#and we met this girl who was a few years older than him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thecapricunt1616 · 11 hours

Text

Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all" ♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father. ♡ W/C: 2.9k ♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately.

If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser.

That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?

Yes please.

You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box.

That was how that night was supposed to go.

How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set.

You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income.

Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it.

Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers.

It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too.

When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.

But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin.

He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say.

“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing.

“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was.

“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything.

“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it.

It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his.

Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face.

Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.

He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey.

Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so.

He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red.

You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off.

When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house.

The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear.

“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..”

“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it.

“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked - and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions.

“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on.

“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“

“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased

“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned.

“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over.

He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school.

“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm.

“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this.

“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack.

“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips

“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation.

The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips

“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny.

“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub.

You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault.

The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?”

You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.

Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went.

He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -

And that bandaid was Tiff.

@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington

#CapriCarmy Oneshot #the bear fic #the bear #borders & banners by saradika #the bear 🐻#the bear fandom #Richie The Bear #richie jerimovich x fem reader #richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich smut #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #Richie Jerimovich x fem!reader #richie jerimovich imagine #Richie Jerimovich blurb #Richie Jerimovich drabble #Richie Jerimovich fanfiction #Richie Jerimovich the bear fanfiction

41 notes · View notes

a-french-coconut · 1 day

Text

Drew Tanaka (Part 8)

Lunch couldn't be more awkward.

Piper refuses to meet her glaze, only talking if Lacy or Mitchell asked her something, like salt and pepper.

"McLean."

Her sister doesn't give any indications she heard her but since Drew is literally sitting in front her, she'll dare make the guess that she's just ignoring her.

"Piper, stop being such a bad loser and listen to me." she says a little more irritated and oh, nothing works more than a snappy remark.

"What ?"

"We need to talk."

"I'm all ears."

"The both of us, it doesn't concern Mitchell and Lacy."

"Oookay," Piper looks at her suspiciously and yet intrigued, "We're free after lunch right ?"

Drew nods, a little surprised with Piper's attitude.

She expected her to be a little more bratty, daughter of big super star Drew has only ever seen a poster of, but it seems that she had been a bad judge of character, for once.

When lunch is over, Drew puts Connor in charge of her siblings and leads Piper to the stables, known place to be alone at Camp.

"So," her sister takes an apple and feed it to Guido," what do you want to talk about ? How you swept the floor with me earlier ?" She smiles bitterly, her hand mindlessly rubbing her thigh, where Drew stabbed her a few hours ago.

"Not exactly, though it has a link with why I went so hard on you."

Drew takes a big breath, trying her best to start this conversation with calm and patience.

"I want to tell me everything you know about Silena Beauregard."

Piper freezes, looking at her with uncertainty.

"Why do you want to talk about our dead sister ?"

"My dead sister, and I want to know what you think Silena was before exposing you the whole picture."

"Drew," Piper frowns, "I already know what you think of Silena, you made it quite clear."

"Indeed, but have you wondered why ?"

"Because you think she's a traitor."

"I don't think she was one Piper, I know, everybody knows."

"But they forgave her, you-"

"didn't, and never will."

"Then why do you want to talk with me about it ? If you think you are going to make me change my mind, you're wrong."

"I wouldn't be so sure, sit will you ? It's a long story."

Piper sits on the ground and Drew on a haystack.

"Okay, I know Silena was a daughter of Aphrodite who dated a guy from Hephaestus, don't remember his name though."

"Charles Beckendorf," Drew smiles sadly, "only Silena could call him Charlie, for everybody else it was Beckendorf."

"Yeah, and then he died and when you guys had to fight in Manhattan, Silena revealed she was the spy after dying trying to fight a dragon."

"It was a drakon actually, there's a difference."

"That's I all know, that she died a hero, knowing she made a mistake and trying to make amends."

"Do you think you know Silena Beauregard then ?"

"In the grand lines, yes." Piper answers from the floor, twirling a twig in her hands.

"In the grand lines," Drew repeats, "what a dignified way to say I don't know shit."

"I do-"

"Ah, ah" she stops her with her hand, "my turn to speak now. Let me tell you everything I know about Silena Beauregard."

Where, on the grand painting of Silena's life should she begin ?

"I met her when I was only a child," she twirls her leather necklace, "I arrived two years before Percy Jackson did and everything went wrong."

She inhales some air, it's been a while since she dared explore her happy memories with Silena.

"She was an amazing older sister, braiding my hair, gossiping with me, teaching me makeup and horse riding. It was scary, you know ? To be a 8 years old girl and find out there are monsters trying to kill you. But Silena, she made all the fears go away."

"She sounds really great," Piper says softly.

"She was," Drew says as softly.

"But anyways, big jump towards six years : Luke went crazy against the gods, waging war on us and Olympus. During that summer, he tried to invade Camp using the Labyrinth to bypass the frontier." Drew's voice breaks at for a moment, all she hears are the monster's screams as they erupted from the maze, "it was the first true battle and they were many casualties."

"Lee Fletcher from Apollo, Will's older brother, Castor from Dioynsus, I think you met Pollux ? They were twins, Sasha from Demeter was also killed during that battle. He was my best friend, even more."

"Oh my gods, Drew, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," she shrugs, "been a while now. Thing is, I had just broke his heart for the Rite of Passage, only two weeks before it happened. And I was so excited to tell him that I liked him, I spent days squealing about all the date we would go on to Silena, and we would laugh together at my crazy ideas." Drew chuckles, "Once, I wanted to have a picnic on clouds, watching the sunset from the sky."

"That's sweet." Piper smiles.

"But the battle happened and I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye, Sasha died thinking I didn't liked him."

She can feel tears gathering in her eyes and does her best to hold them.

"Later," she continues with a wobbly voice, "Silena chose Beckendorf for her rite of Passage. Usually, it lasts one week, two if you're feeling really cruel but their relationship went on and on until they were celebrating monthly anniversaries. When I confronted her about it, she told me she wasn't going to break things off with him. It made me furious, I had just lot Sasha and there she was, thinking herself superior ?" Old, familiar, anger makes its way up before Drew squashes it down. "In the end, she did what she always did, say a few words with her pretty smile and sweet voice and everything was forgotten or forgiven."

"Wait," Piper frowns," are you saying she charmspoke you ?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure. She did about other things though, but don't worry, you'll know everything soon."

"The next summer, we were all tensed up. Percy's birthday was getting closer and closer and sabotaging missions we're issued by the counsellors almost every week. Beckendorf and Percy were ordered to blow up Princess Andromeda, Luke's yatch, but something went wrong." Drew grips the hay she's sitting on, "somebody warn Luke they were coming. Only Percy made it back alive, Beckendorf blew himself up with the ship."

"Oh my gods." Piper says breathless. "But they were-"

"Ssssh, let me speak, it's the best part. When Percy comes back alone, Silena breaks down, muttering nonsense when she enters the cabin and then she drops the bomb," Drew leans as if she was sharing a secret "there's a spy amongst us."

"A spy," she continues "that has been feeding information to Luke for gods know how many time. Someone that has been heartlessly stabbing them in the back while we ate together, laughed together, trained to together. Someone I hated with a burning passion for making my beloved sister cry."

"Do you know why Silena fighting the drakon in the first place ? No ? Well, Apollo and Ares had a feud concerning the flying chariot you arrived at Camp on and Clarisse decided that she and her cabinmates wouldn't fight in the war anymore. Her pride was too wounded. Long story short, only an Ares child can kill a drakon and with them absent, there was no way to win. So, Silena went to rally Ares' children, posing as Clarisse. They were best friends and knew each other well, nobody suspected a thing. Until she died, at least."

"I wasn't there when it happened, busy fighting and saving my siblings' life so I don't know what she did exactly but in the grand lines she revealed she was the traitor."

"I-" Drew stops herself, trying to think what to say next, "When I found out, my brain just short circuited. I couldn't understand why she would do that until memories started to come back, memories Silena had charmspoke me into forgetting that showed Luke and her together, whispering behind the cabins. She liked him, before Beckendorf, she liked Luke."

"And it was so confusing, to love and hate the same person with such intensity ? The urge to grieve while being happy the traitor got what she deserved ? I almost went mad and the only way I found to protect myself was making sure nobody would get as close that Silena did. That's why I was so harsh on you, because you reminded too much of her."

"Me ?" Piper says shocked, and was that a little nervous ? "How ?"

"You refused to the Rite, and your vibe wasn't good either."

"My vibe ?" her sister asks a little amused.

"Yes, your vibe. The one saying I'm not like other girls, I don't care about makeup and all that."

"Oh," Piper puts her hands in her jacket, not looking at Drew, "it wasn't against you, I swear."

"Then what made you like that ?" Drew asks, genuinely curious.

"My dad," Piper sighs, "is a famous actor and he's always busy. I guess that over time, I tried to get his attention by a lot of ways and I didn't want to be the cliche of a star's daughter, all dolled up and just a pretty thing to look at. In addition to that, the girls mocking me at my last school were all always wearing makeup and whatever. I suppose I just made a connection between the two."

"And I certainly didn't help with that, did I ?" Drew winces when Piper gives her a nod, "sorry about that."

"Well," Piper offers her a smile, "I can understand you now so, water under the bridge ?"

"As long as you don't go preaching about how heroic and brave Silena was, it's a deal."

"Mmmh," her sister makes a show of thinking, "yeah I can do that, not like I knew her anyways."

"Oh, now you don't know her ?"

"Are you going to stay bitchy like that ?"

"What can I say, it's one of my best talents."

"Oh yeah, what are the others ? Managing to fashionably wear camp's t-shirt ?" Piper teases her.

"First of all, it is one of them. But no, I was more thinking about how I kicked your ass."

"Wait until I get better," Piper threatens her with her twig, "I have eight months to beat you."

"Maybe if you ask your roman boyfriend to train you, you'll succeed."

"Talking about Jason, I still have a bone to pick with you," Piper looks at her scowling, "do you still have a crush on him ?"

"Oh honey," Drew cackles, "I never had, I just wanted to piss you off. And by Aphrodite, it worked !" Her cackles transforms into full demonic laughter when Piper groans and rolls her eyes, mumbling something about "bitchy sister" and "wait until I train with Jason, you'll see".

THE RECONCILIATION !!

I actually wanted to do it after Piper came back from the Seven quest but then I realised it would mean they stayed angry at each other for four months, something like that, and I went "eeeeeeh, not gonna work."

So they had a healthy talk about their respective attitudes and now they're on friendly ground !

At least until Drew discovers that Piper was working with a giant (:

And it gives her massive SPTSD (Silena Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #drew tanaka #piper mclean #silena beauregard #camp half blood #jason grace

20 notes · View notes

bookwormonastring · 2 years

Text

my nephew slept over for the first time on saturday and he’s entered his fun facts era and i love it so much bc i am also in my fun facts era (eternally) and i love hearing other people’s fun facts

#autistic things #for me not for him #he’s just a little kid who’s learning lots and lots of things and wants to share them #cos that’s what kids do #my fun facts are autism flavoured #it’s cute cos the first time he came here #we went to the beach and we were looking for crabs #and we met this girl who was a few years older than him #my nephew was 5 then i think (he’s 6 now) and she was maybe 7?#and she’d clearly just learnt the word habitat bc she said it like every other sentence #and this weekend he was like that with the word predator #i love watching kids learn things and see how proud they are of it #as they should be!!#to be alone with queue

2 notes · View notes

cherry-leclerc · 7 months

Text

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.

5K notes · View notes

skyahri · 2 months

Text

Arranged Marriage |Zuko X Reader| HC

Summary: Caught up in his personal conflict, Zuko completely neglects his marriage.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, forced marriage, whatever. Mentions of violence. Angsty Zuko and reader. Fem pronouns.

- - - - -

You'd married Zuko a little over a year into his reign as Fire Lord. You're the oldest daughter from a noble family, and the council decided it was best if Zuko married someone well liked by the community.

He didn't take it well. He was still hoping Mai would come back to him, and you being there completely obliterated those chances.

