sparks | carlos sainz
Description: Carlos Sainz used to be your babysitter, now that you were older - you meet him in the paddocks, and an affair ensues.
It is a common saying that women are delicate creatures, flowers, eggs, anything that may be crushed in a moment of carelessness. If you had believed it, you no longer did.
You used to belong in the upper echelon. Dinner parties, soirees, expensive bags and yacht parties. There wasn't a thing in this world that you couldn't afford - well, that was the past, and ever since your father's death, the family has been a little tight on money.
"Can you handle writing the reports for this new car? The dudes want to grab a few drinks, and you didn't wanna come with." your co-worker leans on the wall beside your desk and you respond with a hum. "I have all the time in the world." you answer, typing a few emails before turning your head in his direction.
"- what time do you need those reports done?" you inquired and he stared at the ceiling. "Preferably before 10, but it'll be okay if you send them tomorrow." he answered, walking away as he sees the other guys in his peripheral view.
As one of the interns in Ferrari - you were in the bottom of the food chain. Unpaid overtimes, too much workload and too little rest was basically normal for you.
"Santisima trinidad!" you exclaimed seeing another man inside of the garage when you opened the lights. "Carlos, I didn't see you there." you scratched the back of your head, keeping your eyes on the floor.
He'd never recognize you, last time he saw you - you were five years old and that was sixteen years ago. "I'm sorry for scaring you." he chuckled, while taking a sip of his beer. "I was just checking the car," he reasoned, placing his phone on his back pocket.
"In the dark?" you asked.
"I couldn't find the light switch." he blushed. Deciding that it was probably a conversation that he wasn't comfortable with, you take a step forward, holding the clipboard close to your chest. He stares at your face for a moment, eyes trailing back and forth between your eyes and your lips.
"You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" he stared deeper into your eyes. A chill runs down your spine. There was no way that you'd let him recognize you - it would be awkward. A gigantic elephant in the middle of the room.
"I'm Ferrari's new intern. I think we already met each other back in Spa." you navigated yourself out of the ridiculous predicament. He licks his lips, and suddenly the atmosphere thickens. "Well, you look good." he gives you a micro-smile, walking away from the garage.
As his shadow retreats from view, you let out a breath that you weren't aware that you were holding.
yourname: my biggest hobby 🚗
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>comments
maneater69: UR SO MOMMY AND DADDY CODED
liked by yourname
carlossainz55: ❤️
maneater69: HOLDUP @yourname ANSWER UR DMS RN
- yourname: SIS IDK WHAT'S GOING ON...
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"Lemme guess, he used his favorite line: you look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?" Paige, your co-worker, teased.
Carlos Sainz was renowned around the paddocks for being a womanizer. There wasn't a single pretty lady that he hasn't spoken to, and apparently he had a modus operandi - one that now involved you. "I mean it's weird because he actually does know me." you shrugged, wiping the car grease from your overalls.
"You used to go to the same school? You're from the same town?" Paige inquired, piqued by the sudden turn of events. "He used to be my babysitter." you groaned, regrettably exposing your secret.
A gasp escapes her mouth.
"That's some hot shit." she chuckled.
"You read too much romance novels." you tried to hide your interest. "- a man whose obviously much older than you, begins to fall in love." Paige antagonized even further, earning a sigh.
Her eyes light up, like headlights.
"Wait, now you have to be my plus one in that event that I'm going to. Carlos is going to be there!" she exclaimed, hatching a devious plan. "But he's a womanizer? Why would you want me to go for him?" your eyes narrowed, annoyed that you were even involved with him in a conversation involving love.
"He'll change for you - and if he doesn't, at least you experienced the feeling of having him love you." Paige mused.
"Sounds chauvinistic." you shrug and she rolls her eyes. "Take one good look at his face, cuz' if you're asking me. I'd rather find ruin in his hands than with some other cheap fuck." she tried to convince you, but you already wanted Carlos Sainz Jr. the moment you talked to him inside of that dark garage.
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yourname: ferrari knows how to partay
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paigenewhart: um ma'am who gave u the permit to serve?
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- yourname: i'd like to see ur permit too?
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After the main event, you were quickly whisked off to one of the after-parties. The club was pumping, the music was about to make your ears explode, but suddenly someone's hands were on the small of your back. You turn your head, and you meet his brown ones.
Carlos Sainz Jr. the man that you were here for.
His hands were tenderly placed on your body, nothing sexual - just sensual. It felt normal for his hand to be there. It was nothing different from a husband holding his wife, it was natural for him to be touching you, there were no electric sparks or anything.
"Intern from Ferrari?" he smiled and you smiled in return.
He remembered!
"I don't think that we properly introduced each other. I'm Carlos." he presented his free hand for you to shake. "(Your Name)," you smiled, hoping that he wouldn't remember.
"Oh, that is why you were familiar!" he giggled, a wave of resonance flashing through his features. "I used to babysit you, right? I didn't even recognize you - you've changed." his eyes lingered back and forth. Men like him were easy, there was hidden desire behind those innocent brown eyes.
"- and you haven't changed at all." your teeth burrowed into your cheeks. "You make me feel old, there's only what...seven years between us?" he inquired, doing all the mental math.
"Yep, I was six and you were thirteen." you chuckled nervously, suddenly all the bass seem to tune out of your ears - and the only thing that you could pay attention to was Carlos.
