#big bad dreams of gentle love

[imagine-darksiders]

Here's a request, how would Strife and Samael react to accidentally seeing s/o naked for the first time? Like they are getting ready to bathe or something and thought they were alone. They didn't know anyone would be there, and when Strife/Sam do see them, s/o is oblivious. Like they realize very quickly "aw shit, s/o is cute...", Inner monologue stuff about s/o and their new feelings. I have a thing for pining. Real romance fluff with a suggestive hint. Nothing happens, this doesn't have to be nsfw if you don't want it to be. I just want your take on their reactions cause I think they would both range very differently. I chose those two cause they are my favorite. If you don't wanna do this one, that's ok too. I just really like your writing and how you interpret things. Thank you again.

Samael:

It's a common assumption among those who don't know him personally, that the Demon Prince, Samael, is a debauched and lascivious snake who would only relish in the chance to catch a human unawares.

It's a common assumption. But so often common is confused with correct.

He's a prince. Be that of Hell or Heaven or any realm in-between, he knows how to behave like a gentleman when needs be.

To his own surprise, he's found himself falling more and more into that courtly conduct ever since he managed to get his claws on the Horsemen's little human, swiped by his own claws right from underneath their noses.

'Nothing personal,' he'd told you while you thrashed and beat at the vast, scaly fingers wrapped around your torso, 'This is all tactics, you understand.'

With the Horsemen focusing all of their efforts into tracking you down – they've yet to work out that he's behind your disappearance – Samael is free to move his players across an unguarded chess board. A classic – if risky – slight of hand.

Oh, he imagines they'll try to kill him once they discover you hidden here in his fortress at Shadow's Edge, but that's hardly of any concern to a Prince of Hell. If he thought the Horsemen were a genuine threat, he wouldn't have provoked them by taking their precious, little human.

They won't be able to deny, when they eventually find you, that he's been nothing if not a most gracious host. You aren't a political enemy, after all, you're an innocent bystander in his game of cat and mouse.

He's placed you in one of the Eastern towers - under guard and lock and key, of course – where every amenity has been made available to you. A spacious chamber, adorned by a luxurious bed with silken, ruby-red sheets. An adjacent nook that boasts a king-sized bathing pool for you to maintain your hygiene....

If anything, you're less of a prisoner, and more of an unusual guest, though such 'special treatment' has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your affinity for story-telling far surpasses the talents of his own subjects.

All you have to do is recite Earthen fairy-tales to him, plots of films you can still remember, stories from the books you used to read at school, and every single one of them is eagerly eaten up by the demon Prince, specifically those that have happier endings.

Those very stories are the reason Samael finds himself striding down the corridor to your chambers now, with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the impressive claws at the end of each of his toes clicking sharply against a black-stone floor.

Last night, you'd half-finished a tale of a caterpillar with an absolutely voracious appetite, but you'd fallen asleep just before the most crucial climax. He'd half a mind to shake you conscious again and demand you tell him how the gluttonous little insect earns his downfall through hubris and greed, but in the end, he permitted you your scant few hours of fitful sleep.

Perhaps the ending you have in store will have been worth the wait...

The phantom guards posted outside your room snap to attention as he passes them by, though their master doesn't spare either of them so much as a fleeting glance, stepping leisurely up to the tattered, scarlet curtain that separates your chambers from the corridor outside.

And that's when he hears it - a sound so seldom heard in Hell, it actually startles the Prince into slowing his gait as his scowl comes undone, softening the deep-set creases carved between his brows.

He pauses at the curtain and twists an ear towards the noise...

... Music?

Slowly, he eases his crooked knuckles beneath the curtain and lifts it aside, hesitating for another moment to discern that his ears really aren't deceiving him. That's music he's hearing. More specifically, it's singing.

You are singing.

He's spoken with you enough times by now to recognise your voice in spite of the melodious notes of a song that drift into his ears from somewhere beyond the bed chamber.

But then, he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. Of all the denizens residing in his fortress, who among them is the most likely to burst into song other than the human?

Eyes of liquid fire scan the room and find it devoid of his prisoner, until they land upon the arched entrance that leads into the adjacent bathing quarters.

He recalls how you'd been stunned almost speechless the first time he showed you the enormous pool cut out of an obsidian floor.

He'd taken the liberty to drain it of lava before filling it up again with clean, un-poisoned water – a rare commodity in Hell, given the rate of its evaporation.

“Why?” you'd asked, squinting up at him dubiously.

Samael's face had remained perfectly set like the stone underfoot as he hummed his reply, “I assumed humans preferred to bathe in water. Not molten lava.”

That wasn't what you'd meant, and he knew it, but you'd been sensible enough not to look a gift demon in the mouth, as it were.

Lifting his nose to take a whiff of the air, Samael pads like a graceful predator across the chamber, following the sound of your voice.

Until the day comes when he no longer sits on the throne, he'll staunchly deny that his footsteps fall just a little more softly against the stone in his endeavour to remain unnoticed by the room's occupant.

Deftly, he manoeuvres around a scattering of garments that have been strewn haphazardly about the chamber, quirking one solid, scaly brow at them as he passes. 'Odd,' is all he muses.

Under normal circumstances, you're never seen without your flimsy attire.

Finding his curiosity piqued, Samael ducks his crooked horns and steals into the dark doorway, casting an eye languidly across the baths, only to freeze in his tracks, his whole body going utterly still from the horns on his head to the tip of his long, sweeping tail.

As if the singing weren't enough of a shock, you suddenly come dancing into view, swinging your hips to and fro like a pendulum. You're facing away from the doorway, thank the Void, but that's hardly what the demon Prince is focused on.

Standing there on the first step of the bath, bobbing your hips to the tune of your own song, he sees you.

All of you.

There isn't a shred of clothing present to preserve your modesty, no undergarments, nor a single strip of cloth, not a thread to your name.

Samael's silvery pupils dilate, expanding out of slits until they sit soft and round in his yellow eyes.

Rather perplexingly, he doesn't wheel himself backwards out of the entryway as soon as he registers your state of undress, though he chalks this up to being struck with simple, scientific curiosity at having stumbled upon a human in their most natural state.

Why, any second now, he's sure he'll feel that familiar wave of disgust surge up like bile and turn his stomach, because what is the human body if not a small, featureless sack of squelching meat?

Any second now...

Surely...?

Despite the weak-willed voice in the back of his head trying to convince him to turn away, the demon's eyes remain firmly adhered to you, and his ears twitch and flick towards the sound of your voice, anxious to catch every note you sing.

What is the human body...?

It's very.... gentle, he observes through a sudden haze that knocks him ever so slightly off-kilter.

A golden stare roll up the length of your legs, tracing the path of your spine and lingering on the back of your fragile neck.

There isn't a single, sharp edge to your body. No jagged horns or spines jutting through your skin, no tough and unforgiving scales to protect you from the elements, no natural weapons in the form of fangs or claws.

A body like yours was never intended to cause hurt.

What a flawed design.

What a brave design.

Before he can keep it at bay, a memory of Lilith pushes to the forefront of his mind – of her cruel lips that twist into a smirk and her hateful glares that try to poison his heart as she lays underneath him on their shared bed, claws like knives cutting into his scaly forearms to draw as much pain from him as she can, all in the name of 'making love.'

But what if....?

As the demon Prince gazes down at you, transfixed, the image of your naked body slips seamlessly in to replace Lilith's in his mind's eye. Her feral snarl gives way to something kinder, something sweeter, welcoming.

And suddenly, there you are, spread out in his Queen's place on the red, silken sheets, surrounded by the treasures he's draped you in during a wild and scandalous courtship. For the first time in his life, he doesn't want to ravage the body under his, though maybe he'd remind you that he could, if you'd only ask him to.

No. Perhaps, instead, you'll prop yourself up against the mountain of pillows he'd given you to nest in, and you'll cradle his head in your lap, your clawless fingers stroking gently up and down the space between his impressive horns as you tell him stories well into the night, listening to the crackle of the wall sconces together.

'Is that what it must be like?' he wonders, 'to take a lover who has no interest in power or status?' That must be what the stories mean, when they talk of love for love's sake.

Ah... But that kind of love has no place in Hell. The selfless kind. Altruistic. Here, one either loves to gain power, respect, and to rise through the social ranks, or one simply doesn't love at all.

In all the years he's sat on the throne of Hell, never once did he think he'd find himself so captivated by the sight of a human with no clothes on.

The leathery membrane folded between his wings starts to creak as they gradually spread open, driven by an ancient and well-buried instinct to appear bigger, stronger, more suitable than any other demon in the fortress...

He doesn't even notice that his tail has begun to sweep silently from side to side in perfect tandem with the swing of your hips.

Regardless of his imposing presence lurking just behind you in the doorway, you still don't seem to have noticed that you have an audience, and you likely would have gone on with your oblivious dance had the demon Prince not sabotaged himself moments later.

He never meant to do it. He's certainly never been caught doing it before, not even when he was trying to court an impassive Lilith.

Somewhere deep inside his almighty chest, the demon's muscles begin to quiver, pulsing together as they work to push a strange sound up through his throat - something between a contented hum and an unmistakable, mortifying purr.

You notice the sound before he does, but his reactions are sharper than your own.

Your song trails into uncertain silence, there's a whoosh of air and an enormous shadow flits backwards through the doorway just as you turn around to investigate, curling your arms around yourself in anticipation of finding a peeping-tom.

… The entrance is empty.

The Phantom guards scramble to attention when their master suddenly comes storming out of your chambers, his tail lashing like a whip and his mighty chest heaving in and out as if he's trying to stoke a fire in his lungs.

Gleaming fangs crush themselves together as he thunders aimlessly down the corridor, his only concern in distancing himself from the room of his prisoner.

What was that?

What the Hell was that!?

Of all the ridiculous, humiliating, puerile things for a Prince to do.

A purr...

A purr!

At his age! And one directed at a human no less.

He's Samael! Accuser, Seducer. Prince of Demons and Lord of Darkness. He's well above the feeble allure of the flesh.

... But it wasn't just your flesh that tempted him, was it?

Samael's lips curl to bare his teeth as he viciously swipes the thought away with another lash of his tail.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself resolutely. You hadn't seen him, nobody witnessed the event, you'll carry on none-the-wiser while he strikes the whole mishap from his memory.

The Horsemen will come and take you away, as he intended.

Yes... Just as he intended.

EDIT: Holy shift I just realised I got so caught up in Samael's story, I never wrote Strife's!!!!!!! I'm so sorry!!!!

[omegasmileyface]

dreams are so awesome. had a totk dream last night where i did side quests and shit it was awesome. it was also very explicit about the fact that the botw games are, canonically and explicitly and deliberately, set in the fallout universe

[weaselle]

i want to talk about real life villains

Not someone who mugs you, or kills someone while driving drunk, those are just criminals. I mean VILLAINS.

Not like trump or musk, who are... cartoonishly evil. And not sexy villains, not grandiose villains, not even satisfyingly two dimensional villains it is easy to hate unconditionally. The real villains.

I had a client who was a retired executive for one of the big oil companies, i think it was Shell or Chevron. Had a home just outside of San Francisco that was wall to wall floor to ceiling full of expensive art. Literally. I once accidentally knocked a painting off the wall because it was hanging at knee height at the corner of the stairs, and it had a little brass plaque on it, and i looked up the name of the artist and it was Monet's apprentice and son-in-law, who was apparently also a famous painter. He had an original Andy Warhol, which should have been a prize piece for anyone to showcase -- it was hanging in the bathroom. I swear to god this guy was using a Chihuly (famous glass sculptor) as a fruit bowl. And he was like, "idk my wife was the one who liked art"

I was intrigued by this guy, because in the circles i run this dude is The Enemy. right? Wealthy oil executive? But as my client, he was... like a sweet grandpa. A poor widower, a nice old man, anyone who knew him would have called him a sweetheart. He had a slightly bewildered air, a sort of gentle bumbling nature.

And the fact that he was both of these things, a Sweet Little Old Man and The Enemy, at the same time, seemed important and fascinating to me.

He reminded me of some antagonist from fiction, but i couldn't put my finger on who. And when i did it all made sense.

John Hammond.

probably one of the most realistic bad guys ever written.

If you've only ever seen the movie, this will need some explaining.

Michael Crichton wrote Jurassic Park in 1990, and i read it shortly thereafter. In the movie, the dinosaurs are the antagonists, which imo erases 50% of the point of the story.

book spoilers below.

In the book, John Hammond is the villain but it takes the reader like half the book to figure that out. Just like my client, John is a sweet old man who wants lovely things for people. He's a very sympathetic character. But as the book progresses, you start to see something about him.

He has an idea, and he's sure it's a good one. When someone else dies in pursuit of his dream, he doesn't think anything of it. When other people turn out to care about that, he brings in experts to evaluate the safety of his idea, and when they quickly tell him his idea is dangerous and needs to be put on hold, he ignores his own experts that he himself hired, because they are telling him that he is wrong, and he is sure he is right.

In his mind, he's a visionary, and nobody understands his vision. He is surrounded by naysayers. Several things have proven too difficult to do the best and safest way, so he has cut corners and taken shortcuts so he can keep moving forward with his plans, but he's sure it's fine. He refuses to hear any word of caution, because he believes he is being cautious enough, and he knows best, even though he has no background in any of the sciences or professions involved. He sends his own grandchildren out into a life-threatening situation because he is willfully ignorant of the danger he is creating.

THIS is like the real villains of the world. He doesn't want anyone to die. Far from it, he only wants good things for people! He's a sweet old man who loves his grandchildren. But he has money and power and refuses to hear that what he is doing is dangerous for everyone, even his own family.

I think he's possibly one of the most important villains ever written in popular fiction.

In the book, he is killed by a pack of the smallest, cutest, "least dangerous" dinosaurs, because a big part of why we read fiction is to see the villains face thematic justice. But like a cigarette CEO dying of lung cancer, his death does not stop his creation from spreading out into the world to continue to endanger everyone else.

I think it is really important to see and understand this kind of villainy in fiction, so you can recognize it in real life.

Sweetheart of a grandfather. Wanted the best for everyone. Right up until what was best for everyone inconvenienced the pursuit of his own interests.

And my client was like that too. His wife had died, and his dog was now the love of his life, and she was this little old dog with silky hair in a hair cut that left long wispy bits on her lower legs. Certain plant materials were easily entangled in this hair and impossible to get out without pulling her hair which clearly hurt her. When i suggested he ask his groomer to trim her lower leg hair short to avoid this, he refused, saying he really liked her usual hair cut.

I emphasized that she was in pain after every walk due to the plant debris getting caught in her leg hair, and a simple trim could put an end to her daily painful removal of it, and he just frowned like i'd recommended he take a bath in pig shit and said "But she'll be ugly" and refused to talk about it anymore.

Sweet old man though. Everyone loved him.

[teddybeartoji]

going to the beach with toji and kids for the first time ever. it's only the beginning of your relationship, it's all kind of new – toji doesn't know what's about to hit him. sure, he's seen you with megumi and tsumiki before, but this? this is something else.

not only is his heart doing flips at the sight of the big smiles and the loud bursts of laughter you're managing to pull out of his kids, you're also wearing a fucking bikini. he hasn't seen this much of you before – the furthest you've gone during the late hours of the nights are steamy, handsy makeouts. he did take your shirt off the last time he had you below him but then you were interrupted by the little spiky haired boy, sniffling about a bad dream. after grabbing a blanket to cover you up, toji rested his forehead against your warm skin, grumbling something under his breath before looking up at you with soft eyes. you weren't mad – quite the opposite; you ruffled his hair and cradled his face, a gentle smile splayed on your lips. you pressed a haste kiss to his nose and then ushered him off of you, whispering something about his adorable son. toji scoffed. and smiled to himself.

the bikini. is killing him. he doesn't know what to do with himself. the scene playing in front of him is heart-warming and he should only be thinking about that, but how can he? the material is barely covering anything and you just look so... fucking good.

sitting in the shade, toji let's his head loll back, his eyes closing as he rests his hand over his face with a groan. he can't do it anymore. he's doing brain exercises to not pop the hardest boner of his life and you are not making it any easier when you keep giving him the prettiest smiles. you're happy, the kids are happy – everything should be good, but no – here he is, suffering because his parter looks fucking amazing. the fact that this is even a problem is mind-baffling to him. he is a strong man, no person is going to get to him just by being beauti—

"could you pass me the water, please?"

you're out to get him, he's sure of it.

toji peeks from under his hand and he's immediately blinded by a devil in disguise. the sun shines from behind you like a halo and the grin on your lips reaches behind your ears. sweat coats your skin and it makes toji's mouth salivate. what the fuck are you doing to him? hands on your hips, you stare down at your boyfriend and you give him another second to collect himself before quirking up a brow.

"toji?" you sound like a siren, you're pulling him in with your silky smooth tone. "the water, please?"

the corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile and toji has never moved faster in his entire life. "right."

he reaches for the bottle in the cooler beside him and gives it to you while making sure to look at you in the eyes and nowhere else. it's unbelievably hard – especially when the water starts trickling from the corners of your mouth and down your neck. toji gulps before turning to look at his kids instead. gumi's brows are furrowed as he's building his sandcastle while miki is busy building hers. toji cracks a grin.

"they're so– fucking cute." you whisper when you curse, a playful smile on your lips as you gush about the kids.

you love them so much already and you're glad that they seem to be liking you a lot too. that makes toji very happy; when the kids ask about you when they haven't seen you in a few days, when you do the same – he knows you really might be the one. it's a big thing to say, to even think, but he can't help it. it simply seems... right.

the water bottle hangs in front of his face and he's pulled away from his thoughts again. he goes to grab it and when he does, your free hand reaches out to him. warm finger wrap around his wrist and he melts at the soft, gentle touch. "come play with us."

a groan bubbles from his throat but it couldn't be any further from an annoyed one – you're sweet and you're excited, you're pretty and you're patient; you always welcome him and the kids with open arms and a bright smile. she would've loved you.

he throws the bottle aside and wraps his own hand around your own. "ya wanna play or the kids wanna play?"

his raspy voice and the stupidly handsome smirk he gives you make butterflies bloom and dance in your stomach. he makes you giddy, he makes you happy.

"i wanna play." you tug at him. "and the kids wanna play."

he can't say no to his little blessings and he can't say no to you. maybe running around will help clear his mind from the mischievious thoughts in his head. he doubts it, but he's needs to try.

in one swift move, he pulls your hand to his mouth while pretending to bite you and his eyes fucking twinkle when he sees your cute surprised expression and hears your little gasp. there's a moment, a second of the most comfortable silence before the corners of your lips twitch and you yank away from his hold, booking it towards gumi and miki with a loud cackle as toji pushes off the chair and takes off after you with fast steps.

your cheeks hurt from laughing as you watch toji catch megumi; he lifts gumi up with just one hand while tsumiki tries to poke her dad in the ribs in order for him to let boy go. when he finally lets the kids go... you feel his eyes on you. adrenaline pumps in your veins and you feel like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. you can't stop grinning. he can't either. a pair of arms wrap around your middle and your feet are being lifted up above the ground before you can even react.

while the kids are doubled over, running and stumbling over their own feet, toji growls in your ear. "gotcha."

you will take the next step today. no snotty kid of his will cockblock him again – they will be tired from the day and you will be all his to take care of. he'll show you his appreciation for being so good to him and the kids, for being so kind. and so... fucking hot.

he presses a kiss to your jaw but cringes when gumi and miki dramatically scream 'ew' at him. you feel him getting even warmer, his cheeks heating up and you try to save him by shooing the kids with a laugh. toji is grateful. he's happy that you're here.

[sttoru]

#𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: “show me you’re shameless, write it on my neck, why don’t ya?”

cw. married!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, angst to comfort. cheating/infidelity. unprotected. crēampie. bréeding themes. soft angsty-ish sèx. petnames ‘baby, sweetheart, wifey’ not proofread !

satoru has never loved the woman he married. he’s never felt an ounce of attraction or affection towards her. it’s hard to be around someone who he’s supposed to love and cherish, when all he can think about is you.

it’s you he was supposed to end up with if it wasn’t for his damned clan. setting up an arranged marriage behind his back and only telling him last minute of their plans— a bunch of assholes they are.

satoru could’ve declined, disagreed, ran away. he had all the power to, but he had fully convinced himself that his actual soulmate - you - would never return his love, which is why he settled.

. . . he was proven wrong after it was already too late.

“i love you s’much,” satoru grits his teeth as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his sweat trickling down his forehead. his hips move in a gentle rhythm, as tender as his arms are holding you. he never treated you roughly.

satoru wouldn’t do that to the love of his life. the one who he’s supposed to call his wife, his beloved. he’ll find a way to achieve his dreams. he’ll do anything to end up with you and escape this messed up arrangement.

but for now, he’ll love you like this. every day, behind the other woman’s back, for as long as he can.

“i love you too, ‘toru,” you sigh, tilting your head to give the white-haired man access to your neck. his tongue wets your sensitive skin before sucking on it. he’s claiming you as his— like he usually does whenever he manages to get ahold of you.

“say that again,” satoru whimpers against your throat whilst leaving soft kisses all over. the sounds of your bodies meeting bounces off the walls, the lewd noise of flesh hitting flesh is a melody that you both enjoy behind closed doors.

“please,” satoru pleads. you’re surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. he holds onto you - ruts into you - like he’s never experienced this before. his cock twitches and throbs within you, desperate to reach that aching release.

you swallow the lump in your throat. you feel bad doing this right on the bed that satoru shares with his wife, but you also couldn’t care less. “i love you, satoru, i really do,” you moan near his ear.

the sorcerer shivers at your pretty voice uttering those three words to him. his big hands hold onto your waist, fingers digging into your skin, leaving small dents. his breath hitches, “oh, fuck. y’do, huh?”

satoru curses as he lifts his head from your neck. the view of you beneath him while you take his dick all the way inside your sopping cunt is addicting. it’s also way too slippery because of the mixture of cum on your lower body and the sheets.

“ah,” you look down at the place your bodies meet the second you feel his cock slip out of your pussy. you reach a hand down and guide his tip back to your folds without much thought.

it’s a sight that makes satoru nearly bust a nut right then and there. “missin’ me already?” he tilts his head, that boyish smile on his lips reappearing again. his soaked, white bangs cover his ethereal eyes a little, yet you can still notice the playfulness in them.

“yeah, i do,” you sigh, whining a little as his cock slowly fills you up all the way again, “i always miss you, ‘toru.” you never fail to feel so full whenever you’re intimate with him— he’s big and knows just how to use that to his advantage.

satoru pouts at your words. he knows what you’re indirectly referring to amidst all the physical pleasure. he tries to make as much time for you as he can, without raising suspicion. though sometimes he fails to see you for days. balancing his work schedule, along with his many other duties and his private life was a hassle.

it’s frustrating when satoru is leading a double life, for both you and him. there’s nothing more in this world that he wants than to have you beside him forever. as his wife, not his secret lover.

one day, soon— he promises silently to himself and to you with a kiss.

“i’m sorry,” he breathes out, his thrusts resuming. two of his rough fingers roll your nipple between them, his tongue following to circle the sensitive bud while he drives his dick in and out of you repeatedly. “but i’m all yours tonight, yeah? only yours.”

you nod mindlessly. you trust satoru, he’ll figure this all out. for now, you’ll enjoy every single second you’re able to spend with him.

“mhm,” you hum before your eyes focus on his neck. you know he’s told you not to leave any marks on him, but tonight, you’re feeling shameless. your hand on the back of his head pushes him down until your lips touch his neck.

satoru’s eyes widen at your unexpected action. he can’t deny you anything, even if this is a risky thing to do. he moans when you suck and bite on his skin. you’re leaving hickeys he will have to hide from his wife.

“naughty fuckin’ girl,” he tries to groan, though it comes out as a choked up whimper instead. he bites his lip and his eyes nearly roll back when your legs wrap around his waist, all whilst you’re leaving those dark marks on his neck.

you softly giggle at your own bold move. satoru however, seems to enjoy this more than he thought he would. he allows you access to his neck while he focuses on his set pace.

“y’ just want me to get caught, hm?” the white-haired man clicks his tongue, his balls slapping against your ass, your juices sticking to his skin which makes the sounds of his thrusts even louder. lewder. satoru huffs, “want that woman to know jus’ how well i fuck you, sweetheart?”

you feel your body heat up, the knot in your lower tummy tightening. his increased dirty talk only could mean one thing; he’s close. and so are you. the pleasure of having satoru inches deep in your cunt after not seeing him for two whole days, is driving you insane.

“yes, fuck— yes,” you hiccup, feeling absolutely no shame at this moment. you don’t care how loud you’re getting, if satoru’s neighbours were to hear him have sex with a woman that’s not his wife.

the man himself doesn’t even seem to mind it either. not when he’s this close. he pants before pressing soft kisses against your forehead. the lingering feeling of your lips against his neck remind him of the hickeys you’ve left.

satoru moans against your hot skin. his dick twitches, his balls tighten and his arms wrap around you to cradle you against his bare chest. he’s going to fill you with his hot cum like you deserve. you deserve every single drop and he wouldn’t give it to anyone else but you.

“shit, g’nna cum,” satoru warns after a small whine leaves his throat, “take it, baby. don’t waste a drop, wanna breed you full.” his thrusts turn a bit erratic, body pinning yours to the mattress so you have nowhere to run. all you can do is lay there and take it— take his cum while you reach your own climax.

white dots appear in his vision as satoru releases rope after rope of hot, sticky cum inside of you. his hips are pressed tightly against yours— leaving no chance for his seed to trickle out of you.

the satisfaction that fills satoru’s chest is like no other. a small grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he leans his body weight on top of you slightly, catching his breath. your trembling frame rests beneath him while you’re trying to regain composure as well.

“there y’ go, atta girl,” satoru coos and kisses your forehead. he treats you so well, even after sex. he treats you like you’re his true wife. which you should be.

he rubs your sides with his hands to calm you down. his own breath is still shake as he looks down at you with a grin. a wicked idea pops up in his head once he sees the thick trail of cum that’s left on your slit after he pulls out.

“y’know how i told ya that i’ll make y’ my wife one day?” satoru hums, eyes focused on both your face and cum-covered pussy. he has told you before that he will find a way to officially make you his.

and he finally just realised the perfect way to do it.

“mhm,” you nod with a dazed look in your eyes. you wrap your arms around satoru’s shoulders and hug him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. you can practically feel the smirk on his lips as his breath ghosts over your ear.

his hand travels down to your tummy, fingers splayed over the soft flesh; “good, ‘cause y’re gonna need to play the part for me already. gonna fill you up ‘til you’re nice and swollen with my kids, wifey.”

