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#i saw it in a book the other day and i had to find more but unfortunately a lot of the imgs of his work online are pretty low quality
thisismeracing · 3 days
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Not quite love | CL16
read the full piece here
― Pairing: charles leclerc x friend!reader (she/her) ― Warning: mentions of alcohol and food; friends to lovers; angst; unrequited love; not been proofread yet; 2k words. ― Summary: When you get romantically involved with your best friend you were not expecting a marriage proposal, but simply a commitment. You were sure that what you had wasn’t quite love, though it could be and maybe that’s what hurt the most. The fact that you had everything to be each other’s end game, but turned out to be strangers. 
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preview
You and Charles had everything to be the perfect couple.
To have the perfect story.
A book-worthy one.
You were long-time friends.
Though your family wasn’t very fond of him, his family loved you, and that was enough. Over half of your friends in common hinted about you guys getting together. The dynamic was this good from the outside, and so was the tension whenever you were together. 
You would share desserts, dance with each other, sleep in the same bed after friends get together –nothing sexual ever happened, and maybe that’s the reason why it was so intimate and ground to tension flourish. It was beyond the physical. At least for you. 
It all took a turn when you finally moved to Monaco to study and work.
*****
“Don’t cry, chérrie,” he cooed, lips finding a few droplets of tears and cutting short their path on your cheeks. You turned your head in his direction, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of his warm skin against yours, seeking the solace of it. 
The Monegasque read the way your body leaned in, the way your face felt hotter against his lips, and he lined his breathing with yours giving you enough time to pull back, but you didn’t. In fact, you broke the barrier of space between you two, pressing your lips in a feverish kiss. Charles answered in a second, gripping your waist and bringing you impossibly closer. His tongue was demanding, and his body against yours felt different than the other times. More intimate. 
“Fucking finally,” you could almost hear your friends with their hands up to the heavens, so you chuckled, ultimately breaking the kiss. Charles grinned.
“If I knew this is all it would take for you to smile I would have greeted you with a kiss,” his teasing earned a giggle from you.
*****
[...] At the end of the day Charles would sleep at your place –or you at his– at least once a week. You would still share movie nights like when you were just friends. He would still send you funny TikTok he watched, and you were still telling him about all the books you read. 
Those were things boyfriends and girlfriends did, you knew that, nevertheless, you wanted to believe that he was planning something. Or that maybe he already saw you that way. Maybe he was afraid of the constant travel and the pressure of his career and media. Maybe he was trying to protect you from the fans. 
Charles never voiced any of this. Never sat down to talk about it, and you didn’t ask. Not until you graduated and got a job proposal in America. It wasn’t France, Germany, or Sweden, places you knew would be easier to gravitate to Monaco when the schedule let you. It was oceans apart, but it also felt like an opportunity to compromise, to keep your –hopefully official- relationship going. 
The thing is, life is unpredictable. You can’t guess what someone is feeling or how they will react. Your mom would always tell you that the heart is unknown ground – a place nobody will ever explore in its plenitude. You only get in the rooms the other allows, and even then inside there are tons of places that not even the owners visited. 
To know yourself is hard, and to know the other is even harder.
You didn’t know Charles.
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profoundbondfanfic · 3 days
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Hi there!
I have been looking in vain for fics with Non-verbal Dean or Castiel. I've read a couple but haven't been able to find anymore and the tagging system only seems to give me junk results not actually related to that.
Thank in advance for your help!
Hey! Here are a few fics we could think of:
All Cats Are Gray After Dark by squirrelofcelestialintent (Explicit, 19k words)
1992, NYC. Dean is a Gulf War veteran working in the grimiest ER in the city, and he’s holding his life together. Kind of? Maybe. But he’s got secrets. No one at work knows that he’s not physically mute due to a war injury, but rather selectively mute from way back in the day, because that is almost impossible to explain. Nobody but Sam knows he’s a rare, male Omega, and the discovery of that secret was why he got kicked out of the army. And nobody, absolutely nobody, knows that he occasionally sneaks out to have anonymous sex with men. Until he meets Castiel freaking Novack - anonymous hook up turned new boss - who in less than a month manages to find out all three.
Casicorn by everandanon (Explicit, 56k words)
When Detective Dean Winchester suddenly finds himself with a new roommate, a mysterious man who doesn’t speak but seems to somehow be connected to the department’s recent vigilante problem, he has no idea what he’s in for. The guy doesn’t know how to work a TV, brush his teeth, or even take a shower, and he stares at Dean all the goddamn time. Not to mention he insists on sleeping in Dean’s bed. While Dean is in it! Weird, right? Except the longer Cas sticks around, the less Dean starts to mind; the more he kind of dreads Cas leaving for good, actually, even though nobody really knows who Cas is or where he came from. And then, one night, Dean happens to witness their vigilante firsthand and realizes he knows Cas even less than he thought . . . (Loosely inspired by The Little Mermaid)
Finding You In Every Sign by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 99k words)
Castiel was content with the constant flow of his life. He had his brother Gabriel, had his coffee shop and the weekly book club meetings as well as a small but solid group of friends. If there was one thing his hateful family had taught him, it was how fast things could go wrong if he let too many variables shape his life. So when he met Dean, a gradual regular at his shop, Castiel knew he was trouble, because Dean was like a comet, beautiful but beyond reach. Ever since his father died, there wasn’t a single constant in Dean’s life. Moving on, never stopping, never getting attached to one thing for too long had made him a drifter for the past seven years. Being the only hearing person in his family hadn’t been easy with a father like John Winchester, so as soon as Dean saw an escape, he took it. Settling down to open his flower shop was anything but easy, especially when he met the elusive deaf owner of the coffee shop next door. The more he discovered about Cas, the louder the voice in the back of his head whispered that maybe Castiel was the person finally worth staying for. And maybe, just maybe, Dean was willing to listen now.
Hear You Me by through_shadows_falling (Explicit, 84k words)
Castiel is a college graduate stuck in two dead-end, part-time jobs. Oh, and he’s Deaf…which to his oldest brother Michael makes him something to constantly fret over. It’s not Castiel’s fault that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, right? Not like it’s Michael’s business anyways. Enter Dean Winchester. A chance encounter with the man has the power to change Castiel’s life - and in the end, maybe, just maybe, it will help him finally understand and accept who he is and what he’s meant to do.
i saw the light by LoversAntiquities (Mature, 14k words)
“Sam, you gotta hear about this ghost story I found the other day,” Susanne says over the speakerphone, just as loud as she has been for the last half hour. For the most part, Castiel ignores her—or tries—and concentrates on the beads dangling from between his fingers, centerpiece pressed to his forehead. Praying doesn’t work, but some mornings, when the coffee doesn’t get him going and the walls feel more like a prison than a home, he sits at the library table and whispers empty words into the crucifix, like Jesus can ease the festering ache in his chest. He can’t—no one else can either.
late july by thanks_tacos (Explicit, 26k words)
'I would like to take in your most abused one,' Castiel says, looking at the rows of doors in the yellow corridor. 'Give him a good home.' After his accident, Castiel needs someone to help him around the small brick house he lives in and the bookstore he owns. So, he adopts Dean; an omega who barely survived being dumped in a ditch and left for dead. Dean doesn't talk, but that's fine; they learn to live together in the quaint, rainy city surrounded by a green forest. Castiel just wants to give Dean a peaceful life he deserves, and maybe also - become his mate?
Looking for a Sign by emwebb17 (Mature, 70k words)
Dean can't figure out why the hot guy on the train is ignoring him…that is until he realizes that the man is profoundly deaf. After an unpleasant misunderstanding, the two become friends. It isn't long before Dean wants more, but Castiel sticks steadfastly to his rule about not dating hearing people. When Dean starts to date other people to try to get over him, Castiel starts to wonder if maybe Dean is the exception to the rule.
No Words by Ltleflrt (Explicit, 112k words)
On the run from his very powerful family, Castiel does his best to get lost. Because if he doesn’t know where he is, his brothers won’t be able to find him very easily either. He ends up in Silverton, a small mountain town nestled deep within the Rocky Mountains where he meets Dean Winchester, a very beautiful and very grumpy omega.
sunflower by unicornpoe (Teen and up, 4k)
Castiel comes home on a Sunday.
Still Waters Run Deep by thisisapaige (Explicit, 41k words)
In the darkest depths of the ocean, sealed into the ma'lak box with Chuck trapped behind the Mark, Castiel loses the battle against God's rage. When Sam and Dean find Castiel on a dark patch of highway— the Mark missing and his grace weak— he cannot speak. It rains. It rains and it rains and it rains. It is a Great Flood. In order to stop God, save the world, and resolve the issues simmering between them for years, Castiel and Dean need to communicate. Perhaps they should build an ark instead.
The Hanged Man by orphan_account (Mature, 87k words)
After Park Ranger Cas Novak saves a mysterious stranger named Dean from an attempted murder in the woods, he finds himself drawn into the man's secretive life. Someone tried to kill Dean, but he's not telling who. In fact, he's barely speaking at all. If he's going to have any hope of helping Dean, Cas will have to convince the man to trust him — all while trying not to fall in love with him along the way.
We also have a mute tag with more fics like these. Also if you search for 'selectively mute dean' or 'mute dean' (or cas if you prefer cas) on ao3 you might get lucky as well.
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oohnotvery · 2 days
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NEW FIC - WIP! Hand To Your Heart (Chapter 1)
Hi all,
This is my take on the classic trope of “Mulder and Scully decide to be friends-with-benefits. Surely they can keep their emotions to themselves, right? Oh, and add in a little Fowley angst.”
This isn’t totally canon-compliant because I genuinely don’t understand the mytharc and don’t care to get better acquainted with it.
As usual, this is a WIP and will have a happy ending (MSR). My last fic proved to me that I shouldn’t promise any true regularity in updating, but I do try to update about 2-3 times a week.
Enjoy, and as always, thank you for reading and commenting! Find me on AO3 (oohnotvery)!
-E.
tagging @today-in-fic
Scully
They haven’t tried this position before, but Scully is glad it’s what Mulder wants tonight. Here on his bed, with her ass in the air and her eyes pinned to the pattern of his duvet, it is a welcome relief not seeing his face as he approaches orgasm.
When they initiated this little arrangement five weeks ago, she didn’t put much—if any—thought into which sex positions they might try. At the time, all she really cared about was getting him naked regularly, having the chance to touch his body without hesitation, and being able to engage in her most recurrent fantasy—sex with Mulder—without a hint of shame.
Of the fifteen times they’ve had sex, they’ve tried a lot of things together: missionary, cowgirl, standing, spooning, going down on the other, and one time, he even convinced her to sit on his face. Although she blushed from head to toe at that last one, she has a feeling that for the rest of her life, it will stand out in her memory as the most thigh-trembling, toe-tingling, spine-curling orgasm of her life.
So tonight, when he tossed her face down on the bed, she was a little surprised. They’ve never tried doggy style before. Although in past relationships she’s enjoyed the feeling of being taken from behind, she hasn’t been too interested in trying a position with Mulder that feels so . . . detached.
Her surprise quickly gave way, however, to a deep surge of relief. Tonight, he’s not pulling her into his lap or positioning them like he normally does—foreheads touching, gazes locking as they come in near synchronicity. No. That would be far too intimate tonight.
Maybe he’s feeling it too, she thinks as he pauses to shove her legs even wider apart. Her clit is nearly touching the mattress now and she resists the urge to grind down into his bed. She doesn’t want him to see her so needy. Not tonight, not when the tension between them has escalated to a fever pitch. Not when they can barely look each other in the eyes.
It was a mistake to come here, she thinks as he starts slamming into her. She is too vulnerable, too emotional, stripped bare after a week of confusion, jealousy, and disloyalty.
But the little chicken-scratch note he slapped on her desk today was too tempting to ignore.  
Tonight, my place. Be there at eight.
All of their prior dalliances have begun either with flimsy pretense or mutual understanding: she’s stopping by for a drink, he’s coming over to share notes, they decide to leave work early, he books them conjoining motel rooms. Never has one summoned the other, not like this. Part of her really, really likes it, likes the way his demand makes her stomach swoop. The commanding tone of his request feels primal, possessive. It says you’re mine, and I will fuck you tonight whether you want me to or not.
Surrendering to her baser desires has been so, so easy lately, so when she saw his note, it was natural to consider allowing it one more time. They’ve been opposite soldiers on the battlefield all week. Maybe crossing enemy lines could yield reparations, understanding, an alliance.
No. She should have resisted. She should have remembered all the ways this week has ruined them. Wasn’t it just a few days ago that she met Diana Fowley? That she spied Mulder tenderly holding hands with this mysterious new agent? That she visited the Gunmen, only to learn the true nature of this woman from Mulder’s past? That she left their lair feeling humiliated, betrayed, and replaced? That she swore to herself she’d never sleep with Mulder again?
And she knows why Mulder demanded her company tonight. Although there hasn’t been an obvious pattern to their past hook-ups, she knows he’s using her. It’s part of why they agreed to this arrangement, right? Stress relief, a trusted partner with whom to engage in mutually beneficial safe sex. Completely emotion-free. Strictly platonic. And God knows Mulder has been through the ringer this week. Their office, burned. The X-Files, incinerated. Diana, shot and hospitalized. It makes sense that he’s using her body to drown out his worries, but it makes less sense that she’s just letting him. But . . . but he’s Mulder, and even if he’s been difficult and moody and elusive all week, he smells good and looks good, and she knows the way his tongue feels on her clit, and she knows the way he grins when she tells him she’s coming—
She gasps, returning violently to the present moment as Mulder pulls out all the way and slams his hips back into her. She grits her teeth as pleasure-mixed-with-pain ripples treacherously through her body. She buries her face in the duvet and tries to remind herself that Mulder has visited Diana in the hospital every day this week. In fact, she knows he was there today, because when he answered the door tonight, he still had a visitor’s badge taped to his t-shirt. As soon as she saw the ugly thing, she almost turned around and walked out. She can’t fuck someone who’s interested in someone else, right?
But he had grabbed her by the neck and hauled her into him, and because he’s a beautiful kisser, because his erection was so damn rigid against her jeans, because his breath tasted slightly of alcohol, she caved. He’s using her for sex? She could certainly do the same.
But tonight has been noticeably different than all their past visits. Over the last few weeks, she’s grown to expect Mulder to talk while he’s fucking her. Sometimes sweet, sometimes dirty, sometimes with a flick of his tongue in her ear, sometimes with his lips suctioned around her clit.
But he’s eerily silent tonight. Normally at this point, with sweat breaking out over their bodies and her clit screaming for attention, he’s beginning to move his mouth to her ear, starting to whisper things like good girl, come for me, you feel so fucking good, oh, I’m gonna come, Scully, your body is so sexy.
And yet, he hasn’t even touched her tonight. Usually, there’s long stretches of foreplay before he actually starts to fuck her. Most days, she’s already come once from his fingers or his mouth before he even begins to suggest penetrative sex. But tonight, he went from zero to sixty in a matter of minutes, and with his lack of attention and her growing indignation, her body’s arousal is dipping, dipping, dipping. She’s simply not wet enough for this.
He slams back into her and this time she cries out in real pain. That was too rough, she should say, and any other day, she would raise her head and tell him. And if he were truly in tune with her like normally, he’d notice her discomfort. He’d see the way her muscles are tensing, the way she’s leaning her hips away from him, the way her whimpers are growing more and more distressed.
But instead he just adjusts his grip, grabs her shoulder, and brings his other hand up to her breasts, plucking at her nipples. At first, the change is welcome—he’s touching me!—but then his fingers pinch hard. Too hard. She bites her lip until she tastes blood, but she’s tough, and she refuses to admit that it hurts. Not tonight.
He pounds out a half dozen more strokes then folds over her, his chest slick against her back, his mouth brushing up against her ear. Oh. Okay. Maybe he is going to talk her through her orgasm.
“Close?” he asks on a grunt, and she doesn’t think he’s ever had to ask her that question. Usually by this point, she’s already telling him—both physically and verbally—that she’s nearing her orgasm.
The answer is no, no, she’s not close at all. She’s not going to come tonight, not with Diana Fowley and betrayal and a burned office and a distant partner on the brain.
“Scully?” he prods aggravatedly when she doesn’t answer. He’s gone still inside her and it’s a welcome relief. She’s never been this unresponsive to him, has never had a problem with her arousal around him. Hell, she’s been wet for five years. Tonight, though, he’s just not doing it for her.
But she can’t talk about it. There’s no conversation they could have that would improve the state of their relationship right now. She’s not going to admit to her insecurities around Diana Fowley, and he doesn’t even know the Gunmen revealed their secret dating history. It would be embarrassing—mortifying, really—to admit to such knowledge, to such feelings. So instead, she closes her eyes and nods.
“Yeah.”
He hesitates briefly before lifting off her back and sliding his hands back down to her hips. She bites the inside of her cheek as he pounds into her, five, six, seven, eight times, and then he’s coming. When he slips out and pushes her away onto her side, the breath sputters out of her in gasping relief. Her cunt is aching, and not in a good way. The only fluid down there is Mulder’s semen leaking out of her, and even that stings and itches against her sensitive walls. She squirms uncomfortably for a minute, wondering what he expects from her next. Normally, he tugs her into his chest and holds her for a long time, sometimes so long that she forgets to make an excuse about needing to go home. On more than one occasion, in fact, she’s woken up the next morning to his wandering hands under the sheets and a fresh cup of coffee on the nightstand.
