#I mixed up the colours on the flag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

somejazzinthemorning · 9 months

Text

tightrope. 11

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warning: Mature content Word Count: ~18K

It takes a lot to understand the truth when it is covered under years of hearing the same words. The word exploded around me, in screams and chants, confetti and champagne, but it all felt dull because when the phone rang the following morning, it was not “Papà” that was written on the screen.

It was not the day before, either. Or the days that followed.

Monday morning. 10 hours past the race, and Dad had not called.

Rio called right after the podium. The words tumbled from my lips, breathless and infused with the rush of adrenaline when I picked up the phone from Rocco’s hands and accepted the call. Racing down the pitlane, phone pressed to my face, I could feel the dampness of champagne against my skin and Rio’s voice erupting from the other end of the line, from the other side of the world.

“Eva! What the hell?!”

I was shaking—every cell in my body reverberating with the thrill of what we’d just accomplished. Time seemed slowed down, every detail around me sharper, more vibrant. My skin was covered in goosebumps, a mix of elation and disbelief coursing through me. My lips tasted of champagne, the sweet fizz lingering on my tongue. As my eyes flickered around the pitlane, taking in the sight of the small crowd of mechanics waiting for us at the end of the pitlane, the flags waving on the stands and the vibrant colours of team gear in the pitlane, a loud chuckle left my trembling lips, my fingers grip stronger on the trophy.

Reality seemed distorted, stretched over whatever material dreams were made of.

“A podium finish, Rio! A fucking podium finish!” My words blended in the cacophony of the team’s cheers, a symphony that echoed through the pitlane, now replacing the sound of the engines that had filled the air for the past six hours.

Ahead, Alexei, Alessandro Bianchi for more official affairs, set the pace. His legs were so long and quick it seemed like he was almost running. He was the one driving the car during the final laps. As for Henrik and me, we spent those last laps in the garage, our attention fixated on the car and the unfolding Corvette narrative. Shifting from that nail-biting tension to becoming drenched in a cascade of champagne, it was the blink of an eye.

Henrik's arm found its way around my neck, playfully pulling me into him. His tall frame towered above mine. “Time to drop the phone, DiMaggio. Let’s join the fiesta!”

“It’s my brother. Give me a minute.” I looked up, meeting his frowning face. “Promise you. Just a minute.”

Henrik was Finnish, had hair as fair as sunlight and eyes as blue as the ocean. He just nodded, and then I freed myself from his pull, walking to the side, finding support in the pit wall.

“I knew you could do it, ‘Vita. Sooner or later!” I pressed the phone against my ear, attempting to amplify my brother’s voice. “Get your head right, and everything else will fall into place. Look at what you just did.”

“I drove for less than 2 hours—”

“And you put the car exactly where it needed to be.” There was a genuine awe in my brother’s voice, something that I wasn’t quite used to listening to. Dad wouldn’t react this way. As a matter of fact, he didn’t react at all. “Those overtakes! That place must be going wild for you right now.”

I laughed, looking ahead. Alexei was climbing a mechanic’s back, his 36 years of age eclipsing as his face went full of joy and he looked like a child.

“Yeah. It’s… pretty insane.”

“The race ended less than half an hour ago and we’re already hearing your name all over the hotel. And we’re just having breakfast. You have no idea.” I’ve never heard Rio speak so fast in my life. A clatter resonated from Rio's end as if he was dragging a chair, and then his voice returned. “By the way, your timing is impeccable.”

“Why? What happened?”

My brother chuckled. “You managed to steal Carlos’ thunder on race day.”

“Shit, he’s starting on pole, right? Wish him luck for me.”

"No need to.” Oh. I was not ready to hear him. "I'm right here." A blend of excitement and wistfulness churned in my chest, a familiar pang of longing to be in two places at once. He wasn’t right there. Not anywhere close. “Man—Eva…” His voice rang again, I pictured the smile on his lips, as my name resonated. “You’re absolutely incredible.”

I leaned against the pitlane wall. Champagne dripped from my hair onto my face, the lingering taste a testament to the euphoria of the moment. I glanced upward, the raucous celebration of the team unfolding before me, champagne bottles raised high, exuberant cheers filling the air. Then, I looked down, at my wet fingers wrapped around the trophy,

“I wish you were here,” I murmured, my voice a soft whisper carried away by the wind. “Both of you.”

“DiMaggio!! Leave the phone!” Alexei called for me. In large, determined strides, he made his way toward me, holding a champagne bottle in his hand.

"I'll make sure to save some of this energy for when we reunite," I mused, my voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and longing.

“Hang up!” Alexei screamed, a playful edge to his tone as he quickened his pace. Henrik was behind him, holding another bottle. Their trophies had been left in the garage, on top of the car.

“Hope it won’t take long.” Carlos's voice, filled with warmth and affection, was the last thing I heard before the joyful chaos consumed me again, drenched in champagne and carried on my two teammates’ shoulders, back to the small crowd.

But then Monday came. With a throbbing headache and a dehydrated body, after a too-over-the-top evening packed with celebrations. My phone rang on the nightstand, and after picking it up, Nicola and Lin's faces filled the screen.

“You’ve got toothpaste on your cheek,” Lin pointed out, her surroundings showing the sturdy brick of her New York flat. She was back home, I didn’t know that. Somehow, I still thought she would be in Europe. “And congratulations on the race, by the way!”

Nicola sat in a dimly lit room, a soft white glow illuminating her face—by background noise that filled the air, I associated that the white glow was probably the glow of her TV. “I hate this time zone thing. Can’t stay long, sorry, hubby’s waiting for me in bed. What are you up to today?”

I glanced at the corner of the phone, noting the time. It was a bit before 7 a.m. It was probably around midnight for Nicola. As for Lin, it was a little past 7 p.m. I wiped away the toothpaste from my cheek and sat back on the bed, too tired to move.

“I have an interview today. At the track. In like, two hours. They’re doing tire testing, and James Anderson thought it would be a nice background for the interview.”

“James Anderson? The James Anderson?” Lin's enthusiasm was palpable as she turned in her chair, getting up from it seconds later and walking to another point in the room. The unsteady movement of the camera made my stomach churn. “Girl!”

Nicola laughed softly. “Eva, on a scale of 1 to 10, how freaked out are you?”

“A big ass 11.”

“You've got this in the bag,” Lin's voice chirped through the phone, her enthusiasm cutting through the fog of fatigue that lingered in my mind. “Unless you’re still a bit drunk from last night.”

“Just a tiny bit,” I admitted, flopping back onto the bed. The sudden motion made me feel queasy. “Yeah. Fuck. Not exactly drunk, but way too hungover for this. I don’t even know why I said yes to the interview. There’s literally nothing to talk about.”

“He did an amazing piece on the race. Well, an amazing piece on you,” Nicola chimed in. “I’ll post it tomorrow on the team’s socials.”

“That’s why Rocco convinced me to say yes.” I rolled over in bed, seeking a hint of comfort from the pillow and the soft comforter. “Why? I don’t know.”

“Get out of bed, or you'll fall asleep,” Nicola urged. “Also, get out of bed so I can go to bed.”

“You can go. I'll keep her company and help with what she should say.”

“She knows it better than you do,” Nicola was right. I was usually the one media training my clients, providing them with a bullet point list of acceptable topics and answers. So, technically, I should be able to do it for myself. But exhaustion from the weekend's efforts, compounded by a hangover, left me feeling drained. “Don’t you?”

“I do. But I’m just tired. I really, really don’t want to do this right now. I have a belly ache.”

“Eva, come on.” Lin moved again, her energy almost overwhelming enough to make me feel nauseated. “If you get nervous, just imagine the man in his underwear. They say it helps.”

I burst into laughter, the absurd mental image of James Anderson in his underwear momentarily banishing the exhaustion that had weighed on me. “Who says?”

Nicola threw her head back, laughing in response.

Lin grunted. “Them. People.”

"Thanks for that mental image, babe. I'll keep it in my back pocket."

As the laughter subsided, my eyes caught the corner of the screen. Time was passing. The interview was getting closer, and the reality of facing the camera was beginning to set in. Lin's expression turned earnest. "Seriously, Eva, you've got this. Stop overthinking. Just be yourself and ride this wave of success. You're on top of the world."

“That’s what scares me.”

And just like that, a frown appeared on both of their faces. Nicola's frown was more pronounced due to the glow of the TV in the background. Then, she clicked her tongue. “Ah, that’s why you wanted us to call.”

“Exactly.”

“And here I thought you were just missing us,” Lin teased. “Seriously, babe. You’ve got this.”

“Tell us what’s wrong.”

"It's just that sometimes…. I don’t feel like I deserve this? Like it should be harder than it is. Yeah, I can race. And yeah, I'm good at it. Pretty good. But the pressure? The questions? The idea that people are looking at me and expecting me to fail… I've been sick to my stomach just wondering what's happening next because that's what all those goddamn reporters kept asking me yesterday. And—I don’t know. I feel like my Dad is right. I'm not fit for this. ”

“What did that jerk say to you, again?”

“Lin, he’s her dad.”

“Yeah, and he was, is, whatever, my boss. Screw him, honestly. Eva, listen.” She paused and slid one of her lock braids to be back of her ear. “I hope you know he’s a loser, and everything he does and says is just a reflection of how much of a loser he is. He needs to control your life in a way he never got to control his—”

“Lin—”

“No, I don’t care. Listen.” She paused. Nicola took a deep breath, and I followed suit. “He’s your dad, I know. But I’ve been there and I’ve heard the stuff he says. I know him. I worked with Rio when we were both fresh out of college, and I've seen the way he treats both of you.” Again, I attempted to stop her, but she raised one finger. “And I've had enough. The fact that he’s your father isn’t a reason for him to be as mean as he is when things don’t go according to his plans. I've seen him blame Rio, in front of the whole team, for a storm on a test day because he should have known—”

“A test day. Yes, well, those are usually…”

“I don’t care. He’s your dad. He parades you around the way he thinks is best. What did he say this time?” Lin had a way of cutting through the noise and getting straight to the heart of the matter.

“A lot of stuff about how this sport isn’t for me and how he can’t understand my change of mentality in the last few weeks… How I fit better in an office. Just—a lot.”

“Of course he can’t. He never understood you at all. He’s not a good man, love.” She paused. “And I’m sorry.”

“But he’s my dad.”

“He is,” Nicola hummed. “But that doesn’t mean you owe him anything. You’re your own person.”

“Actually, I owe him my entire career.”

“Just because he has the money. And—Think: he never did one single thing for you that would risk his money. For heaven's sake, he made you race in The Challenge after you spent a year at home, struggling with anxiety and depression and he didn’t care if you were ready or not. The only thing he knew was that he was going to lose money if he didn’t get a driver in that seat. Rio was completely done with racing and there was no one available to take the remaining spot.”

“But I wanted to race.”

“I know you did.” Lin’s voice softened. “But like that, hun? From FRECA to The Challenge? We hoped you'd advance to at least any other regional series. Or that he would push for F3, he did it for Rio and, let’s face it, he’s not half as good as you.” I took a moment to absorb her words. They were raw, unfiltered truths that I had been avoiding. “It felt like you were back to square one. Doesn’t surprise me that you kept yourself busy with that college friend. Amanda, right?”

“Yes. And I still am. Keeps me busy. I can't have too much downtime, or else I go crazy.”

“Exactly. So…” Nicola interjected. “That’s not how it should be. You need breaks. You need downtime. You need to rest. You just had a break, and you had the time and the peace of mind to find your groove again.”

“I was in good company. In a nice place. And was busy with that said company.”

“See? So the issue is your Dad. It’s been what? Two weeks since you came back from Mallorca, and you just got a freaking podium, and now you’re struggling again because your Dad said things that made you overthink everything. You were so happy during the weekend, what happened?”

“He didn’t call. I thought I had proved him wrong and he didn’t even bother to call. And he’s my dad, you know? And now James Anderson is going to ask me stuff about the future my dad is holding in his hands. And I don’t want to answer.”

“Okay, let’s…” Nicola took a deep breath, her hand reaching for her hair and pulling it back. I sat up in bed, realizing it was time to gather myself. “You are holding that said future. Get the fuck out of bed, put on some makeup, and head to the track. Do the interview. It will go well. Don’t overthink the answers. It’s PR and you’re great at that. So just—think you’re one of your clients. And if your mind starts spiralling, Rocco is right there; I know he can keep you occupied if needed.”

Lin burst into laughter. “Oh, he can definitely keep her occupied.”

“Gross. He’s technically an employee.” I retorted. “And I bet he’s taken.”

“I’m sure Pulcini will be around, too,” Lin added, and I finally got out of bed, leaving my phone on the credenza, capturing me as I moved around the room and picked up my sneakers. “Or have we moved on from him?”

“We’re not focused on that because I’m working!”

“Can I finally go to bed? I want to get occupied, too.”

“No one here is getting ‘occupied,’” I remarked, slipping on my sneakers. “But yes, go to bed. I’ll do my makeup and head out.”

“It will go well, baby,” Lin said. “And if it gets weird, well, remember the underwear thing.”

The pit lane buzzed with activity, a hubbub of conversations and the clatter of rattle guns. Standing amidst it all, I found myself at the center of attention. The warmth of the sun kissed my skin, while in the distance, I could hear the sounds of the paddock being packed into trucks.

Before me stood James Anderson, his lanyard hanging casually over his chest, almost masking the fact that he wasn’t just another journalist, but the renowned James Anderson himself. Two chairs were positioned at the heart of the pit lane, a camera strategically placed near the pit wall, and a bustling garage composed the backdrop. Alexei and Henrik occupied the seats on the pit wall, their legs dangling, dressed in relaxed t-shirts and jeans. Matteo was in his race suit, totally recovered from the food poisoning episode, and ready to take on the test day.

The car would leave the garage in 20 minutes, so we had exactly that time. Not one minute more.

Despite the camera, Anderson held a notepad in his hand. His salt-and-pepper hair danced with the wind, uncovering his eyes, and sparking with curiosity. I noticed the subtle lines around them, testimony to the countless years spent witnessing greatness on track.

“Happy we can do this, Eva. I've been trying since your victory at Imola. Exceptional performance at the Challenge, too, by the way.”

I wasn’t aware of this desire to interview me earlier. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t aware he was even aware of my existence until he met me in the garage, after the podium ceremony.

"Well… now, we have more to talk about," I remarked, my smile flowing naturally. Anderson nodded, directing his gaze toward the cameraman, a signal to commence recording. "Be gentle with me," I quipped, playfully brushing aside my anxiety.

His laughter rang out. "No need to worry."

Casting a final glance at Alexei and Henrik, the latter waving at me just before Anderson shifted in his seat, reclaiming my attention, I took a final deep breath. This wasn't within my training regimen. I was nervous. My belly aching.

“Eva, let me start by congratulating you on your remarkable performance this weekend. You stepped in for your teammate Matteo Serra during the practice session. Could you walk us through how you adapted to the situation so quickly and what mindset you had going into the race?”

I nodded. My hands were on my thighs, fingers almost melting with the fabric of my jeans. Jesus. This was hard. On top of that, I could feel Alexei’s coal eyes on me, the intensity of his gaze travelling above Anderson’s shoulder, boring into me.

“Yeah, well. First of all, thank you,” I began, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The sunlight played across my face, warming my skin as I spoke. The journalist's expression seemed to relax, his posture slowly becoming more open. “Ahm—right, honestly, it was a whirlwind. Stepping into Matteo’s shoes so unexpectedly meant a quick mental switch. But that's what we’re trained for and what the team expects from me. I had to quickly familiarize myself with the track and the car's nuances… So, the team support was crucial, really. Alexei and Henrik were amazing the whole weekend,” I glanced towards my teammates, looking at each other, smiling. “We worked together to ensure a seamless transition, and I'm truly grateful for their trust.”

The slight tremor in my fingers betrayed the composed façade I was trying to showcase. I could feel the weight of the race weekend on my shoulders.

“Your performance during the race, particularly your amazing overtakes, drew the attention of many in the paddock.” The reporter went again. “Can you share the strategy and approach you took to navigate through the field and secure that impressive fourth-place finish?”

“Well, thank you again.” I chuckled softly, the sound carrying a mixture of humility and genuine pleasure. “I’m not used to this, I’ll admit.”

“Just being honest.”

“Okay—well… the strategy was a mix of precision and calculated risk. The adrenaline was pumping, and I was fully immersed in the race… And when the command to push came, and I realised the team trusted me, I just went for it. My general approach was to find those windows of opportunity without compromising the overall strategy… I mean, we had more pace than we expected and we had to make something out of it. We didn’t qualify great, what was a boomer, because we had faith we could qualify in the top 10. So, that not being the case, we had to be at 110%. The team did amazing with the pitstops, and the guys did amazing stints as well… And.. Since I was feeling comfortable with the car—thankfully I drive a similar car in another series, so it became a bit easier… I had to go for it. So, yeah—It's quite surreal to think about it now, but… I'm still in awe of how everything came together.”

My gaze drifted to the marks of tire rubber still visible on the asphalt. I could almost feel the energy of the cars rushing through the main straight, my feet vibrating with the phantom energy still running around us.

“You mentioned the team’s trust… DAR Racing's decision to extend your stint turned out to be a wise move since we could clearly see that you were getting gradually more confident in the car and risking more. At your level, with so little experience, how did you manage to maintain your focus and energy during that crucial period of the race? Did doubt quick in or…?”

This time, I couldn’t find comfort in the details on the pitlane. Anderson’s eyes didn’t leave mine. Curiosity glistened through his dark eyes, his passion and interest so clear. Probably he had noticed my state on the radio. The thousand questions I asked, how I pressed from lap times and places of improvement. I was freaking out inside the car. Properly. I wanted to go fast. Faster. I wanted to come out of every corner perfectly.

“Interesting point… Yeah—So…” I took a moment, my hands subtly trembling from a mix of lingering adrenaline and fatigue. My eyes flickered toward the reporter, his expression a mix of interest and empathy. “Maintaining focus and energy during the stint was undoubtedly challenging.” Pause. A small breath. “As the laps went by, I did feel a surge of confidence building within me but the team's strategy and encouragement played a huge role in keeping me on track, both mentally and physically.” I chuckled softly, a glint of self-awareness in my eyes, realizing the play of words. “But yeah—doubt is a natural human response in such a demanding situation. I’d never done anything similar. Or even raced for this much time. What was it? A bit more than an hour and a half?” Pause. He nodded. “Yeah. So. There’s a lot involved and a big part is the mental game. I'm grateful I had the right support system to keep me motivated through the race.”

Alexei's presence stretched through the pitlane, his supportive gaze feeling like a reassuring anchor. Henrik, with his elbow perched on Alexei’s shoulder, sent me a nod of approval. They were witnesses to the doubt, to the lack of sleep on Thursday night when I was notified that Matteo was on his way to the hospital, after throwing up for almost one hour straight and my body and mind couldn’t seem to handle the fact I would be driving that weekend.

They were patient. They made it possible.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Anderson, probably noticing the silent exchange, looked over his shoulder. Turning to me, another question hung on his lips. “You seem really in sync with the team. And all throughout the weekend, I've noticed that many drivers and personnel from rival teams came over to congratulate you, especially yesterday, during the celebrations. Could you speak about the role of… camaraderie and sportsmanship in your approach to motorsports?”

“Absolutely,” I affirmed with a genuine smile. “Those values are essential aspects of motorsports for me. Racing is not just about individual performance—it's being part of a larger community. Every driver—rather, every person on the paddock shares a common passion, and that creates a unique bond. I believe that mutual respect and support make the racing experience richer and more fulfilling. When rivals come over to offer their congratulations, it shows that we're all part of a shared journey. And that helps put things in perspective.” I paused, my gaze returning to the journalist's attentive expression. “I grew up with a lot of good examples of great sportsmen, from different ages and backgrounds. They inspire me to be the athlete I am. And I learn from them. I know and I’ve seen that being in sync with my team and everyone around me is paramount. And about the team… we're like a well-oiled machine, working together to achieve a common goal. The team’s trust in me and my trust in them is the key to achieving an environment where we can perform at our best.”

“What happens now?” Anderson leaned back on his chair, crossing his right leg over the other. “What are the plans for the future? Do you think this race opened a couple more doors your way?”

It’s PR, I remembered myself.

“Right now, I'm still taking in the incredible experience of this race and savouring the team's success,” I began, my voice carrying a blend of satisfaction and excitement. “Looking ahead, the future holds exciting possibilities, that’s for sure. But we still have a few races this year, so we'll continue to analyze our performance, identify areas for improvement, and build on the momentum we've gained. And as for my personal journey… I believe this race has indeed opened a couple more doors for me. It's a validation of the hard work and dedication I've poured into my career. It’s not been easy, and the road has been long and hard, so it’s positive to see how it’s unfolding. I'm truly ready to embrace whatever challenges and opportunities come my way. Whether it's stepping up to compete more regularly, collaborating with other teams, or pursuing new ventures—I can say I'm determined to make the most of the doors that may or may not open and strive for even greater achievements in the future. Whatever they are.”

“I remember seeing you in FRECA, and it was a shame you didn't have a chance to end your amazing 2019 campaign.” My teeth sunk into my bottom lip. I was not expecting to go so deep into the past. “Did the unexpected end to the season, with you not taking part in the last races of the season, have anything to do with the break you took in 2020 and the new route you took last year?”

“Yes, well—” I moved in my chair. “The end of the 2019 season didn't go as planned, and it did play a role in the decisions I made afterwards. However, the break I took in 2020 was primarily a result of some personal issues and the need to focus on my overall well-being. With the pandemic, that forced me to slow down, I realized that I needed to take a step back, regroup, and come back stronger.”

As I spoke, the memories of that challenging period flickered in my mind—the uncertainties, the doubts, and the eventual realization that prioritizing my mental and emotional health was essential. 2019 was supposed to be my big year, the breakout. Yet, it was an utter nightmare. Losing a seat over team politics and small-minded men, especially when I was a championship contender, felt worse than anything I’ve ever experienced.

