow got into the garage)

↳ Charlesleclerc: no one ever accused him of being the smarter Ferrari driver

↳ Carlossainz: I actually hope you choke on uncooked pasta @/charlesleclerc

Leclerclover27: waitttt is this the girl from the paddock today??? The one who was hanging out with Charlos????

↳ user2564: indeed

↳ y/nperez: indeed (x2)

Maxverstappen: I’m looking, respectfully 🫣

↳ y/nperez: you don’t do anything respectfully, respectfully 🤭 u can look though I’ll allow it

y/nperez Instagram Story, 10:15 am

y/nperez

Silverstone, United Kingdom

liked by Carlossainz, Charlesleclerc, Schecoperez, and 234k others

Tagged: Carlossainz, Charlesleclerc

y/nperez taking my new duties as the Ferrari Boys wrangler very seriously (also shoutout to my brother for bringing me to a third race even though charles and carlos told me not to mention anything RedBull related in their presence)

Charlesleclerc: you're a great handler, mi cara🤍(except for the fifteen minutes you spent not speaking to Carlos because he accidentally stepped on the back of your shoe)

↳ Carlossainz: she was walking directly in front of me, I could not help it! 🤦🏽

↳ y/nperez: maybe watch where you're going?? look up from that phone of yours sometime and you wouldn't run over people 💀

↳ Charlesleclerc: he was probably looking at pictures of you This comment has been deleted.

Schecoperez: those boys need all the help they can get

↳ y/nperez: amen

#carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #max verstappen #formula one x reader #f1 smau #kitixiewrites

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kitixie · 4 months

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working on an f1 smau and I actually can’t decide if I want our girl to end up with Max or Carlos 🫣 we’ll see (if you have an opinion please tell me I am terribly indecisive and it will become a 75 part series before I make up my mind)

#max verstappen x reader #f1 smau #carlos sainz x reader #max verstappen smau #carlos sainz smau

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kitixie · 4 months

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new stuff coming soon, thank u to everyone who’s stuck around & still shares/hearts my writing. love u all 🫶🏻

#f1 fanfiction #max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader

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kitixie · 8 months

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would y’all be interested in me writing for other characters besides Tommy? I am a huge Kylo Ren girl, and i’d love to write for him.

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kitixie · 8 months

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Gardens of Babylon / T.S.

word count: 4k

information: whew. y'all, this one is long but i am so so proud of it. i loved getting to write this, and i feel like "cowboy like me" now belongs to Tommy. please enjoy!!

warnings: sadness, a lot of self introspection

There had been parties around Birmingham all year, but this one was poised to be the best. Large, white tents covered the ground of the luxurious backyard, the grass freshly trimmed. The pristine flower bushes were banked in sprays of purple, pink and yellow flowers, filling the air with a refreshing scent. Taking in your surroundings was one of your favorite parts of the job. You learn so much about people based on the smallest detail, like how they arrange tables, how well they dress for their own event, how well people try to hide the skeletons in their closets for the night.

When you were 16, you became your fathers right hand woman. Taking charge of stake-outs, surveying the people your father saw as a threat, and other tasks that most fathers would never let their daughter do. But your father was blinded by his power, only seeing what he could gain, never seeing what others would lose. That’s how you wound up here, five years later, striding through a stranger's yard, using a fake name to get into the event. You just had one specific mission tonight: make contact with Thomas Shelby.

You found him an hour after the party had started, lounging against an outdoor wall with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. You waited, pulling your own smoke from your small purse, and lighting it up. Standing casually with your shoulders relaxed against the wall, you breathed in, deeply inhaling the nicotine. Immediately, any of the nerves you had relaxed. Thomas was just a man, albeit a dangerous one, but he would never even know your real name. No matter what came from tonight, you would end up back home in your bed. Closing your eyes and opening your ears, you could hear the sounds of music. It was a slow tempo song, but the melody was beautiful. It was a familiar song, although you couldn’t put your tongue on the name of it. Softly humming the song, you stamped out your cigarette and followed the music past Thomas towards the courtyard. Just as your kitten heels touched the dancing floor that had been laid over the grass, a tall figure stopped beside you.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” The man asked, only visible in your peripheral.