She steals a glance behind her and to her consternation, his eyes are closed, his mouth half-open, his breathing deep and even. The bastard is already, impossibly asleep. Angry, outraged tears collect on her lashes as she realizes she’s been dismissed. There will be no sleepover tonight, no cuddling, no coffee in the morning. Indignantly, she swipes at her wet cheeks. She will not waste tears on this humiliation.  
Moving silently, she collects her things and heads to the bathroom to clean up. A quick glance at her watch tells her it’s not even nine o’clock yet. Jesus Christ, she hasn’t even been here an hour. Somehow, though, it’s been more than enough time for something sick and twisted to curl up in her gut, for a painful ache to weigh down her heart.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Sleeping with Mulder was never supposed to feel demeaning or humiliating. When they came up with this little arrangement, she imagined a lot of things, a whole host of possibilities: great sex, a more intimate bond, a relief to the tension that’s been building and building and building all these years. Of course—because she’s not an idiot—she also considered some the less pleasant outcomes: that the sex would be mediocre, that they wouldn’t “click” in this particular way, that he’d want to call it off after just one try.
But for all the ugly scenarios she did cook up, she never once allowed herself to face the truly terrifying possibilities. She never once imagined herself sneaking out of his apartment after a quick, unsatisfying fuck. She never once envisioned herself crying on the drive home as the twin pillars of shame and resentment took hold in her chest. She never once thought that she would be left broken and hurting after just five weeks of sharing his bed. She never once considered that she would leave his apartment feeling worse about herself than she did upon arrival.
And of course, naïve as she’s been, she never believed there could ever be another woman involved.  
In her car, she slams her fist on the steering wheel. God, why hadn’t she thought of these things? Why hadn’t she considered the possibility that things would go terribly, terribly wrong?
Because you’re in love, a small voice whispers.
She grinds her teeth and grips the wheel tighter, refusing to acknowledge the thought playing at the back of her mind. She will never let herself bring that particular idea to the light. It is dangerous, unwieldy. Being in love with Mulder isn’t an option. The foundation of their sexual arrangement is that the raging tension and chemistry between them is purely sexual. There are no emotions, save for the natural affection and fondness that comes with being partners for five years.
And although she’s always been good at shoving down her emotions, right now, they’re climbing higher and higher in her throat. If she opens her mouth, they just might spill out. Things like love, desire, devotion, passion. Things that are much heavier than friendship. Things that will break them.
Regret surges all around her, and she knows she has made a grave error in judgment. For her own sake, it is clear she needs to end this with him. The persistent flood tears tonight are proof alone that she has gotten too invested, too emotional. The gut-wrenching idea of Diana Fowley lurking in the background is evidence that Mulder never intended for this arrangement to mean anything.
So, she needs to end it.
And yet . . .
And yet, she can’t. Not without alerting him to the fact that she has significant feelings, feelings that he’s crushed to a pulp in just a few weeks.
In the parking lot of her building, she closes her eyes and rests her forehead on the wheel. She shoves past pesky emotions to dig deeper into clarity. So, she can’t end things, but she also can’t sleep with him again. Doing so would break her.
There’s a way to do this, though, a way that doesn’t involve letting onto her feelings or her pain. All she must do is let it fade into the background. Release Mulder to the world, to Diana Fowley, if he wants that woman. Politely refuse his invitations to hang out. Decline to initiate sex on her own. Eventually, someone else—likely a tall brunette with long legs and huge tits—will ensnare him, will entice him, will take him away from her.
Soon, Scully tells herself as she exits the car, he’ll stop coming to her for sex. Soon, they’ll slot back into their old, platonic partnership. Soon, she’ll stop thinking that she loves him.
And soon, she promises herself through gritted teeth, she will forget all the ways he made her feel like he might love her, too.
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blazingstar400 · 2 days
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Incorrect Scarlet and Violet Quotes Part 6
Just everybody’s typical school lives.
[Clavell after catching Juliana, Nemona, and Arven riding Koraidon in the school halls]
Clavell: All of you are in big trouble for not only riding Koraidon in the school’s halls, but for also having three people, a very unsafe number, for riding just one Pokémon!
Nemona: Shoot!
Arven: Wait, three?
Clavell: Yes?
Juliana: OH MY GOSH FLORIAN FELL OFF!!!!
[Florian finally shows up to class after missing a few days]
Jacq: Where have you been?
Florian: Asleep.
Jacq: For four days?
Florian: Yeah.
Clavell: Good job, Arven.
Arven: Thanks, dad.
[Everyone freezes]
Arven: Why is everyone staring at me?
Penny: You just called Director Clavell ‘Dad’. You said ‘Thanks, dad’.
Arven: What? No I didn’t!
Clavell: Do you see me as a father figure, Arven?
Arven: No! If anything I see you more as a bother figure because you’re always bothering me!
Saguaro: Hey! Show your father some respect!
Arven: He’s not my dad!
Juliana: I just find it surprising you attached on to Clavell of all people.
Arven: I didn’t! But even if I did, who else would I attach to?!? Raifort?!
Raifort, who is on the far side of the room reading a book: I really don’t appreciate being brought into this discussion.
Arven: You see?!
Juliana: Hmm.
Clavell: Alright, I believe you.
Arven: Thank you!
Clavell: …Son.
Arven:
Clavell: Do you want to talk about this… over a game of catch?
Arven:
Arven: ……I’d like that…
Juliana: Do you ever just see something that changes your life and you’re just like ‘huh’.
Kieran: I saw you.
Juliana: That’s so nice and sweet and it makes this really awkward because I was just gonna show you this drawing Drayton made of Carmine as a monkey.
[The gang about to head out on a field trip]
Cyrano: Now before we take off make sure that all small things are secure.
Drayton: *leaning over to Kieran*
Kieran: What?
Drayton, smirking: Do you feel safe?
Kieran, through gritted teeth: Stop—!
Kieran: Despite what everyone thinks, I don’t actually hate everyone in this class.
Carmine: Are you sure about that…?
Kieran: Well actually Drayton is completely terrible.
Drayton: Ouch.
Kieran: I dislike Crispin because he’s Crispin.
Crispin: Really bro…
Kieran: Juliana was clearly cheating in the training session yesterday.
Juliana: Wha—
Lacey: Juliana winning isn’t called cheating…!
Kieran: Amarys was being particularly annoying this morning.
Amarys: I just said ‘excuse me’ because you were blocking my way…
Kieran: And Florian said ‘It’s not appropriate to yell at other students.’
Carmine: Soo you hate everyone then?
Kieran: Well maybe if all of you stopped being so irritating I might like you better.
[Geeta and Rika being called into Clavell’s office]
Clavell: Juliana got into a fight today.
Geeta: Is she okay?!
Rika: Did she win?!
Juliana: Just forget about it, no one got hurt.
Miriam: You had a concussion!
Juliana: No one got seriously hurt.
Miriam: You were in the ER for six hours!!
[Dendra when she just became a teacher at Uva/Naranja Academy]
Dendra, waking up in a panic: Shoot, I’m late to class!!!
Dendra, lying back down: Eh, but I already gratulated…
Dendra:
Dendra:
Dendra, sitting back up: Shoot, I’m the teacher!!!
Clavell: Florian, did you happen to hear my announcement?
Florian: I hanged onto every word.
Clavell: I’m going to assume that’s sarcasm.
Florian: Correct.
Clavell: So you didn’t hear my announcement?
Florian: I’m barely listening now.
[Juliana after helping Arven and Kieran study for a upcoming test]
Juliana, beaming: Alright guys, I think you’re both ready for that test!
Arven: Great, I just want to test my knowledge real quick. Give me a word.
Juliana: Oh, okay!
Juliana: Um… what’s a synonym for ‘abandonment’?
Arven: Oh, I know this one!
Arven: My childhood!
Juliana: What—?
Kieran:
Kieran: I was going to say something different but actually I second that.
Juliana:
Juliana, tearing up: Aw, you guys—
Nemona: *actually studies, gets good grades*
Juliana: *doesn’t study, still passes*
Arven: *gets Bs*
Florian: *low Cs, doesn’t care*
Penny: *cheats and gets away with it*
Drayton: *cheats, and gets caught*
Crispin: *gets a B-, and is happy*
[At lunch hour]
Juliana: Arven, we’re hungry!
Nemona: Yeah, Arven, we’re hungry!
Carmine: Hurry up, Arven!
Penny: What’s taking so long, Arven?
Florian: Arven, what’s for lunch?
Arven: *screams*
Kieran: Look, I don’t want to talk about it.
Juliana, pulling out a guitar: Would you rather sing about it?
Kieran:
Kieran: You make it so hard for me not to murder you sometimes—
Juliana: Trust fall!
Clavell, from the other side of the room: I’m not going to catch you.
Juliana: Trust. Fall.
Clavell: No.
Juliana: I’m falling!
Clavell, launching himself over the table to catch her: WAIT—!!
Drayton: What are you doing?
Crispin: Homework.
Drayton: There was school today?
Crispin: *nods*
Drayton: I thought it was a long weekend.
Crispin: It’s Thursday.
Drayton: Oh, it’s almost the weekend. No point in going now.
Jacq: Florian is late again.
Penny: I woke him up at 8 and pretended it was 11.
Nemona: I wrote a fake schedule saying we started at 9 instead of 12.
Juliana: I set his clock to PM instead of AM.
Jacq:
Jacq: You all may have overdone it.
Florian, bursting through the door panicked: WHAT YEAR IS IT?!?!
Tyme, walking into the classroom: Alright, so today— *sees ‘Turn down for —’ written on the board*
Tyme, confused: Turn down for what?
[Suddenly ‘Turn Down for What’ blasts through the speakers as the whole class gets up and begins partying]
The sv gang: TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!
Yes both Geeta and Rika grew so attached that they are practically Juliana’s adopted moms lol.
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the-darkestminds · 22 hours
Text
Autumn's Shadow: Chapter 6
Azriel x Eris (Azriel POV)
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Summary: A covert meeting between Azriel and Eris to exchange valuable intel leaves Azriel reeling—and questioning everything he has ever felt for the Heir of Autumn. Azriel finds himself inexorably drawn to Eris, unable to resist his captivating allure. With the threat of Koschei and Beron looming ever closer, can their forbidden love endure in the face of such danger?
a/n: Pondered over this chapter for a while. I surprised myself by getting all of the editing done over the holiday weekend. Hope you enjoy! As always, this is not canon compliant. (nsfw, 18+)
Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list!
Read on AO3!
Full Chapter List
Chapter 6:
Azriel and Eris met up more than two dozen times over the following five weeks. They were limited in where they could go, due to Eris’s need for secrecy, but they made the best of it.
They explored as much of the Night Court as time would allow. They walked through the forests on the outskirts of Velaris, visited some of Azriel’s favorite spots along the rolling hills and mountains that shielded the city. They flew over the high peaks of Illyria, and Azriel had laughed at how tightly Eris had gripped him as he’d dove low over the lakes and rivers scattered across the Night Court territory. 
They spent little time discussing the threats growing beyond their borders, or those brewing within. As they explored the land they talked of Velaris, of the Autumn Court lands, of music and books and places they hoped to visit one day. Eris spoke fondly of the Lady of Autumn, and Azriel shared some stories of his own mother, how he visited her as often as he could. 
They also spoke of darker things. Eris told Azriel of his childhood and what it had been like to grow up with six brothers who were always fighting and scheming and at each other's throats. He spoke of Lucien, of the guilt he carried at how he’d been mistreated and abused—how much he hoped to repair what was broken between them. The stark honesty had Azriel sharing some of his own horrors as well. He told Eris what it had been like to grow up as his father’s bastard son. How his step brothers had tormented him for it. He told Eris the story of how he had gotten his scars and how the memories still chased him from sleep. Eris had paused at that story—had brushed a soft kiss to Azriel’s hand and squeezed it gently before letting him continue. They quickly got to know each other and soon Eris no longer looked at Azriel with distrust in his eyes. It warmed something deep inside Azriel’s chest.
Though Eris seemed content to be spending time with him, Azriel could still see the shadows that sometimes clouded his eyes. The real Eris was…volatile. His moods gave Azriel whiplash. Some days he was angry and cold. On other days he was playful and snarky and, Cauldron spare him, funny. He found Eris Vanserra to be funny. Azriel didn’t want to admit that he was slowly starting to think of Eris as one of his closest friends. He wanted Eris to feel the same. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted more than that. They didn’t have the centuries of history he had with Rhys and Cassian, but their friendship was something more, though nothing of that nature had happened since they’d met in the Steppes. Azriel didn’t know if it would again. He wasn’t sure if he should be the one to broach the subject.
The worst days were when he looked into Eris’s eyes and saw unbearable pain and despair. He didn’t know what to do when he saw that haunted look on Eris’s face, but his gut told him to leave it alone, for now. It unnerved Azriel, how much he cared. He found himself thinking about it frequently. Found himself dreaming about how he might destroy Beron for every physical and emotional wound he’d ever dealt Eris. 
Eris avoided speaking about his relationship with his father, and Azriel didn’t push. He knew there was little chance of Eris truly opening up to him about it, no matter how much Azriel wished he would. But he wanted…what? To be the one person Eris confided in? The thought was laughable, though deep down he knew it was true. All he could do was be there for him, and on the hard days Eris seemed to appreciate his quiet presence.
Thankfully, today was not one of those days, as Eris seemed to be in relatively high spirits, all things considered. He walked in front of Azriel as they picked their way through the forest along the border of Spring and the human lands. Though Tamlin hadn’t been seen in weeks, and the land seemed unnaturally still, Eris had glamoured them from view as a precaution against prying eyes and ears as they chatted quietly. 
“So you do this every year? And somehow you lost to Cassian, of all people?” Azriel had told him of their Solstice tradition, much to Eris’s amusement. The male seemed utterly bemused that Azriel and his brothers were capable of engaging in something as trivial as a snowball fight.
“It was an off year for me,” Azriel admitted with a smirk, recalling the gigantic ball of slush and ice he had sent flying directly into Rhys’s face. He’d done it at Nesta’s sly request, and had promised to aim true. Though Nesta's relationship with Rhys had improved, and was mostly civil, he knew that under different circumstances neither would have chosen the other as family. Regardless, Rhys could always use a little humbling, and Azriel was happy to provide it.
“I’m trying to imagine attempting such a thing with any of my brothers. I’d probably end up with a knife in the back, or perhaps a rock to the face,” Eris said matter-of-factly. Azriel paused, unsure if the male was joking or not. Another thing they had in common: despicable brothers. Azriel quietly tucked the information away—added those brothers to his list of people he might one day repay for the abuse they’d inflicted upon Eris. “I’m impressed you manage to refrain from doing something similar to Cassian. Perhaps next year you’ll allow me to participate,” he said innocently. Azriel could hear the humor in his voice and rolled his eyes with a sigh. He wondered if there was something more to the hostility between Eris and Cassian. He opened his mouth to ask him directly—
Something slammed into him from behind and he went sprawling face first into the hard ground. Claws pierced his leathers and he felt the skin on his left shoulder prick with blood. A wall of fire swept up above him and the weight on his back disappeared. Azriel jumped up, unsheathing Truth Teller from his back and whirled to face whatever had attacked him. 
What he beheld made his throat go dry with fear. The creature was grotesque. Milky-white, scaled skin covered a somewhat fae-like body—a female body, he realized, as he took in its naked form. Her icy blue eyes were large and lidless as they considered Azriel and Eris with keen interest—or perhaps hunger. Where a nose should have been were two large, slitted nostrils that hissed as the thing sniffed the air and smiled, revealing black, toothless gums and a forked, blood-red tongue. Its hands ended in skin-shredding claws and its head was smooth and hairless.
Azriel and Eris circled it slowly, swords and daggers drawn. It—she—opened her mouth wider, seemingly to speak, and the strange hissing sound was no language Azriel had ever heard. He didn’t dare take his eyes off it to see if Eris thought the same. 
Azriel blinked and it lunged for Eris, claws outstretched, aiming for his throat. Azriel’s shadows speared towards it as he brought Truth Teller up—but Eris winnowed out of the way, directly behind the creature, and stabbed his dagger through its back. The thing shrieked loudly and turned, claws swiping so close to Eris’s chest that the fabric of his shirt was shredded. The beast moved with such speed that Eris and Azriel were forced to work together, ducking and slashing until they were both dripping with sweat from the effort. Eris sent a whip of white-hot flame against its torso, just as Azriel’s shadows speared its exposed back from behind, and then Azriel stepped out of a shadow and sliced Truth Teller out in a wide arc. The creature’s head tumbled to the grassy earth, its body collapsing in a heap of white limbs. A thick, creamy substance leaked from the cuts on its skin and the now-stump of its neck.
Eris and Azriel were both panting from exertion as they looked at the thing that lay dead between them. Azriel had never seen anything like it. It was no creature of the Night Court, of that much he was sure. Eris was confident it had not spawned from Autumn either. He’d report this to Rhys, let him see into his mind, and maybe he’d be able to identify it. Perhaps it had escaped from the Middle?