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His lips were on yours, the taste of champagne echoing through your enclosed mouth. His hands roamed around your body, a man searching for water in the middle of a desert.
"Why don't we take this to my room?" he suggested, and you broke free from the kiss - by extension also his hug. A wave of clarity engulfed your body. Did you really want to do this?
"I'm not that kind of person. I'm sorry, this was a mistake." you bolted out of your seat, retreating into the sea of people in front of you.
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(UNKNOWN NUMBER)
Not that kind of person
What does that mean?
(YOU)
not the kind to do 1 night stands
m sorry
(Sainz Jr.)
I'm sorry for making you feel that way.
I never thought of you as just a one night thing.
(YOU)
nono it's ok
don't lie on my account
i understand
(Sainz Jr.)
No it's not.
Let me make it up for you.
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yourname: spontaneous trip to paris 🇫🇷
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>comments
carlossainz55: Five minutes before disaster
- yourname: not my fault 🤷🏻♀️
carlandounite: UMM? CARLOS SAINZ'S NEW GF?
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carlossainzjrupdates: Carlos Sainz's new gf? @yourname who is apparently a family friend. This is a pic of her with Ana Sainz, Carlos' sister.
liked by 8,483 others
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☆°•*⁀➷he's not just a man, mom.. ´ˎ˗
Luke Castellan x Fem!Athena!Reader
Synopsis: Reader sneaks on a cruise ship with Percy, Annabeth and Tyson. Guess who she has a run in with !!!!
Warning(s): slight angst. and uh swears ig
Word Count: 1833
A/N: part 2 was requested😘 and I skimmed over a lot, I didn't want to copy and paste most of Sea of Monsters so yk
Part 1
Months, well actually, an entire school year has past since your boyfriend, well ex boyfriend now, Luke turned to Kronos. And yes, the rumors are true! Time heals all wounds!! Sure you needed some more time but you were starting to get back to your normal self slowly but surely. And the Athena head counselor position was rightfully handed right back to you (until Annabeth comes back for the summer).
Normally time isn't real for a year rounder like yourself, but there's been an issue. The magic barrier that protects camp Half-Blood is held up by Thalias tree, except her tree has been poisoned. No one knows when or how it happened, but you decided to keep your guess to yourself. Well that doesn't matter now. With Thalias tree slowly getting worse and worse, the border surrounding camp is weakening, allowing monsters to start slipping through and find the camp. Defenses are thinning, and even with summer around the corner enrollment numbers are at their lowest.
Thankfully you weren't on Charisse's bad side so she didn't mind joining forces. And don't get it twisted, you love Annabeth, but you've never loved her more than when you watched her and Percy (and a cyclops??) run up the hill and help fight the monsters.
After the fighting was over, you weren't injured yourself so you went to help out at the infirmary. It helped keep your mind off stuff, and now you had Percy and Annabeth to keep you company. You were currently checking them for burns.
"Wow, 13 and no body hair?"
"THE MONSTER BURNED IT OFF."
You and Annabeth just laughed at the boy. After you both calmed down you started to explain whats been happening the last couple of months at camp while they've been away. Grim expressions washed over them as you finished, Chiron being fired and being replaced with TANTALUS was truly the cherry on top in your opinion.
"Well, time to eat right?"
This might've been one of the most interesting dinners yet. The cyclopes, also known as Tyson, ended up getting claimed by Poseidon (Percy wasn't the biggest fan of this particular development), and we have an upcoming Chariot race coming up (something Tantalus decided to start doing). You weren't planning on participating in the race, but Annabeth and Percy got into a fight so now you had too.
Finally the day came and instead of a friendly race, everyone was attacked by killer birds that were just barely shot out the sky. Maybe some help on Clarrise's end would've been nice, but she thought winning was more important, while you, Tyson, Percy and Annabeth just got punished.
The four of you were stuck washing dishes when the two younger campers got to talking. They were smart ones, basically we needed the Golden Fleece, simple as that. Except who did Tantalus give the quest too? The winner of the race. Clarisse.
"But Grovers my friend!"
"Yeah you guys wouldn't even have the quest if it weren't for us!"
Your yelling didn't help matters, the Ares kids just accused Percy of wanting the spotlight. They just never liked Percy after he beat up their dad, the fact he did that still amazes you. You and Annabeth just accepted the defeated and walked yourselves to your cabin.
"So Annabeth, how's it been in the outside world?"
"Cooler than I thought but please, how's it been with.. you know what?" You averted your gaze slightly and swallowed. You were getting better, but that certainly didn't mean you were over him.
"I haven't heard from mom in like eight months." Annabeth looked at you confused. You never told her about the last conversation with Athena.
"What? I thought you were like, her favorite or something?"
"To be fair I basically told her to fuck off," you shrugged like it wasn't that serious but your sister looked at you like you were crazy. "It was about Luke, you know she never liked him." She just nodded as you both walked back to your cabin. When you got there neither of you couldn sleep and decided to stay up late studying maps of the sea of monsters, where Grover and the Golden Fleece were. Suddenly Annabeth stood up.
"Annie whats wrong?" You asked, looking between her and the maps.
"You didn't hear that?" you just shook your head slowly.