“Can you elaborate a bit more on those personal issues?” Anderson tilted his head.

“I understand the curiosity, but I'd prefer to keep the specifics to myself.” Once again, the reported nodded.

"It's known you took a different route and you've not been driving full-time since then. Do you see racing as a hobby? It’s a very expensive one to have.” He chuckled. I moved in my seat.

Well, you would never say that to a man, I thought to myself.

“It’s certainly far more than a hobby for me. While it's true that my journey has taken a unique path in recent years, it's important to note that every step I've taken has been with a specific purpose.” I paused, not sure if I was truly conveying the message I aimed for.

2020 had been tough. Mom and Dad quarantining in Verona, with my grandparents. Rio focused on his heavily pregnant wife and, later, their newborn twins. Carlos was… doing his thing. And I was at home, being consumed by a monster that fed on my own sadness and self-doubt. I didn’t want to project that image. The world couldn’t know that person.

“As you know, the commitment, dedication, and effort required in motorsports are immense and it's not a pursuit I take lightly.” I continued. “As with any other driver, there are challenges outside racing. Some can handle them better than others. I felt the need to stop for a while and take it easy on myself. That doesn’t make me less of a driver.”

“Is this hybrid mode, if I can call it that, helping with those issues?”

“It helped, until now. A lot of other drivers have a business on the side, that’s just a small percentage of what I do. Did.” I corrected myself. “I intend to be 100% focused on racing next year.”

“What made you take that decision?”

“The timing feels right, both personally and professionally.”

“You’re on a high, that’s for sure,” Anderson said, his hand meddling with his pen. “Considering those challenges you've mentioned, how do you feel your experiences outside the track have influenced your approach to racing now?”

"A lot has been happening these last two years. To be honest, I’m still in the process of looking back, reflecting on my journey and reevaluating my goals. Especially these last weeks… I’ve reencountered some people from the past and it helped me to look behind… It helped me gain a deeper understanding of myself, my strengths, and the areas I wanted to work on. As a result, I'm feeling more like myself. Every good or bad thing that happens is a part of us. And it’s not a setback, it’s just a… detour. A part of the comeback, too.” Anderson smiled at my worlds, I smiled too. “This weekend showed me exactly that—that I’m still the girl I was a few years ago. All the setbacks I’ve found… All my experiences, really, have taught me the importance of balance, resilience, and essentially mental well-being, which I believe are essential not only for success on the track but also for overall fulfilment.”

“And as for the future? Could you tell us a bit more about the specific goals you're aiming to achieve with DAR Racing and in your motorsport career moving forward?”

“And as to the future…” I paused. “My focus is on continuous improvement and pushing my limits. And working on myself. I'm fortunate to be part of a team that believes in my potential and supports my growth. Right now, my goal is to contribute to the team's success, while also aiming to achieve personal milestones, of course. It’s all very in the open, to be honest. As I said, I'm dedicated to making the most of every opportunity and showcasing my abilities. Ultimately? I aspire to compete at the highest level, as any other athlete."

"Highest level?” His eyebrow pointed up. “What do you exactly mean?”

"Competing against the best. Motorsport offers various tiers of competition, and my ultimate goal is to eventually reach the pinnacle of motorsport, whether it's in Formula 1, endurance racing, or any other top-tier championship.” Anderson seemed surprised. I cracked a laugh and he followed. “Doesn’t hurt to dream, does it? I’m aware this journey requires consistent dedication, hard work, and especially the right opportunities. I’m just leaving it in the open." I shrugged.

"So, the single-seaters aren’t out of the question?"

"Absolutely not! Formula 1 remains a dream—more than that, a goal. While my current focus is on endurance racing, I wouldn't rule out the possibility of pursuing a career in single-seaters if the right opportunity arises.”

“That’s bold.”

“Can’t settle for less.”

Anderson laughed and extended his hand in my direction. “That’s the spirit.”

Amanda rented a small Airbnb in Berlin, paid for the company, of course, and located less than 5 minutes away from her client’s new store. The floor of the entrance hall was all boxes and shopping bags, greeting me as I arrived. On the corner, there was a small space for my shoes, the only free space, actually, which meant that I had to grab my suitcase and hover it over the boxes, to make my way to my room.

She had texted me just as I landed, telling me she would be at the store all morning and that I could use some time to sleep and rest and join her at the store in the afternoon. And despite being massively jet-lagged, I couldn’t phantom the idea of going to bed at noon. My body was completely disoriented after a twenty-hour flight that had departed from Japan on Monday night and landed in Berlin on Tuesday morning.

The concept of time didn’t make sense at all.

During the flight, I immersed myself in a sea of and stories about myself. The spotlight was glaring down on me, the expectations and anticipation weighing down my shoulders. “WHAT COMES NEXT?” plastered across every other tweet or headline. And, of course, I asked myself the same question.

Little did I realize that my little pastime was nurturing the little monster hidden in a corner of my mind, that I so desperately tried to ignore by eating cookies and Doritos and drinking whatever beverage they had available on the flight.

I’d said more than I should in the interview with Anderson, I realized.

In every other tweet, my name was linked to Carlos, to his dad and to a potential seat in F3 that I knew nothing about. On every social media post, a lot more comments than usual, especially after Marjorie’s Mallorca dump, where I was pictured with Carlos behind me, on the boat, his hand over my shoulder—what quickly became “proof” to our connection.

Too much happening in such little time.

And time didn’t make sense.

And my body ached.

And Even Amanda, whom I thought would be focused at work, was swept up in the buzz of the moment. There was a bottle of Ferrari champagne on the dinning table. “We will open it at dinner”, a small note said.

I couldn’t make tea because I couldn’t find the teapot, and heating up water in the microwave was just too low. I was tired. I needed coffee or tea, or just anything with a strong flavour and enough caffeine, and then I remembered there was a small coffee shop downstairs.

But I was just so tired, and so in need of a break, that my feet took me to the empty room at the end of the hallway and I collapsed in bed. Not to sleep. But just to take a break. To exist and listen to the silence, and to life happening outside, in some random street of Berlin.

The grip of jet lag tightened as Berlin’s heat added to my discomfort.

I rolled in bed.

And then I remembered that for the first time in more than a week, Carlos and I were in the same time zone. And life seemed a bit better. I stretched my hand to the phone. There was a message from him hanging in my inbox. “Call me when you land.”

“Oh, you were quick to pick up,” I said, my voice laced with traces of tiredness.

He chuckled on the other side of the line. “Yeah, it seems I can’t go too long without hearing from you. Is the flat nice?”

“It's cozy. Going to be an interesting experience sharing the place with Amanda for a few days. I had to perform some serious parkour moves just to get through the entrance because the hallway is packed with boxes. She’s not exactly the tidiest person.”

Carlos laughed softly. “As if you could talk.”

I playfully sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Virgo, if I don’t live up to your standards.”

He chuckled again, the sound soothing and familiar. "Well, just make sure you don't trip over any of those boxes. I need you whole when you get back."

"I'll do my best," I replied, a grin sneaking onto my face despite the fatigue that still clung to me. "How's your day been so far?"

We fell into an easy conversation, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. His words were like a balm, easing away the remnants of jet lag and anxiety and replacing them with a sense of connection that stretched across the miles. He was still in Italy, getting ready to fly for Zandvoort. It would be a packed week, apparently. Starting on Wednesday, all the way to Sunday. And then repeat all of that for Monza, the next week. At a certain point, he started complaining about Rio and his insistence on taking Team 55 to dinner to celebrate Carlos’ birthday, and then spending midnight together, have a drink and toast to another year.

I would be at said dinner, but that surprise was something Carlos didn't need to know just yet.

Between stories of Amsterdam and Zandvoort and how Spa had gone for him, we finally reached the topic. Japan. The podium.

“About that,” Carlos's voice echoed warmly through the phone's speaker. I settled deeper into the comfy pillows, his words soothing away the fatigue that had clung to me since landing. "You won't believe it, but he couldn’t shut up about you. I've never seen Rio so damn proud as he was on Sunday," he confessed.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. "That's a first," I replied, my voice laced with amusement. "I think he'd sooner admit to believing in unicorns than admit to praising me.”

Carlos chuckled softly, and I could almost picture the affectionate smile on his face. “I barely saw him at the garage. He was around… networking, as he put it. Even took some notes from Caco.”

“He better take lessons from the master. Guess I'll have to rely on him since I don't have Dad to do it for me anymore.” Carlos cleared his throat, and it sounded like a gentle reprimand. “What was that for?”

“You would do it even if you were alone.”

“I don’t have the people skills for that.”

“You do,” he quickly interjected. His words hung in the air, and I scrunched my nose, the silence between us perhaps conveying more than words ever could. “Are you having doubts?”

I pondered for a moment, my body shifting in bed as if searching for a more comfortable posture to handle the subject. “Hm. It’s too late for that,” I began. “I mean, it's all done now, you know? I've adjudicated all my clients to other colleagues. My agenda is clean. I've sent my resignation letter. I’m just tying up some loose ends now.”

“That’s good,” Carlos said, and then a heavy silence enveloped us once more. It felt like a looming shadow, draping itself over me, heavy and dark. “Isn’t it?”

“It is. It just…” I hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Yes?”

“I’m… apprehensive.”

“Okay…” I heard him take a deep breath, and I closed my eyes, yearning for his comforting presence. “Why? What’s going on inside?”

A warmth spread through me, knowing that he cared enough to ask these questions. “Do we really need to have this talk?”

“Yes.” His response was firm, yet there was an undeniable gentleness in his voice. I felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of vulnerability and relief. God. How much I needed him right there at that moment. “I don’t want you to carry the weight of this change alone.”

Something shifted inside me, a sense of support that I hadn’t fully acknowledged before. I let out a sigh, feeling a strange weight lifting off my shoulders. The liberty to be human, and act like myself. To have fears, and doubts and to have the liberty to be vulnerable and share them.

“It’s been a lot, you know?” My voice cracked as my throat seemed to become small. I paused for a second, just to hear him hum on the other side, encouraging me to continue. “I can’t visualize it. I can’t see myself there, because I don’t feel like there is. I feel lost. And tired. People expect me to know what I want. To know the way. To be fierce and decisive, but I'm not that person. At least not now. I'm seeing her again, but I'm still... lost. I have this… thing. An anxiety that lives here, that I can’t put on hold.”

“Eva—”

“No, let me finish. I have more than enough reasons to know I’m kind of good, to know I’m good. But there’s something screaming that I’m not great. That I’m not enough. That I should have never stopped, that I should have started racing sooner… I mean, take my interview with Andeson.” I paused. “I said too much, people are talking and going deeper into my life, and stalking my socials and making theories about everything. I have people liking photos from 2015, for heaven's sake. And I’m refusing to go on Twitter because I don’t want to read what they’re saying.”

Carlos chuckled, his voice soothing. “That's how it goes, love. It shouldn't be that way, but it's unfortunately part of the package. Remember that’s not what matters.”

“What happens on the track is what matters,” I asserted.

“Exactly,” Carlos took a deep breath before continuing. "I know you like being in your bubble, Eva. I do too. But unfortunately, I'll have to share you with the world if we want a chance to keep your name in their mouths. And we need that chance because you deserve a great seat for next year."

I sighed, understanding the weight of his words. "Share me, huh?"

He let out a playful sigh. "Let me be a bit selfish here. I just got you back, and now I'll have to share you with the world? Unfair."

"Is it really that hard to bear?"

Carlos replied in a teasing tone, "You have no idea. Sharing you with the world? Torture."

I chuckled, his playful tone bringing a sense of lightness to our conversation. "Well, I'll try to make it as painless as possible for you. Besides, you'll always have a special VIP pass to my bubble."

He chuckled, his voice warm and affectionate. "I'll hold you to that. Now…” he hesitated. "I have to leave in… 20-ish minutes. Nap time for you?"

I sighed dramatically. "Yeah, I guess I can squeeze in a bit of sleep."

"Good,” He paused. “You need rest"

"And you're not mad about me missing the GP?"

There was a short pause before he answered, his voice sincere. "I won't lie and say I'm thrilled, but I understand. Work's work, love. And I’ll have you in Monza. We'll have our celebration whenever is possible."

I smiled, warmth flooding through me. "Thank you for understanding, even when I'm disappointing your birthday plans."

He chuckled. "It’s okay, bebé. I'll survive the birthday blues. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. And get enough rest."

"I promise," I said softly, gratitude filling my voice.

“I’ll call you tonight.”

“Counting on it.”

I nestled back into the pillows, my mind finally quieting down as I let sleep claim me once more. Our conversation replayed in my thoughts, a reminder that no matter the miles between us or the challenges we faced, our bond remained.

“Carlos’ birthday is tomorrow,” I said. On the other side of the line, Marjorie's affirming hum tickled my ear. “What do you give a man that has everything?”

Marjorie's voice crackled through, a touch raspy and warm. “Really good head.”

I haltered, trying to muffle a chuckle and glanced discreetly at the man on the opposite side of the counter. I couldn't help but wonder if he overheard her audacious suggestion; it was practically impossible, but his stern expression made me second-guess.

“Let’s keep it a little more PG, shall we?” I whispered, my words barely escaping my lips. “I was thinking more along the lines of a watch. You know, like a normal person.”

She giggled, unapologetic. “Yeah, your denial game is strong.”

“You wouldn’t buy it even if I tried.” I think I sounded more annoyed than I expected, and Marjorie’s quick reply and tone did indeed confirm it.

“True. So, why deny it anyway?”

I shifted my gaze to the abstract painting on the wall, and then to the display filled with bracelets and watches. The light refracted on the screens, glistening and tempting me to pick one of them up. I approached one of the displays. One of the Rolex watches seemed to smile at me.

“It’s complicated,” I murmured.

“That’s your favourite word.” She paused, the silence a bit dull, but I wasn’t sure of what to say. “But you don’t need to say a thing, you know? It’s pretty darn obvious what’s going on between you two. Seriously, even standing five meters away, it’s nauseating.”

“Marge, don’t—”

“Eva, I get it. You want to take things slow, bla bla bla, I know your speech, already. It’s the same for every boy. Nut come on! It’s Carlos! I know you always liked him. And even if he was a stranger… I mean he’s still Carlos Sainz.” She sighed.

“You won’t shut up, will you?”

“Never.” She paused for a second, and when I thought I could speak, she started again. "We all were in Mallorca, and I've seen enough walks of shame to spot one. And it was almost suffocating near you during Blanca’s dinner. The tension was absurd.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. At least stop being weird about it.”

“I’m not weird about anything. I called you just want your help to choose a gift for his birthday and you didn’t even let me talk yet. Are you and Rio giving him something?”

“Yes. Your brother is giving him something, not sure what, honestly.”

“You’re really trusting him with that?”

“It’s his best friend. If he fucks up, it's his responsibility.” She quipped and then cracked a laugh. I chuckled silently, my eyes drifting through the small collection.

“Going back to my gift…” I brought the conversation back on track.

“Yes…”

“I left the store to go pick up some food for lunch and I found a cute little shop on the way,” I started. It was much more than "cute"—it was truly a hidden gem in the heart of Berlin. “I was thinking of something vintage, you know? A watch… with a leather bracelet, maybe. And I don’t have much time to waste because I’m leaving today to Zandvoort and I can’t get there with anything.”

“He has a collection of watches, Eva.”

“He has literally a collection of everything,” I sighed. “Hence the challenge. I want to stand out.”

“Well, I told you one way to stand out.”

"I'm trying to be a little more sophisticated here," I retorted.

"Oh, do you need suggestions for a no-smudge red lipstick?" Marjorie countered, her suggestion dripping with mischievous wit. “I can help with that.”

“Fuck off.”

“Babe, you showing up there will be nicer than any watch.”

I hummed, my feet tracing the store floors, walking the steps I’d already walked twice or thrice that evening. before calling Marjorie, I’d spent ten minutes in there, staring at the watches, and despite loving the atmosphere and the feeling of all my senses being captivated by the allure of history, I was in need of going back outside and getting some food.

Every piece was a good pick.

Each one with a story of its own, sparkling under the soft glow of the display lights, their gears whispering secrets of forgotten eras, waiting to be unveiled by its new owner.

I picked up a beautiful antique Rolex with a leather strap, the rich aroma of aged leather mingling with the fragrance of nostalgia that permeated the air. It exuded an air of sophistication, and I could already picture him wearing it under the brim of his race suit.

“I’m sending you a pic on WhatsApp.”

And after I did, Marjorie's voice came through the phone, breaking my reverie. "That one is lovely.”

“But it’s so… normal.” I sighed, feeling torn between the classic elegance of the leather bracelet and the desire to find something truly unique for Carlos.

"It’s a Rolex.” She deadpanned. “I swear to God, it’s been years since I married into this family and I still can’t relate to you all. But yeah, somehow I get what you mean. But it's Carlos. He doesn't care about extravagant."

“But I do.”

“Miss,” the shop owner's voice interrupted our conversation, and I turned to face him with a polite smile. "I'm really sorry to disturb you, but we’re about to close.”

I nodded apologetically at the shop owner, realizing that I had been so engrossed in my conversation with Marjorie that I hadn't noticed the time. "Of course, I'm sorry. I got carried away… Marge,” I talked into the phone. “I’ll call you later, ok?"

"No need to apologize," he said kindly, gesturing towards the watch in my hand. "You seem to have a good eye for these kind of pieces. Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

"Well," I hesitated, glancing back at the watch and the man before it put it down in its place. "I'm trying to find a birthday gift.?"

The old man smiled understandingly, his eyes glistening under his round glasses. "Well,” he looked at his watch. “I can spare a few more minutes to help you, miss. Is it for a friend? A family member?"

"A friend. He travels a lot, he’s a racing driver… So I was thinking of something like a watch or a bracelet, something practical that he can carry around or just… something to have at home…? I mean…” I paused, my eyes wandering through the counter, my iris meeting the shiny screens of the watch under the store lights. “He has tons of watches, and now that I’m thinking about it, he’s not a guy to wear bracelets. It’s… a challenge.”

The old man's face lit up, a raspy smoker's chuckle leaving his wrinkly lips. "Ja, I know how difficult it can be. What does that friend value? What does he like?" The man leaned against the counter, his wrinkly hand holding onto the sturdy wood, while the other one traveled to the pocket of his cardigan.

"Meaning, I think," I replied, my fingers tracing the edge of the polished wooden counter. "He has basically everything already, so it's difficult to find something. Not that he's hard to please. Not at all. I'm just very picky, even when it comes to gifts for other people."

"Meaning," the old man mused, his eyes scanning the shop's interior. "You mentioned he's a driver, right?" I nodded in confirmation. "How about something that combines his love for racing with a touch of nostalgia?"

I furrowed my brows, intrigued by his suggestion. "What do you suggest?"

The old man's eyes gleamed with excitement as he led me toward a large leather album, slightly bigger than A3 paper, resting on a wooden display stand. "I was a big motorsport fan back in the day," he began, his voice carrying the weight of cherished memories. "I even traveled to America to watch some good old NASCAR races. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to meet many drivers and collected a few things people find valuable now."

With his permission, I opened the album to reveal a treasure trove of race posters, each one meticulously preserved and adorned with signatures from drivers and team owners. The pages were filled with a rich tapestry of racing history from various series.

"Oh, are these race posters?" I asked in awe.

The old man nodded proudly. "They are all signed, by drivers and team owners, from a variety of racing series. Perhaps a poster from Le Mans from his birth year? Or... what does he drive? What does he enjoy?"

"Formula 1," I replied. And then I looked up to him. "Maybe a poster from the Spanish Grand Prix of '94, if it's available?"

The old man's eyes sparkled with recognition. "Ah, the Spanish Grand Prix of '94. That was a memorable one. I think it’s in there somewhere."

As I stepped out of the shop, the poster and a frame we picked after were inside a carton box, with a lot of tape around it. It would survive the flight, I hoped. I couldn't help but notice how picturesque Berlin looked that afternoon. The sun cast a warm golden hue on the architecture, turning even the most ordinary scenes into works of art. I adjusted my sunglasses, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling city. Cobblestone streets wound through neighbourhoods that seemed to have their own stories to tell.

With each step, I felt a little more grounded, the rhythm of my strides syncing with the beat of the city. People passed by, their conversations forming a melodic backdrop. Laughter spilt out from sidewalk cafes, and the aroma of various cuisines filled the air.

Eva: “weird to think that i once thought germans were the prettiest europeans”

Marjorie: “a loooot of layers to debunk there”

Eva: “they were mostly football players and sebastian vettel. not that many layers.”

Marjorie: “vettel? wow, that’s soooo surprising” Marjorie: ”no one would EVER guess your taste in men”

Eva: “yeah? what’s my taste in men then?”

Marjorie: “former red bull athletes that raced/race for ferrari?” Marjorie: ”duh”

Eva: “you’re so annoying”

Marjorie: “did you get the gift?”

Eva: “yes”

Marjorie: “what did you get?”

Eva: “ill show you later”

Marjorie: “ok, now you can stop overthinking and focus on the handsome spaniard waiting for you and the amazing birthday sex he's in for”

Eva: "omg” Eva: "can’t believe you’re a MOM”

Helping Amanda at the store helped me more than I wanted to admit. I liked being busy. I needed to be busy. Spreadsheets and checklists were the perfect escape from the stress accumulating in my mind. I needed that, the sense of being in control. And if I felt like I was not totally controlling my career, still being discussed online, at least I could be in control of numbers and store openings.

"Last project as a team?" Amanda's voice reached me, her back turned as she meticulously arranged fake flowers in a jar. "I finally saw your interview last night. Full dedication to racing, starting next year."