“You know, you really are a terrible spymaster,” Eris mused as he studied the creature at his feet. Azriel scowled in annoyance, though the male had a point. He’d been sloppy lately, and he was lucky they’d both gotten away with only a few scratches. Still, he did not appreciate the rude assessment.
“Shut up, Eris,” Azriel growled. He was not in the mood for his bratty attitude. He looked up at Eris to tell him just that and saw a spark of humor in those amber eyes. Azriel rolled his own eyes for what felt like the tenth time in an hour and gestured to the creature. “Can you burn it?” Eris tsked, as if offended by the question, and a second later all that remained of the beast was ash and smoking grass. He hadn’t even lifted a finger to do it. Azriel raised his brows and Eris smirked at him.
“If that impresses you, you should see what I can do with my tongue.” Azriel chuckled despite himself, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. That Eris managed to turn every conversation into some kind of crude joke was a skill he’d clearly honed over the centuries. Despite the severity of the situation, Azriel was glad for the male’s infallible snark. It was one of the only things that could draw Azriel out of his head, and though he wouldn’t admit it, he was grateful for the distraction.
The males parted ways, Azriel promising to update Eris on whatever he might learn of the creature from Rhys. Regardless of what his High Lord told him, he knew he’d find an excuse to see Eris again very soon.
***
Azriel landed in the quiet glen near Velaris and waited for Eris to arrive. He’d spent the past week hunting through Prythian for any sign of more creatures like the one that had attacked him and Eris. He’d found nothing. Rhys had cringed when he’d seen the creature in Azriel’s mind, but suspected it was some long lost monster that had escaped from the Middle. Azriel was inclined to agree. He put thoughts of the beast out of his mind for now and focused on the present. His stomach fluttered in anticipation of the plan he intended to propose for the evening.
A minute passed, and there he was. Eris’s pale skin glowed with health once more. The wounds on his back had healed quickly, though the scars remained. His red hair was a silken drape over his shoulder and his amber eyes were bright as he grinned at Azriel. Azriel stifled his sigh of relief—no shadows to be found in his eyes today. 
“I want to try something different tonight,” Azriel began. Eris raised a brow.
“I’m listening.” His eyes glinted with interest.
“Can you glamour yourself? Change your face to appear as someone else?” he asked.
“Yes. Why do you ask?” Eris replied warily.
“Do it. I want to show you the real Velaris tonight, not just the woods and mountains surrounding it.” Azriel held his breath and waited for the dismissal. It was a risk, after all. Perhaps one Eris would not deem worthy of his time, but Eris surprised him.
“Who shall I appear as?” Azriel blinked and he was no longer looking at Eris. Before him stood a female with brown hair and eyes and tanned skin. Azriel’s brows rose in surprise.
“Just alter yourself enough that no one will recognize I’m dining with the heir to the Autumn Court,” he said, amused at how convincing it looked. Another blink and Eris had changed the glamour. His hair was a light chestnut color instead of red and his amber eyes were a dark, murky brown. Even his scent was different.
“Your natural coloring is much nicer,” Azriel said, his voice low. The strange male before him blushed.
“You flatter me, Azriel,” Eris replied dryly. His voice was rougher too, not the deep, smooth tone Azriel had grown used to. 
Azriel smiled, grabbed Eris’s hand and swept them into the beating heart of the city. 
***
They spent the evening strolling through the busy streets of Velaris. The city was alive with color and movement and cheer. People shopped and dined and chatted happily and Azriel let himself get swept up in it. He took Eris through the Rainbow, showed him the Palaces and let him peruse a handful of shops selling trinkets and spelled artifacts. They dined in one of Azriel’s favorite restaurants overlooking the city. He would’ve liked to enjoy the night with Eris in the flesh, as it was jarring to glance over and see a stranger sitting before him, but if he looked closely, he could see Eris in the glint of his eyes, the smirk on his lips, the courtly arrogance he wore like a second skin.
When they were finished eating they sat in peaceful silence, content to take in the nightlife around them. Azriel watched Eris watch the city, his eyes swirling with some emotion Azriel couldn’t place. The glamour made it difficult to decipher Eris’s usual expressions, though even without it he still struggled to read the male.
“What are you thinking?” he asked. Eris didn’t look at him, though Azriel felt it as he slid a shield of hard air around them so they could speak freely without fear of being overheard. Eris leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table in front of him.
Eris waved a hand, gesturing to the twinkling city below them. “The City of Starlight.” Eris’s voice held a touch of resentment, though his face remained impassive. “The famed city for which Rhysand debased himself. I can’t help but wonder what might’ve happened if he’d used his power in those brief moments to stop her, rather than shield all of this.”
“He did it to protect us,” Azriel said sharply. His family never spoke of what Rhys had done to keep Amarantha distracted, and to hear it referred to so casually was jarring. “Don’t think he didn’t suffer for it.” And yet, Azriel had sometimes wondered the same thing, and hated himself for even thinking it. He’d been lucky, unlike so many others, that he had not been locked under that mountain. He would never stop being grateful for what Rhys had done for them. His brother had used those final seconds before his power had been stifled to hide Velaris from Amarantha. He’d tied Azriel, and Cassian and Mor and Amren, to the wards he’d erected around the city so that they were unable to leave without revealing its existence to the rest of Prythian. 
Eris nodded faintly. “I don’t doubt that. We all suffered,” he said calmly.
“Is that why you hate us all so much?” Azriel asked coldly, even as dread and shame warred within him, turning his stomach. “Because we were here, safe, while you and your Court suffered?” He’d hated himself plenty for that exact reason. He suspected Mor and Cassian had felt the same. They had all withdrawn within themselves during those years, Azriel more than any of them, and each passing day his resentment of the city, and of himself, had grown until it threatened to choke him. Velaris was his home, and yet sometime during those 50 years it had started to feel like a prison.
Eris turned back to Azriel, eyes softening slightly as he studied his face. “Perhaps I merely find you all rather insufferable with this ‘court of dreamers’ nonsense,” he said wryly. Azriel rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He needed to hear him say it—needed to know if some part of Eris truly did still hate him. Eris sighed and glanced back out over the city. “No. If anything I’m glad this place remained untouched. I wish more of Autumn had fared the same.” Eris faced him once more, his head tilting. “Is that what you’ve thought all this time?” Eris was looking at him too intently for his liking, as if he could see right through the cold mask he wore. Azriel shrugged and looked away, not wanting Eris to see the pathetic turn his thoughts had taken.
He took in the boisterous crowd around him, loud with laughter and conversation and music. While most patrons avoided his gaze, others stared at him unabashedly with varying degrees of fear and awe. He did his best to appear unassuming and aloof, though it was difficult to go unnoticed. There were very few in Velaris who didn’t know who he was. He briefly met the gaze of a young female, eyes as black as night. She stared at him intently, unblinking, enough that he felt momentarily uneasy. Had the shield dropped? But he blinked and she had already turned away.
“This conversation has gotten too morose for my liking,” Eris said, drawing Azriel’s attention once more. He was smiling again, and Azriel’s blood heated at how handsome he looked in the fading light, the sky a pink and orange painting behind him. Eris angled his head, eyes glinting with humor. “So. Is it true what they say? The bigger the wingspan the bigger the cock?” Azriel gaped at Eris, utterly shocked at the crassness and absurdity of the question. And then he burst out laughing, all thoughts of guilt and suffering chased away by the fiery male before him.
***
As their night was finally winding down, they walked back through the streets, sleepier now in some parts, only just coming alive in others. They strolled in peaceful silence and had just reached Azriel’s apartment building when he heard someone call his name in greeting. His head snapped forward, and his heart began to race as he saw Lucien Vanserra coming up the stone path before him. Eris tensed beside him, as still as a statue. 
“Lucien,” Azriel said tightly and nodded once. He and Lucien were not close, and likely never would be, but he respected the male and tried to find something to say that was both polite and would send him on his way, immediately.
Lucien glanced at Eris and his eyebrow quirked.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked innocently, though Azriel thought he saw a knowing twinkle in his russet eye. Azriel stared at Lucien blankly, and then glanced at Eris. Shit. They hadn’t planned to actually speak to anyone, let alone formulate a backstory for Eris’s glamoured identity. 
Eris replied, “Cormac. A pleasure.” The words were stiff and awkward. Lucien smiled politely. No one spoke for several seconds and Azriel cringed inwardly. Lucien cleared his throat.
“Well, you two enjoy the rest of your night. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Azriel,” Lucien said smoothly. He inclined his head slightly and Azriel wished him well. Just as he breezed past Eris, and they thought they were in the clear, he turned and said dryly, “You know, you remind me a lot of my oldest brother. It’s the strangest thing.” He winked, and then continued down the pathway.
Eris and Azriel exchanged bemused looks. Eris let the glamour drop as Azriel pulled him into his apartment building, and then he started laughing in earnest. His shoulders shook with the force of it and Azriel couldn’t help but join in. He’d never seen or heard Eris truly laugh before. He was exquisite. Azriel’s chest squeezed with emotion at the sight of him so unrestrained and he rubbed a hand over his heart as if to calm it. Eris was beautiful, and Azriel wasn’t sure if Eris knew it. So he told him. Eris’s laugh faded and he beamed at Azriel, eyes glowing with amusement. 
“Do you want to come up?” Azriel held his breath as he let the question hang. If Eris declined, he’d be fine. He’d had a nice night. It was one of the best he could remember in a long time. When Eris nodded, Azriel’s knees nearly wobbled in relief. He took Eris’s hand and let the shadows carry them upstairs. 
***
Eris slowly took in the room around him. The last time he had been here he’d been delirious with blood loss and pain. Now his eyes were clear as he inspected Azriel’s space, likely noting the lack of photos or personal affects. Azriel watched him. It was strange—to see someone as vibrant and powerful as Eris in such an ordinary setting. Eris was made for grand ballrooms and elegant thrones, not this small one-bedroom apartment in a sleepy, forgotten corner of Velaris.
Eris turned and sat stiffly on the edge of the large bed, gazing heatedly at Azriel. His usual swagger was gone, and Azriel realized the male was nervous. It made him feel better about the way his heart was leaping out of his chest. He approached him slowly, wings shifting restlessly. He wanted this badly. 
He decided not to let his own fear hold him back.
Azriel bent down and brushed his lips against the hard line of Eris’s jaw. He drew back and looked into those molten amber eyes—let Eris see the question in his own. He placed his hand over Eris’s heart and felt it pounding into his palm.
Eris hesitated, that guarded look still flickering in his eyes. And then he nodded slowly, and relief shuddered down Azriel’s spine. He slowly relieved Eris of his jacket and shirt, and then his shoes, and then pushed on his bare chest gently until the male laid back against the crisp white pillows on the bed. There were no snide remarks, no smirks, only the nervousness that Azriel desperately wished to wipe off his face. 
His lips brushed along the long column of Eris’s throat as he leaned over him again, both hands on either side of his hips. Azriel felt the hard knot in Eris’s throat move against his mouth as he swallowed. Could feel his pulse pounding faster. 
He pulled back slightly to scan his face again and Eris’s gaze threatened to burn him. He brushed his lips against Eris’s mouth and he opened for him instantly. Azriel’s tongue swept in and heady desire flowed through his veins like lava. He couldn’t get enough—wasn’t sure it would ever be enough—and he devoured each caress of Eris’s tongue like a man starved.
And then Azriel was trailing kisses down Eris’s chest, his stomach, as he deftly unfastened the ties of his pants, tugged them down and tossed them aside. He ran his fingers along the band of Eris’s tight briefs and the male tensed in anticipation. Azriel trailed his thumb over the hard bulge straining against the fabric and Eris’s hips jerked. 
Azriel slowly removed those, too. 
He straightened and took in the beautiful male laid bare before him. Eris’s body looked like it had been sculpted by an artist—all hard lines and perfectly chiseled muscle wrapped in creamy pale skin, though Eris had no shortage of scars. Azriel drank him in—let his eyes wander south and felt his skin burning hot as he saw the considerable evidence of Eris’s arousal. Eris flushed bright red under Azriel’s leisurely perusal of his body. He was beautiful—every scarred inch of him. Azriel’s chest tightened with emotion. He knew he was quickly falling for Eris. He had felt it happening and could do nothing to stop it. Didn’t want to stop it.
He finally dragged his gaze back up to meet Eris’s molten stare. He had never seen the male look so vulnerable, and Azriel found that he liked it. A lot. His handsome face was flushed, his full lips swollen and red. Eris had a natural grace about him that Azriel found so captivating and alluring, and so at odds with his own rigid exterior that sometimes he couldn’t believe any of this was real. That Eris had chosen him—desired him. 
Azriel wrapped his shadows around those thick thighs dusted with red hair and spread them ever so slightly so he could kneel between them. He let his lips drag along the inside of Eris’s thigh, his hips, biting and kissing the skin there softly. His shadows snaked their way up Eris’s body, caressing and teasing until the male was panting beneath him, the tip of his cock leaking as his body trembled at every touch.
Eris moaned at the first lick of Azriel’s tongue. The shadows curled at the sound and the room darkened around them. He gently trailed his tongue over the seam of his balls, tight and full. Eris shuddered, his breath coming faster. Azriel slowly licked the male from base to tip, his tongue swirling around the head of his cock. He tasted Eris on his tongue and felt his own cock stiffen further in response. 
“Az,” Eris breathed. Azriel’s wings twitched at the sound of his name whispered from those lips. He’d never heard Eris call him by his nickname. He liked it so much that he sucked the broad head into his mouth, letting his shaft slide between his lips as he swallowed him down fully. Or as much as he could swallow. Eris was huge. He added a hand to his base to squeeze what he couldn’t fit down his throat. Eris moaned again and the sound had Azriel unleashing himself. 
He worshiped Eris with his mouth. Swirled his tongue around the swollen tip and took him deep in his throat as his hand pumped in time with the movement. The male thrusted his hips subtly with each bob of Azriel’s head, as if he didn’t want to hurt him but couldn’t resist his own lust. Azriel gripped his hips with both hands and dragged him deeper. Eris groaned and let his hand fall to Azriel’s head, fingers curling tightly in his hair. Eris’s chest glistened with sweat as he lost himself in the pleasure, thrusting hard into Azriel’s mouth. And Azriel met each thrust, swallowed him down greedily. The sight of Eris so undone had Azriel nearly spilling himself into his own pants.
Eris’s movements became frantic with need, and Azriel took him deeper, moaning against the hard length of his cock. He loved the slide of all that long proud steel against his tongue, down his throat. He continued working his hand and mouth in unison as his thrusts grew more desperate. His hands fisted in Azriel’s dark hair, and the painful tug sent pleasure skittering down his spine. Azriel gave his shaft another tight squeeze and sucked his lips over the tip. The male groaned, overcome with mindless need. 
Eris’s hips bucked and he let out a guttural moan as he spilled himself down Azriel’s throat. Azriel swallowed every drop, feeling lightheaded from the heady taste of him, his own cock straining painfully against his zipper. Azriel stroked him gently as he rode out each wave of pleasure. When Eris had finally stopped shaking, Azriel kissed the glistening head of his cock softly and then stood. His eyes met Eris’s, lids heavy with contentment. There was a glazed look on his face as he reached his hand out to Azriel, to touch him, pleasure him in return, but Azriel only pulled the blanket over his naked, glistening body, kissed him softly on the lips and let the shadows sweep in and gently coax him to sleep. Only once his breathing had deepened and Azriel was sure he was fast asleep did he slide in behind Eris and curl his body around him. Eris was always warm, and Azriel liked being close to him. Soon he, too, drifted off to sleep. 
Only much later would he realize it was the first time in centuries he had slept deeply enough to wake long after the sun had already risen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Tag List: @unanswered-stars @futurehunt
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samgirl98 · 2 days
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Mending a Family 39/?
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What's this, two chapters in one day? Your comments gave me inspiration to write faster, so here's a second chapter as thanks
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Jason snorted at the corny flyer he had just put up on the coffee shop’s bulletin board. What was even his afterlife?
Jason sighed and put down the few flyers he had left.
After his heart-to-heart with Jazz, Jason decided to try to fill his days (and lack of a complete family) with other hobbies.
Roy suggested that he pick up new hobbies.
“Maybe archery, Jaybird. I could teach you!”
Jason had scrunched his nose at that. He respected Roy, he did, but guns and bazookas were more Jason’s style.
(Not to mention, Bruce had ingrained Green Arrow disrespect deep in his bone.)
“Maybe start with something you already like. How about a book club?” Raven had suggested. “Find other like-minded people to discuss books with.”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Roy said as he ate some of the brownies Jason had baked. “Then you can leave me alone about how the gothic elements of Wuthering Heights contribute to the selfish love between Heathcliff and Catherine and how Brontë showed their twisted love through the environment.”
“That’s because she did, you uncultured swine.”
Roy had smiled, a piece of brownie stuck between his teeth.
So here Jason was, putting up flyers for a book club. He had asked Ghost Writer if he could host it in his bookstore.
“Of course you can, Jay! I would be delighted. Oh, that means I have to set up a little area so that members have a place to sit. Maybe I can order some refreshments. Oh, do you know which book you want to start with? I can place the order.”
