#and also it was dry as fuck in spain

[puddingcatbeans]

gods the human body is a fucking nightmare. let me out

[cherry-leclerc]

lolita ☆ cs55

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

word count: 14.9k

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

nsfw warning under the cut!

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

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

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

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

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

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

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

Where Paradise met Hell.

-

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

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

You liked them older.

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

And that’s a story for later.

-

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

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

And your older sister, Ollie? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Papi, how are you?”

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

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

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

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

“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-

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

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

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

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

“I am so, so, sorry.”

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

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

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

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

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

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

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

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

Wait.

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

No, no, no.

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

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

What was so fucking special about her?

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

“How’s school?”

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

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

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

“What do you do for work?”

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”

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

“I might.”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

7 years.

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

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

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

“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”

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

“Calling him wh- Papi?”

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

“Forget it. How would I know?”

-

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

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

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

“Not having fun?”

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

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

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

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

You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.

“You know the groom or the bride?”

“Bride.”

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

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

“It is. Thank you for caring.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you around?”

“See you around, Maxie.”

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

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

“Nothing that should concern you.”

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

“Right. Have a good night.”

-

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

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

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

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

“Ouch.”

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

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

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

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

“When was this taken?”

“The day of our engagement.”

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

Fuck her, honestly. 

“Why’d you propose?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should leave.”

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

“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”

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

He’s fucked. 

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

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

“What are you doing up so late?”

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

“First time?”

“No. It’s just been a while.”

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

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

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

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

“You know what you remind me of?”

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

“A Lolita.”

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

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

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

-

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

“Why’d you do it?”

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

“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take care, Carlos.”

-

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

“What are we talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The fuck - Are you crying?”

“What do you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We probably shouldn’t-

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

“You and him…”

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

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

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

But now you did.

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

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

-

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

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

“How are we all doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not a word of this to Carlos.”

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

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

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

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

“He won’t believe you…”

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” 

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

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

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

Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”

-

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

You hated her.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you blush.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I always find you alone.”

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

“Ah. I see.” 

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

“About?”

“Marrying a monster.”

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

“You were thinking of quitting?”

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

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

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

“Want to dance?”

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

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

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

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

“Mentirosa.”

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Carlos.”

-

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

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

“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”

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

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

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

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

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

Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

“You’re fucked up.”

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

“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking delicious.”

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

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of cours-s-e.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you-”

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

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

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

“How about mine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know it’s always been for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

And that was only going to multiply.

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

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

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

“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”

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

He adds a fourth digit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Light of my life. Fire of my loins.

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

“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”

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

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

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

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

“Will you fuck me now?” 

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

“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”

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

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

“Then you should be fucked as such.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh God.”

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

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

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

The keys for the gate to Heaven.

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

“Does that feel good, bonita?” 

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

In this moment; he looked immortal.

“Carlos, I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

-

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

“You may now kiss the bride!”

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

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

“Nice ceremony.”

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

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

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

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

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

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

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

“Good to know.”

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

“Like you care.”

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

“What does this have to do with anything?”

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

No.

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

It can’t be. 

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

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

“What do you want from me?”

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

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

“Ollie, don’t…”

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

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

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

“Ollie, please…I love him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Carlos!”

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

“Coming.”

-

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

“¿Bonita?”

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

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

As red as your dress.

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

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

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

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

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

None of it mattered anymore.

[takotakigum]

star — itoshi sae.

characters: itoshi sae × gn!reader

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationships, heavy codependency, burnt out sae, word vomit, sae is an idiot that’s too in love, and sae who’s emotions are all over the place.

word count: 2.3k

synopsis: the world itoshi sae once envisioned is so hazy, barely non-existent anymore. and it’s all because of you.

note: the nicknames/callsigns "mi amor" and "mi vida" mean "my love" and "my life".

aged up characters | please read at your own risk!

my singular interest is becoming the best in the world—is something itoshi sae remembers saying to someone with much conviction.

oh, how he lies.

sae reminds himself to never let his mouth speak such nonsense driven by his now crippling ego. sae wants to go back in time, tell that stupid interviewer that he doesn’t care about being the best in the world if it means being the only one in your universe.

itoshi sae fell in love, to put it simply.

his singular interest is you. it doesn’t matter when, where, or what happens—it’s only you, the one and only other piece of his dull soul. when sae loves you, he feels it overwhelmingly all over him, too. he feels his body tingle with tenderness, he hears his breath shudder when talking to you, and so much more. at first, it was weird. although after a long run? it became addictive.

he longs for you in every way, even if you’re already his. sae doesn’t quite understand why, but he also feels like it also doesn’t matter; because he deeply misses your soft giggles that warm his neck when you’re too close to him, he misses your scent—fuck, he misses everything about you. so, naturally, sae feels like his heart is being ripped apart with every flight he has to take back to spain. during many occasions, sae almost begged you to go to him: interlocking your hands together until he reaches the entrance of the airport, not bothering to let go until you have to pry yourself away from him; and even staring sadly into your eyes with the faintest pout on his lips.

perhaps—no, sae is fairly certain about this—being away from you is one of the most agonizing things he has to experience in this life of his. sae wishes to curse his soccer team, his manager, or even anyone who arranged such a game far from home. or rather, far from you.

you’re so far away; he’s in his lukewarm apartment in spain, while you’re in your homey abode in japan. it sucks in his bedroom here. it’s awful, boring, and you-less. his bedsheets are soft, sure, but nothing will compare to the feeling of hugging your waist and burying his face into your soft skin. he takes a deep breath—it could be that he’s merely dreaming this boring setting, when you’re really lulling him to sleep—that’s why he’s stuck in it, yeah. yeah no…fuck, again, sae misses you far more than his patience could handle.

tiredly finding his phone on his mattress, his hands find its way to your contact in an instant, and he calls you. timezones be damned, because sae can’t take it anymore.

“shit,” sae feels his lips twitch, wanting to let an amused breath be heard by you over the phone. “uhh…hello?” it seems that only now do you think you’ve picked up the phone, voice dry of sleep.

“i love you.”

“huh?”

“i also miss you.”

“sae?”

“hi,” sae’s voice is muffled by his pillow, his face burning up as it still hasn’t adapted with his slippery tongue pouring affection onto you. “what’s wrong? it’s…uhm, 4am here, you know?” your voice is much clearer now, and it’s accompanied by a loose giggle into the phone’s speaker. sae knows you have an answer to your own question, he’s that obvious. “mn. sorry. i-” sae’s heart beats louder and faster when he hears your giggle once more become a tune to his ears. “love me? miss me?” you complete his thoughts, and sae holds onto every second of it. he hums quietly, nodding guiltily even if you couldn’t see it. “‘s okay calling me, sae. but i’m a bit sad right now.” your voice acts, and sae practically sits up his bed, phone pushing harder onto his ear to hear what’s happening.

“did something-”

“mhm, i was dreaming about you, and then…you woke me up.” you groan rather loudly, however, easing some weight on sae’s shoulders. “sorry for that too, mi amor.” he apologizes like he’s committed a sin; although deep in his heart that’s all for you, it probably is considered a crime. “fine. but do know that it’s suuper unfortunate.” sae’s heavy sigh of relief widens the smile on your face. god, the tension of amusement on your end is enough to be felt by sae—who knows what sae would do to see you with that pure smile right now.

“is it really unfortunate now? was the itoshi sae in your dream better than me? your real boyfriend, speaking to you right now?” instinctively, sae pouts as his eyebrows twitch to furrow, hoping for the answer his childish self wants. “hmm,” sae’s jaw slackens in disbelief, did you really have to think about it? his pout worsens, he can’t believe you had it in you to tease him when you’re probably half asleep, although, he may or may not really mind. “i like the sae in my dream better, maybe.” sae now scoffs, rolling his eyes pathetically. “mi vida, why are you like this?” sae questions, but that doesn’t particularly matter. at least, not when despite anything your personality gives him, he’ll accept.

