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gurugirl · 9 months

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STOPPPPP IT THE SHORTS ARE SO SHORT! WTF THE TIGER IS SHOWING! OMG Y/N WOULD GO CRAZYYYYYYY OVER IT. okok so maybe y/n gets jealous that Harry was wearing such short shorts in public that she ends up getting moody and Harry makes it up to her by letting her ride his thigh and fucks her saying stuff like “y’know this cock belongs to you darling” and stuff 😩😩

HAPPY FRIDAY YOU GUYS!!!

PLEASE I've been looking at these pics all day. What is this man thinking????????? I cannot handle him. He's such a tease. And I wrote this way too fast. Sorry if it sucks but this picture deserves a smut piece written about it. He's too fucking hot.

1.6k words

warning: mostly plotless smut, not proofread whatsoever

Y/n was used to Harry being ogled. Always the hottest guy in the room with the most charisma and charm. Everyone flocked to him and everyone's eyes always followed him. He was magnetic. And he knew it too.

As much as she realized she had nothing to worry about she still got jealous of the attention he constantly got. He didn't even need to try. He could be wearing a backwards baseball cap and loose jeans with a t-shirt and people would still be after her man.

And today, their little break away from the business of life led them to a relaxing little outing in the Italian sun. Before they'd even left the villa she eyed his short green trunks and how his fit torso was in full view, the long sleeved shirt draped over his shoulders, totally unbuttoned.

Biting her tongue, she figured she was being silly wishing he'd cover up a bit. She certainly wouldn't take well to him telling her to cover up, not that he'd ever.

But once they were on the beach and about to board their private yacht she did notice women and men alike watching him. His bronzed chiseled abs and pecs peeking out from the shirt, and of course he'd tucked his shorts up a bit to protect the mesh lining from chafing this inner thighs (he always did that because he said his package was too large to sit comfortably in the lining and it gave him a little extra support). His strong thighs on full view holding his tall frame upright as he carried both of their bags.

"Come on," he held his hand out to her as he helped her up into the boat safely.

He could tell she was a little pouty. He knew her too well. Knew he was being eye fucked by half the beach as they walked to the yacht they'd rented for the afternoon.

"What's wrong, love?" He grinned as he pulled at the strap of her bathing suit teasingly.

"Nothing. Just looking forward to getting out onto the ocean."

Harry crowded her space, stepping in front of her so she couldn't look at anything but him, "Yeah? Is that it? You seem to have been awfully quiet all morning. Nothing else you want to talk about?"

She looked up at him and the smirk he wore told her that he knew just what she was pouting about. But she just shook her head and crossed her arms, "Nope."

The low chuckle that fell from his chest as he pushed her arms down and grasped her wrists made her cheeks warm up, "Liar. You're jealous."

Harry kind of liked that she got jealous. Because in all truth, he'd get jealous when anyone would look at her just the same.

"Am not."

Harry walked her backward as the driver of the yacht began to move the boat out to sea, "Let's go down into the suite for a bit. Need to show you something," he gestured toward the door that lead to the stairs to get to the lower level.

She huffed as she carefully stepped down into the furnished room. It was small but there was a counter with a TV above it, a mini bar with fridge, a bathroom, a sitting area and a bed in the center.

Harry closed and locked the door before grasping Y/n's arms and pushing her toward the bed, pressing his chest into her back and speaking into her ear in a dark baritone, "Let's figure out what's got you so moody. Maybe I can help."

She tried to keep her composure but his voice and his skin and his hands always melted her poise.

When he felt her relax into his hold he smiled and kissed the back of her neck, bringing her into the bed with him, "There we go."

Y/n climbed into the middle of the bed and sat on her bottom as Harry spread out next to her, "Hop on. Let's talk."

She looked down at his lap and back into his eyes. She knew his plan. It always worked.

Biting the inside of her cheek she quietly moved to straddle his lap but he stopped her from fully spanning his thighs with hers, "Just sit on the tiger for a minute."

She looked up at him like he was crazy but settled herself right over his thigh, the crotch of her swimsuit right on top of the inked tiger on his strong thigh.

"Good girl. See that," he looked down to how she was sitting on him, "No one else gets to do that. Just cause they can see it doesn't mean they can fuck themselves on me like this. Know you like that, don't you?"

She nodded bit her bottom lip.

"That's right." Harry put his hands at her hips and pulled her up and then pushed her back a bit, "Let's see you do it. Show me who this belongs to."

Once Harry got her momentum going she rocked over his taut, muscular thigh gently. Harry kissed her softly and moaned, "See? What they don't know is that this tiger gets his face fucked by the prettiest little pussy. Gets to have your scent all over it. Cause you own it. Don't you, love?"