Ghost Writer’s words became muffled as he went deeper into the store.
Jason had designed the flyer and decided to put up a few in different shops and restaurants after getting permission from the owners. He doubted many people would show up, but at least one other person who had Jason’s love of literature would be nice.
Jason looked at the time and decided he had enough time to pick up Danny and relax at the coffee shop. He ordered a coffee and a chocolate croissant and sat down where he could watch the bulletin board. He saw a few people reading the flyer. Most of them were older or middle-aged women, with one or two guys thrown into the mix.
After keeping an eye out for a while, Jason felt pleased as punch that he would have a few people at his new book club come Tuesday. He couldn’t wait.
Soon after he left, a certain blond showed up and read the flyer. She took a picture of it, ordered her latte, and left.
____
Raven felt him before she saw him.
“Batman, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
She was alone in a rarely empty Titan Tower. Everyone else was either out or staying somewhere else.
“You know where Jason is,” he stated.
“Maybe. Why do you need to know?”
Raven turned and stared at white-out eyes glaring back at her. She could see how Batman could be terrifying, but she had fought against her father, Trigon. Batman was just a man to her. A man who was in emotional pain. She hardened her heart. She knew what Jason was also feeling, and most of the emotional hurt was caused by the man before her.
“I know Roy Harper is in contact with Jason. However, neither Dick nor I can find how he can travel to wherever Jason is without any vehicle. I did find something interesting, though.”
“Please, do share, Batman.”
“Whenever he goes, there is a surge of your signature power, and most of the time, you are also gone. I can’t seem to trace where your power signature ends up, and I only find out when you’re back because there’s a surge here on the West Coast. So, don’t try to deny you know where my son is.”
“Truly, you are a great detective. I don’t deny it; I know where Jason is. That doesn’t mean you’ll get his address from me.”
Batman glared at her.
“I wasn’t here to ask where he is,” he said through gritted teeth. Raven raised an eyebrow as she sensed the truth of Batman’s statement.
“Then why are you here, Bruce Wayne?”
Batman’s glare deepened, and he scowled when he heard his civilian name. Then, with some hesitation, he took off his cowl. Before Raven was a strong and formidable man, but one with deep bruises in his eyes from lack of sleep. One who’s shoulders curved under an invisible weight.
Bruce took out a recorder that was still in its original packaging.
“I know you can sense when someone is lying to you. There are no trackers, tracers, or anything else in this recorder that can lead me to Jason. I want to send my son a message; I want to apologize.”
Raven raised an eyebrow, incredulous.
“You expect me to believe that you gave up trying to hunt Jason down like a rabid animal?”
Bruce flinched at Raven’s choice of words. Good, he deserved it.
“You tell me. Am I lying to you?”
“There are ways to trick my senses. I do not doubt that the man with a plan for everything doesn’t know how to circumvent my powers.”
Bruce let out a weary sigh.
“The man who has raised me, who is like a father to me, has chewed me out a few times about Jason. I am not an easy man to get along with. I’m stubborn, and I have control issues; I know that, but I love all of my children. However, I tend to do more damage than good when I think I know what’s best for them. That can lead to fights—to estrangement. I’m sure you remember Dick when he was younger.”
Raven nodded. Dick had been a ball of fury and resentment.
“I want to tell Jason that I see the error I have made. I shouldn’t have pushed him out of the family. That was my fault. However, I also want to let him know even if he doesn’t want to speak to me now or ever, I will always be here, but I will respect his boundaries.”
Raven stared at Bruce. She felt no lies. This could be good for both Bruce and Jason. She sighed in resignation.
“Let’s get comfortable, shall we? I don’t promise Jason will hear what you have to say, but I can give him the recording.”
She held out her hand, and Bruce Wayne gave her the recorder. They sat down opposite each other. Raven opened the recorder.
“Let’s begin,” and she pressed play.
Bruce apologizing? What's the world coming to?
Anyway, I have a question for you guys. Do you want Avril and Jason to become kinda friends with a friendly rivalry and let them bond over books, or would you rather they stay enemies? Let me know in the comments. I could write it either way.
DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NEVER READ WUTHERING HEIGHTS, SO IF THAT PART DOESN'T MAKE SENSE, LET ME KNOW. I JUST GOT THAT OFF THE INTERNET!
Thanks for sticking by me so long!
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assfamine · 8 months
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Edwin Deakin (1838-1923)
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tracle0 · 1 year
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New love language, signs of trust
#I watched a video about love languages recently which was very good and insightful#about how the five ones we have were. Just made up entirely. Love doesn't have to be demonstrated in any one quantifiable way#just saw two butterflies chasing each other outside hang on#anyway yeah so this psychologist (?) just. Made up five ways of expressing love and tried to fit everyone into this system#and then it got capitalised on to be board games or books or whatever#but like#it's not like that!!!!!!!!#I had a friend for a while who asked me to do a quiz to find out your love language. mine came through as quality time#so they tried to spend a lot of time with me to prove they loved me. But got upset because I didn't give words of affirmation#and they felt unloved#but like. Mm. how do I phrase this#if you spend more quality time with someone you're more likely to hear words of affirmation BECAUSE you're around them more yknow!#they're not meant to be separate from each other!!!#Every single one of us probably lies somewhere in each of the definitions#and then also outside them as well! How do you best like to be loved can depend entirely on the day!#I know that being trusted by someone feels good for me. Or. To violate that and not trust me to express myself or whatever#just turns me off a relationship so quickly#hence the friend I mentioned previously and I. Moving past each other. Because for a long time it felt like they didn't trust me#when I told them I do like spending time with you. And because they didn't trust me I stopped enjoying spending time with them#love has a lot of thoughts rattling in my head today I think. It's just a thought. Please enjoy
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alienzil · 7 months
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Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?
Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.
Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.
Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."
Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"
Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.
Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."
Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!
He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.
Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.
He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.
He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).
He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.
He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.
He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).
All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.
Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.
Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).
Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).
So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.
Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."
Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏
Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."
With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.
After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.
Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.
The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.
Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"
Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"
Bruce: "Sure."
Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.
Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"
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cherry-leclerc · 6 months
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lolita ☆ cs55
genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature
word count: 14.9k
You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding. 
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.  
inspired by this and this !
STOP AND READ:
This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).
cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY. 
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She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground. 
He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.
But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began. 
Where Paradise met Hell.
-
Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.
They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew. 
You liked them older.
Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.
And that’s a story for later.
-
Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.
Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.
And your older sister, Ollie? 
Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one. 
Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.
Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good. 
Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped. 
“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”
Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.
“Papi, how are you?”
Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.
“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”
You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?
You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.
“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”
-
It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.
Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.
Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?
“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”
Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.
Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-
“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”
Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.
Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room. 
He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. 
“I am so, so, sorry.”
Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume. 
Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down. 
“That’s not a nice thing to say.”
And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”
Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.
“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”
Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between. 
“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”
Wait.
“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”
No, no, no.
“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”
Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?
What was so fucking special about her?
Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man. 
Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest. 
“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you. 
-
It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that. 
Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze. 
“How’s school?”
Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”
The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming. 
Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain. 
“What do you do for work?”
“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.” 
You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair. 
“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”
Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.
“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”
The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”
“I might.”
Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”
You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.
-
You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities. 
Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”
He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.
“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”
He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”
It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over. 
“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”
“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”
7 years.
Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”
“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”
Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.
“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”
He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.
“Calling him wh- Papi?”
He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again. 
“Forget it. How would I know?”
-
Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless. 
Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.
Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.
“Not having fun?”
Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.
“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.
“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night. 
“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights. 
You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.
“You know the groom or the bride?”
“Bride.”
He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.
Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.” 
“It is. Thank you for caring.”
He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”
“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”
He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it. 
“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”
Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.
“See you around?”
“See you around, Maxie.”
Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.
The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”
“Nothing that should concern you.”
His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.
“Right. Have a good night.”
-
Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all. 
So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.
Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place. 
“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”
“Ouch.”
Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.
Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be. 
“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”
Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke. 
“When was this taken?”
“The day of our engagement.”
You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you. 
Fuck her, honestly. 
“Why’d you propose?”
He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?
“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware -  and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”
Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults? 
He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words. 
You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you. 
Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”
“You should leave.”
You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff. 
“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”
Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought. 
He’s fucked. 
-
The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along. 
“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room. 
It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back. 
Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you. 
The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight. 
His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete. 
His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion. 
Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps. 
“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?
“Woah there. Are you okay?”
Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law. 
“What are you doing up so late?”
Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs. 
“First time?”
“No. It’s just been a while.”
You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns. 
“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”
And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes. 
His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly.��
“You know what you remind me of?”
You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips. 
“A Lolita.”
A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin. 
The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.
A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home. 
-
More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce. 
Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.
“Are you okay?”
Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up. 
“Why’d you do it?”
Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue. 
“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”
Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-
His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.
He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello. 
“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”
His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips. 
“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”
Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.
“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.
Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling. 
“Take care, Carlos.”
-
It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.
“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”
You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”
Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure.”
“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”
The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.
“What are we talking about?”
“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.
“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”
Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”
“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”
Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other. 
“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”
“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.
Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular. 
“The fuck - Are you crying?”
“What do you want?”
She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”
Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.
“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”
You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience. 
But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?
She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away. 
“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”
We probably shouldn’t-
Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.
“You and him…”
She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.” 
“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”
If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.
But now you did.
“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”
-
Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.
Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.
“How are we all doing?”
They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.
Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.
Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.
“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”
Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”
You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”
“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.
“Not a word of this to Carlos.”
“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”
Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”
“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”
“He won’t believe you…”
She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”
“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”
Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you. 
“Are you okay?” 
Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.
“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”
“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”
Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”
-
If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this? 
You hated her.
You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.
Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.
“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”
You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.
“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”
“Thank you,” you blush.
Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”
“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”
“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.
“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”
Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”
Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?
“I always find you alone.”
You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.” 
“Ah. I see.” 
You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”
“About?”
“Marrying a monster.”
He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”
“You were thinking of quitting?”
He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”
It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.
Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow. 
“Want to dance?”
“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”
“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”
Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”
His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.
“Mentirosa.”
“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully. 
The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…
His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap. 
Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.
“Goodnight, Carlos.”
-
Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie. 
He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely. 
“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”
Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.
“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.” 
He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins. 
Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!
The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.
Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.
With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches. 
“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”
Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.
As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast. 
“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.” 
True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps. 
“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”
-
Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red. 
Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.
“Boo!”
“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”
“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.
“You’re fucked up.”
Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”
“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”
He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.
“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”
He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”
Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.
Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.
“Fucking delicious.”
Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe. 
“Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of cours-s-e.”
Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.
“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”
The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action. 
“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”
Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.
Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.
“Do you-”
“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”
If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it. 
His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.
“How about mine?”
He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you. 
He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.
You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.
“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”
Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss. 
“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”
“You know it’s always been for you.”
With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.
“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”
His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”
Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out. 
“Let’s start off with something else then.”
You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place. 
“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”
“Yes.”
His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck. 
Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria. 
“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.
And that was only going to multiply.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”
No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.” 
His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.
“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”
Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.
He adds a fourth digit.
“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride. 
“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”
He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax. 
Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.
This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening. 
Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.
Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.
Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.
Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.
His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser. 
Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.
The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.
Light of my life. Fire of my loins.
Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips. 
“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”
When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release. 
Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more. 
Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths. 
“Will you fuck me now?” 
You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.
“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”
“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”
In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.
“Then you should be fucked as such.”
With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.
First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.
I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.
Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.
“Oh God.”
Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.
“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment. 
Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets. 
The keys for the gate to Heaven.
Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.
“Does that feel good, bonita?” 
Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours. 
In this moment; he looked immortal.
“Carlos, I’m gonna-”
“Hold it.”
Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”
You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear. 
He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.
“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”
It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex. 
Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.
He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-
“I will.”
-
When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”
Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.
“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”
-
There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.
You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-
“You may now kiss the bride!”
Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.
You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.
“Nice ceremony.”
“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”
He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”
“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right? 
The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.
Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.” 
“Good to know.”
“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”
“Like you care.”
She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”
No.
“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”
It can’t be. 
Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.
Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”
She knows. He told her. And they still got married. 
“Ollie, don’t…”
Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.
“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”
Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?
“Ollie, please…I love him.”
Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”
Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by. 
Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.
You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.
“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?” 
Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.
“Carlos!”
Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake. 
“Coming.”
-
Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.
“¿Bonita?”
Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?
Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists. 
As red as your dress.
He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.
“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey.  C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.
“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.” 
But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore. 
A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene. 
None of it mattered anymore.
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frost-queen · 3 months
Text
My mortal flaw (Reader x Zuko)
Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya
Summary: Reader is a watertribe princess, intended to marry Prince Zuko as an offering of peace between the nations. Zuko never wanted you as his wife and finds you a weakness. A weakness he never saw coming. Upon the discovery of the Avatar, you try to sneak away, only to be discovered by Zuko leading to an arguement. At Kyoshi island you find an escape with Sokka and Katara which makes Zuko derranged and furious. Doing anything in his power to get you back. Finally realizing he might love you. [ part 2 & part 3 & part 4 ]
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There were loud knocks on the door to your cabin. It made you lift your head up. You didn’t respond immediate as the next following knocks turned into banging. – “Gentle, gentle.” – you heard a muffled voice speak from the other side. There was a deep sigh, followed by a gentle knock. Almost too gentle. – “Yes.” – you responded having kind of clue of who was at the other side.
“Are you done staying inside?” – It was Prince Zuko speaking at the other end. – “No.” – you responded hearing Zuko barely loose his temper on the other end. – “Calm, calm now nephew.” – you recognized it was Iroh’s voice, soothing the prince’s temper.
You heard some movements till Zuko’s temper took over. – “Then perish inside!” – he yelled at the door as you saw the light of flames through the cracks. Jumping up you went up to the door. – “I will!” – you shouted back in frustration. There was a loud groan with a hard stomp against your door. Startling you away from the door.
Footsteps died out It made you near the door again, holding your ear against it. Once the storm had passed, you exhaled deep. You knew you couldn’t stay in your cabin. It wasn’t deliberately, but you sometimes wanted to avoid Zuko.
Almost at every occasion were you forced together in close proximity. The waterbending princess promised to him. A peace treaty between nations. Honestly you didn’t know what possessed Fire lord Ozai to accept your father’s proposition of simply handing you over on a silver platter to his son.
Being on Zuko’s ship for almost four years now, you had a bit of a clue. Perhaps the fire lord accepted it, to taunt Zuko more. A way of shaming him further against his nation. Water and fire weren’t meant to be together. It was an extra nudge to keep Zuko out of the fire nation. If he wasn’t so bad tempered you might feel sympathy for him.
Opening the door, you decided to head out. Probably the first in days. You missed the ocean breeze, the salty water, the cold, the moon. You missed everything that felt close to you. Looking cautiously around for Zuko, you snuck your way up to the deck. Feeling the breeze on your skin, you inhaled deep. Composed you went to the railing, holding tight to it. Feeling the rocking of the ship on the water, you leaned back to take it in.
With a satisfying breath, you looked up to the moon. The deck was mostly empty. Most soldiers below deck. Playing some cards or drinking. It was a bit too quiet as you missed the buzzing life of your village. Leaning with your chin on your arms by the railing, you stared into the water. Wondering how your tribe was doing without your presence.
“What are you doing here?” – A loud voice raged. You jumped up, startled to bone. Turning your posture a bit, you saw Zuko braising as he came your way. You rolled your eyes at him. – “Make up your mind where you want me.” – you replied raising your voice a bit as well. Zuko puffed up his chest with anger, standing face to face with you. His hands radiating heat. His gaze scanning yours. He hated how vulnerable your gaze was. Soft and mesmerizing as the moon.
A wind picked up from the east as it made you shiver. Zuko noticed it, observing you. – “Fetch the princess a blanket!” – he yelled without a glance away from you. From behind Zuko at the other side, you saw a soldier rush to get you a blanket. You tilted your head a bit. – “Your uncle isn’t looking.” – you told him.
Knowing he only showed kindness when his uncle forced him to be civil. – “I know.” – Zuko responded with a soft glare. The soldier returned with a blanket as Zuko snatched it from his hands. He rose his hands, intending to place the blanket over your shoulders as he stopped himself. He caught himself being nice. Showing a weakness, he couldn’t afford.
He brought his hands back to his chest, throwing the blanket at you. You caught it when it hit your chest. – “How gentle of you.” – you said sarcastic, putting the blanket over your shoulders. Zuko huffed loud as he staid in your presence. Close as it made you uncertain at this point. What was he still doing around you? He never staid this long around you. Not if it wasn’t forced on him.
There was a rumble in the sky followed by a strong gush of air. It knocked you right against Zuko’s chest. His hand subtle on your back as the wind kept blazing through. Zuko’s eyes lit up, lowering his hand on you. From the corner of your eye, you saw a bright blue light.
Making you turn around to bestow upon the beam of light in the sky. – “What is that?” – you asked a bit nervous and frightened. Unconsciously you leaned back, coming in touch with Zuko’s chest. Zuko stepped back as you felt the loss of touch. He started ordering commands to his crew to set coarse to the beam of light. It might be a clue for his search for the Avatar.
