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cordeliawhohung · 1 month

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Of Sea Foam and Iron [2]

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Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap

what great news to arrive home to.

wc: 4.4k

warnings: historical au with lots of inaccuracies, mythology!au, blood/gore/violence, arranged marriage, nudity, fear of sex, ancient expectations of women

The churning you felt in your stomach was different from the sensation that plagued you the first time you had seen a man disemboweled.

Fear still seized your diaphragm with an iron grip, yet something else lurked underneath it. Confusion. Our wife? As far as you had been made aware, the only man you had been married to was Simon, yet it seemed he had already found a lover well before you were given to him.

What perplexed you even further was the fact that John not only seemed to understand Simon's claim, he seemed ecstatic. His minor apprehension at your existence melted away into something friendly, adoring even. He no longer looked at you questioningly, which had felt almost like an insult in your own home, and rather he greeted you with a chuffed smile. Your arms crossed over your chest as your mind couldn’t make sense of the odd feeling that ignited along your skin, but when you looked to Simon for answers, you found none.

“What great news to arrive home to,” John said in complete awe.

He took a few steps closer to you, and despite your body urging you to back away, you had been completely frozen in place. Perhaps this is why he was such a good warrior. All it took was a simple look from him and you grew as still as stone; if he had that same effect on the enemy, they would be stuck with his sword before they even saw the glint of his blade. But John seemed to have no such ill intent, and instead of a dagger, he reached an empty and kind hand out to you where he cautiously pulled your arms away from your body.

You had no choice but to follow his lead as he took your hands into his. Much like Simon’s they were rough with work and calluses that would never soften, and his touch sent a tingle along your skin as his thumbs rubbed along your knuckles. Those ocean-blue eyes hadn’t left you for even a moment, and you found your gaze equally captivated by the intimidating presence in front of you being so soft and vulnerable. It was like watching a wolf extend a hand in friendship; certainly he attempted to trick you.

“What is your name, my love?” he asked, still unable to remove the smile from his lips.

Your answer flowed from your lips before you were able to stop it, and the syllables of your name felt odd on your tongue. It had been so long since you had spoken it that it was like you had given it away the day you were married to leave it behind with the parts of you that died that day. But when John repeated it back to you, he smiled as if it was the sweetest word he had ever tasted. He gave your hands a firm squeeze before prompting you back inside of the house, leading you by his own hands.

“Come,” he urged, “we have much to discuss.”

Dazed, you had no choice but to follow him into the dining room, and Simon tagged along hot on your heels. John’s eyes had caught sight of the food still set out from lunch earlier, and you could practically hear his stomach growl. It all felt oddly domestic watching a man as powerful and intimidating as John MacTavish sit at the dining table, and even more so after Simon took a seat next to him. They looked at you expectantly, and you realized you had no choice but to take your own seat. While your husband and John filled their plates, you found that you couldn’t even stomach the thought of eating at that moment, and instead you kept your hands firmly folded in your lap.

“So. How long have we found ourselves in this arrangement?” John questioned with his mouth half full.

“About a month,” Simon replied. You were not ignorant to the way his dark eyes flickered to you upon his answer. “I would have rather waited for your return, but her father was insistent.”

John chuckled something deep and hoarse. The three of you had sat at that table to eat for only a few minutes, and nearly all the food on his plate had been consumed. Gluttony wasn’t a good look on anyone, but your attention was captured by the rigid lines of the muscles in his arms and the deep circles underneath his eyes. Perhaps it wasn’t gluttony as much as starvation. You wondered how much food Ares’s favorite dog needed to eat in order to survive, and if he had ever gotten a good meal during his recent campaign.

“It’s for the best, anyway,” John said after swallowing his food. “A ceremony as sacred as matrimony would have been wasted on a soldier like me. Not that I would be permitted to be there, anyway. Hands bloody and rotten from fighting. Would have hated to soil our wife the moment we were bound to her.”

“We?”

It was the first word you managed to muster — slightly in frustration at the fact they spoke about you as if you had not sat right next to them — yet you wished you had not spoken at all. Having the undivided attention of Simon, with his dark gaze and rugged face, along with John made your throat feel tight. Yet they persisted, keeping their eyes on you as if coaxing you to explain your confusion further. Patient. As if they stared at a skittish animal instead of a grown woman.

“Why… do you keep talking as if I’m married to both of you?” you asked cautiously.

“Because you are, in a manner of speaking,” Simon answered. “It was the deal that was made with your father.”

A cotton-like dryness enveloped your throat, making it difficult to swallow the words he spoke. The deal. He almost made it sound like the marriage had not been a proper one at all with terminology like that, and yet it still sounded correct. There had been no celebration of your matrimony, no going to a temple to make an offering to the gods, no feast in which to honor the intertwining of your lives. There had only been the lifting of your veil, and the promise to keep you safe.

Still, he had to be joking. Polygamy was illegal, and you were certain that extended even to the great John MacTavish himself. Then again, perhaps there was some work around. You had only ever been officially married to Simon, not John, and if your husband wanted to share you with another, you weren’t quite sure if you could deny that demand.

“What deal?” you questioned.

There was a slight pause that settled over the table, either in hesitation or in thought, you couldn’t tell. You quickly glanced at John, who kept himself busy with the food on his plate. Though this was certainly his first time hearing this information, he didn’t appear nearly as confused as you felt. Perhaps it was the soldier in him. Perhaps it was because none of this truly affected him either way; not as a man.

“Your father would have never married you to me if I was the only man on the end of the bargain,” he finally answered. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and in the back of your mind you could hear your late mother gripe about how improper it was. “Johnny is the real reason you’re here. He wanted someone strong, and as I’m sure you know, he’s plenty strong.”

“Oh, don’t let him fool you,” John interrupted. He leaned towards you as he spoke as if he was telling a secret to a good friend, someone he had known his whole life. Maybe that was the charisma that made people not only respect him, but genuinely like him. “You’ve seen the way he works, haven’t you? How he shapes hunks of iron to turn it into something useful. I’ve found no stronger man than him.”

“No father wants to marry their daughter to a cripple,” he retorted with a sharp bite to his words. Simon must not have used that tone frequently, because even John appeared surprised. “But he would have been stupid to turn away the opportunity of marrying her to you, even if it meant being bound to me.”

An obvious question burned the tip of your tongue, but you did your best to hold it in. It was a vile thought, something that you were certain could slice through even the toughest of skin, and you weren’t exactly keen on angering your husband and… your other — supposed — husband. But Simon’s eyes bore right through you, and he appeared as if he would rip the words from your mouth if you didn’t gather the courage to say it yourself. So you swallowed the bile as best as you could while you carefully phrased your next question.

“Then why marry me to you at all? Why not wait for John to return home?” you asked.

“It wouldn’t have mattered.”

It was John who answered you, and his response came so quick you almost didn’t understand him at first. He spoke with such conviction, you knew it had to be the truth. Still, your brows drew together as you glanced back and forth between the two men before you. There was a type of tension between all of you that you hadn’t felt since your wedding night with Simon, and you didn’t like the taste of it.

“Why not?” you questioned.

His next answer didn’t come as quick as his previous one, but it wasn’t for the lack of words. He drank in the silence of the table as his attention returned to Simon. The two looked at one another for what felt like an eternity, yet the blink of an eye at the same time. John quickly wiped his palms off on his chition before he reached a hand for Simon’s, who cautiously returned the gesture. Though he kept his eyes on Simon, when he spoke it felt like he wasn’t the only one he talked to.

“Because what’s mine is yours.”

That certainly was not the homecoming you knew John deserved as a highly acclaimed warrior, but it was the one he was stuck with. A confused and morose wife who greeted him with nothing but infuriating questions. But didn’t you have the right to be angry? For the last month you had shared a bed with your husband, partook in meals with him, just to be under the impression he wanted nothing to do with you. Suddenly his lover returns home, and then you learn his intention had been to share you all along? That your father had been in on that ruse and you were none the wiser?

What were you to do for the rest of the day besides mope around the house? Not like you had done anything else since you had been given away. Like the caged bird you were, you sat at your perch near one of the windows on the second story as you watched the city bustle around below. Simon’s hammer could be heard pounding away at his forge accompanied by a quiet murmur. While you rotted away inside the house with your festering frustration, your husband — or husbands — caught up on lost time. Or perhaps they discussed what to do with such an unruly wife. Not even your beauty could excuse your sour behavior.

You were long past caring about any sort of punishment. As far as you were concerned, living in that prison of a home was punishment enough for the crime of simply existing. No matter what, it seemed as if you were destined to suffer. If you lived your life as an unmarried woman, you would have been chased after by countless men either to steal you away or ravage you. But as a married woman, you were forever locked away like a criminal. Both options were lives hardly worth living.

It would have been better to be sacrificed and return the god’s gifts back to them. Spilled blood was certainly more comforting than Simon had been, and John MacTavish intimidated you despite his apparent kind nature. You knew better than to trust a dog that still had flesh in its teeth.

When night came, a breeze accompanied it that smelled so much like the ocean you swore you could taste it on your lips. Torches ignited in sparkling waves across the city, and you watched as people took shelter in their homes to escape the darkness that swallowed buildings whole. You had never really been afraid of the dark. Not when it brought out the most dazzling creations in the sky with comforting stars and a moon so bright there was hardly a need for torches at all. It was all so consoling you swore you could have fallen asleep in that windowsill without a care in the world.

“My love?”

John’s voice and his hand on your back was such a surprise to you, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Your body twisted to see him, and you were met with an amused smirk. Your first instinct was to scold him for giving you such a fright, but you opted to give him what felt like a confused glare instead.

“You’re very flighty. Like a bird,” he commented.

Huffing, you attempted to regain what little of your composure you were able to as you stared up at him. He wasn’t quite as tall as Simon, though you were certain that would be a near impossible feat anyway, but his broad stature was certainly something to be reckoned with. You knew you shouldn’t say anything snarky, yet that entertained expression on his face made your shame boil painfully underneath your skin.

“You’re just like Simon,” you breathed. “Both of you are too quiet for your own good.”

“Maybe you’re just tired. Fatigue can wreak havoc on your senses,” he countered, though his look screamed that you were right. “Come, we’re settling in for bed.”

You wanted to deny his request, but you would have no true reason to. None that he would accept, anyway. Would you just continue to stare wistfully out the window like a poet or philosopher, only to crawl into bed later and disturb the two large men you would find underneath the covers? No, you didn’t want any more trouble than you had already caused. They already had reason enough to beat you, or worse, and you didn’t want to give them another.

By the time John led you to your shared chambers, Simon was already naked and standing next to his side of the bed. Strange that he had shamelessly bared his body to you for the last month while keeping the true nature of your marriage to him secret, and it would be a lie to say that you weren’t a bit peeved at that knowledge. Still, oddly enough you had gotten so used to the image of his bare body that you no longer felt embarrassed to look at him in such a state. His eyes studied you carefully, like they always did, but with slight apprehension. As if he prepared for you to chastise him; as if he thought he deserved it.

“Go on, little dove,” John urged.

You quickly glanced back at him, and then to the bed, and your stomach dropped when you realized how the sleeping arrangements were about to change. Whereas you and Simon would sleep on opposite sides of the bed, well away from one another, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to get as much space with John in the midst of it all. Even worse, he gestured to the center, as if he wanted to trap you between them. A sickening dread gripped your chest, and you tried to soothe yourself long enough in order to form the words that plagued your mind.

“I’d feel more comfortable sleeping on the edge,” you admitted.

John laughed as if you told him a joke, and you couldn’t help but feel a little patronized, even with his euphonious tone. “Sorry, love. This side is my spot, I’m afraid.”

He gestured to the area directly next to the bed, and you caught sight of the short sword he had worn earlier, the one you were certain he was going to gut Simon with when he first arrived. You could see the dents in the blade and the raw wood on the handle, discolored from his grip. That weapon was one that he used often, and kept close. Something he had clearly used to take the lives of countless men.

“This side is closer to the door, and the other side is Simon’s. He has a hard time getting around, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he explained further.

Gods. His reasoning was sound, but you still didn’t like it. The thought of being stuck between two men who only felt contempt for you made the bile in your stomach boil. A roaring fear plagued your thoughts as you imagined crawling into that bed. Perhaps the only reason Simon had not taken you the night you were married was because he wanted to wait for John to return. Being trapped between them on the bed would make it impossible for you to fight against them, should they get the urge to have their way with you in the night. You had managed to convince yourself that you would be able to lay there and take it if it were just Simon, but with John? That was just dehumanizing.

Impatient, Simon crawled into his side of the bed where he covered himself with the plethora of blankets. He laid on his back, exhausted from his long day of work, and he looked at you with a heavy sigh. You prevented him from his rest, that much was obvious, and his silent frustration only poked you further.

Seeing as how you had no other option, you timidly scurried into bed next to Simon. There was a special shame that sizzled in your chest as you attempted to get comfortable, and it only got worse as John began to undress himself. Similar to Simon, his body bore countless scars and even some new minor wounds, and there was a heavy ruggedness to it from war. Sinewy muscles, tanned skin; he was the very paragon of vigor. Still, the very moment that his chiton began to fall past his hips, you turned away in favor of facing Simon instead.

At least he was familiar.

Once John extinguished the oil lamp and the room plunged into darkness, you felt the bed shake as he climbed in behind you. Every movement had your muscles constrict like you expected him to scoop you up into his arms, or worse. Though you were not allowed out of the house very often, even before your marriage, you knew the rumors of soldiers and their insatiable lust. So much time spent on the battlefield with adrenaline running high always had a way of turning men into ravenous beasts.

If he did have plans to take you or toy with you in the night, John kept those intentions hidden as he settled into the mattress with a heavy sigh. The bed was large enough that the three of you could lay side by side without touching one another, and you found yourself eternally grateful for it. Though, it suddenly made sense as to why it was so large in the first place; not because Simon was a beast of a man, but because two men shared the bed with one another.