"Maybe it's just time to sleep-"
"No it was Percy, he was screaming for help cmon!" You decided not to bother questioning it and started chasing after her. Annabeth was following the sound and you just followed her. You guys made it out to the beach, where you saw Percy, just fine and not screaming. Tyson came running out too.
"Percy are you okay? Why were you screaming?" Annabeth questioned.
"I wasn't screaming, but I'm glad you guys are here." Percy explained how he had a run in with Hermes. The thought of Hermes just makes you think of Luke. That kinda sucks.
"Anyways, we need to use this," Percy held up a jar and pointed to the cruise behind him, "to get over there."
"Seems... reasonable. We have to hurry the harpies are getting close." you urged.
"Yeah ask your dad for some help" Annabeth pushed Percy toward the ocean. Why did Percy start with small talk, we're on a time crunch. Never the less a bunch of hippocampi came forward and we were off.
"I've never been on a cruise before, I wonder what it's like." You said.
"Probably won't be like any normal one if Hermes sent us." Percy pointed out. If Hermes sent us you, you hoped it meant what you thought it did. And you hated that you were hoping for that. Luke. Ever since your last conversation with your mom, it's like you've been seeing things differently. The gods really did just use their kids, but could you really turn your back on them?
You were cut out of your thoughts when you finally made it to the ship. You all snuck on and wandered through the cruise. Everyone here was like a bunch of lifeless zombies. Now if that didn't raise your suspicious nothing would. You guys were sneaking around until you found an empty suite on the 9th floor. Sleep was a must right now.
"Us girls will be next door alright?" You said.
"Yeah, don't eat or drink anything either," Annabeth added. She was right, something was off here. You and Annabeth left to your side of the suite to change for bed. Annabeth was knocked out in seconds but you just couldn't sleep. You knew why Hermes wanted you guys here, and it kept you up. While your sister was snoring beside you, you took the chance the sneak out the room. All you had was an oversized t-shirt that hung to your mid thigh and a dream.
As you started walking around, there were no lights to be seen. You started from your floor and made your way up. When you got off the elevator on the 13th floor, you saw the room at the end of the hall had a light on. It was nearing 2AM, most people should be asleep. That's when your gut told you this is what you were looking for. You thought it was time to listen to it. You made your way to the door, and saw that it was unlocked. You slowly opened the door and saw a certain someone with his back facing the door, looking off into the ocean through his window.
"Hey Luke," you said. Luke didn't move for a second, but when he turned it was slow.
"Y/N.. I didn't think I'd see you again." Your lip quirked ever so slightly, and you walked up and sat down on the bed in front of you, now just a mere few feet away from him
"Likewise."
"Lemme guess, Percy and Annabeth are with you? Were you sent to kill me?"
"Yes, and no. We weren't sent here, or anywhere in fact."
"Wow, look at her. Ms. Rule Breaker. What would your mother think?" You swallowed at the mention of your mother. What would she think?
"Well, we haven't spoken in eight months." You looked at the ground.
"Hmm, what happened?"
"You happened, that's what." You looked back up at him, he had a shit eating grin on his face. "Wipe that smile off your face Castellan."
"Or what? You're already here, why waste our time together fighting? We both know you're not here for the gods," Luke teased. He was right, so why fight?
"Just come here," you lunged up and jumped in his arms, kissing him like the starved woman you were. You missed him more than you were allowed to admit. Luke was a sore spot at camp, but hey, right now that was not your problem. You knew you were probably disgracing your family by being here doing what you were doing, or WHO you were doing, but you didn't care. You just needed Luke, even if it was just one last time.
When you woke up after a few hours, you wouldn't say you regret it, but maybe it wasn't the best timing. You were facing the window while Luke held you close. You slowly moved his arm from your waist and sat up, seeing the little clothing you had scattered across the room. Crazy night. You untangled yourself from Luke and got redressed. You truly didn't want to leave, but despite everything you couldn't stand with Luke and the war, too many lives would be lost on his behalf. As you made your way to the door Luke woke up,
"So this is it?" You had your hand on the doorknob and turned back to face Luke.
"Yeah," you made eye contact with him, a single tear falling. "It is."
"Goodbye Y/N."
"Goodbye Luke." You made your way out the door and shut it behind you. You took a deep breathe before rushing back to your shared room with Annabeth on the 9th floor. You opened the door, making sure not to make too much noise, except Annabeth wasn't in her bed. You continued walking into the room when the bathroom door opened from behind you.
"And where were you?" Annabeth questioned as she walked out the door.
"With no one!" You said quickly. Annabeth scared the shit out of you. She slightly frowned.
"He's here isn't he? That's why Hermes wanted us to come here?" You just nodded. "Guess it explains the hickies," Annabeth yawned and headed back to her bed. Your face flushed as you ran into the bathroom. Wow.. awkward!!!!
"It was just a goodbye, I'm not joining him," you walked out the bathroom and laid down next to Annabeth. "I can't stand for a war, no matter how much I love him. Or loved."
"Glad you made up your mind, but it's 6AM, can we sleep a little longer?"
You chuckled, "Of course."
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We've Got Tonight (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader)
A/N: WOW, is all I can say. The alarming support from those of you reading my work is driving me to write more than EVER right now! I cannot say thank you enough, y'all. Your notes and comments inspire me, so please keep it up if you wanna read more from me!