The ship neared the village of the southern water tribe. It cracked the ice open when it steered frontal through it. The village nearing. Zuko stood on deck. Uncle Iroh a step behind him to the side. You stood beside Zuko, your fiancé. With worry, you looked up to him. – “Stay on the ship.” – he said firm, keeping his hands behind his back. – “but…” – you started. – “Stay here!” – Zuko yelled at you, making you gulp nervously. – “Zuko!” – Iroh called out.
“Show the princess some kindness.” – he told him with a soft glare. Zuko breathed with a scoff. He lowered himself a bit to speak to you like a he would do to a little child. – “That’s an order from your prince.” – he made clear. Something you caught in his eyes, made you see a smidge of desperation in him. Did he perhaps think you’d stay here with the people of your own kind?
That once you left the ship, they’d see you as a prisoner and claim you as theirs? Before you could think of it more, had Zuko turned away. Zuko accepted his helmet from one of his men, following them. Iroh came joining your side as you watched Zuko and his men descend onto the ice. – “Best to stay out of a fight, princess.” – he said to you.
Being on the ship was boring. You hardly had any sight of what was happening down at the village. You saw flashes of fire as you hoped Zuko wouldn’t burn down the village. It was small. Smaller than any village you had known. You had lost sight of Iroh. He was probably up on the high deck to overlook the happening. A gush of wind made you bring your hands up to protect your face. – “An airbender?” – you questioned.
Hadn’t they gone instinct? For over a hundred years there haven’t been an airbender. – “The Avatar!” – you heard the soldiers shout in unison. – “The Avatar.” – you gasped in shock. Looking up, you knew Iroh’s eye was on Zuko. As it always was. You duck down, rushing to the railing. Below the ice had cracked where the ship had broken through.
Grabbing the railing, you jumped over it, swaying your hand up. A trail of water spiralled up, flowing around you as it slowed your descend. Your feet hit the ice as the water splashed on the ice. Ignoring Zuko’s order, you needed to see it for yourself.  Keeping yourself low to avoid Iroh spotting you, you snuck up in haste to the village.  
You neared the entrance of the village, eyes wide with shock of what you saw. People running around. The soldiers causing fires to scare them into handing over the Avatar. You snuck into the village trying to look for the Avatar. A deranged fire blast went your way as it hit an igloo near you. The impact made you duck down, receiving some exploded ice on your back.
“It isn’t save here!” – A boy called out, taking your hand as he pulled you away from the burning igloo. He came to a stop, taking a moment to fully look at you. – “Who are you?” – he asked, still holding your hand. You panicked pulling your hand out of his and taking a run for it. – “Hey!” – the boy called out coming after you.
He knew everyone from his village, yet you were unfamiliar. He got stopped in his tracks by fire. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his sister. – “Katara hide!” – he shouted with a wave of his arm. You came to a stop seeing the Avatar in the air. Never did you think you’d see the Avatar.
Your gaze got pulled away by a hard pull on your wrist. Forcing you to look another way. Zuko’s way. – “You ignored my order!” – Zuko shouted at you, tugging hard on your wrist. You tried pulling your wrist out of his grip as he held it tight. – “I’m not your soldier!” – you yelled back at him. Zuko glared at you. – “Get back to the ship!” – he ordered with anger. – “I will stay!” – you stood your ground, not wanting to leave. – “Y/n! Get. To. The. Ship.” – he repeated trying to compose himself.
Feeling himself boil with anger over you. Angry that you deliberately ignored his order. You pulled your wrist out of his grip with force. – “I didn’t sign up for this!” – you replied with fury. – “For what?” – Zuko fired back. – “These are my people Zuko!” – you told him. – “I just want the Avatar!” – he responded. In the corner of his eye, he saw a spear heading your way. Zuko tensed his jaw, grabbing you as he tackled you to the ground. Rolling over in the snow as the spear flew over your heads.
You laid in the snow, feeling Zuko half on top of you. His hand protective on your head. He pulled you up as he created fire, bending it towards the tribe member who threw the spear at you. – “Zuko!” – you called out, pushing his arm down. – “The ship now!” – Zuko yelled with a rage unlike you had ever seen. Before you knew it, grabbed two of his men you by the arms. Dragging you out of the village back to the ship.
**
“Stay with the princess!” – Zuko ordered one of his men. They bowed as a response. – “Don’t let her out of your sight.” – he added tracking up the hill. Iroh right behind him. You followed in line as Zuko lead the expedition to capture the Avatar. Having been spotted on Kyoshi island. – “The Avatar is mine.” – Zuko said out loud.
Up on the hill was a bright blue light shining. Hinting the Avatar was up there. Up ahead you saw a water tribe girl take a stand as defence. She let her arms sway, letting a whip of water splash at Zuko’s feet. Zuko stopped, pulling his foot up to see the wetness on his shoes. – “Pathetic.” – he called out.
The girl furrowed her brows at the sight of you. – “Stand aside girl.” – Zuko ordered. The girl moved her hands up. – “You’ll have to go through me.” – she replied. Zuko laughed. – “That won’t be a problem.” – he answered preparing himself. He fired at her as she fell backwards onto the grass. A sudden gush of wind made you all look away. Zuko’s eyes widened when Avatar Kyoshi landed in front of them. With one wave of her fan, were you all pushed back by air. Falling back.
“Protect the princess!” – Zuko shouted as he tried to get back up. The soldier enlisted to keep you save, pulled you up by your arm. Dragging you away from the others. He led you down the hill through the woods. You had little time to stand still and think about what was happening. Soon you neared the town as the soldier kept a grip on you, looking constantly over his shoulder. You froze when a fan flashed at him, hitting him in the head. It knocked him down.
Your gaze met up with a young girl looking a lot like Avatar Kyoshi with her make-up. The same boy from the water tribe at her side. – “Hey I know you!” – he said with a confused point at you. – “You were at my tribe too.” – he stated with furrowed brows. You turned around taking a run for it. – “Hey wait!” – Sokka called out, coming after you with Suki. You stopped, brought your hands up your face, then you pushed them forwards. The crackling of ice sounding. Sokka and Suki looked down, their feet slippery on ice.
“She can bend.” – Suki told Sokka out of breath. Suki grabbed Sokka by his shirt, pulling him off the ice. They went back in pursuit. In the woods, you couldn’t tell the direction apart. Not knowing where it might lead you. – “Hey wait!” – Sokka shouted to get your attention. Panting you tried to stay ahead of them. You screamed when you nearly bumped into the girl that came out of nowhere. You fell back, caught off guard. – “Katara get her.” – Sokka called out, out of breath.
Katara took a stand, ready to whip you with water if you dared to move. – “Why are you with the fire nation?” – she asked rudely. Suki extended her hand to you as you accepted it, letting her help you up. – “Are you their prisoner?” – Sokka questioned as you remained silent. – “There’s no need to be scared.” – Suki spoke rubbing her hand on your back, soothingly. – “We’ll save you.” – Sokka responded proudly. Before you knew it, were you dragged along with them.
Zuko was panting, taking a look around. – “Where is the princess?” – he asked loud. All his men looked at each other uncertain. Zuko felt himself grow angrier. – “Where is Y/n!” – he shouted unleashing fire from his fists. – “Don’t worry Zuko, we’ll find her.” – Iroh said to sooth him. – “Find her!” – Zuko ordered to his men. – “Burn this entire island down if you must to find her!” – he moved his fist forward, a blast of fire hitting a tree as it set it on fire. His men scattered away in search of you. – “We’ll find her Zuko…” – Iroh spoke placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko brushed his hand harshly off. He was panting. Braising with anger that he had lost sight of you.
If this would’ve happened years ago, he would just leave, being glad to be rid of you. Now, he felt like he couldn’t. You weren’t around him for a few moments and he already missed the argues with you. He missed your presence, more than he would ever admit. It wasn’t easy being forced on this mission with someone you were signed up to marry. Yet you were there. Day in and out. You were there at every step of the way. The water tribe princess he learned to admire… in secret.
Admitting it to himself that he actually… cared was scary. You were a weakness. You still are a weakness to him. One he didn’t intended on. Zuko called it out, burning the trees nearby. A tree’s trunk cracked. The top bush falling to the side. Zuko narrowed his eyes when he saw something familiar blue trotting up the hill. Instead of one, he recognized three. Taking in deep breaths, he bald his hands into fists.
He called it out as the fire coming out of him startled Iroh. It was blazing hot. Iroh saw it now as well, swallowing nervously. – “Zuko…” – he started moving his hand forwards. Before he could reach Zuko, had Zuko ran off. Huffing and puffing with anger to get you back. The grass catching fire from where he passed. His wrath waiting to be unleashed.
“So why were you with the fire nation?” – Katara asked as she pushed you up the hill. – “It’s complicated.” – you answered. – “How is it complicated?” – Sokka asked scratching the back of his head. – “It’s…” – you started cut off by loud shouting. You leaped aside when a fire blast went your way. Looking back at the trail, you saw Zuko panting with anger. His fist out where the fire blast had come from.
“He’s back!” – Sokka called out, helping his sister back up. Sokka then rushed over to you, helping you up. – “We have to go.” – he told you. Zuko fired once more, preventing them from going further up the hill. – “You are not going anywhere with her!” – he made clear. Sokka pulled you behind him. – “She’s not your prisoner!” – Sokka shouted at Zuko.
“No.” – Zuko replied composing himself a bit. – “She’s my intended.” – he said out loud making Sokka’s jaw drop, gawking at Zuko. – “Now hands off before I burn you!” – Zuko threatened. Sokka immediately pulled his hands off you, having no intention to die. Zuko’s gaze met up with yours, softening as he extending his hand to you. – “Please…” – he asked.
The sincereness from him made you realize he’d truly cared for you. For long you didn’t think it was possible. But here he was burning bridges to get to you. You took a deep breath, making the intention to reach your hand out to him when a gush of wind knocked him back. The Avatar landed soundless between Zuko and you. – “Leave my friends alone!” – Aang called out.
Zuko pressed his fist into the ground, groaning in anger. He got up firing at Aang. Aang deflected his fire with a defence of his own. Aang swayed his stick, knocking Zuko further back down the hill. Zuko got back up, going with all his might against Aang. Using all his power against the Avatar in order to get you back. – “Wait!” – you called out loud. Aang and Zuko stopped.
Aang looking confused at you. – “Don’t hurt him.” – you told Aang. Aang stared dumbfound  at you. Zuko slowly got up as you ran up to him. Slamming yourself against his chest when he had gotten up. Your arms around him. Zuko moved his arms around you as well, lowering his head on your shoulder to feel your embrace deeper.
“I need you Y/n.” – Zuko whispered to you. You hugged him tighter as a response. – “Can someone explain to me what is happening?” – Aang said out loud, looking back at his friends. Sokka and Katara could only stare in shock at the two of you. – “They’re intended.” – Sokka said finding it hard to believe and finding it odd that he was saying it out loud. – “Huh?” – Aang responded.
“We should probably leave.” – Katara whispered to her brother. – “Good idea.” – he whispered back, slowly backing away. The three of them ran off. Zuko and you stopped embracing. He smiled at you, touching your cheek. You brought his hand down, keeping it in yours. Holding hands, you went back down the hill with Zuko.
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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!
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5sospenguinqueen · 26 days
Text
Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader
Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.
Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.
Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.
Main Masterlist
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User 2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties
User 3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though
→ User 4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me
User 5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots
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22•05•22
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User 6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull
User 7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'
User 8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing
User 9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred
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16•06•22
fallontonight just posted
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liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others
fallontonight did you know @ YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of The Tonight Show 📚🦘
4,477 comments
YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨
User 11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what
User 12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts
→ User 1 not even in the likes or comments
→ User 2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch
→ User 3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other
User 4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does
→ User 5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others
YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 Aug '22
4,990 comments
User 6 does this mean a new book is coming soon
→ User 7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest
→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to being right a romance novel at this time
→ User 6 confirmation??!?!
→ User 7 we’re children of divorce
→ User 8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over
landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞
→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare
→ User 9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart
→ User 10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here
kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends
→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x
→ User 11 i love their friendship
→ User 12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever
User 13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?
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04•09•22
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User 14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he’s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???
→ User 15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him
User 16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that
YourUserName posted a new story
danielricciardo posted a new story
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danielricciardo just posted
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danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in Suzuka. Moving on to the Americas
5,509 comments
User 1 maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly
User 2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better
mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪
User 3 letting mclaren and lando down
→ User 4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something
→ User 5 he’s way too young for her
→ User 4 they'd make a good looking couple tho
(comments have been disabled for this post)
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19•10•22
YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet
kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍
→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home
→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned
landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing
→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in
→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings
maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40
→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy
User 7 happy birthday to the best author
User 8 happy birthday queen
carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐
liked by YourUserName
danielricciardo happy birthday x
User 5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with
→ User 6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo
lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕
liked by YourUserName
mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳
liked by YourUserName
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This is going to be part of a Baby Fever Angst series with the other drivers. So, multiple drivers are going to have an smau like this.
Max’s Version | Lando’s Version | Lance’s Version
Charles’ Version
I do have Part 2s planned if people want them but also happy to leave it like this :)
2K notes · View notes
munsonsmixtapes · 24 days
Text
Do Me a Favor?
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Find part two here!
Eddie x fem!shy!bestie!reader
Summary: you buy some weed from your best friend Eddie and after shotgunning from him, you both find yourselves wanting more
word count: 6k
cw: MDNI 18+, smut, oral (f receiving)
The cold air nipped at your skin as you knocked on the trailer door. You tightened your cardigan around you as waited for someone to answer, wondering what the hell you had been doing there. You didn’t smoke weed. You didn’t buy it either, but maybe you just wanted to see the cute metalhead who was supposedly the best dealer in town, even though he was one of your closest friends and let you come over whenever you wanted.
You had been friends with Eddie Munson since that one time he helped you pick the books that you had dropped when someone had bumped into you in the hallway in the tenth grade. He had grabbed your copy of Lord of the Rings and the two of you yapped about it all the way to the cafeteria where he let you sit with his group.
After letting you sit with him every day, he eventually asked you to join Hellfire Club and you happily agreed. Not long after, the two of you found yourselves hanging out outside of the club, occasionally getting dinner or watching a movie at your house.
Over time, you started to develop romantic feelings because how could you not have? Eddie was just so sweet and caring and he looked out for you like no one else did. And maybe it was silly to crush on your best friend, but you couldn’t help it. Aside from his charming personality, he also happened to be very easy on the eyes.
The door opened, pulling you out of your thoughts and there Eddie was on the other side, looking like something out of your dreams in his cropped band t-shirt and sweatpants that he had rolled down a few times, giving you a great view of the patch of hair that was right under his belly button.
“Y/n?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He hadn’t been expecting you, but couldn’t help but feel intrigued to know why you were there.
“Hi, Eddie,” you nodded at him, not quite able to look him in the eye. You had hyped yourself up on the way there, but now that he was actually standing in front of you, you were feeling shy.
“What are you doing here?” He scratched the back of his head, causing his shirt to ride up even more and your mind suddenly went blank. “Thought you had to work.”
“I just got off and I um-I was wondering if I could buy some weed from you.” Eddie laughed at that. He always saw you as an innocent little thing who did everything she was supposed to. A goody-two-shoes that never broke the rules.
“Well,” he let out a chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Though, he kind of liked the idea of selling weed to you. Not only was it a funny thought, imagining you actually smoking the stuff, but it seemed like you were on edge every time he saw you and he thought you could use something to calm you down.
“We’re not in high school anymore. I’ve changed.” There was a little truth to your statement, but not much. The only thing that had changed about you since high school was that maybe you had a little more confidence and that you had finally gotten your braces off. Other than that, you were pretty much the same.
“So you have,” he nodded. “Well, why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you what I’ve got?” He held the door open for you as you stepped inside, letting it slam behind you. You looked around the place, loving how cozy it felt, especially since you were no longer in the cold weather. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms as you stepped further inside, trying to bring some more warmth to your body. You should have known that it was going to be a bad idea riding your bike across town without a jacket, but the damage was already done.
“The stuff’s in my room if you want to follow me.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice how quiet you were, but he had to admit that he thought it was cute. He knew that that was just who you were, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was making you feel nervous. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into taking the weed if you really didn’t want it. He didn’t know why he cared so much, it was just a normal sale.
Except it wasn’t. You were his best friend and had no experience with drugs whatsoever. He wanted to know why you had a sudden interest, but didn’t feel like it was his business to ask, no matter how close the two of you were.
Eddie had always thought you were pretty, but also thought that you were out of his league. He was the town freak and you were the shy girl who always had her nose in a book. He didn’t think that the two of you were exactly a great match. He didn’t want anyone starting rumors about you too, so he let you slip through his fingers. He decided that he was already risking enough by being friends with you.
But now there you were, standing in the doorway of his room, somehow having gotten prettier since he had seen you a few days ago. You were avoiding his eye contact, staring at the desk that was behind him. You were eyeing the stack of books that were sitting on top of it, wondering what they were, noticing that they were different than the ones that had been there before.