And then there was you, their third.

Sleep did not come easy for you that night. A symphony of breaths filled the still air, and a blazing heat threatened to suffocate you underneath the blankets. You did not dare move as you were terrified to rouse the men from their sleep, and your body began to ache from staying on your side for too long. You felt as if you were a mouse in the den of a lion, forced to stay quiet and still lest you be devoured. But anxiety could not hold you forever, and eventually sleep curled its roots deep into your mind, silencing your rampant thoughts.

Even still, your trepidation followed you into your slumber. That night, you dreamt your feet were comfortably buried into the warm sand that lined the shore of your city. You could wiggle your toes and feel the grains mingle between them playfully. Innumerable boats gently bobbed along the shoreline as fishermen reeled in catches of life to be later sold in markets. Brackish wind pulled at your hair and clothes, urging you towards the singing waves in front of you that danced along the coast. With the sun high in the sky, its rays illuminated the water before you with dazzling, hypnotic beauty; giving you no other choice but to give into your desires.

Your feet began to move on their own accord, trudging through the sand towards the beckoning water. It felt like you were called home by your mother, like someone tried to coax you into a warm embrace. Salty mist cooled your face, yet the closer you got to the water, the further it seemed to recede. No matter how close your feet came to kissing the waves, or how strong the taste of the water grew, it was always just beyond your reach.

As the waves retreated, it revealed the horrors that lurked underneath their pristine beauty. Rotten fish, shattered bones, decaying iron; remnants of an old battlefield laid at your feet with bodies strewn carelessly, left to spoil where they fell. Its acrid scent assaulted your nose, and you found yourself coughing on the foul smell as you attempted to push further, to no avail.

Something sharp caught your foot, and you found yourself on your hands and knees in the sopping wet sand. Though you didn’t dare to turn and look at the wound, you could feel the warm blood seep out of the gash in your skin, and you cried pitifully at the pain. All you wanted was to return to the sea, to feel the grace of its waves welcome you into its grasp. Instead, your tears streamed into the blood stained sand in front of you where the salt of humans mixed with the salt of nature.

Among the chaos and the pain, something began to grow in front of you. Delicate green stems unfurled from the mud, and you watched as flowers began to bloom faster than any you had ever seen before. Buds began to form on the end of the stems, and they soon blossomed into a beautiful array of colors. Delicate petals fluttered in the breeze, and their floral scent gave you slight reprieve from the rot that surrounded you. Anemones. Their dark centers made their bright yellows, pinks, and blues pop brightly against the dull sand behind them, and yet even with all that beauty, you couldn’t stop crying. All you could do was lay there and bleed.

When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the pale light of dawn that peeked through the shutters, illuminating the room with a dull glow. Birds quietly chirped in the distance as they woke from their slumber, and if you had been alone you would have stretched your arms out and basked in their melody.

But you were not alone.

Throughout the night, both John and Simon grew closer to you, so much so that their combined heat nearly cooked you from the inside out. As you became more aware of your predicament, you felt your heart almost cease its beating. Simon’s bare chest obscured most of your vision, and you felt his chin rest on the top of your head. His body was not quite pressed against your front, but he was still close enough that you had nowhere to move.

As for John, his body shamelessly pressed against your back. His legs fit snugly against the curve of your own, and his breath tickled the back of your neck with each exhale. To make matters worse, his hand rested on your waist as if it had known no other home, but it wasn’t just him. Simon’s fingers intertwined with John’s where they both held you close, keeping you secure, keeping you safe.

The thundering of your heart in your chest rattled so fiercely you feared it might wake them, yet they did not stir. If anything, they only moved closer, as if their incognizant minds could sense your apprehension and attempted to comfort you. By some miracle, it worked. It had been ages since you last felt the warmth of someone's touch, as not even your own father would offer you such solace. Your senses began to calm as the pounding in your chest subsided, and your body seemed to grow heavy with sleep once more.

Despite their nature, with their rough hands and scarred skin, they were so tender. They held you with care as if you would crumble otherwise, and something within you screamed that you didn’t deserve it. You had been nothing but cold and judgemental towards the both of them with the notion that you deserved better than what you were given, yet they still granted you patience.

Any other man would have put you in your place, or rather put you to work. If your tongue could not be stilled, then the least you could do was provide someone with an heir. There were many women who had been put on display in your city for insubordination. Some were paraded around like animals or freakish beasts to gawk at, while others were thrown to the icy depths of the ocean off the city’s highest cliff. You feared John and Simon would be like any other man, yet for some reason they weren’t.

But there was no time for you to dwell on such dejected thoughts. Not when you were so warmly wrapped in their embrace. For the first time in your life, you found your eyes drawing closed in the arms of another. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever felt so loved, and you realized that maybe their intentions were more pure than you had feared. Maybe all they truly wanted was to cherish you, and you found yourself silently praying that you could stay like that forever, if not, just a bit longer.

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #f!reader

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dnd-writes · 5 months

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Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Pt. 1

AO3

Tags: Non-con, this whole fic is just one whole degenerate lump of non-con, so warning all of you already at the beginning. BFH, very degenerate, unedited, Third-person PoV (cause easier that way), sex slave!Julie, sex slave!Natty, sex slave!Belle, sex slave!Haneul, sex slave!Kiss of Life, sexual slavery, sexual exploitation, contract manipulation, clothing control, slapping, punching, kicking, spitting, deflowering, anal deflowering, painal, dry vaginal sex, facefucking, cum on food, frozen dildos, I think that's all or most of it but you get the point

A/N: 1. First of all, thank you to @fillinforlater for the fic idea. Idk what the fuck happened, at first I was following the plot he laid out, then I changed this part, then I added this part, then this, then that, and I blink and all of a sudden I have this monstrosity of a fic 2. Fic has nothing to do with the song, just thought it would fit as a title 3. If anyone asks, for this fic I "changed the timeline" of KIOF's pre-debut stuff to essentially fit in June 2023, cause y'know, Haneul. 4. Part 1 cause Smite's prompt had a second part that I also want to write but it's gotten so long I decided to split the fic into two? parts.

It’s finally happened, she’s finally done it! After years of hardships and struggles Natty has finally achieved her goal of being in a K-pop girl group, the dream she once thought to be impossible now becoming a reality as she takes the pen and puts her signature down on the contract with tears filling her eyes. Some might call her crazy or an overreactor for bawling out but for someone who has gotten eliminated in the finals of not one but two survival shows, tears of joy sound like a reasonable reaction.

Although Natty has already spent nearly a decade training, she is still looking forward to training more with her new groupmates. Even if it might take a decade more, as long as her dream comes alive, to her it’s all worth it.

Natty expected to be surprised on her first day but she wasn’t ready to face what was in store for her. Having been a trainee for almost half her life, there’s no doubt that Natty has heard rumors about the industry, the drastic measures required to stay in form, the horrible things that happen away from prying eyes, the exploitation, the harassment. Though to her, they were all just rumors, just silly little things that people made up, little did she know that the rumors were just a teaser of what’s to come.

Natty goes through the front doors but instead of the vibrant and cheerful place she visited not long ago, the company now has a faint and eerie atmosphere. Lights are off, not a sign of any person in the immediate vicinity, it’s like the place never was alive to begin with. “Maybe I just came in at a wrong time,” she thinks as she navigates her way to her destination. Natty ascends to the fifth floor and as she makes it there, she hears subtle heavy breathing echoing along the halls. She decides not to get too curious and instead looks for the meeting place.

Natty stands just outside the door with a large smile prepared on her face, “This is it,” she tells herself as she gets ready to meet her new sisters. Her jolly expression quickly fades as she breaches the door, sitting inside are two of her three new groupmates. While very excited to finally meet them for the first time, what catches her attention the most are their outfits—both of them revealing way too much skin, a stark contrast to the jacket and jeans she has on. One of them is wearing booty shorts and a crop top cut short enough to barely cover her nipples and Natty notices that she doesn’t seem to have a bra underneath it. And all she can see on the other is a large red shirt barely making its way past her hips.

Natty forces back a smile, trying to regain the excitement she previously had. There’s just four seats in the middle of the room all facing each other and Natty takes one of the two empty ones. It was awkward at first but the tension slowly dissipated as the three began talking, though a sense of eeriness still lingers behind. They start off introducing themselves to each other and Natty quickly learns that it’s Haneul who is wearing the crop top and Belle is the one wearing the red shirt. Once they got the awkward introductions out of the way, they proceeded to talk about random things. They start to talk about their lives now, their lives as trainees in previous companies, how the two knew of Natty in her time in survival shows. Although, every time Natty would try to talk about their outfits, they would pause and take a deep breath but then they would either play it off as if it was a normal thing or just change the subject entirely.

With no obstructions between them, Natty can’t help but notice some details with their apparent choices of clothing. Natty doesn’t know if she’s just imagining it but when she looks at Haneul’s crop top, she swears she can see a hint of darkness which she can only guess to be are areolas. Then there’s Belle who is sitting in the chair across from her, her short red shirt hikes even higher up her body while she sits down and Natty can see, clear as day, Belle’s pussy just hanging in the breeze. Natty tries to ask her about it but Belle just looks at her as if she was a crazy person.

Eventually the last member arrives, Natty somewhat expected her to also be similarly dressed which she is but the state she came into the room in was what shocked her the most. The last member arrives wearing a yellow sundress though from the looks of it, it might be a size or two too small. As she stands there trying to introduce herself to Natty, she keeps on adjusting her dress, struggling between pulling it over her chest or pulling it below her hips. But her attire is the least alarming part, her hair is all frizzled, her lipstick is smeared, and there’s drops of liquid dripping from between her legs. Natty forces another smile as all four of them start to talk together. The mystery girl introduces herself as Julie, their new leader. Julie takes the remaining seat and, similar to Belle, her dress hikes up, even higher compared to Belle’s shirt, and Julie’s pussy is visible to everyone. No one comments on it but Natty quickly sees that a pool of white is forming between Julie’s legs and it seems to come from her pussy and her butt.

Natty was right in that her first day would be full of surprises, though she did not expect to be such horrible and gut wrenching surprises. On her way home, she starts to recall the rumors she has heard over the years and after thinking back to what she saw earlier, they’re starting to become less like rumors and more like the harsh reality of the industry. But Natty brushes the thoughts aside, thinking to herself that her dream of being part of a K-pop group is being fulfilled and if it means even worse and troubling obstacles, then she will just overcome them too. She has had years of training, what’s a questionable dress code compared to that?

The next day arrives and Natty tries to remain optimistic, wearing another bright smile as she enters the practice room, though just like the day before it quickly drops. There’s a fifth person joining them that day and Natty can only assume he’s their choreographer only except he’s wearing nothing but shorts. While his toned body is in no doubt hot and amazing, given the situation and the very very prominent tent he’s sporting, Natty is deeply disturbed.

She says hi to him and then at her group mates who she has just noticed are still wearing the same outfits as the day before albeit with some slight changes—Haneul’s isn’t even covering her chest anymore, just dangling like a necklace above her shoulders; Belle’s red shirt has streaks of white all over the front; and Julie’s dress has a rip at the top as if her breasts were breaking free. Natty couldn’t even find the time to feel sorry for them as the man starts to talk to her as she comes in. “Hey, you’re the new girl right? What are you wearing?”

Natty stands frozen in place. She hasn’t gotten any sort of instructions or clothing to wear. Has she missed something?

The man carries some papers over to her. “Did you not read this?” Natty recognizes the papers he’s holding, it’s the contract she signed. He flips through the pages and gives it to her, “See? Right here.” He points at the clause labeled “Attire” and Natty reads through the fine print. “In the company, the members should wear what is given to them or any clothing that they have. Provided that their tops have sleeves not longer than 10 cm and bottoms not longer than 20 cm.” With just her luck, she’s wearing a sweater and jeans that day. Natty couldn’t believe this, she remembers reading every detail of the contract but not once has she seen this. Natty continues to read the page and the next clause is labeled “Sex.” It reads, “The members cannot object to their bodies being touched or used by the employees of S2 Entertainment. The members must follow every order given to them, whether they are willing to do so or not. If the task is impossible to do, the members must accomplish it to the best of their ability. None of this can be mentioned to anyone outside of S2 Entertainment.” Natty could not believe her eyes, such inhuman clauses on her own contract. She hastily checks the last page and there sits her signature, bright as day. She looks at the others in disbelief but they can only stare right back at her with empty expressions.

The man grabs the papers back. “Well? The clothes we have are still in the laundry, so unless you have spare clothes with you or something, the only solution is to undress.” Natty looks at the others again for help but they just shake their heads and Julie mouths “Sorry” to her. “Are you going to do something about it or do you want me to take care of it?” Driven by fear of getting manhandled, Natty turns around and rushes to take her clothes off. Even with her back to everyone, she can feel the stares stabbing into her back. She feels so sick and dirty as she takes her sweater off and as she shimmies her pants off of her hips, she doesn’t realize she was involuntarily shaking her ass for everyone not until the man squeezes her butt.

Natty shivers in the cold room but it pales in comparison to being just in her underwear. Though it’s just the choreographer she has to be worried about, the lustful stare he gives her is enough to make her cry. Julie tries to console Natty but not a second later Natty hears a slap echo in the room, she looks up to see the choreographer in front of Julie who’s holding the side of her face.

The rest of the day goes pretty ok given the circumstances, mostly just going over the song and the choreography that went along with it, though their instructor occasionally helped himself to cop a feel while teaching and he seemed to be most interested in Natty, always focusing on her mistakes, groping and feeling every inch of her body as he “teaches” the dance.

The next day, Natty moves into the group’s dorm. “This time, it will be better,” she tells herself, maintaining that bright and optimistic perspective on life. She hopes that in the dorm it will be much funner and freeing, just her and her group mates living together and hanging out all the time.