[monstermommie]

everyone wants a werewolf girlthing until i’m in heat and you’re asleep when I get home. awwh, im sorry, bunny. fuck, mommy just couldn’t help themselves. you sleep so pretty, needed to stretch you out. clenching around my knot even unconsciously, what’s my horny pet dreaming about? awwh, are you bucking this pretty tail up against me? god, your ass is so soft, bunny. feels so good under my hands. you make the cutest little noises in your sleep too. christ, i’m not going to last long, your tight hole feels so good around my knot. awwh, sweetheart, mommy wants to knock you up real bad. need to breed this pretty hole, look at how you flutter around my cock. taking my knot so well. sweet bunny, mommy’s trying to be gentle, but i’m so close, need to rail you into the mattress. shh shhh, go back to sleep, my love. i’m almost done with you. i know, i know. fuck, d’you feel how big my knot is getting inside you. this part might take a while, go back to sleep, sweet thing. you did so well for me…

(i’m so crossfaded, is this anything?)

[bandgie]

Just Once - Say Yes

werewolf!Chan x fem!reader

warnings! MDNI 18+, biting, very slight blood mentions, PIV, no protection, rut, knotting, fingering, nipple play, reader says it hurts once, breeding mentions, monsterfucking? (I could have done more)

notes! you know im down bad when I get wet from just seeing images of chan like what the fuck?

2.5k words

Chan knows he’s not supposed to be here, yet, that’s exactly where he is. It’s almost as if he’s not in control of his body and in a way he’s not. Your scent fills his nose even through the shut door of your bedroom. You’re sleeping, he figures. He can hear your steady, slow breaths and the gentle snores. 

His feet are planted, head resting on the wooden door as he groans. Chan wants so desperately to wake you up. To softly knock on your door until you answer in the dead of the night. Maybe seeing you will satiate his thirst. Just a glance at your figure can help him - it will be enough, but he’s not thinking rationally right now. He can’t. Not when his rut is at an all-time high. Chan is on top of his suppressors, but his breeding period and the full moon makes for an unbearable combo. 

He knows you will answer no matter how late it is. Chan can easily imagine you opening the door, dazed and confused. He would tell you he’s having a hard time by himself, tell you that he desperately needs your help.

Or maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all. He could just grab your plush hips and pull you into a kiss. Maybe you’d mumble sleepy questions, squeak when his hands find the fat of your ass, but you’d let him. He knows you would. 

That’s why he has to leave. Now. His cock throbs just thinking about how pliant you are for him. He tells himself that he’ll be satisfied with his hand or his fleshight which makes a shitty substitute. Chan knows breeding a human during such an intense time would be too much, too rough for them. As much as his body and wolf beg for you, that sliver of humanity is intact.

So he whines, quiet and high. Chan wills his legs to move, stepping back until he’s no longer pressed against your door. The floorboards creak under his feet with every step. He swears they’re telling him to go back, to bang on your door and pump you until he’s sure you’re knocked up. He really has lost it, convinced that the wood beneath is telling him to screw you.

Unbelievable. 

He’s too busy laughing and fighting with himself to hear you slip out of bed. Chan misses your quiet feet treading to your bedroom door, slowly opening it as you adjust your eyes in the dark. 

“Channie?”

The floorboards must be cursed to sound like you or maybe his rut is just that bad. He tried to brush off your call as him going insane, but the hair on his neck stands and the smell of you is so much stronger. Chan doesn’t want to turn around for your sake. His composure will break and he doesn’t want to imagine what you look like right now. 

“What are you doing out here?” You sound so tired barely coming out of your slumber. Chan doesn’t sense any fear from you, not even worry. You’re far too sleepy to feel anything beyond confusion. The trust you have for your lover, even if he is half beast, is endearing. It makes his heart swell and his stomach turn. He can’t tell if your love for him is naive or pure. Perhaps both.

He’s going to tell you that he’s okay. He just had a bad dream and needed to walk around the house for a bit. It’s not uncommon to see your boyfriend wandering the house late at night; you know how difficult it is for him to sleep. Chan was going to tell you, but he felt your hand wrap around his bicep. You gently tug him until he faces you and what a mistake that is. You’re dressed in a shirt much too big for you, his shirt. It barely goes past your ass and your pebbled nipples poke through the fabric. Your eyes are squinted, lips swollen from sleep. Chan’s eyes are captivated by your human beauty when you say, “Channie, is everything okay?”

No, everything is not okay. Chan’s been fucking into his hand for hours pretending it’s you - he’s knotted into his toy countless times. When he did get the stupid courage to go to your door, he backed away. It’s even worse now his cock is leaking being so close to you.

You should have stayed sleeping.

His strong arms wrap around your torso, pulling you in. There’s no time to question him when Chan presses his lips against yours. Your lover is usually gentle during kisses. He takes time to cup your cheek, to tilt his head so your mouths can better align. If he was really into it, he would suck on your bottom lip only to bite it until you gasped.

He doesn’t kiss you like that now, not even in the slightest. His hands cup your ass just as he imagined. They knead and dig into your flesh, pressing you flush against his crotch. His lips are rough and messy. Your teeth clash almost animalistically and he hears you whine into the kiss. Chan can’t tell if you're whining due to the neediness from his mouth or cock. He knows you can feel his stiffness against your leg. 

Your dainty hands find his chest to gently push at it. Chan’s usually good at reading the room, knowing what to do and when to do it. But this isn’t your Channie. He can’t even feel your fists when he keeps shoving his tongue down your throat. The taste of you is addicting. All he wants to do is feel you from the inside out. To have every part of him connected with you in the most primal way. 

It’s not until you whimper again that he notices. Chan sucks harshly on your tongue before he pulls away with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. His eyes are dazed when he looks at your features. Your face is flushed and your eyes are wide. If you were still asleep before, you’re wide awake now. Chan can tell you’re trying to come up with what to say, but you already know. You can feel his boner on your thigh, you can see the glow in his eyes, and the fact that his body seems thicker, denser. Chan has only let you see him during the end of his rut. He’ll lock himself in his room for days until he’s ready to socialize. You could always hear him on the other side though. How the slick sounds of whatever he’s using are surely filled with cum. If you pressed your ear against the frame, you could hear him softly calling out your name. You wanted to see him so bad. No matter how many times you asked, Chan would turn you down. It’s too dangerous, he’d said. I don't want to hurt you.

But that Chan is nowhere to be found. Instead, you’re faced with the very wolf he’s tried so desperately to keep you from. 

“Sorry,” he already knows what trouble you’ll be in tonight. “Hurts so bad. I can’t take it.” Chan grinds his cock to show you. “Just one knot. Just one I promise.” Ah, a promise. You both know how much Chan loves keeping his promises, but this is one he doesn’t know you’re hoping he’ll break. 

He doesn’t even know why he’s asking. He doesn’t think stopping is possible at this point, but he’d try. Chan is already trying to ignore how his lips ache for yours and stop thinking about how perfectly your body molds into his, but you hold on to him tighter. 

Chan doesn’t hear you say yes with how loud his blood drums in his ears, but he does see you nod. The sultry look in your eyes will do you more harm than good. He doesn't ask twice, doesn’t think twice. He smashes his lips against yours again, walking you back to your room without caring how you trip over your own feet. 

You feel the bed on the back of your knees and Chan rips himself from the kiss. He pushes you on the mattress, quickly crawling over you as one of his hands lifts the shirt to your shoulder. You gasp at how quickly he’s moving. His hot mouth is already latched onto your nipple while his hand dips past your underwear. 

By some magic, you’re already wet. Chan only plays with your clit for seconds before dripping his thick fingers into your heat. Squeals and wet pumps fill the room. Your back arches when he bites on your nipple, tugging the bud and letting go before doing it all over again. Bruises are already forming on your breast and Chan is eager to make your other match. His slick fingers pull from your pussy to tug your underwear down instead.

Your panties hang from one ankle, legs wide as Chan settles between them. The entrance of your cunt slightly gapes from his fingers. No time is wasted as he shrugs his boxers off, eyes never leaving your core. You almost want to close your legs from his staring, but you would miss the view of his cock springing free. 

“Oh shit,” you gawk at his size. Chan’s always been thick, a fat head that always stretches you out just right. But this - this is massive. His rut must make everything bigger. Even the knot that sits at the base of his cock seems triple in size. “Channie, I don’t think- there’s no way in hell you can fit.”

But he’s already stroking himself. Your worries fall on deaf ears when his fat tip touches your clit. He moans at the feeling of your lips around him. He presses his cock so that it grinds against your flesh hard. Your mouth falls open, gaze dropping so you can see him rock against your pussy. 

You think you could cum just like this. His engorged cock provides the perfect veins and ridges for stimulation. Still, your cunt clenches pathetically around nothing. Curiosity is a dangerous thing. It makes you think about what it would feel like to have his raw cock in you. Chan can tell you’re ready for it when you start grinding back, tilting your hips so his tip catches your entrance. 

It’s going to fit - he’ll make sure. Even if you cry and beg for him to slow down, he knows your body will break for him.

And it does just that with the first intrusion. The swell of his cock easily slides into you with a few inches following before he meets the inevitable resistance of your tight cunt. You whine, hands finding purchase on the pillow beneath you. It doesn't hurt, not in the slightest, but you can feel the pressure. Your walls clench and squeeze his girth until he forces himself to pull an inch out.

“Baby, shit,” he breathes. Chan attempts to gain composure through controlled inhales and exhales. “Why are you always so tight?”

Before you can even think about answering his rhetorical question, he thrusts himself deeper. Chan follows his breath, using his airflow as a metronome. In, out, in, out. Deeper, inch by inch, before he sees his knot come to contact with your cunt. 

He’s trying, really trying not to just pin your hands down by your sides and fuck his hips into you. Instead, he keeps his hands at your thighs, but he’s not sure if that’s any better. Chan’s claws dig into your tender flesh leaving marks that nearly split your skin. It must hurt with how hard he’s gripping you but your eyes roll to the back of your head with every thrust. 

Just like he thought, you’re so good to him. Even with your pretty whines and whimpers, you’re still such a good girl for your Channie.

Such a good girl.

It gets to him: your flushed cheeks, your bouncing tits, the moans that tumble from your swollen lips, and how your hands have moved from the pillow to try and grasp onto him instead. You must want more, he reasons. You must with the cream he sees coating his length every time he pulls out. You must with how you’re chanting his name, nearly sobbing it. 

You must with how you make his knot ache, begging to already shove its way inside you and spill. 

Chan can imagine it, he can taste it. It’s such a strong need that he growls, his sharp canines showing from his lips pulled back into an animalistic snarl. Saliva drips down his teeth when he thinks about biting you. Leaving marks on your neck that will only help hold you down while his knot finds its place in your womb. You hardly notice the droll seeping your tummy, too caught up with how harshly Chan is fucking into you.

You do, however, feel how his hips change pace. They get harder, sloppier as if he’s trying to shove that god-forsaken knot into you. 

“Channie!” It’s half-panicked and half-breathless. “Wait! That’s not - hng! I can’t-”

“You can,” he snarls. “And I will.”

Now you can see his teeth that clamp down so hard that his drool is tinted with pink. This is the first time you’ve seen him for what he truly is - a beast. A monster in its purest form with eyes that seem to glow, pitch-black nails that will surely leave marks for weeks, and canines you know can shred you in a second. 

Even with all of that, you know that this man - this wolf - is Channie. Your Channie.

So you don’t whine against him anymore. You don’t try to escape him when he lays his head in between your shoulder and neck to sink his teeth into. You embrace the bite, fully expecting unbearable pain, but instead, it’s blinded by the stretch of his knot in you.

Pleasure and pain intertwine, unable to separate from each other when Chan completely surrounds you. But your body reacts before your brain can. You let out a yelp and scratch your dull nails down his sculpted back. Chan moans into your neck at the feeling, shoving his hips impossibly deeper just to feel you do it again. 

“Sh-shit! Channie! Hurts…” but he doesn’t see your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of his seed pumping into you. 

Chan doesn’t reply, can’t reply with how he’s pulled his teeth from you and begun licking your wounds. But he knows. His balls tense and release with every spurt of cum he gives you and you whimper with every pump. 

He’ll apologize in the morning; pamper you and make sure that you’re well rested. He’ll make sure to take care of you real good, especially with the chance of you giving him pups. 

Fuck. He can’t think like that. His cock jumps at the thought and he swears his knot swells all over again. Chan inhales your human scent, reminding him that you’re his priority no matter how much his rut makes him needy to breed. But even in his frenzy state, he doesn’t dare to tell you knotting can last up to 30 minutes.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Forced | Carlos Sainz Ver.

WC: 19K

Carlos x reader

Summery: When your fathers make a pact before you're born to marry their children, you and Carlos have to see it through.

Warning: cursing, forced marriage, bad parents, asshole-y Lando, cursing? misogyny, some other things I can't remember

A.N: There's a difference between arranged marriage and forced marriage. This is forced marriage ✌️

Masterlist

Carlos Masterlist

Charles vr.

Carlos remembers the moment he found out very well. He was 11 years old. Back from holiday with the y/l/n’s. It was a fun summer, he had so much fun. He didn’t have any karting completions, and he loved spending time and playing with you. You’re just 4 years old, and even though you're just a toddler, a baby in his eyes, Carlos loved playing with you. He’s always been gentle and loves kids. He doesn’t remember a time when you weren't there.

His mum and dad sat him down a day after they came back to Spain and told him the truth.

“It’s good that you get on well with y/n.” His mum said, confusing him.

”Why?” He knows they got on well, and it makes the family get together less chaotic, but why was it so good that his mum had to comment on it.

“Carlos you’re growing older now, and we feel like it’s time for you to know that…” His mum trailed off suddenly feeling nervous, she looked at his dad, he took her hand in his and gave her a squeeze.

”y/n’s father and I are old friends, and we made an agreement years ago, and we decided that one of my children will marry one of his when they’re both old enough.” Carlos Sr watchers as his son tries to understand what’s being told to him right now. The young boy is shocked. He can’t comprehend what he’s being told. “With her mum being so sick during the pregnancy and how rough the birth was, they’re not having any more children so that leaves you and y/n, you’ll be married once she’s 21.”

”W-what! but-but she’s just a baby!” Carlos is outraged. He feels like his whole life just took a turn. He wonders if it’ll affect his karting or his future plans, all his dreams not taken into consideration.

“Amor, she won’t be a baby forever, she’ll grow older and so will you, look don’t overthink it, there's still 17 years before something happens, but we just wanted you to know.”

And so Carlos knew, he knew for years. Every time he saw you, that was all he could think about. Carlos went through all the stages, he hated it, he hated his parents and yours, and he hated you. He hated how attacked you are to him. How you’d smile every time you saw him, oblivious, in your childhood innocence. You called his name so incessantly, and he hated it all. Then he began denying it, he ignored his parents, he ignored you, he ignored everything and everyone and just focused on racing. He then accepted it. He didn’t go to any function you were attending, but he accepted it he just didn’t want to see you before he’d be stuck with you forever. He never had any long-term relationships, his family always making it obvious that they didn’t approve and like his girlfriends. You were none the wiser. Your family didn’t tell you. They just left you to grow up as you liked, living your life with no looming marriage over you.

Carlos has no idea what you are like now, what your personality is like. He had no idea how you even looked. He’s made it his mission to ignore everything about you, to block you when you were old enough to be on social media. He’ll live his life as he wants before he can’t anymore.

And the moment he got the card, he knew it was over. The time is finally here. In his hands is the invitation to your 21st birthday party. Your family is holding a big celebration. And the driver had no obligations that day, he couldn’t get out of it. There’s no ignoring you anymore. There’s no toning out his parents when they talk about you.

You weren’t particularly excited for your birthday, your mum chose the dress when she saw that you wouldn’t. It’s not like you're ungrateful for the effort your parents put into it. But it's way bigger than it needed to be, and it's not like you had a lot of friends to invite. Almost everyone they invited you barely knew. Why they made a big deal out of it is a mystery for you. The party is even bigger than your 18th birthday.

The day of the party arrived, and a glam team was booked by your mother. Your make-up and hair were done to perfection. Your dress was made especially for you. It fit where it needed to and was loose where it needed. You had to admit that it looked good on you. You wouldn't have chosen it, but your mum made a choice that wasn’t half bad.

The party was in full swing when you made it to the venue. You blasted a fake smile when you walked in, and everyone shouted happy birthday and clapped and cheered for you. You greeted everyone just like your parents would've liked you to, but you had a champagne glass in your hand that you sipped on. The moment one was empty, you had another one in your hand.

Carlos was standing in the corner watching you. You've grown so much since he last saw you. He asks himself how nobody could tell how fake your smile is, or maybe they did, but they simply didn't care. He has a glass of some alcoholic beverage in hand that he sips on. He watches as a young female pushes her way through the crowd to reach you. Your smile instantly turns genuine as you hug her closer and longer than everyone else so far.

You manage to sneak away from the fake people with your best friend, and you both find a corner away from everyone. You're giggling with your friend as you people watch, clearly talking about the attendants. The party goes on for a long time.

"I'm so hungry." Lisa, your friend groans, and you give her a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, well, apparently, the reason the party is earlier in the day is because we're having a family dinner later." You complain and throw your head back, dreading the dinner, you're both now walking around the room in a slow circle, people have calmed and are now talking in groups, the dance floor is filled with older couples slow dancing. Some even left. They were only here to be able to say they came anyways.

"Oh my god! Isn't that ja- oomph!" You exclaim as you hit someone, you stumble, but a pair of hands stops you from making a scene and a big fool of yourself. You look up and meet a gorgeous pair of brown eyes.

You tilt your head to the side, and Carlos has to admit that you've grown so beautiful. Seeing you this close, he couldn't deny it.

"Sorry." You say and frown. "Do I know you?"

"I don't know, do you?" Carlos asks with a cheeky smile. He watches your eyes go wide. The accent is so familiar. You heard it for years from his father.

"Carlos?" You ask, and he smiles. It's him. You haven't seen him in so many years, you remember him vaguely from your childhood. You also remember following him on social media and trying to get to know him before you were blocked on everything. You take a step back and straighten yourself. "What are you doing here?"

This again confirms to him that you don't know about the agreement you both were robbed into before you were even born. "I was invited.”

"Huh, and you actually came." You state and Lisa gives you a questioning look. She doesn't know who Carlos is, you shake your head, and she knows you'll tell her later.

"It's your 21st, after all." Carlos says, and you roll your eyes.

"Good on you to remember, you don't come on holidays anymore." You tell him, and he just smiles.

"I heard you don't go anymore." Carlos fires back, and you nod. You haven't been going the last couple of years always finding an excuse not to go.

"I don't feel like it anymore." You shrug. "How long are you here for?"

"A week before I have to go back to work." Carlos puts his hands in his pockets, and you can't help but admire the man.

"Oh right, you race." You remember what your mother has been telling you, weirdly she's been trying to get you to go and watch Carlos race for a few years now, but you've been refusing

"I'll catch up with you later." Lisa whispers in your ears, you watch her go, and smile when you see the guys she's been watching all day by the bar.

"Do you watch the races?" Carlos asked you, bringing your attention back to him.

"No, I've never watched Formula 1, I only watch when your dad is racing." You have watched Carlos Sr. race a few times with your family, and you have to admit that growing up, you've been close to him, and you liked cars because of him. Not racing, but just you loved admiring cars and driving them.

"I should feel jealous then." You stand in silence for a moment, both looking at each other. There's an intensity to the looks Carlos is sending you. You don't know why.

"Oh good, you two have met." Your mum says, walking over to the two of you, Carlos's mum, Reyes, they're both smiling wide at the two of you.

"I was just about to go look for Lisa." You say and turn to leave before your mum takes hold of your arm and gives you a strained smile.

"Actually, y/n, the party is coming to an end, and we're about to head for dinner." Your mum says, and you frown looking at the Sainzs.

"Wait, they're coming with us?" You asked surprised, this is the first you've heard of it. No one told you this before.

"Yes, so be nice and come on." Your mum's voice is low, so only you could hear her.

"Then Lisa can come."

"No, and we're not going to talk about it." Your mum is getting agitated as she's been with you lately.

"But that doesn't make sense. Why can they come but not Lisa? She's my friend!" You don't care that they heard you, this is your birthday and the least they could do is let you invite your friend.

"y/n, listen to what I say, stop fighting with everything I say." She's not happy with you, and you know the threats that are about to come. "If you don't listen to me, you can kiss your house goodbye, your cards and everything you have will be gone."

You glare at her and turn to leave, you came alone with a driver. You don't bother saying goodbye to the last of the attendants, you just stop for Lisa, tell her a summary of what happened with your mum telling her to enjoy her night with the guy she's talking to before you leave.

On the way to the restaurant, you spot a shop you know well, an idea hits you, you tell the driver to park and hop out, still in your floor length gown and everything. The shop attendant looks at you wide-eyed as you head to the rack where the dress you have in mind is, your mum will kill you for this, but you don't care at the moment. If she wouldn't let you bring your friend then you're going to dress how you like.

You pay for the dress before you head to the changing room. The dress you choose is a better fit for a club, not a high-end restaurant that has been rented out for the night. It's short, just long enough so you wouldn't flash anyone when you sit down, and the neckline is dangerously low. A stark contrast to what you'd usually wear but who cares.

From the hostess to the waiters, they all looked at you with wide eyes, and you had a smile on your face walking through the restaurant.

Carlos is bored out of his mind, sitting at the table with his family and yours. They're all very comfortable with each other from spending years together, and he feels a little like an outsider. He's polite and answers when he's asked a question, but he's not engaging. He wants to know when you'd be informed of your predicament, but he doesn't want to bring it to their attention if they somehow miraculously forgot about it. From his place at the table and with an empty seat next to him, Carlos was the first person to spot you, his jaw dropped, if you looked beautiful and elegant in the first dress, you look HOT in this one. The dress left little to the imagination. He cleared his throat and readjusted himself in his seat, not taking his eyes off you.

"y/n y/n! what are you wearing?" Your mum screeched, making all eyes snap to look at you, Carlos heard one of his sisters choke on her drink and had to control the smirk from appearing on his face. He had a feeling from the look you gave your mum when she refused your friend that you'd do something, but he didn't expect this.

"A dress, dear mother." You reply with a dry tone and sit down in the seat next to him, Carlos's eyes drop to your legs for a second before he looks up and away from you.

"Just let her be for now." Your dad mutters to your mum, and she sighs, slumping in her chair. Slowly, the talking began again. Ana, Carlos's younger sister, leans over to start talking to you. Between all of you, you're the closest to her. Maybe it's because she's closer in age to you.

Carlos hasn't said a word to you since you sat down. He had to clench his fists when you crossed your legs, the already short dress moving upwards. "So y/n what F1 race do you want to go to, Carlos, can get you tickets to the one you like?"

"None, thank you." You say as politely as you can to Reyes, with a fake smile.

"I think going will be a good idea, you can get to know Carlos." You mum nudges, and you frown.

"No offence to Carlos, but why would I want to get to know him?" You ask, and the parents share a look. "Why are you all being so weird? Are you hiding something from me?"

This triggers something in you. They’ve been acting so weird for a long time now.

"No-y/n, it's just."

"Dad, what's happening?" You ask your dad, seeing how flustered your mum is, he'd lay it out to you. He's usually leaving all the problems with you for your mum to handle.

"You and Carlos are getting married." There it was said, the room went silent, Carlos's sisters didn't know where to look. You looked at your dad waiting for him to say he's joking, but he didn't. Carlos took a swing from his drink and sighed. He feels awkward right now. He hoped you'd be informed when he wasn't around and maybe in a gentler way.

"You're joking." You laugh trying to prompt them to say that they are, that this is all a prank and that they got you. None of that happens, and they're sitting there watching you. You throw the napkin on your lap on the table and stand up. "What the actual fuck is going on? How am I getting married to Carlos!"

"y/n sit down please." Your father begs and you glare at him.

"No! Someone better explain to me what is going on?" You looked at everyone, and it appeared like everyone knew about it but you. "Everyone knows? How can everyone know but me?"

"y/n, come here." Your dad is up and making his way to you. He has to pull you by your arm and to a private room in the restaurant. Your mum is following hot on your heels.

"Well, that went well." Carlos says and stands up. He walks to the balcony and leans on the railing, looking out at the night sky.

Your shouting could be heard from where Carlos stood, they're explaining the agreement, how it's legally binding, they're probably threatening you. Carlos is proud of your cursing and shouting and fighting back. He was scared you'd be raised to like and obey him, that you'd be timid and easily persuaded.

"I don't fucking care... daddy you can't make me do this.... I don't care, I don't care, I don't care... I will shout if I want to! You're not controlling my life!... I hate you, I hate you both so much!"

Carlos hears the door open and your heels clicking on the floor as you fast walk to the table where your phone sat. Carlos just makes it back when you've had them in your hands, your parents making it back as well.

"Lovely meeting you all, happy fucking birthday to me, I'll go die now." You say and walk off, pissed off and rightfully so.

"Go after her." Ana whispers to Carlos, and he looks at her with another nod of encouragement he follows you. He sees you standing outside clearly cold waiting for your car.

Carlos takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulder. You only spare him a glance. Carlos struggles to find words to say to you, he's known about this since he was 11 and he's come to accept it but here you are just finding out in front of him and his family.

"When did you find out?" You asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

"When I was 11." Carlos says and your face snapped to look at him, there's sympathy in your eyes, you have no idea what's better to find out when you're still a child and have everything robbed out of it, how can you continue being a child when you're told something like this, or is it worse being told in the same year, where you'd have no time to come to terms with it.

"This is fucked up." You say, shaking your head.

"Yeah." The car pulls up to a stop in front of you, but you don't make a move to get in. "They planned for us to meet again before I leave." You scoff at this, not believing how they have everything planned already before you were even told. "Give me your phone." You look at him and reluctantly hand him your phone, Carlos puts in his number and calls himself, so he'd have your number. "Go home, try to relax and think about everything, but just so you know, there's no getting out of this, legally, I've tried for years."

"It must've been hard for you." You say and give him a small smile. "Good night."

"Good night."

Carlos was right. Your mum sent you a text when you rejected her calls. She said that you have to come to this family function, you have to start being seen with Carlos. You half wanted to block her, but you knew that she'd just get a new number and then a new number and so on until you wouldn't ignore her anymore.

Carlos also texted you, but you only replied with one word answers, not feeling like replying to him. On the day of the function, you were sitting on the sofa in your home in a pair of shorts and a random t-shirt. Your doorbell rang in the silent apartment, making you sigh and reluctantly get up to see who it is. Opening the door, you see Carlos standing there. He's dressed in a white linen shirt with white shorts. Leaning on the door, you look at him but say nothing. You’re out of your heels, making Carlos realise how much shorter you are than him. The make-up is gone, and it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. This is a contrast from the dolled up version he saw on your birthday. Both beautiful, both breathtaking.

"I see that you already decided not to come." Carlos states, and you sigh and turn and walk in your apartment, Carlos following you closing the door. Carlos takes a moment to look over the apartment. You plop down on the sofa in the same position as before. "I texted you."

"You and everyone else." You say and text Lisa, not looking at him.