“aren’t you curious, though?” you continue to tease.

“hmph. of course i am.” and sae’s adoration for you continues to indulge.

“remember when you took me on our first date?” your voice goes softer now, fond of the memory and storytelling. “do you think i’d forget?” how could he, though? how could sae forget how he regretted planning such a boring date—all because he didn’t think he’d fall into such a deep trench to love you? “c’mon, don’t be so down now, sae. it’s a good dream, promise.” it’s most likely, because as you’re thinking of the words to say, sae hears your covered yawns consecutively.

“felt like i relived our first date, you know? really nostalgic. we were walking out of the convenience store late november with a bag filled with your favorite popsicles.” your dream is spot on already. sae’s heart beats a little faster again. “then, we went to your favorite spot by the sea. it was extra cold, too. but we still ate the popsicles.” you laugh, warming sae’s thoughts as he reminisces about the chilly winds of the evening that you dared not complain about. instead, sharing countless of frozen popsicles sae still feels numbing his tongue with the kindest, most precious smile he’s ever seen.

“yeah, i remember that. why’s the sae in your dream better, then?” you’re a bit silent, as if unsure of what to explain.

“mi amor?” you only hum, still thinking about it, it seems.

sae gulps slowly—anxiously. because sometimes, itoshi sae wonders deep in his complex emotions that he’s weary of.

“mhmm, i’m still here.”

sometimes, itoshi sae wonders why out of all the people that could’ve and should’ve treat you better, you decide he’s the one.

“it’s just that, i guess i missed having you around right beside me? ah, but i think i’m just speaking nonsense, it’s almost past four thirty.” you don’t spout such things as nonsense, anything you have to speak about, sae withholds with utmost seriousness.

right now, itoshi sae is at that spiral of sudden insecurity.

“you- i’ll go home as soon as i can.” sae mutters, voice wavering as a part of him is scared. of what? losing you? a bit childish, still. he knows you’ll understand, everything and anything he’ll go through. it’s why he fell in love so deeply in the first place. you’re the first person to give him back the amount of love he never knew he was even capable of. don’t leave now: his heart whispers.

“sae, wait,” he can’t hear you, at least, not when his senses are fully enveloped in the listing of available flights back to japan as soon as possible—at 2am in spain in a bit looks promising enough for him.

“sae, listen to me first? you’re not going back here yet, you still have a game next week.” you remind him, but sae doesn’t care. “that doesn’t matter, current team i’m with is pretty shit. anyway, i miss you a lot, too. so it’s alright.” sae feels his stubbornness root from his core and out all across his body, and he feels guilty.

“itoshi sae.” just before sae could click his booking of the plane ticket, your stern voice halts his actions. a thin coat of sweat heats his palms as he fidgets with one finger. “mad?” he asks, throat clenched. “no, not at all. just, let’s talk, okay? promise me you’ll listen.” sae hears movement from your line, you’re probably beyond serious right now, sitting up on your bed, back resting on your headboard as your eyes look at the ceiling. “…sure.” it’s a promise.

“you know why you’re in spain, right? to pursue your dream—your passion, sae.” he wants to shake his head and deny everything, he wants to tell you to not continue any longer, because eventually, sae wouldn’t even know what to answer. “and i’m here back home, because i also have my dreams here. you understand that, don’t you? you miss me, and i miss you—that’s so normal, because i love you and you love me back, right? you’ll come home when you can, but not now,” why? is something sae wants to ask. “not now when your goal is right in front of you.” no—you’re not right on that one. “you don’t have to forfeit anything related to your dreams for me, you know that. i’ve told you that, yet you’re still as stubborn as ever, huh?” you let out a breath, your voice is neutral yet still heavy of sleep in hopes to reach him.

sae isn’t giving anything up, truly, he is not. his career from soccer has already gone shit, anyways. ever since he’s given up being the worlds best striker, he’s felt empty; trying to compensate with his new, still shitty, ambition of being the best midfielder there is. realistically, sae can’t give anything great up when everything is already lukewarm in his life.

however, in this life of his with only you matters; when the circumstance is him defying you as his sole dream—then, he has nothing to lose.

“i would quit football for you.” sae whispers, shocking not only you, but himself at the bluntness.

“you wouldn’t.” sae knows he shouldn’t, because you wouldn’t like that.

“i would, if you wanted me to.” rationally, he’s an idiot to say such things. because all his life, itoshi sae has been so inhospitable, never understanding certain lengths people would go through for another. all his life, he’s never felt like this. the version of himself three years ago—the him who stated that he has no other interest aside from being the best in the world—would curse him off, never to accept this current state of his. even though sae knows how to act, he throws out all that rationality when it’s you he’s thinking of.

to quit soccer for you? he would fucking do.

but is it for his own selfishness? he doesn’t know.

“i don’t want you to.” he knows. your voice a tad bit disappointed at him, and he’s a tad bit disappointed at the answer. “you can’t just throw everything out for me, sae. i wouldn’t like that.” reluctantly, sae closes the tab for booking flights with your low voice looming over him. “why? would you rather me be in spain for who knows how long?” sae tries to humor, although his voice falls far too seriously once more.

“i’d rather have you here with me. but…” sae’s breath hitches, clutching on his phone harder, eyes moving too much.

“but?” please, his heart begs, be something he’ll want to hear. tell him to go back to japan, tell him to leave everything behind in spain. please, his heart begs again. again. and again.

“hm, not if it means you giving up something you’ve worked hard for in the very beginning. that would be a waste, no?” fuck—how many times will his mentality scream at him? it’s not a waste. nothing is a waste for you. if him abandoning his career means being with you for as long as you allow him to, then it’s okay. if you being with him means he certainly has something to love and hold up to, then it’s beyond okay.

“mi vida, i-” sae lets out a shaky breath, he doesn’t know anymore. the corners of his eyes burn, and it starts to warn him of tears. “mi amor, what’s really wrong?” you answer back, voice so clear it makes him look to his side to see if you’re possibly with him in spain. now, he thinks you’ve pierced through a barrier sae never realized has been built. it crumbles, almost instantly, too, and sae confesses the first thing eating at the back of his mind: “i miss you so much. i want to go back, it’s so lonely here.” because you’re not here, is what sae wishes to express further.

“are you tired?” now, sae understands a part of him better. through the years of dating, he’s subconsciously relied on you for anything and everything. what matters to you is his guide on what should also matter to him.

itoshi sae, now understands that your love and care for him is one of the sole basis of his composure.

“very much.” his voice is so fragile, and sae hates how he’s aware you’re aching for not being there to physically comfort him and his collapsing mental figure.

he’s desperate, so please, do something about it. his body pleads entirely now, tears frantically pouring down his face with nothing to solace it. you hear him sniffle, hiccup—everything. you hear it. you wish you understood the underlying need of his, but he wouldn’t blame you if it were a bit later, as well. because sae only now discovers just how far the roots of his distress reaches.

“i see. then, come home, mi amor. i’ll be here waiting for you.”

© takotakigum | do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works.

[jordanraye47]

Team e-scope headcanons

Eva unintentionally dresses like a f-boy. Like with all those gym clothes someone will confuse her with some mf named jason or Lucas.

Also she most definitely had short hair. Like a pixie cut or smth. Goes along with the f-boy thing.

Despite how much Noah reads, he can go to a bookstore store, buy 8 books and read like 2 of them before deciding that it’s time for a new trip.

Speaking of bookstores. Noah has taken izzy to a bookstore with him. He has never seen her read a book, or anything in fact. But it ended with her trying to recommend him books rather than her taking any books for herself.

And it’s the most random ass books known to man. She’ll come up to him and it’s like a book of algebra formulas and say like ‘did you know that i read this in middle school, yeah, it was really boring though. Except the introduction, i read that multiple times.’ idk she’s a weird girl.