She opens the door and peers inside, to her surprise it’s really clean and quiet. Although she’s been very optimistic about things, deep down she was expecting similar horrors to what she has seen the previous days and seeing such a pristine and spacious living space is enough of a relief for her. After bringing her things through the door, Natty explores the place. In the living room there’s a huge flatscreen TV and a couch big enough to fit more than four people, and in the kitchen there’s lots of space available and a big fridge. Natty checks the fridge and salivates seeing lots of veggies and drinks inside, then she checks the freezer and almost falls to her knees from hunger seeing all the meat. Natty was about to slam the door shut when she notices a red dildo slightly hidden in one of the layers, she gives it a touch and confirms that it is ice cold. She blushes slightly, thinking that one of her group mates is kinky like that.

Natty hops over to the rooms, excited to see what those are like after seeing how extravagant the common areas are. She first checks on the room to the right, as she goes in she’s met with a very odd-looking room, half is very bland and empty while the other half is very decorated. “This must be my side,” she whispers while looking at the empty space. Over in the decorated half she sees Haneul fast asleep in her bed, seeing her wearing pajamas and not some skimpy outfit brings a smile to her face.

Natty closes the door gently as she makes her way to the next room. She barges through the door and immediately regrets it, the dorm which she expected to be their “safe space” away from the shit they have to go through at the company, turns out to just be an elegant looking prison. Natty was so happy about the place but unfortunately, it was too good to be true.

Natty sees three people all in one bed. Nearest to her is Belle, lying on her back and sobbing into her hands while a red dildo is shoved in her ass. Next to her is Julie and some man relentlessly pounding into her from behind. Only the man reacts to Natty’s arrival, looking over his shoulder to smile at Natty, it’s a different man, one Natty hasn’t met before. “Hi, Natty… I’m your… manager… Will you be a good girl and… pull that out of Belle?”

Natty should feel offended by such a crude question but after a week of “training,” she’s gotten to know better. Disgusted and disturbed yet Natty still drags her feet across the floor towards the three of them. “Just pull it out but do it slowly, don’t want to hurt her… even more,” he quickly adds the last part, chuckling as he does so, clearly enjoying himself at the expense of Julie’s and Belle’s pain.

Natty glances at Belle, her face hidden in her hands, her body red and blue all over, her ass adorned with a bright red toy. She touches the base and immediately recalls her hand, it’s cold, ice cold. Natty considers herself a fool for even thinking for a moment that the freezer dildo was a kink thing, perhaps it might, but not for the person she thought it to be.

Belle’s quiet sobs turn to whines as Natty starts pulling the dildo out, the sound alone is enough to bring tears to Natty’s eyes, knowing that even though she’s helping, she’s still causing some pain. Natty continues to pull but at her slow pace it feels like it would take forever, she doesn’t even know how long the dildo is and as more inches get pulled out, the more worried she gets knowing how far it was in Belle and how much it could have hurt.

Finally she pulls the thing out which calms Belle, her asshole closes back up, her body relaxes, and her cries die down. Natty looks at the dildo in her hand, the thing is almost as long as her forearm, she quickly throws it away and out of her sight.

Their manager turns to see that Natty has done what he requested, he gives Belle a slap on the ass and then Natty a pat on the head. “Oh nice… you’re a good girl... Natty… So here’s… your reward…” Before Natty could process anything he said or did, she feels her hair being yanked and her face quickly diving towards the bed. He makes her face to the side and starts to paint Natty in his cum. She hasn’t felt cum yet, let alone seen a dick in person, but the warmth and stench it leaves is enough for her to hate it.

“Wake Haneul up and have her clean you up, or you could just drink it all yourself, I wouldn’t mind. Just make sure to record, ok? When you’re done, Natty, meet me in my room, it’s at the end of the hall.”

And just like that he leaves, satisfied and so full of himself, while the three girls lay exhausted and broken.

Julie is the first one to recover among the three of them. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll go get Haneul, he hates waiting too long.” Before Julie can step away, Natty grabs her wrist. “N-No! I’ll do it. I’ll… try to do it.”

“You sure? Alright then. My advice is just do it quickly. Hwaiting.” Julie flashes a weak smile and raises her fist for encouragement and Natty reciprocates the action.

Julie takes her phone and starts recording. Natty sits at the edge of the bed with Belle just slightly out of the shot. Natty scoops up all the cum on the side of her face, just doing so disgusts her immensely. With most of the white liquid in her palm, she puts everything in her mouth and gulps it all down. For a second all is well but the aftertaste hits her like a truck and she starts coughing again and again. She expected to hate it but it was beyond awful. Only when Natty calms down does Julie stop recording.

“Go to his room, it’s on the left. I’ll just put this back in the freezer,” says Julie as she picks up the dildo from the floor.

“He hates waiting.” Natty repeats, with no time to rest, she gets to her feet and moves to the manager’s room. Natty’s hand reaches for the doorknob but she stops herself before she can even touch it. This time around she opts to knock instead of just barging in. “Come in,” says the voice from the other side. Natty enters the room, it looks much bigger and more grand than the other rooms, a bigger bed, a TV, a mini-fridge, it was practically its own apartment. “So nice of you to knock, you’re still dressed but that’s an easy fix.”

She notices him ruffling through some stuff in his drawer, she tries to take a peek but he closes it before she can see what was inside. In his hands are a remote and a collar with her name on it. “We just met a few minutes ago but I think you’re my favorite already.” He puts the collar on her, tightening it so it fits exactly around her neck. “Whenever you’re here at the dorm, you have to wear this, ok? And everytime I press this button.” He raises the remote and clicks it, sending a small stinging sensation to Natty’s neck. “You have to come to me. It’s only at one right now but if you’re not here within five minutes of me clicking it, it goes up by one, permanently.” Natty gulps but with the collar snug around her neck, it made it a little uncomfortable.

“Ok so where’s the video?”

“Ah, Ju-”

As her name is mentioned, Julie barges into the room, phone outstretched with the video ready to play.

“Ah, there it is. Thank you, Julie.” Julie hands her phone over and stands in place, like a robot waiting for her next command. “Aww, look at Belle sleeping so peacefully. Oh wonderful, drinking it all by yourself. See, I knew you would be my favorite.” He hands the phone back to Julie and she starts to leave but before she makes it out he issues one final order for her. “Julie, be a dear and get Haneul. She’s been sleeping all day, I haven’t had my fun with her yet. Actually, you know what? Now that Natty’s here, just get everyone.”

With just the two of them left in the room, he walks over to Natty. Seeing his erect dick twitching so much causes her to involuntarily step backwards and his brows suddenly furrow. “Now, now, Natty.” The sudden change in his tone and expression is enough to strike fear in her heart, afraid of a punishment she puts her foot back to its original spot causing his smile to return.

“Sweaters. Always so annoying, I heard you’re huge but I can’t really tell with that stupid thing hiding your tits. From now on in the dorm, Natty, only wear tight tops. Oh, better yet, no tops at all. The only thing I want to see you wearing above your hips is that collar.”

Instantly Natty’s hands start to move, getting rid of any clothing on her torso as soon as the new rule is implemented. She can see it in his eyes, hunger ever growing with each article of clothing she removes. As soon as her shirt comes off, he starts salivating. “My, oh my, you’re huge. Looks like Julie’s got competition.” Natty reaches behind herself to unhook her bra but pauses for a moment, she realizes this is the first time she would show her breasts to anyone, many have touched and played with them at the company but not one has unveiled her boobs. As her bra falls, his dick twitches in excitement.

The rest of the group arrives. Belle is the first to enter, her legs very tired and her ass still very sore. Next comes Haneul, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Last is Julie, her head held high and her face serious, looking like a guard rounding up the inmates although she isn’t any less of a prisoner compared to the other girls in the room. The four just stand in silence like mannequins and their manager walks around and gropes whatever he pleases as if doing some inspection.

“Haneul… what did we say?” says the manager very disappointedly. His tone shocks her awake, “I-I’m sorry,” she bows then starts getting out of her clothes. He scoots over to her and slaps her in the face. “I’ll let you off easy this time since Natty’s finally here but I’m doubling the next punishment.”

After Haneul, he moves over to Belle, whose legs are barely keeping her standing. “You cross me again, I’ll make sure you won’t even be able to walk for the rest of the day.” He punches Belle and she easily drops to the ground sobbing, he kicks her while she’s down to add insult to injury. Natty can only shiver upon hearing everything happen behind her, does she even want to know what Belle did to make him so mad?

He moves over to Julie and the first thing he does is spit on her face then he uses his fingers to smear it all over. Julie keeps her composure, just closing her eyes as he plays with her face, not flinching or whining at all. “You should thank Natty for being here, ‘cause you’ll finally have some time to rest.” His hands cup her breasts, giving them a proper feel before he moves on to a bigger and better pair.

Finally he comes back around to Natty, the only person in the room with any piece of clothing still on. “Tell me, Natty… Have you fucked before?” Natty gulps again knowing the implications, though it was bound to happen eventually. She shakes her head and he smiles. “Oh, a virgin? So many people in that building and not one has fucked you? Well their loss, we’re gonna have so much fun together.”

“Change of plans girls, looks like I need some ‘catching up’ to do with Natty. Go do whatever you want for now, we’ll be here for a full day or two.”

But just before he dismisses them, he goes back to Belle, still on the ground holding her side. He spits on her face too but this time he uses his foot to smear her face. “Don’t think I’m done with you just yet. Be ready for your final ‘lesson’ when I’m done with Natty. Now go, all three of you, leave.”

It’s wicked really, how sick and twisted all of this is, all the expectations Natty had, completely flipped around. Shining eyes looking up to her turns out to be lustful stares looking down, helping hands turn out to be forceful gropes, and managers turn out to be owners. Natty looks over her shoulder with tears starting to form in her eyes, though her hands remain still, her stare acts like a hand reaching out to save her from the depths of hell but alas, all Haneul and Julie could do is return similar sad gestures as they carry Belle away.

The manager locks the door as the three leave and immediately gets back to Natty, even with all the time in the world at his disposal, he wouldn’t want to waste a single second. With the rest of the group gone, Natty feels even more miniscule and useless, even more of a toy as his gaze is solely on her. He comes up behind her and fills his hands with her tits, with Julie’s he can still grasp the whole thing in his hands but Natty’s can barely be fully contained. He starts to fondle and play with her nipples while slowly moving his mouth closer to her neck.

Natty easily starts to moan loudly, she wants to keep quiet to avoid giving him that pleasure but her complete lack of experience and the resulting lack of tolerance betrays her. He sniffs along her neck, “You smell so good and your tits… so fucking soft.” He finds a patch of skin along the front of her neck and starts to kiss and suckle on it, Natty explodes into a moaning mess, shouting in pleasure as if she’s having the time of her life.

The pleasure gets cut short as his hands move down to her waist. “Sweatpants… another cock blocker. From now on, just don’t wear anything, Natty. Your body is so hot and irresistible, wouldn’t want any clothes hiding your beauty. Don’t worry about getting cold, just come to me and you’ll be warmed up in no time.” His fingers slip into the waistbands and he slides both her underwear and her sweatpants down to the ground. He’s the first one to see her tits and now he’s also the first one to see her bare ass and pussy. As much as she doesn't want to think about it, he probably will be the first dick she takes in every hole.

The manager circles Natty slack-jawed and wide-eyed as if admiring a sculpture he has just made. “Fat ass, soft and heavy tits, pretty face. You’re just the perfect little toy, aren’t you? And a virgin too, just the absolute best, if I could I would just own you forever but sadly I’ve got a job to do. Although… maybe I can have you be my roommate instead of Haneul’s, that’s probably the closest I’ll get.” He leans down and frowns at what he sees. “Unshaved, unfortunate, guess you can’t have absolutely everything but it’ll do. First thing I want you to do when you’re out of this room is get that shaved, got it?” Natty’s been unmoving and frozen in place for so long that it takes her a second before nodding her head.

The manager pushes Natty onto the bed then flips her to face him. Her full body is on display for him, each delicacy just sitting idle like food in a buffet, up for grabs at any time. He licks his lips as he considers his options.

“Two virgin holes, which to try first? The other three bitches came here already used, so this will be a first for you and me.” He slaps his dick against her pussy, grinding on it and feeling the slight hint of wetness it’s giving off. Next he considers her asshole, very puckered and looking very small compared to the head of his cock as he pokes her with it. He licks a finger and prods inside, the way his finger barely pushes through excites him and the way Natty winces seals the deal for him.

He lifts Natty’s legs up and hooks them over his shoulders, giving him a perfect angle to ravage her ass. He lines himself up and slowly pushes his way in, not even bothering to spread her cheeks to mitigate the tightness. Natty is already breathing heavily as she feels her asshole stretching to accommodate him. “Please,” she begs. “It… It won’t fit.”

He just smiles and caresses her cheek. “That’s the fun part, a tiny virgin asshole broken open by my cock. I’m gonna remember this forever.”

As soon as Natty’s sphincter spreads wide enough for his girth, he shoves the whole thing inside. “AHHHH!!! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT!” Natty fires a blood-curdling scream as his cock swiftly overwhelms her. It hurt for him too given how dry her butt is but only barely, plus her cries only work to alleviate him.

He locks her legs in his arms and her hips in his hands to keep her from moving. Her hands might be free but Natty doesn’t have the strength or the courage to lift them up. Her ass feels like it’s on fire from the dry friction between the two of them. To her, it’s like hell. To him, the fire feels like an invigorating force.

Her anal walls hug him so tightly, it’s like Natty’s ass is begging him to fill her up and who is he to turn down such a request. Her ass is so tight, it’s practically milking him dry, any tighter and he might not be able to pull out. In just a few minutes he starts to orgasm, the hardest and fastest one he’s had with any of the four girls. He pulls out and scrambles to find his phone, wanting to cherish this moment forever. “Second load of cum and many more to go. You’re gonna be such a wonderful cum bucket, Natty, milking me everyday. You’re going to love my cum and my dick in no time.”