You slowly stepped further into the room, making a beeline for the stack, noticing that they were all new books. You slowly looked at all the covers, most of them being ones you had never heard of, but you were interested in every single one as soon as you read the back. Your face lit up at the book that was on the very bottom. It was your current favorite fantasy novel that you had read more times than you had cared to admit, but you had lost your copy and hadn’t been able to get a new one. You opened the book and let out a gasp at the little signature on the first page, wondering if he had bought it like that or if there was a signing that you didn’t know about.
Eddie watched you, still finding the way that you mumbled to words that were printed on the books to yourself adorable. For a second, he had completely forgotten why you were there. For a second, he had been convinced that you were there to hang out with him like usual.
“I can’t believe you have a signed copy of this.” You turned to face him, showing him the signature. He just let out a chuckle at that, finding you even more adorable. He didn’t think he had ever seen you so animated in the years that he had known you. “How did I not know this?”
“Oh, yeah, I got it a couple weeks ago,” he shrugged. “I honestly forgot that I had it.” The thing had been sitting on his desk since after the signing and he really had forgotten about it, his obsession with it being completely abandoned for another. “You can…keep it if you want.” Your eyes lit up at his suggestion but you quickly slumped your shoulders.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t take it from you.” You set the book back on the desk, knowing that you would have felt bad taking something like that from him. Even though it looked like it hadn’t been touched in a while, you could tell that it meant something to him.
“No,” he shook his head, moving towards you. He took the book and shoved it into your hands, his touching yours as he did so. “Take it, l/n. Please. It’s just been collecting dust here and a thing like that deserves to go to a good home.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes bored into yours to show you how serious he was and you couldn’t help but stare into them. They were hypnotizing, so brown and pretty. You had always been a sucker for brown eyes, especially Eddie’s. You knew that you’d do anything he asked just by looking into them, and you were sure that if he knew that fact, he would have gotten you into trouble.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His hands were still on yours and you were so aware of his touch, loving how soft but rough his skin was. You could feel the cold metal that was his rings against your fingers that was mixed with the warmness of his hands. You just wanted to take them into your own, interlacing your fingers with his.
Eddie took the book from your hands and removed one of the straps of your tote bag from your shoulder and let the book fall inside before putting the strap right back. A smirk kicked up at the corner of his lips and you stared at them, thinking about how kissable they looked. They were so pink and plump and you just wanted to know what they felt like slotted between yours.
“Just so you don’t think about leaving it here,” he winked then turned on his heel to head to his bedside table. He pulled out a tin lunchbox from the bottom shelf and set it on the bed before opening it. He rifled through it, pulling out multiple plastic bags, trying to remember if he even had anything for a beginner. Most of the stuff he had was for people with a much higher tolerance and he didn’t want to start you on something you couldn’t handle.
Eddie found just what he was looking for at the bottom of the lunchbox and held it up to the light just to make sure, then nodded. He then closed the lunchbox and put it back where he found it and sat down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him. You hesitantly sat down next to him, so close to the other end that if you sat any farther away from him, you’d fall to the floor.
Your heart was racing in your chest. You weren’t even going to smoke the stuff, you just wanted to be able to say that you bought some. Once you got home, you had every intention of throwing it into a drawer, never to be touched again. You just were afraid of what it would do to you so you definitely weren’t going to smoke it alone. That was just too scary. Maybe if you had more confidence, you could have asked him to smoke it with you.
“How much?” You asked, reaching for the money you had in your pocket and Eddie just shook his head.
“No need, l/n,” he rested his hand on top of yours to stop you. “First one’s always free,” he winked and your cheeks flushed.
“Could you do me a favor?” You asked, not even thinking about the words that were coming out of your mouth. Eddie titled his head to the side, wondering what you could have possibly wanted him to do for you.
“Anything,” he nodded quickly, ready to do whatever you asked, no matter how weird or ridiculous. “You know that.”
“Would you…want to smoke with me?” That was the last thing he was expecting to ask. He didn’t think that you ever want to get high with him.
“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. He hoped you couldn’t hear how hard his heart was beating his chest as he suddenly felt nervous about the whole thing. “You really want to?” He just wanted to be sure before he started anything.
“Please.” The words came out more desperate than you had intended, but you didn’t even care. You were just happy that he said the words you had been afraid to. Now you didn’t have to worry. He'd be right there to help you if something went wrong and you were sure that he wouldn’t judge if you did something that wasn’t right.
“Alright, well, I’m just gonna roll this up, okay?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at his desk as he held up the baggie with his other hand. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as Eddie gave you a reassuring smile, standing from his bed.
You just nodded in response and he pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk, getting to work. You stayed on the bed, not wanting to get into his space, just letting him do whatever he needed to. You sat patiently, trying not to think too much about what you were doing or you were going to back out. You only got one chance to smoke with your crush and you were going to take it.
Once Eddie had the joint all rolled up, he turned in his chair to face you then made his way back to the bed, sitting down on it hesitantly. Your comfort was his top priority and he was fully prepared to stop everything if you didn’t want to continue.He turned to face you, giving you his full attention. He had never smoked with a first-timer, but he still knew exactly what to do. He wanted to give you options, letting you have full control of the situation.
“So, we can either take turns or we can shotgun, which is where I inhale the smoke and blow it into your mouth. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He was being so sweet and gentle and it was getting really difficult for you to not fall for him even harder. You weighed your options and decided that shotgunning was probably the best idea. That way, there was less of a chance that you’d choke and maybe you just wanted to be close to Eddie.
“Can we…shotgun?” You words came out unsure and Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, wanting to make sure that was actually what you wanted. You nodded enthusiastically, scooting closer to him again. “That’s what I want to do.”
“Then let’s do it.” Eddie turned to grab his lighter from his bedside table and smiled to himself since he had secretly wanted you to pick shotgun. He wanted to be able to touch you, to feel your lips on his, the whole idea making him a little hard. Once he had the lighter, he put the joint between his fingers before holding the lighter out to you. “Wanna do the honors, cutie?”
“Sure,” you nodded and took the lighter from him. You sparked the lighter up and cupped your hand around the joint like you had seen in movies and let it catch the flame before pulling away. You kept hold of the lighter as Eddie beckoned you forward with his free hand.
“C’mere,” he said and you obeyed, moving so you were sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He mimicked your actions and you both got so close that your legs were touching. “Make sure the smoke is in your mouth before inhaling, okay? Don’t want you choking.” You just nodded and Eddie took a drag and held the smoke in his mouth as you leaned forward even more. Your lips parted and Eddie reached up to your face slowly, giving you a look as if asking for permission.
“Do what you need to do,” you told him and his fingers took hold of your chin. His thumb reached up to your bottom lip and he pulled it down as if asking you to open your mouth wider. After it was wide enough, his hand moved to your cheek, pulling your face to his. He gingerly opened up, pressing his lips to your before pushing the smoke into your mouth. You did as he instructed and waited until all of the smoke was in your mouth before you took a deep breath.
Eddie leaned away so you could exhale, gauging your reaction to make sure that you were okay. Just from your first hit, you had been doing a lot better than other first-timers he had seen. Sure, you had only done well because he had told you what to do, but he still thought that you were a natural.
“I don’t feel anything.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you still felt very sober and Eddie just laughed in response.
“You’re not going to feel anything right away, hon.” His hand moved to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Do you want another hit?”
“Yes,” you nodded and Eddie took another puff and held the joint away from the both of you as he grabbed hold of your waist, pressing his open mouth to yours once again. He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled before you were supposed to, pulling away to cough into your arm. You had been so focused on the way Eddie’s lips felt against yours that you had completely forgotten what you were supposed to do.
“You okay?” He asked, his hand moving to your back, giving it a sympathetic rub. You just held your thumb up as an indication as you continued to cough. “C’mon, let’s go get some water.”
He stubbed the joint out onto his desk then took you by the hand, pulling you from the bed. You continued to cough all the way to the kitchen and couldn’t believe that you had ruined the good time you were having because you had gotten distracted.
Eddie quickly grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it up with water from the tap before handing it to you. You quickly gulped down as much of the beverage as you could and let out a sigh of relief as you set the empty glass down on the counter.
“You okay? You good?” He asked, the words rushing out of his mouth. He stood in front of you, his hands resting on your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his chin.
Eddie didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort you and why it had become second nature to him when he was never good at or liked it, he didn’t know. Anytime he was around first-timers who inhaled improperly, someone else always stepped in to help while he watched from the sidelines. But now, there he was, fully prepared to give you whatever you needed.
“I’m good,” you assured him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Can you just…hold me for a second?”
“I can hold you for all the seconds, honey.” You weren’t sure where the little nickname came from, but you were eating it up, wanting him to say it anytime he referred to you.
You pulled back to look at him and your eyes immediately shifted to his lips. You watched him wet them with his tongue, the wet sheen making them look even more inviting. It was like he was doing it on purpose, trying to torture you by dangling it in your face, knowing that you wouldn’t do anything about it.
Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his in a lingering peck before quickly pulling away. An embarrassed flush made its way upon your face and you covered your lips with the pads of your fingertips.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
You turned to leave and Eddie didn’t let you get far. He grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him. He took no time to cradle your face in your hands and capture your top lip between his two. Your hands found his waist and you pulled him to you so he was flush with your body. The kiss was slow and sweet, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It was everything you had ever hoped, everything you could have ever imagined.
“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he insisted against your lips. “You have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” That made you stop in your tracks. You quickly pulled away to look at him, your eyes widening.
“How long?” You were desperate to know exactly how long he had felt that way about you so you could see how much your crushes had overlapped each other.
“Since high school. Almost kissed you that night when I drove you home from Hellfire and I’ve been kicking myself ever since because I didn’t.”
You had remembered that night so vividly. You had ridden your bike, but Eddie had insisted on giving you a ride home. The two of you had talked the entire time about everything and nothing, occasionally giggling at little jokes that you had shared with each other. Even after Eddie had pulled into your driveway, you still sat there, neither of you wanting you to leave. You had noticed him leaning towards you, but you didn’t want to make any assumptions, so you just said your goodbyes and you just felt embarrassed for thinking that he was going to kiss you when it had been clear that he hadn’t.
All that time, you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you and you had been right. You actually hadn’t been delusional for once. For once, the guy that you had feelings for actually reciprocated them and you couldn’t have been more elated.
“Well, now you can make up for lost time.” Your hands rested against his back.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Eddie pulled you back in for another kiss, this one more rough and messy, the two of you so desperate for the other, taking exactly what you wanted from each other.
Eddie’s hands moved to your cardigan and he undid the first button so slowly, giving you a chance to back out if you wanted to. Once he got the okay to continue, he undid the rest and pushed it off of your shoulders. You removed it from your arms and let it fall to the floor.
You let your hands trail up his back and you pulled onto the bottom of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Once it was removed, he threw it to the side, grabbing hold of your waist again. His hands slipped to the strip of skin between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your tank top that had ridden up as he backed you up to the counter, your back hitting it.
He helped you get up on top of it and you spread your legs, Eddie stepping between them. His mouth was quickly on yours again as he licked into it, his tongue roaming around it as if he was trying to taste every single bit of it.
You let out a moan as his tongue swirled around yours and your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. His hands traveled up your shirt and moved to your bra, his fingers resting on the clasp as if asking to take it off.
“Take it off,” you commanded. “Please.” The word came out like a whine and Eddie was happy to oblige, quickly unhooking the clasping before removing the straps from your arms and sliding the whole thing down and pulling it from your tank top. He tossed it behind him then looked at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitance.
“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling from being out of breath from your lips being attached. He would have never forgiven himself if he had done something you weren’t comfortable with. He just wanted to be one hundred percent sure.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Eds.” Your hand moved up to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I want you to be my first.”
“Your first?” His eyes widened. He honestly had no idea that you were a virgin. “Y/n, are you sure you want it to be me?” Eddie wanted to be sure that it was actually what you wanted. That you were doing it with someone you cared about and he wasn’t sure he deserved to be your first.
“Very sure,” you nodded. “You’re the only one I trust to do it.” He felt his cheeks blush at your words, knowing that they meant that you had thought about having sex with him and his dick was getting harder by the second.
“Y/n, you have no idea how honored I am that you want it to be me, but I just want to be sure that you really want this.” Eddie thought it was the greatest honor of all that he was the one that you wanted to lose your virginity to and considered himself the luckiest man alive because of it.
“I’m sure,” you nodded. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”
“Oh, have you?” He teased and pressed another kiss to your lips. “Wanna move this to the bedroom?”
“I’d want nothing more.” Eddie’s lips slotted between yours once again and his hands moved out from under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the counter. Your ankles locked at his back and he carried you to his room, your lips still in the middle of a messy kiss.
He entered his room and slammed the door behind him with his foot, hurrying the two of you to his bed. He collapsed onto it and you fell on top of him. He then sat up and looked at you with a serious look in his eyes.
“I just want to let you know a few things before we get started,” he said, his hands resting on your thighs.
“Okay,” you nodded, ready to listen to whatever he needed to say.
“First, if I go too far or you don’t like something or even if you don’t want to continue, don’t be afraid to let me know. This is all about you, okay?” You just nodded in response and Eddie licked his lips before he continued.
“And on the opposite end, don’t be afraid to let me know what you do like. If you like something, feel free to make noise, and you don’t have to be embarrassed about being too loud. There’s no such thing.”
“Got it,” you nodded, looking him in the eyes so he knew that you completely understood what he was saying. You were desperate to get on with it already, but felt like you owed it to him to listen to what he was saying since it seemed pretty important.
“Do you want to start or should I?”
“You do it.” You wanted him to take the lead since he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Okay,” he replied, leaning towards you, his face only inches from yours. “Just gonna kiss you for now, okay?”
“Mhm,” you nodded and his lips attached to yours again. You felt a little more confident and you were the one to stick your tongue into his mouth, mimicking what he had done earlier, slowly laying him down onto the bed, removing your shirt as you did so. You then leaned down and pulled him into a kiss, your bare chest against his. Eddie brought his hands up and grabbed hold of your tits, the pads of his thumbs massaging your nipples, just enough to make them hard and you made a noise that he knew that he was going to grow very fond of.
Eddie pulled away from you, his mouth immediately moving to your tit. He moved his tongue back and forth, licking across your nipple and you moaned. The whole thing was so foreign to you but you liked the feeling.
Just as you were getting used to it, he took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a pull, causing your hands to move to his hair, giving it a yank. Eddie took that as an invitation to continue and moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. You gave it his hair another yank and let out one more moan, trying your best to not be self conscious about how loud you were.
“That’s it, honey,” he said, licking another stripe along your nipple. “Let it out.” Eddie pressed his lips to the spot between your breasts then flipped you over so that your back was against the mattress. He pressed open mouthed kisses all the way down to your stomach and stopped when he got to the top of your jeans.
“These look great on you,” he complimented. “But I’d think they’d look better on the floor. Can I remove them?”
“Yes, please.” He took no time to unbutton them and pulled down the zipper before pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. He pressed a kiss to the spot above your underwear then looked up at you for permission to remove them.
“Take them off, Eds. Please. I need you.” Your words came out so whiny and Eddie felt himself getting even more hard.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded before taking your underwear off. He was about to throw them on the floor, but you stopped him, putting your hands over his.
“You should keep them,” you told him. “To remember this night.”
“Isn't that objectification?” He liked the idea of keeping your underwear, but also kind of felt like he was treating you like an object by doing that.
“Not if I say it isn’t. Put them in your pocket.” Without a second thought, Eddie put the underwear into his back pocket before resting his hand on your knees, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. He then spread your legs open to get a peek at your pussy which was sopping wet.
“Wow,” he said, noticing that there was already a stain from where everything had leaked out onto his bedding. “This might be the wettest pussy I’ve ever seen. Mind if I get a taste?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Eddie climbed off of the bed as he pulled you to the end of it. He then got onto his knees before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He looked up at you one more time for any signs of hesitance and when he saw how eager you looked, he slowly pushed his head between your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.
You let out a gasp as his nose brushed it and gripped the blanket as he licked a stripe from your slit to your clit. He swirled his tongue around the area and you couldn’t keep your sounds to yourself anymore.
“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, your fingers gripping more of the blanket as he worked his magic with his tongue. He grazed the sensitive spot with his teeth and you whimpered which let him know that he could continue. He applied a little more pressure with his teeth, loving the sounds that the action elicited from you.
“So good, Eds. Need more.” You were desperate for whatever he was going to give you, not caring at all what it was, just as long it felt as good as him giving you head.
“Oh, this is just the appetizer, hon.” He dove into your cunt once more, shoving his tongue inside of it, causing you to moan the loudest you ever had.
“Fuck, Eddie, more.” He swirled his tongue around and around and you made the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard in his life, knowing that they’d still ring in his head after the night was over.
After a couple more moans, he removed his face from your pussy and practically threw himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue swirling around your mouth.
“See how good you taste, honey?” He asked. “Wanna taste you all the time.”
“And I’ll let you,” you responded. “Whenever you want.”
“I love the sound of that.” He slotted his lips between yours in a dizzying kiss before pulling away. He then reached for his bedside table and pulled the drawer open before taking out a condom, not even bothering to close the drawer back.
“I don’t think I’m ready,” you told him, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew he wouldn’t ever judge you, but still couldn’t help but feel like he was going to be mad at you. He let the condom fall to the floor then moved himself back on top of you, his hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers.