I leaned against an unopened box, half my size, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the cardboard's surface. "Yeah, I've mentioned this to you before.” I took a break, using the seconds to take a breath. “I mean, I gave you like 70% of my clients."

She finally turned around, a plastic sunflower hanging from her fingers. "Yeah. I know. But I gotta admit, I half-expected you to stick around. Keep a client or two... Just in case."

A bead of sweat trickled down my back, my palms slightly sweaty as I wiped them against the cool fabric of my shorts.

"To be honest," I began, my gaze meeting hers. "No, I'm not entirely sure. But I don't think I ever will be. It just feels like something I need to do, you know? Stop doubting and take the leap."

She continued to observe me, her expression thoughtful. "And if it goes wrong?"

"Then I start over, just like I did a few years ago.” I settled onto an ottoman chair, taking a deep breath and picking my bottle of water from the side table. “Difference is: I have my own resources now. I have money. My money. I can travel, I can afford to try. I won't be relying on anyone else, this time."

"At all?" Her question carried a weight that made me frown. "I've seen the news. I've seen Twitter."

I rolled my eyes. "Ah, Twitter."

Her gaze remained steady on mine, unwavering. "So, are you two together or not?"

I sighed, a mixture of frustration and exasperation bubbling up. "Amanda, for once, I want to be my own person. To pursue my own dreams on my own terms." Stepping forward, I brushed my hands on my shorts, attempting to get rid of the sweat. "He's my friend, a really good one. But we’re talking work, not personal life."

She persisted, her tone unwavering. "Let's delve into the personal, then."

Turning away, I picked up a couple of the already empty cardboard boxes. "Honestly, I'd prefer if we didn't," I mumbled, carrying them towards the trash.

After ensuring Amanda wouldn't spontaneously combust from store-opening nerves, and after hearing her apologies for the intrusion, I bid farewell to Berlin. Every checklist and spreadsheet was printed and laminated, ready to be used for the inauguration. The gift boxes for the guests were carefully arranged on the counter and all the frames and backdrops for photos were set.

The airport buzzed with its customary end-of-August throng, yet, the line at security wasn’t so long.

As I dumped my belongings into the tray, the soft clinking of metal snagged my focus. My gaze drifted down, catching the glint of a tiny golden steering wheel illuminated by the airport's harsh lights.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips, swallowed by the surrounding crowd.

I’d been carrying it around since I’d left the track, half-drunk and drenched in champagne. I recalled being wearied by the day's events, too tipsy to recall the basics of Japanese and to walk in a straight line. I also remembered stumbling upon a souvenir stand near the track, my eyes fixating on those sparkling keychains. They had looked so delicate and golden, so artfully crafted that one might mistake them for actual gold if not for the 3000 yen price tag dangling from them—just shy of 20€.

Purchasing it had stirred up memories of our old tradition, those times when we'd strive to find the quirkiest gifts for each other. Snowglobes, magnets, postcards—each trinket carrying memories of the places we'd visited without each other.

"have fun at your dinner, soon to be birthday boy," I sent him a text as I settled into one of the seats by my gate.

Upon landing, a mirror selfie greeted me. There he was—a playful rogue, fresh out of the shower and sporting nothing but a strategically draped towel around his waist. A pout adorned his lips.

And as the caption: “i’ll try, but i’m feeling pretty lonely out here”

A one-shoulder black top draped over my frame, the asymmetrical neckline cutting the line of my chest. The wide linen pants I wore flowed gracefully with each of my steps, their relaxed fit exuding a laid-back vibe. My pants were cinched at the waist with a black leather belt, adding a subtle touch of edginess to the outfit. I reapplied my make-up in the Uber, after dropping my suitcases and the frame at the hotel lobby. Rio had arranged everything—a schedule so meticulously programmed that I couldn’t believe it was programmed by him.

I soon found myself standing outside the restaurant, my phone in hand as I dialled his number. Amsterdam was bursting with fans and tourists, nothing out of the ordinary for a night at the end of August, nearing the Grand Prix. Lost while observing the small crowds tracing the streets, I only noticed my brother’s familiar grin when he was close enough to trap me in a hug.

"Eva!" he held all the pride of the world in that hug.

"Hi," I laughed lightly. "Hey! I kinda need to breathe, you know?"

He released me with a sheepish grin, eyes sparkling with affection. He kissed my cheek before taking a step back. "Sorry, I’ve been saving this hug for a while now. And wow… The lipstick. Suits you.”

I put my hand on his chest, over the buttons of his dark green polo. “You're not looking too shabby yourself.”

His laughter echoed, genuine and carefree, as he linked his arm with mine. “Well, I do try to keep up appearances once or twice a year.”

“For birthdays and Christmas?”

“Yeah. Something like it.”

We strolled into the restaurant together. The anticipation of the evening hung in the air, tugging in my belly. God, what’s this feeling?

“What did you tell them?”

“Oh, you know—” Rio scratched the back of his neck. “Something about needing to take a call?”

I burst into laughter. "You literally managed to secretly arrange a flight and extra hotel room but couldn't come up with a more believable excuse for this?"

Rio joined in my laughter. "Hey, it worked! No one asked too many questions."

"Fair enough. Where’s the table?”

“At the back,” he pointed at an arch in the brick wall of the restaurant. “Have you spoken to Dad?”

“Not tonight, Rio,” I replied, pausing for a moment and turning slightly to face him. “Can we talk about all that tomorrow? It’s been a lot. I just want to eat something decent, rather, drink something decent and have a good time.”

He kissed my cheek. “Sure. I’m proud of you. Just remember that.”

Carlos was seated facing the archway, and my gaze was drawn to him the instant Rio and I stepped through it. It took Carlos a brief moment longer to register our presence. He was engrossed in conversation, his brows knit together as he spoke animatedly, his hands dancing with fervour as he talked. The room seemed to grow silent as my eyes focused on him. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, his gaze met mine.

And the world went completely silent.

His lips curved into a smile that transformed his features, smoothing away any tension. He seemed to be filled with light and I felt so weightless, I felt I could have floated through the air like a feather—it wasn't the sensation of falling for him; or falling for each other, but rather the exhilarating feeling of ascending together, drawn irresistibly toward each other's orbit.

And I felt at ease.

Rio playfully tugged at my arm, drawing me further into the restaurant. "He's so ridiculously in love," he teased with a knowing grin, watching his best friend, already getting up from his chair.

A wistful smile touched my lips, my heart echoing with silent questions. The words hung unspoken in the air, a gentle whisper carried by the currents of emotion that flowed between us.

It was warm and cold at the same time. Too much happening and nothing at all.

“Fuck off,” I whispered. My brother just laughed.

My steps quickened with each heartbeat, a subtle urgency pushing me forward, almost outpacing my brother’s pace. I had to consciously force myself to walk slowly and not betray my haste to reach the table. All the way, my eyes didn’t leave Carlos, already on his feet, his hand resting casually on the back of his char. Effortless attire—whitewashed jeans and a simple T-shirt. His hair was a charming mess, tempting me to run my fingers through the tousled strands.

Around the table, faces were beginning to light up with recognition and surprise, the gathering of friends and acquaintances slowly rising to greet us. I waved at them, “Hi! Good night,” and a soft giggle bubbled from my lips as I caught the shared amusement on Carlos' friends' faces.

“Hey,” Carlos said.

As he leaned in to press a warm kiss to my cheek, the familiarity of his touch ignited a sense of comfort. He smelled nice. His hands found their way around me, wrapping me in a hug that felt both familiar and intoxicatingly new. I reciprocated the embrace, savouring the closeness while maintaining an air of casualness as if this were an ordinary occurrence.

“You’re here.” He whispered, the small sound cutting through the noise echoing in the room.

“I am,” I murmured softly, my voice carrying a warmth that was reserved for him alone. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Carlos chuckled, his breath tickling my ear as he pulled away. "What are you doing here? You must be exhausted."

"Just a little jet-lagged," I admitted with a sheepish smile, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten in his presence. “Nothing a good night of sleep and some Red Bull tomorrow won’t solve.”

"Red Bull, huh? Giving the opponents some business, are we?" Caco playfully remarked, dragging his chair to the side, to create space to add another seat to the table.

I chuckled, playing along. "Well, a little cross-team support never hurt anyone, right?"

"Alright, everyone," Rio's voice cut through our moment; by his side, two waitresses, one of them carrying a chair and the other one a set of plates and a glass. "We need another seat here, please." He motioned to the place between his and Carlos’ seats. “And bring back the menu, please, so she can pick something to eat.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, short moments after, taking my seat. “And I’ll just have some carbonara. No need for the menu.”

“Welcome back, Eva,” Caco said, before picking up the bottle of wine and filling my glass. “We missed you around here.”

The night was alive with energy, laughter, and the warmth of connection.

It felt nice to be back in the midst of a Team 55 dinner, just like it used to happen years ago when Carlos still wore yellow or orange and we were too blind to actually read through the lines. The familiarity of faces, the shared jokes and the easy camaraderie were a comforting reminder of the bonds that had formed over time, and that he was in good hands those last years.

It had been three years since the last Grand Prix I attended by Carlos' side. He was a man, now. A Grand Prix race winner. A Ferrari driver. He wore red, burning red. The Italian anthem had played for him. Not many had that honour.

The low hum of conversation blended seamlessly with the clinking of glasses and the occasional bursts of laughter. I let myself observe the group, the connection between them all, the aura around the table. It was like stepping into the past and finding home, once again.

As the clock neared midnight, Rio leaned in with a sly smile. "I think it's time for some champagne, don't you think?"

“Oh, no, I—We have work tomorrow,” Carlos’ voice was interrupted by a chorus of boos that echoed around the table. From the archway, a waitress appeared with a tray of mini burgers adorned with candles in her hands. “Oh, you didn’t!”

His laughter blended perfectly with the melody of “Happy Birthday” being echoed from everyone in the room, not only from our table but from the other ones, too. I focused my eyes on him, only to find out he was already looking at me, grin wide and eyes glistening.

“Mate, you’re getting old!” Rupert exclaimed before hugging him. “Speech!!" He called out, his strong British accent ringing through the cheers and applause, raising his glass and prompting others to follow suit.

“No, no!” Carlos shook his head, a playful protest on his lips, as the chant grew in volume. "Oh, come on, guys."

“Stop being a chicken, mate. Come on,” my brother whispered.

With a good-natured sigh, Carlos finally stood up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He surveyed the faces around the table, and then around the room, his gaze lingering on each person before settling on me, his eyes warm and sincere.

"Alright, alright," he began, moving his hands in an attempt to hush the commotion around him. "Well, uh… Another one, right? 28!” The room grew quiet, the attention of every person fixed on Carlos as he spoke from the heart. One of the waiters passed him a flute filled with champagne. He took it in his hands and nodded, before whispering a thank you. "Birthdays have always been a time of reflection for me. A time to look back on the journey, the ups and downs and whatnot, and, of course, the people who have been by my side through it all. These guys right here.” He pointed to the table with the flute. “And I can honestly say that I am so incredibly lucky to have each and every one of you with me." He raised his glass and everyone mirrored his gesture, a sense of camaraderie filling the air. "To the team, to friendship, and to the memories we've created and the ones we're yet to make."

As the glasses clinked together in a toast, the atmosphere was charged with emotion and shared celebration. Carlos took a moment to catch my gaze, a twinkle in his eyes as he added, "And to Eva, who has been a constant source of support and inspiration. Here's to you, to your podium at WEC, and to many more victories."

I felt my cheeks burning and I tried to conceal my smile by having a sip of the champagne.

“To Eva!” My brother exclaimed, his glass raised in the air, prompting the others to follow.

“To Eva!” The room chanted, as Carlos approached me and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered.

“I hate you,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

The combination of jetlag, wine, champagne and the events of the night had left me feeling simultaneously exhilarated and tired. As we walked back, the city lights casting a soft glow around us, I leaned into Carlos, my head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me.

“Tired?” he inquired, his voice a gentle caress against the night breeze.

I nodded against his shoulder, my gaze trailing to the figures of our friends walking ahead of us. “And a bit tipsy, I think. The day just went by so quickly.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, his fingers brushing against my arm in a soothing gesture. With a warmth that seeped into my skin, he said, “We’re almost there. 10 minutes and you'll be in bed.”

“No rush, really. I still need to give you your gift and get ready for bed. Lot more than 10 minutes.”

“Okay, then…” He pondered. I looked up, noticing the way his brow furrowed playfully. A small chuckle left my lips. “Let’s say… 40, then.”

“Ugh,” I unfed, wrapping my arm around his waist, under his leather jacket. “That’s a lot of time for someone who slept like… 5 hours today.”

“You needed to rest,” his voice had that tone of concern I was not yet quite used to hearing. “Rest. Not add another fight to the list.”

“And I will rest this weekend. Just hope your driver’s room has a good couch.”

His laughter resonated in the air, the sound a welcome companion in the quiet of the night. “The best in the Ferrari hospitality.”

“I’m in good hands, then.”

We walked in silence for a little while, casually observing the surroundings. Everyone was just too busy living their lives to notice or to care he was there. It was a 5-minute walk from the restaurant to the hotel, our friends had already disappeared from view when we entered through a side door, free from the small crowd that could potentially be waiting at the main entrance.

“How was Japan?” He asked when we were racing the elevators.

I smiled, my head turning from the closed doors to his face. “Wild.” The memories of the race weekend flooded my thoughts. A chuckle escaped me as I recalled some of them. “Insane, really… I mean... The Challenge was great, and everything. But this was serious, you know? Like… WEC is serious. People saw me there. Saw what I did, you know?” He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “And this might sound super cocky, but… it was amazing.”

“Oh, you bet the world saw you. Your name rang in the paddock the whole day. And that interview you did with Anderson?”

“What about it?”

“I’m just jealous. I never looked that good on camera,” he teased, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. I laughed and followed the ping of the elevator, that now opened its doors to us. With his back turned to me, while he pressed one of the buttons, he questioned, “Am I one of those people?” Then, he turned back to me, a smug smile in his mouth. “The ones you mentioned. Do I inspire you?”

The corner of my lips lifted in a playful grin. “Do you really need to ask?" I watched as he shrugged, a nonchalant expression on his face. I rolled my eyes, “Well, you know… every time I see your face on TV, I think, ‘Wow, I have to learn something from that guy’.”

His laughter rang out, a sound that was as comforting as it was infectious. “That’s it? My handsome face is just a reminder to work harder?”

I matched his playful tone. “Well, either that or the fear of becoming the least interesting person on TV.” As he leaned against the wall, his body language inviting me closer, I complied without hesitation. I stepped into his space, still at a distance. ”I’ll let you pick whichever makes you feel better.”

He rolled his eyes before his gaze locked onto mine, a whole different haze around those orbs. The quiet hum of the elevator seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of us in our own world. His index finger hooked on the belt hoop of my pants, a subtle gesture that pulled me toward him. His voice, soft yet filled with longing, wrapped around me like a velvet ribbon.

“I miss you,” he confessed. “I was dying for a moment alone with you.”

“I’m all yours, now.”

His lopsided grin transformed into a mischievous smirk as he closed the distance between us. A pair of tender, delicate lips met mine, and I could feel the hint of his smile as I melted into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping my lips.

I lost myself in him, in the touch of his hands touching me everywhere, reclaiming my body and pressing me against him. The urgency grew. My fingers instinctively curled around the leather of his jacket, pulling him closer with a determined grip. His hands ventured to my lower back, drawing me nearer. We could have transcended into another dimension.

As the elevator doors finally opened on his floor, we reluctantly pulled away from each other, our lips lingering for a moment before breaking apart. The hunger in his gaze mirrored my own. With a silent understanding, we rushed through the hallway—stupid teenagers in a rom-com.

I felt the weight of the door click shut behind us as he pushed me against it, his lips already on my neck. Our perfumes mixed together, a scent already familiar, yet to which I had no resistance. I felt drunk on it. His hands left my waist to pull my top down and reveal my bare skin beneath. There was urgency in his touch, in his eyes, in the way he exhaled when he took a step back and took me in.

Under his eyes, goosebumps ran across my chest. Thingles shot up from my nipples.

Carlos ran his thumb over one of them, eyes studying the rose buds, his tongue peering between his lips. “No bra?” He teased, his eyes glinting.

“Though I might save us some time,” I whispered back.

“I like the way you think,” he replied with a low growl. The warmth of his breath touched my skin, making me shiver uncontrollably before his lips reached my breast.

To that, I would never get used. The velvet touch of his tongue, the particular way his lips seem to perfectly fit each crevice of my body. My hands came up to his hair, tangling myself in the silky locks as he suckled on my nipple, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak. I gasped, my head falling backwards.

Electricity shot through my body, pooling between my legs.

“I want to do something for you, today," I said.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, his eyes darkening with desire. "What?" The husky timbre of his voice sent a chill down my spine, as he undid the belt of my pants. From then, to the moment they fell on the floor, was a couple of seconds.

I descended from my heels and guided him to bed, where he sat at the edge. Then sat down, gently, on his lap, my legs spreading naturally. Slightly hesitating, he reached out, and glided his palm over my back and my ass, before tracing a path down the back of my thighs. With a more urgent touch, his fingertips burning in curiosity and anticipation, he continued until his hand reached the back of my knees and with a strong motion, pulled me nearer to him. Fuck. I quivered in his lap, a broken moan escaping my lips.

He smiled. "You like that?"

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt the heat in his eyes. Tentatively, I placed my hands on his shoulders and moved again, shamelessly grinding against his jeans. Again, a low, husky moan left my mouth and his fingers dug into my ass. He was completely dressed and I was soaking through my panties.

Cupping my face in his hands, he brought his mouth back to mine. Fierce and wet. Possessive and savage. I moaned against his mouth as his hands came up to my breasts, kneading them as I rode him harder. His touch was overwhelming, and I could feel myself getting close to the edge.

"No. Wait. I—” My hand rested on his chest. “You’re making me lose focus."

My chin was locked between his fingers, as he held my face close.

"Hm?" He groaned against my mouth. "On what, baby?"

"On you," I said, between breaths, my voice almost breaking. I forced myself to stop moving, even when I felt every inch of my body under a spell. My clit was throbbing, crying for attention. "Your shirt," I commanded, and in seconds, it was flying to the floor.

The cool floor stimulated my heated skin, as I knelt in front of him. My eyes couldn't leave his face—the strands falling over his forehead, his slightly flushed cheeks, his swollen lips. I reached out, my fingers deftly working on his belt buckle, my every movement deliberate and tantalizing. Dark orbs stared at me from behind sleep-tousled eyes, desire taking them whole. Unzipping him, I let the jeans fall to his feet before touching him over his white Calvin Kleins. I could feel my mouth watering at the imprint of his erection on the fabric.

Looking up again, there was a grin on his lips.

His thumb gently traced the contour of my bottom lip, urging it to part. Without hesitation, I complied, welcoming his finger into my mouth. My lips closed around it, gently sucking as my hands explored him through the fabric of his boxers. His response was immediate; he bit his lower lip, a guttural groan escaping as I slid the elastic waistband down, releasing him into the open.

Carlos pulled himself up in bed, pulling off his boxers on his way. His eyes wandered briefly to a spot just beyond me, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Panties off, baby," he commanded. With ease, he positioned himself at the centre of the bed, his legs parted invitingly.

Glancing swiftly behind me, my eyes landed on a mirror. Without hesitation, I followed his command, sliding my panties down, ensuring my reflection in the mirror granted him the view he deserved. Then, I gracefully crawled towards him, positioning myself between his legs with my knees slightly apart, my ass elevated in the air.

His cock rested against my lips. I moved in, sucking gently, as I looked up. He didn’t know where to look: his eyes flickered from the mirror down to my face to the mirror again. I moved my tongue up and down his shaft and then he finally looked away from the mirror and at me.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice low and throaty. I blinked up at him, confused by his words. "So beautiful," he repeated. "The way you're looking at me, the way you're sucking me off. It's fucking beautiful."

I blushed, feeling shy and exposed under his gaze. I loved the way he looked at me, with such certainty and admiration. I loved that he saw me as something beautiful. Something worth saving. I parted my lips and slid my mouth around his shaft then pulled back, taking him as slowly as I could. He tilted his head and cried out, the vibration of his voice sending a shock of heat into my core.

I smiled up at him as I shifted, angling him so he was hitting the back of my throat.

"You like this?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face. I nodded, my head moving faster. "You're going to make me come in your mouth, aren't you?" I nodded again, my eyes locked onto his. His voice was low and commanding, his grip tight in my hair. I moaned around him, pleasure radiating through me as I felt him pulsating in my mouth.

My tights moved in the air, my pussy pulsating, crying for attention.

"Baby," he called. I looked up. "Touch yourself. But don't stop. You're doing so well."

I couldn't focus on anything else but what he was telling me to do. I reached down, feeling my wetness seep through my fingers. A moan slipped past my lips as I started stroking myself, faster and faster. My clit was throbbing, begging for attention. I glanced at Carlos, watching him struggle to keep control. He looked so strained, his body tense, his torso glistening with tiny droplets of sweat. He looked so fucking good.

"You're going to make me come, baby." He groaned, thrusting deeper into my mouth. I increased the speed of my movements, my head bobbing up and down on his shaft. I could feel him getting closer, the pulse in his cock growing faster and faster.

He came quickly, his cum filling my mouth and down my throat. I swallowed, my stomach muscles contracting as I drank down every last drop. He released my hair and lay in bed, his breathing erratic. "Come here."

"He—Where?"

"Here," he said like it was obvious. "Sit on my face."

For a second, I hesitated. But then he looked at me, his eyebrow pointing up, his tongue wandering between his lips and God, how, better, why would I say no? I complied, sinking down on top of him. His hands came up to my ass, spreading me open as he took my aching pussy into his mouth. And that was another thing I could never get used to. I gasped, my hands coming down to grip his hair, now tousled and sweaty. His tongue was wet and velvety as it flicked over my clit. I ground against him, my breathing becoming ragged.