Natty tries to stand, to do something, anything, but her body is just worn out already, completely exhausted, completely given up. The manager, on the other hand, is the exact opposite, even after tearing Natty’s asshole apart, he’s still hard and ready for another round. This time he has his eyes set on her cherished virginity.

He hooks her legs back onto his shoulders but this time he carries her then pins her to the wall with her wrists bound by his hand above her head. While flexibility isn’t a problem for Natty, she is now face to face with her assaulter. She closes her eyes and looks away but that doesn’t stop her from feeling his hot breath on her face. His tongue pokes out and licks along her cheek, tasting her tears and her sweat, he leaves a trail of his saliva as he travels from her jaw to her ear. “So salty, so delicious. Everything about you is so delicious, you know that? Now I’m gonna enjoy fucking your pussy, I’m gonna see just how tight you fucking are.”

Tears fall nonstop from her eyes. Natty’s sobbing grows strong as she feels his heat pressing against hers. She so badly wants to beg him to stop, to let her rest, but her voice can’t manage to form words and she knows he wouldn’t listen anyway.

He lines himself up with her folds and in one swift motion, he pistons his cock inside. “AHHHH!!! FUCK! PLEASE!!!” her voice only manages to come back during moments of intense pain. “Oh, Natty, your cunt. Fuuuuuuck, that’s the best pussy ever.” Her pussy is heavenly, it’s so tight that it’s almost orgasmic when he penetrates her. He just loves the way Natty squeezes around him. He also loves hearing her cry out in pain, to him it’s like a choir of angels. He relishes in the feeling of Natty’s pussy, living in his own twisted version of heaven.

As he pounds into her from below, Natty’s tits bounce freely in front of him and he doesn’t waste a second as his mouth latches onto her chest, after all, a little side dish won’t hurt while he enjoys the main meal. He bites her nipples, pulling and squeezing them with his teeth, only adding more pain to what Natty is already experiencing.

The two of them fucked endlessly in that locked room while the other three finally got some rest, though they couldn’t quite live in blissful harmony as Natty’s screaming kept them aware of their situation, the walls were thin enough to let Natty’s wails of terror flood the whole dorm. While the other three girls were able to sleep through it, in the morning they still heard Natty screaming and begging, though her voice much weaker and hoarser.

There’s just so much to do with Natty, just pure lust and adrenaline fueling the manager all throughout the night. All the positions he could take her in, all the things he can do, all the possibilities, everything that Natty’s body can offer, he takes. He fucked her all over the room, didn’t even matter how or where, he just slams her down somewhere and fucks her in whatever hole he felt fit. He fucked her face against the wall, then fucked her ass while he pressed her face onto the floor, then fucked her pussy while missionary on the floor, then fucked her ass doggystyle on the bed, then fucked her face while her head hung off the bed, then fucked her ass in the shower. Just so much cum in and on her body in the span of a couple of hours and yet he is still going strong.

The next day comes around and there doesn’t seem to be any lapse in their action. Stretching from before the rise of the sun all the way to after it set, just endless screaming of pure pain and agony coming from Natty. The only time the manager interacted with the rest of the girls was when he asked Julie to cook up a meal for them. The door finally opened again for the first time in two days as Julie brought her cooking.

“Ah, pork belly, I’m starving. Thank you so much, Julie. I see you’ve gotten comfortable without me pestering you all the time,” he says as he sees Julie wearing some pajamas. “Oh, two plates? We won’t be needing that,” he chuckles as he returns the second set of utensils as well. Just before the door closes, Julie takes a peek over his shoulder and sees Natty practically lifeless on the floor. The manager gives Julie a quick smile, proud of his own work, then locks the door.

The manager walks over to the bed and nudges Natty with his foot before getting himself comfortable. Natty, almost void of all energy, springs to life as she smells the delicious food. Natty sits patiently, silently jealous as she stares at her manager eating all by himself. He points to his dick and Natty can only sigh as she lowers her face in front of it.

The manager puts his hand on the back of her head and Natty opens her mouth, but instead of pushing down he says, “Let’s play a game, Natty. If you make me cum before I finish the food, you can have the rest of it.”

Natty doesn’t exactly have much knowledge on how to pleasure a dick, her only experience being the one dick that’s been forced in her body the past two days. She’s already come to terms with the fact that she might not eat for two days straight but regardless she tries her best.

Natty employs the small pieces of advice she’s heard him tell her. Even though she’s basically just moving her head along his length, judging from his moans he seems to be enjoying it so she goes faster.

“Fuck, Natty. Fuck… I’m gonna cum…” He takes over this time, gripping the back of her head as she immediately chokes. “Don’t… swallow it, fuck.” He struggles to squeeze his words out of his mouth as another orgasm makes its way into Natty’s mouth, only this time around it pools on her tongue. She already hates cum to begin with, cringing inside whenever she would taste it but with a whole load lingering in her mouth, revolting is an understatement. She struggles to hold it all in, not just because of the taste but also because of how much he gave her, her cheeks are full and just a little more it would probably overflow.

He holds the plate of what’s about a quarter of the total meat still left on it. “Spit,” he commands and without hesitation she opens her mouth and deposits the batch onto the plate. “Go on, everything, spit into it.” She does as ordered, mixing the remnants with saliva and spitting onto the food. He spits onto the plate as well and mixes the meat with the “sauce” then puts it on the other side of the bed from her. “Go eat.”

Natty tries to get up and walk to the other side but the manager has other plans. He grabs her hair again and pulls her across the bed, forcing her to kneel down. “Come on, eat up.” He moves over behind her and lines up with her pussy. “Don’t waste anything, when you’re done I want that plate clean.” Natty stares at the disgusting abomination in front of her and she feels even more disgusted and degraded knowing that even when it comes to food she’s being treated like a dog. Her stomach gurgles, no matter how disgusting the food may be, she still has to eat. Natty tries to look at the brighter side of things, at the very least she’s eating actual food and not some slop that looks inedible.

On the third day of her imprisonment, Natty is completely exhausted and broken. She just lies on her back, barely even reacting to anything her manager does anymore, there’s cum on almost every inch of her body and yet she doesn’t bother to clean it.

Julie knocks to bring them breakfast, the manager gets the door but instead of just taking the food he tells Julie to give it to Natty. “She’s not fun anymore so I’ll be going back to you guys. And besides, the company is looking for her, can’t have her here forever.” As soon as the manager leaves, Julie rushes over to Natty and tends to her.

The manager, clearly unsatisfied with Natty’s unresponsiveness and clearly needing a release, turns to Belle for release.

“AHHH!!! Wait, no, please… I’m sorry.” He barges into her room and she immediately shrieks upon seeing him. In the short span of two days, she’s gotten used to not being around him but here he is to remind her of her place. “I promise I won’t do it again, I—” She tries to get away but she’s stuck in the corner and all she can do is sink herself further into it. He doesn’t stop or even think for a second about what he’s doing, he just walks up and punches her face, adding another bruise to the multiple he’s given her.

“Haneul? Get in here!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. While waiting, he pulls Belle’s face to the edge of the bed and starts facefucking her, all the while alternating between slapping her tits and punching her pussy.

“Haneul?!” he calls again after a few minutes. After cumming down Belle’s throat and Haneul still hasn’t arrived, he marches over to her room. Not really to his surprise, he finds Haneul sleeping soundly in her bed. For one second he smiles, admiring her beauty before proceeding to ruin it.

He punches her which brings her wide awake. He tugs her hair to bring her face close to his. “Always sleeping, you lazy cunt. Maybe you need a lesson too.” Haneul screams and thrashes as she’s dragged across the floor by her hair towards Belle’s room.

The next few days and weeks go by with the members somewhat getting used to and coping with the treatment that they are going through. Lots of practicing and “training” happens at the company, mostly the latter, then their manager has fun with them at the dorm. At the very least their manager is kind, all things considered, just as long as they follow his orders, so they still get to somewhat relax at the dorm. And whenever no one is using their bodies, the girls hang out, talk with each other, and comfort each other, growing a bond and giving each other hope to carry on until they debut.

The month ends and it’s finally time for Kiss of Life to debut. The four are no doubt incredibly excited, they finally get to wear clothes that cover most of their body, finally have some time away from the perverts, and most of all, they finally get to debut and live out their dreams of being K-pop idols, though little do they know what their company still has in store for them, even in public view.

A/N 2: So if you made it here, congratulations, you're as much of a degenerate as I am :). Anyway, while part 1 is mostly focused on Natty, part 2 would likely be four "mini-fics" in one, each focusing on one member. Subject to change but most likely it would be like that

#kpop #kpop smut #kiss of life #kiss of life smut #natty #natty smut #julie #julie smut #belle #belle smut #haneul #haneul smut

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heartpiratedrabbles · 4 months

Text

Insecurities

Prompt: Buggy with all his insecurities pushes you away on your 1 year anniversary

NSFW

~ Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Buggy X Fem Reader

You hummed happily looking down at your creation, it had been a scrapbook of all the adventures with your lover throughout the year. You can’t quite say the two of you are dating, Buggy had always refused the outright commitment. But it wasn’t a secret that when he started sleeping with you he had stopped looking for one-night stands, nor was it a secret that when another person looked at you they would befall injury soon after. And for now, you were content with just being close to him.

As you flip through the pages you can’t help but smile at all the memories, the small pictures, notes, and knickknacks that could be glued down seemed like an organized mess. Alvida, despite her cold exterior had helped you put it all together and helped with distracting Buggy when he’d come looking for you. After your final flip through you gingerly close the book, placing it in a box, and wrap it in striped paper, topping it with a bow.

Throughout the year Buggy had his ups and downs, you learned quickly what topics to avoid, and while he went crazy for you, you could always tell he kept himself at a distance. The sex was wild and he’d like to leave marks on your body to make sure any wandering eyes knew you were taken, but any words of affirmation would make him withdraw for a couple days. You were hoping that now that it had been a full year he would realize you were serious about this, even if he refused to commit fully to the title.

You walk towards the Captains room that you two had shared at this point for a couple months. You still had a hammock and chest in the females quarters but more often than not the Captain would pull you to his bed, refusing to let you go.

As you get into the room you close the door and start getting ready for the other gift you had prepared, a rather skimpy jester outfit with lingerie underneath. You knew how much he liked to undress you, teasing you every so slowly piece by piece. The anticipation of what was to come had started to make you wet. You push your thoughts to the side as you continue to prepare the room, candles dimly lit the room and you placed the wrapped gift on the clown vanity before going to the bed. Buggy’s meeting should be ending any minute now and you're sure Alvida had hinted at him to find you.