“Are you mad?” You looked up at him, and his face softened instantly. He would have never been mad at you for that. Maybe he was a little disappointed, but he thought he would have been wrong to blame your for something like that.
“Baby, no, of course I’m not mad at you.” He shook his head, giving your hands a squeeze. He couldn’t have been mad at you if he tried.
“Promise?” You needed constant reassurance or your brain would convince you that he was lying.
“I promise, honey,” he nodded. “How about we put on some pajamas and watch a movie? Anything you want.”
“I’d like that,” you nodded. You really had thought you were ready, but the whole thing still scared you. You really enjoyed everything leading up to it, but still found the penetration part to be too much for you at the moment.
Eddie rolled off of you and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser before tossing them to you. You threw them on while he headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed and still felt anxious about him being mad at you. What you had was so good and you were convinced that you had ruined it.
“I’m not mad at you,” he called from the bathroom. He knew you too well sometimes, always somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking. He knew how prone you were to overthinking and was always there to reassure you that your thoughts were in fact not true.
Eddie emerged from the bathroom and threw on a shirt before throwing himself onto the mattress and rolling back on top of you. He pressed another bruising kiss to your lips, his hands reaching for yours again. He then pulled away, a grin breaking out on his face as he looked down at you.
“I’m not mad at you,” he repeated, burying his face into your neck, snuggling into it.
“I know,” you replied, just like always, but he was never convinced, even though you really did know that he wasn’t mad at you.
“I’m not mad at you,” he said one more time, pressing a kiss to your neck before rolling off you.
He reached for the remote to his tv and turned it on before pulling you to his chest. You both watched the screen mindlessly while your arms wrapped around him. One of his arms draped across your waist while the other hand stroked your hair, something he always did to bring you comfort.
You looked up at him as he watched the tv and couldn’t help but feel lucky to have a best friend like him. Someone who was always there for you no matter what. Someone who would never judge you for anything, no matter what he really thought about it. Someone who you were completely and one hundred percent head over heels for. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days you’d get the guts to tell him how you really felt.
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starkwlkr · 4 months
Note
I LOVE YOUR CHARLES FICS ESPECIALLY THE RUBY ONES OMG! This might sound strange, but could you write one where Y/N gets tired of the paparazzi and tries to physically fight a reporter? Kinda like the björk reporter incident in the 90’s. I wanna hear Charles and ruby’s reactions!
that’s my wife! | charles leclerc
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charles: you know the only reason i got married was so i could yell that’s my wife whenever i wanted?
also i made it SLIGHTLY different so instead of fighting the paparazzi, mama leclerc throws hands with toxic f1 fanboys 😍
Y/n always hated paparazzi, it was no surprise. She knew from the start of her relationship with Charles that she would be photographed whenever they stepped out. She knew what she was getting herself into when she started dating Charles and she tried to ignore it. It worked for a couple years and then Ruby and Mathéo came along. Being a mother changed Y/n. She was more protective of her children and husband.
When she wasn’t in the paddock, she was back home in Monaco with the kids and Pascale. The wag pages updated on where she was and some fans would try to find her.
During the week that Charles was away, Y/n was out with the kids in sunny Monaco. Ruby needed new school supplies and Y/n needed to buy Mathéo new clothes so she took both of her kids to the store. Charles has told her many times to at least have someone with her when she went out, but Y/n didn’t think it was necessary.
“Maman! Can I have this one?” Ruby pointed to a pink backpack that was on a window display.
“You already have a backpack, my love, we are only buying items we need like journals and books for you and new clothes for Théo, okay? And maybe we’ll get ice cream after. How does that sound?” Y/n asked the little girl, who seemed bummed that she wasn’t getting the pretty pink backpack she saw, but cheered up when her maman mentioned ice cream.
Ruby held onto the stroller as the family of three walked the sidewalk to the nearest store that sold school supplies. That’s when Ruby noticed a man pointing his phone at them. She wondered why and asked her maman.
“Let’s go inside, quickly.” Y/n told Ruby as they finally made it to the store.
“Why is he staring?” Ruby stared back at the man and even stuck out her tongue at him when he wouldn’t stop recording.
“Don’t pay attention, Ruby Jules. Let’s go.” Y/n grabbed Ruby’s hand.
“I don’t like him, maman.” Ruby whispered.
“I don’t either,” Y/n sighed as she started her shopping. But the man, who was still recording, decided to make her day worse.
“Tell Charles that Max is the better driver!” He was clearly trying to get a reaction out of her. “Fuck Ferrari!”
And suddenly, Y/n had so much anger built up in her that it made her snatch the phone from the man’s hands and throw it as far as possible. It practically landed on the other side of the shop.
“What the fuck!”
“Don’t ever disrespect my husband like that. Have the day you deserve, shithead.” Y/n turned the stroller holding a sleeping Mathéo and grabbed Ruby’s hand. “Fuck you.” She pushed past the man as she exited the shop.
As the mom had her back turned, Ruby stuck her tongue out again at the stranger.
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“And then maman said a bad word and we left! But the phone flew so far and the man looked like he was going to cry!” Ruby said enthusiastically into the phone. Charles was still gone, but news spread of the incident in the shop. Most people were defending Y/n’s actions since the man was clearly harassing the family.
“Really? So maman almost made a grown man cry, that’s my wife!” Charles laughed. Before talking with Ruby on the phone, he had gotten the full story from his wife.
“That’s my maman!” Ruby yelled.
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rafesslxt · 2 months
Text
Showerhead 2 | mattheo riddle
pt. 2 — you can find pt. 1 here
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summary: after you and mattheo had some fun in the shower, you two can‘t stop thinking about each other and that night. But who gives in first to sin again after a little jealousy?
words: 5,1k
warnings: heavy dirty talk again, cursing, making out, dry humping, teasing, controlling, praising, bj, unprotected p in v, shower, swallowing, legilimency (mind reading),
note: you don‘t have to read part 1 for this part but have fun if you want to
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— in the great hall —
After that night in the shower 2 weeks ago, I couldn‘t stop thinking about it. I dreamed about it in my sleep, daydreamed about it in class and lunch while Hermione talked about some book we needed to read to understand everything in potions.
I hated it but everytime we crossed paths, he winked at me and I couldn't help myself but start blushing. As soon as I saw his face, I saw it between my legs.
"Y/n? Are you even listening?" Hermione says and shakes me a litte at my shoulder. "What? Yeah yeah of course, I'm gonna read it." They all look at each other before their eyes are on me again. "We were actually talking about how Cormac seems to have quite interest in you." Harry then continues.
I start laughing loud, looking at them as If each of them has 3 heads." What the hell are you talking about?" "Told ya she's not listening.." Ron says, raising his eyebrows as he bites into his toast.
"I thought he‘s interested in Hermione?" I ask as my laughter calms down a bit. "Harry heard him talking about how he would - well.. do certain things to you." My amused face turns into a disgusting one as I hear what Ron says.
"Yeah and guess who‘s got an invention to Slughorn‘s dinner?" Hermione says with raised eyebrows.
Ron looks at her shoked. "What?? That prick got one and I didn‘t?"
"Oh god no.." a few days ago Harry, Hermione and myself got an invention to tonights Slughorn‘s dinner for his favorite students. ".. but wait, how do you know who‘s coming?" I ask her. "I just asked him after the last lesson of potions. It‘s Neville, Ginny, Blaise Zabini, Mattheo Riddle, Corma –" "Mattheo Riddle?" I ask her shocked, looking at her with wide eyes.
I would see him again? Like.. this close and with people around us? My mind is racing as Hermione answers. "Yeah well, you know he‘s really smart and good in potions." "And he has an interest in special students and Mattheo is.. well – special." Harry comments.
Ron snorts and talks with a full mouth. "Mh yeaw hiff fatha was "speschal".
Hermione rolls his eyes at his full mouth and looks at me again. "Why are you so suprised by his name?" she asks me a little suspicious. " oh uh- just suprised, i always thought Mattheo is uh - not interested in things like that."
"Why would chou think about wat Mattheo is-" "Ron just eat and shut up!" I snap at him making the other two widen their eyes a bit.
I collect my things and stand up from the table. "I‘m gonna go to.. god i don‘t know I‘m gonna go." I say, walking off before they can answer. Because it‘s the weekend I luckily don‘t have classes today. I don‘t think I could concentrate in one of them after the information I just got. God why him? Why me? Maybe I can say I feel sick.. no he would know. I can‘t back down.
I walk down a hall, not thinking where I am going and suddenly crash into something hard but not as hard as a wall. My book and writing stuff falls to the ground and I look up, staring right into the face of Mattheo.
My brain went blank in this monent. "What princess? Aren‘t you happy to see me?" he grins down at me before he gets down and picks up my stuff. "Hm I remember a similar moment, same position." He smiles even more when he sees my red cheeks and not talking mouth. As he gives me my stuff he presses his mouth to my ear and whispers "I‘m looking forward to tonight" And with that, he‘s gone.
I‘m so fucked.
— at the evening —
" Do you know what you‘re wearing?" I ask Hermione while I put on some makeup. I hear her sigh and she goes "yeah I have this one dress I really like. What about you?" I shake my head as I search for my lipliner. " Not really, but I have enough dresses so I‘ll find something." Hermione laughs at my comment as she pulls out her dress and changes into it.
After I‘m done with my makeup and hair, I walk over to my closet, looking for a nice dress.
"What about this one? It would fit perfectly for the occasion." She says as she pulls out a dress of mine. It is long and black, with cute little arms on it. "It‘s pretty but I want something.. else." As i go trough my clothes I think about Mattheo again and what would impress him. God I need to stop it.
"Well what are you looking for?" "Hmm something likeee.. this." It‘s perfect. It‘s short but not too short, i know it sits beautifully on me and.. it‘s green.
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(imagine something like this but in some green tone and longer so it‘s more school approved)
Hermione raises her eyebrows and looks at me. "Are you sure? Isn‘t it a little too.. party?" I love her for how she always chose her words wisely and with a knowledge for not hurting and judging people. I know what she meant but she would never think about judging me. Even when I put my clothes on she wouldn‘t pick, she makes me feel great in them.
"Yeah, I‘m sure." I smile, putting it on. When I look into the mirror I smile even more, thinking about how Mattheo will react seeing me in it.
As the time comes we take our purses and walk outside our dorms, meeting Harry and Ron in the common room. "You both look great." Harry tells us like the gentlemen he is but Ron just scans me like a little hater and looks at me. "Isn‘t that a little too flashy?" "Ron!" Hermione hits him on the shoulder.
"Don‘t be mad at what you can‘t have Ronald." I say grinning and winking at him before I link my arm into Harry‘s with Hermione doing the same on his right side.
We walked through Hogwarts, towards the dinner and the closer we got the more my heart started beating as If I‘m running a marathon.
I open the door in front of us after taking one last deep breath and walk inside with my two friends.
Everyone was already there, seated perfectly. "Oh hello you three! I‘m so glad you made it. Please choose a seat and get comfortable." Professor Slughorn greets us. I always liked him, even tho many say he‘s a little weird sometimes but I think thats exactly what I do like about him.
As I walk towards an empty seat, I scan the table, looking at Mattheo when I found him but his eyes were already on my dress.
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Quickly I look away, seeing that Cormacs eyes were on me too which made me gag a little.
But god Mattheo looks so good. He wears a simple white shirt with a black tie and black slacks. Damn what I would give to ride his thigh in these – "Y/n you‘re staring." Hermione whispers into my ear, making me realise i stared right at Mattheo, but to my suprise he‘s still looking, not breaking eye contact for a second.
I gulp and look away, feeling my cheeks getting warm. God I hate it so much what kind of affect he has on me. I can‘t be the only one..
Wait. I‘m a woman. I can definitely tease him and make him feel the same.
The dinner goes on, nothing special besides Ginny who came in crying. Definitely have to ask her with Hermione about that later in detail.
As desert comes I look around the table, meeting Cormacs eyes. He licks of some ice cream from his fingers and wiggles his eybrows at me. Oh god I think I‘m gonna throw up.
As soon as I can I look away to Mattheo who was giving Cormac one of his death stares. Interesting.
I don‘t really know why i think it‘s a good idea but i do think it is. So I lean back a little, presenting the low cut at the front of my chest. I see Mattheo‘s eyes flicker to my chest and so do Cormac‘s but Mattheo‘s eyes switch back really fast to Cormac and give him a second glare. Really interesting.
I smile triumphal and lean a bit forwards again, pressing my boobs together this time. Instantly I get a headache but a really intense one. I hiss in pain which makes Harry look at me worried. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah I just got an really bad headache.“ i whisper back, wondering what it caused.
Soon the dinner was over and everyone thanked Slughorn for the invitation. "I‘ll stay and try to figure out what that missing memory of Slughorn‘s is." Harry whispers to us before staying behind.
My headache got a bit better but It still didn‘t go away. As we walked trough the door I said to Hermione and Ginny "You guys go to the common room, I‘ll follow. I just wanna get some advil from Miss Pomfrey.“ They nod and tell me that they will go into Ginny���s room to talk more privately.
It‘s already late and a bit after curfew but Professor Slughorn told us he made sure we would get in no trouble If someone sees us.
I rub my head slighty, trying to ease the pain on my way but nothing helped.
Then, out if nowhere a hand slaps over my mouth and a arm wraps around me, pressing me against a body. I scream into the hand, trying to get myself free until I see who the hand and arm belongs to.
"You didn‘t think I would let you go off that easily in that little dress of yours huh?“ Mattheo breathes against my face as it was only a few inches away from mine.
He slowly takes his hand away from my mouth, letting me speak. "What do you mean?" I ask and try the innocent act but he doesn‘t buy it.
"Oh princess, princess, princess. You can‘t fool me. I know that you wore this excuse of an dress for me. Fuck and also in my house color's? That‘s no fucking coincidence."
I gulp at his words and the fact that he knows who I wore it for. There‘s not even a single chance for me to lie. "And what If I did wore it for someone else?" Only one way and that‘s to push his last buttons. Oh how I wanted to push that buttons until –
"Someone else, yeah? Then who was it for?" "Cormac." As soon as his name left my mouth I regretted it. I see his jaw clenching and his grin fading. "Cormac yeah? So you didn‘t thought about me the whole dinner?" I slowly shake my head no, not daring to move now.
"So you‘re wet for him right now? Not me?" "What? I‘m not–" but as soon as I move my legs I feel it too. Shit. When I only look up at him his grin comes back.
"Yeah that‘s what I thought.. so why don‘t we skip this bullshit and you come with me?" Before I can even answer him, he takes my hand and pulls me trough the corridors, towards the Slytherin common room. " Mattheo I can't-" "Shut up." he hisses and whispers something under his breath so the doors to his common room would open.
"Can't fucking believe you pulled such a show in front of that stupid dick." he growled quietly before we reach his dorm. I start smiling as I see he's getting mad at the fact that Cormac saw me in that dress. "T'fuck you smiling about huh?"
As we enter his room I notice that there is only one bed which makes me wonder. "Don't you have a roommate?" "No, I have my own room." I scoff at his answer and look around his room. It has a big bed beside the window of the room and a little nightstand beside it. On the other side of the room is a big couch and a armchair.
But before I could think about it any further, he pulls me into his lap, face towards his, after he sat down on the armchair. "You know, you could have just told me If you missed me princess. Didn't need to dress all up for me." He puts his hands on my hips, grabbing them tightly.
I roll my eyes at him and act as If I didn't already enjoy his touch. "Didn't miss you." I say, looking away from him. He chuckles and pulls my face back to his with his fingers on my chin. "Are you sure?" I only nod and look into his brown eyes. They look so dark without any light in the room, that they send even more shivers down my spine than usual.
"Is your head better? Still in any pain?" he asks me grinning. "Yeah they-" wait. I never told him about my headache. Or could he hear when I told Hermione and Ginny? Or when Harry asked me at dinner?
His hands slowly wander down to my tights were my dress slowly rose up and placed them there, squeezing my flesh lightly. I felt his breath on my neck, giving me goosebumps. "It's gotten better, right?" he asks again. His lips ghosted over my skin, making me bite my lip.
"How do you know?" I ask him in a whisper. "I know everything that goes through your pretty little mind baby."
I tried to figure out what he meant by that but I couldn't concentrate with his hands on my skin and his lips almost against my neck. I need him so much.
"What baby, can't concentrate? Too much for you already?" he coos and finally kisses my neck, nibbling on the skin between his lips.
I can't believe how easy he gets under my skin with his kisses and whispers, not even doing anything. " I know you dreamed about me these last two weeks, thought about me at every chance you got. In class, in the shower, wishing it was me who touched you." he groaned against my throat.
My eyebrows squeeze together at his words. " How would you know that?" "Did you never wonder why your head always hurted at the same times?" I gasp and pull my neck away from him. " Are you reading my mind?" my eyes go wide as he just smiles at me sheepishly. Oh my god, no. This can't be. He's not allowed to know all these private thoughts.
"You don't know how hard it was for me to stay away and wait until you would come back to me but you little minx didn't and after tonight.. I couldn't just let you slip away from me again."