"Yes." She squeaked pathetically.

She was already so turned on and it wasn't because of the way she was rubbing her cloth-covered clit over his thigh. It was the way he was speaking to her. She could feel herself getting wet slowly and the faster she rocked she noticed Harry's large bulge under his short green trunks.

"Getting him coated, love. Good job, honey. You need a little more? Want to come?"

"Y- yes. I do, Harry..." She lowered her hand from his shoulder to cup his thickened cock, "want this."

"Mmm... want my cock? Want to fuck yourself on my cock? Fuck what's yours?"

She nodded and the look in his eyes turned quickly from soft green to dark and lusty, "Take your bottoms off right now."

She quickly got up to her knees and pulled her swim bottoms down her legs as Harry pulled his green trunks off, his cock bobbing heavily as he leaned his back into the headboard.

She climbed after him, desperate to have him inside of her and she whined as she grasped him and placed his hot, thick crown at her entrance. She paused as she looked him in the eyes but Harry needed her just as much. He put his hands at her waist and pushed her down onto him, groaning lowly at the relief.

"Fuck. This cock is all yours, Y/n. Every bit of me is all yours, darling."

She keened as she felt him inside her guts so deep it ached.

Slowly she began rolling her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy down over him, keeping her clit satisfyingly smeared against his pelivs.

"It's mine," she whined as she put her hands on his shoulders and rocked quickly, the sound of her wet pussy sucking his cock in deep sounded between them.

"Yes it is. Fuck it like you mean it, Y/n. Want to see you own it. Need you to milk me dry."

Y/n gasped when Harry put his hands under her thighs and helped her ride him properly. It was always a task to fuck him this way but so worth the view and the orgasm.

She wanted to make him come so hard. Make him dizzy and mushy and drain his balls of everything he had. She wanted his come inside of her where it belonged. Because it was hers. No one could have Harry in this way. He was her man.

"Yes, baby. Riding me so good. Fuck yourself on me deep, honey. Make yourself come on me baby. Take what's yours, Y/n."

Her chest was getting hot and her thighs were burning as their wet skin slopped together each time she dropped down onto his cock, tucking him deep inside of her so his balls were up against her ass.

Looking down between their bodies it was a sticky, creamy mess. The trimmed hair at the base of Harry's shaft was white with cream and his girthy cock was stretching her out so beautifully.

"Harry! Oh my god. I'm gonna come!"

"Yeah?" Harry widened his thighs and bent his knees the slightest bit so he could take her over the edge and fuck into her so deep she could feel his come in her womb. The moment he began to move his hips into her she yelped and gasped and her fingers dug into his shoulders sharply, "Who's cock is this, baby? Tell me who it belongs to, honey," his words were grunted.

"It's mine! You're mine, Harry!" Her world was spinning as she jolted up each time he punched into her from his position below. His fingers dug into her ass and he clenched his teeth as he began to throb.

"S'right. This cock is yours. I'm yours, Y/n. Fucking gonna make me come aren't you, baby?"

She nodded and then her mouth dropped open and she grew silent as her orgasm washed over her body. Her ears rang as she pulsed over his cock.

Harry choked out a loud moan and filled her to the brim with himself as he stilled his hips and his thigh trembled at the exertion.

Gasps and soft inhaled breaths were stifled when Y/n pushed her lips to his and pressed her chest into his tightly, her arms wrapping around him.

Harry grunted a laugh and pinched her bottom and she jumped.

"Told you I could help. All better now?" Harry cooed at his sweet girl.

Pulling back to look at him she smiled, "All better now."

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

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The Inheritance

Guys, I keep messing up the timeline. So here we go. Christian, Geri, and Mitch find out about Lorenzo and your parents disowning you at your last F2 race. Max finds out about Lorenzo in this chapter (although not written in detail). Max then finds out about your parents in chapter 18 “All For You.”

This is proof that I listen to my readers :D @dreamy-state-of-mind asked to see how reader bought her cars and this chapter was created! I can't do every ask for an idea but I try to listen to what y'all want!

Y'all are being fed...two chapters in a row (which means the next one won't be out for a little bit - so I apologize!)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Your hands were in your pockets as you walked around the open room. You had somehow lost Max, Vito, AND Christian. It wasn’t like you meant to walk away, you just did on accident. How could someone know that the foreign car dealership was this big. Well, you would know, but that’s beside the point.

It was quite cold in Germany. Thankfully, you had packed extra layers, something the men seemed to not know how to do. You were sure that Max would have worn his Red Bull polo if you didn’t mention to Kelly where you were going. Sure, he could dress on his own, but who would want that?