As you get comfortable you grab the fluffy handcuffs he had jokingly bought a while back and silk ribbon, tying it around your eyes before restraining yourself. You lay down, arms above your head, impatiently waiting for what was to come.

~~~

Buggy was angry, the meeting with Crocodile and Mihawk hadn’t gone as planned. They had made jabs at his nose and how he runs his Delivery Service. On top of all that Alvida kept making snide remarks about looking for Y/N. And the thought of you also made him frustrated, you never acted how he thought you would.

Buggy took his time prodding you and pushing you over time, and every single time you had come back with a smile. At some point, Buggy had been worried about you running away without notice and demanded you stay in his room and you did so without complaint. He couldn’t understand when you’d snap.

He had rejected you countless times, refusing to truly make you his right-hand man, on the other hand, he did buy you gifts every so often to keep you close. Maybe you just wanted the items, the treasures, the fame. His mind couldn’t wrap around how you would stay with him. As he was grumbling walking into his room he is frozen at the sight in front of him.

Candles barely lighting up the delicious scene in front of him. You looked absolutely helpless there on the bed. Your knees together, slightly rubbing your thighs against each other, your face flushed and lips slightly parted with small mewls coming out. Your hands, restrained by the joke gift he bought months ago, your arms slightly moving to get more comfortable.

Buggy quietly close the door behind him, watching as he can see your thought process, moving your hands down to touch yourself but just barely stopping in time and moving them back above your head. Buggy grinned, knowing you hadn’t realized he was there yet, a slowly went to the bed.

Buggy noticed the outfit your wearing resembling that of a jester, but also noticed how your shorts were un-buttoned, clearly from you let your desire got the best of you.

As you rub your thighs together again, for any friction, you decide to give up on waiting, and fully let your desires get the best of you. But as you move your hands down, you feel a hand forcefully pin your hands above your head while another grips your thigh fiercely.

You let a gasp out at the sudden touch before trying to grind down onto the hand. “Ruining my present princess?” The fierce tone of Buggy’s voice came as he moved his hand to your hips, holding you in place and you feel the bed dip and him straddle you, “Well that won’t do at all~” You groan, feeling him bite at your collar bone, “It’s like you want to be punished.” He emphasize his words with a slight thrust forward, and you can feel how hard he is through the layers of clothes.

“B-Buggy please~” You try to meet his hips with your own and you can just hear him ‘tsk’ above you. Opting to attach the handcuffs to the head board, truly trapping your hands above your head and you to the bed.

Buggy slowly spreads your legs, hiking your own around his thighs so you can’t close them and begins his torment of fondling you. Slowly brushing a hand against the bare skin of your neck while the other teases at the edge of your shorts, all the while you squirm to get anything more. “You know you’re not supposed to play with yourself unless I’m here, doll~” Buggy coons before biting your neck. He rocked his hips forward before moving his hand by your shorts up to the edge of your shirt that was much closer to being a glorified bra than anything else. He trailed his up towards your breast, gripping it harshly. His other hand trailing to your moaning mouth, “Suck.” You feel 2 fingers intrude in your mouth as you wrap you lips around them, swirling your tongue, thoroughly coating the two digits.

Buggy groans at the feeling, “Good girl” as you continue to suck his other hand leaves your boob and soon enough you can feel a blade gently caress the skin of your stomach, making you shudder. “Now tell me Doll, how long were you here” Buggy muttered, leaving a trail of hickies up your neck. He removed his fingers from your mouth, opting to place his hand right at the top of your shorts, where they had remained unbuttoned from when you were alone.

“Since your meeting started,” You could feel his gaze on you even if you couldn’t see, “Please Buggy, I’ve been waiting for so long” You added, which seemed to please your Captain. He kissed you deeply as his two fingers swirled around your clit making you groan into the kiss. You could feel the blade slowly cut through your top on bra, so much for him undressing you, you thought. You grinded you hips into his fingers, wanting more. He lets you breathe for a second, “Buggy, baby, please I want you” you begged as you became completely topless.

You heard Buggy hum a bit before removing his hand from where you wanted him the most, “But that would be too easy Y/N,” You could hear his smirk in his voice. In one fell motion you felt him cut your shorts and panties off, you felt the blade gingerly swipe across your folds, the cool metal causing a moan to escape your lips before you heard it be thrown across the room. “Look at how wet you are for me” He cooed, both hands on your hips as he lowered his head towards your entrance.

You felt his nose bump against your clit and his hot breath against you but he stayed stilled. You groan and roll you hips up trying to get any form of contact but his hands hold you down. “C-Captain Please. I want- I need you,” You begin begging, feeling tears of frustration fill your eyes, “Please Buggy.” You try to rock your hips up again to no avail.

“Well if you wanted it that badly,” His lips barely brushing against you as he speaks, “All you had to do was ask.” And we that he plunges his tongue inside you. You cry out in pleasure and try to release your hands from the restraints. You couldn’t see anything, but you could feel everything so much more because of it, the swirl of his togue hitting a bundle of nerves before darting back inside, sucking with the perfect amount of pressure.

It wasn’t long before you could feel your climax coming, “Buggy I’m gonna cum,” You mewled out. “Please let me cum” You added, knowing how much he loved it but to your disappointment he withdrew.

“Not yet doll,” He trailed a line of wet kisses up your body until he was at the corner of your mouth, “We’re not at the main event yet~” And before you could even respond you felt his entire length thrust into you in full force. Your cry from both pain and pleasure being muted out as Buggy places his lips on you. He was flush inside you but that didn’t stop him from rocking his hips slowly and deeper causing you to squirm underneath him.

You turn your face away from Buggy, trying to catch your breath, “Buggy I want to see you” You cried out with each rock making another noise escape your lips. His hips stop deep inside you and you feel a hand snake behind your head to untie the ribbon covering your eyes before he caresses your cheek while making eye contact.

You move your eyes up and down, taking in the man before you, his make-up smeared from his earlier activities and lust in his eyes. A smirk falls on his lips, “Can’t get enough doll?” he asks before setting a gruesome, rough pace, His name escape your lips as you shake against the restraints still on your wrists, “That’s it doll, let me hear how much you love this.”

At some point Buggy reached up to undo the handcuffs, and you immediately wrap you arms around Buggy’s neck, one hand snaking into his hair, as he buries his face into your neck. Even if he wanted to pull away you had an iron grip on him. Your legs similarly wrapped around his waist, aiding you in meeting his thrusts half way, “Please Buggy, let me cum” You moan into his ear as you tighten around him.

You can hear him cursing under his breath, “Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up tonight.” He nipped at your earlobe and his words sent you over the edge, causing you to hold him as tight as possible. He rarely ever came inside you, normally opting to paint your stomach or face in white. “Come on doll, cum with me” He moaned in your ear as his thrusts became slightly more erratic but much deeper.

You scream his name as you feel him pump inside you and after a couple of seconds, he collapses on top of you. He uses his elbows to prop up just enough to make sure you can still breathe and you slowly unhook your legs from around him, both of you still catching your breath. As you relax you can still feel how you were pulsing and how sore it had become.

You feel Buggy slowly pull out of you, a small gush of cum following him and brings about a different type of pleasure, “Fuck doll-“ Buggy says while looking down at the mess he made of you, “That was a positively divine performance” He chuckles before flopping next to you on the bed.

You hum a bit before turning your back to him and lifting your head, He in turns towards you, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other settles underneath your neck and wraps around, grabbing one of your breasts. He pulls you closer into the embrace and you groan at the pressure. “We should clean up” You mutter, feeling your eyes getting heavier.

“Mmm. We can do that in the morning” he gives your waist another small squeeze, “Besides I like the idea of my cum still dripping from you in the morning” He kisses your jawline a little bit, “Maybe even a round two when we wake up.” He lays his head down as you both let sleep take you.

~~~

The next morning you had woken up to Buggy drawing circles in your hips with his thumbs as he gently worked you up again for the round two he had mentioned. At the moment however you were both in the bath, you sitting on your Captains lap, leaning against his chest.

“So what did I do to deserve that gift,” Buggy asked, his head leaning back but still humming softly at what had conspired over the past couple hours. “It’s not everyday I find a sweet treat waiting for me in bed.”

You lean against him a bit more thinking about how to phrase it. After all it wasn’t truly your one year, he had rejected you’re advances for commitment every time. “Well…” You’d have to choose your words carefully as to not start an argument. “It’s been a full year since the first time we slept together.”

You felt him tense up a bit but relax quickly enough. He stayed quiet for a while before sighing, “Well it was nice.” He kept it short. You knew he was doing his best not to be snide and you were wondering if you shouldn’t tell him about his other gift, the one that you actually put time into. Shifting a bit nervously he could tell you wanted to say something, “What is it?” You could feel him leaning into a bad mood.

“…It’s nothing, Don’t worry bout it Captain” You say glancing over your shoulder. The silence that fell was heavy and slightly uncomfortable.

“Doll.” Buggy leaned forward a bit, “You know I don’t like it when you lie,” he places his hands on your hips and squeeze a bit, “So why don’t you do us both a favor and spit it out?”

“Um, well you see Captain…” You look over your shoulder again, seeing the small scowl that was forming on his face. It’d be for the best not to mention the scrap book, take it and hide it before he sees the box, “It’s just the same ole’. We should just start dating; everyone already knows I’m yours.” You quickly look forward not wanting to see how his face will contort with a mix of emotions.

The grip on your hips got tighter, not in the normal way of warning or reassurance. “What do you want from me?” Buggy’s voice was low and his body unmoving. Your hips slowly started to ache as his fingers dug in harder.

“What? Buggy I want you; I’ve always wanted you,” You tried to say. He was clearly in his head again.

“You’ve been playing this game for a year Doll. A. Year.” Buggy gritted his teeth, “I’ve been fine playing along for a while. But I’m sick of pretending, just tell me what you want.” You felt your chest tighten at his words, Pretending? Did he really see this as a game? Your throat closed up a bit, not willing to let a noise out. “Money? Fame? What is it? I’ll just give it too you” His voice sounded angry and low, his grip on you already leaving bruises.

Tears threaten to fall as you find your voice, “We’ve been over this Buggy. I love you.” It was a weak confession but it’s the only thing you could muster without crying outright.

Those seemed to be the wrong words to say as Buggy stood up, bringing you with him. “Stop with these lies.” He hissed out as he tossed you out of the tub, you landed on the wooden floor with a loud thud.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. Sure, you and Buggy had fights about love and commitment in the past, but it had always ended in one storming off. You’ve never seen him like this before and it hurt. You looked up at the blue haired man peering down at you and were shocked to see pure hatred in his eyes. “I’ve been patient enough because the sex was good Doll,” he said your nickname condescendingly, and every word stung, “But enough’s enough.”

“W-what do you mean Buggy” You stuttered out, your heart sinking further and your head reeling, “I’ve never lied to you Bug, I’ve always-“

“I think it’s best if you left.” His words were final, didn’t leave room to breathe and you felt your whole world shatter. “I’ll give you enough to get to a different island” He finally took a step out of the tub, grabbing his robe without looking at you, “I don’t want to see you here after noon. I want you gone.” And he walked out of the bathroom leaving you there with your thoughts.

He was kicking you out of the crew, his crew. You had been here, you’ve been with the Buggy Pirates, for 4 years now. You joined them when you were just 24, after the village you were in tried to sell you off to the celestial dragons, this being 4th time the place you deemed home turning their backs on you. You were so happy when Buggy had smiled at you welcoming you aboard, making you feel like you had belonged and for the first time in your life you had felt relief letting some tears sneak out. You were there as he set up shop in the east blue and when the kid in the Straw-hat reminded him of his dream. You remember the feeling of relief you felt when your Captain had come out of impel down, and more importantly the paramount war alive and well, ready to resume his role as captain. You supported him and helped him get his mercenary delivery service up and running. You remember the first night just a year ago when Alvida shoved you into him when you had drank too much, in hopes that you would stop talking her ear off about how cute he was.

Tears stung your eyes at the thought of everything, He couldn’t have meant it, he out of everyone knows what it’s like to be alone. After a couple minutes of breathing and trying to get your emotions under control you wipe your eyes, and take a deep breath while standing up. You put on the clothes you prepared prior to the bath and slowly slink out of the bathroom, into the captain’s bedroom.

You looked around, half expecting, hoping, Buggy was there to explain he crossed the line, or that he was sorry, or even that he just wanted space and to go back to how things were before you had slept together. But he wasn’t. The room was empty. As your eyes scanned the room it fell on a bag on the bed and you throat tightened again. You slowly walk up to the sizeable bag opening it, inside was a smaller bag full of berries and everything else was your possessions from the room.

You choked back a sob. He really meant it; he wanted you to leave. You’d been abandoned once again. Somehow it hurt so much worse this time round. You’d given yourself fully to him and you knew he had trust issues, but you didn’t think he’d kick you out like this. Take shallow breathes you throw the coin pouch to the floor before zipping the bag back up, you couldn’t take it.

You take one last deep breath trying to collect yourself, even if you couldn’t get the tears to stop falling. You sling the bag over your shoulder and head out. You didn’t want to see anyone so you made sure to listen before going down hallways, narrowly missing some crewmates. You didn’t even bother grabbing your belongings from your actual room, all that was there was your journal and some memories of your past before Buggies Crew.

Soon enough you had made your way to the town on the island, and more importantly the port that Buggy didn’t watch over, you noticed a civilian ship boarding and quickly snuck your way on. You didn’t think you’d have to restart your life again, every time it got stimulatingly harder and easier. This time how over was the worse it every been, You never felt accepted before being on Buggy’s crew, never knew what it felt like to truly just relax, or laugh without checking over your shoulder.

You were able to convince the crew on board that you had lost your ticket and they escorted you to a private room, as soon as the door shut you slumped against the wall, wondering what the next chapter of your life would be. Running your fingers through your hair as you cry silently.

#One Piece #One Piece X Reader #One Piece Smut #Angst #Buggy #Buggy the Clown #Buggy X Reader

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xxresi-rotxx · 10 months

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i just need leon x f!reader angst where he goes off on reader🙏🏽🙏🏽

I’m always down for an angsty prompt! I feel like there are so few of them (or I’m garbage at finding them lmao) either way, enjoy😘😘

I was going to have Leon absolutely scream at the reader but wasn’t sure how harsh to go so I made this pretty mild😅I left it open incase you crave a harsher part 2🫢😏

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leon didn’t want you on this mission. He advocated against it. But did the President listen? Of course not.

“I’ll feel better knowing you aren’t alone out there Leon.”

Would the President really feel better if he had known he’d basically just given Leon another person to worry about?

Leon had worked with you in the past, chatted occasionally when he saw you. You were a great field agent and one hell of a shot; but Leon couldn’t deny the way his stomach would flip every time he saw you.

This mission was supposed to be in & out. Find Ashley, bring her home. So why the fuck does it seem like every ghost of his past is coming to haunt him? The ties Luis has to Umbrella, Ada’s interference, the death that haunted him everywhere he went; it was exhausting. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the way he kept jeopardizing Ashley to make sure you were okay that had him yelling at you right now, but regardless of what it was he couldn’t stop.

“Ashley, give us a moment.” Leon grit out before opening the door of the cabin and walking out, waiting for you to follow him.

You followed, utterly confused at what had crawled up his ass and had him so upset.

“Leon what-”

“Are you truly that stupid?” The harshness of his tone and the way he spat the words at you had you frozen. Out of all of the agents you worked with, Leon was always the nicest. The only one you didn’t look down on you for being a female agent.

“Well?” He continued, waiting for some comment on your behalf.

“I-I,” you couldn’t even figure out what to say “what are you talking about?”

“The President insisted you come along, no matter how many times I argued against it, and all you’ve fucking done is made this 100 times harder.”

His eye contact was unwavering and you hated how small it made you feel. It didn’t help that he towered over your figure physically either.

“What have I made harder? I’ve done nothing but help you and Ash-”

Leon’s laugh cut you off; it was laced with venom.

“Bullshit y/n. Ashley is our priority or did you forget?”

Was he referring to earlier? When you saved Luis?

“Are you seriously yelling at me for saving a life?”

You were starting to get angry, this wasn’t the Leon you had heard all about from everyone in the agency.

“He would have made it just fine, there was no reason for you to risk all of our lives for some dick.” He spat.

Your face flushed between a mix of anger and a mix of hurt. You were used to comments like this from the other douchebags who didn’t like you simply because you were a better agent, but not from Leon.

“You don’t honestly think-” he cut you off again.

“Why did you want to come on this fucking mission, huh?”

‘To work with you’ the thought died on your tongue before you actually answered.

“I’ve had to save you more than I’ve had to save Ashley, what did you want to just make my life this much harder? Prove yourself, is that it?”

He was just like everyone else, your heart ached at the thought. You had been so excited to work with Leon, to see his tactics up close, to help him.

“Fuck y/n are you even listening?!” He got closer to you now, suffocating the space around you. His eyes trained on yours.

“I’m not trying to prove anything.” You barely got the words out, realizing your voice was so low he probably didn’t even hear it.

Leon scoffed, turning away from you and running his hands through his hair.