I'm about to bless y'all with some McBeardy angst, so I hope you all enjoy!!
Also, this fic was inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so I highly recommend listening to the song before and/or after reading this one to get into the vibe of it.
Summary: Paul is in his lonesome after a break up. So are you. You decide to keep each other company.
WARNINGS: ANGST, but it gets sweet in the end. Mentions of cheating, low self esteem. Suggestive actions, mentions/insinuation of sex, but no smut (that'll be saved for a bonus part 2 if anyone's interested in that.)
There is mention of the Beatles' extended family, so if I have any incorrect info in here, I apologize in advance; I didn't want this to become too much of a history lesson.
Also, like my other fics, this one is a NOVEL, so please read when you have a good half hour+ of free time :)
I don't wanna rate this a T, but there is no smut in this, so please just be aware that there is sex mentioned/insinuated, so PLEASE just read at your own discretion. But most of all, enjoy!
Paul was sitting on the sofa in the den, alone with the lights out. He was staring out the window at the night in silence as he sucked down another cigarette and sipped at another glass of scotch.
It was late enough that the world around him was dead sleep, yet he was wide awake, and alone with his thoughts.
He broke it off with Linda. She was a sweet girl, and no one was really quite sure why things ended between them, but they all knew it was a mutual agreement.
Paul really hadn't been taking it well, though. He hadn't been sleeping right for almost a month, and he stared drinking a little more. He didn't want anyone really knowing, which is why he did it in his lonesome.
He wasn't necessarily by himself, because the rest of the Beatles were upstairs in their collective rooms asleep; but what made him feel alone was that alongside the bandmates in their rooms were their families and wives. And Paul just didn't have that.
Usually he would have been rather vocal over something that bothered him so much, but the band felt like recently they'd been clashing, so he wasn't wanting to bother them with something like that.
While Paul finished the final puff of his cigarette and put out the butt in the ashtray on the coffee table, his head snapped to the entrance of the den, where he caught sight of a silhouette in the threshold.
You stopped in your tracks when Paul made eye contact with you. You supposed he'd heard your footsteps.
From what you could tell from the light of the moon shining in through the window, Paul seemed worn out. He rubbed the side of his face with his free hand before wordlessly nodding to you in acknowledgement.
"... I'm sorry to intrude. I didn't know anyone was still awake. I was just needing a drink," you explained quietly. You'd met Paul a few times here and there-- you had to, with Ringo-- or Rich-- your brother, being one of his bandmates and all.
Paul was always kind when you interacted with each other, but you could definitely tell something was a little off about his behaviour this time around.
Rich did mention Paul's break-up to you briefly, but you were going through your own separation, so you were in your own head with your own problems. That's why Rich offered to bring you along with him, Maureen, Zak, and Jason on this trip with the rest of the guys and their families, so you could get away from thinking about your ex.
Unfortunately, the unfamiliar space put you in the same position as Paul; wide awake, in the middle of the night, with a racing mind.
"'S alright," he sighed before drinking the rest of the scotch in his glass and raising to his feet. You watched him move around the room to the alcohol cabinet right outside the kitchen.
He refilled his glass right to the top before wordlessly grabbing a second glass out, tossing in a few ice cubes, and filling it three quarters of the way before sliding it over to you.
Your eyes widened a little, considering you'd actually come down for some water, but maybe this was a sign you were going to want something stronger.
"... Should've asked you if you even like this stuff," Paul stated apologetically when he realized how gentlemanly he was not being. You smiled sadly at him, but picked up the glass anyways.
He matched his glass to the same level as yours before you both gently tapped them together. The sound of the glass chimed for a moment before you and Paul raised the drinks to your lips.
The scotch was harsh, and you surely made an unflattering face as you took a sip, but Paul didn't say anything to you, as he was too busy staring at the ice swirling around in his own glass.
"... What're you doing up so late, if you don't mind me asking?" You asked after a moment of silence, and Paul's big brown eyes met yours for another quiet second as he thought about what to respond with.
He pushed his tongue into his cheek before shrugging and mumbling into his glass, "thinking."
After taking another sip of his drink and staring off into space for a moment or two, he bit his lip, gesturing over to you with his glass.
"And you?" You shook your head, realizing it was your turn to scrounge up an excuse for being wide awake at such an absurd time.
"Can't sleep," you lied.
Paul frowned, motioning you to the sofa he was just sitting on to invite you to sit for a while. After a moment of pondering whether you should really go back to your room, you made up your mind and headed to the sofa, Paul following suit.
There was just something about the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, and behind them was this sadness you just couldn't ignore.
Before he took a seat, you were able to get another good look at him. He was in black jeans, and a green sweater; his day-clothes completely contrasting your pyjama set. He'd grown his hair out since you saw him last, and now he was sporting a full beard.
You always thought he was a good looking guy, but now, without being blinded by any bias, there was really no denying how handsome Paul had become since you seen him last.
In fact, it felt like every time you ended up seeing him next, he always seemed to look better and better, and you weren't quite sure how that was possible.
Paul took the seat right next to you, and he set his drink down on the coffee table, clasping his hands together, elbows on the thighs, and hanging his head.