Not that there was a shot to begin with. Mai had made it abundantly clear that she wanted nothing to do with Zuko, even if she admitted to still having feelings for him.

Your relationship was staged to be perfect in the eyes of the people. Young love against all odds sort of thing.

The marriage ceremony was beautiful. Your robes were elegant, the flowers were perfect, and even your soon-to-be husband was handsome.

Zuko was charming towards the guests, really selling the story and gaining a lot of trust with his people. He was awkward but personable, something everyone ate up.

But he wasn't like that with you.

As soon as the two of you were away from public eyes, he didn't so much as look your way.

You slept in different rooms and ate at opposite ends of the table. He excluded you from as many duties as he could, stating something about him not wanting to concern you.

Life in a palace was pretty isolating. The only people you could talk to were servants, and even then, your topics were extremely limited.

You'd taken to the gardens as much as possible. It felt nice to be outside and even better to see the plants and animals.

Tending to the flowers was one of the few things you were allowed to do without constant eyes on you. The lonely atmosphere felt intentional instead of forced.

But after a year of this, not even the newly budding flowers could heal your disdain. Your once bubbly exterior had been chipped away by the dread and disappointment that lingered in your heart.

You were truly just a shell of your former self by this point.

There was no change with Zuko. He'd made no effort to get to know you or even just not hate you. Any attempt you'd made in the beginning to soften the relationship had been put out the moment it left your lips. It seemed like public pleasantries would be the extent of your marriage.

You'd long given up on trying to befriend the older women who waited on you. They had no desire to be anything more than the people who got you through the day.

You'd given up on trying to sneak away with the kitchen staff to the market. They feared being held responsible for you, even if you claimed to be plenty capable of taking care of yourself.

All that was really left to do was to just stay quiet and look pretty. The sad fate of the Fire Lord's wife.

You'd been laying in bed all morning. It was one of the few days where nothing was planned. No meetings, no guests, no events- nothing.

Well, at least you thought.

"Miss Y/N, Lord Zuko has requested your presence. We must get you ready immediately."

They'd dragged you out of bed and stuffed you into a pair of your nicest robes. They're doing your hair up and rushing to cover your face in makeup.

"Why am I being summoned?"

"The Avatar and his friends have arrived. They were the ones to request you."

"I see."

It made sense. You had met the Gaang at your wedding, and they were everything you'd expected; kind, loud, and passionate. Just like Zuko was said to be.

At the time, they'd promised to come by often, but you hadn't seen them since. You'd heard something about the rebuilding of the air temple and having some unexpected issues arise, so they just hadn't had time until now.

You met Zuko at the front gates. His friends arrived just after, allowing the servants to take their things to their rooms. Without a word, Katara grabbed your arm and dragged you away with the other girls. You turned back to see the same happening with Zuko and the boys.

They pulled you all around the surrounding area. For the first time in a long time, the dread started to fade away.

You'd bought some new incense, hair pins, and seeds for the flower beds. They were small purchases in comparison to the others, who had gone all out with new clothes, trinkets, and a heap of spicy snacks for Sokka.

You'd suggested several times over the last few hours that it was time to head back to the palace, but only now that it was growing dark did the trio actually listen.

Just as you had begun packing up, a string of explosions started on the next block and made its way towards the plaza you were in.

Toph was quick to make a stone barrier, but that didn't stop the cloud of soot from staining your skin and clothes.

A group of men had emerged from the smoke and revealed themselves to be Ozai supporters. Not everyone was pleased with the fundamentals Zuko was running the country on, so rebels had started causing a bit of an uproar.

Katara, Toph, and Suki did their best to take the men down swiftly, but that didn't stop you from getting injured in the process.

Your forearms had been severely burned when you'd covered your face from an attack. Katara offered to heal you, but it'd have to wait until you got back to the palace where her spirit water was.

The trip back was uneventful. Some of the local guards stationed in the city had insisted on escorting you guys back, which at this point you couldn't deny.

Apparently, word had already gotten back to Fire Lord Zuko, who was waiting at the front doors of the palace for your arrival.

He immediately stepped forward and picked up your hand, letting the scorched fabric fall and reveal your burn. He did the same with the other and sighed.

"Please give us the room."

You watched as everyone filed out of the room, the guards towards the exit and your friends towards the south wing.

"These are severe,"

He cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head so he could get a good look. His thumb swiped over some of the soot on your face.

You were confused by his actions, but the pain from your burns created a bit of a blur in your mind, keeping you from thinking too hard about it.

"The others couldn't protect you?"

"They did what they could. I apologize for the hassle-"

"Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault."

You opted to stay silent. You weren't sure what to say. This is the longest conversation you'd had in private since you'd met, and you were finding it hard to navigate.

It was silent for a minute. The vibe was awkward, and you desperately wanted to hide away from all of it.

His face contorted slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. You didn't pry. It didn't feel like your place to ask.

"Why don't you head to your room for a bath, and I'll have Katara meet you in there once you're done."

You nodded and made your way down the corridor. You stripped down and opted to just toss your clothes in the trash. Between the ash and scorch marks, there was no saving anything.

The second the water touched your wounds, you winced. Tears pricked your eyes as you watched small bits of charred skin go down the drain. The pain quickly went from a sharp sting to almost mind-numbing. You sat down and let the water just run down your body while you waited for the brunt of the discomfort to pass.

In your hazy state of mind, you hadn't heard the knock on the door, so you were surprised when Zuko entered in much more casual clothing.

When he saw you hunched over on the shower floor, he didn't say anything. He moved to the side of the tub and went to touch you, but you weakly swatted his hands away.

"I'm not comfortable with you being in here whole I'm naked."

"I'm your husband-"

"You're a stranger."

Ouch. Harsh but fair, and he knew it.

"Look, I know I haven't been good to you over the past year, and I'm sorry. We can talk about it more when you're feeling better, but for now just let me take care of you."

Satisfied with his response, you stopped resisting his help. You let him wash your hair and scrub your skin. His touch was gentle despite how rough his hands were.

He never once made you feel uncomfortable. He was thourough but never lingered. It was almost as if this was a normal occurrence.

When he was done, he offered you a towel and left you alone in the bathroom to get dressed. When you entered your bedroom, Katara was on your bed, but Zuko was nowhere in sight.

"Just me. Sorry to disappoint."

"No, no. I'm glad you're here."

You sat in front of her on the bed and let her examine your burns. She positioned your arms for easy access and opened her canister. You watched the water glow and the skin slowly heal itself. It was amazing, nothing like anything youd seem before.

"So," she broke the silence, "Has he warmed up to you at all?"

You were surprised by her words. You weren't sure how much they knew or what all you should say. Last thing you wanted to do was incriminate him.

Sensing your hesitation to respond, Katara clarified her question.

"I know everything, at least, from his side. You can be honest with me."

"Honest?"

"Honest."

A small smile crept onto your face.

"I think you're friend is an ass."

"I couldn't agree more."

You told her everything; the loneliness, the isolation, the lack of, well, everything in your relationship and life. She listened, something you're eternally grateful for. It felt nice just to get it off your chest instead of suffering silently.

"Today was the greatest day I've had in a long time. I got to leave the palace and talk to people and for once it felt like my husband didn't hate me."

"Zuko doesn't hate you."

"Could've fooled me."

"He doesn't hate you. Just talk to him. I know he has a lot to say, and it seems you do as well."

Once your arms were healed good as new, Katara left your quarters and returned to her own. You'd crawled under the covers and passed out, completely exhausted from the day.

The next day, you took Katara's advice and decided to speak with Zuko. You woke up early, before the sun had risen and made your way to his room.

He was surprised to see you, much less in your nightwear at such an hour. He invited you in nonetheless, where you then entered and decided to sit on his bed. You patted the spot in front of you, and he hesitantly sat.

"Katara said we should talk."

"Okay."

Sensing that he wasn't going to be the one to initiate anything, you decided to get the ball rolling.

It was a long conversation. Zuko confessed a lot of things, mostly about bitter feelings towards life and guilt over his actions. He apologized for everything and listened to everything you had to say. He made a lot of promises to be better.

He stuck to his word. He began including you in anything you were welcome to. Dinners became more personal, and eventually, you started sleeping in his room like a proper married couple.

By the time team Avatar had visited again, things had visibly changed. You were both happier, and your once fake marriage had become real. You meshed into the group just fine, making the pseudo family that much bigger.

All thanks to a simple conversation.

#avatar the last airbender #avatar #atla #zuko #prince zuko #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko angst #zuko fluff #zuko hc #zuko headcanon

1K notes · View notes

tayytayy12 · 1 month

Text

Bad for business | PG10 x Reader

Summary - Reader and her boyfriend Pierre have a larger age gap than most relationships, and that causes people to leave some hate for them both, but they don’t care, they have each other.

Warnings - Age gap (everything is legal, imagine kika and Pierre), small but if hate, swearing

Type - SMAU

Requested - No - Yes

FaceClaim - Olivia Rodrigo

Yourusername

Liked by - Pierregasly, Lilymhe and 1,082,197 others

Tagged | @/PierreGasly

Yourusername - A week off well spent with my love 💕

View all comments

User1 - My parents

User2 - This is just so icky ugh

User3 - Y/n and her grandpa 💕

User4 - I love Y/n and her music but promoting her relationship with a big age gap to her mostly young audience isn’t it

User5 - Finally someone said it

GracieAbrams - My babyyyy 💕💕

Yourusername - I miss youuu 🥲

User5 - She’s so pretty

User6 - I need a relationship like theirs

User7 - A weird one?

PierreGasly

Liked by - Yourusername, CarmenMundt and 972,992 others

Tagged - @/Yourusername

PierreGasly - A week without racing, a week with my love 🤍

View all comments

User8 - Oh..

User9 - They both know that this very public relationship with this age gap can’t be good for their careers

User10 - IM DONE WITH THE Y/NPIERRE HATERS, THEYRE EVEYTHING

User11 - LITERALLY THEYRE JUST JEALOUS

User12 - What would be jealous of?

User13 - The fact that no one your age wants you, let alone someone that’s A FEW years older xx

User14 - Ppl can hate all they want but he makes her happy, she lit wrote Enchanted about him after one interaction, he clearly means a lot and treats her right

Liked by author

User15 - Fr and from then on she’s wrote Paper rings, YOU ARE IN LOVE, and so many other songs about him

User16 - And she wrote ‘This Love’ about Y/ex/n, then proceeded to write ‘All too well’ about him, people can hide shit stuff relationships well yk

User17 - FR, we’re just looking out for her

User18 - Pierre needs to learn this girl is bad for business

User19 - Y/NPIERRE THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU

User20 - I need your guys relationship

Yourusername

Liked by - PierreGasly, LandoNorris and 1,927,939 others

Yourusername - As many of you know me and my boyfriend, Pierre, have an age gap of a few years. We understand that it’s maybe bigger than most, but it’s legal, we were both fully grown adults when we met. We didn’t jump in head first like everyone insists we did, we actually care for each other, a lot actually. We don’t care about your hate, it doesn’t affect us, but any of you claiming that your ‘looking out for us’ when your just leaving vile comments aren’t fans, you’re people who can’t tell that we’re happy exactly how we are.

I deal with shit by writing about it, so my brand new song ‘Bad For Business’ is out now, hope you like it.

View all comments

User21 - She didn’t put one heart in that whole thing you guys pissed her offff

User22 - LMAO SHE SHUT YOU GUYS DOWN

User23 - “He’s good for my heart but he’s bad for business” STOP IT.

User24 - She shut you haters downnn

User25 - As she should

User26 - Where all you haters at now

User27 - Oh she ate with this one

PierreGasly - Mon ange 🤍

Yourusername - My love 🤍

User28 - “they don’t know me like my baby” devoured

PierreGasly

Liked by - Yourusername, Charles_Leclerc and 1,001,010 others

Tagged | @/Yourusername

PierreGasly - She was right, if you’ve ever hated on us for being happy, you’re not a fan, you’re a bully.