"You do know that if you don't go, they'll come over, right?" You haven't thought of that. You sit up and look at Carlos, who is looking at the artwork you have on the walls. He turns to look at you with a grin. "I suggest you change before that happens."

"But I don't want to go." You whine and sigh.

"Who said anything about going, I said change." Carlos smirks, and your eyes light up at the thought of him helping you escape your family.

"You'll help me escape?" You ask him hope bubbling inside of you.

"Yes"

"Oh my god, thank you!" You run to your bedroom, closing the door and changing into a sundress, taking your bag with all your essentials. "Did you drive here?" You ask Carlos coming out of the bedroom. He's made himself comfortable on your sofa. Carlos looks up from his phone, his eyes giving you a once over.

"No, I don't have a car here." You nod. It makes sense. He lives in Spain, after all.

"Well, you're in luck. Which car do you want to take?" You ask him and nod to where you had your car keys hanging one next to each other, a Porch, a McLaren, a Mercedes, and then a Ferrari.

"Wow, hermosa, I didn't know you liked cars," Carlos says and stands beside you to look at the logos on the keys. You grin and look at him.

"There's so much you don't know about me." You say, and Carlos looks at you also smiling.

"Well, let's change that." He takes the Ferrari keys, and you both make your way to the garage, Carlos presses the key and sees the dark blue Ferrari lights up. He gives you a look, and you grin.

"Do you want to drive?" You ask him.

"Yes, if you're okay with it."

"Of course, if I don't trust a race car driver to drive, who would I trust?" You tease him and get into the passenger side of the car. The 488 Pista is your baby. You only ever let Lisa drive it, but you trust Carlos to be careful. "Do you have an idea about where we could go?"

"Yes, don't think I didn't come prepared." Carlos said, and you laughed, you look out the window as the scenes changed. Carlos was driving close to the river.

"Be honest, you don't know where we're going." You say realising he’s gone in a circle.

“I don’t know, but we can just drive around.” Carlos admits, but it doesn’t sway him. You hum and agree. You sit in silence for a while with so many questions and possibilities going through your head. “You can ask me anything you want, I can hear you thinking.”

”Okay, but don’t regret it.” You warn him, and he laughs. You find yourself smiling as you watch him. It takes you a moment to find the first question to ask. “Did you stop coming on holidays and our families' meetings so you wouldn’t see me?”

”Yes, every time I saw you, I remembered what’s going to happen.” Carlos decided that being honest with you is the best thing that could happen. You’ve been lied to (by omission) for long enough.

“I’m sorry.” You suddenly felt guilty, even though you only just found out about it.

“Nothing to be sorry about, hermosa.” Carlos glances at you and smiles. “We’re both robbed into an agreement that was made way before we were even born.”

”Right, you said that you tried to get out of it. What do you mean?” You ask him, the first thing that came to your mind while talking to your parents is getting out of the agreement.

”It means that the contracts were signed and that if one of us breaks the contract, the other will be cut off by the families, financially and everything, we’d be publicly disowned.”

”Surely they wouldn’t do that.” You have problems with your parents, yes, but you love them, and they wouldn’t just throw you on the streets despite the usual threats from your mother.

”I’m afraid they would. Our parents want this marriage more than anything else.” Carlos says, and you groan, wanting to cry, as the reality of it all sets in.

”So we’re stuck?” Your voice wavers, Carlos looks at you and sees the tears gathering in your eyes. Carlos sports a parking spot, and he doesn’t care when he ilegaly overtakes the car beside him and parks. Carlos takes your hand in both of his much bigger ones. You look up at him, and a tear leaves your eye. You wipe it away and bite your bottom lip.

”We are, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing.” Carlos tries to comfort you the best he can. He was young and alone when he found out. He doesn’t want you to go through the same things as he did. “I’m going to try to make this as easy as I can, I know that you don’t want to get married to me, and you’re beautiful and amazing but I don’t want to get married to you, there’s nothing for us to do but try and make it easier for ourself.”

Tears leave your eyes, and you nod in agreement. You try to smile, but your lips wouldn’t even quirk up a little. Carlos is sympathetic; he's the only person who understands you right now. You’re both in the same boat.

“Have you thought about marriage before your birthday?” Carlos asked, he was hesitant, he dated knowing that it’s going nowhere, he’s never put his all in a relationship before, hasn’t given his heart to anyone, it may have not been fair to the women he’s been with but he protected his heart by keeping it close. Since you didn’t know it means you could’ve loved someone, hell, you could be in a relationship right now, you could be in love with someone and he’s forced to take you away from that person. Carlos may not want this marriage, but it’s happening, and he’ll be damned if he let his wife be with someone else. Call it toxic masculinity, call it possiveness, call it whatever you want, but from now on, you’re his. He feels bad for you, but it changes nothing.

”No, I haven’t, haven’t even been in a proper relationship.” You mutter and wipe the last of your tears away. You take your hand out of Carlos’s and look in your phone to see the state you’re in.

”I find that hard to believe.” Carlos is a tad bit suspicious. You’re beautiful. There’s no way a man hasn’t caught your attention yet.

”Well you best believe it, I wasn’t allowed to date when I was living with my parents, and then after, every person I was interested in just dropped me before anything happened.” You shrug and fix your hair, not looking at Carlos. You miss the look on his face. He knew what that meant, even if you had no idea. Your parents must have had a hand in this. He’s relieved, he doesn’t comment on this, and pulls out of the parking spot he was still parked in.

”You know what I find unfair?” You mumble, your head resting on the window as you stare at the city moving past.

“What?”

”That I was the last to know, you all knew and had time to come to terms with it and I’m expected to be okay with everything and get married by the end of the year or early next year.”

“None of this is fair, y/n.” He has a point, but it doesn’t make it better. There’s rage bubbling inside of you. You’re hurt, angry, betrayed, and it’s all simmering inside of you. “Hasn’t your parents called you?”

”My phone is on silent.” You comment and don’t make a move to check. “Have they called you?”

”I texted Ana and told her I’m with you.” You hum, and Carlos continues driving.

By the time Carlos drives back to your house, you’re both hungry. You don’t invite him up for food or drink, not wanting to spend any more time with him for the day. Carlos is nice. He’s caring, a true gentleman. You’re stuck within for the rest of your life, and you’d love to be as free as you can before you’re forced to be glued to him.

“Thank you for today.” You tell Carlos with a smile.

”No worries.” Carlos makes a move to get out of the car.

”Wait! you can keep the car while you’re here.” You feel bad making him take a car wherever he’s going next, and you have plenty, him having one for a few days will not affect you.

”Are you sure?” Carlos asks, you nod in confirmation. “Alright thank you, hermosa. Good night.”

”Good night.”

When you get to your apartment, you can see that your mum was there. She certainly went through your things, probably trying to figure out where you went. If you ever want to hide anything you know where to hide it, it’s your apartment, after all.

Looking at your phone, you wince seeing the 20+ pissed calls mostly from your mum. but a few from your father and the Sainzs as well. Your mum probably made them call you. You contemplate for a moment before you decide to bite the bullet and call her before she makes her way back to your house.

”y/n y/l/n, where have you been? Do you know how much i’ve called? Why are you ignoring me? This is so embarrassing, I can’t believe we’ve come to this!” Your mum goes on and on, you pull the phone away from your ear, and you still hear her voice screaming. It takes her a couple of minutes before she’s silent.

”Mum, I know that you know, I was with Carlos.” You tell her your tone nonchalant, pissing her off more. “This is what you wanted anyways, I’m spending my time with my ‘betrothed’.”

”So why didn't you just come? The Sainzs are leaving in a couple of days! You have to spend time with them.” She screams again, and you pinch between your eyes, feeling a headache coming in.

”I know them, okay? It’s not like you married me off to a strange family, I know them pretty well. The only person I don’t know is Carlos, and I spent the day with him, so win, win.” You try to reason with her.

”It’s not a win win-“

”Look, you and dad basically sold me before I was even born, and I was just told about it, I can do whatever I want, I’ll marry him but I’m entitled to be pissed off and go with getting to know him the way I want, goodbye and dont try to call me before next week because I wont answer.” With that, you hang up on her, leaning back. You fall onto your bed and close your eyes. “What a mess.”

To her credit, your mum lets you have your days, and she doesn’t call, but come next Monday, she calls you early in the morning. The Sainzs were out of the country, and your car was back in your garage with the keys left inside for you to take and a text from Carlos letting you know.

“When I said to not call until next week, I didn’t mean to call me at 6 in the morning on Monday!” You say answering the phone, Lisa goans and pushes you away. She spent the night at your house, you glare and get out of the bed, and head to the living room, leaving your friend to sleep before she has to get ready to head out.

”Oh be grateful, y/n.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

”I swear to god…” She mumbles a few things that aren’t that nice before she takes a deep breath to calm herself. You just have that effect on your mum. “Look, I just wanted to tell you that we decided the date for the engagement.”

”Wow, how nice of you to inform me of my engagement date.” You say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Do tell when will I be officially spoken for?”

”I’m choosing to ignore your tone-“

”You’re not ignoring if you’re pointing it out.”

”It’s in five weeks, I’ll send you the details.” You continue as if you haven’t interrupted her. “Carlos will get you tickets for the Italian Grand Prix in Imola, so be nice.”

”Why do I have to go there? there’s nothing about me having to make an appearance or act all lovey dovey with him.” You whine not understanding why they couldn’t just let you get married without all the show around it.

“Because, he’s a public figure, and we have to make it as natural as we can.” She was talking to you like you were a child, something that always irked you about her.

”Didn’t think of that when you all decided to force us into this, did you?”

”You better go to this Grand Prix and any other he gives you tickets for, do you understand?”

”I’m taking Lisa.”

“No you’re not!” You never understand what your mum has for your best friend.

”Yes I am!”

”No you’re not, Carlos is only sending you one ticket.” She’s seething right now. “Bye.”

You take a cushion, press it to your face, and scream, you scream and scream.

”What’s wrong with you?” Lisa asked stumbling out of the bedroom, half asleep.

”I’m going to Italy to see my future husband.”

”Oh.”

”Yes, oh.”

y/n

Can you send me two tickets 👉👈

please

Carlos

why? are you bringing a bf or smth?

y/n

ha ha

no ☠️

for Lisa, my friend

Carlos

your mum told me not to give you an extra one

y/n

and do you always listen to my mum

Carlos

no

that’s why I’m sending you an extra one

also I’ll make sure she has a room in our hotel

y/n

thanks

Carlos

no worries

see you in 9 days

y/n

9days!!!!

i didn’t know it was in 9 days

Carlos

woops

the race is on sunday

we have to be there on Wednesday for media on Thursday

y/n

cool

see you then I guess

Carlos

Wow don’t sound so excited to see me

y/n

go die 💀

Carlos

good beiging to this marriage

y/n

🖕

You fly with Lisa despite your mum's words. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her anyway. You didn’t see Carlos before Thursday, having reached the hotel and changed and went out to explore with Lisa. You girls had so much fun, you’ve never been to this part of Italy before.

On Thursday morning, you wake up to a knock on the door, you’re sharing with Lisa.

“y/n open the door.” Lisa isn’t a morning person, and it shows, you groan and get up to open the door, and it’s, surprise, surprise, Carlos.

”Morning.” You greet the spanish man with a sheepish smile.

”Morning, you guys have fun yesterday?” Carlos asked with a smirk. He saw Lisa on her bed behind you. The room was messy, and you’ve been here less than 24 hours.

”You can say that.” You say looking at the room over your shoulder before turning back to look at him. “When are we leaving?”

”In half an hour, just text me when you’re done, I’m already ready to go.” Carlos says and you notice the red team kit he’s wearing.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.”

You get ready first, thankfully you showered the night before, so you just had to get dressed and do your make-up. When you text Carlos once you’re both ready, he tells you to come downstairs. You see him standing with a few people from his team, waking over with a smile on your face.

”Good morning everyone, sorry we kept you waiting.” You say trying to sound as polite as you can.

”No worries, hermosa, you’re just on time.” Carlos says, he wraps an arm around your waist and introduces you to everyone. “… and this is y/n, my girlfriend.”

Your smile wavers at the word but you don’t say anything. Getting in the car you sit in between Carlos and Lisa.

”Girlfriend?” You whisper and glare at him.

”What was I supposed to say? We’re getting engaged in a month.” Carlos whispers back and you sigh, leaning back in your chair crossing your arms. “I don’t like this as much as you do, but we have to play our parts.”

”Could’ve fooled me.” You mutter but say nothing else.

With sunglasses on, and Lisa following behind. You walk in with Carlos, he doesn’t hold your hand, but it doesn’t matter, cameras are snapping away at the two of you. This is all new to you, you’ve never had people trying to take pictures of you before.

”Just relax and act like they’re not there.” Carlos tells you, seeing how nervous you are, maybe he should’ve talked to you before you made your paddock debut. “Once we’re inside you can go and explore with Lisa.”

True to his word, Carlos showed you both where the Ferrari motorhome was and let you guys loose to explore.

“Who is that cutie?” Lisa asks seeing a picture of one of the drivers in orange.

”Don’t know.” You tell her not paying him much attention. “I feel like we should’ve done our research before we came.”

“True, but we’ve been to rally races before, how different could it be?” You give her a look and she shrugs. “Completely different, okay, I got it. We can research today, ooh look we can get merch!”

”Why do you want merch, we don't know anything about anything!” You say but get pulled by Lisa anyways, you do end up browsing with her, the sun was killing you, so you looked at all the different coloured hats. You go to the Ferrari ones and debat choosing either the 55 one or just the team ones.

”Hey, y/n, I’m paying, are you coming?” Lisa calls, you pick a hat and go to the cashier with her. “Supporting the team I see.”

”Stop, it’s hot and the sun is bothering me.” You defend yourself looking at the plain Ferrari hat.

”Whatever you say.” You gently push her away, making your friend fall into a fit of giggles. You couldn’t help but laugh with her.

You get ice cream and spend your time just entertaining yourselves. Carlos was busy filming for Ferrari and doing his interviews so you only saw him at lunch. Where he spent next to you but speaking with his trainer while you and Lisa were gossiping.

The ride back to the hotel saw you and Lisa tired, and silent.

“Looks like you tired yourselves out.” Carlos said and you just hummed. “I forgot to tell you at lunch, you know there’s hats with my number on them right?”

”I know.” You say and give him a playful smile. “It was right next to this one.”

The next day you spend more in the garage watching FP1 and FP2, you and Lisa tried to familiarise yourselves with everything that you researched the day before. Lisa did spend more time familiarising herself with the drivers. Watching the garage function, really made you appreciate everything more, it cemented how amazing this sport is.

At the end of of FP1 and FP2 Ferrari did better than they expected, the cameras flashed to the garage a few times, showing Alex, Charles girlfriend and they flashed to you at one point, but there was no name or anything under you.

The ride back to the hotel was more lively this time around, you’ve done your homework when it came to Formula 1 but you still have so many questions, so taking that time you ask Carlos about whatever came to your mind, and it seems that there’s still so much that you don’t know about.

”…drivers in the simulator at the factory overnight, going over all the data and all the possibilities.” Carlos was explaining, you were listening and nodding to his words as you’re starting to understand just the magnitude of the sport.

“Girl, check Twitter.” Lisa says interrupting your conversation, you lean over to look at her phone, and on her feed are pictures taken from your Instagram, with your name and age written for everyone to see.

”Looks like the online detective found my Instagram.” You comment and roll your eyes, not even wanting to know what they’re saying about you.

“That’s faster than I expected.” Carlos, thought that it would take them more time, since you’re not a public figure in any way.

“You underestimate the power of the fans.” You say and sigh. “It wouldn’t have been that hard, my family is linked to yours, and if anyone did any simple digging they’d find me on your sisters' Instagrams.”

”I guess that’s true.” Carlos took out his phone and opened Instagram. “What’s your username?”

”y/insta/n, but you’d have to unblock me first before you drop a follow.” Carlos freezes at your words, you let out a laugh and bump your shoulder with his teasingly. You watch as he types it in and unblocks you, only to find himself blocked, he turns to look at you with raised eyebrows. “What? You blocked me first.”

You take out your phone and see the amount of notification on Instagram, will have to turn them off for sure. You unblock Carlos and follow him, and he does the same.

”You guys just confirmed to everyone that you’re dating.” Lisa informed you and you gave her a sarcastic smile and a thumbs up. “So Carlos… are you friends with Lando?”

This makes you burst out laughing, only your friend would ask something like that to a guys she barely knows.

”Yeah, I’m having dinner with him today.” Carlos says and Lisa looks at you with wide eyes and pouting lips. You grimace and look at Carlos who was smirking.

“y/nnnnn.” Lisa whines and takes your hand in hers, you look at her and sigh. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She hugs you before turning to Carlos. “When are you meeting him?”

“At 7.”

“We'll be ready before that.”

And so Lisa robbed you into a dinner with your future husband and one of his friends, you were not in the mood for acting all lovey-dovey with Carlos. Nonetheless, you get dressed in one of your dresses, fix your hair and touch up your make-up. Carlos does text you and say that you’re all going to a nearby restaurant, that’s private.

Carlos was waiting for you guys downstairs when you were done. His eyes ran from your hair down to your feet, taking you in. He noticed how much you liked dresses and how good they look on you. You’re always in some type of heels or chunky sneakers, giving your height a boost. But his mind goes back to when he was in our apartment and how short you are compared to him, he has to clear his throat and look away for a second to stop his mind from wandering too much.

Carlos leads you to the car, you sit in the passenger seat with Lisa in the back and of course Carlos is driving. The music is turned on low and a small chatter is happening between the three of you.

The three of you get out of the car once Carlos parks, he finds his place by your side even though Lisa is talking to you. You don’t notice his hand in the air behind your back before it drops to his side clenching. Carlos did not expect the possessiveness that’s ignited in him each time he sees you, you’re doing something in him unknowingly and it frustrates him how unbothered and unaffected you are.

The hostess lead you to a table at the back, Carlos pulls your chair for you and takes the one next to you after you’ve sat down. Lando arrives a few minutes later, he quickly greets Carlos warmly, before he turns to you.

”And you’re y/n?” Lando asks you smile and nod.

”Yes, it’s lovely to meet you.” You say, Lando gives a small and not all there smile before he turns to Lisa and greets her, he sits across from Carlos and next to your friend.

”So Carlos told me he was your first teammate, how was he like?” Lisa asked trying to start a conversation.

”Uh, he was great, couldn’t ask for a better teammate to have at the start of my Formula 1 journey.” You could tell how close the two are, how much love and respect they have for each other. “Yeah, Carlos is super nice to those he’s not forced to be with.” You know then that he knows about what’s going on between you and Carlos, for one you don’t have to act which is a good thing for you. Carlos gives Lando a look. “What? I said nothing.”

The waiter comes and takes your orders, before leaving.

”So, y/n, what do you do?” Lando asked, it looked like had his sights on you for the day.

”I’m still studying.” You say and give Lando the fakest smile you could master.

“And what do you plan after that?” Lando may have seemed slick and just interested in what his friends 'girlfriend' is like but it's not working on you, or the other two on the table.

“Don't know, still have time to decide.” You shrug and look at Lisa who didn't may have just lost all her interest in Lando.

“How does a housewife or gold digger soun-”

“Oh my god!” Lisa exclaimed and leaned away from Lando as if he'll contaminate her if she stayed close.

“Get off it Lando.” Carlos was not happy, he told Lando not for him to torment you, but to share his worries with a friend.

“Its okay Carlos.” You say with a sickly sweet smile and pat his hand on the table where it clenched, before you turned to Lando. “Since we're all adults here, and we all know what's going on, why don't you say whatever you want to say to me Lando.”

“Hermosa.”

“Honestly Carlos, it's fine, we don't know each other that well, but best assured I can take care of myself and I'm not easily bothered.” You tell him and he sighs and leans back in his chair in defeat. You gesture for Lando to go on.

“Look, Carlos is my friend, and I don't like him being forced into this by your family.” Lando starts, he's moving his hand as he speaks. “I don't understand why you're going along with it! Why can't you look for a way out? Carlos has dreams and he's on top of his career right now he doesn't need this.”

“I understand that you care for your friend Lando, I truly do, which is why I'm not taking any of those to heart.” You tell him and tap your fingers on the table as you pause for a second your eyes giving him a once over, noticing his blazing eyes wanting to just erase you from existence. “But while you were thinking about Carlos, Lisa was also thinking about me, asking why did his family make this happen? Why couldn't he find a way out of this?” You see him opening his mouth to reply. “No, you had your turn now it's my turn. I also have dreams, I also want to do things and I don't want to be stuck in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life. Me and Carlos, we're like pawns in this, we have no say, so don't you dare judge me, you have no idea what's it to be in my position.”

“This whole thing is just a big fat lie!” Lando exclaimed, and your eyes are no longer kind, they're no longer brought and light. You're angry, you're agitated.

“Well this big fat lie is my life! It's my reality!” This takes Lando by surprise, it looks like for the first time Lando sees you and he takes you in. The intensity of his gaze softening as he watched you. His shoulders slumped slightly, the anger draining from his face, replaced by a weary sadness.

“Look, I’m sorry.” He said quietly, his voice now devoid of its earlier harshness. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I just... I care about Carlos. He’s like an older brother to me. I want him to be happy.”

You blink, taken aback by his sudden change in tone you take a deep breath, the tension in your body easing slightly. “I understand, Lando. I want him to be happy too. But this is bigger than both of us. We’re all caught in this web, and there’s no way out. The only things we can do, is try to make the best of this situation we found ourselves in.”

You give Lando an olive branch smile, he returns it with one of his own although it was tinged with sadness. “I just... I don’t want to see my friend miserable.”

“Neither do I,” you replied softly. “Neither do I.”

As the tension between you eased, Lisa smiled.

“Well, that was intense.” Lisa said giving you a look of encouragement, you just give her a nod. “Looks like my choice in men hasn't gotten better.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Lando asked her confusedly, clearly Carlos hadn't told him that Lisa was interested in him.

“You do know that the reason we're having dinner with you is because I told Carlos I wanted to meet you, right?”

Those two biker and speak sarcastically to each other as they begin to get to know each other.

Carlos takes your hand under the table and gives it a squeeze, you look at him, only to find him already looking at you.

“Every time I see you, you surprise me.” Carlos mutters and you smile teasingly.

“Have to keep you on your toes somehow.”

“Then please don't stop.”

The night ends on a good note and a new number in Lisa's phone.

You go to a few races after that, always seen with Carlos, your relationship already confirmed to the public and it became well known that you've known each other since you were kids. Carlos ‘accidently’ said that you've been together for over a year, so when the engagement is announced it wouldn't be a big shock. Otherwise your life hasn't changed much, something that is bound to happen the moment there's a ring on your finger.

The fans thankfully fell in love with the story of young, childhood friends, losing contact then meeting years later and falling in love. And you were real in all the ways you could with the fans and cameras, that rebellious streak you have, has been noticed and noted by fans. And they love you all the more for it.

The Spanish Grand Prix is where you’re headed to next. Your family was also in Spain for the event, and it’s the last Grand Prix you’ll be attending before your engagement is announced.

You were staying at the Sainzs’ house, where you always stay when you’re in Spain. Eating breakfast there before heading out to the paddock, it became a family affaire, you have no idea how his team managed to get him this many passes, but home races are different after all.

”My mum has been hounding me those last few days.” You complain to Carlos as you walk through the paddock together, him in Ferrari Kit and you in a red dress and a red Ferrari hat, no number still.

“She’s just stressed about the engagement.” Carlos tells you and slows down just enough so you could walk in front of him through the crowd of people, his hand makes it way to the small of your back. His hand is big and hot on your back, it has you suppressing a shiver.

“Highly doubt this is the reason.” You tell the Spanish man now by your side, his hand not moving from the small of your back as he leads you around the paddock, you’re not even focusing on your destination just letting him take you wherever he wants.

”My mum has also been stressed.” Carlos forever trying not to make your mum a bad person in your eyes, but you know her well enough to know how she is.

”Carlos, your mum and my mum may be friend but they’re completely different.” You tell him and meet his eyes for a second, in that second Carlos thought he saw some sadness in your eyes, but he can’t be sure. “There’s a reason I always spend time with Anna at your family house and not mine.”

”And here I thought you just like the Spanish heat.” Carlos teased and you bump your shoulder with his. “But don’t mind her too much, in a few days she’ll be back home and you’ll be free from her.”

”True.” You mutter and take a deep breath, slowly releasing it. You reach the Ferrari garage from the back, and Carlos leads you through the hospitality and to his driver’s room, the one that has his bed. You walk in and see a beautiful bouquet of flowers, tulips to be precise. “Ohh look someone got you flowers.”

You walk over to the tulips admiring them, they’re your favourite kind. You touch the petals and take in a whiff of the scent, Carlos stands by the door smiling, the sun coming in from the windows leaving you glowing.

”They’re for you.” Carlos leans on the door and shameless stares at you, your head snaps to look at him.

”What?” You want to make sure you heard him correctly.

”I got them for you, Anna said they’re your favourite.” Carlos watched as the smile on your face grew bigger and he saw a side to you that he never did before, a blush dusts your cheeks and you look… shy. It makes him proud of his decision to get you flowers.

”They are? What’s the occasion?” You ask him, holding the flowers in your arms.

”No occasion, just wanted to give you something that will lift your spirits.” Carlos’s gaze didn’t waver from your form, but the smile on your face made him smile.

”Well, consider them lifted.” You look at Carlos and walk up to him. “Thank you.”

You wrap an arm around his neck careful of the bouquet in between you. Carlos hugs you loosely, he takes in your scent. The smell of your shampoo and perfume filling his nose, you’re in feels making your reach that bit easier. You both stand there for a moment before you pull back still smiling. You don’t think you’ve ever gotten flowers from anyone before.

So you best believe you’ve taken a million pictures of them, some made their way onto your Instagram story. With those flowers Carlos made you happier than any jewellery your family got you, it’s something so simple but makes you the happiest.

After the end of the Grand Prix and before your parents have to leave, they’re sticking around for two days. For the engagement of course.

You were with Anna in her room, laying on her bed as she did something on her desk. She was telling you about a new drama happening in her friend group.

”y/n.” Carlos calls your name coming in the room, you sit up and look at him.

”What?” You ask him tilting your head to the side slightly.

”Let’s go.” Carlos said simply and that confused you even more.

”Where?”

”Just come, or your mum will be all over us in a few minutes.” Carlos knew exactly what to say, you were off the bed and out of the room in seconds, just stopping in yours long enough to take your purse. Carlos lead your to his matt grey Ferrari, you get in the passenger seat and it doesn’t take long before Carlos drives off.

”Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You ask the Spaniard besides you. “Or are you going to tell me you know where we’re going, but in fact you’ll be lost and we’ll just drive around?”

”Hey, it was only one time.” Carlos defends himself, you smile and look out the window trying to see where you’re going. “I’m just taking us to my house, we can have a moment alone before…”

Carlos trails off but you know what he means, before the engagement is out for everyone to know about. It’s your first time at his house, the house is big and as you walk in, it screams Carlos. A bit man cave-y, but still him.