“It is, I-“ You turned to face the man, it was Thomas.

You took him in, he looked much different up close. His file only said ‘brown hair, blue eyes, average build’, but you could see nothing average about the man. He was thick, with wide shoulders and a well defined waist. His eyes weren’t just blue, they were pools of sky and ocean and reflections of the string lights hanging above your heads. His hair was varying shades of brown, ranging from lighter pieces of caramel to deep strands that were almost black. His eyebrows were dark and prominent on his face, but they weren’t too much like some men. His pink lips were turned up into a small smile, and your eyes scanned his face again before catching on his mouth for a moment. You looked him in the eyes as the music changed, the new song catching your attention.

“Care for a dance Miss….?” He trailed off, waiting for you to tell him your name.

“Dancing is a dangerous game, Mr. Shelby. But yes, I’d be happy to dance with you.”

He offered his hand, and the two of you stepped into the crowd of swaying people. He placed his left hand on your waist. The right hand gripping yours. He slowly began swaying the both of you in time to the music, before he spoke.

“I still don’t know ya name, Love. How come ya already know mine?” He asked, meeting your eyes.

“My name is Taylor, and I’m not sure if ya know, but you're quite famous around here, Mr. Shelby.” You said, trying to rain in your anxiety.

Had you fucked up by calling him by his name? He knew he had enemies, and if he was smart, he’d see right through the little innocent girl facade you were using. But maybe, he wasn’t that smart. Maybe, he’d see you, you’d be his perfect type, and there would be no more questions. Maybe the two of you would spend more time together after this and you could cover for yourself even more… no. The rules your father had given were very specific, and you were to stick to them tightly. No unauthorized time with the subject of the mission, at any point in time. The rules were rules for a reason, and there was no questioning them. You had worked to hard, come home too many times with your hands caked in both literal and metaphorical blood to stray now. But this was different, he was different. He wasn’t the usual rich prick who got off too far in debt or the typical middle men who worked for your father than needed to be eliminated. He was someone, something, else entirely. He was kind, and his hands were gentle. His voice was soft yet commanding, and you knew that this man could tell you to drop to your knees and you would, even if your father was standing right behind you. Perhaps dancing with him was more of a dangerous game than you thought.

“You’re right about that one, Love. Sometimes I just forget who I am when I see a beautiful woman.” He crooned, swinging your arm and making your skirts furl around you as you twirled.

A blush crept across your face, a laugh breaking through your lips.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby, I-“

“Please, call me Tommy.” He interrupted.

“Tommy,” you repeated, letting his name run through your mouth, “I appreciate the compliment but I’m sure there are prettier women at this party.”

“I didn’t say pretty, Taylor, I said beautiful.” He spoke, sliding his hand from your waist to cup your jaw, forcing your eyes to hold his gaze.

“Actu-, never mind. Thank you, Tommy.”

Fuck. You had almost corrected him on your name. You needed to get away from him, his scent filling your head and making you feel almost high. It was intoxicating, and it was trouble. No man had ever made you feel like this, not ever. No one had ever taken away you sharpness, and without your wits you felt naked. You inhaled a deep breath, and thanked God when the song ended and he stepped back from you.

“Taylor, if ya would be willin’, I’d like to spend more time with ya.” Tommy spoke, something sparkling in his eye.

You swore you knew that look, it was the same look you always gave to targets, to draw them in and make them trust you. To make them do as you said. Before you could even think about it, your mouth opened.

“I’d love that, Tommy.” You smiled, willing that feeling of mistrust to go away.

You deserved this, to enjoy him. Even if he was wrong, even if he was your target. You had never wanted love, you had always wanted other things for yourself. But you wanted Tommy, and so for tonight, you would allow yourself to have him.

“What’ll ya have to drink, Love?” Tommy spoke, turning his entire body towards you.