Speaking of izzy. This girl can not tan for the life of her. Like she can live in spain or ecuador and only get this absurd amount of freckles. (i will reblog with a pic cause i can’t add it here for some reason [it will be the end of me i swear tumblr hates me])

Izzy js like ‘turns off’ at some points. Like not passes out, she js goes completely quiet and acts completely normal and calm for like an hour and it creeps everyone out.

She also said in total drama that she had psychosis in the total drama after math. And psychosis is a trauma developed disorder (taught from my physiologist) but literally no one knows what it came from. Like not even herself, it just came at one point according to her.

Noah definitely lets his hair grow out, mostly because without noticing himself. It’s usually his mom who cuts it but she practically drags his hair out of his scalp when she does so he tires to avoid that. Resulting in him having long ass hair. Like not as in pony tail hair but we’ve all seen his hair on total drama.

Izzy has gone to the gym with eva before but izzy does nothing but just walk around and use whatever she finds for her whatever she wants. Like she definitely somehow found monkey bars out of nowhere. (And she’s strong as fuck, we’ve seen her on TDWT she’s strong. But nobody knows how she exercises, and she refuses to tell.)

And they have a group chat i just know it. And Both noah and eva are the driest texters known to man. They will not use emojis even if their life depended on it. And i feel like izzy is either extremely dry or so dramatic all her texts turn into a greek play. She’s either like; ‘YALL GUESS WHO I FUCKING FOUND��️’ or ‘i found a fucking dead frog and i think someone ate his hair’

pt 2

also sorry that i had too much izzy she’s my favourite 😔

[jillsc6rs]

Finally home ♡

pairing ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ ashley graham x fem ! reader

warnings ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ just fluff , not proof read

a/n ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ Hai I suggest listening to she's my religion by pale waves while reading this :3 kind of inspired by that song! also second fic...And its fluff, an upgrade from the angst last time...

She's coming back. She's finally coming back. Ashley has been gone for a day or two and you hadn't stopped worrying since. Leg bouncing, you wait anxiously for the helicopter to land. Eyes shifting from the sky to the helipad.

sky, helipad, sky, helipad, sky, helipad, sky, helip—

you hear the sound of rotor blades, whirling in the sky. You jump from your seat, a smile spreading on your lips. Seeing her step out, you have to resist the urge to run to her, knowing you'll probably get tackled if you do.

After everything is good, Ashley notices you and runs straight to you. The two of you falling on the floor from the speed of her. Tears streaming down both of your faces, hugging her so tightly, afraid if you let go, she'll be gone again.

"Oh my god, I — I missed you so much. Thought I'd never see you again," hiccups interrupting your words.

She hides her face in the crook on your neck, tears falling on it. "I was so scared, so fucking scared...I didn't think I was gonna make it." Her words mumbles from your skin.

The two of you soon get up, still hugging while you start to smother her in kisses. That is until when a man approaches the two of you.

Leon Kennedy, if you remember correctly. He gives a small wave and Ashley reluctantly releases you.

"Oh! [Name], this is Leon. He's the agent they sent to get me. Both of us had one hell of a night." She jokes.

He reaches his hand out and you take it, giving him a firm handshake.

"Thank you, thank you so much for bringing her back home. I don't know what I would've done if she never came home."

"No need to thank me, it is my job after all." His tone dry, you give an awkward smile. "I should get going," he gives Ashley a short hug and then pats her shoulder, "get home safe. Not sure if I'm willing to save you again after tonight," he smirks.

Ashley punches his shoulder, "yeah, yeah...See you around, Leon!" Waving as he starts to walk away, she turns back to you.

"You two remind me of siblings..Look like it too. You sure you don't have a long lost brother?"

"Oh, stop it! But, yeah, I do see him as an older brother. He kept me safe, didn't give up on me all the time in Spain...I'm thankful for him."

You hum and take her hand.

"Shall we?" You point your thumb to where the escort is.

"We shall." She leans on you as the two of you walk to the car and get in. Heading home, finally able to embrace each other again. She falls asleep on your shoulder and you soon fall asleep as well.

She's finally back in your arms, that's all you could ask for.

a/n 2 ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ i kind of wanna make a part 2 of this...like them goijg on a cute lil date...If i do make one lmk if youd wna b tagged :3 tho I am not promising a part two! again, reblogs ++ comments appreciated!!!!!

[nerdieforpedro]

Wrong Beach and a Speedo

Part One of Two Hearts by the Ocean

This part is for general audiences - rating will depend on individual parts. Overall will be 18+ MDNI

Javier Gutierrez x Abigail (plus size OFC)

Main Masterlist / Two Hearts by the Ocean Masterlist / Javier Gutierrez Masterlist

Word Count: about 2.3k

Summary: Frustrated by her friends, Abigail is going to see one of the beaches on Mallorca. Her sense of direction fails her and she meets a man in a speedo. Javier needed a break from his current worries. The beach is picturesque and so is the beginning of their story.

Warnings: mildly annoying friends, rich guy horrible cousin problems, meet-cute, that speedo, FLUFF, they're sweet okay?!

Notes: I've actually had this in my WIP folder since October of last year. I really have wanted to write for sweet Javi G and finally the right idea came along. Since it's winter I really want to be on a beach somewhere. Soaking in some sun and finding Javi in a speedo. A lovely summer romance. 🥰 I have a lovely mansion in delulu land.

Cobblestone streets, rolling waves on beaches, beautiful vistas from atop hills; this was Majorca, Spain. There was so much to see and do on a girls’ trip there. But Abigail’s friend group was more preoccupied with the nightlife and wineries. Wine didn’t taste like sweet grape juice and she wasn’t too keen on being in a club, she didn’t even go clubbing at home. Why do that when there’s so much to explore?! These heifers hadn’t even been to the beach. She did not come all the way to a beautiful island off of Spain to be inside partying all the time, some of the time sure but not all the time.

Abigail was a round girl, larger belly than butt that hung a little, wide thighs, arms that waved after she stopped doing so and a round face. She believed she was cute, she wouldn’t say sexy, but cute and she felt even more so in her red one-piece bathing suit with white polka dots. It also had a short skirt that accentuated what little butt she did have. She had a large yellow sun hat and put on her white cat eye sunglasses following the resort map to the beach. She brought her tote bag which had her phone, wallet, sunscreen, books, beach towel and towel to dry off and a water bottle. She also carried a beach chair that had an umbrella attached to it. Abigail always liked to be well prepared even if it looked and was cumbersome. She trotted down to the beach and set herself up, sitting in her chair that she placed on her beach blanket and stretched her legs out. She was watching and water and sky meet each other on the horizon as waves crashed lightly before her. It was stunning and looked like a postcard.

“This is perfect. I’m so glad I finally made it here.” A serene smile came over her face, she cracked the spine on her erotic thriller that she brought with her, ‘The PI that Fucked around and found out.’

Javier was fed up with Lucas sticking around so long this time, they had argued again about Javi’s scripts and his Nic Cage shrine. Lucas wanted him to spend the money and make like a party boy so he did, what was the problem? He didn’t like guns and very violent things like his cousin, he didn’t need to feed into any machismo by being any sort of tough guy. Thanks to Lucas, Gabriella had really quit this time and left the country, who was gonna help manage the estate now? Lucas and his friends had made one too many passes at her, she shot the man in the balls and now she was in the wind. Did Javi know where she was? No and even if she did, he wouldn’t tell his cousin a damn thing. 

The Majorcan party boy needed to relax and the ocean did that for him, despite all the chaos his cousin caused, the ocean and Nic cage movies were constants in his life. Javier donned his white and navy speedo and asked the chef to help him put sunscreen on his back, he slipped him a few hundred for it because it was not in his job description. Javier just had his towel, shades and a longing to be in the water.