"Come for me, baby," he murmured. He was a starved man. I was his precious meal. And how good it felt to me worshipped like that. "Come on my fucking tongue."

My body shook as I came hard, my pussy clenching tightly around his tongue. He kept going, licking and sucking until I was crying out in sheer ecstasy, my hands gripping the headrest, my knuckles turning white as the sensations overwhelmed me.

I lay sprawled on the bed, my legs still jerking, tingling with aftershocks of delight, my naked form glistening with a light sheen of sweat, utterly spent and exhilarated.

Carlos approached me, his nose touching mine, making me smile. “You were so good,” he whispered just before he pressed a slow, tender kiss against my lips. My mouth parted in anticipation of his, like always. My eyes drifted closed as I kissed him back.

“Happy birthday,” I said with drunken delight.

A small humm from him was the only response I got until I felt his hands pulling me to him, holding me close to his chest. A kiss on the forehead followed that, then another, this time on the top of my head.

His hands were warm where they trailed down my back.

And then I drifted to sleep.

There was a strange weight over my belly.

A warm stream of air against my skin, rhythmically kissing my ribs. The room was dark and warm, and my head hurt. A few morning sun rays seeped through the binds, wrapping the room in a warm yet slow yellow tint. I tried to move my leg, but it was wrapped in another body. And a smile emerged on my lips.

Slowly, I stretched my hand, the touch of his hair sending shivers down my spine. Heat flushed through me when my sleepy gaze fell on him. His back rose up in perfect curves, taut muscles rolling along his spine with every breath, like waves coming ashore. My tan glowed under his brown hair, which fell in soft strands against my chest. The curve of his torso disappeared at his waist, revealing a small hollow where he had curled up against me as if he belonged there—as if that moment was what life was all about.

Hearts beating so slowly.

A silence so full of a promise of peace and security in the uncertainty.

The previous days had been so full, so messy, so… scary.

And I was never a fan of sleeping like this, especially in the summer, but if it meant to wake up to that view, my mind could change.

I blinked awake, feeling disoriented and confused. Memories from last night swirled around in my head, jumbled and hazy, until my mind slowly pieced together what happened. A long dinner, a lot of wine. Messy kisses on the elevator, even messier in bed. Slowly, the memories coalesced into a coherent whole, and I realized that I was in Carlos' hotel room, our bodies naked and intertwined. I could feel the sheets beneath me, the weight of his body against me, the scent of sex and him, in an intoxicating mixture, pulling me back to sleep.

Silence stretched around.

The sound of his breath evened out, deep asleep.

It was hot, and the logical part of my mind urged me to get up, take a shower and remind Carlos of his commitments, but against reason, I resisted the urge. Instead, I lay there, gently tracing the short waves of his hair and basking in the sight of him peacefully sleeping on my chest.

And perhaps that is what life is all about, after all.

Our intimacy reverberated in the depths of that silence that didn’t need to be fulfilled. Felt right. The weight of his body shifted, relieving mine from the warmth and when my eyes met his, he was looking up at me, a soft lazy curve on his lips.

“You’re awake,” he murmured at some point, his voice barely audible.

“I am.”

Carlos leaned in, and our lips met in a slow, languid kiss. Each brush of our lips, a moment of pure vulnerability and adoration. The brush of his fingers on my cheeks, our legs intertwined, our bodies finding comfort against each other. Wafting through the atmosphere, the deep understanding that there was no better place we could be.

“You have to go get ready.”

Carlos hummed against my jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my bare skin. "I set an alarm," he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “Why you’re up so early? It’s like…” He stretched his arm to check the time on the nightstand. “6.30.”

“Time doesn’t make sense,” I hummed, a tired smile on my face. He chuckled softy. My fingers danced across his skin, the warmth and softness of it inviting my touch. They came to a rest at the nape of his neck, where delicate strands of hair brushed against my fingertips, silently urging me to thread them between my fingers. “And someone was crushing me.”

Carlos nuzzled closer, a playful smile gracing his lips. "I plead innocent. It's not my fault if you turned out to be irresistibly cuddly."

Feigning mock indignation, I swatted his arm gently. “Excuse me? Turned out? ”

His laughter bubbled forth, warm and rich, filling the room with its infectious energy. He then rolled to his side, and as my eyes fell on his barely disturbed pillow, I pondered whether we had drifted off like that or if he had moved during the night. Adjusting my position, I turned to face him.

“It’s quite nice to wake up like this, you know?” I admitted with a soft smile, my gaze locked onto his. Carlos’ chuckle danced in the air, playful and affectionate.

“Now… Excuse me! Actually nice? Were you doubting it?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes that mirrored the lightness of our banter. “Have you seen me?”

“Oh, yes. I have.”

“So, why is it actually nice?”

“Because I thought it would be different. That I wouldn’t be so comfortable to be naked in bed with you. I mean, I saw you eat worms as a child—” A giggle left my lips. “And now I let those same lips kiss me.”

“Oh, baby, you let them do so much more. I can still taste you,” he said with a smirk, his hand travelling down to my ass and pushing me to him.

A soft laughter escaped my lips, a mixture of surprise and amusement. Carlos' playful response was exactly what I had come to expect from him. "Oh, now we're getting cheeky, are we?"

His smirk deepened, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern along the back of my thigh. My leg was now wrapped around his. "Well, you know me."

I shifted closer to him, my fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "You're incorrigible."

The air between us was light, infused with a sense of ease that came so naturally when we were together. It was moments like these that I cherished the most—the unfiltered exchanges, the unspoken understanding, the unbreakable connection. His fingers traced patterns in my skin, mine stood still in his chest, the beating of his heart under my digits—a language of touch and glances that we had grown accustomed to without even noticing. The warmth of his body against mine, the intimacy of our shared space—it all felt so right, so beautifully intimate.

Carlos propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze tender yet searching. "You know, for what it's worth,” he began.

“Yes?”

“Waking up next to you feels... right," he admitted, his tone softening, his gaze holding mine. And then, as a contemplative expression crossed his features, he shifted his gaze to the window. "You know, I never expected this,” his voice tinged with a mixture of wonder and vulnerability. "I never thought we would ever fall on the same page. Either because I thought I didn’t deserve to be seen this way by you or because… I don’t know. I was so afraid of fucking up and losing you…"

His words settled like a gentle wave, each syllable a touch on my soul. The rawness in his voice stirred something within me, a connection that seemed to reach beyond words. His touch was warm on my skin, his words so low and his voice so rough, the timbre a caress that sorted through the depths of my emotions. I laid back in bed, my hands resting over my belly, in the spot where he had been asleep moments before. It was still warm.

"I couldn’t stop thinking about losing you. Until I did. And then I couldn’t stop dreaming about having you back. And then I saw you in the garage, at Mugello, and… it all came back, you know?” His eyes dropped to my chest, and then to my eyes. “The fear of letting you go," he confessed softly, his gaze unwavering.

The vulnerability in his words was a mirror to my own heart, an echo of the fears and doubts that had once haunted both of us. It almost felt too much.

"But then… The second you allowed me to get close enough, to look at you and truly see you…” He stretched his fingers and let his hand find the skin of my chest. Over my stern, he let his index wander, from my neck to my hands. “To feel you… This is not about losing. Is it?”

“It is not,” I replied, a small smile curving my lips.

His hand wandered to my side, his thumb tracing a gentle path over my breast. I looked down, admiring the way my body reacted to him—eager shivers, a symphony of sensations awakening in its trail. With every touch, it felt like being discovered anew. Each time he touched me, it felt like being touched for the very first time all over again.

“You have no idea how much I understand that,” I murmured, lifting my head from the pillow, my lips seeking his. He met me halfway, his head tilting to close the distance between us.

So mellow and slow. Warm and comforting. And lazy. Our kisses unfolded in unhurried movements, a languid exploration of each other's emotions. Time seemed to stretch and bend, because in that space, within the circle of his arms, we could afford to be lazy. Outside, the world was put on hold.

Carlos moved to hover over me, his frame settling in between my legs, shielding me from the sunlight rays seeping through the curtains. It was all him. And the lines of his stupidly handsome body and face, enhanced by the light hitting his back.

“I have a question,” I said, looking up at him.

The corner of his lips tugged up in a smirk, as he lowered himself to kiss my chin. “Not now, baby.”

“Yes, now, baby.”

He looked up. The lines of his face were disguised in the dark room. “I really would like to start this day inside you.” He ran his hand on my side, stopping at the back of my leg and guiding it around his waist. “Can we do that?”

“But that won’t answer my question.”

“That will make me very very very happy.” He kissed my chin, again. And then my cheek, my jaw, just below my ear. I exhaled, a stupid smile on my lips. Yeah, I had no chance against his tactics. My fingers moved on his biceps, tautening under my touch as he pressed his waist against me. “Can you feel how happy you make me?” he asked, his voice low and velvet smooth.

"Hmhm," I acknowledged. And he did it again, eyes locked on mine. A small moan escaped between my pressed lips and he chuckled, amused.

I shut my eyes as he moved his hips again, this time sliding against my slick folds. So close, yet so agonizing far. I could feel my own desire and the knowledge of it made my blood boil in my veins. I wanted him more than anything, and my body needed him just the same.

"Carlos," I begged, arching my back as he teased me mercilessly. "Please."

He chuckled softly, pushing himself up a little so that his lips could find mine. "Please what?" he asked, his voice a soft tease.

Make love to me. The words erupted from a very hidden corner of my mind, still lost in sleep and trapped in the fabric of dreams.

"Please," I repeated, this time a little louder. "I need you."

"I can see that," he replied, his voice low and serious. I opened my eyes to find him looking down, guiding his cock with one hand and using the other to move some strands of hair away from his face. "How are you so wet already, baby?"

How couldn’t I be?

I couldn't answer. All I could do was whimper as he teased me again, his tip sliding all the way through my slit, poking the entrance.

"You like being teased, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and sinful. "You like it so much that it’s a shame I can’t spend the whole day making you go crazy with it."

"Yes," I gasped, arching my back to get closer to him. He circled the entrance and I pressed my feet to the mattress, my head going back to the pillow as my body ached for him. "Please, Carlos."

"Okay, baby. I'm here," he said lowly, his voice a throaty whisper. He kissed me again, slowly but deeply. His tongue brushed against mine, my lips trapped between his teeth. "I'll make love to you."

The words were like a balm to my achy heart, a balm that soothed and healed. Carlos eased himself in slowly, a slow, torturous movement that made my entire body cry for him. And then out. Even more slowly. My hands moved to his shoulders, and then to his hair, urging him back. And when he was finally inside me again, I let out a long, trembling breath.

The slick, wet heat of us was heaven. His movements were slow and deliberate, a delicious torture that made me writhe uncontrollably beneath him.

"Austria," he breathed, his head hovering above mine as he moved his hips against me, burying himself deeper inside. I opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze. "That's what made me go to Mugello."

A moan escaped my lips as he pushed even further, my back arching in response to the pleasure coursing through me. His eyes, filled with a burning desire, remained locked onto mine. "How? Why?" I managed to ask, my voice trembling with need.

"The fire," he confessed, his movements deliberate and sensual. His fingers slid through mine, our hands intertwining as he raised them above my head and thrust into me once more, the sensation more intense than before. "I didn't think about dying or getting hurt. All I could think about was you.” He moaned lowly, a fucking melody in my ears. “Your voice in my head."

I furrowed my brow, his words slowly registering in my desire-clouded mind. Sensations of pleasure and love pulsed through me as he continued to move, his gaze never leaving mine. He was taking his time, savouring every moment of our connection.

“Me?”

His grip on my fingers got stronger. “You.”

And then, in my cloudy mind, in the midst of all things I was feeling and desiring, the endless goodbyes we exchanged. His cologne mixed with rubber and oil, the sound of engines and rattle guns. The hugs at the airport, at home, before leaving and after arriving.

"Go race but don't die in there," I whispered, the words escaping my lips like a fervent prayer. He cracked a small, affectionate smile.

"Exactly that," he murmured against my lips. "And then, for a fraction of a second, I thought of dying. And how I wouldn't see you ever again."

I swallowed hard, the ache in my chest intensifying. My feelings seemed bigger than myself.

"I want to be with you."

Carlos's face softened at my words. "I want that, too, baby," he whispered, his voice full of love and tenderness, his chest pressing against mine as he caught my lips in a slow kiss, burying himself inside me once more.

And then he was moving faster, harder, and I was lost, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over me and the idea of how I had found home. I was falling. No safety net, yet the wind in my face was greater than any safety I had ever known.

Minutes after climax, both of us still lost in post-sex bliss and in each other, Carlos’ alarm rang on the nightstand. The room was now more brightly lit, but our bodies were still languid and sated, lost in the cocoon of our intimate connection. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the strident symphony of the alarm.

"Think I've got time for a quick nap?" I inquired with a playful raise of my eyebrow.

Carlos let out a soft chuckle as he silenced the alarm. "You can sleep while I hit the shower," he suggested, his voice still husky. "And then you'll need to get up and start getting ready, or else we’ll be late."

Feeling the weight of exhaustion creeping in, I sighed deeply while sitting up in bed. I looked around. Last night was still a confusing puzzle in my mind. And then, it all came to clarity. "Fuck!" I exclaimed, suddenly realizing, "Rio has my key card."

"Why—How did that happen?"

"What do you mean, 'how'? He did the check-in, and I just dropped my bags here at the hotel and ran to the restaurant. I—Fuck. This is on you," I threw him a pillow.

Despite my efforts, he caught it quite easily. “How is this my fault?”

“You… seduced me in the elevator,” he laughed at my words, taking a hand to his belly.

Getting up, he threw me the pillow and walked to the closet, taking a robe out of there. To be honest, half my worries disappeared while he walked naked through the room, the view being distraction enough.

"Well,” he passed me the robe. “Rio's room is just across the hall. You can pop over there, grab the key card, and sort your stuff out. I can even go for you, if you want."

My anxiety spiked at the thought of such a direct confrontation. "You want me to just knock on my brother's door and say, 'Hi, I just spent the night with your best friend. Nice night overall, but now I need my stuff to get ready.’?"

Carlos pondered the situation for a moment before responding. “Yes.”

With a sigh and a reluctant nod, I accepted the robe. I wrapped it around me, the rush of nerves tugging around at the same time. Talking to my brother about last night wasn't something I was eager to do. If there was something good about having him moving soon out of the house, was the fact that never, in my whole life, had he encountered a guy leaving my room. But there was no avoiding it now, was it?

"Alright," I muttered, summoning my resolve. "I'll go get the key card and then I’ll get ready. We meet at breakfast. But if this turns into an awkward family moment, I'm blaming you."

Carlos chuckled, his voice a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves. "I'll take full responsibility.” He picked up the second robe and dressed it. “It's not the end of the world, Eva. He’s done worse."

I gave him a wry smile, appreciating his attempt to ease my tension. "Easy for you to say," I quipped, heading towards the door.

I mustered up the courage to walk across the hall and knock on Rio's door. Barefoot and with my hair tied in a terrible bun. It didn't take long before my brother answered, and the smirk on his face was undeniable.

"Eva, my dear sister," he said, his tone teasing. "Can’t say I wasn’t waiting for you."

"Cut it out, Fabrizio,” I moved in my feet. “Can I just get my key card?”

He feigned innocence. "Key card?”

“Come on, I need to go get ready.”

He raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "Oh, I'm sure you do.”

“Rio, I swear to God—” he interrupted me with a laugh while taking a step back and opening the door. My bags rested against his closet. I frowned. “How? Why?”

Rio's laughter rang through the room as I walked in to retrieve my bags. He leaned against the door frame, still chuckling. "Well, sis," he began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I figured, why waste the money on a separate room for you when I knew you'd end up there anyway? Plus, it's been ages since I had a chance to tease you properly."

I shook my head in disbelief, simultaneously amused and annoyed by his antics. "I should've known you'd pull something like this."

He gave me an unapologetic grin. "What can I say? It's in my big brother's job description to embarrass you whenever possible.”

I rolled my eyes, but a fond smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Alright, alright," I relented, grabbing my suitcase, purse and Carlos’ gift. "I'll see you at breakfast. And for the record, Carlos is a way better roommate than you."

Rio laughed heartily, waving me off as I headed back to Carlos' room. As I closed the door behind me, I couldn't help but shake my head at my brother's antics. On the other side of the hall, the door was closed. I knocked, hoping Carlos hadn’t yet stepped into the shower.

When he opened the door, his face broke into a grin, which quickly escalated into hearty laughter. “Guess it’s a sleepover, now,” I said.

He shrugged. “Good thing we get along well.”

I'll review the chapter again in a day or two, so I'm sorry if there are a few typos, but I just finished it. Happy birthday, Carlito. Hope Monza is good for him, this weekend. post weekend edit: MONZA WAS GOOD FOR HIM, IM CRYING HAPPY TEARS taglist: @alesainz @juliantheupsidedown @dreamsarebig (i forgot to tag people when i posted the chapter because i was just so nervous about posting this (we love anxiety) so sorry, but ill try to not forget next time) thank you all for the messages and the replies and especially the reblogs! i love you all SO much. thank you so much for the support. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. See you around. All the love, Bru 🤍

#Tightrope #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #fanf1ction #f1 fanfic #driver x you #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #driver x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz angst

434 notes · View notes

topgun-imagines · 1 year

Text

Something In The Orange

Requested: no

Summary: When Mav pulls Bradley’s papers, you have no idea. You only find out when your boyfriend dissapears in the middle of the night.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: smut, blowjobs, handjob, oral sex (male & fem!receiving) fingering, penetrative sex, foul language, loss of virginity, angst, break ups, crying, fights, insecurity, complicated relationships, drifting apart. Please let me know if I missed anything! 18+

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Bradley was the first person that you ever really loved. The two of you had met during your junior year of high school. Ever since then, the two of you had become inseparable. You finally started dating the summer before your senior year. Bradley had applied to USNA and you had a scholarship to go to law school in Texas. Even though you had only been together for just over a year, you felt like you would spend the rest of your life with Bradley.

Now, you were riding shotgun in Bradley’s blue Bronco. You were on the way back to his house. His fingers were intertwined with yours as he pulled up to the sidewalk. Your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your knuckles as he shut the truck off. Hopping down, he rounded the front of the truck and opened your door for you.

The two of you walked hand in hand toward the door. The house that he, Mav, and Ice were staying in had light blue siding and a large white front porch. There was an American flag hanging from the roof of the porch and a large elm tree in the middle of the unfenced yard. Ever since Carole passed a few months ago, Mav and Bradley had been staying with Ice.

You were quiet as you slipped into the darkness of the house. The two of you giggled quietly as Bradley led you up the stairs and into his bedroom. The sound of the door clicking softly behind you mixed with your laboured breaths was all that could be heard in the tiny room.

Tonight was finally going to be the first time that you and Bradley had sex. And while Bradley had some experience in this field, you had no idea what you were doing.

Bradley’s hands settled on the side of your face as his lips moulded together with yours. You melted into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth when it traced the seam of your lips. A quiet, high-pitched whine escaped you as his tongue tangled with yours.

He pulled away a few seconds later, laughing quietly as his forehead knocked against yours. “You gotta be quiet baby.” There was a sheepish smile on your face as a blush crept up your chest. Mav and Ice were right down the hall. You didn’t need them to hear anything of what was about to happen.

Suddenly, Bradley’s mouth went bone dry at the sight of you sinking onto your knees. You stared up at him as you brought one hand up to palm him through his jeans. He tossed his head back in a moan as you squeezed him softly.

Your boyfriend was panting when he looked back down. Slowly, you started to pull the zipper of his fly down. Then, as if you were teasing him, you popped the button on his jeans before dragging the material down his legs. That left him standing in front of you in nothing but his boxers. The sight made your mouth water.

With wide eyes, you glanced up at Bradley. He nodded encouragingly and sucked in a sharp breath when you began dragging his boxers down his legs.

His cock slapped against his stomach as you pulled the fabric down. There was a look of concertation on your face as you reached a hand up and gripped the base of his dick. It was one that Bradley had seen so many times before, usually when you had your nose hurried in a book. This time, however, was much less innocent.

You began moving your hand up and down his length, stroking him until he was fully hard.

By the time you were satisfied, there was a few drops of precum leaking from the head of his cock. The tip was an angry red colour. The whole time your hand was moving over him, you had been transfixed by the sound of his desperate moans and whimpers.

Bradley noticed the hesitant look in your eyes as you stared at the way his hips bucked in desperation. His hand settled against the soft skin of your cheek. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You instantly began shaking your head. You wanted this.

Sucking in a shaky breath, you steeled yourself before tentatively wrapping your fingers around his cock once more. You gripped him firmly, leaning forward until your breath was ghosting across his tip.

When Bradley felt your puckered lips press a soft kiss to the crown of his cock, he had to stop himself from cursing aloud. You slowly began to grow more confident. Eventually, you were licking a stripe up from his balls to his tip, slipping the plush head inside your mouth afterward. That time, Bradley did curse.

You began suckling on the first few inches of his cock. You hollowed your cheeks as you began bobbing your head up and down, trying to recall any tips or tricks you had heard from your friends.

Bradley groaned above you, head tossed back against the door as his hand wove into your hair. A surprised moan vibrated from your mouth and through his cock when he tugged on your roots. Your tongue traced the vein on the bottom of his cock as you pushed yourself further and further down him until you were gagging around his length.

A choked gasp escaped him as he pulled you off his length. Bradley was panting as your hand continued to move slowly up and down his shaft. There was a devilish look in your eyes as your hand trailed down to his balls. You grinned as you squeezed softly, rolling them around in your hand.

“Get up, Honey,” His eyes were hooded, pleasure clouding the now-dark irises. You obeyed, standing before him as his hands gripped your hips. Harsh enough to leave bruises. You slipped your shirt over your head, grinning at the way Bradley’s eyes were focused on your tits. Your breath caught in your throat at the intense look in his eyes when he made eye contact with you. “I’m gonna make you feel real good.”