He had taken you to a place called The Garrison, which you knew he frequented, but ‘Taylor’ had to act like she’d never heard of it. You’d spent many nights holed up in the dark back corner of this bar, watching him and his brothers pass in and out of the back room.

“Just a whiskey, please,” You smiled at him, “Whatever kind you’re having is fine.”

“So and Irish then?” He asked, and you nodded your head in response.

At least that wasn’t a lie, you did enjoy whiskey on occasion, but never while you had been working. Always the professional, you were thinking of how to use this to your advantage. Drunk Tommy would surely divulge some sort of weakness? Right?

Tommy grabbed your drinks, and led you to the backroom of the pub. The room was empty, now except for the two of you. He sat down, choosing the table that was circled by a booth seat. He sat with his back to the door, which was an interesting choice that didn’t go unnoticed by you. You sat on the opposite side of the semicircle, and that small creeping feeling came back into your mind. You knew him, more than he would ever know. Thomas Shelby would never put himself at a disadvantage, never. So why put his back to the only door in the room? Why let you be the one with a clear path to escape if somehow this all went wrong? Was he that confident in his ability to charm and wow you, that he would dangle an exit in front of your face, only to be sure that you wouldn’t take it? Your brain was running a thousand words a second, never letting up on the thought that Tommy, who had yet to show any hint of cruelty towards you, was one step ahead. Had he figured you out? It wasn’t possible, your father made sure you stayed hidden until he wanted you to be seen, and even then, you were only seen by those you wanted to see you. How would he have known you were an operative for your father? Did your stumble earlier when he said your alias give you away? Was it the way that you clearly did not belong in the crowd at that party, feet slightly swollen by the tight heels, shoulders hunched over due to the many days you spent curled in a chair by the window? How could he have kn-

“Drink, Love. A blind man could see that somethings on your mind. What is it?” He spoke, sliding a glass of whiskey across the table toward you.

You shakily wrapped your fingers around the glass, pulling it to your lips and taking a long sip.

“It’s nothin’, just reliving some family troubles in my head. I’d much rather be focused on you though.” You said, allowing a sultry tone to enter your voice; men could never resist.

“If it's botherin’ ya, it’s not nothing. Tell me about it, believe me, I understand family troubles.” He laughed, taking a swallow from his own glass.

“I don’t want to rehash it, Tommy, if it’s all the same to you.” You put a stern face on, not liking him questioning you.

He raised his hands in an apologetic movement, sitting back in his seat. He grazed his eyes across your face, looking over you. Suddenly you felt small, sitting in front of him, telling him half-lies and half-truths. Not that he’d ever know, but you did. The realization that you felt bad for lying to him shot a sharp pain of sadness through your chest, only to be beaten by the overwhelming sense of anger that you felt for feeling bad at all. This was a job, and while yes, you had agreed to let yourself enjoy tonight, that didn’t mean forgetting your assignment.

“Tell me about you, Tommy. You have this sense of mystery that I can’t figure out for the life of me.” You said, tracing your fingertip around the rim of your glass.

“Not much to tell, darlin’. I live here in Birmingham with my family, we run a small business. No mum or dad to speak of, I spend a lot of time here, just watchin’.” He spoke, and you felt like he was telling the truth.

Not that he had said anything you didn’t already know, you knew about his mom and dad, and you knew a hell of a lot about his ‘small business’ as he put it. You knew all about his family, you had almost decided to go for Arthur instead of Tommy, but then you realized that just because Arthur was older didn’t mean he was in charge, and then Tommy became your main target.

You nodded your head at him, storing all of the information he had said in exact detail in your brain. Tommy studied you, almost as if he was doing the same thing you were. Except now, you thought that he was only studying you because he was interested in you. He watched your eyes, holding contact anytime you accidentally met his. He looked at your cheeks, your mouth, all the way down to your slightly exposed collar bones. He gave you another moment, before speaking up again.

“Would you like to dance with me, Love?” He asked, extending his hand to you.