”Do you want anything to drink?” Carlos asked, walking into the kitchen, leaving you to look around as you like.

”No thank you, I’m sure we’ll be drinking enough once we’re back.” You tell him and look at the few pictures he has up on the walls. You’re looking at a painted F1 Ferrari on the wall when Carlos comes back to you. “I always wonder what it's like driving that fast.”

“Very thrilling and adrenaline pumping.” Carlos says and you turn to look at him, there’ a glint in your eyes that he’s familiar with nowadays.

”You’re lucky my parents didn’t let me get into karting, or you’d have some serious competition.” You tease and walk around him to the sofa, you plop down and it just sucks you in. “This sofa is so comfy.”

”I bet you’d be , would have my money on you anyways.” Carlos joins you on the sofa and looks at your relaxed state, he likes seeing you here, in his house. He hates what he’ll say next seeing how comfy you are right now, but this talk has been long overdue. “I think we need to talk about a few things.”

“I guessed so.” You say and sit straighter, pulling your legs up on the sofa and to your chest, your hands around your legs, head on your knees as you look at Carlos.

”With the engagement things will become different, more media will be all over you, a lot of things will be said, a lot of speculation.” Carlos wants you to be as ready as you could, he’s heard and seen what it does to wags and he doesn’t want you to be affected by it. “I know you’re strong and can take care of yourself but just be ready.”

”I will, don't worry.” You can tell there’s more to come, Carlos is just taking it easy to start. “Now tell me what you really wanted to talk about.”

”We live in different countries, and I don’t want to make you come live in Spain if you don’t want to, but for this to work, I think it’s best you stay here, whenever I’m here, You still have another two years at university, so I wouldn't want you to move in right away, but just when you can.”

”I’ve been thinking about that, and uh after the wedding, I can switch to online school.” You tell him meeting his eyes, Carlos looks surprised, you chuckle and shake your head lightly. “It’s getting boring anyways, people keep asking me about you when I go. Plus there’s so many countries I haven’t been to yet, that you travel to for racing.”

”I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” Carlos promises and you grin.

”You know, I’m a trust fund baby right?” Carlos raises his arms in defeat and you smile. “You can pay for my cars to be shipped here.”

”Okay, wow, I see how it is.” The tone turns serious once more. “I never said I was sorry about all this.”

”You most definitely don’t have to, this wasn’t in our hands, there’s nothing we can do about it.” You move closer to Carlos and pat his hand in comfort. “And if it’s of any comfort, I’m glad it’s you and not some asshole.”

”I’m glad it’s you too.”

”See, we only have to look at the bright side of things.” You both stay silent for a moment, your hands right next to each other. “Have you chosen the ring yet?

”Yeah, yeah, I have it.” This gets Carlos moving, he disappears to a different room, before he comes back with a velvet box in hand. Carlos sits next to you, your knees almost touching and angles himself to you. He opens the box and there’s a beautiful three stones ring all round cut, with small diamonds on the band.

”It’s beautiful.” You say smiling, it doesn’t feel like your ring, you’ve never been engaged before but you know this is not the feeling you were supposed to have. This isn’t how you’d always imagined your engagement to go. It’s all real now.

”Do you want me to…” Carlos wants to ask before he trails off, he takes in the look on your face, a tight lip smile and teary eyes, you bite your lips and scrunch your nose for a moment, trying to keep them at bay.

”No it’s alright.” You mumble and take the rings out the box and slip it on to your ring finger, it fits you perfectly, a few tears slip from your eyes, and unlike many it’s not from happiness, it’s sadness, you were robbed of a proposal, of dating, of loving, or choosing.

”I’m so sorry, y/n, truly, I wish I had found a way out of this.” Carlos tells you sincerely, you take a deep breath brushing your tears away and you lean over and hug him, Carlos doesn’t hesitate before he hugs you back, you both need this. This hug means a lot to the both of you.

“Stop apologising, please.” Your voice is muffled as you hide your face in his shoulder, he holds you tighter. You don’t know how long you’ve sat there for before you pull back with a fake and weak smile. “I should take a few pictures for Instagram, before we have to head back.”

Carlos watches you as you go through the motions with no real emotion behind your action. It’s something you have to do.

The drive back is silent as you try to control all your emotions, there’s still more pictures you have to take, more smiling, more laughter. When you walk in, your mum is the first to notice the new addition on your finger, she squeals s if she had no idea it will happen today. They all congratulate you like this has been your choice all along. You just say thank you and smile. They pose you and Carlos for pictures, they take turns standing in and having group pictures taken, you and Carlos just go along with everything.

Wine bottles have been popped and drinks were passed around, Carlos didn’t drink knowing he’d drive back to his house. He’s made to sit next to you and Anna takes your other side. He’s happy talking with you both and not stuck with the others. His older sister and husband are not here for the occasion.

Your parents seemed to have drunk more than they could handle as you can see your mum getting tipsy and then drunk. You pay them no attention until something is said that has all your attention on them.

“-I mean we worked so hard to push them away from her, my y/n so beautiful.” Your mum says and you stare at her in horror, Reyes tipsy but still more sober tries to gets your mum to stop, but once she began there was no stopping her. “All those boys we paired off to stay away from her, and we tried to get her to go to a race for so long, but she’s just so stubborn, oh god, I’m so happy, can’t wait for her to get married, who knew who’d bring if we didn’t do that, always rebellious-“

”I’m glad you’re happy.” You mutter glaring at your parents, before you get up and storm out of the room, your mood changing so much throughout the day. So many ups and downs, more downs though.

“y/n, wait!” A few people shout after you, you don’t stop, you know someone is following you out of the house but you don’t even glance to see who it is.

”Hermosa, wait!” Carlos calls for you, you don’t stop but slow down as he reaches you. “I won’t try to defend her this time, but do you want to stay at my house tonight?”

You just nod, unable to gather your strengths to speak. Once more you get in Carlos's car and he drives you to his house in complete silence. Carlos knew about the agreement long before you did, he was allowed to date and explore meanwhile, you were watched and robbed of those experiences. Feeling as if though none likes you, that you're unlikable, unattractive.

Carlos leads you through the house to his bedroom. “I'll get you some clothes and you can shower if you want, the bathroom is right there.”

You just nod and go into the bathroom, Carlos brings you a shirt and a pair of shorts. “thanks.” You mumble. Carlos stands at the door for a sword debating what to say if anything, before he leaves you.

You strip out of your clothes, and hop in the shower, the water is hot on your skin but you don't care, you just stand there and the tears start leaving your eyes. They disappear with the water down the drain leaving no trace of them.

Carlos is texting his sister, on his bed when he hears your sobs. He feels so bad for you, your family has gone about everything so wrong. They've so set on reaching their end goal, and didn't care about what it would do to you in the process. His family isn't that much better, but between the two of you, he's had it much better.

And all he can do now is sit and hear you cry, there's nothing he can do to make it better.

The water stops, and you're no longer crying, but you don't come out for a while. Carlos gets a notification that you posted on Instagram, yes he has your post notification on. He opens it to see a picture of the two of you at his family’s house. your hand on his chest with the ring visible for everyone to see, his hands are on your waist as you both smile at the camera. You also post a story of the engagement ring, with fake words that mean nothing to him.

He looks up once he hears the bathroom door open, and even if you were just crying, seeing you in his clothes has him wanting to pull you closer. The clothes are big on you, the shirt hiding most of the shorts, that you must've pulled the string off so much to get them to fit your waist.

“You don't have any conditioner.” You tell him acting as if you haven't just spent half an hour crying in the bathroom.

“Yea, uh, sorry, I don't use conditioner.” Carlos says and blinks a few times, you're busy towel drying your hair to notice his eyes on you.

“You don't use conditioner? How is your hair always so… Soft and fluffy then?” You finish with the towel and look at him.

“Good genes I guess.” You nod to his words. “You can sleep here, I'll take the guest bedroom.”

“No way, this is your room, I'm not taking it from you.” Carlos walks Closer and places his hand on your shoulders, from this close he couldn't see how red your eyes are.

“Just please, take it, the bed is comfier here.”

“But-”

“For me, please.” Your eyes don't stray from his, and you see the sincerity in them, so you reluctantly nod.

“Okay, yeah, thank you.” You mumble and look down.

“No worries, hermosa.” Carlos kisses your cheek softly, and leaves you standing there. Your eyes has gone wide, his lips leaving a tingling feeling in their wake. Your cheeks are red and your heart is beating fast in your chest.

“What are you doing to me?” You ask yourself, before you shake your head and head to bed.

Laying in his bed, under his covers on his pillows leaves you feeling as if you're being hugged by him. He's all you can smell, as if he's right there next to you, and maybe that's why you fell asleep so easily.

The next morning you wake up to the scent of pancakes, making your way to the kitchen you see a shirtless Carlos moving around. He doesn’t notice straight away, so you take the time to appreciate his physique. You know he’s fit, he’s an F1 driver for goodness sake. Seeing him there in front of you, with no fireproofs or anything is another things. His shoulders, strong arms, thick neck and chest down to his abs and then the v line leading into his pants, it all got you feeling hot.

”Morning.” You eventually manage to say and walk closer to see what he’s doing and not stare him to death.

”Good morning, did you sleep well?” Carlos asked turning to look at you.

”Yeah, slept like a baby.” You tell the taller man, rounding the counter to see if there’s anything. you can do to help. “Do you need help with anything?”

”No, I got it, almost done.” Carlos says and waves you to the other side of the counter to sit on one of the island chairs. “Have you seen your phone yet today?”

”No, it died, I need to charge it.” You tell him. “Why? Is the internet on fire yet?”

”Just about, best not check your social media or maybe restrict your comments for a while.” Carlos doesn’t meet your eye, which has you chuckling, he looks at you confused.

”I won’t be doing any of that, I don’t care, it doesn't matter how real our relationship is, no one has a right to say anything about who you're with.” You say and thank him for the food he placed in front of you.

“Still I don’t want you to be subjected to any of that.” You shrug and take a bite of the fluffy pancakes.

“These are so good.” You tell the diver and take another bite, Carlos is proud of himself, he loves cooking and what he loves more is cooking for other people.

“Eat as much as you want.”

”Oh, I will.”

You don’t log onto your social media until you’re back i your home with Lisa, she’s been telling you what people have been saying about you and you’ve both have been laughing about it.

”There’s a lot of baby trapping allegations going around.” Lisa says and you look over her shoulder and scoff.

”As if I’ll ever do that.” You say before you suddenly get an idea. “I have an idea.”

“Ohh, talk dirty to me.” Lisa of course was all for it, she raided your skin care drawer, getting face masks for you both to put on. You get a Ferrari wine bottle out and you both head to the bathroom, putting on the face masks before you pose in front of the mirror with the bottle clearly opened.

”beating the allegations one at a time.” Lisa says as she looks over the picture you take a sip of the wine. “I love this for us.”

In the months after the engagement a lot has happened, you’ve made more appearances at the paddock always with the ring on your finger. Lisa always came with or Anna and you’d spend the night with one of them, keeping the appearance that you're staying with Carlos to everyone else. The fans have been in uproar about everything for a couple months, but things have calmed down, Lisa and you have found ways to always prove the rumors wrong. And maybe Lisa had other reasons to attend races now, that didn't have to do anything with you.

Meanwhile wedding plans have commenced, the parents decided on a winter wedding in Spain, it'll be at the beginning of Carlos's winter break, you left everything for the Sainzs to plan with the help of your family, the only thing you refused is them choosing your wedding dress, or even seeing it. You've been to so many wedding dresses shops, which ever country you find yourself in you'd go to the shops. You've tried on so many dresses in so many styles. Trying to find the perfect one for you.

It took time but you did find the one, standing in front of the mirror alone. You felt it. You may have not given much thought to your wedding before you knew about the arrangement but this is your dream dress. It was just perfect. Everything you wanted and more. It needed little alterations, you just need to do a couple fittings, which you will fly to do before it'll be delivered to Carlos's house in Spain.

Things with Carlos have remained the same, you didn't spend a lot of time alone, which may be in part to you always dragging someone with you, even Lando has accompanied you both on a couple occasions, the Briton has warmed up to you and was one of the few invited to the wedding. You always trash talk your parents with Lando, Carlos always looking disappointed at the two of you whenever you did that, but you did it anyways.

It all went by too fast, it was the day of your wedding, despite the winter air, the sun was out it was a little warmer than most of Europe. You tried on your dress a couple of weeks back at Carlos's house and from the gasps his sisters and Lisa had done, he almost barged in to see the dress for himself. It did take a lot for him to not go into the guest bedroom where you kept it for him to see. He told himself he'll see it soon enough.

And soon became very soon, when he stood in his tux at the end of the alter, no groomsmen, no bridesmaids. A choice you fought your mum on, but in the end you had what you wanted. You had no one but Lisa, and even if Carlos had many friends he could choose form, he respected every decision you made and choose for the wedding.

The music started playing and everyone turned to look and there you were, an angle, lights coming from behind you illuminating you. Oh how beautiful you looked, with a simple make-up look, hair up in a beautiful updo, minimal jewelry all to accentuate the beauty of your dress. The lace, the vale, how the dress hugged your figure, it was all perfect. Soft gasps sounded around the hall as you became in full view.

A soft but timid smile on your face, your hand clutching your dad's as he led you down the aisle, it was all happening now, there's no going back. This is it. You saw Carlos and he looked amazing in his tux, his hair pushed back but not jelled, he definitely refused any products be put in his hair. He looked handsome, his eyes were on you the whole walk and even after you were standing in front of him, he still didn't stray his gaze from you. You're all he can see.

The ceremony goes by, and your smile falters when you have to say I do. You looked up at Carlos with tear filled eyes, as he leaned in and pecked your lips, it only lasted a couple seconds, as everyone clapped and cheered, well almost everyone. Both your friends that knew how you both didn't want to, only clapped halfheartedly.

Carlos pulled you in for a hug, you returned it closing your eyes to keep the tears at bay.

"I promise I'll be good to you, and I'll be loyal." Carlos whispered in your ear and you clutched his suit harder. "I know how hard this is for you, and I'll try to be a good husband to be everything you ever wished for, I don't want you to feel stuck and unhappy."

"Thank you, I promise I'll do the same, we're in this together." You were grateful for his words, he's said it in a way that made you feel heard and felt, something that your family failed to make you feel.

The reception was wild, if you say so yourself, you changed into another dress with no train and easier to move around in. You had a first dance with Carlos, you were surprised with how good he is at dancing.

"Didn't know you could dance so well." You told him after he twirled you around and then pulled you back in.

"I'm a smooth operator after all." You giggle at his words and that makes him smile, he's succeeded in getting a smile out of you that was genuine. Lando and Lisa were watching the two of you from their table.

"You know, this may have all been a bad agreement, but I think they'll be alright." Lando told Lisa and she hummed looking at you both.

"Yeah, I think so, bad beginning but good ending." She only hoped. "You know what I think?"

"What?" Lando looked away form his friend and his new wife, and at Lisa.

"I think if the parents hadn't arranged this whole thing, they would've been dating for a long time and that they would've ended together anyways." Lisa observed and Lando thought about it for a moment, before he too agreed with her. If only they did nothing.

The celebration went through the night, a lot of dancing and drinking happening all around. Too much had happened but it didn't seem that long before you and Carlos got in the back of a car heading for his house where you'd be spending the night before heading to your honeymoon. You were so tired from the day and you haven't been sleeping well the days leading up to the wedding.

"You look tired." Carlos said in the nicest tone ever, you turn your head over the headrest not even wanting to left your own head, and look at him with the most tired smile he has ever seen.

"Yeah, I haven't been sleeping well, and the day has been so long." You tell him and he agrees with you.

Once you're at the house you open the door and there's Carlos already on your side with his hand out to help you out of the car. You walk into his house and kick your heels off sighing at the feeling, finally having them flat on the ground.

"You wear heels way too much." Carlos says seeing how relieved you look with them off.

"Excuse me, Mr. 178 cm, but not all of us are blessed with height." You say and take the glass of water

Carlos had for you. "Thank you."

"No worries." You both stand there in the kitchen for a couple minutes. "I think we should head to bed, we're leaving in a few hours."

"Yeah, good idea."

You went to the guest bedroom, where you had your clothes and everything set up. A suite case set to the side for the honeymoon.

Now you were zipped in your dress by Lisa, what you didn't take in mind is how hard it is to unzip it yourself. Try as you can, you couldn't unzip the first part. It took you 15 minutes to finally decide to go and ask Carlos for help. You stand in front of his bedroom door and debate knowing before you do it, you can't sleep in your dress and you're in a desperate need of a shower. You don't wait long before the door is opened and a naked Carlos with a towel wrapped around his lower half meets your eyes. Your eyes trail over his still wet torso all the way to his face where water drops from his hair.

"Is everything okay, hermosa?" Carlos asks feeling happy with your eyes on him.

"Uh-wh-yeah, yes." You manage together yourself to ask. "I can't unzip my uh, my dress, I need help."

"Just give me a second to wear some pants." Carlos gets into his closet and closes that door, you walk in

a little and look at yourself in the full length mirror he has in his room, your makeup has lasted the whole day, but you can start to see the dark circles under them, you can't help but take in your look, your hair no longer in an updo, it's loose around your head.

Carlos opens the door and comes out in a pair of shorts, you glance at him through the mirror and he walks right up behind you. He gently moves your hair to the side over your shoulder, you're playing with your fingers a little, as the tension rose in the room. As delicate as he could, Carlos took a hold of the small zipper and pulled down. You held your breath as you watched his focused face, he was looking at your skin as more of it came in view, drinking you in. After he's done, his hands fall by his side and he meets your eyes in the mirror.

"All done." He breathed out, you nod and say a timid thank you before you leave the room, his eyes not leaving your back. Closing the door behind you, you lean on it for a second breathing in. Before you head back to your room.

You manage to get a few hours of sleep, before you have to get up to get ready to head to the airport.

Your dad gave you a jet as a wedding present, something you rolled your eyes at when he did, but you're thankful for now, the privacy is something you're grateful for. You're dressed in a white sweat set with the hood up covering your hair and part of your face, no make-up on and nothing done to your hair.

You made small talk with Carlos during the plane, talking about your wedding and how stupid some people were, the dresses some women wore and just gossiping. There was something so domestic about it, you and Carlos interact like any friends would... mostly. Because for you, you've come to enjoy his company, you've come to look for him in a crowed. He gives you the best hugs, and he's always so attentive to your wants and needs before you even verbalise them. In the few months you've gotten to know each other he's understood you in a way no one else did.

Arriving in the Bali, there’s a car waiting for you at the airport, the pick up and drop off were good. Carlos was the one responsible for booking the honeymoon, so besides the destination you have no idea what you will be doing. The resort has a few cabins out on the water, and that’s what Carlos booked for the two of you. He quickly handles check in and gets the keys, before you’re lead to the cabin with someone brining the bags for you.

Carlos opens the door, you see the water out the windows, the cabin is in the middle of the clear water, and there are windows all around the back. It looked like you’d be sleeping in the middle of the sea. You walk straight to the back opening the floor to ceiling glass door to the terrace.

“This looks amazing.” You tell Carlos and a gust of wind comes over you and you smile.

“I’m glad you like it.” It was hard for Carlos to choose a destination, his mum insisted that you two go on a honeymoon, she said it’ll do you some good, you wouldn’t be able to escape from each other so you’ll get to know the other person well. She said it’ll be a good start to the marriage. “There’s only one problem.”

”What?” You ask and turn to look at Carlos and see where he’s looking. “Oh.” There’s one bed. ”It’s alright I guess, we’re not strangers.” You weren’t confident in your words but there’s nothing you can do now.

”I guess, I don’t have anything planned for today.” Carlos tells you and takes a broader look at the cabin. “Thought we might be tired, we can go explore or get into the water.”

”Exploring sounds fun, we can get in the water early tomorrow or something.”

You both change from the airport clothes, into something you’d be comfortable to walk in, so no heels for you.

The island sounded and looked so peaceful, you really commend Carlos on his choice. Your phone was out as you snapped pictures of the lovely scenes, the animals moving in the trees once you reached the forested area of the island you’re in. You managed to find a small restaurant to have a late lunch in.

”When do you have to start dieting and working out for the next season?” You asked Carlos curiously.

”I keep training through the break, but it gets intense two weeks or so before the season starts.” Carlos says and you nod, taking a bite of your food.

”That’s good, what do you have planned for the next four days?” You ask curious.

”We’re going snorkelling tomorrow, and we can go for a swim in some waterfalls.” Carlos starts listing the things he’s planned out for you both to do. “The next day we can go surfing and diving, third day we can go nicking and there’s a hot air balloon we can take, the fourth day we can cycle through the rice fields and around the island, and there’s a lot of clubs we can go to any day once it’s dark.”

”Sounds like fun.” You say and close your eyes relaxing for a moment.

After lunch you and Carlos continue on your little exploration trip before you decide to head back to the cabin. Carlos calls dibs on showering first, so you face the plant on the bed and before you realise it you’re asleep.

Carlos comes out of the bathroom and chuckles once he sees the state you’re in, you’re laying across the bed, your feet in the air, you look so out of it. Carlos looks for an extra blanket and sets it aside, before he moves to the bed and contemplates how to move you without waking you up. He didn’t have to worry though, you were so tired you didn’t feel him moving you so you’d be lying on the bed right, with your head on the pillow before he threw the blanket on top of you.

It takes you around an hour before you wake up, it takes you a second to realise where you are, sitting up you see the last rays of the sun in the distance, and Carlos sitting on the terrace with his legs hanging down touching the water. His back facing you. You get up and make your way to him. You sit beside him and give him a sleepy smile.

”Why didn’t you wake me?” You ask him taking the breathtaking view in front of you.

”It looked like you needed all the sleep you could get.” Carlos hummed, you sat there in silence, both not knowing what to say. “You want to shower before we head out for dinner?”

”Yeah, I’ll go now.”

Dinner had been a delightful yet slightly awkward affair. The resort's open-air restaurant overlooked the ocean, offering a stunning view that momentarily distracted them from their nerves. They had chosen a table near the edge, where they could watch the waves crash against the shore. The food was good and they both had a few glasses of alcohol. The walk back was peaceful with the night air, the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing.

You and Carlos stood in the doorway to the cabin. The sound of the ocean created a soothing background melody. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. you glanced at Carlos, who seemed just as hesitant as she felt. You had been through a whirlwind of events that led you here, to your honeymoon in Bali, sharing a bed for the first time.

“Well, I guess this is it,” You said, your voice tinged with nervousness. “Our first night here.”

Carlos looked at you, then at the bed that dominated the centre of the room.

“Yeah, it is. Bali is beautiful, isn’t it?” You allowed yourself a small smile.

“It really is. I’ve always wanted to come here.”

“Same here,” Carlos replied, trying to ease the tension. “I never thought it would be on a honeymoon, though.”

You laughed softly, a sound that made Carlos’s heart feel lighter.

“Yeah, life has a way of surprising us.” Carlos glanced at the bed again, then back at you.

“So, um, the bed. It’s... big enough, right?”

You blushed slightly, your cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. “Yeah, it looks comfortable. I guess we can... just stay on our own sides?”

“Sure, that sounds good.” Carlos nodded. “I mean, unless you’d want to have it and I can sleep on the floor, I don’t mind.”

”No, no, we’re adults, we can share a bed.” You say shaking your head no. “Can’t let the Formula 1 driver have back pain.”

”A few nights wouldn't hurt me.” You give Carlos a look and he laughs. “But I’ll happily sleep on the bed.”

“So much has happened in the last few months.” You say and sit on the edge of the bed, despite telling him it’s okay to sleep in the same bed, you still feel awkward about it. “We’ve come a long way in these few months.”

“Yeah, we have.” Carlos joined you, sitting down next to you on the bed. “I’ve enjoyed our conversations and... your company.”

“Me too.” You smile, a genuine warmth in your eyes. “You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be.”

“High praise!” Carlos laughed, a sound that made you feel more at ease, as he’s grown to make you feel lately. Peaceful. Comfortable. “Seriously, though, I think we’ve done well considering the circumstances.”

Emma looked at him, her expression softening. “Carlos, do you... ever think about what it would be like if we had met differently?”

“Sometimes.” It takes Carlos a moment to answer as he thinks about it. “I think we would have been good friends regardless. Maybe even more, given time.”

“Maybe,” You said softly, also thinking that if you were given the option and the freedom things may have turned the same in the end.

Carlos sighed, breaking the brief silence that had settled between them.

“Well, we’re here now. Might as well make the best of it. Do you need anything before we turn in?”

“No, I’m good. Just... a bit nervous.” You shook you head.

“Me too,” Carlos admitted, his voice gentle. “But hey, it’s just a few nights. We’ll figure it out together.”

You smiled, a feeling of comfort washing over her. “Together. That sounds nice.”

Carlos stood up and walked to his side of the bed. “Goodnight, Hermosa.”

“Goodnight, Carlos,” You replied, getting under the covers. You both lay down, the silence filled with the rhythmic sound of the waves. After a few moments, Yout voice broke the quiet.

“Carlos?”

“Yeah?” Carlos turned to face her, his eyes soft in the dim light.

“Thanks for being understanding. It means a lot,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper, it was something you had to say, you had to put out.

Carlos smiled, a reassuring warmth in his gaze. “Anytime, y/n. We’re in this together, remember?”

You relaxed, the tension easing from your body. “Right. Together.”

You both lay quietly, gradually relaxing into the comfort of the bed and each other's presence. The initial awkwardness began to fade, as the sense of connection they’ve built over the last few months replaced it.

And so the honeymoon came and went. Each day you’d be out all day doing what Carlos had planned for the two of you before you go to the beach, a club, but you’d just fill the day with activities. When it came to the bed situation, besides the first day there was no awkwardness. Maybe it was the tiredness but you’ve found it so much easier to sleep next to Carlos every day. And every day you’d wake up a bit closer, finding comfort in his presence.

The first rays of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains of their bungalow, casting a soft, golden light across the room. The gentle sound of the ocean waves provided a calming backdrop, as if nature itself were cradling them in a tranquil embrace.

You stirred first, your consciousness slowly pulling you from the depths of a peaceful sleep. As your eyes fluttered open, you became aware of a warmth pressed against your back. It took you a moment to realise that Carlos’ arm was draped over your waist, their bodies nestled closely together. Your initial reaction was a mix of surprise and confusion, quickly followed by a strange sense of comfort.

You lay still, your mind racing. Over the past few days, sharing a bed has gradually become less awkward. You had grown accustomed to each other's presence, finding solace in your nightly routine. But this was different—intimate in a way that left your heart fluttering.

You turned your head slightly, careful not to wake Carlos. You could feel his steady breath against the back of your neck, his presence reassuring and oddly soothing. For a moment, you allowed herself to relax into his embrace, savouring the unexpected closeness.