I love you, Mon Ange 🤍

View all comments

User29 - All the haters a bit TOO quite now hmm

Yourusername - I love youuuu 💕

PierreGasly - I love you more 🤍

////

597 notes · View notes

in-my-feels-probably · 7 days

Note

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone.

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway.

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet.

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled.

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life.

None of them mattered.

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile.

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence.

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels.

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way.

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars.

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye.

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score.

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop.

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you.

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips.

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard.

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you.

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail.

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like.

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better.

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen.

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door.

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting.

The feeling was mutual.

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child.

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest.

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

#challengers x reader #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #taylor swift #so high school #ttpd #the tortured poets department #the anthology

577 notes · View notes

trivia-yandere · 9 months

Note

request for yandere!ex-husband jk trying to prevent oc from divorcing him 💀😭 (only because they got a child together and he loves her more than anything but she just can’t take him anymore)

hello! yes we can :) this one might take a little turn but this is a yandere account so

nefarious

You knew who Jungkook was prior to having his children and marrying him, so you serving him with divorce papers wasn't going to do anything but anger him.

@momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree

word count: 4.442

warning: yandere themes/tendancies, non-consenual touching/rape, smut, cursing, dark theme, spitting, degradation, possessiveness, fingering, dirty talking, emotional/mental manipulation, biting, restraining, crying, slapping,

“Get it out of my sight.” Jungkook tosses the paper away aggressively with a roll of his eyes. One of his men - Sung-ho, stands straighter to appear obedient. “That bitch thinks she’s going to divorce me after I made her?” Jungkook leans back into his chair with a huff. He shakes his head. “After I got her out of the slums she was living in?”

Jungkook’s eyes glance at the picture onto his desk - one of you and him on your wedding day. He grasps it and hurls it at Sung-ho who barely manages to dodge the attack. “You find that bitch and bring her back to me!” he screeches, eyes wide with rage. Sung-ho truly had no reason to be a part of Jungkook’s rage and he would make sure to apologize about it another time.

It’s been three months.

Three months since Jungkook has allowed you your little vacation away from him. And now you dare serve him with divorce papers that claimed that you wanted full custody of his daughters - you were insane. You had no job and had not worked in the last five years you and he had been married. You swiped his card without a care in the world and wasted close to millions since then - as a man and your husband, he never bat an eye.

But to think that you were willing to divorce him because - by your words - Jungkook was not the man he claimed to be was preposterous. You knew the type of man he was - the same man who you kept returning to every night to wet his cock and warm his bed. The same man who gave you lavish gifts every week and the same man who managed to not only marry you, but grace you with two of his offspring.

So what if he orchestrated a few murders every now and then? Or stole money and expensive pieces during heists? Sold a few (thousands) pounds of unthinkable drugs? You lived in a mansion, his daughters and you wanted for nothing - isn't that what a man was supposed to do? Ensure his family was alright? Why the fuck did it matter what he did as long as you and his girls were safe?

Jungkook knew you had no problem with what he did for work. Your problem was that you clearly missed him - he had to be gone the majority of the time and that left you in such a large mansion to care for the children alone. But a divorce? Wasn’t that a little excessive? No, this was nothing but a little stunt to get his attention and clearly, now you had it.

Sure Jungkook and you didn’t meet on simpler terms - normal people met at coffee shops. Maybe out grocery shopping. Hell, social media and dating sites were normal now.

No, Jungkook and you met during one of many (unbeknownst to you) bank heists he had gone on. You recall the day had been fairly slow, only a few people coming in every hour. You had been assisting an older man when the doors slammed open and a group of men entered.

The men wore all black and wore masks that covered their entire head. They pointed guns at everyone, telling them to get down. You - of course it had to be you - were escorted to the back. To think that this wasn’t even your shift initially and you picked it up from a fellow co-worker.

But again, you weren’t as normal either. Jungkook noticed how you appeared to not take anything serious. He pointed his gun at you and though he would never use it - hurting women and children was not his forte - you didn’t know this.

Jungkook knew you were different when you flirted with him as you opened the safe. If this was your way to assure your safety, then it was a weird way to go.

“Do you do this often?” you speak as Jungkook fills the bags with stacks upon stacks of cash. “I always wondered what robbing a bank would be like.”

You. You were a weird one. But Jungkook liked it.

“I saw something like this in a porno once.”

Jungkook halts in his tracks, unable to control his thoughts. He turns towards you, eye sockets - dark and nearly invisible to you, stare at your grinning figure.

“The robbers break in and find a defenseless woman…” you lean back onto the wall, tilting your head. “...take advantage of her. But deep down, we both know she wanted it.”

Jungkook was ashamed of himself for allowing himself to be consumed by you. You had all the control that day and you knew it. You enticed him so much that he was able to forget about the heist all together and that’s when he found himself inside of you - ravishing you against the very wall you leaned against.

What could Jungkook say? He was a man and you were a willing participant. You begged him for more, edged him on as he fucks you. You liked the way he was treating you - hands clenching your neck, the manhandling. You started this, all Jungkook did was follow your lead.

“I could say you raped me.”

There it was - the kicker.

You could say that indeed. You had managed to not only get Jungkook off of his game to fuck you - but to do so without a condom. Jungkook had been so excited by you that he came the hardest he has in months - right inside of you. His cum drips out of your pussy and down your thighs, you not even bothering to wipe it up.

“Say that you took advantage of me and when they do a rape kit…” you shrug.

Jungkook points his gun at your head, but both of you knew that he wasn’t going to pull any triggers. You sensed no threat when it came from this man - Jungkook is who he would soon introduce himself as.

“What do you want?” This is the first time you have heard Jungkook’s voice. He was young, you note, his cock and stamina confirming it. Possibly around the same age as you.

“Money.” you shrug your shoulders. “But I can’t take it now.” you laugh. “I guess that means I’ll have to see you again, huh?”

Jungkook swallows. He’s thankful the mask remained on his face and you didn’t see his red cheeks and shocked expression.

“How about I give you my number and you can call me later?” you offer.

“I could kill you later.” Jungkook retorts.

“You can kill me now.” you fire back. “Your friends can kill the entire bank and get away with it. Burn it down and get rid of any evidence you have left inside of me.”

Jungkook swallows.

“But you know that. You’re a smart boy.” There you were flirting with him again. “If you wanted to hurt me, you would have. Truth is, I could care less about this job and my life is quite boring. All I want is a little company. Who better than a random thief with obviously nothing else better to do?”

Jungkook found that from right there he was fucked and you were truly a vixen - an agent of chaos sent from Hell (Heaven would never allow something like you) to torment him. But he was rather intrigued for the first time in who knows how long.

“What’s your name?” Jungkook asked.

“Y/N.”

Jungkook lowers his gun. “Jungkook.”

You chugged the champagne down in nearly one gulp and slammed the glass onto your vanity. Your eyes dart to your reflection in the mirror and you scoff. You should have known Jungkook wasn’t going to let you go without a fight.

You recall the way all hell had broke loose when Jungkook had found you. Your daughters were at school luckily and didn’t have to see their father’s demeanor change. He told you it wasn’t hard finding your hotel room and slamming the door open. You had been dozing off when he entered and Jungkook was anything but content.

“I allowed this little break to go on long enough, Y/N.” Jungkook was aggressively grabbing your belongings, hauling them onto the bed. “Pack your shit.”

“No.” you hissed.

“No?” Jungkook scoffs. “You think you’re going to divorce me and take my daughters?” Jungkook wants to laugh at how stupid you sounded. “With no job?”

“I’ve been saving money.” you retort, eyes glaring at him.

“Oh,” Jungkook snickers with a clap of his hands. “So you’ve been planning on leaving me for a while. What’s changed?”

Jungkook came closer to you. He looked manic, eyes wide and glaring into your soul.

“You even threatened to expose me if I didn’t give you a divorce.” Jungkook is livid. “Take down all of my legitimate businesses just to divorce me? You think you’ll get away with that, baby?”

Jungkook was never one to be rough with you, but he’s pissed. He pushes you onto the bed and hovers about you. “You don’t think you’ll go down with me? You tell them what I do on the side, I’ll tell them you were alongside me the entire way. We’ll both go to jail and our daughters…” Jungkook shrugs. “They’ll go to my brother.”

Your eyes widen at Jungkook’s words. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Take me down, Y/N. You’re going with me.” Jungkook pushed himself away from you. “Pack your shit and let's go home.” he hissed, not waiting for a response from you.

And now here you sat in said home. You were fresh from a long shower, having ignored Jungkook the following days and only tended to your daughter's needs.

You were feeling bitchy today, however, and decided that if Jungkook didn’t want to give you a divorce - that you were going to force him to. That, or annoy him until you felt as though you were done.

You continued to lotion your skin until it glowed, then you grabbed the perfume bottle - one of the many expensive gifts from Jungkook - and sprayed it until you knew it would linger. You take one last look in the mirror before smiling to yourself.

“We haven’t done a bank heist in years.” Jimin says with furrowed brows, bored and a little offended with the conversation. “We aren’t children anymore. Are we going broke?”

Jungkook snorts, but leans back into his chair. He pours himself the whiskey - courtesy of Yoongi - and lifts his eyes to the surrounding men that he considers brothers.

“I agree.” Taehyung nods. “Bank heists are for the lower ranks. Who’s idea was this?”

“Mine.” Jungkook slams the shot glass down onto the table and shakes his head at the powerful taste. “Don’t you guys remember the adrenaline rush?”

Namjoon snorts with a roll of his eyes. “Leave it to the baby of the group to say this.” he murmurs, a smirk forming onto his lips.

The doors of the meeting room open and heads turn towards the noise. Jungkook’s eyes land on you - and your lack of clothes all together. You adorn lingerie, black and lacy that fits you perfectly. His eyes darken when he meets your gaze.

Jimin is interested now. He leans forward and waves at you. “Y/N, hello.” he says. You were always Jimin’s favorite out of the girls Jungkook had brought around - one of the main reasons being that you actually became a wife. You didn’t remain someone he left in the shadows of his bedroom and actually gave him two adorable nieces.

And of course, you and Jungkook were one of the same. You were stubborn and took no shit and Jungkook got a taste of his own medicine. One of the countless reasons why you two bumped heads often - but it made for great make-up sex.

“Jimin.” you wave back. “I missed you. You don’t come around as much.”

Jungkook watches you with glaring eyes as you make your way closer.

“Y/N.” Jungkook’s tone is low - a warning. Not now, he wants to say. He had no time for your petty bullshit.

“You know me, I always keep busy.” Jimin continues the conversation as if you aren’t wearing the bare minimum - but Jimin didn’t see you in that way. Plus, he loved annoying Jungkook just like you did.

“That you do.” You reach the edge of the table, grasping a glass and a half empty bottle of brandy. “I see you all been drinking without me.”

“Y/N.” Jungkook continues, leaning forward. His firsts were clenching as he awaits for you to answer him.

Taehyung fights back the cackle. It was always something when it came to Jungkook and you. The fights were never to be taken seriously - it always ended the same way. You and he entangled together declaring how much you pissed the other off.

“You’ve been ignoring us lately.” Taehyung pipes in. “What did we do to deserve the cold shoulder?”

Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift. You were mocking him - he was once told by Yoongi that he allowed you to walk all over him and he was beginning to agree. You had no respect for him - and even his brothers were going along with your foolishness.

“I’m sorry.” you sigh, pouring yourself the brandy and glancing at Jungkook. “Maybe when the divorce is finalized-”

There it was - the cherry on top. Jungkook’s chair screeches as he pushes himself away from the table and lifts himself up. He’s fast as he rounds it and lunges at you. However, you’re just as fast at hauling your drink into his face.

Jimin watches in amusement as Jungkook pulls you over his shoulder as if you were a toddler throwing a tantrum. He rushes out of the room - slamming the door open with a loud bang while you’re punching at his back.

“Well then.” Namjoon claps his hands, shaking his head. He allows a few laughs to be released from his lips.

“I think this little get together is over.” Hoseok continues.

Jungkook is livid when he slams the bedroom door open just to slam it shut behind him. He shoves you off of him and onto the king sized bed. You fall on your back with a grunt, bouncing off until you catch yourself.