“There’s no music Tommy, what do ya want to dance to?” You laughed, accepting his hand into yours regardless.

A spark of electricity flew between your connected fingertips, and instead of flinching, you pulled him closer. Now standing in front of him, you had forgotten how tall he was in the short time the both of you had been sitting.

“I was thinking you could sing, or I can hum if that’ll suffice. I just want to dance with you, Taylor.” He spoke, his shining eyes looking into yours with what seemed like only adoration.

“Start humming then, Tommy, because I can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” you laughed, “My mother could sing wonderfully, but I never inherited that talent.”

Tommy began to hum, a soft song coming from his lips. It sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Not that it mattered, if you ever recognized the song, this would be the moment it was tied to. This second in time, burned into your brain for the rest of your life. His hands delicately on your waist, with your hung over his shoulders. Your fingers lightly scratching the nape of his neck while he rubbed his hand up and down your back, slowly swaying the both of you in rhythm to the song he was creating. The skirt of your dress swishing around the both of your feet, the quieted sounds of the pub outside going silent in your mind. Here, in your space, it was only you and Tommy. Over the years, you had charmed countless men, telling them anything they wanted to hear, even doing some of the questionable things they wanted to do. Whatever it took to get the job done. This felt different though, this felt soft and warm and inviting. Tommy felt like he belonged in your arms, and that if he were to leave them, the awkward limbs would never fit against your side again. He felt like a home, a breath of fresh air, a lover. This was romantic and sweet, and the longing in his eyes and gentle touch of his hands only escalated that feeling for you.

Tommy stopped humming a few minutes later, but he continued swaying with you in his grasp. He leaned his head towards yours, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your hair. You nuzzled your head into his chest, inhaling the scent of tobacco and whiskey. He let his lips linger on your crown, not moving from his spot.

“I think I should take ya home, aye Love? It’s pretty early in the morning.” He softly said, almost not speaking loud enough to hear.

“If that’s what you want, Tommy. I’d be content to stay here dancing with you for a very, very long time.” You tilted your head up at him.

Tommy slid his hands up your back and over your shoulders, ending with his palms against your cheeks. He stared into your eyes for the hundredth time that evening, and there was something unfamiliar in them. Whatever he was feeling, you couldn’t read it, but you didn’t care. All caution and sense gone to the wayside, you perched on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He deepened the kiss, pulling your entire body into his. The two of you fit together perfectly, bodies molding into each other, forming one being. This kiss was only your second kiss ever, so there wasn’t much to compare to, but it was mind blowing. His warmth spreading all over your body, from your connected lips to the spots his hands rested to the way he had situated you with your legs on either side of one of his lean legs.

Eventually you pulled away, finally needing air. He still cupped your face, both of your foreheads pressed together. His chest was heaving, panting breaths coming from both of your mouths.

“It’s time to get you home, Love. Before I lose all composure and ruin this perfect night.” He breathed, untangling your bodies and pulling his face from yours. He still held your hand, leading you toward the door that would lead into the main pub, then out of the bar altogether. You took in the scene one last time, knowing that this could never happen again after tonight. You had let your ambitions slip, almost too far to come back from. Your heart beat wildly, the organ not caring about the betrayal you were imposing upon your father. How could you care about that miserable man, when the God that was Thomas Shelby was holding your hand, escorting you to your apartment?

Tommy deposited you at the door to your small apartment, the walk to your home having been mostly silent. No words needed to be shared between the two of you, both of you having the dreading feeling of something coming. You didn’t know what was coming, but none of it mattered as he pressed his lips gently to your cheek, before pulling back to speak.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Love. Would you mind if I called you sometime to do it again one day?” He smiled, softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“I’d love that, Tommy.” You grinned back, writing your phone number down onto a small piece of paper you had in your purse.