You allowed Bradley to lead you back toward the bed. Your knees hit the back of the bed, causing you to fall onto the soft sheets. Bradley knelt between your spread legs. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the hungry look in his eyes.

Before you knew it, Bradley was slipping your shorts down your legs. Your breathing grew heavy as he began peppering kisses over the supple skin of your thighs. He kissed his way up to your center, leaving delicate purple marks in his wake.

Soft moans escaped you as he began to press gentle kisses over your clothed cunt. The cotton slowly soaked through.

Bradley looked up at you, eyes silently asking if you were sure about this. When you nodded your head softly, he grinned. Seconds later, the fabric was being dragged down your legs slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his tongue trailing up the inside of your thigh.

The next thing you knew his lips were wrapped around your clit, causing your hips to buck wildly off the bed. You moaned loudly. Bradley's eyes darted up to yours, a cocky smirk on his face. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He reprimanded you gently.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Bradley ate you out like a starved man. He had your legs thrown over his shoulders, one hand gripping your leg while the other pinned your hips to the bed.

You did your best to control your moans, even going as far as biting your own hand to keep yourself quiet. Bradley’s tongue laved over your dripping hole. A high-pitched whine fell from your lips at the feeling of him slipping his tongue into your hole.

You could feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. The feeling kept building and building, so much so until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, the feeling disappeared completely. “I want to cum around me.” His words alone we’re almost enough to send you over the edge.

He slowly crawled up your body, hands skimming gently over your soft skin. His hard cock brushed against your lower abdomen as he settled on top of you. You grinned up at him and he gave you a reassuring smile in return.

Bradley pressed a plethora of kisses to the side of your neck. Pleasured gasps tumbled from your mouth as your back arched off the bed. “Condom,” You moaned out. “Bradley get a condom.”

Feeling his body weight disappear for a few seconds, your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for him to return. When you felt the bed dip beside you, a flush began rising up your chest. Your eyes opened slowly, taking in the sight of Bradley kneeling above you, fisting his cock slowly. You moaned at the sight, watching as he rolled the condom down his length.

Nerves filled you as Bradley lowered himself onto you. “You ready baby?” You nodded, sucking in a shaky breath as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds. When it swiped over your clit you let out a sinful moan. Bradley groaned at the sound.

He stared deep into your eyes, reassurance shining through. Slowly, inch by inch, he eased himself into you. Your lips parted in a silent scream, suddenly overwhelmed by the intrusion. Bradley lowers himself down, cradling you to his chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your damp hair.

Before you knew it, Bradley was seated balls deep inside of you. You panted harshly at the stretch, eyes screwing shut at the foreign feeling. “Tell me when.” Your boyfriend's voice was low and raspy as he fought his hardest to restrain himself. You were clenching so beautifully around him that he almost lost it the second he slid in. You nodded distractedly, willing the slight discomfort away.

After a few minutes, you nodded softly. “Please just,” You murmured quietly, still trying to catch your breath. “Just be gentle.” Bradley smiled down at you. You knew that he would, you just needed to remind him.

Bradley began slowly rocking into you, only slipping out a few inches before pushing back in. You moaned at the feeling, eyes rolling back as his tip brushed against a spot so deep inside you it made you want to cry.

The only sounds that could be heard in the small bedroom were the sounds of yours and Bradley’s joint moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin. Your boyfriend's hips rutted into yours quickly, drawing cry after cry from your parted and cracked lips.

Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, Bradley let out a deep groan at the feeling of your wet cunt clenching around his cock.

The feeling from earlier returned. You could feel the hot white pressure building, a coil tightening more and more with each of his sharp thrusts. You hardly noticed the way his pace grew sloppy. His warm breath fanned across the skin of your neck as you arched off the bed.

The sound of Bradley letting out a high-pitched whine had you gripping his cock like a vice. “Please Bradley,” You begged breathlessly. “‘M gonna cum,” Bradley nodded, eyes screwed shut as his hand drifted down to your core. “Fuck!” You exclaimed at the feeling of his fingers circling your clit in tight, precise patterns.

That coil was winding tighter and tighter, right up until one final nudge of his cock against that little spongy spot inside you sent you falling quickly over the edge. Bradley followed close behind, hot spurts of cum filling the condom as your cunt milked him dry. He continued to rock into you, working the pair of you through your intense highs.

He stilled inside of you a few seconds later. The pair of you continued panting as you wound your arms around his back. You stared up at the ceiling, a blissed-out grin on your face. you were so glad that you and Bradley had finally done that. All the nerves and worries from earlier had disappeared completely once Bradley first slipped in.

That blissed-out smile soon turned into a wince when he slipped out of you. He crawled off of you and dropped the used condom into the trash can. Bradley disappeared to the washroom. You followed on shaky legs. Bradley stood in front of the toilet, finishing his business before stepping over to the sink.

You sat down on the toilet and shot him a lazy grin. Once you were finished you flushed the toilet, cringing slightly at the sight of blood in the bowl. You had heard that that could happen but it didn’t make you any more comfortable.

Hand in hand, you and Bradley made your way back toward the bed, collapsing onto it in a fit of giggles. You snuggled together under the covers, your head resting on Bradley’s sweaty chest and his arm tucked under your shoulders.

Your eyes slowly fluttered shut, the post-sex haze making you feel sleepy. You tucked yourself under Bradley's chin, snuggling into the crook of his neck. “I love you, baby girl,” You heard him whisper. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer into his warmth. “Please don't ever forget that.” You hummed quietly, murmuring something along the same lines. Your words were slurred as you allowed sleep to pull you under.

“I love you too, Brad.”

The roar of Mav’s motorcycle was what woke you up in the morning. You stretched with a yawn, frowning when you felt the empty bed. You sat up, blinking quickly as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. There was an orange glow streaming through the bedroom window and a quick glance at the clock told you it was just before 6 o’clock.

You got dressed slowly, guessing that Bradley and Ice were sitting downstairs having breakfast. However, the house was eerily quiet. Usually, when you stayed the night, you were woken by sloppy kisses being peppered across your face or the sound of Maverick and Ice laughing downstairs.

As you headed down the stairs, you continued to grow confused. You couldn’t even hear the scraping of utensils against plates. You rounded the corner into the kitchen, eyebrows furrowing when you found Ice sitting at the counter alone. He had a note clutched in his hands.

“Ice?” The sound of your voice caused his head to whip up. There was a sadness in his eyes, one that suddenly made you question why Mav sped off so fast this morning. “What’s going on?”

You sat down across from him, eyes the paper in his hand suspiciously. “Morning kiddo.” He had a sad smile on his face.

Worry grew in the pit of your stomach. “Where did Mav go? And,” You paused, glancing around the room in search of your boyfriend. “Where’s Bradley?” Ice almost didn’t want to tell you what happened.

He sighed, glancing between the note and your curious and oblivious eyes. “Look kiddo,” The Capitan started. He really didn’t know how to explain it to you in a way that wouldn’t destroy you. Honestly, he wasn’t sure that that was possible. “Just, just read this.” He handed the paper to you. It appeared as if had been crumpled and balled up multiple times. There were dark spots that you guessed had come from tears.

The letter was addressed to you and Ice. You found it odd that there was no mention of Mav. As you read through it, any hope that you had that everything was going to be okay died. It was from Bradley, explaining that due to the recent actions of Maverick, he couldn’t stand to live anywhere near Ice or Mav. He didn’t want them to have any say in what he did with his life. Nowhere in the letter did it explain why he wanted that.

“So,” You choked out, staring at the letter as you spoke to Ice. “What is this supposed to mean?” You stared at him, hands beginning to shake and tears welling in your eyes.

The older man stared at you with sympathy. “Bradley left last night,” A sob bubbled out of your chest. “Oh honey,” He cooed, pulling you into his chest as you cried. “Mav did something stupid and Bradley decided to leave,” His hand moved up and down your beck softly. “It’s not your fault.” He promised quietly.

You pulled back, breathing fast and hiccuping as you tried to calm yourself down. “Please Ice,” you practically begged him. “Please tell me that you’re kidding?” There was a sad smile on his face. You broke down into tears once again. “No,” You gasped out. You could feel your heart pounding on the inside of your skull. “He wouldn’t leave. Not after last night.” The reminder of what happened last night froze you in your tracks.

How could he do that after what happened last night? he knew how important that was for you. Apparently, it didn’t mean as much to him. Out of all the ways that you would have guessed this morning would go, either eating breakfast with your boyfriend’s makeshift family or sneaking out when no one was looking, you never thought that Bradley would have disappeared in the middle of the night. You never imagined waking up to find out that your boyfriend had left you without a goodbye after the night that you had spent together.

You had been there for him when Carole passed, holding him for weeks after he dealt with the loss of his mother. And now, he couldn’t even say goodbye or explain to you why he was leaving. There was hardly even a mention of you in the note he left. You thought that you at least meant a little more to him than that.

“What happened last night?” Ice’s question drew you out of your daydream. You shook your head. You felt as if you were going to be sick. Before Ice could stop you, you were rushing to the backyard, pacing around the deck as you sucked in laboured breaths.

The sliding door closed softly behind you, alerting you to the man's presence. Ice took a seat on one of the chairs, patiently waiting for you to explain why you were suddenly so distraught.

A humourless laugh escaped you. You couldn’t even begin to feel embarrassed about what you were about to admit, too consumed with a mixture of worry and betrayal. “We slept together last night. For the first time.” It was hardly a whisper and in the background noise of Miramar waking up, it was almost drowned out completely. And yet, Ice still heard you loud and clear. He heard the tremble in your voice as you spoke and he saw the way your hands shook.

Ice remained silent, watching as you stopped pacing. You set your hands on your hips, staring out over the fence at the rising sun. With a sigh, the Capitan stood from his seat and walked over behind you. “I just can’t believe he would leave.” You whispered brokenly. Bradley meant the world to you. It sucked learning that you didn’t mean enough for him to stay.

The pair of you stood on the edge of the deck in silence, Ice’s arm wound around your shoulders as he tried to comfort you. “I know,” He whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Tears fell down your face in steady streams as you came to terms with what happened.

Bradley had left. And as you stared at the orange hue tinting the sky, you knew that he was never coming home. You didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. Ice held you as you cried, wishing that this was all just a bad dream.

You spent the rest of the summer trying to move on from Bradley. It didn’t work, you knew it wouldn’t, but you couldn’t deny the small sliver of hope in your mind that one day Bradley would come home. He never did, and so, in the fall, you boarded a plane for Texas. Ice had dropped you off. He saw the distant and longing look in your eye. The spark that had once been there had now died.

While you were away, you and Ice kept in contact. You hardly spoke to Mav. Ever since Bradley had left, the man that had once been like a father to you wanted nothing to do with you. Ice could have told you why but honestly, you didn’t want to know. Bradley hadn’t even bothered trying to contact you. You didn’t know whether you appreciated that he stayed gone, or if you resented him for ever leaving in the first place. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you knew it was closer to the second option.

Years later you graduated law school and went on to become a lawyer. Time went on and eventually, you didn’t think of Bradley every day. There were some days when the memory would pop up again, reminding you of all the pain you left behind. Each time it happened, you wished that you could forget everything about that small town. But, you could never be able to forget Bradley Bradshaw. After all, he was the first man you ever loved.

a/n: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it ☺️ requests are open.

Tagging: @topguncultleader @t0kyoreveng3rs @soulmates8 @there-goes-thefighter @blueoorchid @dreamgirl3300 @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @genius2050 @ice-doc-val @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @natt-67 @anglebabyange @oliviah-25

Join my taglist!

770 notes · View notes

ryanyflags · 4 months

Text

Trans Flags

I made a post with 4 striped trans flags a while ago, but I wanted to revisit it with some new edits/flags.

(Not all of these are mine, I just like having everything together as a set. I'll also be splitting them into sections, since there are a lot of flags.)

──────────✦──────────

transmasculine/transmasc ★ transfeminine/transfem ★ transnonbine/transenbine/transnbine/transnonbinarine

(Note: nonbine, enbine, nbine, and nonbinarine are words for nonbinary gender quality, nonbinary versions of masculine, feminine, etc. The first 3 I came up with, and nonbinarine comes from here.)

✦ All these flags follow these trans flag formats. The white and grey black stripes are the same for all of them, and the only thing that changes are the center 2 stripes, for the respective gender qualities.

The transmasc and transfem flags are the same as their originals.

Transnonbine was made by me. I used the yellow and purple stripes from the nonbinary flag.

──────────✦──────────

transandrogynous ★ transgenderless ★ transneutral/transneu

Transandrogynous is just a slight colour edit of the original. (I changed the bottom stripe to grey and adjusted the purples.)

Transgenderless is the same as the original.

For transneutral I chose green, as that's a common colour for neutrality. So it's like this variant of transneu.

──────────✦──────────

transmaverine/transmav ★ transxenine/transxen ★ transbine/transbinarine

(Note: bine/binarine is binary gender quality. Binarine comes from here, but I came up with bine follow the same naming convention as nbine.)

Transmav is pretty much the same as the original, though I changed the yellow and orange to be slightly darker, for more contrast.

Transxenine is quite different from the original. Instead of copper colours, I used a light purple blue colour scheme, just because I felt those colours were fitting.

Transbine uses the colours from this binarine flag. (I chose the lighter colours so it wouldn't look too similar to the transmascfem flag.)

──────────✦──────────

transmidbine/transmidbinarine ★ transabine/transabinarine ★ transatrine/transatrinarine

(Note: midbine/midbinarine is midbinary gender quality, abine/abinarine is abinary gender quality, and atrine/atrinarine is atrinary gender quality. I came up with midbine/abine/atrine following the naming format of nbine, and derived atrinarine from midbinarine and abinarine (which weren't made by me).)

Transmidbine, transabine, and transatrine all use the colours from my alt midbinary/abinary/atrinary flags. Besides this transabinarine flag, which uses a different format, I don't think flags for these exist, so they're pretty much new designs.

──────────✦──────────

transaporine ★ transoutherine

Transaporine is fairly different from its original. Instead of using bright red orange, I used the colours from this aporine flag.

Transoutherine is also kind of different from its original, mainly it's the colour configuration. I used this outherine flag as reference.

──────────✦──────────

From here on are combos of the above flags/terms :D

transnbinemasc ★ transandrogynousmasc ★ transgenderlessmasc

(Note: transandrogynousmasc is also called transandromasc. The wiki page lists transandromasc as both transandrogynous and transmasculine, so I assume andro is supposed to be a shortening of androgynous. However shortening it like that just means masculine, so I use androgynous instead so it's clearer.)

Transnbinemasc is a mix of the blues, yellow, and purple from the transmasc and transnbine flags.

Transandrogynousmasc is bluish purple, as a combo of the blues of transmasc and purples of transandrogynous. Same idea as the original, though I used slightly different colours.

Transgenderlessmasc is just greyish blue, as a combo of the grey from transgenderless and blue from transmasc.

(I don't think transnbinemasc and transgenderlessmasc have been made before, so those are new flags.)

──────────✦──────────

transneumasc ★ transmavmasc ★ transxenmasc

Transneumasc is just a edit of the original flag. (The colours are slightly lighter.)

Transmavmasc uses orange yellow from the transmav flag, and a adjusted blue from the transmasc flag.

Transxenmasc uses the purple from transxen, and the light blue from transmasc.

(I haven't found transmavmasc and transxenmasc before, so these are new flags too.)

──────────✦──────────

transnbinefem ★ transandrogynousfem ★ transgenderlessfem

(Note: same as the one about transandromasc, this one is also called transandrofem.)

For transnbinefem is a mix of the pinks, yellow, and purple from the transfem and transnbine flags.

Transandrogynousfem is a lot like the original, I just used slightly different colours.

Transgenderlessfem just uses a greyish pink, as a combo of the greys of transgenderless and pinks of transfem.

(Transnbinefem and transgenderlessfem are also new flags, as far as I'm aware, I wouldn't be surprised if similar flags have been made before, though perhaps just not in this format.)

──────────✦──────────

transneufem ★ transmavfem ★ transxenfem

Transneufem is based off of my transneumasc flag, I chose a light peachy colour for it. The original is pretty different, it uses a bright red instead.

Transmavfem uses the same orange yellow from transmav, and the dark pink from transfem (which I adjusted the hue of, so it would match better with the orange).

Transxenfem uses the same light purple from transxen, and the light pink from transfem.

(Last note about this, but I transmavfem and transxenfem should be new too.)

──────────✦──────────

transmascfem/transfemasc

Transmascfem flags have been made before, but not in this 4 stripe format (that I know of). I chose the dark pink from transfem, and the light blue from transmasc.

──────────✦──────────

There's also transoutherinemasc and transoutherinefem flags in the same 4 stripe style. I didn't make any though, since I couldn't figure out how to make it look. It's the same reason why I skipped out on making combos with transbine, transmidbine, transabine, transatrine, and transaporine, I just couldn't figure out a good design.

──────────✦──────────

I'll also note about the names, there's a lot of possible names for these terms, I didn't list all of them because there's a lot. So feel free to use these flags for alt terms, or come up with your own terms (as long as they mean the same thing).

✦

Haha I typed a lot, I guess it's a kind of a masterpost / compilation post with all these links, I think it's nice to have everything together in a matching set like this anyways.

178 notes · View notes

agathaandbrienneslesbian · 10 months

Text

Love-Letters

Jane Murdstone x Fem!Maid!Reader

Hiyaaaa I've finally finished my Jane murdstone fic and it's the first fic I'll upload on Tumblr so...

Big thank you to my freinds for proof reading this mess :3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, minors DNI

Authors note: Just because we love our red flag on legs. Smutty fanfic of Female Reader Maid and Jane Murdstone. Secrets, Love confessions, (kinda) soft Jane, top! Jane, bottom! Reader.

Words: 4’000+

Ao3 Link

Taglist

------

The second you saw her in the maid's quarters, holding a stack of notes in her hand and glaring at you, you knew you were royally fucked. There she stood. The object of your (very questionable) affection, Jane Murdstone. You knew you shouldn’t like her, but you couldn’t help yourself. There was just something enchanting about the way she carried herself.

Jane Murdstone, who has been terrorising you for so many months, ever since she set foot in your Lady's manor and made you her personal maid.

THE Miss Murdstone who, as soon as you laid eyes on her, burned her beautiful image in your mind and heart, making it impossible to forget her icy blue eyes, the pale ivory skin, or her soft long black tresses you so gladly brushed out each morning and evening. And even though everyone else feared the Iron Lady, you saw a gentler, more vulnerable side of her, you saw behind the facade, and that's what made you fall for that woman.

However, this Jane Murdstone was now marching up to you at a dangerous pace, her eyes narrow and unreadable. A shiver went down your spine, as soon as she stood towering in front of you in all her stoic beauty, looking down at your small and weak form.

“What is this?” She asked through gritted teeth, wiggling the loose notes in front of your face. Confused, you focused on the pages in her hand, and your heart dropped. She was holding the poems and love letters you’d written about her in secret. The only way to confront your feelings towards her and the biggest secret you’ve harboured in your boring little life as a maid. Have you forgotten to put them away? You are usually so careful, but this time it must have slipped your mind. Fear rose in you and you swallowed dryly.

“I- I don’t know my Lady.” You answer, trying to sound as clueless as you possibly could with the amount of panic and fear rushing through your veins. Miss Murdstone, of course, picked up on the slight quiver in your voice. She was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out fear and lies. You didn’t dare look at her, as you were sure disgust and discontent would colour Jane’s ivory features.

“Lies,” She hissed and gripped your chin painfully, moving your head so you had no other choice but to make eye contact with her. The second your eyes met hers, your fear mixed with confusion. She looked… Hurt? Afraid? Angry? The stoic Iron Lady was portraying emotions you have never seen on her face, or at least emotions she would never dare show anyone.

“I know you wrote those letters and poems. What were you hoping to achieve with that? Have you planned for me to find them? To mock me? To get under my skin? What is it?” She barked at you, anger rising in her throat. How could you? Your eyes softened as you recognised what she felt. Pain. But… Why would your poems and letters, which describe her otherworldly beauty and confess your true and raw feelings for her cause pain?

“My Lady I-”

“Save it,” She grunted and shoved you to the side, leaving you stumbling to the ground.

“I do not need to remind you of your place in this household, do I? If you should ever as much as THINK of trying to get under my skin again with such childish mockery, I WILL have you thrown out. And that is a promise!” She stormed off towards the direction of her study and you followed suit, unsure of what to do or say but you wanted to tell her, tell her that you were not mocking her but that every word you wrote is true. Tell her that you, indeed, have lost yourself in her sparkling blue orbs, that you longed to run your fingers through her raven black locks, that you desired to feel what her soft and pink lips feel on your own. How endearing her little quirks and laughs were when she was relaxed, reading a book whilst you helped her get ready for the day. You wanted to tell her all of this and so much more, but you knew it wasn’t right.

The moment she entered her study, you could hear the sizzling of the flames in the fireplace grow louder. Was she… no… You rushed in only to freeze in place, watching with horror and dismay as she had thrown your notes, the declaration of your undying devotion and love for her, into the blazing flames.

“And you…” She turned to look at you, an enraged expression etched into her face, obscuring her usually so beautiful features, causing the little faint scar on her upper lip to become very noticeable.

“I do not wish to have you anywhere near me ever again! You clearly have gotten way too comfortable, thinking I wouldn’t notice your disrespect towards me. Now get out… Get. OUT!” Jane was fuming with anger. She thought you might have been different, kinder, but you were just like everyone else.