Carlos began to stir, his grip on your waist tightening momentarily before his eyes opened. Realising the position you’re in, he blinked in surprise but didn’t pull away. Instead, he hesitated, unsure of how to proceed.

“Good morning,” You whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Good morning,” Carlos replied, his voice still heavy with sleep. He moved slightly, his arm shifting but not withdrawing. “I, uh, didn’t mean to...”

You turn to face him, a shy smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay.”

Carlos’s expression softened, relief washing over him. You lay there for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell of the morning. The initial awkwardness gave way to a quiet understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the growing bond between you.

“I guess we’ve gotten used to each other,” You said, your tone light but tinged with something deeper.

Carlos nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “I think so.”

Carlos’s hand moved to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. “So, what do you want to do before we have to leave?”

“How about we start with breakfast?”

“Sounds perfect,” Carlos said, smiling.

When your bags were packed and ready by the door, you decided to take one last walk on the beach. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over everything. You walked in comfortable silence, your hands brushing occasionally, sending sparks of awareness through both of you. When you both found a good spot you stopped and turned to look at the ocean.

“I have to thank you Carlos.” You said softly and looked at him over your shoulder, he looked confused. “This …trip has been different than I expected.”

“Yeah, different.” Carlos nodded, his expression tinged with worry. “But in a good way, right?.”

You turned to look at him fully and he does the same. “Of course.”

There was a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation. You were close, closer than you had ever been, conscious that is. Carlos reached out, his hand brushing against yours. Your faces were inches apart, your breaths mingling in the space between you. Carlos’s eyes flicked to your lips, and he leaned in, his heart pounding.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your pulse racing. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the electricity of the moment. It was as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you, the beach, and the waves.

Just as your lips were about to meet, the sudden sound of a ringing phone shattered the silence. You both jerked back, startled, and Carlos fumbled to answer his phone. It was the resort’s reception, calling to remind them of their checkout time.

Once Carlos told you, you couldn’t help but laugh, the tension breaking. You head back in silence. The moment had passed, but something had shifted between you. There was an unspoken understanding, a promise of something more, maybe not now, or soon, but one day.

Once you were back in Spain, you had gotten busy. You were still technically in the middle of moving, you had to fly a few times back and forth to finish getting whatever you needed and getting rid of everything else. You’re officially an online student, with just a few mandatory classes once or twice a term that you have to go in for. Lisa was crying on the last trip, but knowing the two of you, you’d just fly to see her or she’ll fly to see you. Besides since her and Lando started dating it means that if all goes well, you’d be seeing more of her in the paddock.

Your mum decided that she hasn’t heard form you enough so she flies to Spain and comes to your house one random day, Carlos is out golfing with Lando who he invited over for the week, the McLaren driver was staying with the two of you. You planned to use the time to catch up on some unpacking you still have to do, it’s taking you longer than you expected. And you still have to work with Carlos’s things as well. And you just began, since Carlos and Lando didn’t leave until recently before the doorbell rang.

You opened the door to find your mother standing there, her expression as critical as ever.

“Hi, Mom.” You said, forcing a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Y/n.” Your mother greeted, ignoring your question, she stepped inside and immediately surveyed the house. “Where are Carlos and Lando? I hope you’ve been taking care of them.”

“They’re out golfing, Mom.” Your smile falters, before it falls. ”I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me you were coming?” You ask her again as you watch her look around the house, no doubt looking for something to critique you over.

”You wouldn't have answered.” She tries to excuse herself, you frown.

”I always reply to your messages.” You feel exasperated already, and she’s been here for all of 10 minutes.

”What are you cooking today?” Your eyebrows raise at the question, it takes you a moment to answer.

”Nothing? Carlos is cooking for us tonight.” You tell her and turn to leave her to inspect the kitchen.

“And does Carlos usually cook?” You have no idea where she’s going with those questions so you answer her honestly.

”Well, out of the two of us he cooks more, but don’t worry I always help.” You blob down on the sofa.

“Why is it so messy here?” She asks, coming to the living room, looking over the few boxes still set to the side waiting to be unpacked, the blankets you have sat in the living room used by you three yesterday as you watched a movie after a long day yesterday.

“The house isn’t messy. I’ve just been busy, and I haven’t finished unpacking.”

“Busy? What about cooking and cleaning?” Your mum’s eyes narrowed. “A good wife takes care of her home and her husband’s friends. It’s your responsibility, y/n.”

“Mom, it’s not the 1950s.” You felt your frustration rising. “Carlos and I share responsibilities. He’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and Lando is our guest, not my responsibility.”

“y/n y/l/n! I don’t know where I went wrong with you, I did not raise you to be this kind of wife!” Your mum scoffed, shaking her head. You look up at her startled, where the heck did this come from. “A wife should always put her husband first. Look at this place! And you didn’t even cook anything for them? Carlos is working so hard year around, the least you could is cook him meals and take care of him, what man would like a woman that doesn’t take care of him and his friends.”

“I don’t need to cook for them every day, Mom. Carlos and I are a team. We support each other.” You clenched your fists, trying to keep your composure. “And they're grown adults as well, they’ve lived alone for years.”

Your mother ignored you, continuing to inspect the house and muttering under her breath about your lack of domestic skills. The barrage of criticism was relentless, each comment cutting deeper. You tried to defend yourself, but the words stuck in your throat, overwhelmed by your mother’s disapproval.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “I need some air,” you said abruptly, storming to your room. You quickly changed into a golf skirt and a polo shirt, grabbed your clubs(a gift from Carlos, that you have yet to use), and headed out the door.

Your mother’s voice followed you, laden with disappointment. “Running away doesn’t solve anything, y/n!”

“It’s y/n Sainz by the way! We don’t share the last name anymore.” Was all you said ignoring the sting of her words, You drove to the golf course.

You found Carlos and Lando on the ninth hole, chatting and laughing as they waited their turn. The sight of their relaxed camaraderie only fueled your frustration. Carlos noticed you approaching, surprise evident on his face.

“y/n? What are you doing here?”

You didn’t answer right away, instead setting up your club and taking a swing at the ball. It flew farther than you expected, the physical exertion providing a small relief to your pent-up anger. Lando raised an eyebrow but wisely kept quiet. Carlos walked over to her, concern in his eyes.

“y/n, what happened?”

“My mom happened.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady your vice. “She came over and started berating me for not taking care of the house and you two. Said a lot of misogynistic things. I couldn’t deal with it, so I came here.”

Carlos exchanged a glance with Lando, who nodded in understanding and took a few steps back to give you some privacy. “y/n, I’m sorry. She had no right to say those things.”

“I know that, Carlos.” You felt your frustration bubbling over. “But it’s just so exhausting. I feel like I’m constantly trying to prove myself, and nothing I do is ever good enough for her.”

Carlos stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “

You don’t have to prove anything to her. You’re amazing just the way you are. We’re a team, remember?”

“I just needed to get out and clear my head.” You nod, leaning into his embrace. “Thanks for letting me crash your golf game.”

“Anytime.” Carlos smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Why don’t you join us? Maybe hitting a few more balls will help.”

“Yeah, y/n. Show us what you’ve got.” Lando, who had been listening from a respectful distance, chimed in.

You manage a small smile, appreciating their support. You took another swing, feeling a little lighter with each hit. The repetitive motion and the open air helped to calm your nerves. As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the course, you felt the weight of your mother’s words slowly lifting.

After a few more swings and a lot of supportive banter from Carlos and Lando, you began to feel more like yourself. You knew the challenges with your mother wouldn’t disappear overnight, but having Carlos by your side made it easier to face them.

As you finished the game and headed back to the clubhouse, CArlos took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ll figure this out, y/n. Together.”

“I know we will. Thanks for being my rock.” You looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection.

“Always.” Carlos smiled, his eyes full of warmth.

As you walked back to the car, the events of the day began to fade into the background, replaced by a sense of peace and solidarity. You knew that with Carlos by your side, you could handle whatever challenges came your way. And maybe, just maybe, one day you would find a way to make your mother understand.

The new Formula 1 season begins, and it’s a good start for Ferrari, they’ve been doing good. The testing and the first race already over and a big improvement from last year is already noticed. By the time Saudi Arabia came around, no one had noticed or pointed out the new ring on Carlos’s finger. Or yours for that matter. Your marriage, although not a secret, wasn't announced.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” You ask Carlos, he’s been in pain the last couple of days, he had a fever and wasn’t looking too good.

”Yes, don’t worry.” Carlos was trying to calm your nerves but it wasn’t helping in this situation.

“FP1 has already been hard, Carlos, I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard!” You say and follow him out of his driver’s room and to the garage, a worried look on your face for everyone to see.

”I won't, I promise.” You stop at where you can’t go any further and Carlos turns to look at you, his balaclava in his hands. You look so cute worried for him, eyes wide and sat expression on your face, lips turned down slightly and pouting. “Please, amour I promise I’ll be fine.”

You don’t get to realise how he called you amour for the first time, before his lips are pressed to yours in a quick kiss and he’s turned and heading to get his helmet on. You just blink and look at him, but he doesn’t look your way in the slightest.

“What just happened?” You whisper to yourself.

“I believe your husband just kissed you.” Carlos sr., who came out of nowhere said in your ear. You spare him a look and just turn and go to the nearest bathroom, having to splash some water on your face to calm the heat down.

You manage to compose yourself for the rest of Free Practice, as you watch Carlos put in the times, listening to his team radio, you could tell he was getting a bit tired. But they were looking at his vitals and they seemed okay, he wasn’t called in either so that calmed you a little. After the practice however, you saw him come out of the car, and he looked as if he was struggling a little.

He takes off his helmet and balaclava and his face is flushed red, Free Practices are hard, but they’re not as hard as a race is, so why is his face flushed more than normal.

“He’s fine, don’t worry.” Carlos sr. tells you and you aren’t convinced, he doesn’t sound like he’s convinced.

There was nothing you could do, but walk around as Carlos had to head in for debrief. You skipped lunch in favour of staying with Carlos earlier today, so you decided to grab a bite before you head back to the Ferrari garage.

Your phone rings a while later, seeing Carlos sr.’s name on your screen you pick up.

”Hey, I’m just-“

”It was bad, we’re taking Carlos to the hospital.” He cuts you off rushing.

“What? What happened? Just tell me which hospital!” You leave your half eaten food and rush back to Ferrari, where someone on Carlos’s team was waiting to take you to the hospital. Your knee was bouncing up and down in worry, you couldn’t get there fast enough.

By the time you go there, Carlos is already in for surgery. Carlos sr. pulls you in for a hug as you tear up. “He’s okay, a minor surgery, it’s his appendicitis.”

”I told him something was wrong, but he didn't listen.” You cry as worry eats you up, you’ve just come to realise how much Carlos actually means to you. He’s become such an important part of your life and you didn’t even realise it. Hearing that he was taken to the hospital, made your mind race with possibilities you don't want to think about.

”I didn’t know you cared so much about my son.” Carlos says after you’ve calmed down, you’re both sitting down waiting for the surgery to end.

“I didn’t either.” You say and sigh, Carlos sr. pats your knee in comfort.

Once the surgery ends and the doctors come out, they tell you that everything went smoothly and it won’t take long for Carlos to wake up, and he was moved to another floor. Both you and Senior along with Carlos’s trainer.

“I’m sorry, but for the next hour or so, only family members are allowed.” A nurse stops you three from walking into Carlos’s room. Both you and Carlos’s dad move to enter before you’re stopped again, she gives you a pointed look.

”I’m family.” You tell her, but she doesn’t budge.

”She’s family.”

”I’m sorry, but dating or even engagement doesn’t count.” You scoff and get your passport out, all your papers have been changed after the wedding.

”I’m y/n Sainz, that man inside is my husband, now step aside.” She stands there shocked before she lets you pass. Carlos sr. laughs and follows you inside.

“Hey, Mrs Sainz.” Once more Carlos leaves your heart beating faster than it should, with your face red. He clearly heard what happened outside, and he’s clearly heavy on pain meds.

“You’re an asshole, Carlos Sainz.” You mutter and sit down at the chair next to his bed, apparently you’re super funny, because he laughs as if you said the funniest joke ever. “I don’t get your son sometimes.”

”Me neither.”

It takes a few hours for Carlos to be completely coherent, they’ll keep him overnight to make sure he’s alright before he can leave. With only one person that can stay the night and Carlos Sr. needing to stay next to his only son, you let him stay and head back to the hotel with Carlos’s trainer, with the promise of being back early the next day.

Sleeping in the bed alone feels weird now, after the honeymoon you’ve gone back to sleeping alone, and you’ve missed having Carlos next to you. But since you’ve started trailing again, you’ve shared the same bed. How weird it is for you to miss his presence so much after so little time.

After a sleepless night you get Carlos a change of clothes before you head to the hotel. When you walk into his room, he’s alone.

”Where’s your dad?” You ask him, placing the bag on the chair.

”Went to get some coffee.” You nod at his words, you stand there for a moment and Carlos pats the side to the bed, you sit next to him and sigh.

”You really scared me, Carlos.” Your voice lowered, tinged with sadness.

“I’m so sorry, mi amor.” Your eyes trail up until you meet his eyes, Carlos takes your hand in his. “I thought it was just food poisoning.”

“What are you doing to me?” You ask him your voice filled with emotion, your eyes filled with tears, as all the frustrations, the worry and the love you have for him is just too much for you to handle.

”Wh-what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Carlos sits up slowly, and he’s so close to you, just like he was on that day on the beach.

“You know you kissed me, right?” WAs it the fever, did he not mean it.

”Yea, I’m sorry, if this is why you’re crying I’ll never kiss you aga-“

”No!” You almost shout startling the man in front of you, tears leaver your eyes and you close them for a moment.

”No?” His accent is thick and it leaves you shivering.

”I want you to kiss me.” You open your eyes lips trembling and your eyes meet his. “Don’t you understand? I don’t know when, or how. Carlos sleeping without yesterday kept me up all night. I've become so used to you, I’ve become so attached to you without even realising it. Carlos I love you and I’m scared that you don’t love me, that you don’t feel the same. That thought terrifies me.”

Carlos sits in silence and you think that maybe he was just being nice, he didn’t mean it. It was definitely the fever. You go to stand up, but his hand that still held yours stop you. You look from your hands to his face once more.

”If I had known this is how you felt, mi amor, I would’ve kissed you sooner, would’ve slept next to you every night.” Carlos’s voice is soft, it’s so soft and loving. “I would’ve wished to get sick sooner.”

”Don’t say that!” You punch his shoulder so softly he couldn’t help but smile, Carlos lets go of your hand, only to cup your face in his hands.

”I love you so much y/n Sainz, and I’m so glad that fate brought us together.” Carlos leans closer, his words whispered on your lips. “You’ve made me so much happier than I thought possible.”

With that Carlos closes the distance between your lips, your eyes flutter shut. As you finally feel his lips on yours, electricity runs through your body. Once Carlos got a taste of your lips, he wanted more, he needed more.

“Carlos-“

You both pull apart and look at the door where Carlos Sr. stood with a grin on his face, looking amused.

”You can leave it to the hotel room, this is a hospital.” He’s joking, but no one else was laughing. Your face was so red and you were so embarrassed by being caught kissing… your husband? Why are you embarrassed? He’s your husband. The thought makes you smile to yourself as you go through the bag and show Carlos what you got for him.

Walking in the paddock the next day wasn’t on your agenda, you did try to convince your husband to just rest but he just wouldn't listen. You walk in hand in hand, and it seemed like the nurse at the hospital let it slip to everyone as it seemed like the news of your marriage was laced with the news of the surgery and all over social media. Carlos the cheeky bastard used his left hand for everything that didn’t require the usage of his right hand, showing everyone his wedding band. You had a Carlos Sainz hat on your head, finally with his number and everything.

”Looks like the news is out, Mr and Mrs Sainz.” Lando says once he came over to check on Carlos.

”Looks like it.” Carlos says and pulls you closer to his side, you look up at him and smile.

”I feel like I owe Lisa some money.” Your head snaps to Lando’s.

”You bet on us?”

“Of course.”

“How much?”

”I can’t tell you that?”

”Lando, how much?”

”I promised Lisa I wouldn't say.”

”She’s my friend.”

”Well, she’s my girlfriend.”

”You’re stealing her from me!”

”You stole my friend first!”

”Is this payback?”

”Are you sure they’re on good terms?” Carlos Sr, asked his son seeing how his daughter in law is bickering with the McLaren driver.

”I promise you they do.”

Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life

[notglue-9]

About My AU

This is about how 8 souls in Minecraft afterlife,try to live in peace and harmony.

Random facts about world/lore:

• You can’t stay at night for long as your own nightmares and fears will begin to haunt you.

• Catnap has had corruption three times. And each time it gets worse and more painful.

• on a full moon in Cartoon world, Catnap will turn into that same creepy version of himself from his past life.

• Bobby: mother/big sister figure

Bubba: Big bro/Father figure

Kickin: best Bro/best friend

Hoppy: best sister/best friend

Crafty: comfort shy bestie

Picky: the same kind aunt who will feed and take care of you/sibling figure

• Catnap lives with Bobby or Bubba.

The guys built houses for each other while they were in the afterlife. And they built a House for Dogday in advance.

• It hurts Catnap to show other emotions with his mouth, so he always smiles. But in the animation "Overnight" he was so upset that he didn't care about the pain and to show his sadness to Dogday he erased his smile

About Medallions

medallions are their souls.

Catnap collects the negative emotions of other critters. This makes his medallion increase. Although he helps others, it’s worse for him if he collects a lot of negativity within himself. He's in pain and reaaally Sick.💀

Each critter has their own cracks in their medallions. They show their emotional state.

Why is Catnap's medallion different?

it’s just that Catnap is punished for what he did in a past life. He pays back by helping and providing therapy to others there will be a rollback from negativity only if someone helps him. But no one will help him yet. The worse the Catnap medallion stage, the more his voice disappears, his beautiful lullaby voice becomes either mute or creepy.

The reason why Catnap is still cursed with this "therapy" ability. He feels guilty for all his mistakes. And it haunts him. His guilt hits harder than other negative emotions of smiling critters.

Sometimes a big red cloud hangs over him in the shape of his past life. And until he forgives himself and does not help others. He will be forever cursed and suffer

Cracked or Cursed Medallions symptoms

When Catnap is too overwhelmed with negativity. He coughs up Red Smoke.

But it doesn’t affect the others in any way. Although other critters are scared by this smoke. Especially Dogday.

Broken medallions.

These are souls that have not found peace, traumatized, broken. They feel bad mentally.

About ARCS.

Arc 0. - Catnap's Therapy. Pilot lmao

Arc 1. - Eclipse, nightmares and dreams,"I'm sorry"

Arc 2.- Corruption,Hey Dogday,,the groundhog Day,comics about other Critters

Arc 3- (Red crescent arc) - Your face,Camping, Theatre, others in future

Arc 4.- After prank, overnight,Moon's everyday Life.

Arc 1- Everyone hates Catnap. They shun him. Beat him,kick him. Bobby was the first to befriend him.

Arc. 2.Catnap helps them cope with their traumas that have begun to appear and interfere with their lives.

Arc 3.They are all more or less well. Some notice Catnap's strange behavior. Dogday has a hard time accepting Catnap. He already wanted to more or less make the relationship better. But the Red Moon appeared.

Their voices ,Their speaking style

Dogday: The deep voice of a veteran who went through a 100-year war. But sometimes it changes to squeaky if it experiences strong emotions. He remained expressive, but his face is always angry as if it would bite you.

Catnap: Actually he was mute. But he was given a voice in the afterlife. He still can't get used to it. His voice is very gentle, cold and pleasant to the ear, like the Cradle. His voice is also designed for singing.

Bobby: Calming tone, tactile when communicating. Sometimes she makes beautiful speeches. And very chatty. Loves to gossip.

Bubba: Monotonous and calculating Voice. He speaks briefly and clearly. And doesn't gesture at all and he is very passive.

Kickin: He deliberately makes his voice tone rougher to seem cool. He comes up with different slangs and often makes funny gestures. But when he's scared, his voice becomes very squeaky and he chirps like a Chicken.

Hoppy: She has a loud and confident voice, like a fitness club trainer. She will never tire of shouting motivational words at you. She often jumps and runs around you. She doesn't sit still while she chats with you.

Crafty: A gentle and sweet voice, like a princess. She is often distracted and has Daydreaming Syndrome.

Loves fairy tales and everything that is not from reality. She can debate her point of view about creativity

Picky: She has a very fun and playful voice. But sometimes you don’t understand whether she’s happy or ready to roast you in a fire.

A truly charming farmer and chef. Loves the Western theme.

[nackrosor]

~Your Wish~

(pt.1/3)

PART 2 - PART 3

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: smut, voyeurism, masturbation (nothing explicit), not much happening tbh, it's more of a teasing for what might come next... (i'm thinking somnophilia, dub/con, eventual consensual sex but we'll see...) words count: 1,1k. a.n: this is just a lil' something to keep the writing block away and to get used to writing less but posting more. Also, for once I focused on the character's - in this case Brahms's - feelings/thoughts instead of the reader's, so there's that. Enjoy!

The boy watched you as you placed Brahms in its bed with the care of a mother. You've been looking after the doll for weeks now, treating it with such gentleness; he noticed it and it made him happy, proud of you. He liked you even more because of it. 

He's been watching you the entire time, peeking through the slits and gaps between the walls. Every time your hands held the doll's small form tight to your chest or each time your lips brushed its ceramic face for a goodnight kiss, he wished it was him instead of his fake counterpart. He wished to be touched like that, to be cared for like that… By you.

Despite his ardent and ever-growing fondness for you, he stayed back, hidden behind the walls, only coming out when you were outside in the garden or asleep in your bed. He was afraid you'd be scared to see him, scared of him. That you would run away, leave him alone… He would not be able to bear it. No. You were his. His y/n. 

He'd stay hidden for you, content to watch you and admire you from a distance… fantasising about your touch, your warmth, your lips... 

You leaned down and gave the doll the mandatory goodnight kiss, drawing Brahms's attention back to you. A soft groan left his lips at the sight. Everything you did aroused him. It was an instant reaction. Even at that moment, he could already feel himself growing… 

"You know, Brahms?” 

His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. He eagerly leaned in against the wooden panel in the hope of hearing you better. 

“Sometimes I wish you were a real boy so that we would keep each other company in this big, scary house." 

You admitted with a little smile on your lips as you caressed the cold doll's face, and he almost lost it. He would have punched through the wall and wrapped his arms tight around you, right there and there, if only he could. Would you have accepted him? Without reservations? He had just heard you say you wished he was real… Would you have been happy to see him? To see that he was, in fact, very much real and just as desirous to keep you company.

The melodious sound of your chuckle drew his attention back to you, and he saw you shaking your head in amusement before you tucked the doll in and retreated towards the door to leave the room. 

Brahms ran after you without even a second thought, rushing through the maze behind the walls to follow your path.

You made it to your bedroom and started undressing yourself to get ready for bed. His breath caught in his throat; the sight of your bare body always made him twitch in need. Oh, how he would love to strip you out of your clothes at least once... His probing eyes raked over your curves, his breathing becoming ragged, while you slipped into your nightgown and crawled into your bed with a tired sigh. 

The light went out, and he hissed. It was difficult to watch you with the entire room enveloped in pitch-blackness, but at least he could make out your faint silhouette since that night the moon shone high in the sky, its kind rays gently illuminating your soft curves through the dark drapes.

He kept watching you for a while, making sure you fell asleep, making sure you were alright. 

As he was turning around to crawl back to his place and take care of himself, he heard a soft, muffled sound coming from your room. He immediately moved back to the hole to peek inside. 

You were stirring under the sheets. Were you having a bad dream? Or perhaps you couldn't fall asleep? 

He leaned in further, squinting through the gap in an attempt to see you better. More weak noises came out of you, causing him to frown in confusion. It didn't sound like you were in pain… But your breath came out in short gasps, as if you were having trouble with something.

Brahms felt his muscles tense up, his whole body urging him to follow his instincts and barge into the room to help you. 

“Ohh, f-fuck…f-fuck…”

The sound of your voice made him freeze on the spot, his eyes growing wide. He watched as your legs spread apart under the sheets and your body arched up slightly. He could see it clearly now; your arm hidden beneath the sheets, resting right between your thighs. 

It took all of his strength to hold back the deep grunt that was about to spill out of his mouth when he finally realised what was happening. His legs gave out, causing him to fall to the floor, but his hands muffled the thud by holding onto the wall, slowing down his fall.

He leaned his forehead against the wooden panels, his breathing shallow and his body trembling in restraint. His hand tentatively reached for his pants, while the other rested on the wall in front of him for support. He had to bite down on his lips to muffle a moan the moment he palmed himself from above the fabric. His bulge twitched, desperately screaming for attention but he knew he couldn't answer… He would make too much noise… and alert you… Scare you… No… He couldn't risk it… He had to wait… Wait until you finished and fell asleep… Only then… Only then he could… 

Reluctantly, he tore his hand away from his pants and rested it on the wall as well, going back to focus on the sight of you. Your voice was growing louder, and each single moan and whimper that escaped you went straight to his throbbing erection, making him grit his teeth. His hips started bucking up, thrusting into the air on their own accord, moving in unison with your own as if he was the one pleasuring you… hitting your most precious spot inside you instead of your fingers. 

He had to summon every ounce of willpower inside him to control himself and hold back when he heard you cry out in pleasure, your body spasming violently, shaken by waves of ecstasy. 

The muffled sound of his ragged breathing drowned out your sounds as it reverberated through his mask, his hot breath condensing into tiny drops on the cold ceramic. 

Brahms kept staring at you, raptured and shuddering with barely contained lust as you came down from your high and tucked yourself in again, ready to fall asleep this time. 

He nearly came only from watching you, or rather, hearing you. If he could have truly seen you, nothing could have prevented him from bursting inside his pants without even touching himself. It would have been so much better than what he was going through at that very moment —shivering, gasping for air, trying to remain silent, and not answering the urge to relieve himself. 

He had to make sure you were asleep first.

MORE STORIES 🥀

[A.N: let me know if you would like to read part 2 of this...]

[Also consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or BUYING ME A ☕, if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]

[bruisedboys]

This celebration is ADORABLE! Finnick Odair with ❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜

hi honey, thank you so much! join the celebration

finnick odair x fem!reader (r is implied to be a past victor)

You feel a bit silly standing at Finnick’s door in your pyjamas, your face damp with tears, bare feet sinking into the carpeted floor. The train hums beneath you, almost hypnotising. You’re a bad sleeper in general, but being on this train has resurfaced so many things you wish you could forget. You don’t know why you expected any better, but tonight’s been dreadful.

You’re not sure if Finnick will even answer the door. You want to try anyway because your heart won’t stop racing and he’s the only person you’d ever want to see at a time like this.

“Finnick?” You swallow around the thick lump in your throat and knock softly on his door. “It’s me.”