"To be honest with you... I went through a separation about a month ago. And I don't seem to be handling it well." He finally sighed, turning his head so he was looking at you again. He unclasped his hands and ran his fingers through his beard a few times.
"I'm a romantic, y'know, and I'm not a fan of being so lonely." You nodded your head a little at his words. What was tough was that you didn't have anything encouraging to say to him because you were in the same boat.
Paul swallowed when you remained silent, and then he cleared his throat. He scratched the back of his head nervously as he leaned back into the sofa.
"I'm sorry, I know it's late, and you're probably just wanting to head to bed." He gave a little head nod of understanding as he rubbed his eye with his finger. "You're not here to talk to me about my problems."
It was your turn to set your drink down on the table, turning your attention to him again.
"Well... will that help make you feel better, perhaps?" you watched Paul's eyes meet yours again, and he pressed his lips together tightly in thought.
"... I don't know if there is really much to say," he said after a moment, reaching for his glass again.
"Thank you, though. Was very kind of you to offer somethin' like that."
After he took another sip of his drink, he gestured to you again with his glass.
"... Ringo sort of mentioned you were going through a separation too... You doin' okay?" Paul tried his best to be as inclusive as possible, but it was all rough stuff to talk about, so he treaded carefully.
"I mean..." you trailed off for a moment before responding with a simple, "I'm angry, above all else."
You were honestly taken aback by Paul's question. Rich wasn't necessarily the greatest person to receive comforting advice from, especially when it came to this separation, since he thought so highly of your ex, but you perhaps weren't telling him the whole truth.
But you were definitely surprised he even mentioned your pain to anyone else, let alone his bandmates.
"Kept a lot of heavy things to myself for a long time, it just became exhausting." Now it was your turn to reach for your scotch, still cringing at its strength as you took a generous mouthful.
Paul waited a beat before asking, "would talking about it with me maybe make you feel better?"
"... you really care to know that stuff?" You asked gently for clarification. As mentioned, you and Paul weren't close, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you met him prior to this moment...
And this was heavy stuff you were seemingly about to share, and you really wanted to make sure he was okay with that.
Paul nodded his head without hesitation, and offered, "'s the least I can do for you for keeping me company so late."
You sighed a deep breath, and took a few more sips from your glass before putting it back down, curling your legs up to your chest, and began.
You told Paul about your ex. You told him about how you were with him for five years, and watched him slowly fall out of love with you, sleep around, and how you struggled with self-image and self-worth for a long time.
You also mentioned how you were the one to leave, but he had no idea you had any strength to do so, so he tried for a long while to guilt you into going back to him.
The difficult things to talk about made you a little more emotional, so you breathed your way through it slowly as to not cry. The drink Paul poured for you was helping you relax at least.
Paul was more than patient with you, and you were grateful for that. At one point during the lengthy conversation, he lit another cigarette, and began offering you drags throughout your story to calm your nerves.
You took those offers graciously, and thankfully.
"... I don't know. I just lay awake every night, wondering if there was something I could have done different so he didn't do what he did."
You were staring out the window with Paul now, taking in just how many stars you could actually see from the den. He took his final puffs of his smoke, the thin silver waves swirling in the air above the both of your heads.
"Sounds like he didn't cherish you enough when you were around," Paul debated gently, shaking his head and putting out his cigarette end in the ashtray next to the others. He picked up his scotch again before mumbling against the rim,
"He's not worth it."
You pulled yourself from the trance of the tiny lights outside to wipe remnants of silent, salty tears off your cheeks, and you used that moment to glance over at Paul, whose nose was still deep in the glass. When he pulled the drink away from his mouth and swallowed, you parted your lips to speak.
"... was Linda worth it?" You didn't mean it in a rude way, but you hadn't met her personally, and you wanted to pry Paul just a tiny bit.
He smiled, but it was bitter. You figured you struck a nerve, and before you could apologize for what you said, he answered simply, with tears glossing his own eyes,
"Yes. She was."
You tilted your head a little and frowned, trying to understand what drove them apart.
"It was just never the right timing. She was ready for things I wasn't in the beginning, and then down the road, when I was seemingly ready for those things, she wasn't. And I didn't want her wasting her time on a life she didn't wanna live, y'know?"
"So she's the one that got away," you mused gently.
"Indeed, she was." Paul nodded a little before finishing the rest of his scotch in his glass, leaning back again, and cradling his head in his hand as he looked at you for another quiet moment, resting his glass in-hand on his thigh.
"... I'm not a bad person, am I?" Those watery eyes never disappeared, and you had to break his sad gaze, opting to reach out and rub his shoulder comfortingly.
"Hey, no. Wasting your time, or her time, like the way my ex did to me, would have made you a bad person, Paul. Saying good bye was the right thing to do."
"Well, I wish that made me feel better," he mumbled, dropping his own gaze to the space between the both of you. He pushed a stray tear away before he thought you could see it, and then scratched at his beard again. You guessed that must have been a habit of his out of stress.
"Something about her made me feel like she was the one. Like we were meant to share the same story; but we always seemed to be on a different chapter,"
He sniffled, but only once. "That being said, was I perhaps too lovestruck in the end to want to believe that her future was meant to be shared with someone else?"
His voice carried so much sorrow, and you knew he needed some kind of advice. It took you a moment or so to find the right words to say to him.