He happened to spy something new at his beach though. A blue umbrella chair, and thick caramel legs extending from under it. Javi knew he hadn’t been at the beach but a few minutes so he shouldn’t be hallucinating right now, right? He figured he should just let the person know that this was a private beach and you can’t just come in here, but he looked past the stone wall that surrounded his estate and noted that the fence labeled private property had been removed, when did that happen and why didn’t he not know about it? Is Lucas messing with him? Would he go that far? Even the beach? The aspiring screenwriter expected to see one of his cousin’s goons and not…an attractive pair of legs, likely belonging to a woman he assumed. 

Javier walked over to the umbrella repeating, “Hola! Perdón, señorita? Hola! (Hello! Excuse me, Miss! Hello!)” several times with no response. He walked around to the front of the umbrella and roughly waved after being frustrated but it melted away when he saw her. “Oh! Ah…perdón una diosa (a goddess).” Javi simply stared at the woman before him. She had a large hat on and sunglasses but she had a round adorable face to match her soft body and those dense thighs. Her delicate hands set the book down and removed her AirPods. She looked up and removed her sunglasses exposing honey eyes that appeared to be confused. 

 “Buenas tardes señor (Good afternoon sir). Pasa algo (Is there anything going on?) Estaba sentado leyendo (I was sitting and reading).” She responded; she said the words correctly but seemed to have an issue rolling her tongue. Spanish was not likely her first language which meant she may be a tourist. Javier knew of a resort that had a beach on its property, but why was she here?

“Muy bien (Very good) señorita. Hablas Ingles (Do you speak English)?” Javier asked with his smile still wide though his praise of her may have extended to what he saw before him as well as her proficiency in Spanish. He heard her chuckle and stood from her chair, she dusted her bottom off and returned his smile. 

“Sí (Yes). Ah yes I do. I’m sorry, I did practice some basic phrases but I’m not past the colors, stores and family yet. Um,” Abigail explained. She wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He seemed nice, definitely handsome and she was drawn to him. She crossed her arms over her stomach and held her forearms, her very obvious anxious tell. “My name is Abigail. Are you here to enjoy the beach too?” Javier’s smile changed to a grin and nodded.

“Yes señorita Abigail. I regret to tell you that you are on a private beach. My private beach.” He stated, not menacingly but the look on Abigail’s face told him that it was received poorly. 

“No, this should be the resort beach. I walked from just over there.” She pointed to where the fence was suspiciously gone. Javier sighed as he followed her finger to that area as well. He pondered and considered asking her to leave, though when he turned back to tell her this, she was bent over rummaging through her tote bag looking for her map. Javier stared at her rear and his eyes went wide. He is first and foremost a gentleman so he looked away…after sneaking a lingering peek.

Abigail finally retrieved the map and pointed to her resort and the path she walked to the beach. Javier was thankful that she didn’t seem to notice and looked at the map with her.

“Señorita, the map is the wrong way. The beach that belongs to the resort is to the right and not the left.” Javier pointed out, taking the map and turning it the opposite direction, he set it in her soft hands and exhaled deeply. He chuckled as she stared at it, he could picture smoke coming out of her ears. 

“I…this is worse than that time I got lost finding my own car from the airport…” Abigail sighed, her poor sense of direction had prevailed again. She weakly smiled at Javier and then frowned. He was being very nice about some weird lady on his property. This beautiful man in a speedo. She wanted to poke his belly and see if he would giggle. He looked like he would, his face was so expressive. “I-I’m sorry for trespassing. I didn’t even realize I was. It was just really wonderful to have a calm day at the beach.” Her eyes led back to the water, it was quiet here, not full of bumbling tourists and crying children, but it was not hers to enjoy. Noticing the longing look she had toward the seas, Javier had an idea, rather a suggestion.

“Señorita Abigail, you’re more than welcome to stay on the beach for the time being. I’m glad you were able to find peace here.” Javier started, her face snapped back to his with a wide smile. He continued, “Do you have any food allergies or dishes you’re opposed to eating? While we relax out in the sun, I can ask my chef to make us lunch.” His hand extended and took a hold of hers that wasn’t holding the map, she didn’t shy away from the touch but she wasn’t expecting it either nor was she expecting to be offered a meal by the very person who came to tell her that she was on his property.

“No food allergies. Are you sure? Oh, I don’t think you gave me your name.” She recalled, no, he had not, she knew she wasn’t good with names but she felt she wouldn’t forget his. His thumb pressed into the soft flesh of the back of her hand slightly, feeling it bounce.

“My name is Javier Gutiérrez. Please call me Javi mi diosa.” In his excitement upon meeting her, he left his name out, thinking it not at all important when speaking to the crimson and caramel clad beauty before him. 

“Javier…Javi. Okay, I got it.” Abigail muttered to herself, though Javi overheard and was delighted. “Lunch sounds delightful. I’m not hungry now, but I will be in a bit.” She explained, Javier released her hand and sped toward his expansive home yelling, 

“I’ll be right back señorita Abigail! Do not spirit away anywhere!” Javier yelled kicking up sand as he ran toward his home. He informed his chef to prepare lunch for two along with a little something for dessert, whatever he had around. It dawned on Javier that his guest may not want to eat in her bathing suit. His golf cart could take her back to the hotel and bring her back for lunch. He informed one of the maids to prepare a room for her and to leave for the day. Maybe she would stay, maybe not, but he would be prepared either way. Javier wondered what movies Abigail may want to watch, everyone has at least one favorite move, what was hers? He grabbed a white button up shirt and threw it on quickly, not bothering to close it up. If she wanted to freshen up, she’d likely want to do so where had her clothes. Javier also reasoned that at least having a shirt would be better than showing up to the resort in just a speedo.

Abigail stood looking over the water after folding her beach chair and towel. The cerulean waves crashed along the shore and she had a serene smile on her face. It truly was beautifully breathtaking. She didn’t hear the jovial man’s steps behind her, a strong gust of wind blew her hat and it started to get away. Javier stretched and grabbed the brim of the hat, he pulled it to his toned chest and held it until the wind calmed. A beaming smile was across his face as he stepped in front of Abigail.

“Perdón (excuse me) Señorita Abigail. Tu sombrero está a salvo. (Your hat is safe).” Javi stretched out his arms and raised them, placing the hat on her head and tipping it up at an angle so her face was fully visible. 

“Gracias (Thank you) Javier.” Abigail smiled shyly, placing her hand over Javi’s on her hat. They were warm from the sunlight, he brought a hand to her face to cup it, but let it hover.

“Is it alright if I touch your face Señorita Abigail?” Javier questioned softly, she nodded and dropped her hands, letting them rest at her sides.

“Only if you call me Abigail or Abby rather. Señorita is a bit too formal.” A smile graces her face as his sun-kissed hand cupped her face with his thumb outlining her soft cheek. She couldn’t resist reaching for the hand still at his side and holding it. The moment appeared surreal as they stood, the crashing of the waves behind them, with another soft breeze in the air.

“Señ- Abby, did you want to come to lunch as you are now? Or travel back to your hotel to change. I find myself fine with either option you choose.” The chocolate haired man explained, leaving Abigail to decide. It would be best to freshen up before going to his home which looked to be enormous. A squeeze of his hand and a nod confirmed that she heard him. 

“I’ll go and freshen up before our meal. I shouldn’t be long Javier.” Her voice was calm as he led her to his golf cart. She was curious why he was leading her to the golf cart, but he quickly explained that he would drive her to her resort, help her unload her beach belongings. Javier joked that he came prepared with his shirt which made her chuckle as he carried her bag and chair despite her instance that she could carry one of them but he refused to let her as he put them in the golf cart. 

Together, they made the short drive to her resort where Javier suggested that Abby should have his number to be able to text him and let him know when she was ready for him to pick her up for lunch. Had he not had such a warm smile and gentle touch, Abigail would have said no. Javier, however, had walked her to her room on the fourth floor of the resort and his hand touched the middle of her back as they walked inside and spoke briefly about what she had seen on the island already and still wanted to see. She ended up watching him as he left her room and made his way down the hallway, waving to her as the elevator doors closed.