“You think you’re cute, huh?” Jungkook grumbles, towering over you. He would admit that he wanted to be furious with you - but your attire didn’t help him. You knew what you were doing to piss him off but you wearing his favorite perfume was doing nothing but distracting him.

“Had to do something to get your attention.” you retort, swallowing when your eyes meet the bulge in his pants.

“Ah, so that’s what it is?” Jungkook tsks. He isn't hesitant to push you back, hand wrapping around your neck. “You missed me, baby. I haven’t been as attentive to you as a husband.”

It’s his knee you feel so close to your heat, the friction causing you to groan. Jungkook was always the one to take control, never fully allowing you to unless it's what he desired.

“Why must you always take things too far?” Jungkook loosens his grip onto your neck, palm gliding down to your breast. “Am I not good to you?”

“You see me as nothing but a whore!” you hiss, turning away from him. Jungkook does notice the way your thighs quiver and your hips jut towards his knee for friction.

“A whore, no.” Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh. “My whore? Yes.” His eyes are burning into yours, offering the same venom you were giving him. “My whore to fuck, to please, to care for. You’re mine, Y/N.”

Jungkook moves his knee from your heat to replace it. His palm slaps it roughly, wet spot not going unnoticed. You shiver at the impact, ashamed that your body was giving away just what he was doing to you. You felt weak when it came to Jungkook - married for five years and together for nearly 7, he knew your body like the back of his hand.

Jungkook slaps your clothed clit more - over and over again until your juices are soaked through the lingerie, and even then he doesn’t want to stop his torment.

Jungkook’s fingers dig through the lacy fabric of your lingerie to toy with your clit. So wet - so inviting. He could never get enough of your pussy.

“You ignore me days just to show up in lingerie you knew was going to drive me crazy.” Jungkook rubs along your throbbing clit, bulge twitching at just how sopping wet you are. “Then you say it again. Threaten me with divorce.” Jungkook’s scoffing now. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time.

Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you, not bothering to give you any warning - nor be gentle in the slightest.

“You make it seem like life with me is bad.” Jungkook begins pumping his fingers inside of you. Your body gives him the reaction he always expects - clenching walls, juices flowing down his wrist and flinching form.

You want to push Jungkook away, to say that you aren’t his anything. You wanted out of this marriage from him - you were nothing but someone he had control over and you allowed it for far too long. It didn’t feel like a marriage between two lovers, instead you felt trapped in a home and made to be nothing but a body to warm his bed every night. The only gift you could truly appreciate from Jungkook was your daughters.

However, it was your body. Your body could never agree on what your mind was telling it to - you find yourself moaning lowly at his thrusting fingers. Jungkook is pissed, and when he is it tends to show in the way he pleases you. Dominant and in control.

Jungkook’s tongue licks upon your cheek. Hot, wet and slimy - all before he spits onto you. In his eyes, the ultimate sign that you were truly his.

“I fucked over enough people in my lifetime that they have given up trying to take it out on me.” Jungkook’s pumping only increases. “You and our daughters are the true targets that they know could truly get to me. I’ve done nothing but kept you and them safe.”

Your eyes roll when you feel the familiar bubbling churning in your stomach. The wet slapping of Jungkook’s fingers inside of you are echoing filthy throughout the bedroom.

“Leave.” Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you just when you were seconds away from releasing. “If you want the divorce so bad, then I’ll give it to you. Our daughters are staying with me.”

You’re panting, high coming back down to Earth. Your eyes flutter open to see Jungkook pushing himself away from you.

“I’m not leaving without them.”

“Too bad.” Jungkook shrugs. “You want the divorce. You leave and you’ll see them whenever you come here. Take whatever money you saved and find yourself somewhere to go.”

“You’re bluffing.” you find the courage to say, but your voice is so low and meek.

Jungkook hums, lips twitching as he watches you. Poor you, eyes wide and chest heaving. You never truly thought he would give you what you asked for - no matter how brattish and petty you’ve been towards him.

Jungkook was going to show you just how much you needed him and not the other way around. You were his woman regardless and no divorce was ever going to change that - not even in death would he allow you to part ways with him. He just had to show you how truly vile the world was without him.

Jungkook strokes your hair as you continue to cry in his arms, visibly shaking and trembling. Your fingers are clenching onto his shirt tight as if never wanting to let him go.

How the tables have truly turned - but all Jungkook could think was “I told you so”.

You were only gone a week and it was all it took for you to find yourself in trouble. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that revenge toward him was sought out by harming those he loved.

You sat in your hotel room when the knock sounded onto the door. You had ordered food not long ago, so when the knock sounded you wasted no time in going to open it.

Your first mistake.

Your door crashes open when you unlock it and you’re shoved onto the ground. You don’t manage to scream when you feel your screams being muffled. There's two of them, you note, both men. Their clothing was dark and loose fitted and their face had been hidden completely, you can see from a facial mask to cover their mouth and scarf on top of their heads. You couldn’t make out the eyes, yet you weren’t intended to. You were flipped onto your front quickly when one man had yanked you onto your feet, face burying into the hotel bed.

Your legs and arms thrashed around in an attempt to free yourself from the men, but you quickly realized that it was pointless - and that you were doing nothing but exhausting yourself.

Your eyes swell with tears, anxiety peaking when you realize that this might be what Jungkook was talking about - your mind telling you that there was no way you were leaving here alive.

Your arms are restrained by one man while the other pulls at your clothing. Your legs shiver when your pajama pants are ripped and you’re exposed to the cool air of the room

You feel nauseous and your head is pounding at the thought of you being defiled by these men - that you were in this situation at all.

You managed to lift your head to breathe, a choked sob releasing from your throat. Your tears blinded your vision, but you could see in the corner of your eye flesh - the man behind you ripping your clothing off. Without thinking, you sink your teeth into his skin in hopes of buying you time for an escape.

A hiss sounds through your ears and you feel a sting across your cheek. Your arms are being restrained tighter until you feel them cramp and sob.

You pleaded and begged for them to leave you alone - that you’d give them whatever money you had saved. Your pleas fell on deaf ears and you realized what they truly wanted was you.

You clenched your eyes shut when you felt yourself being stuffed by the man behind you. He wastes no time in pumping inside of you, not caring just how uncomfortable it felt for the both of you. You feel something wet, warm and slimy drip onto your folds, you conclude he had spit onto you to get any form of lubricant.

The thrusts are brutal and his hands upon you are tight and unmoving. Your sobs do not subside and you feel as though your body is betraying you. It didn’t feel good to you - you felt disgusting and utterly embarrassed; especially with the grunting sounds from the man defiling you. But your body is allowing this to happen, naturally lubricating your walls for more - your stomach churning and bubbling to reach a high you didn’t desire.

Skin slapping echoes off the wall and you had no tears left in you to cry. You wanted this torture to end, to be freed from the nightmare - but the man was cruel. You feel his hand tuck themselves beneath you and fingers twirl at your clit. You cry upon impact, shaking your head.

“She likes it.” you hear faintly - it had to be the man restraining you. His voice felt so far away even if he was right across from you.

The man behind you grunts, hips snapping into you roughly, fingers toying your clit harshly. Your pussy clenches around him unwillingly and you remain shaking your head - you didn’t want this. Your body doesn’t understand the difference between this and what it's use to.

“She’s about to cum.” the muffled voice from the man restraining you says. He holds onto your arms tighter as his partner flips you around. You come face to face with the masked person and your heart drops. You close your eyes, not wanting the man to see your reaction.

“It’s okay to like it. Whore’s like you love this, don’t you?”

The man doesn’t stop his thrusts - no, he appears to be thrusting into you even harder. Your moans of protest fill the room, but to these men, they were moans nonetheless.

Hands clamp around your neck and another around your lips. It silences you completely and you no longer have any strength in trying to protest. You felt your walls clench around the masked man until you were finally letting go around him unwillingly, but by then you were losing consciousness.

“I told you the outside world isn’t the place for you, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs into your hair. “You’re lucky I came just in time. Who knows what they were planning on doing to you.”

Your tears are now soaking Jungkook’s shirt, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to let you go - and now he would never have to.

“Come on. Let’s get you in the shower, yeah?” Jungkook says, pushing you away to look at your tear-stained face. “I love you, Y/N. Always.”

You sniffled, feeling yourself fall apart all over again. Your head crashes into his chest and your hold on him becomes tighter. “I-I’m sorry.” you apologize. You should have heed his warning - that you were safe with him. He kept you in this mansion for this long because the outside world was indeed not safe - you and your daughters could never be safe if it wasn’t with Jungkook. You’re grateful that you had not taken them with you. Who knows what the masked men would’ve done to them.

Once Jungkook manages to get you into the shower, he closes the bathroom door behind him with a sigh. He gets your pajamas ready for you when you’re out and some sleeping pills - you’d need it if you were going to get a good night's sleep.

Jungkook proceeds to lift his sleeve up and sigh at the mark on his wrist. It was beginning to sting. You managed to draw blood when you bit him - but he was grateful that the wound wasn’t too severe.

After all, Yoongi’s plan had worked. Jungkook regained his control over you - even if he had to take desperate measures and insert fear. But, he had you nonetheless - his wife.

part two (prequel) a look back into your and jungkook's fatal attraction - before the marriage, kids and the detachment coming soon...

#bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #btswritingcafe #btswritersclub #btswriterscollective #jungkook smut #yandere bts #bts smut #trivia-yandere #jungkook x reader #jungkook yandere #jungkook angst #jungkook husband #mafia bts #mafia jungkook #gangster jungkook #gangster bts #nefarious

2K notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 5 months

Text

Baby, can you call me back? I miss you... its so lonely in our mansion - Lewis Hamilton x Model! Reader

Plot: You are the 'IT GIRL' of celebrities right now. Dating older F1 driver cooks up a storm.

Warnings: Age Gap, Established relationship, Smut (Consisting off Unprotected Sex, Fingering, P In V etc.) Minors Do Not Interact 18+

Credit to alexalbongf for the GIF

You were currently waiting for Lewis to come home, it was the Monaco GP and you'd left early during his debrief as you were sporting a slight headache from all the excitement.

He knew you'd be there and he knew you were waiting for him. You were sort of a current century IT girl.

That happens when you are on the cover of vouge and in big blockbuster movies alongside modelling for Versace and other big brands that wanted your name.

You were all the talk in the media for the past few years, especially where you were dating Lewis Hamilton. He was 10 year older than you, but he treated you well. Even though you were 23 when you and Lewis started dating, people still seemed to treat you like you were made of glass. Yes, that was probably more to your high profile status and the fact that you're in the public eye.

Lewis treated you like an adult and you loved it, he wasn't in the relationship for publicity or just for a quick time. He had met you at exclusive party that you happened to be at as well as some of the 2018 F1 drivers.

Now in the middle of 2024 and Mercedes had a rocketship for a car, Lewis was on track for winning his 8th World Champion, you and Lewis had been together for 7 years now and what an interesting 7 years it had been. You'd been there for him winning 3 of his championships, seeing him get robbed of his 8th and then have a shit car for the next two seasons while Red Bull seem to be in a horrible sort of domination.

He'd won in Monaco today sharing a Podium with Lando Norris, who was actually his biggest competition this year. Mclaren came out on top, right now it was Mercedes Mclaren and Ferrari dancing around each other and then Red Bull who focused on their 2025 car too early and didn't do enough work with the 2024 car.

The door to the home opens and in walks your beautiful husband.

"How's my race winner" you smile at him, walking over to him slowly. He hangs the keys up to his car on the hook before his hands wrap around your waist pulling you into a hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck, his arms travelling up to stroke your soft hair, running down to the side of your face to hold your face steadily in his hand.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you all day!" he offers, pushing your hair back behind your ear before leaning in, kissing you softly.

"You were thinking about me when you were racing?" you ask with a smirk, stepping closer into him so your arms are able to hold his upper arms, helping you lean up to place a soft, yet sensual kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"I'm always thinking about you baby" he mumbles looking you up and down.