"... Knowing my ex wasn't right for me and the reality of me leaving doesn't make me feel any better. At all." You offered to Paul, before adding,
"... But why should the expectations of those we chose to take out of our life dictate the way we behave today?"
The words that came out of your mouth were surprisingly wise, and you watched Paul's eyebrows knit together as he absorbed what you said.
He focused his sight to you again, a more determined look on his face. Paul knew you were absolutely right. He was a charmer; romancing people was his thing.
There was no denying Linda was special, but when he realized he really had no commitment in romancing her anymore, he finally understood that it was his own thoughts holding him back.
Even if it took him a little longer than expected, he knew you were right. He would recover from this.
"... I think you just opened my eyes and made me realize something... Thank you, y/n, really." He reached up with his free hand after a second, fingers grazing your own hand still on his arm in comfort, showing you his gratitude for your words of advice.
You smiled a little, glad you were able to help him somewhat through his times of trouble as you pulled your hand away.
Paul stood up again, retrieving his empty glass from the coffee table before facing you fully, a more genuine smile beginning to pull on the corners of his mouth, but it was still rather sad.
"I'm grabbing a refill, you too?"
Your sight drifted to your near-empty glass on the table.
Why let tonight go to waste? End so soon?
"Please," you asked, grabbing the glass yourself, but Paul began to tut at you as he grabbed the glass from your fingers.
"Please, I'll get it for you," he insisted, and you watched his slender figure move around the couch to head for the alcohol cabinet another time. He filled them only halfway this time, and on the way back he made a brief stop at the record player near the entrance of the den.
Soft classical music rang out quietly from the player once Paul dropped the needle down onto the vinyl, and he returned to his spot next to you with your two drinks. You thanked him quietly as he passed the glass over to you, and he leaned in a little, raising his drink between the two of you.
"Hello to... new beginnings," he began slowly.
"And Goodbye to false finales," you finished, your glasses tapping together again before you took yet another sip of the drink.
Paul matched your movements, his eyes watching you, even when you turned away to gaze longingly out the window for a moment, basking in the feeling of the gentle music flirting with your ears.
Sure, you and Paul could have went on for the rest of the night discussing your heartbreak, but you decided to drive the conversation elsewhere.
You sighted back to him after a while, his sight unwavering from you. Your eyes locked for just a beat before you decided aloud with a gentle nod,
"... you know, that beard really suits you."
Paul's eyebrows shot up, and his face darkened a little as he bit his lips between his teeth almost nervously.
"... Think so?"
You'd never seen him lack so much confidence when given a compliment before, but instead of pitying him, you almost admired his innocence.
It sounded like he needed to hear a compliment like that.
"Yes," you laughed airily, raising your glass up for another drink. Paul couldn't bite back his smile anymore, so he copied you to mask his lips. You then gestured to your head with the point of your finger as you swallowed the alcohol back easier and easier each time.
"Your hair, too. I think it's a nice length."
Your kind words made Paul feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he placed his scotch back down on the table.
"Well, thanks, Love." He rubbed the back of his neck, and laughed weakly. "I call it my 'Don't View The Mirror For Three Weeks' look."
Paul paused in his moments of self-deprecation to realize he should have maybe complimented you back. He took a second to take another good look at you as he decided what to say, exactly.
"... Y'know, the last time I saw you was a few years ago, now."
You thought for a moment on that. It had been a while since you'd seen him last. You nodded your head as you recalled the day.
"You're right, it has been some time. Christmas, 1966." John and Cynthia had hosted this massive holiday dinner, and everyone's extended family was there.
You were single at the time, and spent dinner conversing with Paul's sister, Ruth, who was at least fifteen years younger than you. There was no introduction made by Paul, she just walked up, introduced herself to you, and made a friend by herself.
She went on and on about school, and music, and how the potatoes were her favourite part of dinner; and you paid attention to everything she had to say, responding with your own opinions and jokes to keep her feeling included amongst the adults at the table.
And Paul, who was seated next to Ruth, couldn't help but overhear your conversations throughout the evening, and he found it rather charming that you treated Ruth with such respect despite her young age.
And after dinner, you and Ruth danced together almost the whole night. She eventually went over to do a little dancing with Paul, and you watched as she bounced around excitedly with her brother, who, for just a moment, locked eyes with you across the sea of dancing guests.
You remember giving him a shy wave with a smile, and he sent a wink back your way before returning his attention to Ruth, spinning her around as she squealed happily.
"... I'm rather fond of that evening," Paul stated simply, the reality of your melancholy evening strongly contrasting with the memories of the wonderful night.
Now you and Paul weren't so young, and this time he was noticing the little lines under your eyes, indicating the dragging march of time slowly catching up to you both.
"And, even after all the years that have passed... you still look as lovely tonight as you did then."
You blushed at Paul's compliment, biting back a stupid grin as you repeated the words in your head.
"And I admire your ever-present kindness," he added on, and you knew he really just meant he showed appreciation for lending him an ear in his time of need.
"More people need to be like you."
"I don't know what to say," you said honestly, settling for a gentle "thank you," in the end. Paul just nodded, unsure if there was anything to say back.
"You know..." you paused for a second, watching as Paul went for another sip from his glass. "It was quite a shame we never got a dance in that night together, just you and me."
Paul was mid sip when you said that, so you continued on.