He’s at the door faster than you expected. Perhaps he was having as bad a night as you.

“Y/N?” Finnick blinks at you. His hair’s a mess, his shirt crumpled. “Hey. Sweetheart, what are you doing up?”

You blink away fresh tears that threaten to spill. “I’m— I can’t sleep,” you confess. Red hot embarrassment creeps up your neck like flames. “I’m really sorry I woke you.”

Finnick shakes his head. “No, no, don’t be,” he murmurs, a pinch between his brows. “It’s okay, honey, I get it. Did you want to come in?”

You nod silently. He encourages you in to sit on the end of his bed, letting the door shut behind you. You and Finnick, you have a strange relationship. You’re very close, he knows you inside out, has learnt all your secrets but one. You think you’re in love with him, and you really hope he feels the same, but you’re worried that sparkly hope is blinding you. Either way, he’ll do anything for you, which is why you’re here.

You sit on his bed, silent. Your chest feels tight, like someone’s gone and tied a knot with all your organs. Tears well in your eyes and you blink them away desperately.

Finnick moves to stand over you, tall and firm but buzzing with worry. He takes your face in his hands, achingly gentle.

“You wanna tell me what’s the matter?” He asks softly. He swipes at your lower lash line where fresh tears are starting to gather. “What’s made a pretty girl like you cry so much, hm?”

You’re so upset you miss his blatant flirting. You’ll remember it in the morning, though, and you won’t be able to look him in the eye for the rest of the day.

“I keep having these awful dreams,” you say, your voice a strained, weak thing. You take a deep breath, determined to get through telling Finnick what’s bothering you without crying. “I thought they’d gone away, but I guess being on this train, it’s all come flooding back. It’s horrible, Finnick. I don’t …”

Your voice breaks. Your face crumples. So much for not crying. The first of a fresh round of tears spill over Finnick’s hands. He makes a sad, pitying noise and wraps you up in a strong hug.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He encourages your head to his abdomen, seemingly not caring that your tears are quickly dampening his shirt. He rubs your back with a big, warm hand. “It’s okay.”

He lets you cry into his shirt for as long as you need. You know he knows there’s nothing much he can say. Not that he’s said already, anyway. You’re always gonna be haunted, always followed by the sharp bite of grief and guilt. Still, it’s nice to be understood. To be touched like he’s trying to hold all of the pieces of you together lest you crumble.

Finnick rubs your back diligently until the tears ebb and you’re breathing normally again. He pulls back and you miss his warmth. You wish he’d hold you forever. His hands feel grounding as he tilts your face up to look at him.

“You’re safe with me,” he tells you softly. “Yeah?”

You nod. Your head hurts. Your chest burns from crying so much and you’re bone-deep tired. Finnick must notice, because he strokes your cheek fondly.

“You’re tired, lovely girl?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement. His warm hand where it loves on your cheek is enough to send you to sleep. You feel very safe with him indeed. “You need sleep. You’re welcome to stay here, if you want. Would you like to?”

“If that’s okay,” you whisper hoarsely.

Finnick smiles, a soft pretty thing, enough to make your heavy heart soar. He chucks you under the chin fondly. “Of course it’s okay, sweetheart. I think we’ll both get a better sleep if you’re here with me.”

You’re too tired to ask what he means, but you can guess.

[swordsandholly]

Across the Way

Ch.3: The New Normal

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Plus Size!Reader

MDNI

Ao3 | Previous - Next

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

Sometimes Simon still feels like he’s in a dream. The world around him seems effervescent - so ready to slip through his fingers at a moments notice. He expects to pass through Johnny, as though the man was never there, that this house and home and world will crumble and he’ll wake to that grey, cracked ceiling above his bunk in the basic training barracks again.

But then Johnny grumbles something under his breath - because the man cannot shut up, even in deep REM - and turns over, hand resting on Simon’s chest. Even in his sleep the Scot knows how to ground him like nothing else. Like a sixth sense.

He can see discomfort in his husband’s furrowed brow. The hand on his chest twitches.

Ah. He’s going to wake up to a bad day.

Simon figures he won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon, so he may as well prepare. Even he isn’t sure exactly how he knows what will be in store when Johnny opens his eyes but he knows. Every twinge and wince expertly memorized with the same precision that made him do so well in the SAS.

Speaking of, Simon checks his phone while he lines up Johnny’s pain medication. Today’s his call with Price. A monthly reoccurrence. Every third Thursday. The old man and his control issues could never let him or Johnny fully go - he insisted to keep in touch. Even if it is just a monthly call. Simon knows the real reason - that Price was worried about how two gung-ho soldiers would settle into civilian life but the man would never admit to such sentiment.

Johnny stirs, a low groan passing his lips as he tries to hoist himself up. Simon presses his hand to his husband’s back, stilling him with a gentle touch.

“Lay back. Let me ‘elp you up.” He murmurs, rearranging the pillows slowly before wrapping an arm around Johnny’s waist to pull him into a sitting position.

Johnny presses his forehead into his palm, screwing his eyes shut. A small whimper escapes his throat - the sound breaks Simon’s heart every time.

“Rate it.”

Johnny sighs, thinking for a moment. Taking stock of it all. “…Three…?”

“Love.” Simon levels a look at Johnny. One he knows will get the man cut the bullshit.

“…five.”

“Thank you.” Simon nods, turning on his heel to get the proper medication. It’s a particularly bad day, if Johnny is willing to admit to anything above a two or three. For anyone else that’s a seven easy. Stubborn bastard. Simon opens the cabinet to grab the stronger stuff - their on hand back up.

Johnny tries to take it sparingly. He doesn’t want to grow too much of a tolerance - doesn't want to get addicted. Simon isn’t too worried about that, but Johnny insists.

“‘Ere.” Simon holds out two little pills and a cup of water. “Need ‘elp takin’ it?”

Johnny grimaces but nods. Simon’s gut churns with worry. It’s rare for the man to put aside his pride. To allow Simon to carefully tip his head back, cradling it with tender care as Johnny slowly sips at the glass.

“Thanks…” He seems almost bashful despite this being easily the least compromising position Simon has seen Johnny in.

“We’ll take it easy today. Get some take out...” Simon mumbles, reaching under the bed for the heated blanket. On the worst days Johnny’s circulation in his limbs seems to nearly freeze up. How that happens because of a brain injury the doctors have never been able to say.

“Simon?” Johnny murmurs.

“Hm?”

“Kiss me?”

Simon barks out a laugh. The way he still blushes when he asks after all these years is too cute for words. Johnny can say the most salacious shit with a perfectly straight face and then when he asks for such a simple touch he’s flustered like a schoolgirl.

Of course, Simon would never deny him. It’s impossible to say no to those big baby blues.

“I’m going to let Riley out into the yard. Want t’ take a bath when I get back?” Simon offers as he pulls back, running a thumb over Johnny’s lip and hoping the medication will have kicked in by then.

”Tryin’ tae get my clothes off, Mr. Riley?”

Simon rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t ‘ave to scheme t’do that.”

Johnny clicks his tongue. “I’m no’ tha’ easy.”

“Tell that to the maintenance closet in Hereford.”

“Yer no better.” Johnny grins. “Brazil?”

“Shut it.” He makes a playful cutting motion by his neck. Johnny just laughs at him. Simon wishes, like every time before, that he could have the sound carved into his very marrow.

He clicks his tongue and Riley follows dutifully. They got her an automatic feeder long ago so she’s already had her breakfast. Really it was a necessity - back when Johnny was in too much pain the majority of the time for Simon to step away too long. She’s been so patient with them. She runs around the yard excitedly while he throws the ball a few times to get her energy out. Some outside time will tie her over until he can take her for a proper walk.

The weather’s nice today. Johnny will be disappointed he missed out on so much sun.

Simon turns on his heel to go up and get the water started. They installed an extra large tub not long after moving in. Baths together were a small luxury back in the day - cramming both of themselves into shitty hotel tubs and the base housing showers. They never quite fit - usually Simon’s leg would end up hooked over the side of the bath. Or Johnny’s. Working the man open and loose after a long, hard mission-

He stops that thought I’m it’s tracks. That’s not the line of thinking for today.

Simon settles Johnny in first thing. He’s lighter than he used to be. That extra layer of muscle worn down and away over all that time in hospital and in physical therapy. That scared Simon, at first. The idea that Johnny had become another fragile thing for him to ruin. Something he could break.

It was a selfish thought.

The water is hotter than Simon would usually like as he climbs in, but it’s based on Johnny’s preference. Plus it relaxes his muscles - the stinging in his nerves from misfires in his brain. The tremble in his hands.

Simon takes it all in, gently dragging his knuckles over Johnny’s perfect cheekbone. The tender motion no longer feels foreign, which is strange in and of itself.

“Comfortable?” He asks.

Johnny hums and nods.

They stay quiet while they sit. Johnny always seems to glow in the morning light. Angelic. If Simon were better with words he’d write poems. He tried a few times, though he’d never admit that out loud.

The closest he got were his vows (still not good enough). Nothing can encapsulate what it is to love John MacTavish.

“I worry.” Johnny sighs, pulling Simon from his thoughts.

“Bout what?” Simon turns toward him, lowering his reading glasses.

“The baker. She’s all alone over there y’know?” Johnny sighs.

Simon hums. His big hearted boy. “Y’should be worried about yourself.”

Johnny scoffs. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, cause you’re ‘opped up on goofberries.”

“Oh shut the fuck up.” Johnny laughs.

“C’mere.” Simon turns him so that Johnny’s back is against his chest, grabbing one of the extra shampoo bottles to scrub down his hair.

“Thinkin’ about getting’ rid of the mo-hawk…” He murmurs.

“Don’t you dare.” Simon blurts before he realizes, face heating at the admission. Johnny just laughs at him again.

“It’s no’ very dignified. Doesnnae scream grown-man-in-his-thirties.”

“No. But it screams Johnny MacTavish. ‘ow else am I goin’ t’find you in a crowd?”

“Fair point.” Johnny tilts his head back to look up at his husband, grinning. “More hair fer ye tae grab, though. Proper handle.”

Simon huffs. “See, now that’s just playin’ dirty.”

“Simon Jr. likes it.”

“Please stop callin’ it that. It’s been bloody fuckin’ years.”

“Never.”

Simon rolls his eyes. By the end of their exchange the water has started to get cold. He gives himself a very bare minimum scrub down - the perks of having buzzed hair - before climbing out to grab them towels and fresh pajamas.

Before all of this he’d never considered the importance of comfortable clothes. Layer-able. Soft. Breathable. Easy to maneuver in on a bad day when Johnny can hardly walk - though it hasn’t been that bad for a long while. Strange how needs change and fluctuate.

“D’you want to go downstairs or stay up ‘ere?” He asks, patting Johnny dry while he sits on the side of the tub.

“Definitely down.” Johnny nods decisively, wincing at the motion.

“A’right.” Simon scoops the man up bridal style. Back in the day he would’ve thrown Johnny over his shoulder with ease. These days he has to move slower, keeping Johnny steady so as not to jostle his head and irritate his pain. It’s been good, he thinks, to practice gentile touches for the first time in his life.

It’s easy to settle Johnny onto their large, L-shaped couch. To set him up on a throne of blankets and pillows that envelope his frame entirely. They throw on some rom-com as low background noise. It’s not long before he falls asleep, the medication finally fully taking effect and sending him into one of those deep sleeps that will last until his next dose around lunch.

Simon glances over to Johnny’s peacefully sleeping face. Lips parted, quietly snoring.

Might as well get his call done now while the man’s well and truly passed out.

“The prodigal son returns.” Price announces loudly on the other end of the phone.

“Y’talked t’ me last month.” Simon scoffs.

“Ach, well, have t’ give you some shite here an’ there. Gotta tap down that ego.” He sighs. There’s an edge to his voice despite the attempt at a playful tone.

“Y’sound tired, Cap.” Simon settles into the couch, keeping his voice low.

“You’re no better.” The old man grouses. His voice has only gotten grittier over time, though he won’t admit it to be the cigars’ doing “How’s he doin’?”

There’s always a hint of guilt in his voice when he asks. Even four years later, he can’t let it go - can’t forgive the damage done to Johnny. The best of them. None of them could ever blame him for it. There isn’t any blame to be had.

“Alright.” Simon shrugs to no one. “Bad day today but he’s been better on the whole.”

“Good.” Price sighs. There’s a creaking noise - like he’s settling back into an office chair. “You solid?”

Simon huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. Got a new bakery in town. That was enough to have the area properly twitterpated all week.”

“Any good?”

“Actually, yes. Johnny’s taken a shine to the owner.”

“That boy would take a shine to a black hole.”

“Ah, you’d like ‘er. Soft little thing - that’s your whole deal innit?”

Price splutters, Simon laughs. It’s the only thing that can get the Captain off kilter. Throw a live grenade at the man and he’s steady as a rock; mention anything about his love life and he’s no better than a flustered teenager.

There’s a pause.

“Kyle is up for Lieutenant.” Price says.

Simon freezes, swallowing roughly. It’s not that he’s not happy for Gaz - hell the boy deserves it more than anyone - but his thoughts go to Johnny. How he’ll react. He’s been doing so well, these past several months. The news could make him spiral… or he could take it perfectly fine.

It’s a fifty-fifty.

“Yeah, I was worried about how Soap would take it, too.” Price sighs. “Figured I should tell you first.”

“He’ll be fine…He’ll be fine.” The repetition is more to convince himself, really. Simon shakes his head. “Might wait to tell ‘im until ‘e feels better, though.”

“Probably for the best.”

Simon hums.

“How are you doing, Riley?”

“Fine.”

“Y’sure?” Price knows him too well, Simon thinks. Knows how much the military meant to him - how much he needed it.

“I’ve got Johnny.” Simon looks wistfully at his husband, still snoring on the couch in his mass of pillows and blankets. “What else could I ever need?”

Price laughs - loud and full bodied. “You’ve become a sap in your old age, eh?”

“Who’s callin’ who old, here? You’re practically a bloody fossil.”

“Oi, watch it.”

“S’good to talk t’you, Cap.” Simon sighs, sinking further into the couch.

“You too, kid.” Price sighs as well. “I’ve got to go but… do you want me to let you know when Kyle’s ceremony is?”

Simon clicks his tongue. “Yeah. As much as I hate the pomp and circumstance.”

“We all do.”

“Yeah.”

“Take care of each other.” Simon can practically see the way Price is most likely nodding along to the words.

“Always.” Simon nods. He rests his head on the back of the couch, tossing his phone off to the side and staring up at the ceiling.

If he thinks about it too hard - about the SAS and Price and Gaz… that whole life - his chest begins to ache. The military saved him, in many ways. The military gave him his greatest love despite all the fear and strangeness that came with that.

Simon looks over at Johnny’s sleeping form.

He’s worth it.

He’s always been worth it.

Between the three month long coma - the even longer physical therapy - Johnny’s been through hell, to say the least. Truly came back from the dead. What is it, in the grand scheme, for Simon to have to make a career change in order to grasp onto this second chance?

Who knows if he would have even been able to stay in the military if Johnny died. He’d break, surely. He broke the first time Johnny crashed. Fractured upon the second. Died with him on the third.

His therapist says it’s not good for him to romanticize and aggrandize that kind of trauma. She’s probably right but there are worse ways to frame it.

They’re both broken. They’re both healing.

His thoughts drift to you as all things seem to recently. Why do you always seem so sad? Your eyes a far more tired than your age would suggest - the eyes of a woman on her deathbed and ready to go. He’s seen that look too many times in his own reflection not to know it by heart.