“Hasta leugo mi diosa (See you later my goddess).”

Part Two

Peeps who got lost and found that speedo 😎: @innerpersonunknown @trulybetty @tinytinymenace @maggiemayhemnj @megamindsecretlair @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @grogusmum @secretelephanttattoo @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept @lady-bess @readingiskeepingmegoing @missladym1981 @avastrasposts @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @gasolinerainbowpuddles @i-own-loki

[shortansweet]

So basically Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg were childhood friends like INSEPARABLE since their karting days and Nico was like kinda Rich since his father was Keke Rosberg (not relevant it's just that he was Rich) and they were such good friends they were fucking soul bonded goddamn star crossed lovers once Lewis broke his wrist or smth and Nico arranged a SPECIAL cart for him so he could race one handed also he took Lewis on a vacation with him to Greece with his family when they were 14 which might possibly be one of many. They are both super competitive and competed from who gets the fastest lap in the race to who finishes their breakfast first. They once even broke a hotel bed by "wrestling" on it. Fucking baby children. But no matter how competitive it got they always laughed about it after and then Nico got into f1 and then Lewis got into f1 and in 2008 they celebrated together Nico's first podium in F1. You can even find the video online titled "my first F1 podium” by Nico Rosberg. Then they raced together for many many years in good sport until beginning of 2016 when the friendly fights started turning into actual rivalry. The year was filled with crashes and "accidents" thoigh neither were directly blamed for it. Around Spain 2016 it got to a point where they wouldn't even look at each other. They would arrive at the HQ on race day and not even greet each other good morning when the first thing they used to do was wish each other luck. In Abu Dhabi 2016, Lewis pulled a very controversial trick on the track. Which resulted in Nico not being able to overtake him and losing the race. Even though he won the championship that year, Lewis pulling that dirty trick was what snapped the thread their relationship was hanging on by. The podium celebrations were dry and these guys— who fucking hugged and jumped around and screamed at Nico's first podium, didn't even acknowledge each other at his first WDC!!!!!

Shortly after this Nico Rosberg quit racing and retired. He did not race in the 2017 season.

In an interview someone referred to Nico as Lewis' best friend and he said, "oh we're not friends, Nico and I"

The two were never again mentioned being in contact until a photo was released in 2021 of Nico on Lewis' yacht with him, and then going back to full animosity. He also attended an F1 race and was seen talking to Lewis and yk what they fucking talked. About.??? The fuckin.g . The fucking weather. From "my teammate, who is also my best friend" to talking about the fucking weather

And to drop one last bomb

They used to live in the same complex building in Monaco and ARE STILL NEIGHBOURS

Ok ok ok WTF IS THIS !?!? A FICTIONAL ANGST BOOK, also also also so like they went from best friends to enemies to i dont even wanna see u ti somewhat friends right, like wtf bro i hate when two really good friends break up (theyre on talking terms now right) also NEIGHBOURS THE PLOT KEEPS INTENSING also plz you typed all this tysm

[safetycar-restart]

I loved your thoughts on sub Fabio getting his medal! Fabulous!

So formal occasions for our lovely motogp boys in ds au...

Obviously, there's the end of year gala. And the boys' collective struggles with formalwear were so delightfully shown in the amazon doc.

So dom dressing them obviously, either in comfort or jubilation? Like it's hours since the last race of the season, emotions! But instead of ties and bow ties, it's formal collars. The kind they can't wear to a race.

Does the champion get a new collar (pick any or all for your choice of champ)? Are the collars sparkly perhaps? Who has a shibari costume (since this is ds au that must be at least minor fashion trend)? Who have the most intricate shibari underneath the costume? Also like other fun things underneath the clothes, so many options.

Who preferred to have a nice spanking between the race and gala?

Who sneaks of during the gala?

Like for the boys dom is coming of course but which boy's dom was surprised by this?

Also after party shenanigans. Who sneaks away as soon as politely possible?

Also re 2022 after party, does Fabio's dom have opinions on accidental drunk setting peoples hair on fire? Like time to take sweetest, drunkest baby boy home and in the morning fuck him dry? And of course cuddle and pet him. But no more fire for him 😁

Who leave the party latest and stumbles back, half leaning on dom stumble back to bed all the while extolling their doms many virtuous?

Who's private afterparty is a week long scene?

Anyway hope you enjoy these and give a shout if you want thoughts on the boys and being wedding guest 😁

Cheers 🏍 anon

🏍 anon you are one of my favourite people on earth oh my god. So firstly, PLEASE share your thoughts on the boys at weddings! This is not a want this is a NEED. And secondly, I love all these thoughts lets discuss!

END OF YEAR GALA:

I definitely think you'd be choosing their clothes! And I love the idea of having formal collars or special collars for formal events? That's so cute and perfect for this AU.

I think for Marc, maybe you gift him a new collar at the end of every season? It becomes a tradition between you two, and maybe the first year that Marc doesn't win a championship he thinks you won't get him a new special collar? But then of course you do and he ends up just sobbing because he realises the collar was never a gift for winning, it was a gift for being your good boy for an entire season, irrelevant of his performance.

For Fabio, you choose his collar, of course. But for the rest of his outfit, it's less you choosing it and more you trying to figure out what fabio secretly wants to wear but won't admit to so that you can encourage him to wear that. Fabio has a pretty out there fashion sense but he always gets shy with formal events, so you have to figure out what he genuinely wants to wear and then encourage that. Even if it's hideous, you still encourage it because it will make him happy.

In terms of coming with them to the gala, I think Enea would be the most surprising? We said that you only became his dom last season when he joined Ducati, and of course he spent so much of that season injured that you were barely on the track with him and instead mostly helped him in his recovery.

You really don't expect to get asked to come to the gala with him, because you've only been his team dom for a year it's not like you've collared him or anything. But for Enea, there's no way he would have gotten through the season without you. It's a no brainier that you come with, and he won't accept no for an answer.

GALA SHENANIGANS:

I definitely think Marc would sneak out as soon as politely possible, he had the season from hell and all he wants now is to finally relax with his dom and enjoy his new pretty collar. He spends the entire gala waiting for it to end and at his first opportunity, he's out of there immediately.

And then the week long post season scene begins. Marc falls into subspace on the plane back to Spain, just so happy to finally not have to worry about racing for a while that just holding him on the plane is enough to make him slip. He stays that way for days, getting the good rest he so desperately needed.

As for who sneaks off during the actual gala... Jorge. It's Jorge. You knew before you even arrived at the gala that you'd have a hand down his pants before you two even got to the car. He's just insatiable, and he blames it on seeing you all dressed up but you know the truth: he's just a horny little bastard.

Bez is the one who ends up leaving last, stumbling and leaning against you. He doesn't just babble about how much he loves you, he shouts it. He's a loud, clingy, happy drunk and you get all of that affection, as does anyone who happens to walk by. Poor Pecco just came to say goodnight and ended up on the floor with bez on his lap, shaking him and babbling about how much he loves you. Oh and he also gets very horny so you have to drag him home before he gets arrested for public indecency. He WILL openly hump you if you don't get him out of there.

The video of fabio lighting the dude's hair in fire is fucking hilarious, it's one of my favourite fabio moments ever. Firstly, I definitely think that when fabio drinks you have to his babysitter. Which is perfectly fine with you because he's your best boy and he deserves to have fun.

But yes once he accidentally set someone's hair on fire it was definitely time to call it a night. And he honestly had no problem with that? Even when very drunk, all fabio wants is to be a good boy so when you tell him it's time to go home, he immediately nods and lets you lead him out because he's a good boy!

Oh and Alex M skips the afterparty entirely. He was supposed to go, but he went back to the hotel with you to change before the party and he just... never came back. He had more important things to do (get fucked into the mattress).

[muzaktomyears]

😘

"What are you gonna do in Paris ?" John asks.