"Well, I think my World Champion deserves a reward!" you smile, grinning at him.

"Mmmmm what kind of reward, I can think of 20 things I'd settle for right now" he admits biting his lip.

"Well, I don't know about you but your fav vegan dish is in the oven. I can run you a nice hot bath and give you a massage, or we can take Rossi on a walk, or we can watch a movie and cuddle.." you say leaning closer into him.

"Hmmmmm, that all sounds very good. But first i want you!" he says pulling into you. He pulls you up so your legs are wrapped around his waist and your arms around around the back of his head. He holds you up while pulling you into a kiss.

He walks you into the bedroom and places you down on the bed, making you bounce into the plush duvet and cushions. You lean up and you elbows moving back a little while Lewis crawls on top of you.

"Such a pretty baby!" he says, as he reaches round the back to unzip the black silk dress you were wearing. He tugs it down, throwing it onto the bedroom floor, a groan coming from him as he sees the matching black set that was on underneath.

He couldn't help but think that you'd been looking that delectable all day, and it didn't help and wouldn't help any future thoughts of what you wore on race days.

"God, Y/N!"

"Lew, come on" you groan, as his hands run up and down the curves of your body. Eventually his fingers work their way around your underwear, while his other hand goes behind you arching back to undo your bra. He skillfully undid it with the one hand while his other focused on your clit.

Your thighs squeezed together in anticipation as you feel his finger on your clit speed up. A gasp comes from you and your hand reaches down to hold his wrist.

"Lewis, i need you please!" you groan as his mouth encases around your left nipple and starting to suck and bite at it leaving hickies along the curve of your breast.

You feel movement on the bed, you look down to see him grinding against the mattress.

"Come here..." you moan and he crawls up the bed. His hand doesn't leave, going the step further and pushing one finger in. You reach down palming him through his trousers.

"Fuck baby, just like that" he groans adding another finger while leaning into your neck and kissing up and along it.

"Just take those pants off" you moan, looking up at him. He shakes his head, adding a third finger going faster.

"You gotta cum for first darling" he breathes out, you gasp watching him closely.

Lewis always put your pleasure first, that was one of the highlights of your relationship is that he always wanted you happy and content, as he would say that it made him happy and content.

He lived by the happy wife happy life memo religiously.

You feel that familiar coil built up and with the way you start moving Lewis speeds up knowing that your close.

"Lewis, Lewis fuck" you gasp as that sensation is released. You breathing slows as you come down.

"Okay, my turn" you say sitting up on your knees, squishing your thighs together.

"I can't wait, for that baby. Gotta be in you now!" he whimpers. He pulls you up so that your against the headboard, he lays you down before positioning himself above you.

He sinks all the way in, the both of you moaning and groaning as you feel every inch of him inside of you. Each ridge, every edge you can feel against your walls as you push further against him to get him deeper. He bottoms out with a sigh of happiness partially collapsing against you.

"I love you Lew, and im so thankful I'm yours" you admit with a gasp as he starts moving back and forth, the thrusts making lewd noises as he grips your hips.

"Say it again!" he exclaims looking at you in the eyes, one of his hands moving from your hip up to your cheek.

"I'm yours Lew, all yours!" you moan arching up into him and clenching.

"I love you so much darling. Fuck" he moans, nipping and biting against your collarbone as he starts to thrust quicker into you. Your own grip tightens on him as that same feeling from earlier resurfaces but more violent.

Your eyes screw shut, the moans coming from you mouth is like music into Lewis' ears. He wishes he could have it as his ringtone, or playing to him before a race. Even during a race, that for sure would make him finish a race quicker knowing he could see you quicker and stuff you full.

"Baby I'm gonna cum" he groans right into your ear making you twitch and attempt to thrust up into him. He holds you still putting pressure on your stomach making you gasp loudly and try to sit up.

"Cum baby, cum in me" you cry, tears start to stream down your face.

"Oh fuck baby" you cry and clench hard round him as he hits that spongey spot that just feels so good. You release with a whine and head thrown back, while Lewis follows helping you both ride out your high.

He collapses on top of you staying sunk inside of you. He kisses you, whispering stuff to you about what he loves, making little plaits in your hair as he goes.

Maybe waiting for Lewis in your mansion wasn't so bad after all.

A/N: This is my first smut on this account, so it will get better when i know what i feel comfortable putting out there!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x you

1K notes · View notes

gingersxng · 3 months

Text

Stepbrother

pairing: f!reader x Mingi

Summary: from being an only child living with her dad and his new wife to the next day having your new stepbrother rearranging your insides

Genre: smut 18+

Notes: stepbrother mingi, dom!mingi, sub!reader, lots of kissing, cursing, fingering, oral m.receiving, big dick mingi, unprotected sex (always be safe), cum eating, cream pie, bulge kink, may have forgotten something I wrote this at 3am

Words: 1.7k

you were just a normal college girl living a kinda normal life at home with her father and his new wife. you had pretty good grades but didn’t have a lot of friends so you usually spent most of the time alone. it was always a relief to come home to your room and crash down on your bed.

you had fallen asleep as soon as you came home and woke up two hours later by a gentle knock on the door and your dad telling you to come down for dinner. you rubbed your eyes and stretched out your body before you sat up and did a fast check on your phone, your dad had tried to call you several times and sent a text message telling you to put on some nice clothes and then he had a surprise waiting for you. you furrowed your eyebrows wondering what it could possibly be. well maybe you should get your ass up and put on some clothes. as always you opened your wardrobe and just stared for a couple minutes because you never had anything to wear. after a while you remembered you got a new black skirt and your paired it together with a black top and some silver accessories. you took one last look in the mirror before you headed downstairs. you were met by your dad, his wife ofc and a guy.. you felt your heart drop down to your stomach. “there you are y/n! we’ve been waiting for you sweetheart” your dad greeted you. the tall blonde guy in your hallway gave you a little smile which made your cheeks blush. “this is Mingi, my son” your stepmother said patting him on the back. “you’ve never met each other yet so we thought it was time” your dad looked at you with a big smile on his face. you gave Mingi a shy smile and went into the dining room along with the others.

your parents talked the most of the time while you and Mingi were quiet, you could feel his gaze on you and it gave you butterflies. your dad never told you his new wife had a son so this felt so strange somehow. Mingi were one and a half year older than you and you would lie to yourself if you said he wasn’t cute cause omg. “Mingi’s gonna move in with us” you almost choked on your water when you heard what your dad just blurted out. “t-that’s great” was all you could say. you felt your cheeks getting hotter and the butterflies went crazy now. you’ve only known about your so called stepbrother for an hour and had now become a blushing mess.

after dinner your parents went into the living room to watch some late night tv and Mingi went to grab some of his stuff. you had went back to your room trying to take in the new information and you seriously didn’t know what to think. you were sure things would get easier when you got used to all this but right now it felt like your whole life had changed. you could hear someone walking up the stairs and you knew exactly who. it was Mingi and he went by your room and into the room across yours to unpack. he raised one eyebrow at you before he disappeared. gosh isn’t he dreamy you thought to yourself. you decided to remove your makeup and change into your sleepwear before heading to bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it bothered you like crazy.

the next day you woke up around 1pm and you’d got a message from your dad. they had went to some friends and would be back in a few hours. you put the phone down on your nightstand and went to the bathroom to wash up. when you got downstairs you heard a deep voice from the kitchen. “morning” you almost jumped a bit cause you had completely forgotten that you weren’t alone anymore. Mingi sat at the kitchen island eating a bowl of cereal, he’d just woken up too. “good morning” you said a smile forming on your face. there was some awkward silence for a bit, you sat yourself at the opposite side of kitchen island facing Mingi while you ate your breakfast. yet again you could feel him watching you and your heart skipped a beat. “sooo.. y/n huh? that’s a pretty name” his deep morning voice vibrating right through you. “well, thank you” you blushed. “doing anything today?” he asked as he gave you a little smile. dang that smile could make you melt like a popsicle. “nothing special, I guess I’ll watch some tv” you replied while putting your dishes away. Mingi couldn’t help but sneak a peek down to your ass that was covered up by a pair of very short sleeping shorts, your ass cheeks falling out of them.

you put on your favourite show and made yourself comfortable on the couch. Mingi decided to join you cause he didn’t have anything better to do and that would be a good excuse to be with you more. you were watching an adult romance series on Netflix, you loved those kinds cause it always gave you butterflies. Mingi was sitting beside you and he was on his phone almost the whole time. you felt yourself heat up when a hot scene came up on the screen. you tried to keep yourself calm but you couldn’t help but press your thighs together a little. a loud moan came from the tv and caught Mingis attention. “what the..?” was the only thing he said. he turned to you and couldn’t help but notice your state. cheeks flushed, thighs pressed together and bottom lip between your teeth. a smirk formed on his lips looking down at your thighs. “you like this show huh?” he whispered into your ear. you pressed your thighs harder turning to face him. he placed a hand on your thigh giving it a light squeeze earning a little whine from you. his hand travelled to the place you needed him the most, he began to rub small circles on your clothed clit. your eyes shut tight at the sensational feeling. your wetness were leaking through your grey sleeping shorts, Mingi licked his lips at the sight. “damn so wet already” he chuckled. you bucked your hips onto his hand to get some friction. he pulled his hand away and you whined at the loss of contact. “I think we should continue upstairs since our parents could come home anytime” he said taking your hand and dragging you upstairs.

when you got into your room and locked the door you pushed him down on your bed climbing on top of him. you smashed your lips onto his, you opened your mouth welcoming his tongue inside. his hands grabbed your ass cheeks giving them a hard squeeze making you moan into his mouth. you started to place kisses down his neck then lifting up his shirt to place more kisses onto his torso. his low groans made you clench onto nothing. Mingi watched as you went further down to the waistband of his pyjama pants, you brushed your hand over his bulge earning a moan from him. you pulled down his pants revealing his big cock leaking precum at the tip. your eyes widened seeing how big he was. he smirked at your reaction. you didn’t waste any time and got down on him starting to lick up and down his length before putting him into your mouth. the tip hit the back of your throat making you gag, he brushed your hair away from your face. “fuck, just like that” he threw his head back into the pillow. you used your hand at the base of his cock while licking the tip. Mingi fought the urge to fuck up right into your mouth at the feeling. you could feel his dick twitching in your hand so you stroked him faster and put him into your mouth. he let out a cracked moan as you felt him release down your throat. you went up to his face to kiss him letting him taste himself.

he pulled down your shorts and dragged his fingers up and down your folds collecting your juices, never breaking the kiss. he pulled out his fingers and rolled you over onto your back placing himself between your legs. his tip teasing your aching hole. “pls Mingi..” you whined. “so needy darling” he finally pushed himself inside slowly to give you time to adjust. you could literally feel your eyes roll back into your head. you arched your back letting out a long moan, you’d never felt anything like this before. as he began to thrust faster and deeper into you your moans started to sound like something from a porn movie. you put your hand over your mouth to keep quiet cause you wouldn’t want to take the risk of your dad hearing his daughter being fucked by her stepbrother.

Mingi watched as his cock went in and out of your wet pussy. he pushed down his hand on your lower abdomen feeling how deep he was in you. he hit your g spot over and over again and you could feel yourself clench around his cock and a knot building up in your lower belly. Mingi sped up his pace feeling how close he was too. “damn…fuck” he threw his head back, his big adams apple bulging out as you felt him paint your walls white. not long after your knot loosened and you milked all over his dick. he leaned down to give you a kiss, cock still inside you.

“guys we’re home! and we got takeout with us!”

shit!

“we better get down there before they suspect anything” you said smiling. Mingi pulled out grabbing a towel to get you cleaned up. “since we can’t date I guess we’ll continue to fuck instead” he said with a playful smirk on his face. you just rolled your eyes at his comment. you both put on some clothes and went downstairs.