He’ll check on you when he goes to the shop tomorrow. For Johnny’s sake.

~~~

“Simon! How are you?” You smile wide. Always smiling. It’s not bright, like Johnny’s, though. There’s a pull at the edges. It doesn’t always reach your eyes.

“Fine.” Simon says more gruffly than he means to.

You swallow nervously. He can tell he makes you uncomfortable. Squirrelly. You don’t shrink away, though. Brave little thing, he thinks. “Uh, Johnny stay home today?”

He nods solemnly. “Migraine started up yesterday.”

“Oh, I hate that.” You frown. So genuine. “I’ve got some extra white bread. Easy on the stomach. I could-“

“That’s kind, but not why I’m ‘ere.” He cuts you off. It’s rude, yeah, but he’s seen the way you can chatter and has a point to get to.

“O-oh?” You squeak.

He steps closer, setting a little sticky note on your counter with two numbers messily scrawled across it, each labeled as his and Johnny’s. Maybe he should’ve gotten Johnny to write it. At least his twos and sevens don’t look alike. “Johnny mentioned you were woozy, when you first met. Said you have a thing.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head. “And?”

It’s defensive. Your shoulders are more square than before, lips slightly pursed and arms crossing over yourself involuntarily. It looks wrong on you, if he’s honest.

“And you don’t seem t’ ‘ave anyone around to look after you.” Simon continues bluntly. “If you need anythin’ you give us a call.”

Your expression morphs into surprise, then bashfulness. He takes it in categorically just like everything else. “Th-that’s really sweet… you don’t have to-“

“It’s only right.” He cuts you off again.

It is. You’re a young woman all alone in a new country with some sort of illness. Something chronic based on Riley’s alert. Simon might be cold but he isn’t heartless - not anymore, at least. Johnny saw to that. Even if he doesn’t know what it is, even if you’re obviously smart and independent, there are too many variables for his or Johnny’s liking.

Simon doesn’t know how to interpret the look you give him. It’s grateful. Soft in the same way as when he gave you that little cut of beef. There’s something else on the edges - not quite desperation. Not quite fear. Something that furrows your brow minutely and has your eyes flicking wildly between his.

You’re afraid of an ulterior motive.

“Take care.” Simon nods once, turning on his heel to leave.

“W-wait-“ He feels a tug on the sleeve of his hoodie. When he turns your eyes are wide, shining. “I… uh…”

“Yes?”

You bite your lip, a consistent habit if the chapped skin is anything to go by. You pull your hand back quickly, pressing it to your chest. “S-sorry, never mind…”

Simon doesn’t press. He never does. Far be it for a man like him to try to force secrets out of someone. So, with another good-bye and a nod, he makes his way out of the shop and starts toward the car to go home. At least, he should.

Instead he stops a little way down the street. Far enough he can still see into your shop without you noticing him. He watches the way you pick up the paper carefully, cradling it in your soft fingers. The way you frown at it, taking a deep breath before pocketing it and disappearing into the back of the shop. He can’t place what compels him to watch you. What keeps pulling them both in.

When he pushes the door open, he expects a quiet house. Dark and silent as Johnny sleeps his pain away upstairs. Instead, he’s greeted with the sounds of pots and pans and Johnny’s voice echoing down the hall - singing along to Celine Dion (though he’d never admit to it if asked).

“Johnny?” Simon turns to corner.

“Och, welcome home!” The Scot shoots him a grin over his shoulder.

“You should be in bed.” Simon kicks off his boots and meanders to the kitchen.

“A man cannae cook fer his husband?”

“Johnny.”

Johnny turns, grinning wide. “I’m fine, Si. Really. Trust me.”

Simon sighs, stepping forward and resting his hands on Johnny’s waist. “I trust you. Y’know that. I just worry.”

“I ken, I ken.” Johnny chuckles, planting a series of kisses across Simon’s face.

Simon sighs, leaning against the kitchen counter while Johnny gets back to cooking. So domestic. Still so strange that this is their normal.

“Kyle is up for Lieutenant.” It comes out in a jumble - more uncertain than Simon is used to.

Johnny pauses, hand flexing around the spatula in his grip. It’s so brief you could almost miss it before going back to sautéing the vegetables in the pan. “Good. He deserves it.”

Simon hums, watching, waiting for a reaction. Eyeing his husband with all the scrutiny he can muster. “Price invited us to the ceremony.”

“Aye.” Johnny nods. “We should go.”

“Are… you alright with that?”

Johnny turns, a slight furrow in his perfect brow. “Why wouldnnae I be?”

Simon searches his face - tries to gather any evidence to the contrary. He finds none. Just a genuine look of confusion at what he said.

Good lad.

“We’ll go, then.”

“Hope there’s an open bar.” Johnny chuckles and turns back to dinner. Normal, casual, comfortable.

They’re both healing.

A/N: I’m not totally in love with how this chapter turned out but I’d rather get it out and get to the next than lose motivation bc I got stuck.

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an adult pt 6

Hiiiii. I just wanna say thank you so much for everyone's support and love while writing this series - it means so much to me. This part was very easy to write but also emotionally draining ahahaha. Ik I did a poll and a lot of people said they wanted 1 really long fic, but I've split it into 2 halves instead cos it was so long! Also a massive shout out to @lyak12 who helped me a lot with the plot and hyped me up- forehead smooches for u. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Barça Femeni x reader / Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Description: R faces the consequences of her actions

TW: It's very emotional and hints of R's bad mental health

Word Count: 6.6k

You genuinely had no idea how you ended up at the beach. One moment, you were in the changing rooms with your life falling apart around you – your shattered dreams and splintered relationships crashing to the ground. And then you were on a quiet bench near the sea wall, legs tucked under your chin as you sat silently, broken in so many ways.

The gentle breeze carried the tangy scent of saltwater, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and something fried wafting from a nearby snack stand. The waves relentlessly lapping at the shore rhythmically, the repetitive sound a soothing melody to help you drift away in the stillness. Time seemed to blur as you stared out at the vast expanse of the sea, lost in the chaos that was your mind.

You didn’t need to look up when you felt a presence standing next to you. You felt the bench dip as they sat down, not bothering to speak. You stayed silent for a very long time. You had no idea how long you had been there – minutes, hours, perhaps even longer. But as the bright blue sky began to shift into a blaze of fiery oranges, soft pinks, and deep purples, you realised that it had been long enough for the day to give way to the dark blues of the evening. A lone tear trekked down your cheek; you didn’t bother wiping it away.

“They hate me,” you finally said. You heard your companion sigh quietly, a sound filled with empathy and understanding.

“They’re scared,” Esmee countered, her voice soft and soothing. You didn’t respond, the weight of your thoughts drowning out the gentle reassurances offered.

"I fucked up," you admitted after a few too many minutes, the rawness of your confession cutting through the silence. It was Esmee’s turn to be quiet, her expression a mixture of compassion and thoughtfulness.

“We all make mistakes,” she said after a beat, her words a gentle reminder. Well, that was the most Esmee response ever. You turned to look at her, the fading light casting shadows across her face.

“This was more than just a mistake.” you insisted, your voice sounding weak and far away.

“You were hurt. You needed comfort. Something that you couldn’t find in Barcelona.” Her words hung in the air between you.

“I hurt them,” you said resolutely.

“Yes, you did. But I don’t think you meant to.” You could always count on Esmee to offer the truth. Some people thought she sugar-coated things, but you always found that she just said things in a way that was honest yet kind.

You fell back into silence, both of you looking out to the horizon. You had no thoughts wandering across your mind. No voice in your head or niggling feelings. You were just numb. It could have been minutes or hours; you weren’t sure.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” Esmee encouraged, standing up and offering her hand.

“I, um,” you cleared your throat. “I don’t have my keys or anything.” You looked up at her with big, wide eyes.

“That’s ok,” she smiled.

The silence in the changing rooms was deafening, broken only by the sound of shallow breathing. No one dared move. The only noise was the door clicking softly shut behind you.

“Qué quiso decir? Por qué no le renuevan el contrato?” It was Martina who was brave enough to speak up. Bruna looked up from her intense stare at her boots. All of the younger girls' eyes fell on Alexia. She was their captain, and they needed her to navigate these choppy waters. Alexia blinked. No one had mentioned the possibility of the club not extending your contract. She knew you were able to go on a free at the end of this season, but she had assumed you would sign for Barça again, at least for a year or so. When she had seen those pictures of you in Germany, she thought something had looked a little off. Even through the pixels, you looked so … distant. You clearly did not look comfortable there. At first, she chalked it up to nerves about meeting your new teammates and guilt that you were caught in the act. But now … now she wasn’t so sure. There was a tightness to your face, your usually bright and animated eyes looked clouded, and a subtle sadness in your posture.

“N-no sé.” Alexia breathed, clearly dazed.

“Ella no puede irse.” Vicky insisted. You and Vicky had a unique bond, one that often drove the older girls insane with your misbehaviour.

“She doesn’t have a choice.” Kiera reminded her softly, bringing an arm up to comfort the youngster. “A club doesn’t have to offer anyone an extension if they don’t want to, for whatever reason. Y/N has to leave Barcelona if she wants to play football next season.” Keira had always been a voice of reason in the team; she always had an great understanding of the dynamics at play both on and off the pitch.

“Pero … por qué?” Vicky looked around.

“I’m not sure,” Keira answered honestly.

“Ella no se está transfiriendo?”

“Not willingly,” Keira smiled weakly.

It wasn’t until you stepped through Esmee’s front door that you realised you'd never actually been to her place before. You weren’t the best of friends; she usually hung out with Aitana, Ingrid, and Frido – the quieter girls on the team, quite the contrast to the lively bunch you, Cata, Pina, and Ona could be. Her flat was distinctly Esmee: neat and tidy but with a warm, inviting atmosphere. The shelves were littered with pictures of friends and family, and the walls were filled with colourful art. Her couch looked cosy, with a soft green throw draped artistically over the back. “Do you want some tea?” she asked kindly, smiling as she gestured to the kitchen. You returned her smile with a soft nod. Why was she being so nice to you? You had been a raging arsehole and deserved nothing but the harsh words Lucy had hurled your way.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I told the others you’re with me,” she said apologetically, handing you a steaming mug. You nodded again, your heart sinking a little. “They aren’t going to come round, at least not tonight.” Was Esmee a mind reader? How else would she know you were anxious about them coming over?

“How did you find me?” You asked sometime later. It had stumbled across your mind when she first appeared next to you.

“You mentioned that you like to go to the beach to think.” Have you mentioned that? “After training, I drove along the front until I saw you.”

You stared into your refilled mug; the steam curled upwards and danced in front of you. “I didn’t know you knew that,” you murmured. “I didn’t think anyone knew that.” It was true; you don’t think you had ever mentioned the long walks along the beach you liked to take in the early hours when you couldn’t sleep. The fresh air helped clear your mind, the movement of your body helped to get the blood flowing again, and the peaceful nature helped soothe your soul.

Esmee shrugged, a gentle smile on her lips. “I notice people.” Her words hung in the air between you, warm and comforting like the tea you held. You glanced up at her, feeling a flicker in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely. She nodded back at you, settling back against the sofa, sipping on her own mug.

Ona was conflicted. On one hand, she was immensely relieved that you were safe. You weren’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere or injured and in a coma, unable to identify yourself to anyone. The scenarios that had been playing in her mind for days were far worse than the reality. She had been losing sleep, haunted by the fear that something terrible had happened to you. Knowing you were okay was a weight off her shoulders. But on the other hand, a heavy sense of betrayal gnawed at her. You hadn't trusted her enough to tell her anything. She thought about all the times you had confided in each other, sharing secrets and dreams and comforting each other during tough times. She was your best friend, the one who had always been there for you. And yet, you ran a thousand miles away without a word, without a hint of where you were going or why.

The hurt she felt was deep and raw. How could you not have trusted her with your plans? Why didn't you believe she would understand or help you through this? Her mind swirled with questions and doubts, each one cutting deeper than the last. She wanted to be happy that you were safe, but the sting of your secrecy made it hard to fully embrace that relief. The bond you shared felt strained, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of abandonment.

And now you had disappeared again. When she finally stepped foot on the pitch, she had thought you would have been there too, waiting for training to start. But you were nowhere to be found. Ona scanned the field, her eyes darting from one familiar face to another, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Her heart sank with each passing moment. The coach blew the whistle, signalling the start of practice, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't focus, the worry gnawing at her insides. It must have been one of the worst training sessions she had had in a long time.

She had broken one of Alexia’s steadfast rules – no phones at training. Ona checked her phone obsessively, hoping for a message or a missed call from you. Nothing. The knot in her stomach tightened. She wondered if something had happened again or if you had chosen to vanish this time without a trace, leaving everyone behind to worry and speculate. Her phone buzzed.

Esmee: I’ve found her. She’s safe. I’ll bring her back to mine when she’s ready. E

She could have cried. She was fairly sure she had. Relief washed over her, mingling with the painful ache of betrayal. At least you were safe, and that was the most important thing. As she stood there, clutching her phone, Ona resolved to be patient. She would give you the space you needed, but she would also be there, ready to listen, when you were finally ready to talk.

You woke up the next morning in just as much of a daze. It took you a moment to realise you were on Esmee’s couch, the unfamiliar surroundings disorienting you even further. You hadn’t slept well. You tossed and turned as much as possible on the small couch, the spare bedding Esmee gave you tucked up around your chin. When you did sleep, it wasn’t much better; the nightmares that your mind dreamed up made you even more tired than before.

The quiet chatter from the kitchen pulled you from your not-quite sleep. “That’s up to her to say, Mapí,” Esmee said softly. You could imagine her face, the small apologetic smile and pinched eyebrows.

“Pero... sólo quiero saber, por qué? Ella de dijo algo anoche?” Mapí implored further. Of course, Mapí would be grilling Esmee. You could see her arms moving around as she spoke.

“Min skjønnhet, stop bugging Esmee” Ingrid cut in. You could envisage Ingrid’s soft smile and gentle hand moving comfortingly across Mapí’s shoulders.

“No, mi corazón. Necesito saber por qué se fue del puto país en lugar de hablar con nosotras.” she all but shouted, a guilty look flashing across her face as she registered her volume.

“María.” You didn’t need to be in the room to see Ingrid’s unimpressed look.

“Mapí, I’m not going to betray her trust like that. I found her, I took her home, she stayed the night. Ask her yourself.” You had never heard Esmee sound so tough. Your heart swelled at the thought of her protecting you. Sitting up slowly, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and listened more intently.

Mapí sighed, the sound of a chair scraping back as she sat down. “Aunque estoy muy enojado con ella. No creo que pueda hablar con ella sin gritar.”

“I know,” Ingrid reassured her, her voice softer now but still firm.

You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to finally face them. The floor felt cool beneath your feet as you walked towards the kitchen, the soft murmurs of their conversation growing louder.  As you entered the kitchen, three pairs of eyes turned to you. For a moment, no one spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words and raw emotions. Mapí stood up, her movements hesitant. “Por qué te fuiste sin decir nada?” Her voice was trembling, and you could see the effort it took for her to keep her tone steady.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “I...” you took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I just needed out,” you confessed.

“Y pensaste que desaparecer sin decir una palabra era la mejor manera de hacerlo.?” Mapí’s frustration was evident, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. You had no words. You had no reason, no excuse for your behaviour.

Ingrid stepped forward, her face a mask of disappointment. “Do you have any idea what you put us through? We were worried sick, thinking something terrible had happened to you.”

“No puedes simplemente huir de tus problemas y dejar que nosotros recogamos los pedazos.” Mapí added

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at each of them, their disappointment bearing down on you, crushing you. You had never felt so small, so utterly ashamed of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words barely audible through your tears. “I never meant to hurt any of you. I was just... overwhelmed. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“We understand that you were struggling, but that doesn’t excuse what you did. We’re your friends, and we deserve better than to be left in the dark like that.” Ingrid sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We care about you, but you need to understand that your actions have consequences. You can’t just expect us to forgive and forget.”

“I don’t expect you to.” You refused to meet her eyes, gaze fixed firmly on the tabletop. “I really am sorry,” you whispered out, blinking rapidly to try to stop the tears. Feeling the weight of their words settling heavily on your shoulders, you knew you had a long road ahead of you, one filled with apologies and making amends.

Alexia couldn’t allow herself to feel all the emotions she was feeling. She had to be the strong one, for the team, the one who held everyone together when everything seemed to be falling apart. But deep down, behind the facade of strength she presented to the world, she was crumbling. Fear, anger, and grief churned inside her, threatening to consume her whole. She wanted to scream, to cry, to lash out at the unfairness of it all. But she couldn’t. She had to keep it together ... for the sake of those who depended on her.

Her training was one of the best she had ever done. She focused solely on the ball at her feet. Her passes were stronger, her shoots were faster, her tackles harsher. Each movement was driven by a mix of determination and frustration. Yet, no matter how much she threw herself into her sport, the ache in her heart remained. The weight of your absence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the betrayal she felt. You had received some terrible news. News that had blindsided you into fleeing the country. And you hadn’t confided in her. That was what made her the most … angry wasn’t the right word. Sure, she was so incredibly angry with you for running away. Even when you had all the legal trouble last year, she had never been this angry with you. But now that anger mixed with pain. You had begged her, pleaded with her to treat you more like an adult. And the first thing you had done when times had gotten tough you had acted like a child. Rather than asking for help, reaching out to those around you … those who loved you like family … you had fled. No word, no explanation, no nothing. You left. You left the team. You left her.

As she sat in the solitude of her car, the weight of your actions bore down on her like a heavy burden. The betrayal cut deep, slicing through the layers of friendship and trust she had built with you over the years. She wanted to understand, to offer you comfort and support in your time of need. But the hurt ran too deep, leaving behind a bitter taste of resentment and disappointment. How could you have kept such a monumental thing from her? Had she made you think you couldn’t come to her? Why? Why? Why? The questions swirled in her mind, unanswered and unresolved, adding to the confusion already in her heart.

Esmee graciously drove you back to the training ground to retrieve your belongings. Grateful that it was only an afternoon session, you silently thanked the heavens for the deserted car park. It was eerie, walking through the silent corridors and into the empty changing rooms. You tried very hard to not think about the events of yesterday, focusing on the speckled flooring and the wooden benches as you dug through your bag to get your keys. You would be back that afternoon, so the kit could stay in your locker for now. Your phone was dead, unsurprisingly, but you knew Lena would have spammed you in the meantime.

Returning home felt surreal. Evidence of someone's presence lingered—dishwasher humming, blankets neatly folded. The thought of Ona or Alexia, perhaps tidying in anticipation of your return, tugged at your heart. The house, once brimming with life, now felt suffocatingly empty. Each room echoed with your absence, the memories of laughter and warmth now hauntingly distant. Moving through the familiar spaces, you felt like a ghost, your steps muted by the plush carpet beneath you. Every corner held a fragment of the life you would have to leave behind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what once was. Yet, as you moved from room to room, a sense of disconnection enveloped you, as if you were a stranger peering into a life that no longer belonged to you.

Your phone buzzed, and buzzed, and buzzed. Lena’s texts were coming through.

L💚: How was it?

L💚: Did u speak to them?

L💚: Is everything ok?

L💚: Schatz?

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Helloooooooo

L💚: Schatz?

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Ur really scaring me

L💚: Schatz ????

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Please

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Bitte

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: WHY THE FUCK HAS ALEXIA JUST TEXTED ME TO TELL ME U DIDN’T TELL THEM U WERE IN GERMANY????????

L💚: PLEASE TELL ME U TOLD THEM U HAD LEFT THE FUCKING COUNTRY

L💚: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: Y/N !!!!!!!

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE

Missed call from L💚

Missed call from L💚

L💚: PHONE ME !!!!!!!!!!!!!

The last message dated from only 30 minutes ago.

Incoming call from L💚

“Schatz, what the actual fuck?” Lena almost shouted down, the Facetime picking up her distress.

“I … I …” you felt a tear escape. “Fuck,” you said, harshly wiping it away.

“This makes me look so bad. Do you get that?” You did get that. To the team, she was now the girlfriend that aided and abetted your horrific actions. “I know. And I’m so, so sorry, Leibe,” you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell them?” she questioned again.

“I wasn’t thinking. I needed … out. I needed to get away. And it was all so fast and …” your explanation trailed off, a weak defense against her justified questioning.

"That's not good enough, Schatz. They're your friends. Did you think they wouldn't care? Did you think they wouldn't help? I'm trying to understand," Lena's tone softened slightly.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I fucked up massively. And I have no explanation for any of it.”

Lena let out a frustrated sigh, her features creased with concern. “You can't run away from your problems, Schatz.”

“I know,” you said, the guilt weighing heavily on your heart. “And I promise I'll do better. I'll make things right, I swear.”

“Wirst du das tun, wenn wir jemals streiten? Wirst du auch einfach verschwinden?” Lena's voice trembled with uncertainty, her fear palpable.

“No, never,” you replied immediately, the sincerity in your voice echoing through the connection. “I won't ever leave you. I promise, Lena. I love you.” Lena scrutinised you for a moment, searching for truth in your eyes. Finally, a glimmer of hope flickered in hers.

“Okay ... just promise me you won't shut me out like that. We're supposed to be a team, remember?” Lena implored. You nodded earnestly. “And make this right with the team. You can’t leave like this, especially not with Ona and Alexia.”

Lucy's fury surged like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf her and everything around her. Never before had she felt such a consuming anger, a tempest of emotions raging within her. How dare you, she seethed inwardly, her clenched fists trembling with unrestrained fury. The words reverberated in her mind like a relentless echo, each syllable fuelling the fire of her indignation.

The betrayal cut deep, slicing through the bonds of trust with surgical precision. How could you drop that absolute bomb of information on the team and then just leave? The question echoed in Lucy's mind, a refrain of disbelief and betrayal. Her chest heaved with the unspoken words, the air thick with the tension of unresolved anger.

Every fibre of Lucy's being screamed for justice, for retribution against you, who had callously shattered their trust. The image of Ona’s face burned in her mind like a brand, a scar etched into her memory. She had looked so scared, so fragile and raw. But beneath the raging storm of anger, there lurked a profound sense of hurt, a painful vulnerability that threatened to consume her. How could you do that to everyone? Did they mean nothing to you? Did Ona mean so little to you? The wounds of betrayal ran deep. Lucy found herself adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions, struggling to make sense of the chaos that had engulfed their once-unified team. The anger burned hot and fierce, a relentless inferno that threatened to consume her from within.

The changing rooms didn’t hold their usual pre-session chatter. There wasn’t a loud, bright atmosphere as people greeted each other and slipped into their workout gear. There was no gentle undercurrent of excitement for the day. Instead, it was spookily silent. A few low murmurs were uttered here and there as people passed, but there was no conversation, no high-fives, or laughter.

You had arrived at training early, hoping to avoid any awkwardness. As you entered, the stillness was almost suffocating. Mariona was the only other person there, her cubby positioned directly opposite yours. You both went about your routines in an awkward dance of avoidance, her presence a constant reminder of the tension that now defined the space. Seeking refuge, you slipped into the bathroom, deliberately taking longer than usual. The routine tasks of washing your hands, tying back your hair, and applying suncream felt almost meditative, a brief respite from the silence that awaited you.

Moving like passing ships in the night, you and Mariona drifted around each other, the silence punctuated only by the rustle of clothes and the soft thud of locker doors.

“Entiendo,” Mariona said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm but firm, and your head whipped up in surprise. Her words hit you with the force of a confession, their gravity making you feel like she had just admitted to something far more serious. “I understand … I’m terrified, and I’m leaving voluntarily.” The admission hung in the air, starkly contrasting the heavy silence from earlier. “I can’t imagine what it's like for you.” A lump formed in your throat as you struggled to find the right words.

"I didn’t mean to hurt anyone," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The weight of your words was palpable, each syllable a testament to the regret you felt.

Mariona’s eyes softened, but the tension remained. “Yo sé eso.” You nodded at her words. Your mouth opened to say more, but you were interrupted by the door swinging open and Irene, Marta and Caro walking through the door. You snapped your mouth shut, dipping your head down and turning back to face your locker.

The trio's arrival brought with it a fresh wave of awkwardness. Their conversation, though low and cautious, filled the room with an attempt at normalcy. You focused on your locker, trying to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of their glances. Irene, always perceptive, gave you a fleeting look of concern but said nothing. Marta and Caro exchanged glances, sensing the tension but unsure how to address it.

Slowly, the rest of the team trickled in. It was obvious that you would be participating in this session in silence. No one made a move to talk to you, to even greet you. Not until they had the all-clear from Alexia. You waited until you were one of the final few in the room. Turning, you caught sight of Ona and Lucy whispering in the corner. Ona’s face was still slightly puffy, her eyes still red as she picked at her nails. Lucy’s lips were pressed into a thin, hard line, the corners turned downward in a scowl, her eyes flicking in your direction occasionally. Her body was taut, every muscle seemingly coiled and ready to spring. Shoulders squared and rigid, she stood with a stance that was both defensive and confrontational. Her hands balled into tight fists and trembled slightly with the force of her suppressed rage. Her breath was measured as if she was struggling to maintain control and not let the anger consume her entirely. You hurried out of the room, rushing to leave the couple to their conversation.

The training session was one of the most awkward and painful things you had ever experienced. You stood quietly, tucked away at the end of the line, as Jona started the warmups. Trying to avoid drawing any attention to yourself, you focused intensely on the basics: placing one foot in front of the other, the rhythm of your breathing, the movement of your body. You hoped this would keep your mind occupied and distract you from the palpable tension around you.

When it came time for partner work, you found yourself lingering silently, waiting for a few uncomfortable moments before turning to the trainers. With an odd number of outfield players, someone had to be paired with one of the staff. Today, it seemed like that someone would be you. It wasn't the arrangement itself that bothered you; rather, it was the underlying implications. There was an air of exclusion that hung heavy in the atmosphere, making you feel like an outsider in what was supposed to be a team activity. The most unbearable part of it all was the not-so-subtle looks being thrown your way. It was clear that people were talking about you during the water breaks. Jana would frequently glance in your direction, only to be slapped on the arm by Pina as if reminding her to be discreet. Vicky appeared to take a tentative step toward you, possibly to offer some form of solidarity but was quickly redirected by Bruna, who nudged her in another direction. These interactions left you feeling isolated and self-conscious. Every whispered conversation, every sideways glance, seemed to amplify your sense of alienation. You could almost hear the silent judgments. This wasn't just a training session; it was a stark reminder of your outsider status, of how much damage you had done.

The scrimmage at the end was no better. Thankfully, Jona had made the teams for the final 7 v 7. Was it karma that he had placed you on the left wing with Lucy as the opposing right-back? Maybe. But you couldn’t deny that you deserved every shove, every tackle that she gave you. She seemed to be toeing the line between unprofessionalism carefully. She never left a lasting mark on you, but you could tell each push was personal.

As the exercise progressed, Lucy's aggression became more evident. She was relentless, pressing you harder than she did anyone else on the field. Each time she shouldered you off the ball or slid in with a perfectly timed tackle, you could feel the underlying animosity. It wasn’t just about winning the ball; it was about sending a message. If it were a normal day, a day when you hadn’t messed up so unbelievably badly, you would have shoved back or shouted a little. But you couldn’t do that. Today, you were paying for your mistakes, and Lucy was more than willing to collect.

So, you took it. Every time you were sent to the ground, you didn’t question it. You didn’t wait for the whistle to be blown or hope that someone would extend a hand to help you back up. Instead, you popped back up, shook yourself off, and continued like nothing was wrong like your whole life wasn't crumbling around you. Each time you hit the grass, the sting of the impact seemed to echo your emotional bruises. But you refused to show it. You forced yourself to remain strong. You could break down again later. You pushed through the scrimmage with grim determination, aware of the eyes on you, aware of the judgment, but unwilling to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you break.

Despite the bruises and the rough treatment, you managed to stay on your feet more than you had thought you would do. You moved through the motions, running up and down the small pitch, crossing balls into the box, and tracking back on defence. But every action felt hollow, your mind a swirl of what-ifs and if-onlys. The final whistle came as a relief, yet also with a sense of dread. You knew the real battle was far from over. As Jona dismissed you for the day, you helped the trainers collect the equipment, hoping to delay your return and allow the others time to leave peacefully.

As you walked through the main doors back into the building, you noticed Alexia. Standing strong and unimpressed, leaning against the wall. You went to speak but thought better of it, nodding once and smiling uneasily instead. As you moved to walk past her, she stopped you, a warm hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Nosotras necesitamos hablar.” Her voice was sharp, a firmness that was hardly ever directed at you … not since the trouble from last year. You nodded, your voice unable to work.

You followed her through the maze of corridors until you reached a seldom-used meeting room. Was it a coincidence that it was the same room you had the meeting with the State Officials in and first told them about Lena? Maybe, but you wouldn’t put it past Alexia to have chosen it specifically. “Sentarse.” Her voice held a harshness to it that cut through you like a knife. You deserve this. You deserve this. You hurt her. You hurt everyone.

“Since you wanted to be treated like an adult, we will talk like adults.” You nodded. God, why couldn’t you speak? It wasn’t like you hadn’t been in trouble before. Maybe it was because this was such a personal mistake. When you hadn’t completed the forms on time, yes, it had been your fault as you were the person responsible, but there was a somewhat clear-cut way to fix it. It was laid out for you. But this … this was something you needed to navigate like an adult. No one was going to help you this time.

Alexia pointed to a chair, and she pulled out her own. “Explicar.” Her command was simple, really. But where could you begin? Where should you start? You were clearly taking too long. Alexia huffed, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at you. You sank into the chair, feeling the weight of her gaze bearing down on you. How could you explain the mess you had made? The knots in your stomach tightened as you struggled to find the right words. Despite your best efforts, your breath quickened, and your fingers had a mind of their own as they started to pick at the dry skin around your nails.

"I... I don't … I don’t know … where to start," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Alexia's expression softened ever slightly, but her impatience was palpable. She had never seen you look so young. Even when you were in the hell that was the legal trouble last year, or the wide-eyed teen that turned up on her doorstep at the request of the club, with a single suitcase and a dream.

"Just start from the beginning," she urged, her tone imperceptively gentler now. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“I got a phone call from Paul … my agent,” you swallowed, staring harshly into the table, refusing to meet Alexia’s eye or even look in her general direction. “He said he had just got back from a meeting with the club.” You stuck to the facts, no emotions, no elaborations, just facts. You couldn’t … wouldn’t … cry if you stuck to the simple facts. “He said they couldn’t afford to keep me next season.” You stopped.

It was clear to Alexia that that was as much as you could say about the situation without breaking. You were so similar in that way. Both of you refused to cry in front of someone else, not unless you were truly comfortable and perfectly safe around them. Did you not feel safe around her anymore? Had she broken your relationship? No, she stopped those thoughts in their tracks. You had broken the relationship, you, not her … then why did she feel like she was to blame, at least partially?

Alexia watched you carefully, her heart aching at the sight of your pain. She wanted to reach out ... to comfort you. No. She held herself back. She knew that now wasn't the time for softness, not when there were hard truths that needed to be faced. “What about Germany?” Her voice was still icy, cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. What about Germany? Germany was where Lena was. Germany was safe. Germany had Lena. You took another steadying breath, pushing down everything that was threatening to overwhelm you.

“Lena phoned me. She said either I went to her or she came to me. She had the Pokal final, so I went to her.” Another pause. “I needed to think. To breathe. To …” you trailed off. You let out a shaky breath, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Todavía no entiendo.” She admitted after a moment. You nodded, biting your lip so hard that you started to taste blood. A tear plopped onto the wooden table in front of you, another one joining quickly afterwards. “Por qué … why didn’t you tell someone? Anyone?” Alexia's question pierced through the haze of your thoughts, demanding an answer you weren't sure you had. Why hadn’t you done that? You honestly had no explanation for it. You just needed out. Out of your house. Out of Barcelona. Out of Spain. Every time you looked at your phone, all the emotions came flooding back like a tsunami. So, you didn’t look.

“I don’t know,” you croaked, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own racing heartbeat.

“Eso no es lo suficientemente bueno.” Alexia's words were severe, a reminder that there would never be a good enough reason to justify your actions. You knew that. You knew that there would never be an excuse that could erase the hurt you had caused. You nodded. “Mírame,” she demanded after a moment. Your head remained down, but your eyes drifted up.