"Y-you can't do that Mattheo. That's not allowed. These are my thoughts." "I know baby but I couldn't help myself after that night in the shower. You were like a dream coming true so submissive and responsive to me. Fuck I'm already getting hard just thinking about it. But you understand I didn't have a chance, right? I couldn't risk you thinking about someone else then me."
He slowly pulled my dress up, exposing my tights and underwear. "God are you for real? Did you plan this?" he groans as he sees my matching set, a dark green lingerie set.
He pulls me closer to him, looking deep into my eyes.
"Ride my thigh." he commands and puts his hands back on my hips. "What?" I ask, looking at him dumbfounded. " It's my thigh or nothing. I'm not helping you getting off this time." I look at him with my mouth hanging open in shock. How could he be so cruel?
"C'mon, ride it baby I know you thought about it at dinner." My cheeks got red as he mentioned that. He dips his head towards my neck again and starts covering it in wet kisses. "Don't test my patience, love." he whispers and tightens his grip on my hips, moving them slowly. I gasp at the sudden friction.
"Feels good, right?" I only nod, closing my eyes as I start to move my hips in circles against his thigh. I feel so dirty doing this but at the same time it feels so good to finally get the friction I needed the last weeks again.
I feel my clit rubbing against my underwear, making me whimper and move my hips faster. "Fuck, look at you. I thought you were desperate back in the shower but now you're just getting yourself off on my thigh like a dirty little whore." I moaned at his words combined with his kisses on my skin. His lips went lower, first towards my collarbones, then further down to my chest.
I feel one hand of him wander to my underwear and pushing it to the side so my bare pussy rubbed against the material of his pants. I whine at the feeling, my hands grabbing his broad shoulders. " Oh my god. I'm so close Mattheo." He laughs wickedly against my chest, pushing down my dress so it hangs at the middle of my body. His mouth wanders to my bra, unclasping it with one hand behind my back.
"You're so beautiful baby, never ever am I waiting two weeks again for that." he growls and starts massaging my boobs and playing with my sensitive nipples.
I arch my back, shivers run down my spine at his touch. The grinding get's more and more intense. "Feel this?" he asks as he takes my hand and puts it on his bulge. "It's just for you." I bite my lip and look down at my hand. It looks so painful that I start massaging it through his pants. He bucks his hips up into my touch, his breathing getting heavier.
While still riding his thigh, I open his pants and push them down together with his boxershorts. His already fully hard cock slaps against his stomach before I take him into my hand. I spread the pre-cum over his tip with my thumb and start moving my hand up and down. "Shit princess.." he hisses, thrusting his hips up into my hand.
"I'm so close Mattheo.." I whine as I almost start rutting my hips against him. "Come on my leg baby, do it." he groans, lips apart.
I let go of his cock for a moment to dig my nails into his shoulders for support as I press my throbbing clit harder against him. He takes his cock into his hand and jerks himself off as he watches me panting and moaning.
With a deep twisting feeling in my stomach I come all over his thigh, riding out my orgasm.
"So good for me, look at how much you came." he says and I look down at his pants, a big wet spot on them now. My legs still shake from my high and I look up at him again.
Mattheo's POV:
Fuck. I don't know what it is but I have a feeling that this girl is going to be the death of me. With hooded eyes she looks up at me and almost get's me to cum in my own hand just from her eyes looking into mine. She had such a chokehold on me, but I will never admit that to her.
I smile down at her before I speak "already fucked out again and I didn't even touched you." The same thing I told her two weeks ago after I've eaten her pussy and she came after 3 minutes.
"Fuck off." she mumbles and falls slightly against my chest. "As much as I enjoy this closeness baby.." I start, nodding towards my rock hard cock, laying against my stomach.
I push a strand of hair behind her ear and whisper into it. " Suck on it." Her eyes go wide and she looks down on me with those innocent eyes again. " Don't tell me you never sucked cock with those pretty lips." I say, looking at her plump lips, almost begging to be fucked.
She rolls her eyes at me again, making me want to choke her until she stops. " I have." Her answer makes my clench my jaw, wishing she would've just said she didn't.
I pushed her down in front of my legs. I grab a pillow from the couch beside us and put it under her knees, making her grin. " Don't tell me you suddenly care for me Matty?" Now I am the one who rolls his eyes.
I grab her pretty hair into a ponytail and push her towards my cock. She takes it into her hand and starts to lick off the pre-cum from my tip. A moment later she starts sucking on my tip, making me smile. I have a feeling this is going to be good.
I hiss as her wet lips and warm mouth take more of my cock into her mouth. I close my eyes and let my head hang backwards. " Come on y/n, show me what you got."
Suddenly she takes me all the way down her throat, my eyes almost bulging out of my head and my mouth falling open. "Oh fuck, yeah!" I groan, gritting my teeth together. I swear I could feel her smile around me.
She bobs her head up and down in a fast pace, making me moan and groan like a little bitch. Fuck, what is it with this girl?
I feel my tip hitting the back of her throat. " Oh Shit." I lift my head up to look down at her. Her eyes are teary and her hands support herself on my tights. I start grinning, wishing I could take a picture of her pretty mouth around me.
Her throat clenches around me so delicious I almost came. "Hmm baby, you know how to suck cock. Gonna give you that." I pant.
One of her hands go down to my balls, massaging them. " Oh - " I throw my head back again, feeling something in my lower stomach. My hips buck up and I hear her gag, only getting me closer to my high. "M' gonna cum down your throat and you'll swallow it, yeah?" I ask her, breathing heavy. It doesn't take me long to cum and fill her mouth. "Fuckkk.." I groan, pushing her down even harder so her nose touches my stomach.
"Swallow it. All of it." I slowly let go of her, but seeing her cough a little only fuels my desire. She opens her mouth after she swallows and shows me that she swallowed every single drop.
"That's a good girl. Now come on.. let's take a shower." I say grinning at her and helping her back up. "Mattheo I don't know If I can walk so far." she sighs as she stands on her still shaky legs.
I kiss the top of her head, something I never do but just feels right with her. " You don't have to. I have my own shower." I pick her up bridal style and carry her towards my bathroom."
Y/n's POV:
As he picks me up to carry me, I feel a few butterfly's in my stomach but I try to suppress them.
He let's me down when we stand under his shower. His clothes hit the floor. "Hot or cold?" he ask, putting his hand on the tap. "Hot." I say and watch his back. Last time I didn't noticed but he has big scars all over his back, some even on his chest. He must see my face cause he asks me "What's wrong?" I shake my head and try to smile.
"Nothing." I see it in his eyes that he doesn't buy my lie but doesn't push me either. As the warm water hits my skin, I sigh in relief. I let my hair get wet and wash off the makeup I had on. While I did so, Mattheo stands right behind me, his hands on my hips, scanning my face.
I open my eyes and see him looking. " What?" I ask grinning. " You're beautiful." I roll my eyes and look away again, trying to hide my blush. "You don't have to try to get into my pants. You already are." He turns me around and holds my face. " Hey.. I really mean it. And not just your body. Your face is prettier than the ones of angels." My eyes widen at his words, not expecting that kind of words from him.
He clears his throat and looks away for a moment himself. That's when I grab his face in both my hands and crash my lips into his. The kiss is hungry, more passionate and different than the last times. More tender.
One of his hands slide up and down my back, while the other lays on my hip. "You make me crazy, princess." he admits, mumbling against my lips. I smile into the kiss. "Don't go soft Mattheo." I say, teasing him.
He starts kissing my neck, but less soft and more aggressively now. "Remember who's in charge here baby. I would choose your words wisely." He lifts me up so I wrap my legs around his waist. "This time I wanna see your face when I fuck you."
He takes his cock into his hand and positions it at my entrance, teasing me with it. „Mattheo come on, fuck me.." i huff out frustrated. "Beg for it, wanna hear you beg again like the last time I fucked you." I roll my eyes at his ego, but still do as he tells me to. "Please, I'm already begging you to fuck me."
Ge grins down at me and slowly pushes inside me, holding eye contact the whole time. His lips part and his eyes get lazy. "Fuck, you feel just as good as the first time I fucked you stupid."
I want to bite back but only bite my lip as he starts thrusting in a fast and hard pace. "What was that? I'm going soft princess?" His grip on my hips gets tighter and he starts kissing my neck up and down. " N-no you're not.." I whimper, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back against the wall.
What was is that he had me under his control so much? Not even a single brain cell told me to not do as he says. I can't with this boy..
His lips work their way up to my ear and he whispers "I'm a man baby, a boy wouldn't fuck you like I do. " Goosebumps erupt over my body and again he's right. " Stop messing around in my head." I growl lightly, supressing a moan in my throat. "You're all mine. I don't give a shit about how you see that, cause I know your body screams for mine every night. And it will never get someone else's. Do you understand?"
He stops kissing my neck and looks at me while thrusting his hips against mine. A shiver run down my spine as I looked into his eyes, but this time not a good one. It was ice cold. I never saw him looking tat serious and cold. Possesive. "Do. You. Under. Stand." he asks me again, deep and hard thrust for every word.
"God yes, Mattheo. I understand!" I cry out as his fingers find their way towards my clit, rubbing it in circles. My nails leave marks all over his back, drawing a little blood.
He starts hissing but laughing at the same time at the pain. He's gonna be the death of me. "No, you're gonna be mine, princess. Do that again with your nails, turns me on." As I don't, he mumbles a quite "okay" and presses me harder against the shower wall, fucking me even deeper and more brutal. My nails find their way back inside his skin and I'm sure If we had been o the bed It would be broken by now.
"When are you gonna learn to not be a little brat, huh?" he asks, a smirk on his face. "I own you now, baby." I let out half a snort half a chuckle. " Do I own you then too?" I ask sarcastically. " You own every inch of me."
My face falls a little at his answer, not expecting it. Did he mean that?But as soon as my thoughts started, I forgot them as he starts to rub my clit even harder, but in a steady rhythm.
"Oh yeah look at that in pleasure twisting face, that's fucking it." he groans, his thrust becoming more erratic. One hand leaves my hip and wraps itself around my throat, squeezing it with the perfect amount of pressure. A broken scream leaves my lips with my eyes rolling back.
"Yeah scream so loud Cormac hears who‘s name you‘re moaning tonight." I press my lips together but he squeezes my throat tighter. My walls clench around him, making him lose his control, eyes rolling back a bit with a smile to it. "I love that pussy so much fuck.I bet he can't fuck you like I can, huh?"
This time my answer comes in a instant. " No- no he can't. I'm so close Mattheo, please." I moan as I feel this deep twisting feeling in my stomach. His lips meet mine, to my surprise. Unlike how he fucks, he kisses me soft and passionate. "Come around me baby.Please fucking come around me." he groans almost desperate.
And just like that I let go and let the feeling of my orgasm overflow me. "Hm shit.. can I come inside you baby?" Mattheo pants against my lips while he looks down between us. I just nod quickly, feeling him coming inside me a few seconds later. "Shit.." a whimper leaves his lips as he fills me up.
My stomach twists again at the sound so I look at him and scan his face for a moment. I think that's the hottest sound my ears ever came across. He looks fucked out too, his eyes heavy.
He slowly pulls out but still holds me. "You make me so addicted." he confesses to me, looking between my eyes and lips. I had to. " So you're going soft now again?" I tease him, out of breath.
He chuckles lowly which ends with me bent over every single surface in his room.
I don't know how long I can survive in that.
I just know ya‘ll hate and love me for posting this.. after weeks :) <3
There‘s gonna be a part 3, the final then. Hehe.
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xoxo sarah <3
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
Note
Would you be willing to write a Miguel x Spider!Reader oneshot where they’re arguing over something the reader did on a mission. And in the heat of an argument, Miguel yells “Because I love you!” at the perfectly wrong time, revealing why he cares about the reader’s safety.
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‘What the hell was that back there. You could’ve jeopardised the whole mission with that reckless stunt you pulled back there!’ Miguel barked, ripping off mask the first moment moment he could; Hellfire were setting ablaze to his beautiful scarlet eyes that were zeroed in on you as the anger, the frustration upon his face became prominent the more he closed the distance between you.
‘When will you let this go, Miguel. When we became Spider-Man we knew the risks that we were running with-‘ ‘so you thought it’d be better to take a running head start by taking the leap and then diving headfirst into them?!’ Miguel cuts you off and with an indignant huff he adds, ‘you don’t get extra points for being reckless, this isn’t some little game that you can just come back to when you feel like it. No, what we do is a full time commitment with no room for last minute deviations just because you were feeling more heroic.’
You grit your teeth. You respected Miguel, you truly did and at one point in time you wanted to do right by his little rule book of how to be a great hero. However you soon learned that it’s better to play by your own rules rather then it was to play by those made by others and slowly but surly found a method that worked for you. For no two methods were the same when it came to protecting and saving people but if they both end in the same conclusion, then no one should be able to raise an issue with it. At the end of the day you and Miguel saved people from a much bigger problem if left unchecked; so why was it that all of a sudden he had an issue with your methods?
It never upset him this much before, so why now. Did he think you as incapable? As unreliable? As untrustworthy to fully let you handle a situation on your own? Whatever it was it only proved in pissing you off despite your semi-injured state; you didn’t care that you’ve gotten hurt, you’ve gotten hurt plenty of times before and he never once batted an eye or exemplified his emotions as he did as of right now. You could barely get a read on the guy as he stood mere feet away, chest heaving even though he wasn’t out of breath, eyes wide and his hair slightly disheveled from the way he had torn off his mask earlier.
And yet you couldn’t help but find him beautiful in his anger, for it was like witnessing the makings of a Greek tragedy; beautifully written, yet so heartbreakingly tragic.
‘Why does it matter?’ You spat, getting up, despite your injured leg’s desire to buckle beneath the weight of not only you but the situation at hand. You saw the briefest movements of Miguel’s arms almost stretch out to instinctively catch you but stopping midway through the motion before going slack at his sides once more; as though remembering why he was mad at you in the first place. ‘It never mattered before, so why does it matter now? You don’t hound the others for doing it so why is it me that’s getting shit on for doing the same when I ain’t the first to do so!’
‘Because I love you!’ Miguel exclaimed.
The silence afterwards was almost deafening. Miguel’s outburst quieted you quickly as a thousand and one thoughts raced in your head; how long? why now? Was this merely a ruse to silence you so he could badger on at you for your supposed mistake? You didn’t know what to make of anything anymore now that he said that. You didn’t want to believe it for starters on the basis that not once had he ever shown interest in you, if anything he made it apparent to push you away or avoid you entirely from any and all interaction, and even when he did it was comprised of short responses that left the attempts at conversation to die as an overwhelming awkwardness forced you into leaving him be.
‘What?’
‘I love you.’ Miguel repeated, softer this time.
‘I get that but why-‘ ‘haven’t I shown it until now? As stupid as it sounds but I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me and look where you are,’ he gestured to your injured state, ‘hurt because of me.’ He adds defeatedly. You were about to open your mouth when Miguel raised a hand, indicating that he wasn’t finished, ‘I know I haven’t given you any reason to believe me when I say that I love you. I avoid you like the plague and I push you away whenever I see you starting to get too close and respond in a clipped tone of voice so that you’d loose interest and move on to talk to someone else.’
He stopped talking to move in closer to you, grasping you by arms with a firm grip as all the anger in his face seemingly having been melted away. The raging hellfire that once consumed his scarlet eyes in their entirety had been diminished to that of dying ambers, unveiling his admiration, his worry, his guilt and most importantly, his love; the sneer now long gone was replaced by a softer more tender expression that didn’t hide away the worry lines that were deeply etched into his skin. ‘I don’t deserve you, I’m not worth having you because sooner or later you’ll see me the way I’ve always seen myself and I’d rather you be as far away as possible when that happens.’ Miguel said, making sure he was maintaining eye contact with you the entire time to prove that he was being wholeheartedly genuine, not wanting to lie to you about something as personal as his feelings; He’s done that for long enough, Miguel knew his breaking point was upon the incline and seeing you act the way you did during the mission only fast forward it.
‘Yet for some inexplicable reason I can’t stop myself for wanting to protect you, to make sure you’re safe, to make sure that you never come to harm. At first I thought it was because I was looking out for a teammate, making sure you didn’t slip up and cause more potential problems for the rest of us, making sure that you didn’t let a single perpetrator slip but soon I learnt it was far more then just simply looking after a teammate...’ Miguel paused to blink away the images regarding of the nightmares he’d get concerning you, which were few and far between but those times were enough to suffocate him with fear. ‘It was something more and I grew scared, I grew scared because I know what it’s like to loose it all but for some reason I also knew that loosing you would just be the nail in the coffin for me.’
Miguel admits as he presses his forehead against your own, his hands trailing from up your arms until they’re caressing the skin of either side of your neck between calloused thumbs. He closing his eyes and allows himself to breath you in, reminding himself that you were here and that he managed to get to you before anything else could, that he kept you safe, not from all harm but at least from some of it and that was good enough but he knew deep down that he needed the do better. ‘Don’t make me imagine a life without you,’ he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours just that tiny bit harder as his fingertips found their home where your pulse points were to remind him that you weren’t gone completely from his grasp, ‘for I don’t think I’m strong enough to withstand that reality.’
‘You don’t have to.’ You told him softly, lifting your hands to caresses the skin of his cheeks and feeling him effectively melt within your hold. ‘Not anymore.’
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