“what have you two been up to today?” your stepmom asked. you felt yourself blushing yet again. “we’ve been talking and got to know each other a little better” you said looking at Mingi. “well that’s great! I hope you’ll get close soon” she said proudly.

oh if she only knew.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #kpop smut #mingi ateez #mingi x reader #mingi #song mingi #ateez scenarios

742 notes · View notes

atokirina-writings · 1 year

Text

“Omatikayaru tìhawnu sivi”- Protect the people.

sully family x reader

shoutout to @eywas-heir for giving me the idea for this fic, i hope i did it justice :)

pairings: sully family x reader, neytiri x daughter!reader, jake sully x daughter! reader, neteyam x twinsister!reader etc.

notes: this is set during the events of avatar twow and I had sm fun writing this! this fic is 2k+ words so be prepared

synopsis: you’re the twin sister to neteyam. growing up you served as the families little bit of peace, even when quaritch threatens everything you know and love.

…Mìpa tìreyti, mìpa tìkanti. Lawnol a mì te’lan.

One of your earliest memories was your mother and father cradling you and your twin brother Neteyam, while your mother sings her songcord. Your mothers voice always had an affect on you from a young age.

“y/n, please stop fighting with your brother.” You always listened to what your mother had to say, even if it was a scolding. You loved your dad endlessly but you were a mama’s girl at heart, and everyone knew it.

She sees a lot of her late older sister in you. Your compassion for Pandora’s animal life, your strong will, and your love for the people.

“Ma' ite, she is beautiful.” Your grandmother constantly reminded your mother how happy she is that you’re her first grandchild. Your whole family adored you and that continued even into your teen years

“Ma sempul Lo’ak has done nothing wrong, let him be.” You never failed to stand up for your younger brother to your father, even when what he did was truly stupid. You never let your brother feel like he was not supported by you. Today however, was different.

When you got the message that Lo’ak, Kiri, Spider, and Tuk were at the old shack with sky people present, you felt could not defend him. He had put himself and your siblings in a dangerous position.

After rescuing your siblings from Quaritch and his people, you couldn’t help but to let your anger with your brother dissipate. Your gratefulness for their safety was a stronger feeling than your anger for them being in that situation in the first place.

꧁꧂

Later that night after finishing a conversation with a few of your friends you make your way back to your families tent. You catch your siblings seated outside of your home seemingly listening to someone’s conversation. “Guys what are you do-” Kiri sushes you, gesturing for you to sit down with them.

“I can not, you can not ask this. I can not leave my people, I will not!” Your ears perk up at the mention of leaving the people. ‘What’s going on?’ You wonder. Your father says something about him targeting your family. You immediately know who he’s referring to. “You can not ask this! The children everything they’ve ever known, the forest, this is our home!” Your mom bites back. Tuk winces upon hearing your mom yell at your dad. Placing a hand on her shoulder you nod at her, giving her a faint smile attempting to keep her grounded.

“My father gave me this bow as he lay dying. And he said ‘protect the people’ you’re Toruk Makto!” At this point you and your siblings are all on edge, as you begin to understand what your dad is insisting. Tuk wraps herself in your embrace as you attempt to soothe her irregular breathing. Kiri has a hand over her mouth as she lets out quiet sobs. Your brothers have serious faces on with saddened eyes.

“But I know one thing, wherever we go this family is our fortress.” You and your siblings make eye contact sharing a knowing look. Your father has never given your family any reason not to trust him, this is no different.

꧁꧂

Turning back you’re met with the forest, your people, and your home getting smaller and smaller as you ride off with your family to a new region of Pandora.

You learned how to hunt there, you bonded with your Ikran there, you attended Tsahìk lessons with your grandmother there. The forest is your home and your life’s first love. Nowhere could ever replace it.

Although if this is truly the best choice for the safety of your family, you’re willing to go as far as it takes.

꧁꧂

Arriving at Awa'atlu, everything felt wrong. You felt outcast for the first time in your life. You and your siblings immediately being subject to the bullying of the Olo'eyktan’s son Ao’nung and his friends didn’t help the feeling either.

“Leave us alone!” Your ears perk up, your head swiftly turning to where you’re hearing the commotion. Your eyes land on the sight of Lo’ak and Kiri being harassed by Ao’nung and his friends. Making eye contact with Neteyam you both make your way over to your younger siblings.

Roughly shoving Ao’nung away from your brother and giving him a deadly stare, your eyes narrowing at him. “You heard what she said, leave them alone.” Neteyam demands. One of his friends attempts to talk back to him and before you can respond to him Ao’nung raises his hand infront of is body, silencing him. “Back off now!” You hiss tilting your head, daring him to say anything back. Ao’nung then raises his hands in surrender. “Smart choice, and from now on I need you to respect my siblings.” Checking to make sure all of you are ok you begin to retreat back to your marui pod.

Walking away they begin to talk more shit under their breaths about your family. Lo’ak stops walking with us and turns back. Neteyam warns him to stop but Lo’ak dismisses him and continues to walk over to the group. Neteyam makes eye contact with you, clearly confused as the two of you watch the scene unfold.

Suddenly Lo’ak punches Ao’nung in the face twice, and he’s sent back by the blow into the sand. “It’s called a punch bitch!” They immediately gang up on your brother, he starts losing the fight and fast. “Teyam do something!” You whisper yell to your brother. He looks at you scratching his head contemplating getting into a fight for his little brother, ultimately deciding to jump in to help him.

꧁꧂

After all the fighting Lo’ak and Neteyam returned home all bruised up. Your father was not having it, ordering you all to go make peace with Ao’nung. Once your brothers left with defeated faces you stick behind to talk with your dad.

“Lo’ak was only defending Kiri, Sully’s stick together and that’s what he was doing. The execution wasn’t the best sure but he still stood up for her, don’t be so harsh.” He sends you a sympathetic smile and pulling you into his chest, wrapping you in his strong arms, and kissing the top of your head. “Alright babygirl.”

꧁꧂

The peace that was made between the two families was soon destroyed when Teyam comes in dragging Ao’nung by his arm “Tell them what you told me” Looking at your parents in confession you listen to what Aonung has to say.

The color drains from your face he reveals what has happened with your brother. Throughout the night you wondered where he had gone off to, figuring he was out doing his own thing with his new friend Tsireya you brushed it off.

When your little brother returned home you ran to him trapping him in a tight embrace, thanking Eywa for his safety. He relaxes in your embrace but quickly tenses back up at the sight of your enraged mother.

꧁꧂

The following weeks at Awa'atlu were rather peaceful for you. Lo’ak told you all about Payakan, the clan shamed him for it but you found it interesting and agreed with him that Payakan is a hero. So did little Tuk, she constantly asked him about his new found friend.

The Tulkun returned home, and you swear to Eywa it was the most beautiful sight. You got better and better at riding your ilu and holding you breath thanks to Tsireya’s lessons. Things for your family were starting to look up.

꧁꧂

You were cooking dinner with your parents when you got the news that started the spiral that sent everything downhill.

You and your mother were laughing at your father’s corny jokes, simply enjoying one another’s company when Tonowari walked past your marui pod, causing you all to fall silent. Your mom gave your dad a questioning look as he makes his way to Tonowari.

꧁꧂

Ronal’s spirit sister and her baby were killed by Quaritch. Noticing how your mom’s heart clinches at Ronal’s cries reminding her of when her own sister was taken by the sky people, you place a hand on her shoulder trying to soothe your mother.

When the clan gets word on what has happened, all hell breaks loose. Your father attempts to reason with them that attacking the sky people will end in defeat but they persist. “Please, listen to my father!” You beg the people to hear him out but their war cries only grow louder.

Your father shows off the tracker to clan, silencing them all. It is decided that the clan will warn the tulkun and tell them to leave. The clan thinks this is about the Tulkun but your family knows it’s really you being hunted.

Lo’ak runs off to the docks, Neteyam and you following after him knowing he’s going to warn Payakan. Lo’ak argues with Neteyam about him being the perfect son he’ll never be and it hurts your heart. He jumps into the water and takes off on his ilu. Neteyam and you yell his name in unison as you jump in after him, commanding your ilus to follow him.

꧁꧂

When you find Payakan, he has a tracker lodged in his arm. Using the strength of You, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Rotxo, Ao’nung, and Tsireya you manage to pull the tracker out. Successfully rescuing him.

In the process Kiri, Tuk, Lo’ak, and Tsireya are captured and bound the the ship. Your parents along with the metkiyna warriors arrive aiding in the fight, Payakan does too.

Dodging every bullet from underwater effortlessly, you make your way to the ship. Emerging from the water you run to Lo’ak cutting him loose while Neteyam frees Tuk and Tsireya.

“Did ya miss me little bro?” You tease. Rolling his eyes and shaking his bound wrist “Just hurry up!”

Cutting him loose “Cmon bro lets go.” Neteyam and you begin to exit the ship but Lo’ak turns back, taking a gun from a dead sky person.

“They have spider” Lo’ak begs you and Neteyam to save him. You know how much Spider means to him, they grew up together after all. Sharing a look with Neteyam he groans and reluctantly agrees.

Together You and your brothers take out every last human in the area seamlessly. Using your knife to puncture one of its oxygen mask while kicking the back side of their knee bringing them to the floor, slitting their throat. Successfully retrieving Spider you rest your hands on your knees trying to calm your uneven breathing, “Nice kill sis!” Lo’ak praises, hitting the back of his head in response annoyed by his joking in a serious situation.

“Guys go! go!” Neteyam shouts,redirecting your attention to the avatar shooting at the three of you. Once the four of you reach cover you take the gun out of Lo’ak’s possession, firing back at your attackers.

“Lo’ak jump go!” You order and be wastes no time jumping off of the ship into the water below, the other two boys following right behind him. You stay behind continuing to fire bullets at the group shooting at you, you’re out numbered now. Quickly reciting a prayer to Eywa you dive into the water.

When you emerge from under the water you gasp at the stinging sensation in your shoulder.

“Oh shit y/n.” Spider gasps and everyone’s attention is on you in an instant. You feel yourself being pulled onto an ilu as your eyes start to feel heavy. “Y/n hey, hey, stay awake ok?” Lo’ak pleads as he cradles you in his arms.

꧁꧂

“Watch her head! Watch her head” You hear someone frantically yell. You gather that you’re being pulled onto some form of land. Feeling strong hands grasp your shoulders examining your body, your eyes flutter open. “Babygirl? Hey sweetie keep your eyes open for me yeah?”

You feel heavy, your eyes are clouded with tears, everything hurts. As you blink in and out of consciousness you notice everyone is hovering around you in a circle, and a new figure emerges.

“Oh my sweet girl, Eywa please.” She begs “Momma i’m scared, I want- I want to go home.” You choke out, through the pain getting worse and worse by the second. “We’re going home baby, we’re going home.”

Your eyes unfocus from the world around you.

You can hear cries from over you but you no longer have the energy to inspect it.

꧁꧂

Your eyes open to Tsireya and Ronal kneeling over you. You groan at the light beaming painfully into your eyes. “She is awake, everyone she is awake!” Tsireya calls out and in an instant your family rushes in.

Your mother walks up to you falling to her knees at the sight of your hurting figure. “Thank you great mother, thank you.” Hot tears fall from her face onto your chest as she litters kisses on your forehead.

Looking to your other side you see your dad staring at you with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. “Dad it’s ok, i’m ok now.” You reassure. Your voice is hoarse and dry, from the lack of talking you’ve been doing.

“I’m just happy so you’re safe baby.” Your dad says sending you a close lipped smile. Using all the strength in your body you extend your arms out to your family, inviting them into all into a hug.

Your parents place their foreheads on yours, your brothers hold each of your hands, and your sisters rest their heads on each of your legs.

Melting into your family’s embrace, burning this moment into your memory.

Sully’s stick together.

tysm for reading! a like and reblog is deeply appreciated <3

Taglist: @multifandomgirllol @23victoria @avatar4eva @simp-erformarvelwomen @themysteriousslenderman @hannahboobanna @uglymammoth @onlytays @bvbblepopp @lets-candice @mrs-sullys-blog @ssc7514 @neteyamforlife @iloveavatar

4K notes · View notes

g1rld1ary · 4 months

Text

you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2783

➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader

➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.

“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.

“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”

And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.

As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.

“Who is that?” He breathed.