He took the paper, pressing one last kiss to your lips. His mouth was firm against yours, yet it moved so softly and swiftly that the fierceness in his actions didn’t scare you. Your body reacted, back arching into him while your mouth matched his movements. You gripped the side of his face, daring him to try and back away before you were done with him. His hands clasped around your waist, tugging on your already arched back, trying to get you as close to him as possible. The both of you tugged and moved against each other, not caring that you were in a hallway and that any neighbor, all of whom worked for your father, could step out at any moment. Almost sensing your tensing, Tommy slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes while his chest heaved.

“I’ll see you later, Tommy?” You asked, hoping and praying that he’d say yes.

“Goodbye, Taylor.” He smiled, kissing your hands before turning and walking down the hallway, your paper still tucked in his left hand.

It had been four days since you met Tommy, and two days since you started being paranoid. You would not leave your machine unattended for more than 10 minutes at a time, and when you had to leave its side for things like food and cleaning yourself, you made sure no other noise was going on so that you’d be able to hear it when it rang. He had to call eventually, he had said he would. You knew he was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of his descriptors in his file. He had never been known as a man who didn’t tell the truth, his truthfulness was honestly one of his greatest downfalls. It got him in trouble quite often, causing him to blurt off whatever he was thinking, with no care for the consequences.

This time wasn’t different, right? Surely he didn’t charm you all night, walk you home, ask for your number, make out with you outside the door of your apartment, then just not call?

The anxiety had begun to take its toll, your skin becoming more pale and dreary than usual, eyes slightly hollowing from the lack of proper food and sleep. No time could be wasted, not when he could call at any hour. You waited, and waited, and waited. He would remember what the two of you shared, surely. He would.

On day seven, you found a small paper slid under your door. It wasn’t from your fathers office, and you didn’t recognize any of your few friends stationary. Cautiously, you unfolded it, reading the words scrawled in ink.

‘Taylor, or should I say Y/N, I hope this letter finds you well. Truly. However, I do not like being lied to. You have not received any calls from me because I never intended to call you. I let my wits leave me that night, and it will never happen again. You are not who you said you were, and for that I cannot ever trust you again. If you ever see me in Birmingham, do not approach me and pray my brothers do not see you first. I liked you, Darling, I am damn near certain I loved you, but that does not matter if I cannot trust you. I know who your father is, I have known from the moment I saw you smoking in that courtyard, yet you were so beautiful I could not help myself. Do not worry, for your sake, I will not speak of this to anyone if you do not. If you do, I will know, and I will be forced to retaliate. I wish you the best in this life, Love.

All the best,

Thomas Shelby

& The Peaky Blinders’

You dropped the paper, letting it flutter to the floor. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. How could you ever be so foolish? You had let this man control your life for the past seven days, dictating how you ate, how you slept, how you looked at yourself. Every doubt of his character from that night came rushing back. You had been right to think those things of him, to not trust him, but he was so beautiful and gentle, and he sucked you in. He devoured you, and you were happy to offer yourself up for him. You would have been happy to do anything he asked of you.

Your breaths began to become short and exasperated, your face hot and wet from the tears. It felt like a chokehold around your throat, but there were no hands on your throat but your own. You clawed at your skin, willing it to tear open just so you could breathe, but it didn’t happen. You scratched and scratched until you bled, only stopping when you saw the crimson underneath your fingernails. Breathing still did not come, so you laid on the floor, sobbing and heaving, until you had no more tears and oxygen entered your lungs once more. You clung to the piece of paper, the last bit of Tommy you would ever have. You could not have him, but you had his words and his handwriting. You had the faintest smell of him in the paper, the littlest bit of him still with you. His words would be all that you were left with, while he was saddled with his love and your guilt. You wished you had just told him your name, just told him who you were. Damn all of this if it meant you could have him, but it was too late. You would never get to see him again, never get to smell him, never get to touch him. You would never have any part of Tommy Shelby ever again except for this letter and your memories. No man would compare to him, no man could. The way he held you, the way conversation was so effortless and comfortable. The way that even in silence, he filled up a space, never letting you feel alone. He was something so special, so tangible, and you had lost him. There would never be another love for you, never be anyone else. He was your love, even if only for that night, and you knew in your soul that you would never love again.

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