“You could have been killed.” He spoke.

You almost didn’t hear him, his voice eerily quiet.

“What?” You questioned, so confused by his mood swings.

“YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED” he screamed back at you, before pulling a gun from his hip and shoving it into your stomach.

“Do me a fucking favor okay? Protect yourself before you try to protect others.”

Leon couldn’t figure out how to voice his concern for you. His emotions coming at him in waves he couldn’t control. He was furious you kept risking yourself for others, furious you were even in this hell hole. He was amazed every time you shot someone he didn’t even notice, truly awed that you kept such a positive mentality, but his strongest emotion right now was fear. Fear you wouldn’t make it out, fear he would be forced to save Ashley over you.

None of this made it’s way across to you. Instead you felt like a burden, like another agent just in the way. The man you looked up to was no better than everyone else, and you suddenly found yourself tongue tied. Your eyes beginning to water.

You took the gun he shoved at you, and slid it into the waistband of your pants. You refused to meet his eye contact now.

Your lack of eye contact didn’t go unnoticed, but Leon was too frustrated to care. He pushed past you back into the cabin, not bothering to hold the door for you.

There was no doubt in your mind Ashley heard everything. She probably thought you were a burden now as well. Could this mission get any worse?

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #asks are open #leon kennedy x y/n #re4 remake #leon angst #angst #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy ask #leon kennedy angst #re4 remake leon #re4 leon #resident evil ask #resident evil angst #resident evil leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n

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holllandtrash · 10 months

Text

death of me | carlos sainz

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x reader

in short, the three times you didn't tell carlos you loved him and the one time it was almost too late.

i actually had 2 requests with these prompts so this is those requests 1: “You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want” 11: “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did.” 94: “Look me in the eyes and tell me that.”

Word count: 9.8k

warnings/tags: 18+ angst, fluff, plot with some smut, very light dom/sub blink and you miss it, this is a goddamn rollercoaster im sorry

17 August 2023

You got the call and honestly, you thought it was a joke. Some horrible, practical joke that someone in your life had set up because they knew it would get to you.

Which is why you laughed when you heard the person on the other line say, “There’s been an accident.”

“Yeah, okay,” you snorted, rolling your eyes as you dried the bowl in your hand, finally getting to the stack of dishes you had been neglecting since this morning. “Who put you up to this?”

“No, this isn’t a joke, Miss,” the woman on the line said. “I’m calling from the Jiminez Diaz Hospital. There’s been an accident. Carlos Sainz Jr. was involved in a car accident. He’s-

You didn't hear the rest of whatever the nurse had to say. The ringing in your eyes drowned her out, along with the bowl slipping from your grasp and crashing onto the floor, pieces of blue ceramic shattered around your feet.

Frozen, you tried to listen to the calming voice on the other end of the line, the voice telling you that he was undergoing surgery. She couldn’t provide any more additional information, but she encouraged you, as his emergency contact, to come to the hospital as soon as you possibly could.

As you hurried to find your keys, your relationship with Carlos flashed before your eyes. Every moment, every laugh, every kiss, every fight, every word said and unsaid.

And god there were way too many words you hadn’t got the chance to say.

31 December 2022

Carlos grabbed hold of your waist and you giggled before slipping out of his hold, reaching for the bottle of champagne on top of the fridge. He tried to take it from you, knowing that you probably weren’t going to be able to successfully open it but you just aimed the cork in his direction and he backed off.

“That’s the third bottle,” Carlos told you, he wasn’t scolding, just casually pointing out that you were going to have a massive headache tomorrow morning.

“And it’s about to be the twenty-third year,” you said. Which was technically incorrect, but Carlos admired your excitement too much to correct you. You pointed the bottle in the direction of the hallway and he braced himself for the cork to go flying.

When you managed to pop it off without his help, the bubbly liquid came pouring out the side and you laughed as you held it up above Carlos’ face, instructing him to open his mouth. He listened, but your aim was horrible and the champagne spilled down the side of his chin.

“Here,” Carlos said, taking the bottle from you. You looked up at him and smiled, needing to take a second to focus on him and not on how the walls behind him were spinning. Carlos’ touch was soft as he brushed his thumb over your lower lip, opening your mouth enough for him to pour some of the champagne down your throat as well.

You were drunk, but you were still standing so you considered that a win. You just needed to last twelve more minutes till midnight and then you could collapse on the couch with him if you wanted.

The two of you were supposed to go out to a house party that his friend was throwing. But then you walked out of the bedroom wearing a silk red dress that stopped at your thighs and your hair in perfect waves that looked ideal for Carlos to tangle his fingers through and he quickly decided that he didn’t want to share you going into the New Year. The only person he wanted to celebrate with was you.

So he grabbed one of the champagne bottles and picked you up, hoisting you over his shoulder as you squealed. He carried you back into the room you just walked out of and as much as he admired the dress on you, it looked so much better stained with champagne and crumpled on the floor.

You had only been together a few weeks, you were still in the honeymoon stage, which is part of the reason why you were more than happy to just stay at home with him tonight. You couldn’t get enough of him, and Carlos felt the same.

Carlos worshipped you. He had ever since the night you first met, which just so happened to be the first time you slept together.

He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a hookup after catching his eye at the club. You were supposed to go home the next morning, but how could you go home when he woke you up by leaving a trail of kisses down your naval and then across your thighs before he dove into your centre. He worked his tongue through your folds, not slowing until you were seeing stars.

When you did finally cum, legs convulsing around him, Carlos licked up every drop of your juices and then his lips found their way back to yours. He told you he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue and that was when you knew you were absolutely fucked.

Carlos knew your body, he knew how to pleasure you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. It was the sexual drive and the lust between you that drove you to him in the first place, but you stayed for so much more.

You stayed because he memorised your coffee order after the first morning you spent together. You stayed because he listened to you talk about your family for, you timed it, three and a half hours because he wanted to hear all about the ties and the drama and the people that raised you. You stayed because Carlos treated every date like the first one, always looking for ways to impress you, to make you blush or smile.

So there were, four weeks later and ignoring his friends and the promise you made to celebrate New Years Eve with them, because let’s face it, Carlos much preferred having you on your knees in front of him than having to make small talk until the clock struck midnight.

His fingers twisted through your hair as he released into your mouth and pulled out of you, but before you could swallow he kept your mouth open with a tight grip on your chin. Carlos grabbed the champagne bottle next to him and poured the bubbly liquid down your throat. The subtle twitch of his eyebrow was the instruction you were waiting for and you swallowed, tasting the sweet and salty mixture of champagne and him.

You spent your evening tangled up in the sheets, you on top of him, him on top of you. When you left for a moment to go grab a second bottle of champagne, Carlos followed and hoisted you up on the counter, picking up right where you left off.

Now you were drunk. It was the champagne, yes, but it was also Carlos. He was intoxicating, he made you feel bubbly more than the drink itself did. He’s the one you couldn’t get enough of. With his shaggy, dark hair and even darker gaze, you pulled his face to yours and wiped the excess liquid from his chin. You sucked on the pad of your thumb, your lips pulling back into a devious smirk as Carlos groaned, dropping his face to the crook of your neck.

“Tú serás la muerte de mí,” You’ll be the death of me.

“Good,” you whispered, inhaling a sharp breath when he attached his lips to your throat, nibbling and sucking on your already marked up skin. You could still feel the ghost of his fingertips from when he choked you earlier, something you both loved, but his mouth was also enough to leave you gasping for air.

He knew you, he knew your body. He anticipated your reaction every time he touched you. And while you both thought you were taking a break to be able to catch the countdown, even having put on one of his shirts to keep his eyes from wandering, you were almost ready to drag him back to the bedroom because Carlos Sainz Jr. was also going to be the death of you.

But it was New Years Eve.

“Carlos,” you whimpered, pulling your fingers through his hair and giving him a sharp tug so he would lift his head. You hovered your lips over his, “We’ll miss the countdown.”

“I don’t care,” he chuckled, he nudged his nose against yours before connecting your lips. You both still tasted like champagne and god you couldn’t get enough of it. Carlos smiled against your lips and pulled back when he felt you pout. “What, hermosa?”

“I like the countdown,” you admitted, the volume you spoke at dropping about ten levels as you stared up at him through your lashes. “It’s like we get to start a new chapter in our lives at midnight.”

His smile didn’t fade because he loved the way you looked at the world with such a pure lens. He cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your flushed skin. You expected him to kiss you again but he just pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“The only chapters I care about are the ones with you in it.”

You were drunk, but god did that line sober you up.

You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol flowing through your system or if it was because your heart was beating too fast for your own good, but your lips parted with the intent of saying those three little words.

Because you knew then, at that moment, you loved him.

But Carlos kissed you and swallowed the words that were dancing on the tip of your tongue. You thought that maybe that was for the better. It had only been four weeks. A month. It was too soon to tell him you loved him, you’d scare him off. You didn’t need to start a new year with a traumatised boyfriend.

So you kept it to yourself and told yourself that there would come a better time to tell him how you felt because even though you were certain you loved the man standing before you, now was not the time to say it.

But when was the time?

16 Feb 2023

You opened up the top drawer of the dresser that sat across from Carlos’ bed, but he grabbed hold of your wrist before you could pull your clothes out from it.

“Don’t,” he said, demanded basically. “Don’t pack up your things.”

Ripping your arm from his grasp, you ignored his plea and grabbed the pile of clothes that had accumulated here over the last couple months. It started as a joke, leaving your clothes here, at his place, telling him that you needed an excuse to come over.

And then one t-shirt turned into half of your closet being crammed in with his. Carlos didn’t complain once.

But you couldn’t live in this fantasy world you had created for yourselves any longer. Carlos was about to travel to Bahrain for the start of the season and then he’d head to Italy in between races and then Jeddah and then Australia and you’d be here. In Madrid.

“I’m not staying in your house while you’re travelling around the world racing,” you scoffed, hoping he could see how preposterous the idea was. He opened his mouth, giving you that same look he gave you every time he was about to bring up the idea of you travelling with him. You pointed a finger in his face, “And I’m not going with you.”

You couldn’t. You had a life here, a job here. You had no idea how other girlfriends and partners of these drivers were able to get up and leave their homes for a half of a week to support them, but you couldn’t do that.

Carlo yanked the clothes out of your hands and shoved them back into the drawer. You scowled at him, not like you were very intimidating but you tried to be.

“Carlos,” you huffed out his name. “Let me pack, let me move out. This has been fun but-”

“But nothing,” Carlos cut you off and reached for your arm once more, pulling you towards him. You had been avoiding his eyes for the last hour and he knew something was up, something that went further than just taking your clothes home. “Talk to me, hermosa.”

Carlos didn’t just know your body, he knew you. Your mannerisms, your anxious fidgeting, your facial expressions. He knew your thoughts travelling through your head before you did, the two of you were so in sync it was terrifying.

So he physically felt the heavy exhale you finally let out, forcing all of the weight you had been carrying on your shoulders into the space between you.

“Why does this feel like a break up?” He asked, trailing his hand up your arm. His touch was soft and comforting and you wished it was enough to make everything better. It should have been enough.

And your next few words didn’t just hurt you, they sliced right through Carlos.

“Because I think it is a break up.”

Carlos let go of you to rub his hands over his face before tugging them through his hair. He backed up, putting a little bit more space between your bodies because as much as he wanted to hold you and tell you that you were making a mistake, he heard the certainty in your voice. The ‘I think’ was only added for his benefit. Your mind was made up. He knew it.

And you had seemingly known it for a while, too. You knew this moment was coming.

He walked out of the room when you turned your face, no longer trying to stop you from packing up your bags. He shut the door after him, refraining from slamming it because that’s not who Carlos was. He didn’t do things out of haste and anger, he wasn’t a reactive person.

No, Carlos sat in his thoughts and his feelings and he let them simmer. He thought about the last few months and wondered if it meant anything at all to you, because he thought it did.

And now you were throwing it all away and because what? Because you didn’t want a partner who travelled for a living? You weren’t even trying to put the effort in, you were giving up before it got difficult. And who’s to say it would get difficult? Carlos’ home was still in Madrid, he would always come back to you and now you weren’t giving him the option to.

He could hear you packing from down the hall, a few drawers shutting, his closet opening and closing. This was wrong. And if it felt wrong to him he knew it must have felt wrong for you too, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

When you walked out a while later, a duffle bag over your shoulder, a small suitcase behind you, you still avoided his eyes as much as you could because you didn’t want him to know you had been crying. You didn’t want him to know that this break up was destroying you, but was ultimately the right thing to do.

Carlos stood up and approached you, still keeping his emotions in check even though it broke him to see you so hurt, so hurt over your own choices.

This could be avoided, he thought. This didn’t need to end.

You dropped the bag to the ground and inhaled a deep breath. You glanced at Carlos, but only momentarily as he stood in front of you. It was a lot easier to look at the buttons of his shirt or the rings on his hand or literally anything else because meeting his gaze was too hard.

But this is why you had to leave.

You hated goodbyes and if you had to say goodbye to him every week, if you were going to be in different countries for most of the year, if you weren’t even going to be with him, then what was the point of this relationship?

You wanted to grow with your partner and you couldn’t do that if they were a Formula 1 driver. You couldn’t grow with Carlos.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered with a shake of your head. He could hear the way you choked to get those words out, fighting back even more tears.

Carlos, knowing he didn’t have much a chance to convince you into staying, still lifted his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and choosing to look past the way you winced as you leaned into his touch, as if already thinking about how this would be the last time you’d feel this sense of comfort.

“Don’t do this,” Carlos said, voice timid and lanced with desperation. “Please.”

“Carlos, please don’t make this harder than it has to be-”

“I love you.”

You froze.

Even as Carlos rested his other palm against the side of your face and forced your attention on him, dipping his head as he repeated those words, you remained frozen.

“I love you,” he spoke with so much confidence it scared you. “I love you and I don’t want this to be over. It can’t be over.”