“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”

“But she’s so—”

“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.

The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.

Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.

“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.

“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”

“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.

When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.

You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.

Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.

You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.

“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.

“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.

“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”

“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.

“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.

Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.

“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you even know how to weld?”

“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.

Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.

“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.

“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.

“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”

“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”

“One problem, Cameron-”

“Charles.”

“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”

“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”

They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.

“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.

“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.

As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.

“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.

“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.

Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.

“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.

They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.

“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.

“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.

“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”

“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.

“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.

“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.

Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.

All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.

They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.

“I think we’ve found our man.”

It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.

The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.

“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”

“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.

“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.

“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.

“Fine. Thirty.”

“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”

“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love #luke castellan #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #pjo series #percy jackson show #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan imagines #percy jackson #percy jackson tv show #pjo tv series

886 notes · View notes

emjayewrites · 1 month

Text

All For Us (Lewis Hamilton SMAU)

SUMMARY: Lewis Hamilton secretly dates an older woman with a daughter and the public slowly starts connecting the dots. [smau w/narrative]

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x influencer!OC Bree King (faceclaim is Sasha Exeter)

WARNINGS: verbal/emotional abuse from an ex, drama, age gap romance (Bree is 2 years older than Lewis), formula one b.s., pre-established relationship, step-daddy Lewis. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!

TAGLIST: @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @jasmindaughteroftheworld @motheroffae @hrlzy @xoscar03

A/N: Read the warnings!! This oneshot may be triggering!! Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

Lewis grinned as Bree's face appeared on his FaceTime screen. "There she is! My favorite lady."

"I should hope that's still the case," Bree teased with a wink before turning her head. "Sloane, baby, come say hi to Lewis!"

A moment later, Bree's eight-year-old daughter popped into view, her face lighting up with excitement. "Lewis! Hi!!"

"Hey there, Sloane!" Lewis' smile widened. "Having fun at camp?"

The little girl nodded vigorously. "It's so cool! We went canoeing yesterday and I caught the biggest frog ever!"

"No way, that's amazing!" Lewis played along. "You'll have to show me next time I see you. Which is actually why I FaceTimed..." He glanced at Bree, who gave him an encouraging nod before he proceeded. "I was wondering if you and your mom are still planning to come to my race in Montreal next week?" he asked Sloane. "It'll be my last chance to see you before you go back to school."

"YES!!" Sloane pumped her fist in the air emphatically. "We're definitely coming! I can't wait!"

Bree chuckled fondly and ruffled her daughter's hair. As her eyes met Lewis again over the video call, her expression was full of meaning.

Though keeping their relationship under wraps wasn't easy, moments like this made it worth it to Lewis. Having this slice of domestic bliss, however ephemeral, grounded him in a way he never could have imagined before meeting Bree and her daughter. It was a small price to pay for the unexpected joy of finally finding someone who knew the real him - flaws and all.

Their relationship was still so new, barely six months old, but he felt more at peace with Bree than he could have imagined. Bree understood the punishing demands his career brought in a way no one else could. With her own entrepreneurial spirit and drive, she never asked him to compromise his ambition. If anything, she helped stoke it.

Yes, the secrecy could be tedious at times. But Lewis didn't mind. After a lifetime in the spotlight, he relished having this one thing that was just for him and Bree. At least for now.

Race day arrived and Bree made her way through the hustle and bustle of the Montreal Grand Prix paddock. Despite Sloane's excitement in the lead-up, her father had pulled one of his typical selfish moves at the last minute by insisting on taking her to the zoo that day instead.

Bree felt that familiar pang of disappointment mixed with resignation. Her ex had been more of a sperm donor than an actual parent to their daughter from the day Sloane was born. He only seemed to appear when it was convenient for him, not Sloane.

Pushing those negative thoughts aside, Bree focused on the thrill of being here to support Lewis. As an influencer, she had initially been given paddock access through her partnership with Peroni, but over the last few months, as her relationship with Lewis intensified, racing had become personal.

"You must be Bree!" She spun around at the greeting to see a tall, stocky man striding towards her, hand outstretched. Spinz stood around six-foot-three and was built like a linebacker, with a lightly tanned skin tone. His smile was kind and friendly as he enthusiastically shook her hand. "I'm Daniel, but you can call me Spinz."

"It's so great to finally meet you! Lewis has told me loads about you," Bree mentioned happily.

"Likewise," Spinz replied genuinely. "I've heard so many stories, it's nice to finally put a face to the name."

Lewis and she had been intentionally slow about intermingling friends and family. They didn't want to rush things before they were both exclusive and comfortable, yet now that Sloane had grown so fond of Lewis, it felt right to begin that integration.

"Can't believe my man is finally bringing his girlfriend around the paddock!" Spinz continued, laughing delightedly. "Bout time, if you ask me." This emitted a chuckle from Bree. "Well, since you're finally here, allow me to give you the grand tour," Spinz offered, gesturing for her to follow him. "Lewis is still doing his pre-race routine, but I can show you around until he's free."

Bree nodded eagerly, falling into step beside the towering Spinz as he led them through the controlled chaos of the paddock. He pointed out the various team garages, the hospitality suites, and regaled her with funny behind-the-scenes stories from past races.

Despite the unfamiliar environment, Bree instantly felt at ease with Spinz's warm presence and easy banter. She could understand why he and Lewis had been mates for so long. There was an affable authenticity to him that put her instantly at ease.

"And this...is the sacred ground," Spinz proclaimed dramatically as they walked inside the Mercedes garage. "Though I suppose for you, it's more like hallowed ground at this point, eh?" He elbowed her teasingly.

Bree laughed, shoving him back playfully. "That's one way to put it, I suppose. I have to admit, seeing this side of his life up close is still taking some getting used to."

Before Spinz could respond, a familiar voice spoke out. "Hi, baby."

Bree shifted her gaze to see Lewis walking over to them, clad in his racing suit. His eyes crinkled behind his sunglasses as he pulled her into an embrace. She melted into his arms, inhaling his familiar warm scent.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, gorgeous. Pre-race craziness, you know how it is," Lewis murmured, lowering his voice. "But I'm all yours now."

He leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. Even with the smile on his face, Bree could sense that something seemed a bit off with him.

"How are you?" Bree asked gently.

Lewis let out an exasperated sigh. "Comme ci, comme ça." He made a wavering 'so-so' gesture with his hand to emphasize his point.

Bree's expression was knowing. "Ah, I see." With a slow blink, she decided not to pry further for now.

"Let's not worry about that now, okay?" Lewis gave her a lopsided grin, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Everything good with you? How was the tour with Spinz?"

"Great, Spinz was awesome. Thank you again for the tour," Bree replied, smiling at Lewis' friend.

Spinz waved it off. "No problem at all. I'll leave you two to it. Lew, I'll catch up with you later?"

"Of course, man." Lewis pulled Spinz in for one of their signature dap-up handshake hugs before his friend departed.

"Now that that's out of the way..." Lewis trailed off, snaking his arms around Bree's waist and pulling her close. "I can finally kiss you like I've been wanting to."

"Oh, so it's like that, Sir Hamilton?" Bree teased, removing his sunglasses to gaze into his warm brown eyes. "There, that's better. I can actually see those pretty eyes of yours now."

Lewis batted his lashes exaggeratedly. "You like what you see, huh? I could get used to all this flattery."

With that, he leaned in and captured her lips in a lingering, tender kiss, the troubles of the earlier melting away as he lost himself in her being.

Bree paced near the gate, phone pressed to her ear as she listened to her ex-husband's latest tirade.

"You're really going to let some race car driver try to one-up me as a father figure for Sloane? Come on, Bree. This guy is just a fling - he'll get bored of playing house eventually and leave you high and dry."

She bristled at his condescending tone, upset rising in her chest. Before she could snap back, her gaze landed on Sloane sitting nearby. The little girl was utterly engrossed, flipping through a "Formula One for Kids" book in preparation for their time at Silverstone.

The sight of her daughter's pure, unbridled excitement instantly calmed Bree's anger. She took a steadying breath before responding.

"You know what, you're right - you shouldn't be threatened because unlike you, Lewis actually shows up for Sloane," she stated evenly. "He's been more of a parent to her in six months than you have her whole life."

There was an indignant sputtering on the other end, but Bree kept talking before he could interject.

"Don't project your guilt about being an absentee dad onto my relationship. This isn't about you. It's about giving our daughter some stability and male role model who wants to be present."

The overhead speaker crackled to life, an announcement requesting they begin boarding their flight to Paris. Bree knew she needed to hang up now if they wanted to make it.

"I'm done wasting my time on this. We're boarding now. Maybe next time you can join us instead of just criticizing from the sidelines." She ended the call with a tap before he could respond.

Turning to Sloane, Bree plastered on a brilliant smile, letting the contentment of this new chapter wash over her.

"You ready for our adventure, baby girl?"

Sloane beamed up at her mother, curls bouncing as she nodded enthusiastically. "So ready! This is gonna be the best vacation ever!"

As they joined the line to board, hand-in-hand, Bree felt a swell of gratitude. Her daughter deserved all the happiness in the world - and she'd do whatever it took to provide it, with or without Sloane's father.

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

"No, no, you've got the lyrics all wrong!" Sloane collapsed in a fit of giggles as Lewis dramatically belted out his very off-key rendition of "We Don't Talk About Bruno" from Encanto, which was playing on the TV.

"What are you talking about? This is exactly how it goes!" Lewis protested, bopping around their hotel suite and encouraging Sloane to sing and dance along with him.

Bree watched the scene unfold with a content smile, sipping her coffee as her boyfriend and daughter's musical silliness filled the room. It had been a long but utterly joyful day exploring the magic of Paris together.

As the next song from the movie came on, Lewis grabbed Sloane's hands and started twirling her around in an impromptu dance number. Sloane squealed with laughter, trying her best to follow his goofy choreography.

Despite having to attend a couple of fashion shows, Lewis insisted on making the most of their time together. He had kicked things off with a surprise shopping trip that morning to Dior, allowing Bree and Sloane to play dress-up before walking away with an entirely new boutique-worthy wardrobe.

From there, it was on to take in the splendor of Parisian culture and sights. They strolled along the Champs-Élysées, stopping to snack on crispy crepes and macarons. Lewis delighted in teaching Sloane a few French phrases, though she quickly realized he was cheekily mispronouncing things.

As evening fell, Lewis whisked them away to a breathtaking circus show at Cirque Phénix. Sloane's eyes were saucers the entire time as she watched the daring acrobats and exotic animals perform. When it was over, she kept asking "How did they DO that?!" in awed tones.

Finally, they capped the night off with a decadent multi-course dinner at an acclaimed family-owned bistro. Even Sloane was lured into trying cuisine well beyond her usual mac-and-cheese comfort zone.

Now, lounging in their luxury hotel after baths, it was the perfect way to wind down after a memory-making day. Lewis intentionally kept the mood light and fun, perhaps sensing Bree needed a break from any lingering emotional fallout after her ex's cruel words.

Lewis and Sloane collapsed in a giggling heap on the suite's plush rug, exhausted but elated. Pressing kisses to Sloane's flushed cheeks, Lewis grinned contentedly.

"Best day ever, right team?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

As the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend approached, Lewis became adamant that Bree and Sloane finally meet his family. They would all be in attendance on Sunday to cheer him on at his beloved home race.

"It's time," he stated firmly one night as they relaxed together in bed. "You two are the most important people in my life now. I want my family to really know you both."

Bree felt a flutter of nerves, knowing this was a big step. In all his years as a global celebrity, Lewis had only ever brought one other woman home to meet his parents and siblings - his ex-girlfriend from years ago. There hadn't been anyone serious enough since then to warrant those introductions, until Bree came along.

Saturday night arrived, and Bree smoothed her hands down the summer dress she had carefully selected. She caught a glimpse of her anxious expression in the mirror and exhaled slowly.

Get it together, she scolded herself.

So what if she was a few years older than Lewis, and a single mom at that? His family seemed warm and supportive based on what little she knew. Surely they wouldn't judge her too harshly, right?