You didn’t know what to say, simply looking at the dancing flames consuming your thoughts and feelings. You didn’t dare look at her anymore and simply turned around to leave the study, feeling numb and empty. The walk to your chamber felt long and treacherous with a million thoughts running through your head, yet it was blank at the same time. You were sure, that night was the worst night of your entire existence. You felt heartbroken and worried about what was going to happen now that she knew you craved the fairer sex. Not once were you able to close your eyes, as the haunting image of her face lined with hurt and betrayal presented itself to you as soon as you did.

Of course, you were hoping for this to be a bad dream, but the next morning, Mr. Murdstone, her brother, informed you of your new position as a kitchen maid. And that’s where you were to remain, not once being able to see Jane’s face or hear her voice. No matter how much pain it caused you to see her that night, it hurt even more not being able to see her at all. You even caught yourself sneaking out of the kitchen and through the manor just to, hopefully, accidentally bump into her but luck wasn’t on your side. The other maids kept complaining about Miss Murdstones temper. Every maid who was assigned to her hasn’t lasted for more than a day. Each and every one of them has come back to the maids quarters either furious, spitting vile comments about your beloved Lady, or sobbing but not once were you asked to return to your original position as Jane’s personal maid. You had almost given up on ever being able to see her again, that was until one morning Mr. Murdstone entered the kitchen, looking for you.

“Y/n?” He called out for you, causing all the other maids working in the kitchen to turn around and face you with curiosity. Some have already started whispering and gossiping as soon as you were released from your role as Miss Murdstone’s personal maid. But this… This must have been even worse. You felt helpless.

“Yes, Sir?” You set the soap aside and dried your hands on your apron as you turned around, bowing lightly. The feeling of so many eyes on you was uncomfortable. You only wanted one pair of eyes on you but the person whose icy blue diamonds belonged to didn’t want you around anymore.

“My sister is in need of assistance and none of the other maids are currently at disposal. Now I know for some reason she has asked me to remove you as her personal maid. However, I do not know why nor do I care to find out. I trust you have enough time to spare?” He looked at you, waiting for a reply. Was this really happening? Have you heard correctly? Anxiety rose in your chest, you took a deep breath nodding lightly.

“Of course, Sir.” Your answer was quiet. This seemed to suffice as he just turned around without another word and left. Miss Murdstone might be known for her iron status but it was her brother you feared more than anyone in this household. Nervously you took your kitchen apron off and put your regular apron on, making your way down the hall and up the stairs to Jane’s chambers. You tucked a strand of hair, which had fallen out of your braid when changing the apron, behind your ear and knocked, waiting for her to call you in.

Once you heard her calling you in, you opened the door and entered. Closing the door again behind you, you saw her sitting at her vanity still in her nightgown. She hadn’t noticed you yet and was focused on unbraiding her hair - that beautiful silky raven hair. With careful steps, you walked towards her, standing behind her and grabbing the brush on the table to start brushing through her locks. Jane was too busy rummaging through her vanity drawer to look up at you but she did notice a change of maid.

“Finally someone who knows how to use a hairbrush correctly. All the other maids were klutzes.” She murmured, more to herself than to you, then she looked up and froze.

“What are you doing here? I thought I was clear enough with my demands to have you out of my face.” She spat and moved to grip your wrist, stopping you from brushing out her hair. You jumped at her reaction. Her grip was tight and it was starting to hurt.

“None of the other maids are available, my Lady, so Sir Murdstone has asked me to come and assist you” You replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible to avoid any further irritation. She huffed and let go of your hand, glaring at you poisonously through the mirror. After a few seconds and a deep breath later, you continued with your ministrations, not wanting to look at her. It felt weird, really. You were with your Lady again but it did not feel right…

“So you’re back to disrespecting me? Were the letters and poems not enough of a mockery for you?” She averted her eyes but you could see that the expression of hurt was back. Your heart clenched with pain seeing her in such emotional distress.

“It was never my intention to mock you, my Lady.” You state quietly, watching her reaction carefully. There was a soft flicker of something unfamiliar on her face. Only for a split second, then it was gone again.

“Then what was your intention?” Jane looked at you again with a dangerous stare. Would you dare tell her? Before you could answer she continued, “I do not know how or when you discovered my affection for the fairer sex but by god, I know you were planning on using it against me. So what was your intention?”

Wait.. what? You stopped your movements and looked at her in disbelief. She just rolled her eyes at your reaction and huffed impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away. It took a second or two for you to collect your thoughts again before you spoke, carefully.

“My Lady… My intentions were nothing but pure.” You start carefully, watching her as her icy blue orbs shoot to look at you. There it was again. That flicker you’ve seen before.

“I can assure you that all of the things I have written are true. I know it is frowned upon but who am I to deny my heart the freedom to feel, to long for.” You gently put the brush down and move to Jane’s side, kneeling on the ground in front of her and looking up at her. Jane’s body has visibly relaxed but her facial expression was unreadable.

“It might not be right, not only because we are women but because I am just a simple maid and you are my Lady… but I simply cannot deny the feelings I have developed for you…”

“You’re… Are you true, y/n?” Jane asked quietly, almost in a whisper. It was obvious to you that she tried to look unbothered but yet she has never seemed so small and fragile as she has in this very moment and you wanted nothing more but to hold her hands, reassuring her of your feelings. Still, you decided to keep your distance, giving her only a curt nod as an answer.

“But… I have been nothing but vicious to you… how,” she looked down into your eyes, hers shining with uncertainty and guilt.

“So you have… But I have also seen you at your most relaxed state, right here braiding your hair, and I felt you were not as cruel as you portray yourself to be. My Lady… It was never my intention to cause you pain or disrespect you, I simply didn’t know where to go with my feelings. I wrote them down because I couldn’t tell you. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same and-” Soft lips suddenly pressed against yours, stopping you in the middle of your sentence. A hand gently placed on your cheek pulled you closer and instinctively your eyes closed shut. To say that she took you by surprise was an understatement. You carefully moved your hand to find her other and squeezed it lightly. An affirmation for the both of you. This caused Jane to deepen the kiss, her lips moving against yours in a heated frenzy of desire which you reciprocated gladly. You knelt there, basking in the affection she was willing to give to you and taking everything in before she evidently changed her mind.

When air became necessary you pulled away, looking up at Jane with a longing gleam in your eyes and heated red cheeks. She looked down at you, her face just as drunk with desire as yours. Chewing on her lower lip, she thought for a second then pulled you up with her. You followed her to her bed like a lovesick puppy, holding her hand tightly in yours, not willing to let go. The desire has spread south and you could feel the well-known warm sensation in your abdomen growing more and more. Jane turned around and looked at you, her eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or disgust but all she saw was you smiling up at her with the sweetest expression she has ever seen. Pure adoration. So there was actually someone who could adore her?

“Is this alright?” She asked as she pulled you closer, still a bit uncertain. Your heart almost burst out of your chest at the gentle nature of the Iron Lady.

“More than alright my La-”

“Jane. Please call me Jane.” She interrupted and your smile grew even more. She couldn't believe how you could look at her like that when she has never said a kind word to you in all the months you have worked for her. Jane wanted to make it right, treat you right and give you the affection she knew you deserved and craved and she was more than willing to give it to you.

“Okay… Jane.” Her name has never sounded so good before and Jane wanted to know in how many other ways her name could leave your lips. She sat down at the edge of the bed and pulled you in, to sit on her lap. You did so without hesitation and moved to cup her cheeks, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. A reassuring tenderness she has never received from anyone before. Jane inhaled deeply at the gentle gesture and moved to hold onto your waist, pulling you into her. She needed you impossibly close. The first few kisses were soft and timid but they soon turned heated. Jane squeezed your waist which caused you to open your mouth in a silent inhale, allowing her to explore your mouth with her tongue. You battled with her for dominance but evidently gave up and let her take control, the thing she does best. Her hands started roaming your body, moving from your waist to your hips and your thighs. Your head was swimming in pure bliss.

A quiet noise escaped your lips as Jane moved her lips to your neck, attacking it with hot open-mouthed kisses and nips. Your hands instinctively shot into her hair, holding close onto her as she assaulted your soft skin with her delicate lips. You couldn’t take it anymore. The aching between your legs has gotten uncomfortably strong and you squirmed against her lap. Jane noticed and gently slid her hands under your dress, running her fingertips over your warm skin, whilst her kisses moved to your ear, gently nibbling on your earlobe.

“Jane… please,” You whimpered out pathetically for the stoic woman beneath you.

“What do you want me to do, my dove?” Jane husked in your ear and smirked as you responded with a strangled groan. She loved how you reacted to her touch, how you reacted to her words. Never would she have thought that she could have precious little you on her lap like this, pudding in her hands.

“N-need you… please,” You breathed out frustratedly, moving your hips towards hers instinctively. You needed her hands on you, all over you, needed her to relieve that ache between your legs. Jane chuckled and removed her hands from your legs, causing you to pout.

“Don’t get impatient, darling.” She smirked and moved to remove your apron and then started unbuttoning your uniform. You took this as a sign to unlace her nightgown, pushing it down her shoulders. Although you have seen Jane's bare chest before when you had helped her dress for the day or undress for bed, this was something completely different. Your eyes were trained on her soft ivory breasts as she finished unbuttoning your garments. She expertly pulled your uniform over your head and tossed it to the side, leaving you in your undergarments. Being way too impatient, you pull the fabric off of your head yourself. Jane smirked at how desperate you were and instantly started roaming your figure again with her hands. Her soft fingertips discover every dip and curve of your body, sending goosebumps over your skin.

“You are so beautiful.” Jane said with bated breath, immediately attaching her lips to one of your nipples. You inhaled sharply as she ran her tongue over the hardened bundle and then sucked it into her mouth again, releasing it with a plop. Without wasting a second, she gave the same attention to the other breast before sitting up straight again.

“Lie down.” She ordered, moving you off her lap. She stood up and watched you lie on her bed, her nightgown now pooling around her ankles, she stepped out of it and climbed in bed with you. Jane lay close to you and pulled you in for a kiss as her hands started roaming your body again, your own hands finding purpose in exploring hers.

You broke the kiss, gasping as you felt Jane run her finger through your soaked folds.

“My, my. Is all of this for me, darling?” She husked and watched your reaction closely, spreading the wetness around, focusing tiny circles on your very sensitive clit. You closed your eyes and inhaled sharply then let out a desperate whimper. Jane was mesmerised by the way your body reacted to her and it aroused her greatly. She teased your clit for a little while longer, watching you writhe and squirm under her. The little noises and pleas coming from your lips and the way you called out her name filled her with pride. It was addicting how she had barely touched you and you were already reacting so much to her.

“J- Jane please… please I need you- ah,” You bucked your hips against her in hopes of more friction. You were so desperate for relief and just wanted her to claim you as hers and who was Jane to refuse? She leaned in, capturing your lips with hers to silence your moan as she slowly pushed a digit into your aching hole. She managed to slip her finger in with ease and started moving it slowly. The feeling of her finger in you was enough to send your head spiralling. You moaned into her mouth and wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer, causing her nude body to almost fully lay on top of you. The sensation of skin on skin had both of you shivering with arousal. She sped up her movements, as soon as she felt that you were ready and pulled away from the kiss, looking down at you lovingly.

“Darling I need you to be as quiet as you possibly can now… Do you think you can manage?” She asked, panting lightly. Her own arousal had started trickling down her thighs. You nodded and opened your mouth in a silent moan as she curled her finger into your sweet spot. Jane smiled and moved to kiss and suckle on your breasts again. The sensation of her finger moving in and out of you and her lips and tongue exploring your chest and stomach made you feel dizzy. She moved her kisses and kitten licks all the way down your body, never halting her movement with her hand until she was positioned between your legs.

Looking up at you, she placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on your thigh, right next to your hot and wet core. Your back arched off the bed and you gripped the sheets, holding your breath before exhaling strongly. Jane moved her kisses closer to your centre, removing her finger and before you could protest she ran her tongue over the length of your folds, collecting the wetness which seeped from you.

She enclosed your clit with her lips and sucked lightly, having you bite your hand gently and groan so you wouldn’t make too much noise. She continued giving attention to your clit with her mouth, slipping two digits into your hole again to curl them upwards. Jane sped up her movements and you felt a knot build in your core. Staying quiet was getting more and more difficult as the tension grew stronger. Jane noticed your struggle to stay quiet. She felt your walls clench around her fingers and knew you were close. Her movements didn't stop, but she pulled away from your clit, reattaching her lips with yours to swallow the sweet noises you made for her.

“That’s it, my girl. You’re doing so well for me! Let go!” She panted against your lips, her praise sending you over the edge with her name on your lips. Jane helped you ride out your orgasm before pulling her fingers out and holding them to your lips. You understood immediately and licked her fingers clean, groaning at your taste on them. Jane watched you intently, pulling her fingers away when the aching between her legs got too much, she couldn’t hold back anymore. She needed you. Jane straddled you, enclosing your head with her toned and strong legs, holding onto the headboard for support. Your mouth watered, seeing her glistening core in front of you. As the scent of her arousal filled your nose, you couldn’t help but whimper in anticipation.

“Be a good girl and make me feel good too, will you?” She said breathlessly, and gently lowered herself to your mouth. You wasted no time, running your tongue through her folds, collecting her desire. Her taste was addicting, and you wrapped your arms around her thighs, pulling her down more. Immediately you went to work on her clit, giving it kitten licks and sucking it gently, causing Jane to throw her head back and let out a guttural groan.

Your hands moved upwards, feeling her warm skin, massaging her soft breasts, and teasing her nipples. Meanwhile, your ministrations on her clit never wavered, causing Jane to roll her hips down onto your tongue. You groaned into her core, letting her ride herself on your tongue however she desired. The sounds coming from her were a mix of obscenities and praises of your name, which sent your head reeling. Shortly, Jane’s legs started shaking, and you moved your hands to support her, holding her in place for you to continue your feasting on her. She was close, and you could hear it. You collected all of your remaining energy to focus on her clit, licking and nibbling. Sucking on it hard one last time caused Jane to come undone on top of you, clasping her thighs around your head, trapping you momentarily as you helped her ride out her orgasm on your face. She released you from her grip and collapsed next to you on the bed, panting heavily.

“You’re aethereal when you come undone like that.” You pant gently and smile brightly when you catch her blush. Jane moved her head to look at you, an affectionate smile spread on her lips as she extended her arms for you. Gratefully you snuggled into her embrace and held her close, resting your head on her chest and listening to her heartbeat, gradually calming down. The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes before you turned your head to look up at her.

“We should probably get dressed again before anyone notices.” She looked down at you, playing with a few loose strands of your hair. You didn’t want to get up, but you knew it was dangerous to stay here for too long.

“We should… but I don't want to.” She smiled and pressed a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“Let's just stay like this for a little longer. I don’t want to let go of you just yet.” Jane smiled and nuzzled her nose into the crown of your head. You were more than content with that decision.

You wanted to tell her you loved her, and let her know how much she meant to you but… this could wait. Most important was that you could enjoy the closeness and calm with Jane, bask in each other's presence, exchange kisses, and whisper sweet nothings to each other until the two of you fell asleep eventually.

-----

Tags: @weemssapphic @pro-weems-places @winterfireblond

#ao3 #reader insert #jane murdstone #gwendoline christie #jane murdstone x fem!reader #fanfic #gwendoline christie fanfics #wlw #queer #sapphic

260 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

Aita for giving a homeless person counterfeit money in exchange for sketchy drugs? And wibta if I confronted them about said sketchy drugs?

💰 So I can find later

Ok so I know it sounds bad so let me give context. The money's not fake fake but pre-destruction so it's real money but the serial number is marked as out of circulation so whenever it's counted using the serial number it gets flagged as sus, but most places just shove it in the register and take no notice

Anyway so basically I usually buy weed from a guy (not homeless and I give him real money) but this particular day he's unavailable and sends me his "friends" number to message so I do. The mystery guy has weed and also discount ket, the weed price is normal but the price of the ket was deeply discounted like half price of what it normally is which is a red flag but have a testing kits so I thought no biggie if the test says it's weird I won't snort it. Anyway I agree to the deal and take real money for the weed and a smaller amount of the "fake" money for ket and go to the location I've been told to. When I get there its 8pm around the back of a construction site with a few tents and people sleeping and the guy dealing is visibly homeless so I buy my drugs and leave. When I get back I smoke the weed, it's all good, but then I use the test kit on the ket I got the colour reaction for coke. Now I don't do coke so I ended up giving it to a friend who does for free (dw I told her about the whole experience) but do I message my dealer being all hey your guy gave me a ket party mix with coke in it instead of pure or should I just forget about it considering I paid for the coke with dodgy cash?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

105 notes · View notes

smicksstuff · 1 year

Text

lets go racing in Jeddah! its the second race of the season and it is packed with twice the amount of drama you could have expected! drama unfolds, trophies passed around like hot potato and secrets spilled like red wine on a white dress. what has yn gotten herself into ? is all this worth it ?

read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here

The PitBox Crew Series

Land of Pizza and Pasta

(f1drivers x yngasly)

a/n: sorry for the google translate french and italian. please note this is a work of fiction.

20 March 2023

yngasly

Jeddah

liked by lancestroll, estebanocon and 982, 792 others

yngasly i guess everyone is an aston martin now ?

view 791 comments

fernandoalo_official Vamos Yn !! 💪🏼

yngasly congratulations on P3 !

fernandoalo_official are you sure?

yngasly congrats to george then ?

yngasly someone help this is more confusing then trigonometry 😫

sharl she is so real for this

pierregasly what is with the memes

yngasly arent they cute !! i love Pear Gasly, gonna be your new contact now 😎

pierregasly no why?!

yngasly why not?

pierregasly at least its better than the current one

pedrogaseoso pls tell us what the current one is !! i need to know !!!

yngasly hint: its his spanish name 😉

pedrogaseoso NO WAY !!! MY USERNAME??! i have made it 😍

formulauno can someone tell me where to sign up to be yn’s friend ?

yngaslyfans SAME !!! drop the signups here 😃

charles_leclerc why am i a red flag ?

yngasly gee i dont know charles, maybe the fact that all my dates ditch me the second they find out i know you ? 😤

charles_leclerc well they weren’t good enough anyways 🤷🏻‍♂️

sharl where can i get a bestie like this ?

lancestroll green is definitely a good colour on you!

liked by yngasly and 67 others

lancelot ummm 👀 je suis pardon ? (translation: im sorry?)

f1fandom not another colour debate 😂

20 March 2023

charles_leclerc added to their story

24 March 2023

yukitsunoda0511 added to their story

26 March 2023

yngasly

Italy

liked by isahernaez, lilymhe, katerinaberezhna and 799, 793 others

yngasly Mi è mancato questo posto! Bello essere tornato ❤️ (translation: i have missed this place! great to be back ! )

view 799 comments

isahernaez come to spain next !! i miss you 😫❤️

yngasly buying my plane ticket to spain after the race!!

carlossainz55 you dont miss me this much 😧

isahernaez i see you too much 🫢

carlossainz55 WOW

isahernaez come on i only see her at races or during breaks ☹️

carlossainz55 fine 😕

isahernaez im planning our date as we speak !! keep a whole day free babes 😘

yngasly you can have the whole week 😉

ybfusername GOD I MISSED YOU SO MUCH !! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

yngasly ME TOO !! 😭😭😭 you need to come to UK next

ybfusername planning my trip to UK rn

landonorris if you need a tour guide, you know who is the best ! 😎

yngasly thanks lando for the offer! @maxfewtrell when are you free ?

landino oh no she did not 😧

maxfewtrell anytime mate! text me and ill bring my chauffeur too 👍🏼 (hint: he drives a mclaren)

quadrantmania not max joining in too

yngasly sounds like a plan 👍🏼

landonorris lando has left the chat

lilymhe im obessed with your outfits babe!! we need to go shopping together soon!!

yngasly awww thanks lils!! i learnt from the queen herself 😉 a shopping date is a need !!

alexalbonfans yn calling lily “lils” my heart 🥹❤️

charles_leclerc 10/10 for the maranello tour

yngasly how are you so sure

charles_leclerc what is your rating then ?

yngasly tour is a 10 but the the tour guide……

carlossainz55 i was so much better

charles_leclerc not trueee

yngasly he made me coffee !!! thats like +10 points

charles_leclerc 😧

yngaslyfans OMG this comment section is getting me pumped for the rest of the season!! cant wait for all the potential dates yn has !! im so excited!!!

emmainmilan this is just a phase. you dont even know the real yn! if you knew her, you would make sure these people dont mix around with her.

yngaslyfans no one asked mate

emmainmilan its just a friendly heads up. i know the real yn, to her this is just a game. when she has got what she wants she will bring them down instantly.

emmainmilan i was one of her closest friends and let me just say she is a real piece of work.

username7 pls i agree, i heard from a friend that yn is such a brat! im amazed her family took her back after all she did

user6 spill what happened

emmainmilan when she moved with her family to italy, it was all great until the passing of AH. she became a wrecking ball after that, she partied all night, skipped school, and did all sorts of nonsense. pierre and her got into many fights and it got to a point they didn’t talk anymore! she would come home black out drunk and she got into many fights in public too. her family kicked her out and she ended up staying with me. after that she dropped out of school and lived off the money in her trust fund.

user6 WTF i can’t believe i looked up to her

emmainmilan it gets worst, one night she got so drunk she got into a fight with a stranger and ended up in the police station, her parents were called and they had to bail her out ! thats the first time they heard from her since she left their family house 1 year before that. man she begged her mum and dad to take her back. and i honestly can’t believe how her mother took her back.

user5 if that was my daughter, i would have left her to rot in the cell. she deserves it.

emmainmilan same! after her parents took her back, she dropped me like a fly and never looked back! honestly she thinks that she can just forget all this but hell nah im not going to allow that.

yngaslyfans PLS STOP! this isnt your story to share ! its hers!

emmainmilan pls i suggest you find a better person to be a fan of, yn gasly is just an entitled brat!!