It wasn’t that you couldn’t say those words back because you didn't reciprocate them, you couldn’t say it back because it would only make things harder. Up until now, neither of you had said you loved the other. And up until now, you were perfectly happy pushing what you felt for him down because the timing never felt right and now you knew why.

Deep down you always knew that you’d find yourself needing to walk away.

He’d have an easier time letting you go if you told him you didn’t love him and while it would have been a lie, it was what he needed to hear.

You stepped back and grabbed the duffle bag off the floor, his arms fell back to his sides.

“I’m sorry, Carlos, I don’t-” you turned to the door, letting your hair fall in front of your face, “I don’t love you.”

“I don’t believe that.”

He wasn’t arrogant, but he was persistent.

“Well it’s true,” you pulled the strap of the bag over your shoulder and reached for the handle of the door. If you just avoided his big brown eyes and the stare that had you hooked before either of you ever said a word, you could leave. You pulled open the door, only for him to press his palm against it and slam it shut again.

You felt his chest against your back as he stepped forward. Each breath he took was in sync with yours, because you two were always in sync, even at the worst of times.

“I don’t love you,” you repeated, raising your voice.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that, then.”

You couldn’t.

You couldn’t because the moment you turned around you would fall back into his arms. You’d let yourself get swept away by his promises and his affection and then he’d leave for a race and then another and another. You loved this bubble you created during the office season and you fell so hard so fast for Carlos, but it wasn’t meant to last.

“I’m leaving,” was all you could get, gripping the handle again and yanking the door open with such force that Carlos had no choice but to take a step back. He tried to reach for you, his fingers ghosted over yours, but there was nothing he could do to stop you.

You were gone.

June 4 2023

You kept up with the races throughout the beginning of the season. You still followed his account and all of the motorsport ones he was associated with. You didn’t dare like or comment on any of them, but you weren’t ready to let him go.

Telling Carlos you didn’t love him was the hardest thing you’d ever done.

And you didn’t let yourself look at him as you said it either, you didn’t take on any of the pain that he felt. You said the words, you broke his heart and then you left.

Carlos didn’t try to reach out once, not like you expected him to. Even when he was home between races, which wasn’t often, you’d only hear about it from social media.

But this was what you wanted, right? You wanted this life, you wanted to stay home. You didn’t want to keep chasing after a Formula 1 driver and be forced to follow him from country to country if you wanted to spend time with him. That wasn't healthy nor was it something you wanted to put yourself through.

Getting over him, however, was impossible.

And you tried, really. You went out with your friends, you distracted yourself, you picked up hobby after hobby but good god your thoughts always travelled back to him.

You fought with yourself. You kept asking yourself if you made a mistake by ending things. You kept wondering why you didn’t at least try. But then you’d see a photo of him getting into yet another plane and you knew you made the right choice.

Your lifestyles were extremely different. Your personalities were compatible, yes, but the way you went about your day to day lives would never line up. At least not while he was racing.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself, though. You liked watching him race.

When you watched from home, your eyes were always on the number 55 Ferrari. You rooted for him, you winced at every near miss, you celebrated his finishes and without fail, you always looked at your phone and thought about congratulating him via text or even a call, only to instantly decide against it.

You weren’t even that big of a Formula 1 fan before you met him, but now this seemed to be as close to him as you’d ever get again.

It didn’t help that he looked good.

Carlos pulled off those red racing overalls. And when they hung low around his hips and the fireproofs clung to his skin, god you wanted to scream at yourself for letting him go. You could have been there, at the races, if you just put a little more effort in. You could have been the one to rip the fireproofs off his body after he got out of the car, because let's face it, after some of the runs he’s had this season, you knew he was probably needing an outlet to release some of that pent up energy and frustration.

You missed running your fingers through his hair. You missed the feeling of his lips tracing every inch of your skin. You missed waking up next to him and seeing your legs tangled together with the sheets. You missed that he was always looking for a reason to touch you, whether it be your wrist or your pinky finger or your back, his hand was always on you.

You missed Carlos.

You loved Carlos.

Which was why your judgement was a little clouded when your friend invited you to Barcelona the weekend of the grand prix, not to watch the race because god knew neither of you could afford tickets, but to visit the clubs she hoped the drivers would be at.

She knew people who knew people and you didn’t ask questions, you just gripped her hand tightly as she led you towards the VIP section of the third club that night. The first one was a bust. The second one you spotted a few people associated with Formula 1, but the third nightclub was the jackpot.

It didn’t take long to spot Charles, celebrating getting a podium after a difficult qualifying session on Saturday. You never actually met Charles but you had heard lots about him, and from the look he gave you across the lounge, you had a feeling he had heard a lot about you too.

With a drink in his hand, he made his way towards you, nodding to himself when he realised that, yes, the girl in front of him was in fact his teammate's ex.

“Does Carlos know you’re here?” Charles asked, dipping his face towards your ear to be heard over the obnoxious music. You shook your head, eyes darting all around him but the Spanish driver was nowhere in sight.

“Is he-” god why were you even asking? You didn’t have a right to. You broke up with him. “Is he here?”

Charles nodded again, standing up straight to look around the crowded room full of bodies dancing and mingling. A chuckle passed his lips as his eyes widened momentarily, “Looks like he’s a little busy though.”

You turned on your heels. It took a second for you to understand what Charles was talking about.

But then you saw it.

A girl, who very much resembled you, height wise and hair wise, had her arms wrapped around Carlos’ neck as she held their bodies together, letting the music flow through them as they danced together.

You hated the way he was staring at her, like he was thinking about all of the ways he was going to devour her.

And unlike Carlos, you did not let your feelings sit. You reacted to everything. Out of anger, spite, jealousy, you never took a second to think about your actions or the potential consequences before doing anything.

So before you even processed how horrible of an idea this was, you walked across the club, the music fading into the background as you only heard a high pitched ringing in your ears. Carlos paid no attention to you, he had no idea you were even there until you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand off the waist of your lookalike.

She scoffed at you and shot a quick glance towards Carlos, “Cuál es su problema?” What’s your problem?

“You,” You shot back, not giving her any chance of a rebuttal before you pulled Carlos away from her and the dance floor. He called your name, trying to get your attention as you navigated your way to the bathrooms. He was much stronger than you, so he could have pulled your hand off of him if he really wanted to, but he let you drag him into the single user washroom without much of a fight.

It wasn’t until you locked the door behind him and stood only inches apart did it sink in what you just did.

Your heart was racing as you stared up at Carlos. You took in his stern features, the way his eyebrows pinched together as he waited for an explanation, the way he crossed his arms over his chest.

This was very reminiscent of the night you met, only when you met in the club you pulled him into the backseat of a car and he couldn’t take his hands off of you. Now, he was purposely keeping the distance and he seemingly wanted nothing to do with you.

He must have known you didn’t have any words because he cleared his throat and eyed you once over, “What the fuck was that?”

What the hell could you say? That was me pulling you off some stupid look alike because even though I broke up with you, I don’t want to see you with anyone else?

That would be the truth. The reasonable thing to respond with because after pulling him away from his date, you probably at least owed him some honesty.

But again, you were someone who reacted.

“What?” You scoffed, arm flailing to the side. “You think you can come back to Spain for the first time in months and not say a single fucking thing to me? Weren’t you the one who said your home was in Madrid? People talk, Carlos, you haven’t been home since the day-”

“Since the day you left,” he interrupted, knowing damn well you were trying to say he hadn’t been back home since he left for the season even though you both knew there was a deeper reasoning as to why.

Carlos shook his head. His usually loving stare was cold and intimidating, he wasn’t going to let you put the blame on him for anything that had occurred.

“I haven’t been back to Madrid since that day you walked out on me,” Carlos repeated himself, putting heavy emphasis on the reminder that you were the one that left him. “I hope you understand, but I haven’t really been in any sort of rush to go back.”

Why would he want to go back home knowing you wouldn’t be there when he returned? Why would he go back to the one place he knew you’d be, but would still inevitably be just out of his reach? So close yet so fucking far.

He wasn’t going to put himself through that, through knowing you’d be in the same city but not being able to touch you. It was easier to find other places to stay between races.

And you did understand that. It may not have sunk in right away, but it made sense now. You couldn’t see it through the tv screen, you couldn’t get a read on him when you were watching him race from miles and miles away. But you saw it now.

Carlos hadn’t moved on either.

He took a breath as he leaned back against the door. You didn’t like the defensive stance he was relying on. With his arms over his chest all you wanted was to step forward and take his hands in yours. You hated the space between your bodies.

But you were broken up. You both had to accept that, as hard as it was, and that was your doing.

Except you still didn’t want to see him with someone else.

“So who was she?” You asked, drifting the topic of conversation back to the girl from the dance floor.

“You don’t really have a right to ask.”

“It’s not a crime to be curious.”

Carlos clenched his jaw as he averted his gaze for a second. He rubbed his palm over his chin and shrugged, giving in to your question because he always did struggle to say no to you, “I don’t know, honestly. I met her ten minutes ago at the bar.”

“Sounds familiar,” you muttered under your breath, thinking back to when you first met.

“We met on the dance floor,” Carlos pointed out.

“I was on the dance floor. You were at the bar.”

“We were both on the dance floor,” he repeated, sounding more sure of himself the second time.

His eyes dropped, taking in your outfit of choice for the first time since you’ve been in the enclosed space and when the corner of his lips curved upwards, just for a second, you felt your heart skip a beat just like it did the first night you met.

“You were wearing that same skirt too,” he said and you automatically looked down at the black leather skirt you currently had on.

“Was not,” you scoffed, but to be fair, you had absolutely no idea what you had on that night.

Carlos chuckled, ignoring your childish rebuttal. “That skirt and a white top and I know it was white because I remember watching you spill your drink all over the front of it and you said-”

“I need an excuse to take it off anyway,” you finished for him, flashes of that night appeared in your mind. For so long, you only remembered how Carlos made you feel when you first met that none of the other details mattered.

But he remembered everything.

“You ordered gin and tonics all night,” Carlos continued, studying your face as your features softened with each additional memory. “Your friends tried to pull you away from me when we were on the dance floor and you didn’t let them. When I introduced myself, you had no idea who I was and when we finally stepped outside to leave the club, you looked at me with those big eyes of yours and you-”

He stopped midway and inhaled a faint breath, you both did actually. His was due to reliving the night you first met and yours was due to the fact that Carlos stepped forward finally, raising his fingers to your chin to tilt your face upwards.

You leaned into his touch, stepping forward yourself to trace your hand over the shirt he wore as he finished his final thought.

“You looked up at me and you told me I looked like someone you could fall in love with.”

Alarms went off. You wanted to run again. You didn’t want to have this conversation again. Once was enough.

“I don’t- I don’t remember that,” you stammered out.

“Because you were drinking gin and tonics all night,” Carlos said again, this time with a hint of a smile. “I also don’t even think you meant to say it, you changed the topic immediately afterwards.”

“You could just be making this shit up,” you pointed out, not wanting to accept the fact that you knew Carlos would be someone you would love since that first night.

“I could be,” he nodded in agreement, fingers still holding onto your jaw. He stared at you the way he used to. With such adoration and desire. What used to be lust melted into something so much stronger and it hadn’t faded even if months passed. “But unlike you, I don’t lie.”

Your eyebrows pinched together, “When have I ever lied to you?”

“The day you left,” there was another hit to the chest as you anticipated the rest of his sentence. “When you told me you didn’t love me.”

“That wasn’t a lie,” your words tasted like acid on your tongue.

His hand fell from your face and he laughed. The sort of laugh that had your stomach turning in knots because there was nothing humorous about this situation you had now found yourselves in for the second time in four months.

“I know you,” Carlos said. “And I know there’s no possible way that I am the only one that feels so strongly it hurts. I know you love me because I feel it. I always have. In the way you touch me, in the way you run your hands through my hair, in the way you used to wake me up in the morning by kissing me until I finally opened my eyes. I know you love me because I see it in everything you do. In the way you look at me, the way your eyes always found mine if we were in a crowded room and I could see the breath of relief you’d take because as long as we saw each other, the world was calm. I saw it when you started leaving your clothes at my place, when you started going grocery shopping for us instead of just you and I saw how it broke you to walk out on me that day. It wouldn’t have hurt if you didn’t love me.”

With your hand still gripping onto his shirt, your lower lip trembled as you tried to find something to say in response. Every single word that came out of his mouth was true. He knew you better than you knew yourself and he probably knew long before you did that you loved him.

You dropped your gaze, focusing on the wrinkles on his shirt and the white button you played with under your thumb, “You know that phrase, if you love something, set it free?”

“And if it comes back, it's yours,” Carlos added on, stepping closer as he raised his hand to the side of your face, his fingers twisting through your hair. “I’m here, hermosa. I’m yours, I’ve always been yours.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. You forced yourself to, thinking that the humorous breath of air protruding from your lips might make the rest of this conversation easier.

It didn’t.

“Carlos I can’t keep setting you free every time there’s a race,” you said, your voice timid. “I can’t. If I’m going to love you I’m going to do it with every bone in my body, with every fibre of my being and I can’t do that if you’re gone for eight months of the year. I need you in my life, with me, by my side, not on a tv screen, not all around the world.”

What you were asking for was selfish, you knew this. You knew that, essentially, you were putting Carlos in a position where he had to choose. He had to choose between you and racing and that wasn’t a fair spot for him to be in. You knew this.

Which is why you chose for him.

Four months ago you chose for him, and you were doing it again now.

You briefly glanced up to meet his eyes, trying to move past the way you were melting at the feeling of his hands in your hair.

“I shouldn’t have come to Barcelona, I’m sorry,” you breathed out, hands falling to your side. Without so much as a second look, you stepped past the driver and reached for the door handle.

Carlos didn’t let you walk out on him this time.