"The music was great, everyone was in high spirits, and I was maybe too shy to approach you myself and ask you to dance with me. So I guess that's on me." You scratched your elbow as you announced your rather dumb confession to him.
Paul, who was nearly done with his drink now, waited a moment or two in thought, before rising to his feet, and wandering back over to the record player, scotch still in hand.
You tried to watch his movements over your shoulder, but it was really dark. All you knew was that he was changing the music.
The classical tune cut, and the player began to drawl a much slower, more recent song; one you hadn't yet heard.
Paul turned on his heel as he reapproached the sofa, taking the final sip of scotch he had left in his glass before placing it back down on the table, and reaching his hand out for you to take.
"Well, let's not let this dance wait any longer, then, yeah?"
You froze for just a moment, Paul's outstretched hand hung in the air for a few seconds, and your sight moved up to his face, where you noticed his confidence falter just a little.
"Again, I know it's late, and I know your plans for the night surely didn't include me..."
"But, still, here we are." Your words came out almost effortlessly. You finished your scotch as well, and when you finally put your hand in Paul's, he squeezed your fingers gently, that warm upturn finally returning to his lips.
He guided you slowly over to the windows so you weren't in so much darkness, the moonlight still shining just enough for you both to see one another; and when Paul decided he could see your face much better, he let his other hand drop to your waist, watching as your own hand rested on his forearm.
You both shifted from side to side to the beat of the music, and you stared absentmindedly at the small space between you both.
"... You okay?" He asked you quietly after a minute, and you looked up at him, cheeks reddening as you realized you could feel his breath fanning your face.
"I've realized just how long it's been since I last danced with someone like this," you mentioned sheepishly, and a little smirk pulled at the corner of Paul's mouth.
"You don't have two left feet, y'know," his tone was almost teasing, and you smiled back, glad he wasn't feeling so much sadness anymore.
Paul then added with a little shrug, "'Sides, I wanted to dance with you that night, too. But I'm very glad I have the honours now."
Paul began turning with you in slow circles together as you continued to sway, and you took a moment to decide your next words carefully.
"... I suppose what I'm trying to say is that it's different when you're dancing with someone who actually wants to dance with you. It's just... it's really nice. So thank you, Paul."
Paul let go of your waist for a moment, and raised your clasped hands above your heads so you could twirl under his arm. When you did just that, and faced him again, he pulled you just a little closer than you were before, your torsos flush as his hand snaked slowly to the small of your back.
"Thank you," he mumbled back, quietly. You weren't entirely sure what he was thanking you for this time, but you never asked.
Instead, you shut your eyes and opted to rest your head in the crook of his neck as the hand you had on Paul's bicep slid upward so your arm circled around his shoulders, in a half embrace.
And then you felt Paul tilt his own head down as if to envelope you more. You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't skip a beat when he did that.
Paul then began to hum the lyrics of the song, quietly, as if you were the only person in the world who was meant to hear it. Both yours and his eyes were closed now as you two basked in such a beautiful moment.
Two lonely people, finding comfort, and peace in each other.
Paul raised your clasped hands closer to him so he could rest them against his chest. You could actually feel his heartbeat pounding against the side of your hand, which made you a little nervous, but not in a bad way.
Paul stopped moving you around in circles, but the swaying never ceased. He lifted his cheek off your crown after a while, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and raise your gaze back to his face.
Paul smiled so sweetly at you, and you watched his eyes shift ever so slightly from left to right as he looked back into yours. His eyebrows then worried for just a moment before he opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, but no words came out.
Your shifting finally slowed to a standstill, and you opened your mouth this time to speak, yet you found yourself in Paul's very position.
There was nothing to say.
You watched as his gaze softened on you, and you weren't sure if it was the drinks, or the lack of sleep, but it was like you could almost feel the gravity around you manipulating you to move just a little closer to him.
And he must have felt it as well. Paul's head began to drop slowly, and it wasn't long before you met him in the middle, your lips coming together in a very soft, and very unplanned kiss. The both of you kept still, almost as if the smallest move would have frightened the other away.
You were both holding your breath as well, and Paul pulled away from the kiss first, arm still wrapped around your back, hand still clasped in yours.
He was staring at you in awe, as were you, eyes wide, and lips still slightly parted as you both processed what exactly just happened.
Paul still couldn't muster any words, nor could you, for that matter; but he could definitely read your gaze. Your eyes were almost begging him to do that again.
And that's exactly what happened; your lips came crashing into each other again after only another second.
You weren't stupid, and neither was he. You both already knew this night was going to become something else entirely. You were craving the touch of someone, and you didn't even have to tell him.
You could just tell with the way he was moving his mouth against yours, and the way his body was flush with you, that he was wanting it just as bad.
Paul's hand finally let go of yours so he could lace his fingers into the hair at the back of your head, and your own hand slid around to his back. He tried pulling you even closer, but it just wasn't possible.
You sighed quietly as you kissed him again, and again, and Paul's hand unweaved itself from your hair as he cupped your face before breaking the kiss off again, another troubled look on his face.
"Ringo'll kill me if he knew I was--"
"Paul, please. I need this," you didn't let him finish his sentence. You didn't really care what your brother thought of anything, and you assumed, deep down, Paul really didn't care either, because he dove back in for more kisses as soon as he could.