The sudden image of them dismissing her as some gold-digging cougar flashed through Bree's mind before she could stop it. She shook her head firmly. Those were her own insecurities talking, not reality.

"You ready, gorgeous?" Lewis' voice pulled her from her reverie. He stood in the doorway, Sloane's little hand clasped securely in his own.

Bree managed a tremulous smile and nodded. "As I'll ever be. Let's do this."

They made their way to the private dining room at Dishoon's, where Lewis' family awaited. The moment they entered, multiple pairs of eyes widened almost comically at the picture before them - Lewis holding Sloane's hand while his other arm wrapped protectively around Bree's waist.

Bree felt her cheeks warm as the hushed murmurs started. Lewis simply grinned, surveying the room with an almost smug satisfaction.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet the two leading ladies in my life..." he began by way of introduction. "This is Bree and Sloane."

What followed was a cheerful commotion of hugs, back slaps and well-wishes as Lewis deftly made the rounds. To Bree's relief, his family seemed just as warm and gregarious as he had described.

If anything, they seemed impressed by her vibrant spirit and career accomplishments. Lewis' father in particular was delighted to discover Bree's Caribbean heritage, insisting they were practically "family already."

At one point, Lewis was gently pulled aside by his mother, Carmen. Concern furrowed the older woman's brow as she studied her son intently.

"So...what do you think of her, Mum?" Lewis asked almost shyly.

Carmen's expression softened as she glanced over at where Bree and Nicola were giggling together. "I think...I haven't seen you look this happy and fully yourself in a long time, sweetie."

She reached up to cup Lewis' cheek, her eyes shining with emotion. "That girl clearly adores you. And you've already taken her little one into your heart as well."

Lewis' smile was beatific as he covered his mother's hand with his own. "She's the one, Mum. I'm going to marry her someday."

Carmen arched an eyebrow, though her tone remained gentle. "Are you ready for that? To be a father to that little girl, and take on all those responsibilities?"

Lewis didn't hesitate. "More than ready," he stated with conviction. "Bree and Sloane...they're my world now. I can't imagine my life without them in it."

Pulling his mother into a firm embrace, Lewis felt his heart swell almost to bursting. For so many years, this kind of profound contentment had eluded him despite all his success. But somehow, fate had brought these two incredible ladies into his life. And he would spend every day showing them how indescribably grateful he was.

As they prepared for their upcoming trip to Grenada, articles started appearing in The Sun and The Daily Mail hinting that Lewis was dating Bree. Twitter was going crazy, with Lewis' massive fandom mostly showing support, especially after photos and videos surfaced of him with Sloane at the Silverstone race weekend. Sloane had been put 'in charge' of caring for Lewis' beloved English bulldog, Roscoe, and both she and the dog were practically attached to Lewis' hip the entire time.

Meanwhile, Sloane's father was up in arms once more about the apparent relationship. Bree's phone rang with the sperm donor himself on the other line.

"How dare you let that race car driver get so close to my child!" he yelled. "He thinks he can just swoop in and play dad now?"

"I mean someone has to do it," Bree muttered under her breath.

"I'm going to sue for full custody if you keep letting that man around my daughter!" Sloane's father shouted over the phone. "You're just a useless whore letting any man walk all over you!"

It was at that moment that Lewis came walking into the kitchen, having just finished playing in the backyard with Sloane. He immediately sensed the tension on Bree's face.

"Give me the phone," Lewis said firmly, holding his hand out.

Bree shook her head, not wanting to subject him to her ex's vitriol. But then the man's voice came through again.

Lewis' jaw clenched and he commanded again, "The phone, Bree. Now."

Reluctantly, she passed it over, her eyes apologetic. Lewis gave her a reassuring nod before putting the phone to his ear. "Who the fuck do you think you are, speaking to her like that?" he said sternly.

"Who do YOU think you are?" the man retorted. "You have no right getting cozy with my kid!"

Lewis' expression hardened. "I care deeply about both Bree and Sloane," he stated firmly. "And I'll be damned if I let you disrespect them like this."

"You think you can just insert yourself into my daughter's life?" Sloane's father sneered. "Playing father figure and getting handsy with her mother? Over my dead fuckin' body."

She opened her mouth to let loose a blistering retort, but Lewis squeezed her shoulder lightly.

"Listen here, mate," Lewis' voice was low but resonant with conviction. "I love that little girl as if she were my own flesh and blood. Sloane is everything to me, to us. And I'll be damned if you try to keep us apart with your selfishness and toxic presence."

Bree's breath caught at the fierce protectiveness in Lewis' words. She covered his hand with her own, lending him her strength.

On the other end, Sloane's father sputtered indignantly before finding his voice again. "You arrogant prick! You can't just—"

"That's enough." Lewis's words sliced through the man's tirade like a whip. "Your disrespect ends now. And if you continue speaking to Bree this way, you'll never see Sloane again."

There was a pause on the other end. "Is that a threat?" Sloane's father spat.

"No," Lewis said coldly. "It's a promise." He disconnected the call and turned his full attention to Bree, wrapping his arms around her firmly. "How long has he been talking to you like that, love?"

Bree let out a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace. "Not long...just when we started getting serious."

Lewis scoffed, rolling his eyes at her ex's audacity. The man had been absent for most of Sloane's life, and now that another man was stepping up, he wanted to play father?

"Next time he does that, record it," Lewis instructed. "Take it to your lawyers. I don't want that piece of shit thinking he can verbally abuse you however he pleases. He's going to fuck around and end up in a ditch somewhere if he keeps going down this road."

Bree searched his eyes intently. "You would...kill for me? For us?"

"Yes." Lewis met her gaze unflinchingly. "I'd do anything for you and Sloane. Anything at all."

The fierceness in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word.

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

Bree sighed contentedly as she gazed out at the pristine Grenadian beach. So much had happened so quickly - meeting Lewis' friends and family, being accepted into their fold almost instantly alongside Sloane, yet it all felt so natural, like the missing pieces finally clicking into place.

Her eyes shielded from the brilliant sun, she watched as Lewis chased the waves with Sloane, both of them shrieking with laughter. He looked utterly gorgeous with his toned, tattooed physique glistening with saltwater, the picture-perfect image of a doting father. The idea of giving Sloane a sibling, with Lewis as the dad, sounded unexpectedly appealing. Though she had a few eggs frozen, she wondered if pregnancy at her age would be difficult, but as scary as that thought was, she couldn't fathom being with anyone else. Their seven month relationship felt more profound than any bond she'd ever known.

Down the beach, Lewis was helping Sloane construct an elaborate sandcastle, patting the wet sand into turrets.

"Lewis?" Sloane piped up suddenly.

"Yes, princess?"

"Do you love my mom?"

He smiled warmly. "Yes, I do. Very much. And I love you too."

Sloane beamed, delighted by his answer. "Will you marry my mom then? My parents were married but then they got divorced."

Lewis' heart melted at her hopeful expression. "You want me to make an honest woman out of your mum?"

She nodded vigorously. "I just want her to be happy."

"I promise I'll do everything I can to make you both happy," he vowed. "But would it be okay with you, if I married your mum?"

"Duh!" Sloane rolled her eyes dramatically. "I already think of you as my bonus dad."

Lewis felt his throat tighten with emotion at Sloane's words. This amazing little girl and her mother had utterly stolen his heart.

Gently, he pulled Sloane into a hug, resting his chin atop her head. "You know I love you like you're my own daughter, right? You and your mum are everything to me."

Sloane nodded against his chest. "I know. That's why you should marry her." She pulled back to look up at him with those big, innocent eyes. "Will you be my dad for real then?"

"Of course, princess," Lewis murmured, brushing the sandy hair from her face. "If your mum will have me, I'd be honored to be your dad in every way that matters."

Sloane grinned, throwing her little arms around his neck excitedly. Down the beach, Bree watched the tender scene with a wistful smile. She could clearly see the love between Lewis and her daughter - it was undeniable.

As if he could sense her eyes on him, Lewis glanced over and raised a hand in a beckoning wave. Bree rose fluidly to her feet and made her way over, sandals dangling from one hand.

"Everything okay over here?" she asked lightly as she approached.

Lewis stood, pulling Bree flush against his side with his free arm. "More than okay," he replied, dropping a kiss on her salty hair. "We're building a sandcastle estate and could use the extra hands, right Sloane?" Sloane was too busy packing buckets full of wet sand into elaborate castle molds to answer and Lewis shrugged. "Alrighty then, let's get to work."

As they worked together under the warm sun, Bree couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments of simple joy with the little family she created.

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was in full swing, and Lewis was basking in the excitement of being publicly "Instagram official" with Bree. He had Bree by his side, and he was so happy to be able to publicly show off their relationship.

It wasn't that he cared what anyone else thought - Lewis had never been one to seek approval or validation from others. But having Bree by his side made everything feel more real, more solid. She was his rock, his anchor in this wild world of racing. These last few months, although crazy at times, were the best memories to experience with Bree.

And she looked stunning as always. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves and her fitted red dress hugged her curves in all the right places. She was by Lewis' side through all the glitzy festivities and parties surrounding the race weekend, including the launch of his Almave pop-up bar. With Sloane spending the weekend with Bree's mother, it was a kid-free getaway, and he intended to take full advantage.

He knew Bree's ex-husband would be fuming seeing pictures of them together online, but Lewis didn't give two flying fucks about him anymore. He was focused solely on Bree and the profound happiness she brought him. Bree's arm was looped through his as they made their way through the crowded VIP party for the race sponsors. He greeted familiar faces with warmth and charm, introducing her to everyone he knew.

"You're a natural at this," Lewis remarked as they headed towards the bar for some much-needed drinks.

Bree laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "Please, I'm just winging it."

He shook his head in mock disapproval as they approached the bar. "Don't sell yourself short," he said seriously before turning to order their drinks.

_____________________________________

After dinner one evening at their hotel's high-end restaurant, fans swarmed Lewis for autographs as they exited. "You're a lucky man," one told him, eyeing Bree appreciatively. "She's gorgeous."

Lewis' arm tightened around her waist. "I know," he said simply, pride warming his tone.

Back in their suite, they came together in a heated clash of lips and roving hands, shedding clothes as they stumbled towards the bedroom. Bree reveled in the hard planes of Lewis' body, tracing the lines of his tattoos as he worshipped her with his mouth.

He lifted her up effortlessly and carried her to bed, laying her down gently before joining on top of her, settling between her legs. Their bodies fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces as they moved together in a rhythm that felt almost too familiar now.

Every time they made love was like a brand new experience for them both. They never grew tired of exploring each other's bodies or finding new ways to pleasure one another.

In between stolen kisses and whispered declarations of love, they lost themselves completely in each other until they reached that explosive climax. Afterwards, they lay sated and tangled in the plush hotel linens. Bree traced idle patterns across Lewis' chest as he tucked her against his side.

"Have you thought about getting married again?" he asked quietly.

Bree's head whipped up in surprise. "Here? In Vegas?"

Lewis chuckled, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "No, love. No offense to others, but I could never get married here. I meant...in a year or two, maybe. With me."

Her breath caught at the meaningful weight behind his words. "I...actually think about that a lot," she admitted shyly. "I can see us having a future together."

Warmth bloomed in Lewis' eyes. "You can?"

Bree nodded, feeling herself get swept up in the thrilling certainty of what she felt for this man. "Yes. A real future - marriage, forever."

Lewis looked utterly overjoyed as he cupped her face tenderly. "Okay then...future Lady Hamilton."

A startled laugh bubbled up from Bree's lips. "Lady Hamilton? Is that what I'll be since you're Sir Lewis?"

"Precisely." His grin was terribly smug. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"It sounds like some character from Bridgerton!" she giggled, swatting his chest playfully.

Lewis joined in her mirth, nodding wholeheartedly in agreement. "I can see the resemblance."

Bree's laughter slowly faded as she gazed at the man she loved with every fiber of her being.

Her future husband - it had a deliciously appealing ring to it.

The End.....or is it?

#all for us #sir lewis hamilton #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x oc #f1 x reader

317 notes · View notes