He's smoking now, and Paul has to fight to keep his attention on the road. John lit a fag for him, too. Put it in his mouth, let his fingers brush Paul's lips. Like it was no big deal. Like this is normal. Like it's legal.

Soon, it will be. Not in England, but in France.

"Drop my load," Paul says. John smirks, wags his eyebrows.

"What kinda load?" he asks.

"Oh, shove it," Paul tells him. "This is just me job, you know that. It's bloody boring, is what it is. Why do you wanna go to Paris?"

"Because I wanna get away from home," John shrugs. "You know how it is, annoying family, clingy birds, I want a fresh start."

Paul knows how it is, all right. He's just doing it the decent way. Like a blood hound, John seems to sniff it out. Easy too. Sharp. Like he understands Paul, he's just not careful to keep up the façade Paul spent years constructing.

"I was actually," John says, turning into Paul again. His finger trails down his neck, then back up, twisting a curl into his hair, a little too long to be proper. He never quite did let go of those dreams of rock 'n roll after all. "I was hoping you might wanna take me to Spain?"

"I'm on the clock," Paul reminds John.

"And once you're off it?"

John thinks he's being smart. Insinuating Paul does this - blokes - off the clock. In actuality, he does them only on the clock. That way, he isn't home, isn't where his type is long hair and tits and neat pencil skirts, isn't coy smiles and shorter than him.

"I won't be till I'm back in Liverpool."

"Oh." John seems disappointed.

"I have... I'll have time to stop along the way," Paul finally says. He's not sure why it's taken him so long, except that, maybe, he wants the upper hand. Some kind of leverage, over John, who's clearly so confident, comfortable with himself. "A couple of times." So clearly interested in telling Paul what to do. And Paul wants that, he just... Maybe also wants to order John to do some things. Like suck his dick. Shut him up, press his fingers along his jaw while he fucks his mouth.

He adjusts his dick, swelling in his trousers.

"When?" John asks.

"Soon." Paul swallow, his mouth suddenly dry. Shit.

"Good," John says. Then he sits back, those brown eyes finally turning back to the road. He begins to sing a tune under his breath. Paul doesn't recognize it.

hgdsjhgdkshgjdks omg anon!

[confrontthefamiliar]

New moon in cancer

I dreamt I was being unproductive with time but in the dream, the man I work for in reality, soon revealed to me that it was apart of the timing, nodding his head.

In the past, I’ve found myself doing things I didn’t want to do or spending time with people I didn’t want to spend time with.

This has led me to good friendships but my friendship with myself is more important than with others. Doing the things I want is more important than doing things for others. And sure it’s a balance. But I think I’ll be leaning into the first one these days. Especially with the nodes moving into Aries and Libra. Especially since this yearlong detour where I decided to serve others and help them build their dreams. I want everyone else to do what they want.

We say we need each other but that wouldn’t be right. Like any healthy relationship it’s a nice to have not a need to have.

The paradox of love and friendships.

I spent the winter and spring snowboarding though I’d have rather been surfing.

But I had to make a ton of tips and I had to be in one place.

And I was supposed to go sailing.

That was the whole point of being here.

And he had the nerve to say I didn’t follow through on my word. I listened to projection after projection. I’ve heard projection after projection. It’s time to be a detective of other peoples’ logic as a matter of beforehand.

My wrath these days amuses me. I suppose it’s looping around from the last full moon in Cancer back in January.

I’m going to channel it towards movement towards my drive. My drive is coming back but it’s still pixelated.

The other thing is I quit smoking tobacco. Cigarettes keep so many emotions at bay.

At first I got a rush from the emotions flooding at me that I had smoked through all this time.

They’re telling me to cry. They’re telling me to be enraged.

I’m going through a portal of emotion.

I’ve tried quitting multiple times for the last two years. The last three men I dated were smokers. I think quitting the cigs is also quitting these kinds of men.

I want to be less anonymous and try to reveal myself more and see what happens. Maybe I’ll stop seeking intimacy in doomed situations. My shyness is peeling off. I sang on the stage at a friend’s birthday party.

I’m listening to this YouTube playlist at a Mediterranean cafe on the northwest coast of Tahoe - my favorite part of the lake. Back in Spain when I was 24, they played the same playlist at a surf hostel I worked at.

It’s that theme repeating of absolute delight, of absolute pleasure, of absolute joy. There was a song that haunted me on that playlist because I couldn’t find it for years after.

“And then she’d say, ‘It’s okay, I got lost on the way, but I’m a supergirl, and supergirls don’t cry’… she’s sowin’ seeds, she’s burnin’ trees.”

It has always been my song. I pay more attention now to songs that pop into my head. They’re messages for me.

Back in Ecuador when I was 26, I made my friend a bracelet that said viento when I didn’t know what to make it say as I was at a particularly existential point in my life and didn’t believe in anything.

But I’m back on the viento.

Who could have known the lack of meaning would become viento and in doing so become meaningful?

I never want to allow a man to lead me astray. That’s why I’ll be a captain.

If it’s not a fuck yes… I said to Cristian.

And in the meantime, while things pixelate, I realize it’s okay to do literally nothing to make money.

It’s sort of dangerous. But it’s different. A different lifestyle than I was taught.

The money remains the same but the writing flows. I collect herbs. I dry them and make teas and tinctures.

I didn’t know this would be the lesson. I didn’t know it’d suddenly be about timing and slowing down.

I didn’t know it’d be so welcoming to get back into my energy again. That I’d want to be alone so bad in the middle of summer.

At the man’s birthday whom I’m working for, his wife said, “He’s really good at closing chapters.”

That’s what I’m going to be good at.

I’m entertaining a lot of notions. There are things I want to do.

You’re waiting for the signs? Someone asked at the party last night.

I’m looking at new homes.

[frozendeity17]

Aaallll fifty of them, in order, punk! :p

Alright, here we go:

Lumity and Percabeth. Yes, I know TOH just ended and TLT won't be coming out for a hot sec, no I do not care.

Never had one specific color, though I've definitely always preferred cooler colors. Used to love greens, but now indigoes, violets, and dark blues are more my style. Still love a good forest green though.

All of the quotes on that one doc abt unlikely posts. Also, "I think it's silly to be ashamed of your art because it's not in a museum and of your voice because it's not selling out stadiums. There will always be people who enjoy and appreciate what you can do." -Tumblr user venuskissed

Private. I'm not one to share my birthday.

Also private. Not today, fae fuck.

See #4.

Honestly, I don't know. I think I give them in all of their forms, but as for receiving, I think affirmation is what does it for me. Might be physical contact though, I do love hugs.

Probably a drama, I did like How to Get Away With Murder, even if I only got through the first season and a bit. Designated Survivor was awesome too.

Spain, for one. I don't know what it is about the place, but it has a charm about it for me. Maybe it's the weather. Aside from that, Greece and Italy would be awesome. I'm a little bit of a mythology nerd, so seeing all of the temples and wonders built for these ancient gods sounds like an awesome experience. If I could choose more, Norway and Iceland are both incredibly beautiful places, and I do kind of prefer the cold. Also, I've always wanted to see the aurora borealis in person.

Ooph, this one is difficult. There are a lot of great scents out there. Vanilla's a long-standing favorite, I remember once bringing a bottle of it to school once to show to my friends. Cinnamon rolls smell delicious, as does that smell from the candles we always used to buy. It might've been sandalwood, but I've never been quite sure. Also, there's this one perfume my mom's worn for as long as I can remember - it's a little too sharp to be entirely pleasant, but it's flowery, and nostalgic for me.

"City of Angels" by Em Beihold. She also wrote the trending songs "Numb Little Bug" - the "Do you ever get a little bit tired of life" one - and dueted "Until I Found You" with Stephen Sanchez. I think her songs "Too Precious" and "12345" are also really good.

Stalker. But seriously, probably one of the places listed in #9, or back home, as I have some stuff to do there.

Vanilla. Most pure chocolate ice creams have a bad aftertaste.