He grabbed your wrist and spun you back around so fast that you didn’t have a second to breathe before his lips were on yours. Furiously and passionately like he was making up for all of these months without you. His tongue dove into your mouth as you slid your hand around the back of his neck, holding his face to yours because even though you knew this was a terrible idea, that you were broken up, there was no better feeling in the world than kissing Carlos Sainz Jr.

Neither of you were sure who started undressing first. It didn’t matter. Buttons went flying, your skirt got hiked up around your waist and when Carlos hoisted you up to place you on top of the sink, you had a momentary lapse of judgement and asked yourself why you broke up with him in the first place.

“I miss you,” Carlos muttered against your lips as you inhaled a sharp breath when he pushed your panties aside, the pads of his fingers traced over your folds. “I missed this.”

“Carlos-”

“Missed how wet you got for me,” Carlos ignored whatever plea was about to fall from your lips as he pressed his mouth to the crook of your neck.

You were putty in his hands, quite literally. There was nothing but quiet whimpers and strangled moans from you as he slid two fingers past your folds, both of you forgetting that your conversation ended with you trying to walk out on him.

His thumb traced over your clit, applying the slightest bit of pressure, just enough to have you arching your back as you sat perched on the edge of the counter. You felt him smirk against your skin right when he picked up the pace of his digits, curling them against your walls, so deep inside you.

You dragged your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep his lips on that spot just below your ear as your head fell backward. Carlos kept you upright, he supported you, he knew how helpless you were during times like these and he lived for it.

Four months ago you would have never thought that walking out on Carlos Sainz Jr. would lead you to being finger fucked by him in the bathroom of a Barcelona club.

He lifted his head, replacing his lips on your throat with his free hand and forcing you to look at him. You recognised the lustful stare, only growing darker as he alternated between lightly tracing your most sensitive nub and pinching it between his forefinger and thumb until your legs quivered beneath you.

Carlos attached his mouth to yours, biting down and tugging on your lower lip, the sharp pain only added to the pleasure coursing through your body. He thrusted his fingers into you with such force it had you yanking on his dark hair so hard Carlos hissed through his teeth.

“Cum for me,” Carlos’ groan was masked with a demand. One you had no possibility of ignoring as your body reacted to him and his words. With his fingers so deep inside you, Carlos worked you through your release, slowing but not stopping as you dropped your head to his shoulder, holding him as close to you as you possibly could.

When he finally pulled his fingers out of you, you weren’t surprised when he brought them up to his lips. There was a perfectly fine sink right in front of him but Carlos would never waste an opportunity to taste you.

He then cupped your chin, his gaze softened but you could still make out the mischievous glint. This night wasn’t over.

“Let’s get out of here.”

That’s all it took. Those five little words. The one request and you had forgotten every logical decision that had led you up to this moment. He helped you off the counter, kissing you once more before you had to leave the privacy of the bathroom and before long you found yourself walking the same route as the first night you met.

Past the dance floor, sending your friend an assuring smile, silently telling her everything was fine. Carlos led the way at first, you kept a safe distance behind him and when you walked outside there was already a car waiting out front. You climbed into the backseat alongside him, ignoring the flashes from paparazzi and the call from them asking if Carlos was back together with his ex.

You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. From the ride to the elevator to the hallway until finally he dragged you into his hotel room, or maybe you dragged him once the door opened, you were both desperate for the other at this point.

It was hard to think rationally. In the back of your head you knew you’d have to leave in the morning before you found yourself clinging to him the way you used to, but you just wanted to enjoy the time you had now. You wanted to hold onto every beautiful sound that came from the back of his throat, each kiss he pressed to your skin, the sound of your name escaping his lips because no one would ever say your name that way he did.

You loved him.

You loved the way he knew your body better than you did. How he had you desperate for a release in a matter of minutes, and only giving in when you begged for it. You loved the way he stretched you out, needing a second to inhale a quick breath as he slid his cock into you with little warning, deciding you were wet enough already after making you cum once in the bathroom and again on the edge of his bed with just his tongue.

You were used to his size, you had spent enough time in bed with him to know what to expect tonight but after four months your mouth still fell open and he swallowed all of your moans by pressing his lips to yours and taking all of your air out of your lungs.

Carlos wasn’t patient. Why would he be? After months without you he didn’t feel the need to wait. He found a steady pace but within minutes he had picked up his speed and hiked one of your legs up around his waist.

That position turned into another which turned into a third and at one point during the night Carlos had you sit on top of him, staring at your own reflection in the mirror as you bounced on his cock, listening to his encouraging words and his praise while his fingers made for a beautiful necklace on your throat.

He cherished you, treating you like royalty on his sheets as you both carried the same thought, both of you knowing that you wouldn’t stay past the morning. As much as you wanted to forget that you broke up with him and as much as he wanted to pretend that you were still his, there was no denying your relationship was over.

You loved each other, but that wasn’t enough to make up for the distance and the lost time during races and the anxiety of not being able to come home to each other at the end of the day. You loved each other, truly, but it was never enough.

Which was why when morning came, you climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb him after getting very minimal hours of sleep. You slid on the clothes you had discarded all over his room and decided that leaving without a second look would be easiest.

You had just cracked the door open when Carlos stirred in the blankets behind you. You had no choice but to turn around, to look at what you were walking away from for the second time.

He sat up in bed, the sheets draped over his lower half and his hair unruly and sexy and almost enough to make you crawl right back in next to him.

He saw that you had redressed yourself, made yourself as presentable as you could wearing the clothes from last night. He didn’t have to ask where you were going, he just nodded to himself and let out a breath of acceptance.

You were never going to stay.

“I’m sorry,” you said, but those two little words were not the words he was hoping to hear during his short time with you.

“No you’re not,” Carlos shook his head. He looked away from you for a second, his tongue poking out to moisten his lips. He was asking himself if last night was a mistake. It probably was.

“I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

“You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want.”

“I’m leaving because it’s what’s best for both of us, Carlos.” You sighed, leaning against the frame of the bedroom door. “I can’t live the life you want me to live and I’m not going to ask you to give anything up for me. We’re at a crossroad here.”

Carlos dragged his line of sight back towards you, “Even though I love you? That doesn’t make any difference?”

It makes things harder.

You shook your head, repeating that you were sorry one more time and letting the last image of Carlos be of him dropping his head back down to the pillow before you turned around and walked out of his life once again.

August 17 2023

You practically ran to the receptionist, slamming your hands against the desk, “Carlos Sainz Jr., is he- is he here? What room is he in? Is he okay? God please tell me he’s okay-”

“Ma’am, I need you to take a breath,” the nurse was calm, she had been through this hundreds of times. Dealing with the frantic loved ones of a patient. She stood up, hand outstretched to rest over yours as she pushed the box of tissues closer to you. You grabbed one and dabbed the corner of your eyes, having been imagining the worst the entire drive over and unable to stop crying.

You didn’t even have time to question why you were still his emergency contact. You had no idea how your name and number came up in the conversation and it pained you to think that when the paramedics brought him to the hospital, the only phone number he could think to mutter was yours.

“Is he okay?” You repeated after a deep inhale. “I need to know he’s okay. The lady on the phone earlier wouldn’t tell me anything, she just said there was an accident.”

“Carlos Sainz?” The nurse asked, looking at her screen as she sat back on down. She typed on the keyboard, muttering a few things to herself until his file popped up. “He’s undergoing surgery right now, should be done soon though.”

“Surgery for what?” You asked, desperate to get information. “Is he going to be okay? He’s a racecar driver, can he still drive? Is it life threatening-”

The nurse seemed to crack a smile, “I’m familiar with his occupation, Miss. Unfortunately I am not able to give you any more information on his condition.”

You couldn’t tell if the whole confidentiality act was because of his fame or because she really had no idea how he was doing. Regardless, the not knowing stressed you out beyond relief and you tried for a few more minutes, pestering for answers, until finally she told you that the only option for you was to sit and wait.

So you did. Foot tapping against the tiled floor. You thought about calling his parents or his sister but last you saw from social media, his sister was somewhere in Greece and you had absolutely no way of contacting his parents as you weren’t with Carlos long enough to get their contact information.

It was just you in the hospital waiting room, nervously watching the minute hand on the clock go around way too damn slow. Every time a doctor or another nurse entered the room, your heart dropped in anticipation, but none of them were there to keep you informed.

Twenty minutes went by with no news, and in hindsight, that really wasn’t that long of a waiting period. But it felt like an eternity, not knowing. Left drawing your own conclusions, your own terrible scenarios.

When a doctor did finally emerge from the swinging doors, he stared down at his clipboard before approaching the nurse behind the reception desk. You watched them interact, of course you did, you needed to know if he was Carlos’ doctor.

When he walked over to you, a tight smile on his lips, you stood up instantly.

“You must be here for Carlos,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake with not nearly enough strength you wished you had. “I’m Dr. Alejo.”

“Hi,” You tried to glance at the clipboard tucked under his arm but you wouldn’t understand anything anyway. “Is he-”

Dr. Alejo nodded and you felt as though you could breathe when his smile grew even just the slightest bit.

“He’s fine,” He assured you. “A few broken ribs that will heal on their own, a fracture of his left wrist that required surgery and some severe bruising along his abdomen, but no internal bleeding to be concerned about. He’s okay.” Dr. Alejo scratched his jaw, “Might not be able to finish the season, but I think he’s just happy to be able to walk away from this accident.”

He nodded his head towards the doors that separated the patients from the waiting room, leading you through them and down the hall as he flipped through the papers on the clipboard.

“It was a car accident?” You asked. “How? What even happened?” It was hard to believe that a professional racing driver would get into something so mundane as a car accident. During the break of the Formula 1 season.

“I believe the other driver was distracted,” Dr. Alejo answered. “I don’t have much more information than that as he wasn’t my patient, but he’s also okay. I think still in surgery, but both drivers are extremely fortunate in this scenario.”

He stopped in front of a room where the door was slightly ajar. Carlos’ name was written on the board outside of it and you asked for permission before going inside. The doctor nodded and allowed you in by yourself, instructing you to be gentle as he had just come from surgery.

You walked in, not prepared for the sight of Carlos on the bed with IV tubes sticking out of his wrist. His entire rib cage and abdomen was bandaged up and you could see hints of bruising on his legs and arms, aside from where the cast on his left wrist was covering them. There were minor marks on his face as well, cuts from the broken windshield, more bruising, everything that made you ache for him.

His eyes were closed so he didn’t see you slowly make your way to his bedside, sitting on the side that seemed to have less injury. You scanned over him, taking in the damages to his body and you didn’t think twice before raising your hand to brush a few strands of hair off his forehead.

You hadn’t seen him in a few months, not since you left his hotel room.

Part of you expected that you’d run into each again, you’d always been drawn to Carlos, but you never would have imagined this.

You didn’t even know he was home.

Hesitantly, you took his hand in yours, thumb tracing over the few inches of skin that weren’t littered with dark bruises. You felt his fingers twitch in your grasp and you glanced up in time to see his eyelids flutter open.

“Hi,” you whispered, expecting to have to explain yourself. Carlos most definitely did not expect to get into any sort of accident today, let alone see his ex-girlfriend who walked out on him twice. Obviously there was some explaining to do.

But he only turned his palm upwards to interlock your fingers together, careful of the IV tubing. He tried to shift on the bed, only to grimace in pain and you inhaled a breath, worried for him.

“Just-” you swallowed, fighting the urge to put your hand to his chest like you would normally do if you just wanted him to sit. “Just take it easy, okay?”

Carlos nodded, glancing down at your hands and then at the cast on his wrist and then sighing with deep despair as he took in the bandages wrapped around his body.

“Not like I had a shot at the championship anyway,” he joked, already thinking about the last half of the season.

You didn’t want to laugh. Nothing about him sitting in a hospital bed was funny, but it was no surprise he was thinking about Formula 1. He was a driver, racing was in his blood.

So you just cracked a hint of a smile and tried to change the topic to something else, something more pressing.

“I didn’t know you were back in Madrid.”

Carlos paused, “I just got in today.”

Your brows pinched together, “What do you mean? Didn’t your break start two weeks ago?”

“I was in Italy, for a bit,” he told you, his thumb brushing over yours. “But I didn’t want to be there. All I wanted was to come home. All I wanted was to see you.”

Your heart sank deep into your chest, “Don’t tell me you got into a car accident when you were on the way to my place.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

“Carlos,” You wanted to scold him, really. You had broken up, he didn’t need to come see you. If he had just stayed in Italy, if he hadn’t decided he needed to see you, he’d be fine and not laying with limited motion in a hospital bed. You were the reason he ended up here.

He always said you’d be the death of him.

“I love you,” Carlos said, sounding more sure of his own words than he ever had before. “I love you, and I don’t care if you walk out on me every time I say it because I’m just going to follow you. I made a mistake the first time, letting you leave. I made it again in Barcelona and I’m not doing that anymore, I’m not going anywhere, hermosa and if I do, I’ll always come home to you.”

You had thought you were all cried out, having tears stream down your face the entire drive to the hospital as you thought about your relationship with Carlos. The good, the bad, everything in between. You cried thinking you’d never get a chance to create another memory with him. You were distraught, wanting to scream into the abyss because even if you weren’t with Carlos, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

You loved him.

You always had. You always will.

And you weren’t going to go another second with him thinking his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

A single tear fell down your cheek as you locked eyes with him, the only person in your life you would ever give your heart to and know, without doubt, that he would give his back in return.

“I love you,” you finally told him, the biggest weight lifted off your chest, one that had been dragging you down for months. “I love you, Carlos, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did. I'm sorry it took this for me to tell you. I'm so sorry, I love you, I love you-”

You moved closer to him, dropping your head to rest against his after you kissed his temple, quietly repeating that you loved him over and over again. You placed your hand against his cheek, holding Carlos against you and he covered your hand with his, not wanting to let go.

He’d let you go one two many times and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

And you wouldn’t give him a reason to.

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