Alexia looked in pain. Not the physical pain – you had seen the uncomfortable look she had when she had tweaked her knee again or the scrunch of her eyebrows when an opposing player left her mark on her. This was different. This was emotional pain, etched into the lines of her face, shadowing the brightness of her eyes. As you watched her struggle to contain her emotions, the guilt pierced your heart tenfold. Your actions had caused her pain ... had shattered the fragile peace she had worked so hard to maintain. “Por qué no viniste a mí?” Once she asked that initial question, the floodgates opened. “No querías que te ayudara? I could have done something. I could have spoken to the club or something, anything. Em culpes?” She finished her sentence in Catalan. She thought you blamed her? You didn’t know what to say. The dam broke. Hot, fat tears rolled in a steady stream down your face.

“Never, Alexia. Never. I never, ever blamed you. I promise. It’s not your fault. It’s on me, it’s all on me. I’m not good enough for the club. For anyone. Of course, they want to renew you and Lucy over me. You deserve it so much more than me. This isn’t anyone’s fault but mine.” It was a mismatch of languages. Some sentences in English, some in Spanish and Catalan, and others in German. “I fucked up so badly. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I … I couldn’t ... I needed to … I don’t even know. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You don’t deserve any of this. I fucked up so horrifically.” Alexia had never seen you so upset. It was clear she needed to intervene when she noticed your breathing quickening. You were hyperventilating now, apologies still streaming from your mouth. With a gentle hand, she reached out and placed it on your trembling shoulder. She didn’t think you even noticed it.

“Cariño. Breathe.” She instructed. Eventually, you slowed down, your breathing and heart rate returning to a more normal level. “Thank you for apologising,” she said when you had fully calmed down. “I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not hurt. And I’m not quite ready to forgive you. But I think there is more to this story than just you. You should not have been blindsided like that by the club. But your actions …” You nodded.

“I truly am sorry, Ale, um, Alexia.” You really wanted to hug her, but you knew you weren’t quite forgiven enough for that yet. She stood, offering a weak smile to you as she left the room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3<3

[eddiesxangel]

You and Eddie taking one of those romantic bubble baths together in a big jacuzzi and he shaves your pretty pussy for you

Tw: pregnancy

My brain went to reader being pregnant bc they can’t reach bc of their baby belly.

He would be so gentle, helping you into the water making sure you don’t slip and fall. He would put in the jets for you bc he knows your back has been aching from the weight of the baby. Once he also got in he would let you soak for a bit before hand and massage your feet and ankles. He would let you lean up against him and just hold you until you asked him to help shave out of the blue. It has been so long and it was getting long, longer than you liked, and Eddie’s seen everything anyways so why not?

“What no, baby I like your little bush” he smirks

“But that bush is not so little anymore it’s too long you won’t been be able to find my pussy in this jungle I’m growing.” You huff

“Baby you’re being ridiculous, let’s just enjoy the rest of this bath and we will go to bed and I’ll show you how good of an explorer I am.” Eddie laughed.

“Baby please! I don’t feel sexy anymore I just wanna have this one thing” you pout.

“Woah woah woah. Don’t feel sexy anymore? How is that even possible? You’re the sexiest woman I know. You have all the curves a man could dream of… especially now bc your boobies are getting bigger and your ass is getting bigger and knowing your growing our baby… fuck your are my superwoman”

You try and hide yourself in Eddie’s chest but he doesn’t let you. He knows you don’t take compliments very well.

“Look at me baby” you look up at his eyes. Yours were staring to water, the pregnancy hormones were really bad and you cried at everything now. “You really want me to do this for you?” Eddie countered.

“Please” you sniffled.

“Okay baby.” He kisses your head before stepping out of the tub to get your razor and shaving cream.

When he got back he plopped you up on the side of the tub so he could get a good angel to not cut you.

Once he was finished you were really aroused. Having Eddie stair at your pussy, and touching it was getting you worked up. Eddie could see how the blood had rushed to your pussy, making your lips fuller. And now with the hair gone he could see how swollen your clit had gotten and now wet you were. He couldn’t help but lean in and kiss you there but he couldn’t get a good angle because your baby got in the way.

“Come on mama, I gotta treat this pussy right after threatening her with a razor. Gotta show her how much I love her” Eddie pulled you into the bedroom and you had one of the best orgasms of your life

🤭

[lydiimae]

Strains and Stresses

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader

Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.8k

A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3

You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.

Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.

For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.

From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.

You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.

He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.

It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.

After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.

You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.

It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.

You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.

It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.

Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.

As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.

"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.

You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.

You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.

Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.

He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.

He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.

You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.

At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.

Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."

He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.

The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.

"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.

Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.

You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.

"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.

He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper

"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.

He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.

When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."

He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.

You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.

"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.

He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.

An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.

How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.

[aurorawritestoescape]

BAD BLOOD part 5

Pairing: step-uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: the one with a late night visit, a hot breakfast and a surprise from Joel.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, dark!reader, mfm, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cockwarming, rough!Joel, Tommy is sweet (for now), somno, f/m oral, face slapping (2), creampies, cum eating, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, exhibitionism, masturbation, swearing. Reader has hair that can be pulled. Tommy can pick up reader. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.

Word count: 5,8k

A/n: I’m so excited to share this part with you all! It’s filthy and even sweet at times, until it’s not😅 Big thanks to @milla-frenchy for holding my hand, hyping me up and beta-ing this depravity😘Thank YOU ALL for your interest in this story!🥹 Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Love you all💖

Part 4 || SERIES MASTERLIST || Part 6 || MASTERLIST

*****

You feel ticklish, when a warm breath fans the inside of your thigh. In a second soft lips kiss your pussy and a hot tongue delves between your folds. Your back arches from the sudden pleasure and you open your eyes.

You’re lying naked in the middle of the table in the dining room, where your stepdad Tommy ate you out, while your step-uncle Joel watched.

You look down and see Tommy’s head between your thighs. He glances up and gives you a playful wink, before diving back into your pussy. He’s sucking on your clit and you’re softly moaning, while fruitlessly trying to gather your thoughts and remember if your mother is at home or not.

You’re drowning in pleasure but suddenly you hear a growl behind you. Scared to death you hastily tilt your head back and to your surprise find Joel sitting at the head of the table. With confusion you see that he’s eating a steak. He’s stabbing his fork and knife into the meat, loudly cutting it while watching his brother having another type of meal.

What the fuck? You try to say but can’t. Rage begins bubbling in your stomach, tinting the pleasure Tommy’s giving you. ‘Why is he just sitting there? Why is he only watching? Arrogant motherfucker!’

Joel seems to notice your anger, because the next moment he leaves the fork and knife on the plate and gets up. Planting his hands on the wooden surface of the table, he leans forward and his face hovers over yours.

Your eyes lock for a few moments before Tommy plunges his tongue inside your crying hole and you gasp. Joel smiles, then leans closer and kisses you.

He’s gentle and soft, a stark contrast to his behavior when you spent a night together. His tongue tangles with yours while Tommy licks deep into you, gathering your arousal and drinking it, humming with satisfaction against your pussy.

You’re in heaven for a few seconds until you hear your mother’s voice. Your heart drops and you wake up.

You’re in your bedroom and the moon is peaking through a crack in the drapes. You’re breathing heavily, trying to calm down, as your heart is about to jump out of your chest. Suddenly a realization hits you that not everything from the dream dissolved into the reality. You still feel the lips, caressing your pussy. After hastily throwing off the blanket, you see Tommy devouring your cunt, his hands holding your thighs open while his mouth applies light suction to your hardened clit.

“Tommy,” you half whisper-half moan and he parts from your pussy and raises his head.

“Hey, baby. I’ll be right up,” you hear him whisper, before he gets back to work.

You look around the room, calming down bit by bit, and then put your head back on the pillow. You smile to yourself, thinking that the reality is almost as enjoyable as your dream.

You’re so close to the climax, your whole body vibrates, and when your stepdad rubs your clit with the flat of his tongue a few times, you’re already wriggling on the bed while euphoria is coursing through your body. You’re breathing out Tommy’s name and he laps up your juices and when his ministrations start hurting, you slightly push him away and he climbs up your body.

Soon he’s kissing you and you whimper, tasting yourself on his lips. You can’t get enough of each other, making out, while he’s lying on top of you. He starts slowly grinding his clothed crotch against the apex of your thighs and you feel him hard and big on your naked pussy.

“You’re back,” you whisper, when he parts from you.

After her weekend away, Jess took hold of Tommy and you haven’t seen him for a whole day. You haven’t seen Joel either, which was on purpose. You avoided him as hard as you could, having spent the whole day at your friend's place. You were trying to decide what to do next.

Joel wanted you to ruin Tommy’s marriage by sending the recording of their conversation to your mother. But after that night, you started to feel pity for your stepdad, especially after he asked you to delete the audio. He promised that you’d continue fucking and that was exactly what you had ever wanted from the plan. So you avoided Joel, hoping that he’d leave for Austin soon and your stepdad and you would sneak around to fuck any chance you got.

“Hope I didn’t scare you. Couldn’t help myself. You are so hot when you’re sleeping, sweetheart.”

Tommy kisses you again and you're practically melting in his arms.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you whine and he growls.

“When you put it this way, I can’t say no,” he whispers, getting up to sit on his heels between your thighs.

He looks down at your naked pussy and swirls your clit with his thumb, making you jerk from the sensitivity. You ask him quietly,

“Where’re my shorts?”

“Took ‘em off. Was careful not to wake you”, he replies with a wink, his eyes glinting with mischief in the moonlight.

You whine, as your core burns harder because of his words.

He frees his cock and it bobs over your waiting pussy. Your legs part, inviting him in, and he doesn’t make you wait. Tommy slides his cock into your already soaked cunt with a soft ‘yeah’, digging his fingers into your thighs and you echo him with a moan.

“Quiet, sweetheart,” he reminds you and whispers, “Fucking love your pussy. ‘s the best.” You feel flattered at the same time driving away the thought of who he’s comparing you with.

He starts pushing his cock in and out of your cunt, his moves slow and thorough. Tommy takes your ankle and puts it on his shoulder, while pressing your other thigh down, opening you up to him completely.

Even in the darkness of the room you see his cock glisten with your slick every time he pulls it out of your sopping cunt. His thumb is on your clit again and you cry out with the added pleasure, and he quickly shushes you,

“Shh, you don’t want anyone interrupting us, right, baby?”

You shake your head and when his finger returns to your throbbing bud, you whimper against the back of your hand, trying to be discreet.

For a few minutes it’s just this—him fucking you as you’re watching.

“Sweetheart,” Tommy murmurs and your gaze slides up from his cock, pounding your pussy, to his beautiful face. He’s smirking.

“Would you want Joel to be here with us?”

“No, I love being alone with you,” you whisper back, and he laughs.

“Your pussy clenched on me so hard when I said my brother's name,” Tommy says and slightly bites your ankle. “Don’t lie to me when I have my cock in you like this. She’ll always tell me the truth.”

You smile back at him.

“My pussy is a slut. But my heart—There’s only you.” You’re not sure if you’re lying or not but you know that this is what he wants to hear.

“Fuck, little minx”. Tommy breathes out and picks up the pace. You bite your lower lip, trying to keep quiet, and squeeze your eyes shut, enjoying the way his big cock massages your walls.

“Bet you’d love to suck him off right now. Or have him in your ass. You need all your holes stuffed, right, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” all you could manage to say while he’s relentlessly railing you.

“What if we plug all your holes, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you purr, feeling your core tighten.

“We can easily find a third guy. Anyone would be willing to fuck you, baby.”

The image of three men claiming your holes intoxicates you and you whimper, “really?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tommy says through heavy panting, “I don’t have anyone in mind here but in Austin— Joel surely knows someone who can gangbang you with us.”

You moan and he grunts, trying not to be too loud, but your pussy is too good to enjoy it quietly. His sounds make you clench even more and in no time you’re coming on his stiff cock, mouth open in a silent scream, back arched.

When your climax subsides, Tommy keeps going, rolling his hips deep and hard.

“Where, honey?” He asks with a little moan.

“Inside. Want your cum. Please, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

As soon as he praises you, he erupts into your wet heat, and you feel his warm seed kiss your walls and slide out of your hole, while he’s drawing pleasure from your cunt.

Tommy stills and gently pulls his cock out. He splays his palm on your lower belly, slightly rubbing your skin and asks,

“Do you feel me here?”

“Yes, it’s warm. I’m so full,” you mumble, putting your hand over his.

He whispers ‘good’ with a little smile and lies down next to you.

Your stepdad pulls you close and kisses you. You wish he’d never stop, never leave your bed. You fall asleep, happy and satisfied, on his broad shoulder.

*****

When you wake up, Tommy’s gone and you lie in bed, remembering the night before. You still sense your stepdad's hands, sliding over your body, his mouth on your pussy, his cock buried deep inside your burning core. You throw your blanket off, feeling hot and horny. You’re naked from your waist down and your pussy is still wet. Your needy cunt makes you bring your hand to your tingling center and you lightly trace the edges of your slicked up hole. Then you push a finger inside and pull it out completely wet with Tommy’s cum.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out and get more of his load from your leaking entrance. Then you swirl your clit, using Tommys cum as lube, and every nerve in your body lights up. You moan louder than last night, rubbing your throbbing clit, soaking the sheets with your sweat. As soon as you imagine Tommy’s tongue on your twitching bud, you come undone, limbs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing.

When you calm down, trembling legs carry you to the shower.

***

Before going downstairs you stick your head out of the bedroom door and listen. You hear Jess’s annoying voice downstairs, so Tommy must be there too. Wearing your slutty pjs - your stepdad’s favorite, and a crop top, you head downstairs, your hair still wet from the shower. You find your lover at the kitchen table, yawning and listening to your mom with a blank stare.

“Slept badly, Tommy?” you tease him, walking up to the table and taking a seat next to him.

At first he beams, seeing you, but quickly makes his face serious in the presence of your mother.

“I slept like a log,” your mom says and you smile to yourself, thanking her for it.

You grab a toast and nibble on it, just enjoying Tommy’s presence and trying hard to tune Jess out.

Her yapping about something stupid and boring is soon interrupted by a door ring.

“It must be Cindy,” she says, getting up and leaving the room.

As soon as she’s out, your hand flies to Tommy’s thigh.

“Is she leaving?” You ask, rubbing his leg with a devilish smile.

His breath hitches and you notice that he matches your excitement, judging by the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Yeah. Be patient, baby.” He takes your hand and moves it from his thigh up on the table. He’s trying to keep his composure but his blown eyes, sliding over your body, tell you that he’s as desperate as you’re.

You turn to the door, hearing your mom’s steps, and to your disappointment, see Joel following her into the kitchen. He’s wearing a low cut shirt that exposes his sexy chest and a pair of tight jeans, accentuating his huge package. As always he looks like a slut.

An involuntary ‘fuck!’ escapes your lips and you drop your gaze, trying to appear invisible to the man you’ve been avoiding.

Apparently Joel has heard you, because he comes up to you and kisses the top of your head.

“Happy to see you too, sweet niece,” he rasps and you jerk away from his lips but gush anyway, remembering him fucking your ass just a day ago.

He pats Tommy on the shoulder and goes to pour himself a cup of coffee. Jess is visibly displeased by his visit.

“You three have a nice morning. Cindy and I are going to Madison’s. Jack is leaving her for a 20 year old bitch. Can you imagine?”

“Maybe they’re in love,” you say, raising your brows, and your mom scoffs. Tommy glances at you, his gaze is full of warmth and affection, and you answer it with a little smile.

“Good for him,” Joel booms behind you and Tommy nervously squeezes his coffee mug.

You turn back to the older man, glaring at him, scared he might say something about your relationship with Tommy. He’s leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in hand.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, Jessica,” Joel continues, “men are not meant to be monogamous. It’s nature. They will always want someone younger and hotter.”

Jess rolls her eyes at him and you can’t help but follow her suit.

“They can be if they meet the right person,” you dispute and he smirks.

“Yes, angel, until they meet the next right person.”

He laughs and you’re boring your eyes into the man. Soon your staring contest is interrupted by Jess, saying that her friend is here.

Tommy goes to see her off and as soon as Joel and you are left alone, you get up and try to sneak out of the room as soon as possible.

You’re almost at the door, when a rough hand grabs your arm, unceremoniously spins you around and pins you to the fridge.

“Not so fast, missy,” Joel growls and your stomach drops, “Ya ghostin’ me, girl?” He presses you with his hips into the hard surface of the fridge and you feel his soft cock, which is still huge, against your lower belly and fire ignites in your core. You hate him but you can’t deny the pull he has on you. His scent, his body, his dominance overwhelms you and you get wet and push your thighs together.

You try to wiggle your way out but he’s too strong and big.

“What? No, Joel. I was just busy.”

“Doin’ what? Being a cum dumpster for my little brother?”

You avert your eyes and he chuckles, nodding his head, before bringing his face closer to yours.

“I need you to get his dick out of your mind for a second and do what you promised me. Send the fuckin’ recording to Jess. Now!” He roars and fear grips your heart and at the same time makes your arousal spike. You use all your strength not to moan. You need to stop thinking with your pussy for a second, need to concentrate, so you take a deep breath and try to reason with him.

“Joel, listen. I can’t do it now. I still have to live here for a week. Do you think she’ll be ok with me after she hears the recording? She’d hate me. Even more than now. I really don’t wanna be here for that shit show.”

You make your cutest pleading face and beg, “Please. I’ll send it as soon as I leave for college. I promise, Joel.”

His piercing stare under the furrowed brows makes your stomach churn, but you try to seem calm. After a few moments of consideration, Joel’s face softens and he slightly pulls away. He’s still very close and your chest brushes his, when you shift on your feet.

“ ‘k. But as soon as you’re out of ‘ere, send it. I’m tired of waitin’.”

“Yes, Joel.” You’re batting your lashes at him, feigning obedience and hiding the excitement that you just got yourself a week of fun times with your stepdad. Feeling bolder, you lower your gaze to Joel’s lips and a memory of him kissing you flashes in your mind. You crave having his mouth on yours. And more than that.

As if reading your mind, Joel leans to your face and his lips brush your cheek.

“Missed me, baby?”

Your breath hitches and he smirks, “ ‘s what I thought. Tommy may keep your pussy full but we both know how much ya want this cock.”

He bucks his hips into you and a new surge of arousal makes you throb.

Joel’s lips kiss your cheek and then get lower as he latches on your neck, immediately sucking a hickey into your delicate skin, while his hands grab your ass and he pins you to the fridge again.

Yet now you don’t want to escape, to run from him, you welcome his mouth, marking your neck, his hands, getting under your shorts and kneading your ass. He’s groaning, as his lips travel up to your mouth and you readily open yours, welcoming his tongue inside. The kiss is heady, sloppy and hot. He tastes like black coffee, cigarettes and something so uniquely Joel, you can’t get enough of it. Of him.

Your pussy cries to be touched, so you start grinding your mound on his stiff crotch and he smiles against your lips.

“Knew ya hungry for uncle’s dick, little slut.”

You’re not wearing any panties, and when his hand slides under your shorts, he grabs a handful of your tingling pussy, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Fuck, angel, is it all for me or is it Tommy’s cum dripping out?”

You don’t have time to reply, before he pushes two fingers into your soaked hole, and you gasp from the sensation, grabbing his massive arms.

Joel starts fucking your pussy in a steady rhythm, pushing his fingers in and out and rubbing your bud with his thick thumb.

Suddenly he grabs your throat and lightly squeezes it, his hot palm sending chills down your spine.

“I asked you a question, angel.”

“Fuck you, perv,” you bite back with a smirk, as your whole body is revelling in bliss from his hands on your pussy and throat. Joel’s nostrils flare but he smiles. You both know the rules of the game you’re playing. You love when he’s rough with you as much as you love Tommy doting on his precious stepdaughter.

Your heart drops, when you hear footsteps, and you freeze, while Joel is nonchalantly keeps fucking you with his fingers. To your relief, you see Tommy walking into the room and after a surprised ‘the fuck?’ he comes up to you two.

You slightly turn your head to him, Joel’s hand on your throat still keeping you in place. Your stepdad’s expression, worried at first, gets softer when he sees your hazy eyes and parted lips and he gives you a warm smile.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” Tommy asks, while Joel is shamelessly working your cunt.

“Yeah, Daddy,” you whine and Joel chuckles.

“She’s still full of your cum, Tommy. Ya played with her tonight?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replies in a proud voice, “filled her up good. Right, sweetheart?”

You try to nod, which is difficult, as Joel is holding you by the throat.

Tommy bends down and yanks your shorts down, until they pool at your feet. He plants his elbow on the fridge next to you and tilts his head to the side, watching Joel’s glistening fingers slide in and out of your needy hole.

You feel your orgasm coming up and whine a pathetic ‘daddy.’

“Yeah, sweetheart, let it go. Wanna see your pretty face, when you come.” Your stepdad leans closer and kisses you. Joel’s hand lightly squeezes your throat and you breathe in Tommy's air. The hard bulges of your stepdad and step uncle, snugly pressed to your body, Joel’s hands, Tommy’s lips make you throb and you cry out, as your climax sets you ablaze.

“Good girl,” Joel mumbles while Tommy’s kissing you on top of your high. You’re whimpering into his mouth, your pussy squelching, still being finger fucked by Joel. Tommy parts from your lips and watches your face twist in pleasure.

When your orgasm dissipates, Joel pulls out his digits, coated in your creamy cum, and brings them to your mouth.

“Clean up your mess, angel.”

You do as you’re told, licking and slurping on his thick fingers, while his hungry eyes are watching your every move. When you’re done, he pulls them out and grabs your breast.

“Time for your second breakfast.”

He unzips his jeans and you see his cock spring out. His fat tip is glistening and you lick your lips.

Joel chuckles and goes to the table. He sits down on one of the chairs, manspreading and holding his throbbing length in his hand.

Tommy steps up to you and hugs you, his hands quickly finding their way to your bare ass and squeezing your cheeks in his big palms. You nuzzle his neck, leaning on his broad chest after the hard orgasm.

“C’mon, angel. My cock won’t suck itself,” Joel’s gruff voice breaks the silence of the room.

Tommy pulls away, takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up to face him.

“Do you wanna sit on my cock and blow your uncle, baby?”

These depraved words coming from your stepdad, your mother’s husband, make your head spin with lust. You’d do anything for him right now. For both of them.

“Yes, please, daddy,” you whimper and he leads you to the table. Mugs and plates are still left on its surface, making the situation hotter for some reason.

Tommy sits in the chair next to Joel and pulls his gray sweatpants down. They’re already stained with precum and when he takes his cock out, you see it weeping for you.

Joel gets your attention with a slap on your bare ass, growling, “Can’t even suck a dick without your daddy stuffing ya? Needy little slut. Fuckin’ whipped.”

“Don’t be jealous, Joel,” you purr, standing between two men half naked, your inner thighs glistening with your cum in the bright morning light.

“It’s his pussy, but you get to have my mouth and ass which is too generous on my part. You should be grateful.”

“Oh, I am, angel. Let me show you how grateful I am by fuckin’ your pretty face.”

With that he gets up and lays his heavy hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon, time to sit on your daddy’s cock,” he chuckles, and you’re enjoying how impatient he is to feel your mouth.

You get between Tommy’s legs, your back to him and after planting your hand on the table, start lowering your hips. Your stepdad guides you with his hands on your waist and soon you feel his tip nudge at your sopping hole.

With Joel’s cock bobbing in front of your face, you start sinking on Tommy’s length. Your languid moan fills the kitchen as you take him deeper and deeper. Joel’s hand on your shoulder pushes you roughly down and you sit on your stepdad’s cock with a gasp.

“Joel, be gentle,” Tommy scolds his brother and you look up at Joel with a triumphant smile.

Tommy pulls you closer to his torso while your pussy is adjusting to his thickness. He's pulsating inside you as your cunt gushes around his girthy length.

Joel doesn’t give you time to revel in the sensation. He grabs you by the hair, tight but not hurting you, and pulls your face closer to his cock.

His fat wet tip hits your lips and you look up at him with defiance, not taking it in your mouth. You want it, but the opportunity to make him boil is too delicious to miss.

“Can I slap this bitch, brother?” Joel asks Tommy, not tearing his eyes off your smug face.

“I asked you to be gentle, Joel,” Tommy scolds him but your ears perk up.

“But I want it, daddy,” you whine, your lips brushing Joel’s velvet head.

“ ‘k then.”

As soon as Tommy says it, Joel's palm harshly lands on your cheek and you grab the side of the table as your head sways to the left. Tommy’s hands grip your hips harder as he growls,

“Fuck, you do really love it, baby. Your little pussy clenching me so hard.”

“Yeah,” you whimper, rubbing your cheek, while Joel’s fist is still clenching your hair. The slap burns a little and you love it.

“Anytime, angel, we all know you deserve it. Now open your fuckin’ mouth,” Joel commands and you do it with a content gaze.

He pushes his throbbing cock between your lips, and you taste his salty precum. You suck on his head, cockwarming your stepdad.

Your hands are planted on Joel’s hips for stability and you take him deeper into your hot mouth until his tip hits your throat.

“Oh, yeah, angel. Ain’t ya happy I finally let you suck on my dick?”

You hum around his cock and both men chuckle.

“I think it’s a ‘yes’”, Tommy chuckles as his hands squeeze your thighs, then glide up over your belly and then pull your top up. He gently kneads your naked tits, as your whimpers are muffled by your step uncle’s fat cock.

You begin bobbing your head up and down, lips curled over your teeth, saliva dripping down your chin, sliding down to his balls. You try to keep your gaze focused on his face, lust and pleasure painting his features. His blown half-lidded eyes watch you blow him and then lower to enjoy the way Tommy’s playing with your pebbled nipples, twisting and tugging on them. You roll your eyes, dancing on the verge of orgasm from Tommy’s ministrations, his length throbbing deep inside you like the second heartbeat and Joel’s cock filling your mouth. You clench hard around Tommy.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he moans behind you and gently nips at your shoulder, “you’re incredible. Wanna live in your perfect cunt.”

Joel chuckles, “your wife may object.”

No one reacts to his quip, Tommy’s too entranced by your pussy, you’re slurping and gagging on Joel’s member.

He pats your head after a contend groan. “Ahh, doing great, baby. Told ya it’s all ya good for, sucking a cock and sitting on it.”

His warm hand cups your cheek and your eyes lock. “Make her come, Tommy, my little niece deserves it.”

“She does. She’s choking my cock so well.”

“Speaking of choking,” Joel pulls you off his member and you whine.

“Hungry little slut. Don’t worry, ya gonna get your favorite lollipop back. I’m gonna fuck your mouth and ya gonna come on Tommy’s cock, got it?”

You take a deep breath, knowing fully well that Joel won’t spare you, but you nod, biting your lip, “I’ll do my best, daddy,…uncle,” you reply to both of them and the men hum approvingly.

Tommys hands brush your soaked folds, spread open by his cock, filling your core, and his thumb finds your clit, already puffy after Joel’s fingers.

You clench around your stepdad and he moans, “fuck, baby, I won’t last..”

You want to say it’s ok, but Joel already takes your head between his giant palms and pushes his cock back into your mouth. Tommy’s fingers start rubbing, swirling your little clit, while Joel begins fucking your mouth. The roll of his muscular hips is slow at first, merciful, but getting closer to an orgasm, he moves faster and rougher.

His fingers pull at your hair, as his cock plunges into your mouth, hitting your throat again and again. You try to breathe around him, gasping for air any time he lets you, but it’s hard because of how huge he is and you scratch his hips to make him pause.

He pulls you off and slightly slaps your cheek, scolding you, “no scratching, bad kitty.”

You gasp for air and then giggle, being absolutely cock drunk and drowning in the pleasure of having two fat cocks inside you. You feel like you could faint from the ecstasy.

Your core tightens when the flat of Tommy’s palm rubs your whole pussy. He’s rapidly shaking his hand left and right, making your sloppy cunt squelch as you start coming. Joel stuffs your crying out mouth with his cock again, muffling you and fucks deeper, harder into your throat.

You feel yourself like nothing but holes for their cocks, a fuck doll, made solemnly for their pleasure, and the thought makes your pussy pulsate harder.

Your limbs tremble, your whole body jerks with every wave of euphoria. Saliva is drooling down your chin as your pussy coats Tommy’s thighs with your creamy cum.

“Such a good girl for us,” Tommy praises, choking on his words, as he explodes inside you. Loud groans escape his mouth, as he’s painting your walls with his hot cum.

“Yeah, like that, good slut” Joel moans as your lips, tongue and throat are massaging his cock. He starts coming too, his load squirting inside your throat and you drink it all, without any need to swallow.

When your orgasm subsides and they stop pumping their seed into your spent body, Joel takes his cock out of your mouth and you try to catch your breath, leaning against Tommy’s hot chest.

With his cock still inside you, he’s peppering kisses over your shoulders, neck, cheeks while his gentle hands are caressing your body, thanking you for the pleasure you gave him. Joel tucks his cock inside his jeans and plops on the chair. He lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag with a satisfied hum.

Your eyes half-closed, your limbs pleasantly tingling, you’re watching him watch you. You hate how good this handsome fucker makes you feel. He’s an asshole but deep inside you have to admit he’s closer to you than Tommy. Just like you he gets what he wants, no matter the feelings of people you might hurt in the process.

Tommy brings you out of your thoughts, gently turning your head to him to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as he’s hugging you tight, while his cum drips out of your pussy.

Joel interrupts you two after a few seconds by getting up with a grunt.

Tommy and you stop making out and look up at him.

“Can I get a kiss, uncle?” You ask, smiling with a twinkle in your eye. You expect him to refuse tasting his cum on your tongue but he surprises you,

“ ‘course. C’mere,” he motions you to get up with a jerk of his chin, and with widened eyes you get up, as Tommy’s cock slides out of your hole.

Joel pulls your half-naked body to him and wraps his arms around you. Your heart flutters when he’s being so affectionate with you. You can’t help but moan when he presses his lips to yours. Soon he’s licking into your mouth, as you’re melting against his chest.

His lips shift to the side and brush your ear, “thanks for the blowie, angel. One day I’ll return the favor.”

Your spent and used up pussy aches again, imagining him on his knees between your legs.

“Can’t wait,” you whisper back and plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek.

When Joel leaves, Tommy takes you in his arms and carries you to your bedroom. He lays you down on the bed and you roll under the blanket. You fall asleep while he’s caressing your cheekbone with his thumb.

****

You wake up with a jerk. It’s still sunny outside, you must have slept for a couple of hours. Soon you realize the reason for your abrupt awakening. Jess is screeching downstairs. You hear Tommy’s voice too, he’s not as loud as her but he’s definitely trying to over shout your mother.

You’ve heard them arguing before but not as bad as now. You furrow your brows and chew on your lip, still staying in bed.

Listening to them, by habit you grab your phone and check notifications. There’re a few messages from your friends, a missed call from your grandma, and then you see it.

A set of instant messages in your family chat.

The last one from Joel Miller.

You wonder why the fuck he’s in your family group chat at all and then your heart freezes and you start feeling nauseous when you open the last message. It’s a photo.

Of Tommy sitting on the bed in the master bedroom and you straddling him. Both of you are naked. It was shot from the back so your faces are not visible but it’s clearly you two.

Your hands start shaking and you drop your phone, that almost hits your terrified face.

You��re lying for a few long moments almost motionless, while a whirlwind of emotions is swirling in your stomach and your mind is screaming, trying to decide what to do now.

There’s only one way out.

Out.

You get up, put on some clothes and hastily start packing. You take whatever you see and throw it into your suitcase. Then you pad downstairs and sneak out of the house, fortunately, not getting caught by anyone.

Soon you’re walking along the street, with the luggage behind you, running away from the place you definitely can’t call home anymore. Your heart is pounding in your ears, though a part of you feels free, free of your mother, free of the old life. Fuck her. You call your friend and ask if you can crash at her place. She says ‘yes’ and offers to pick you up at the nearest bus stop. While you’re waiting for her, you look at the family chat again.

The fear that you felt before gives way to anger. You’re so mad at Joel, your eyes well up with tears and you wanna scream and break things. Just when you thought that your step uncle believed your promises, he goes and pulls this shit?!

With trembling fingers, you find an audio recording on your phone and send it to Tommy, mumbling under your breath,

‘Thought you could fuck me over like that, asshole? Let’s see who gets fucked now.’

The message to your stepdad goes through and you press ‘play’ and in the quiet of the suburban street you hear Joel’s gruff voice, telling you the plan of getting Tommy move back to Austin, “step one, angel - we record my little brother sayin’ that he wants to fuck ya…”

*****

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic💖 it motivates me to write more filth for you wonderful people😘 and I’d love to hear your thoughts/thots/ideas. What’s gonna happen next? 👀

Part 6 || SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @ratoonstown @tammythr @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @talaok

Tommy tag @huskyfox5

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