Donuts. I don't know what it is about cake, but I've never seemed to like it all that much, even the good ones. It is, honestly, my least favorite dessert that I'll actually eat - I even like eclairs, which are literally just pastry around messy whipped cream that gets everywhere, more than cake. I particularly hate it with that weird gel writing on it. Just...urgh. Donuts are chill tho, and I'll never turn down a solid frosted with sprinkles or Boston Creme.

Black. It's reliable, doesn't stain easily, works well in formal outfits, doesn't show sweat stains, and works on most complexions. Also, I never really wear much color regardless. I would miss that one blue dress shirt I really like - it's comfy as hell.

Haven't read one in ages, despite my massive TBR, but off the top of my head, probably "With great power comes great need to take a nap," by Nico di Angelo from PJO, if only because of how ridiculous yet true it is.

If I can't handle myself In a fight, I'm not subjecting any of y'all to that.

Ice cream. It's more reliable and easily accessible for me, and frankly, cotton candy is too dry as a dessert.

A famous engineer, hopefully. Being an author would be cool, too.

I do not have pet peeves, I am a pet peeve.

Basic Bitch. I suck at fashion and aesthetics and currently have neither the desire nor the capability to improve. My wardrobe is composed entirely of thin shorts, tracksuit pants, and t-shirts, with a singular formal suit. Might try to start painting my nails soon, see how that goes.

As prideful as it may sound, my intelligence. I don't have much street sense, to say the least, but I have a good factual memory, am good at logic puzzles, and am a quick reader, and I'm rather proud of that.

Saturday. Nothing to occupy that day, nor the day after. It's excellent. My favorite weekday? Probably Thursday. Dunno why, it just vibes the best.

I am SUCH a bad night owl. I don't even know why, I always regret it in the mornings too. I guess it's just kinda freeing, not having the expectations.

Neither, hot chocolate reigns supreme.

This is the first half, the second half to come, as Tumblr apparently has a character limit.

[hella1975]

the tarmac is melting this country is a fucking nightmare 😭

[academyofbrokenhearts]

What if we get fully clowned and Miquel and Nora will stay together until the very last scene of the very last episode?

[srvphm]

I'm going back to where I live in 2 days and I don't want to for so many reasons

[jackharlou]

Papi

Request taken from @lcandothisallday 's anon : "hispanic reader with jack! ie calling jack “papi” in a nonsexual way and he thinks it’s all cute, speaking spanish around him, cooking him traditional meals"

"papi, let's eat" - you called Jack from the living room, having just received the delivery you asked for almost an hour prior.

"what did you just call me?" - he asked entering the room while drying his hair with a towel. there were a few drops of water falling to his chest and dripping down. he looked hot as fuck.

"papi?" - you asked not getting the relevance of the word.

"fuck, mami. don't ever stop calling me that. how can you make a word sound so cute and hot at the same time?" - he sat, threw the towel on the floor and pulled you to make you sit on his lap.

"you're annoying" - you said laughing and leaning down to grab the food you had already pull out from the brown paper bags.

"but you love me like that, right?" - you ignored his words just to play with him, but as always, he needed you to tell him all the time what you felt for him - "right?" - he asked again with pouty lips and removing what you had in your hands, placing it beside you two on the couch.

"sí, mi amor, you know I love you"

"oh god, no, are you trying to kill me?" - he asked leaning his head back and bitting his lower lip - "what does that mean?"

"my love" - you answered.

"ok, say that again and also say that you love me in spanish"

you laughed and held his face with your hands, leaning forward you placed a soft kiss on his lips and said - "te amo, mi amor"

"fuck, baby" - grabbing your face back, he didn't let you pull back to keep kissing your lips.

"jack, i want to eat" - you murmured against his lips while laughing.

"ok but i want to hear more spanish from you"

"sure but after we eat. I'm starving"

"what are we eating?" - he focused on the food.

"I ordered from a place where they sell food from different countries, so we have toasts from Spain, it's just bread with tomato, olive oil and oregano"

"oregano" - he repeated mimicking your accent making you laugh.

"i also ordered tequeños and empanadas, this are from Venezuela. tequeños are like cheese fingers and empanadas are made of corn flour. you can fill them with basically anything, this ones have ham and cheese and others with meat"

"empanadas and teque... say it again" - he asked confused.

"tequeños" - you said slowly.

"tequeños" - he repeated in a very poor way, but the effort was what mattered.

"that was good" - you said smiling proudly.

"how come you never speak spanish?"

"well, no one around you understands it so I try to not speak it, but I do speak it with my friends"

"well you need to teach me because it sounds so good"

"i will, but let's eat now" - you grabbed a tequeño and dipped it in the sauce the restaurant sent and ate it - "ay, Dios mío" - you moaned - "try this" - you dipped it back in the sauce and put it in jack's mouth.

"ay, Dios mio" - he yelled.

[sweeethinny]

Abstinence (M)

Summary: ''I told you, I don't know how to live without you anymore, it's like you're my drug and I'm an addict.”

"What a bad comparison." They laughed, Harry hugging her tighter. Ginny rested her head close to his collarbone, feeling entirely happy. She was so happy he was home.

"I know." Harry kissed her head. "But that's how I feel."

or

Harry and Ginny haven't had much time alone, until after being gone for three days, Harry comes back feeling abstinent from his favorite drug.

Notes: I wrote this for @blvnk-art's Smut Hinny Sundays, and hope you all like it I wasn't inspired by a specific art of hers, but by several I was also inspired by the song All The Time - Jeremih

AO3

-----

Ginny sighed as she got home, taking off her cloak and shoes, her feet tired after all those hours of practice, her arms sore too. Gwenog seemed to want to kill her now that she was back.

It was great to be back, Ginny was glad she had made that decision six months ago, but her body still wasn't used to all that burden of being a mother and playing Quidditch, and strength training was always the worst, leaving her more tired than usual and with even more pain in her arms.

At least, Ginny thought, Harry was staying at home more, which helped her not to spend all the hours she was away worrying about James and whether he was okay. The boy was staying part-time in day care - in the afternoon - and so far they hadn't had a problem with anything, James even seemed happier now that he was with other kids.

"Babe?" Ginny called, walking past their house which was silent, which was weird since James didn't seem to be a big fan of silence. But Harry didn't show up anywhere, all the lights in there were off, which Ginny assumed was because he'd already put James to sleep and was upstairs.

She was happy, thinking that maybe she could get a massage that night—or even something more.

Walking slowly up the stairs, afraid to make a noise, she arrived in front of James' room, smiling when she saw that Harry was sleeping sitting in the rocking chair, the little one lying on his arm, sleeping clutching his shirt. It was such a cute scene that Ginny thought her heart might melt, still unaccustomed, even after almost two years, to how Harry was such a lovely father.

He had become another man now that they had James, Harry was much more careful at work, and much more affectionate. Not that he hadn't gone before, but it looked like James had freed him from the fear of showing. Harry cried more easily, wasn't afraid to play and do childish things with Teddy and James, and let them teach him everything he didn't know. Like last week James had made Harry realize he needed to eat more slowly— "Swow, Daddy," James had said, and now he seemed a lot less anxious and rushed into eating.

Even more careful now not to wake her son, Ginny approached the chair, kissing Harry's forehead and shaking him slowly, just so he woke up and put James in his crib so they could go to bed together.

"Hi," Harry whispered, a faint smile on his lips. His face was a little scrunched up from the pillows, his cheeks red with heat, probably because he had lit the fireplace in the living room.

"Hi." Ginny gave him a quick peck. “Shall we go to bed?” She ran a hand over his face, pushing his hair out of his eyes and straightening his crooked glasses. He nodded, taking a deep breath and stretching his legs, looking at James who didn't move in his arms.