yngaslyfc Hey Yn!! if you read this, please know that we still love you so much!! and if this is all true, we are proud that you got better !! dont let these nobodies bring you down❤️❤️❤️

liked by yngaslyfans and 69 others

username8 what a suck up!! she doesn’t deserve it

26 March 2023

charles_leclerc

Maranello

liked by yngasly, carlossainz55 and 1, 893, 727 others

charles_leclerc Maranello Tour ‘23 🏎️

yngasly thanks for the tour! got to admit i really liked it 😍

charles_leclerc happy to hear that! what was the best thing ?

yngasly well carlos was amazing and i really liked the coffee and merch! im ready for australia now 😃

charles_leclerc and me ?

yngasly you could learn how to make coffee ?

carlossainz55 give it up charles, she is a chilli fan 🌶️

charles_leclerc 😞☹️

yngasly omg i love both ferrari drivers equally !

sharl when will it be me !!!!!

f1fans charles and carlos need a better friend to be honest. just stick with pierre.

liked by 3789 others

scuderiaferrari thank you for visiting us Yn !! Come back soon! We love hanging out with you ❤️

yngasly Thank you @scuderiaferrari definitely loved hanging with you too ❤️

alpinef1team stop stealing our Yn ✋🏼

yngasly no need to fight, @alpinef1team you will always have me 😉

comments have been limited

27 March 2023

yngasly posted on their story

27 March 2023

carlossainz55 have posted on their story

taglist: @fangirlika @threedalla @sticksdoesart @ophcelia @gothicwidowsworld @nmw-am @h0e-xoxo @inthestars-underthesun @tyna-19 @champomiel @pitconfirmbutton @clcspeonies @67-angelofthelordme-67

credits: all pictures are found from pinterest and instagram

a/n: thank you for reading this far !! If you have any suggestions send them to me!! I would love to hear them ◡̈

if you would like to be tagged when new parts are released, drop your usernames in the comments!! 😁

559 notes · View notes

onigirio · 9 months

Note

Hi! I love ur workk!! :) Could i request percy x child of apollo where hyacinth flowers bloom where they walk and they can summon them? (Yknow, bcz of apollo)

🐝: TYSM! i really liked this concept but i feel like this may be too short...lmk if you want a part 2!

camp half blood was no stranger to miscellaneous flora. after all, it was a camp in a forest, so there was bound to be a lot of plant life. however, recently, percy noticed a drastic increase of a new kind of flower, especially around the apollo cabin.

normally, he would ignore these things since flowers weren't his forté (he left gardening to the demeter kids) but the way the flowers were popping up seemed...too intentional. they formed intricate pathways from cabin 7 to the dining pavilion, or to the shooting range. hades, they were even popping up during capture the flag games!

damn his curiosity, but when percy noticed a new path, how could he not follow it. it's like someone was leaving a trail of bread crumbs for him to follow. the flora went from cabin 7, to the big house, to the dining pavilion. sometimes he would get mixed up with the different paths, but keen ocean eyes noticed that the colours differed from day to day, and today they just so happened to be blue

of course they had to be blue.

it was like the gods were poking fun at him. now everyone was wondering why percy jackson was walking around camp with his eyes glued to the ground. as far as he knew, he was going to get duped. this seemed like the perfect set up for a youtube prank video. fortunately for him, that wasnt the case

the trail of blue flowers led up to the edge of the strawberry fields, and right at the fringes sat someone overlooking the fruit as they baked in the summer heat. percy didn't know whether to be relieved or concerned, because yay! he wasn't getting pelted by eggs or falling into a pit of snakes, but at the same time, he wasn't sure what exactly this meant.

before he could ask the mystery kid about it, they turned around and immediately started blushing and rambling about cleaning and distractions. the ocean eyed boy only caught something about a "stupid sun god" followed by a significant amount incoherent mumbling. when they finished, percy just looked at them with a confused expression and they sighed

"my bad, i thought you were coming to complain about the flowers" they said sheepishly.

percy could only smile, "no, I'm not here to complain I just- decided to follow the weird trail of blue flowers".

this caused them to laugh, a sound that clearly had the ability to make flowers bloom considering the reason he was there. it made his heart run laps in chest.

"they're hyacinths" they clarified, unable to hide their amusement with him, "they bloom wherever i walk, because apollo had a crush on this guy named hyacinthus or something. either way, it's not exactly the best combat ability" they said with a small laugh, and it seemed that today percy's heart decided to be a track star

"If it's any consolation, I think they're very pretty" he took a seat next them, sitting criss cross applesauce as they overlooked the strawberry fields

"thanks bubble brain"

percy quirked an eyebrow at the new nickname they had given him. usually he'd feel a little bit offended, but after seeing the smile on their face, he couldn't help but smile too.

"what? you're that poseidon kid right?"

percy laughed, "well, yeah. does that make you buttercup?"

"they're hyacinths, bubbles" they reminded him with a playful nudge, "and my name is (name), but buttercup is also accepted"

'note to self ' percy thought, 'stop and smell the hyacinths more often'

#pjo #hoo #rio writes 🐝#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #asks! 🌼#pjo headcanon

201 notes · View notes

morallyinept · 8 months

Text

Further to my Pedro Boys & Cocktails Ramble, here are some signature Javier Peña cocktails, inspired by our favourite surly DEA agent.

Again, there are no measurements, so you can make them as strong or as weak as you'd like. 🍹

If you make any, tag me in the pics as I'd love to see your creations. Cocktail images are a guideline reference as to what I would imagine they would look like based on the ingredients, but are not vebatim. Go nuts.

Drink responsibly, folks 🥴

Check out my previous Pedro Boys Rambles.

I'll mention this might be slightly NSFW due to my filthy, potty mouth cussing.

We'll just ignore the fact I've been spelling Laredo as Loredo... 🙃

The drink that started it all. 'The Loredo Legspreader.'

Clear gin, lemongrass, lemongrass syrup, fresh lime juice, red Thai chilli to garnish. Serve with a cigarette and a sour resting bitch face. Sweaty pink shirt optional.

'The Loredo Legspreader - Pink Shirt Version.'

Clear gin, raspberry syrup, pomegranate grenadine, fresh lemon juice, egg white froth to top and a lemon peel twist. Replace egg froth with Javi's own froth, if desired. Sweaty pink shirt mandatory.

'The Resting Bitch Face.'

Vodka, splash of dry vermouth, sugar syrup, pureed strawberries, cracked black pepper, strawberry and mint sprigs to garnish. Pout to your hearts content. Give everyone the finger. Especially Steve. 🖕🏻

'This Cat Pussy Is DEA.'

Tequila Blanco, agave nectar, thyme simple syrup, freshly squeezed orange juice, low cal soda. Garnish with fresh thyme sprigs and an orange slice. Salty rim optional. Don't worry, your pussy will be tangy enough on Javier's tongue, cariño. Miaow.

'Colombian Cunt Licker.'

Red layer: Alizé red passion liqueur, or substitute for any dark red liqueur.

Blue layer: Blue curaçao and lemonade/Sprite.

Yellow layer: Vodka and pineapple juice.

Pour slowly over the back of a spoon for each layer in order of the Colombian flag colours. Top with a pineapple chunk. Cuss wildly when it doesn't fucking work. Say screw it and mix it all up and spread your legs ready for Javier's tongue instead.

'The Papi Chulo.'

Vodka, peach schnapps, raspberry liqueur, pureed raspberries, sugar syrup, fresh lemon juice, raspberries to top. Then go visit your favourite hooker in Bogotá. Take plenty of cash. Get better the more you practice. Aye Papi.

'The Sweaty Javi.'

Gin, splash of tequila, sage bitters, grapefruit juice, freshly squeezed lemon juice, rosemary simple syrup, pinch of salt. Screw up your face with how tart this will taste. Then proceed to lick some sweaty collarbone for a refreshing alkaline relief.

'The Hillbilly Duck Hunter.'

Bourbon Whiskey, stewed and cooled black tea (loose leaf or bagged), citrus oil or lime juice, lime to garnish. Serve over ice. Get your shotgun and go quackers. Fuckin' hillbilly...

'Smoky Leather Jacket.'

Bourbon Whiskey, agave syrup, splash of cherry brandy, black cherry juice, seltzer water, black cherries to garnish. Serve over ice. Smoky and rich, just like that leather jacket. Lapel nuzzling optional, but encouraged. As is thigh riding on Javier whilst you drink it.

'The Peña Tenderloin.'

Bourbon whiskey, dash of orange bitters, peach syrup, peach schnapps, maraschino cherries and a grilled peach slice to top. Drink, then take a bite out of that tight, pert DEA agent ass like a piece of rare meat.

'Downright Un-American.'

Cooled green mint tea, maple syrup, clear gin, splash of apple schnapps, cucumber slices, soda or tonic water, freshly squeezed lime juice, mint leaves to top. Sleep with all the communists you can find and then act appalled about it when questioned.

'Nicotine Kiss.'

Dark rum, simple syrup, fresh lemon juice. Garnish with lemon wedge or peel. Proceed to chain smoke at least forty cigarettes before enjoying.

🖤

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #javier peña #jett's pedro boys #javier peña cocktails #the loredo legspreader #jett has spoken #javier peña narcos #pedro pascal narcos #narcos #javier pena #javi p #javi pena

188 notes · View notes

soulofapatrick · 8 months

Text

Kiss and Tell - Alex Claremont-Diaz x Male Reader

Summary: You and Alex accidentally out your relationship at an international jumping competition

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: heavy make out; being outed

Notes: How are his eyelashes so pretty?! I mean how is he so pretty altogether! And Nick too!

Y/N’s POV

As the sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the sprawling English countryside, I can feel the familiar excitement coursing through my veins. It’s the day of the international equestrian jump competition, where I’ll proudly represent the royal family. The rhythmic sound of hooves against the earth and the fluttering of the Union Jack flags in the breeze create a thrilling atmosphere.

Dressed in my crisp riding attire, I lead my stallion, Indiana Jones, towards the starting point. The adrenaline pumps through me as we approach course of jumps, each one more challenging than the last.

As I focus on the course ahead, I can’t help but glance at the crowd. Amongst the sea of spectators, I spot familiar faces of my fellow competitors, all dressed in their nation’s colours. But there’s one face that stands out, a face that instantly captures my attention. There, sitting in the VIP section with Henry and Bea, is Alex Claremont-Diaz, the First Son of the United States. He’s a vision in his perfect tailored suit, his dark hair is impeccably styled, and his eyes sparkle with excitement as he watches the competition unfold.

For a moment, the world around me fades away as our eyes lock.The intensity of his gaze sends shivers down my spine, and I’m momentarily mesmerised by his presence. It’s as if time stands still as I watch hi, his enthusiasm for the sport and the event itself evident in every expression, despite him not knowing anything about it at all.

As Indiana and I approach the first jump, I can feel Alex’s support from the sidelines, a silent but powerful encouragement that pushes me to do my best. With a deep breath, I guide Indiana over the first hurdle, feeling the rush of exhilaration as we soar through the air. The competition continues and I can’t help but steal glances at Alex, sitting in the royal box with Henry, Bea and June. His presence is a source of motivation, and with each jump I clear, I’m not just competeing for myself and my country but also to impress him.

The jumps come and go, each one presenting its own unique challenge, but Indiana and I handle them with grace and precision. The crowd cheers bled into a distant hum as I focus on the task at hand. It’s a demanding course, but the thrill of the competition pushes me forwards, having always felt freer on a horse than anywhere else in the royal palaces.

Finally, as the last jump is cleared, and I cross the finish line to the thunderous applause of the crowd, a sense of triumph washes over me. I’ve given it my all, and it’s a moment I’ll cherish forever. But, my heart drops when I don’t see Alex in the crowd anymore.

As I ride Indiana out of the arena, a mix of emotions well up inside me. Disappointment tinges my victory as I wonder if I missed my chance to share this moment with him. However, just when I least expect it, I spot Alex leaning against the horse box, a dreamy smile on his face. My heart leaps with joy as I rein Indiana to a halt.

With a gentle pat on Indiana’s neck to reassure her, I prepare to dismount, but before I can swing my leg over her back, Alex steps forwards. “Let me help you down.” He offers, voice soft and inviting. My heart pounds in my chest but nod, my heart races as he approaches. Alex’s large, capable hands find their way to my hips, and with a graceful movement, he lifts me down from the saddle. His touch is firm yet gentle, and I can feel the warmth of his body pressed against my back.

Once I’m securely on the ground, I turn to face him, our proximity now closer than ever. His dreamy smile has transformed into something more intense, a longing that mirrors the desire in my own eyes. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart, and begin to loosen the girth on Indiana’s saddle, the leather creaking softly under my touch. Alex watches me with a quiet intensity, his presence a magnetic force that draws us closer together.

“You look so good in those.” He squeezes my hip, breath hot against my neck and way too close for anything innocent to be assumed.

Suddenly, the click and flash of cameras intrude upon our private moment. The paparazzi have found me, eager to capture me post competition and even more so now that Alex is standing so close to me that there is no plausible explanation other than intimate. Alex’s hands leave my hips, and we both step away, allowing the stable boy to approach and take Indiana from me to cool him down and getting him untacked.

With a glance exchanged between us, Alex and I wordlessly agree to disappear from the prying lenses of the paparazzi. He looks behind his shoulder before offering me his arm with a grin, I do the same, glancing back at the paparazzi who are mostly obscured before I loop my arm with his, letting him lead me away.

We navigate through the bustling crowds, our steps quick and determined. The intensity of the situation electrifies the air around us. The desire for privacy and the magnetic pull between is intensifies with each step we take, both of us needing something more than just our arms locked.

Soon enough, we find a small, windowless room tucked away from he public eye. Without hesitation, Alex tugs me inside, and with a swift motion, he slams the door behind us. I can feel the thud resonate through the wooden door as he presses me against it, his body covering mine and my hands pinned above my head. The sudden closeness between us sends a rush of heat through my veins. Our hearts been in unison, and our breaths come fast and shallow.

With a burning desire that mirrors my own, Alex draws me up into a passionate kiss. His lips meld with mine in a fervent embrace, sending shivers of ecstasy down my spine. The taste of him is intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and longing that leaves me breathless. With equal passion, I respond, our mouths locked in a dance of insatiable hunger.

Having Alex here with me after three long months apart is a sensation like no other. It’s as though the world falls away, leaving just the two of us to revel in this long-awaited reunion. His presence making me feel alive, desired, and utterly cherished.

Alex’s hands, strong and possessive, roam my body with an almost desperate need. They trace the lines of my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My own hands are equally eager, clutching at his shoulders, fingers running through his fluffy hair as I pull him closer, craving more of his touch. Everything makes the room seem to spin around us, a blur of passion and desire as we lose ourselves in each other. Our kisses deepen, becoming a tumultuous symphony of need and longing. The heat between us is almost unbearable, and every touch, every caress, sends waves of pleasure coursing through me.

A strangled sound leaving my throat to me swallowed by Alex when his nimble fingers find the buttons of my jodhpurs, a wicked smile spreads across his lips into the kiss, and I can feel the way he revels in the effects he has on me. His touch is almost maddening slow, each button undone with deliberate intent, driving me to the brink of desire. My body responding eagerly, and I lose myself in the sensations, a man slipping past my lips.

As he gets to the last button, we hear my name being called over the speakers, announcing first, second and third places. Panic courses through me, and we break the kiss with a gasp, sharing a frantic look, realising how screwed we are. In a rush, we disentangle ourselves, and hastily start buttoning up my jodhpurs, our clothes in disarray, and our appearances very obviously post-make-out messy. With no time to fix ourselves, we hurried make our way out of the small room.

The flashes are blinding as soon as we step out, the press obviously having seen us go in somehow. We have no way of hiding the evidence of what’s just happened: our hairs are tousled; lips kiss-swollen and our shirts untucked and crumpled. There’s no denying what just transpired in that private room, and the paparazzi have captured it all. I can already hear the headlines tomorrow: ‘FSOTUS and Prince Y/N - Closet Lovers?’ Or some bullshit like that. My family are going to kill me but honestly? I don’t care because now I hold Alex in public.

I don’t have time to really think about it all as my security details find us and are rushing us through the crowds but one thing I do know for certain is that I'm not going to hide anymore. I don’t care what grandpa has to say or what Philip thinks. I love Alex Claremont-Diaz.

As I come to a sudden stop, Alex bumping into my back, hands instinctively flying to my hips to steady himself. That small, wordless gesture of support is all the confidence I need. I spin around, ignoring his questioning look, and without hesitation, I grab his face and draw him down into a searing kiss. The world around us seeming to pause for a moment as our lips meet in a passionate embrace. The paparazzi’s flashing cameras capture the intensity of the kiss, and a murmur of surprise and excitement tipples through the crowds. For a brief moment, it’s as if we’re the only two people in the world, our love and desire on full display.

When the kiss finally breaks, Alex is grinning down at me, chocolate eyes sparkling with unspoken affection. He draws me into another kiss, but this one is softer, filled with tenderness and a promise of a future where we don’t have to hide. Our lips meeting in a sweet embrace, the softness of his kiss feels like a whispered promise that he’ll stand by my side no matter what happens.

Alex is pulling away too quickly for my liking, his gaze locking with mine, and in a hushed voice, he murmurs, “I love you.”

Hearing those words from his sends a rush of emotions trough me. It’s a declaration that makes my heart soar, a confirmation of the love that has bound us together despite the odds. I look into his eyes, filled with love and sincerity, and I can’t help but smile.

“I love you too.” I reply, my voice filled with so much warmth and affection that it cracks a little.

“Good, now go get your rosette, Baby. You deserve it.”

-------------

Red White and Royal Blue Masterlist

New Tag List Form

TAGS: @clarks-letterman @spencer-reids-wife

#alex claremont diaz x you #alex claremont diaz x reader #alex claremont diaz #Alex Claremont-diaz zx male reader #Alex Claremont-diaz x y/n #red white and royal blue x male reader #red white and royal blue #red white and royal blue x you #rwrb x male reader #rwrb x y/n #rwrb x you #rwrb movie #rwrb #taylor zakhar perez

139 notes · View notes

nerdyandweird · 4 months

Text

Mr.President (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)- Part 3 (Final Part)

This is part three (Final), but you can read part 1 and part 2 here.

Summary: Reader is the daughter of the Plinth family currently studying at a University and has started working for the young President Snow. Story is presumed to be taking place 10 years after the events of TBOSAS. Reader doesn’t know about what Coryo did to her brother Sejanus. Likely the story will divide up to 2 or max. 3 parts since I was planning a one shot, but it ended up being too long and still writing.

Warning: ***A bit of violence and blood in this part, plus some angst as a bonus!***There is a bit of age gap between the reader and Coryo. Since Coryo is the young president, he is currently 28 years old in this fic whereas the reader is a young adult in university so around 20 years old roughly. Plus, Coryo is a whole ass red flag himself.

Weeks went by and you heard nothing from President Snow. You were given a notice that barred you from coming to work temporarily due to the incident at the Gala. In the meantime, you had written your finals and passed every subject with flying colours. But despite everything, your mind went back to him. Was he okay? Did he catch the person responsible for the attack? Why did he not want you around? Was it something you did? Those questions that your brain came up with were starting to drive you insane.

Every second of the day you were thinking back to the president and each time those thoughts crept into your mind, the more they grew and expanded and became even more overwhelming. You were wondering about his whereabouts, his well-being, the perpetrator as well as the reasoning behind his actions. Despite your exams being over, your mind was still thinking back to that night with little to no relief.

But why should you care about him? Especially about Coriolanus Snow out of all the people living in the Capitol. Who even is he to you anyways? He might be the president of Panem, but he took everything from you! Your parents made him the heir after your brother died, not you. You should hate him and his stuck-up attitude! But for some reason, you couldn't. You knew that there was more to Coriolanus Snow than what he showed at surface level to the world, but despite spending months with him, you still couldn't figure him out. Your mind was enslaved by his presence; his smug face and smirk, his haunting cold eyes, his scent which was a mix of cologne and roses, and his gorgeous lips that you almost kissed that night. Your heart automatically fluttered whenever you heard his name from people around you or from the national news on the TV. Your surroundings could not get rid of him even if you wanted to. You were cursed because you liked him despite not wanting to. You liked Coriolanus Snow.

Even with his presence haunting you at every turn, there was no denying that you liked him even if you tried. You hated that fact and desperately tried to make yourself despise his name instead of love, but nothing worked. It was a constant struggle every time to try and suppress your feelings for him because you knew they could never be reciprocated, especially with him being the president. You wanted to hate him and try to move on but when you heard him referenced by the news or your closest friends, your heart fluttered with a mix of both nervousness and excitement.

You sat in the living room, scrolling through the channels on the TV using the remote in your hand while your mother instructed the maid about what to cook for dinner tonight. You were currently on break from the University since your finals were done, and there was no news from President Snow on calling you back to work. Is this his way of firing you? You thought to yourself. But quickly shake off the thought. Surely, he would give you notice if he intended on firing you. Right?

The days without any news felt endless and you could already feel how the boredom was starting to seep into you. Just thinking about the possibility of him potentially firing you made your stomach drop to the ground. You were hoping for news about your return, but you couldn't help but wonder if the lack of communication was a way of getting rid of you. You had a lot of free time, but your mind was still too preoccupied with the thought of Coriolanus Snow to even focus on anything else.

One day you just had enough and telling your mom, that you were going to a friend's house, you slipped out of your home in the late evening to head over to the President's mansion.

The walk to the President's mansion felt like a lifetime with all those thoughts still swirling in your head and despite being in the dark, you couldn't feel any fear as you made that lonely trek. Your mind started to slow down as you started overthinking how this was a bad idea but the urge to see him again took precedence over your logical side.