His hands cupped your jawline as you gripped his sweater in your fists at his chest. You parted your mouth slightly and just melted into Paul's arms when he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip.
You moaned lowly against him, ears ringing, and all Paul could think to do was blindly shuffle you backwards towards the sofa, but instead, you felt the coffee table hit the back your legs, and you nearly stumbled back. The glasses, once filled with scotch but now only ice, shuffled against the table's surface at the force of you bumping into it.
Paul ended your kiss once more, one of his hands leaving the side of your face to circle around your hips quickly so you didn't fall back. He smiled at you when he knew you weren't going anywhere, offering you a teasing, "maybe you do have two left feet, Darling."
That wonderful pet name made your flesh rise with goosebumps, but all you could mumble to him was, "Just shut up and kiss me, Paul."
Without hesitation, he did just that, which felt like an eternity to the both of you since the last one.
He, still blindly, yet carefully, directed you around the table and to the sofa. Paul, with his hands holding your hips, was the first to sink down, but encouraged you to straddle him as soon as he was fully seated with an encouraging tap to the back of your thighs.
It was your turn to pull away now, your dominant hand resting flat against the centre of Paul's chest as you gave him a good once-over, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm.
Paul was leaned back, lips parted and shining, assumably from the spit you'd been exchanging, and his eyes almost twinkling at you in adoration.
Your heart was full of something you hadn't felt in a very long time, and it was all because of this sensual interaction.
You reached out with your other hand and ran your thumb over his bottom lip, his shallow breath fluttering gently against the skin on your fingers. You tilted his head up and kissed him again, and your fingernails just couldn't resist playing with his beard any longer.
Paul's grip on your hips tightened when you started doing that, and when you decided to take your other hand off his chest and start playing with his hair, he let out a very low groan against your lips, and to both of your surprise, his hips bucked up involuntarily against you.
He gasped at his own actions, and you pulled away to view the look of apologetic shock written on his face. His cheeks and neck were flushed, and his eyebrows were bent in worry, again.
"I-I promise I didn't mean to..." Paul's voice carried a hint of... shame, almost. You watched as he nervously toyed his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried searching his brain for something to say, but the effects of his drink and your sweet attention had him grasping for any type of clear thought.
But all of his attempts went completely out the window when you lowered your hips down and rocked them back against his, his head falling back against the sofa as his eyes rolled, a guttural moan rumbling from deep within his chest.
It was absolutely apparent that Paul's jeans were lacking the room they'd possessed a few minutes prior, and when you repeated the circular motion with your hips again, feeling him hard against your core, you were rewarded with another low growl from him.
"W-wait," Paul uttered weakly after a second, arms and fingers tightening at your hips to keep you from moving around and teasing him again, as much as he didn't want you to stop.
"I want this so much. I want you so much," he began, taking a beat to rake his eyes down your body as his tongue swiped against his own bottom lip. His gaze flitted back to your eyes, and he swallowed nervously.
"I don't want you to do this if you aren't, y'know..." you waited for him to finish his thought, and his round pink cheeks seemed to flush just a little more.
"If you're not okay with it."
You took a second to think on his argument. You and he were relatively fresh out of troubled relationships, and you both seemed to be hurting from the aftermath of said relationships...
But you were so lonely, too. And, to each other, you were simply beautiful, and respectful people, offering your... company... in a time of isolation for you both.
And it wasn't like there was any label for what you two were, either. All you and Paul needed was to feel wanted-- to feel loved.
And only if you could experience such a feeling for one more night in your life, Paul was offering now. And you were going to take it.
"I want this moment to last, Paul. If you're okay with making me feel wanted again, I am more than comfortable doing the same for you."
You could see him visibly relax when you said that, relief washing over his features as he reached a hand up to caress the back of your neck and bring you into a single, sweet kiss. You still couldn't get over how gentle and polite he was still being about all of this.
"We should really... go to my room," Paul suggested quietly after pulling a fraction of an inch away from the contact. You nodded your head, sighing "okay" as Paul closed the gap between you both just once more, only for a peck.
He let go of your hips and he reached for your hands instead, fingers intertwining slowly, and affectionately. You slid out of his lap, and Paul rose to his feet, guiding you without a hurry towards of the threshold of the den, where you stood to greet him unexpectedly just an hour or so before this moment.
The 45 on the record player had since finished playing the song, needle spinning needlessly in silence. Paul briefly resituated the player before continuing your journey one step at a time towards his bedroom, the heart in your chest beating erratically.
You climbed the stairs together, one dragging step at a time, and Paul led you around the corner of the hallway, pausing at the first room on the right. He glanced over at you, hand on the doorknob as he gave you another look. One that was asking a final, "are you sure?"
You placed your free hand over Paul's without a sound, and together you opened the door. He pulled you in for one more intimate embrace, lips on yours again before he pulled you into the dark room, gently kicking the door closed behind him.
And that night, you stayed with Paul. Hand-in-hand, bodies entwined, souls healing, loneliness fading away, and hopes of feeling whole again finally returning.
Being awake in the middle of the night had never been so gratifying.
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A/A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! like I said, I can always whip up a part 2 regarding what happened behind those closed doors, so lmk if you're interested in that at all! Thanks for the support again and stay tuned for more works!
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