"He didn't want to leave me today." Harry stood up, looking worried as he laid his son on his own bed, but as always after he fell asleep, James made no sign that he was going to wake up. Little hands ran to grab the yellow blanket Hermione had given him, and Ginny covered him with the other blanket, not wanting him to be cold at night. She kissed his forehead and lifted the crib enclosure, thinking that soon that wouldn't be enough to stop James from getting out of bed.

'You were gone for three days, he missed you' Ginny reminded him, hugging Harry and resting her head on his chest, letting him drag her towards their bedroom, feeling finally at home now that he was there.

Harry had gone away to a conference in Spain, and it had been a long three lonely days where she had the bed all to herself - sometimes James would cry to stay with her through the night, seeming to realize that things weren't the same without his daddy there.

"I missed you guys too." Harry kissed her head. 'I need to take a shower.'

"Me too, Gwenog today seemed to want to kill us in practice, I even thought maybe she was punishing us for something... You know, she's crazy sometimes."

'I know. Robards was about to lose his hair at the conference, telling everyone he would go crazy if he heard one more lecture.” Harry went into their bathroom, turning on the shower and starting to undress. Ginny had missed that routine and intimacy.

She took off her clothes too, tossing them in the laundry hamper, their cold room making her skin crawl. "We have a party to go to on Saturday."

"A party?" Harry grimaced, stepping under the shower.

‘Yes, I promised we would. Sorry, there was no other way out.' She followed, re-embracing Harry and resting her head on his now bare chest, the water splashing between them, relaxing her muscles. "It's a fundraiser for an orphaned children's charity… It'll be quick, we'll stay for an hour or two, then we'll go back." She promised, giving him what she hoped was her best look. Harry sighed and nodded, tightening his arms around her, pulling their bodies closer together.

‘Okay, we will. But two hours at most.” Ginny nodded, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"I missed you so much," she whispered, lifting her hands to cup his face, pulling him into a deeper kiss, never wanting to let go. Harry squeezed her hips, letting her feel his cock that was beginning to show signs of life.

The kiss started to get hotter faster than she expected, soon Harry had picked her up and pushed her against the cold wall, squeezing her waist tighter and thrusting his tongue deeper into her mouth, as if suddenly a key had turned inside him and Harry had been as hungry as she was.

Ginny pulled at his hair, moaning into his mouth and scratching at his scalp trying to make him as crazy as he was leaving her, his teeth playing with her lip and his hands going down to her ass and squeezing.

“Fuck, I missed this.” Harry moaned as she tightened her legs around him, her wet intimacy touching his already hard cock.

They hadn't had a lot of time to get laid now that James was older, the boy seemed to have the right timing to want his parents whenever they were too close to each other, either to pee or because he was bored and hunger. Ginny had already accepted that by the weekend they would be too tired to do anything but sleep, and that getting laid would have to be for weekdays, during the morning shower, a quickie before James woke up.

"Me too." Ginny thought she might lose her mind at any moment, almost screaming when his trained fingers touched her swollen clit, throwing her head back and biting her lip to keep the noises back.

"The last few days I felt like a fucking teenager thinking about you." Harry whispered in her ear, his thick voice making her moan. “Thinking of you on top of me, below, on the side, on all fours…” He continued, biting the sensitive skin of her neck. "As much as I love getting laid in the shower, I miss a bed."

"Yes, shit, Harry yes." Ginny would agree to flee this planet right now if he continued to touch her like that.

She didn't pay much attention to the next few minutes between him turning off the shower, applying a basic dry spell on their bodies, and walking into their bedroom, waking up only when Harry threw her onto the bed, looking like a hungry animal climbing on top of her, his mouth traveling all over her body, sucking and biting the inside of her thighs until it reached the top and licked her clit. All the tension from practice, the daily worries, everything, was gone when his mouth touched her there and did all those wonders to her.

Ginny still remembered the first time Harry had done that to her, that hot, muggy summer after the war, one sunny afternoon when Harry had taken her to her room, all nervous and anxious, saying he wanted to try something new. It was good, confusing, but good. But now, Merlin, now it was perfect. There were no toys that came close to what he did, all that erotic dance with his tongue, taking her to the peak and making her enjoy the delicious fall more and more.

Her throat went dry, her scream scratching as Harry sucked on her clit, his arms holding Ginny firmly in place, preventing her from moving any further.

She saw stars, can't wait any longer, thighs trembling as she began to come, trying not to scream too loudly so that nothing could stand in the way of them both.

"I feel like a new man," Harry said, wiping his beard and moving up to be level with her face, a naughty grin plastered across his face. "Making you come is the best thing in the world." He kissed her, but Ginny was still too much in the clouds to reciprocate in a very excited way, her body looking like jelly on the bed.

"I wish I could suck you back babe, but I miss you inside of me." Ginny muttered, biting his lower lip and moving down to kiss his jaw and neck.

'I don't care too much about it, I want to be inside you too soon' Harry moaned as she spun them around, taking advantage of the fact that he was too focused on her mouth on his neck, and Ginny snuggled into his lap, jerking him a little to buy time for herr body to be ready again. “Fuck, you're going to kill me.” His green eyes darkened, rolling in their sockets.

"Don't die before you fuck me." Ginny chuckled as he moaned once more, her hand tightening a little more at the base of his dick as Harry liked, already sensing she was almost ready.

"No, not in a million years." He arched his back, biting his lip and seeming to try hard not to get carried away before they even started. "I feel like an abstinence junkie."

"I'm glad my pussy has that effect on you." She blinked at him who admired her as if Ginny were a Goddess. She felt so desired when he looked at her like that.

She couldn't take it anymore, she lifted her hips, adjusting to take him inside her, moaning in satisfaction at the feel of Harry opening her, needing to lean against his chest so she wouldn't fall once she was fully seated. That was one of her favorite positions, he touched her in that delicious spot that made Ginny lose consciousness and be taken by fire.

"Fuck." Harry squeezed her hips to keep her from moving, closing his eyes as if in pain, his back arching on the bed. 'Fuck, you feel so good.' Ginny tensed her muscles as she'd learned in that magazine she read in her gynecologist's office, and Harry seemed to lose whatever sanity was left in him, moaning loudly and still clenching his hands, almost to the point of hurting her.

"Like it?" she asked, a satisfied smirk on her face, even though it had taken her out of her orbit as well. Harry nodded, finally letting her move.

"So good," he muttered, finally opening his eyes and staring at her, the green iris making her blush. His hands moved from her hips to her breasts, pinching and massaging her sensitive nipples, and Ginny nearly lost her rhythm and fell on top of Harry with the teasing.

Neither of them could say much more, Ginny quickened her movement, interspersed with the contractions that made her and Harry moan and lose their minds more and more, each time feeling closer to coming again. His trained hands roamed her body, to her nipples, and then to her sensitive clit, playing just enough to make her feel pleasure and not pain.

Ginny thought she would go crazy if she didn't come soon.

Harry looked the same, because suddenly he couldn't wait any longer, squeezing her hips and lifting his, rushing his thrusts and fucking her as if it made him come alive. She didn't care too much, because she felt the same way.

It wasn't long before they both came, Ginny bent down and captured Harry's lips before he made too much noise and woke James, kissing him to keep himself sane, her nails firmly on his shoulders as that electric shock took over her body, the ripples making her lose control.

"I love you," she whispered, feeling Harry pull out of her and his cum trickle out. They would deal with that mess in a little while, Ginny needed to breathe first.

"Me too." Harry looked the same mess as her, body sweaty and arms trembling, he smiled at her. ‘I'm glad to be home again, not having you to sleep at night is unbearable.’

"Just to sleep?" Ginny joked, looking at him like he was still that 16 year old boy she was madly in love with, feeling a lot of new things and not being able to go to sleep without smiling.

'For everything. I told you, I don't know how to live without you anymore, it's like you're my drug and I'm an addict.”

"What a bad comparison." They laughed, Harry hugging her tighter. Ginny rested her head close to his collarbone, feeling entirely happy. She was so happy he was home.

"I know." Harry kissed her head. "But that's how I feel."