You reached the gates of the Snow mansion. Before you could enter, the security guards standing there blocked your way while mentioning that President Snow wasn't accepting any visitors at this time. You felt a small shockwave of panic wash over you, but you clenched your hands into fists as you tried to calm down and tried to muster courage as you came up with an excuse to bypass the guards. "I think you don't know who you're talking to. My name is Yura Plinth, daughter of Strabo Plinth. The president knows me very well. I'm sure that you wouldn't want any trouble with my father by denying me entrance. Plus, I also work with the president and he... he needs me." You mention confidently although you were completely anxious on the inside.

Your lie seemed to work as the guard looked away for a moment before looking straight at you with a hint of doubt on his face. It didn't take long before he gave a quick glance to the other guards who all seemed to give quick glances at each other before they stepped aside and let you go through. The lie had worked, and you immediately felt the rush of euphoria over being able to slip past the guards and enter the President's mansion once again.

You let out a breath of relief once you enter the gates and subsequently, pass through the doors of the mansion. You heard voices of men laughing as you snuck inside the entrance doors, the sounds appeared to be coming from the living room. You took slow steps forward and hid behind a pillar as you saw Coriolanus sitting in his living room with three other men, who looked quite powerful.

The three men were dressed in fancy suits, their hairs combed with hair gel all in a similar style, one of them held a cigar between their fingers and a cup of tea in another. While the other two also held similar cups of tea; one of the two displaying a golden tooth in his mouth as he grinned an ugly wide smile at the President. Coriolanus Snow just smiled at the men like they were good friends, while he held a cup of tea between his two hands as well. Maybe this was not a good time after all, you thought to yourself. You weren't exactly expecting other visitors at his house. The three men converse about random things for a couple more minutes while taking sips of their tea. Meanwhile you were thinking of a way to get out of the house without seeking any unwanted attention.

But suddenly Coriolanus' friendly smile transformed into a calculating smirk as he proceeded to take a sip from his cup himself. The three men suddenly started coughing profusely, their lips and mouths overflowed with blood, disgusting sounds of choking and gurgling fills the room. Your eyes watch in horror as the colour of their skin changed to a light shade of blue. Coriolanus' smirk gets only wider as he watched the men in front of him suffer, not doing anything to change their already doomed fates. He watches them struggle to breath and fight for life, but it was futile because the poison had already completed its course. Eventually, the men succumbed to the effects of the poison, and their bodies remained completely still. The room was filled with a deadly silence.

Coriolanus put his cup of tea down as he started coughing as well, but he just took out a white handkerchief from the front pocket of his grey cuffed shirt that already had a white rose tucked in it as well. He used the cloth to wipe away some of the blood that was coming from his mouth, but his face remained unphased by it as he wiped away the blood. The white cloth was now tainted a murderous crimson red. His lips matched the colour of handkerchief with a slightly darker shade as his lips still had a tinge of blood on it, but his face now held a dark expression as he looked at the dead bodies in front of him while he sat on his sofa, perfectly composed and relaxed.

The scene in front of you was so traumatizing that you couldn't help but feel yourself freeze in your tracks as you sat there behind the pillar watching the whole thing happen. The three men who were once laughing and seemed to be having a good time with the president were now dead and Coriolanus was acting as if it wasn't a serious thing at all. You felt sick to your stomach as you watched him casually cleaning the blood stains off his mouth and just sat there on his sofa looking at the deceased bodies with a blank cold expression.

You had to leave. You told yourself. Your fingers trembled in fear as you took slow steps backwards, but your plan immediately failed when you collide against a vase holding white roses and it falls on the ground with a crash. The sound immediately catches Coriolanus' attention, and his gaze falls on top of your frightened form.

You were completely stunned and speechless with fear now because you had been caught and you had no idea what would happen next. You had been seen and it seemed as if you were in complete danger. Coriolanus' gaze was on you and every second you stood there it was as if his stare was burning a hole through your body because you felt so uncomfortable and so scared at the same time.

You remain completely still as he took slow steps towards you. Your mind told you to run, but your feet remained in one place as if they were submerged in cement. Your chest felt heavy with fear, and your breaths quickened whereas your mind tried to come up with ways to escape, but you just couldn't do anything. Your hands remained in tight fists, and you could feel your nails pinching hard into your skin leaving marks. You almost wished that this was a nightmare that you could awaken from, but it just became more horribly apparent that this was all real when you felt the chilly air of his breath cast upon you as he came to stand in front of you, his figure towering over yours, making you feel small. Like a prey in front of his predator.

With your body completely frozen you just stayed where you were and hoped he would pass you and not do anything else. Your breath was quick and shallow as your mind raced through millions of possibilities of what he was about to do. Coriolanus didn't speak a word as he stood there looming over you, but you could see his eyes and the way they were glued onto your face made your stomach flip.

His head leaned down towards you as he opened his mouth to speak, his breath smelled like blood and roses, making you scrunch up your nose in disgust, but you couldn't do anything to move away. "What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice textured in a scary dark tone.

The smell of blood and roses overwhelmed your senses almost making you retch from his breath seeping into your nose the moment he asked the question. With your mouth slightly opened, you couldn’t say a word as your eyes remained glued on his. The smell of blood was so grotesque that your stomach started to turn, and you felt nauseated as you tried to focus your mind on something other than everything that was happening, but it was just too much.

But at the same time, his voice seemed to have broken the trance you were in as you come to your senses and immediately turn around to sprint towards the door to escape.

The moment the spell was broken, and your focus was back, you tried looking for ways to leave the living room and the mansion immediately. You sprinted forward with the intent to get away from him, but he was swift enough to grab your wrist and stop you before you got too far. You immediately froze and felt a surge of panic start running through your body again as you tried to pull away from his tight grip.

"Let go!" You screamed, as you began to hyperventilate, but his grip only tightens in return no matter how much you hit and scratch his skin in attempts to make him let go. His face wears a look of irritation and a bit of anger of having to deal with you, but he just uses his strength which effortlessly pulls you into him. His other arm wraps around your waist securely to keep your body against his while the other still grasps your wrist tightly.

You tried to wriggle free, but it was no use as he pulled you in towards him and held you securely in his grasp. His hold was tight and strong as he seemed to have no intention of letting you go. His touch felt cold and damp because of the blood that was staining his white coat and white rose that was stashed in the coat pocket. Your chest felt like it was constricting completely, and it was getting difficult to breathe as he pressed his body against yours with a firm grip towards your wrist.

He still maintained his stoic expression, his hair perfectly made, and he remained like a true politician to you. Cunning and calm. You eventually stopped moving as you looked him in the eyes, feeling scared since you could only find a blank stare, you glanced down at his lips which were stained with crimson blood, and you just felt repelled, disgusted with yourself that you shared feelings for this person. This monster that held you in his grasp.

Your eyes darted down to the blood that was staining his lips and for a moment you could swear that you could see a smug smile spreading across his face as if he liked the way you reacted to his lips. Your body felt cold as he tightened his hold on you but then he suddenly began to lean in close towards you.

You only leaned your head backwards in response.

Your eyes remained glued to his as he slowly leaned closer to you to the point that you could feel his breath against your skin now. His breath was so heavy that it was hot and made you want to gag. Your eyes were frozen in place until his face was inches away from your own. He brought his face so close that his lips were almost touching your own.

"Stop." You said in a hoarse voice, his lips lightly brushing against yours and the tip of your nose lightly touched his. You looked up at his eyes again and clear your throat. "And let. Me. Go." You demanded, emphasizing each word carefully.

Coriolanus pulled back slightly as his lips moved away from yours, but his stare remained fixed on yours as if he was examining every single detail of your face. His eyes looked like two piercing needles directed towards your eyes as he spoke slowly and in an oddly charming voice. "Let you go?" he repeated with a smirk on his face. "My dear, why would I do that?"

You were at lost for words at the unexpected response from him. It was ironic that in this situation, he was trying to charm you. You were nervous tripping over your words as you tried to maintain your composure while still being in his arms. His handsome face holding a wicked smile, taunting you, but you still repeated your words, nevertheless.

Coriolanus laughed softly at how taken aback by his response you were and how his mere words and presence completely made you uneasy. He leaned his face down towards you once more as his voice lowered and became slightly more seductive. "Oh, my dear," he slowly spoke as he ran a single finger across your lips, "I have every reason in the world to keep you here with me."

A chill ran down your spine, and it was pathetic the way your body reacted to him. It was like a fly caught in a spider web. There was absolutely no way out of this. "You're a murderer." You state the obvious.

Coriolanus remained silent and still before he chuckled softly and let his free arm wander down and rest against your hip. "There are many ways to look at my actions," he began to say as he spoke slowly and softly yet seductively again, "in some's eyes, I might be called a murderer, sure. But I am simply a man doing what needs to be done to ensure peace and an orderly country."

You scoff at his reasoning to defend his actions as you continue to struggle against his grip. "How exactly is murdering people however you want an act of peace?"

Coriolanus was amused to see that you were trying so hard to get away from him and he just couldn't help but smirk in excitement and pleasure. He looked down at you as he leaned in closer once more and spoke quietly yet firmly. "My dear," he began to say slowly as he spoke in a way that almost sounded soothing, yet you could feel the tension and the danger in the air, "there are some people that deserve their punishment for what they have done."

"And what exactly did these people do to be punished." He smirked in delight as you asked him this question. "I don't exactly need to explain my reasons to you, but I won't lie to you. Remember the attack on me on the night of the Gala? Well, these fools had a part to play in it, and so they've had to pay the price." He leaned forward, his lips pressed against your ear as his voice lowered into a tender whisper. "Remember my dear, Snow always lands on top."

Coriolanus' words sent a chill down your spine as he leaned in towards your ear and began to whisper softly with such a sensual and almost dangerous voice that made you feel like he was going to kiss you. When you listened to his words, they sounded quite convincing and almost as if every justification he had given you was true. Your heartbeat fastened and it almost felt like you could get lost in this moment with him if you wanted to.

But when you looked in his eyes, there was a strange glint that you just couldn't figure out. He looked at your lips again and leaned towards them. His nose brushing past yours as his lips came closer. You could feel the heat of his breath against your nose and face as he was just inches away from your lips. His lips felt like they were about to brush past yours again and it made your heart beat even faster as your breath started to become more shallow and less controlled.

"Coriolanus?" You whispered, hesitantly saying his first name, and not calling him in a formal manner like you normally do.

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow as he heard you whisper his first name. It made his eyes spark with curiosity as he looked down at you with a smug and amused expression. He chuckled softly and continued to hover his lips nearby you and it was as if he was almost enjoying the anticipation more than the actual act itself.

The sudden question had arrived in your mind as quickly as the regretful words left your mouth. "Did you have something to do with my brother's execution?"

Coriolanus froze for a split second with his lips hovering close towards you as your question seemed to halt his movements for a moment. You could see the smirk on his face begin to disappear as his expression turned cold and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes," he finally answered bluntly, "yes I did."

You were at loss for words because of his confession and simultaneously with his subsequent actions when he connects his lips with yours, kissing you deeply.

Coriolanus' lips felt warm and almost too perfect as he forcefully kissed you like your body was some type of possession that he could have and use whenever he wanted to. His grip tightened as he pushed his body even closer towards you and his tongue began to enter your mouth. The kiss was so abrupt and aggressive that you could hardly react fast enough to what he was doing.

You felt disoriented because of him. You try pushing him away, but he continues to force himself on you.

Coriolanus' grip remains firm and tight as he pulls your body closer to him while his lips continue to move roughly against yours. The aggression that he displayed was unlike anything you could have imagined as his hands begin roaming all over your body.

Eventually, you find yourself giving in and you kiss him back, your hands holding onto his shirt between your fingers as his hand that was holding your wrist lets go to grip your hips.

Coriolanus seemed so caught up in the kiss that you felt as if you could do anything that you wanted to do to him. His arms wrapped around you, and he pushes you back against a wall while one of his hands leaves your hip to move around your waist once more. His hands start to roam all around you as his tongue continues to slip into your mouth while you could feel his body slowly pushing you up against the wall.

He uses the wall to his advantage, as he keeps you pressed against it with his body, His palms placed on the walls on either side of your body as he continues to kiss you passionately.

He doesn’t seem to mind how his body pinned against your and seemed to push you further in the wall. His hands hold you in place and his tongue continues to probe deeply inside your mouth. Even though you knew that what he was doing was wrong, you couldn't deny how hot it was either.

His lips momentarily leave yours to catch your breaths. Both of you panting heavily from what had just happened. Your face turns into a shade of pink upon an unbelievable realization of what you just did. His eyes had changed into a darker shade than the one before as they remained focused on you.

Coriolanus leans back slightly from the kiss, and you could see a smug and cruel smile on his face as you meet his cold and calculated stare. He smirks as the realization of what had just occurred sinks into your mind, and in that moment, he looked like even more of a predator than ever before. The smile on his face continues to grow larger as he runs his fingers through your hair.

You were a despicable person. You think to yourself. You just made out with a person who had played a part in your brother's death. What kind of person were you? On the other hand, another part of you didn't believe that what you just did was wrong at all. After all, Sejanus was already dead. Coriolanus was still alive and more importantly, he was the president. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't do anything against him. The odds would still be in his favour, and he wouldn't need to do much at all for you and the rest of your family to have the same fate as

Sejanus.

Coriolanus' smug and cruel smile slowly shifts into a sadistic look as he saw your face turn into one of panic and regret. He holds your waist firmly with one hand and uses his other hand to gently cup the back of your head. Your breathing begins to accelerate and your heart starts to beat even faster as a rush of fear and insecurity washes over you. Coriolanus knew that he had complete and utter authority over you after what you just did, and this knowledge seemed to turn him on even more.

"I need to go." You said firmly, you licked your bottom lip, feeling a bit of metallic taste on it and then you realized that its Snow's blood from his lips that had transferred to you from the kiss.

Coriolanus didn't respond or utter a word and he simply gave you a subtle smirk as if he was expecting you to try to run away from him after what happened. His grip remained firm as he lifted your face back up towards his and his eyes were full of such an intense thirst for control. When you licked the metallic taste from your bottom lip, Coriolanus' eyes followed your movement, and he smirked once more as his face got even closer towards yours.

"My parents are probably wondering where I am. So, I must go." You try to explain.

Coriolanus chuckles softly and continued his hold on you as he places a gentle kiss on your cheek like he was completely mocking you. "Your parents?" he repeated softly with a sadistic and smug smile slowly spreading across his face. His eyes wanders all over your body as he continued to hold you hostage against the wall.

You nod. "I told them that I would be here to ask you about my job status." You lied. "So, if I stay here too long, they might just come here looking for me."

Coriolanus' eyes begin to glow with excitement and amusement as he lifts his head once more and moves his face very close towards yours again. His stare was intense, penetrating yet oddly seductive and he leans into you again as his lips kiss your neck softly yet intimately. "And just what makes you think that I would even let you leave?"

"I'm a Plinth after all, I can't just disappear from the Capitol. People would know."

Coriolanus' eyes widens and sparkle with even more amusement and excitement as his lips pause their journey down to your neck. His grip on your body remains firm as his lips move towards your ear and his voice turns into a whisper once more. "And you don't understand just how precious you are to me."

His words made you feel warm and excited on the inside even though they shouldn't. You couldn't trust him. Right? "If I'm precious to you then why were you ignoring me for weeks? Ever since the Gala, you haven't spoken to me. You've completely shun me." You said, trying to change the topic.

Coriolanus' expression turns more smug and cruel as he lets his hands wander up into your hair and his grip tightens, the pull tugging your scalp slightly. He continues to speak in a soft whisper. "You wouldn't understand my reasons for doing so and that's exactly why I did it. You see it's just another one of the many ways I possess control over you."

"Did you think I was responsible for the attack? Is that why?" You asked, persistent in knowing his answer.

Coriolanus takes a step back and turns his head slightly before responding to your question finally with arrogance dripping from his words and tone of voice. "I know that you weren't responsible for the attack, but I felt it best to distance myself from you for a while until the whole situation died down."

"But why?"

Coriolanus' eyes flashes with annoyance as he looks at you with a look that you couldn't quite decipher. "Because I thought it was best to. Why do you think that I have to explain myself to you?"

You quickly shut up from fear of angering him since you didn't want to risk facing any sort of consequences that you would soon end up regretting. "What are you going to do with me now? Will you kill me for witnessing your murders?"

Coriolanus' eyes narrow and he slowly begins to lean into you once more with that wicked and almost sadistic look on his face. "No," he whispered softly, not taking the threat too seriously and enjoying the fear and uneasiness that you were beginning to exhibit. "Your death would be a waste for me, and I have a better use for you."

You don't dare ask him any further questions because you no longer wanted to know anything else. "It's getting late. I must leave now. When should I come to work again?" You ask, trying to be normal like none of this ever happened.

Coriolanus gives you a gentle and light kiss on the lips before he finally lets you go completely. "Tomorrow at 9 am. Don't be late. You'll need to be there early before anyone can see me talk to you again," he instructed, maintaining that smug and self-satisfied look on his face as he spoke to you.

"Yes. President Snow. I promise to be on time." Those are the last words you say to him. You give one last look to him and turn around to walk out of his house, but as you turn around, you get glimpse of the dead bodies again making you shudder inside quietly as you make your way outside of the Snow mansion. Coriolanus’ gaze follows the curve of your back with his eyes one last time before you stepped out of the mansion and slowly made your way back home. Your face was filled with all sorts of emotions, fear, anger, confusion, betrayal and disgust.

You walk back home slowly, reflecting on everything that happened today and trying to forget about it. Tomorrow will be a new day, and you will ignore everything the president does with a blind eye and will continue to do that for the future as well.

***Few years later***

Few years later, you were now in charge of handling your Plinth family business and were a significant part of the Capitol elite society. You no longer worked with President Snow, but still saw him at parties and other social events. You were working in your office when you suddenly received an invitation card delivered by your assistant. You opened the envelope, and you saw a card invitation to an engagement party. A couple days go by, and you arrive at extravagant engagement ceremony being taken place at the Snow mansion. You see him again, dressed in a fitting black suit which narrowed at his waist, showing off the outline of his fit body. His blonde curls were combed to perfection, and his mouth twisted in a smirk when his haunting blue eyes find yours.

You couldn't take your eyes off him. Everything about him, from his sharp and piercing gaze to his elegant and stylish attire, seemed to exude an aura of dominance and authority that just couldn't be ignored. His blue eyes met yours as he gave you that haunting smirk and, in that moment, the tension in the air was nearly palpable. You had no desire to be anywhere but, in his arms, and although he had already captured your heart and mind, you couldn't help but still feel slightly cautious.

The engagement ceremony takes place, and you can feel your chest tighten when he places the engagement ring on the finger of Livia Cardew, who gloated at the sight of the diamond ring. A tear falls from your eye when she does the same to him, but you quickly wipe it away to not get noticed by anyone. You had known this man inside and out, you knew how terrible of a human being he was, you knew what he was capable. But, despite all of this, why did it still hurt you to see him with someone else? Maybe you deserved it because after you had witnessed all his wrongdoings and still decided to ignore them. After everyone clapped for the new "happy" couple, you decided to exit through the crowd to leave the party. You were starting to feel sick.

You watched the guests at the luxurious and extravagant engagement party congratulate the president and his fiancé gleefully as your stomach churned and the sick feeling slowly took hold of your body. You felt as if the world was crumbling around you as you watched him start a new chapter in his life with someone else. Why was this so hard to accept? Why did the feelings of betrayal and rejection slowly begin to seep their way into your heart and mind as you slowly made your way throughout the crowd and out of the mansion?

You hear his voice call out your name once you were near the gate and you slowly turn to face him.

Coriolanus was still wearing that smug and confident look on his face as his eyes traced every inch of your face. His lips curled into a small smirk and the blue of his eyes had an almost mesmerizing quality to them. You couldn't help but feel completely drawn to his presence and your heart began to beat quickly as he approached you.

You gave him your best smile in return to keep up with the facade that you weren't at all affected by this. "Congratulations President Snow."

Coriolanus gives you that same small and smug smile. "Thank you," he says calmly. His expression turns to one that was more serious than before as he continues to speak to you in a very soft and subtle tone. "Before I let you leave...I need to ask you something."

You nod, waiting for him to continue.

Coriolanus leans forward slightly towards you without breaking eye contact as his hand comes up to gently tuck a lock of hair away from your face and behind your ears. "Are you going to continue to accept me and keep my secrets," he asks softly, his look becoming almost like a demanding challenge. You couldn't help but stare deep into his hauntingly blue eyes as he waits for your response.

You scoff. "I no longer need to do that, Mr.President. You are no longer my responsibility. So, I think it's best that we keep our affairs separate." You state in a firm tone.

Coriolanus leans back and his eyes narrow a bit as he processes your answer. "Oh?" he replied softly like he was testing you in one way or another. "And here I thought I could trust you fully."

"So did I. But unfortunately, you have failed to meet those expectations. And it somehow fits because it's the things we love the most that destroy us." You say with a small smirk. Your voice mellows into a quieter tone. "I wish you a good night, President Snow." And with that, you turn around and leave him alone with his thoughts.

Coriolanus looks completely stunned and caught off guard by your sudden attitude and the words you spoke to him. He wasn't used to people challenging him and especially not people telling him that he has failed to meet their expectations. He watches you as you make your way out of the gate, and he wants nothing more than to tell you to come back and continue to plead for you to stay in his life. However, he forces himself to stay silent and allows you to leave.

[The End]

***Thank you so much for reading! Hope you liked the ending although it’s a bit sad, but I feel like in the longer the reader would be much happier not being involved with someone like Snow. I know we love him! But I try to stay as true to the character as possible while writing and I hope that I did justice with his character and the reader’s as well! To be honest, multiple different endings were going through my head, some of them with Snow killing the reader. I mean I wanted a tragic ending, but not too extreme. LOL. Even though Snow is quite extreme, and one doesn’t know what might rile him up that will end up with the other person dead. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! :) ***

86 notes · View notes