Your eyes gazed at all of the cars on the floor. Most were the common stock models. Audis, Mercedes, and even Volkswagens littered the area; yet, the cars you were looking for were nowhere to be found. You kept heading in the same direction, hoping to at least find a familiar someone who looked like they worked there.

Your ears picked up on some German words. Feet taking faster steps, you rounded a corner. Ah, there they were.

Somehow you completely missed seeing that the Porsches would be in a different room. You gingerly stepped farther into the vast open-ceiling room. Your hand itched to touch them, but you knew better.

Looking at the cars brought back some great memories of the first time your godfather took you here. Yes, he could have gotten any Italian brand of car that he wanted. Everything was at his fingertips. Yet, he brought 11-year-old you to Germany to get his imported cars.

Your eyes landed on a familiar model. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the imprints of Lorenzo’s and your laughs as he took you to do donuts in abandoned parking lots.

“A beauty isn’t she,” a voice scared you, causing you to fall on your ass. Your cheeks burned at the thought of being caught. Yet, when your eyes met familiar friendly ones, the redness left.

“Hi Seb,” you greeted as you took his outstretched hand that he offered. He pulled you to your feet and into a hug. After you were done, you pulled away to turn back to the car. This time, you let your hand gently grace the older door.

“Enzo had one,” you simply stated, leaving it at that. Most knew you didn’t like to talk about the man, since it brough on so many emotional memories.

Sebastian took a couple steps and stood next to you.

“Do you still have the keys to the garage?”

You grinned up at the German ex-driver. “Of course I have the keys. You know he left me the entire house.”

He bumped your shoulder, head jerking to lead you away from the car. You followed without hesitation.

“What do you plan to do with it?”

You cocked your head in thought. “I’m going to keep it for now. I don’t want to sell it. It’s not like I need the money anyway.”

He chuckled. “I forget that you’re like a multi-millionaire at 20.”

You just shrugged. “Not my fault that I was basically his only family. I never asked for it.” Your eyes dropped to the shiny floor below. A hand was placed on your shoulder.

“I know. I’m glad that you’re well off. Makes me feel better about not seeing you as much.” A sad smile graced his face as he looked at you.

You tried your best to give him a genuine one in return. “I’m doing much better than I was.”

“Have you showed Max your vast array yet?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’. “I plan to soon, actually. I told him that I needed to go to Italy after this.”

Seb raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. You went to talk, but familiar voices echoed in the big room.

“Kid!”

“Seb?”

Your head whipped toward the sound. Ah, there they were.

And they brought an assistant with them.

Max and Christian looked at Seb in question as Vito brought the German into a big hug. You stood toward the side to watch the two friends reunite. The assistant took this opportunity to approach you.

“Ah Miss L/n, so good to see you again!”

“Again?” Max questioned, looking at you.

The assistant turned to the Dutchman. “Yes. Miss L/n has been a patron at this establishment for years now.” He turned back to you. “I have the two models that you called ahead for. I will lead you to them.”

The man turned on his heal and began to walk deeper into the room.

Sebastian was now talking to Vito and Christian, which led to Max walking by you.

“I didn’t know you’d been here before.”

You looked up at him with a sly smile. “My godfather bought a lot of his cars from here and would take me with him. Some of the cars at the front are a part of his collection that I donated when he passed. He left me so many, I didn’t know what to do with them.”

Max stopped in his tracks as you kept walking. Once he got over his shock, he sped up to catch you.

“So many?”

You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Maxie, how much money do you think I have?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

“Couple thousand?”

You shook your head.

An eyebrow rose. “A couple hundred thousand?”

Another shake as a mouth dropped.

Max looked around before whispering, “Millions?”

“Bingo. We’re going to tour my house when we go to Italy.”

You kept on walking, leaving the even more confused Dutchman.

“House?”

A few steps more and you had caught up with the group of four men. Christian whistled at the sight of what lie before him.

“Thank you Mr. Klein,” you shook the assistants hand as you looked at the two dark green cars in front of you. “Did the payment go through well?”

The man nodded. “Yes it did. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer send their best regards and also thank you for the donation.”

The four men (minus your manager) gawk at you. Yet, you were too busy beaming.

“I’m so glad. Tell them that I will reach out the next time I’m here for longer. I want to see their children again, I miss them.”

With a couple more goodbyes, weird stares, and going over plans to ship your Porsches to Monaco and England safely – you were on your way to Italy.

Thankfully Sebastian wanted to join, saying something about how he hadn’t seen the house in forever. Which brought on more questioning looks from Max.

However, Christian had to sadly say goodbye as he had a connecting flight to go somewhere else for business. You promised you’d send some pictures when you could.

A chauffer had met you at the airport, names written in fancy calligraphy on a starch white piece of paper.

The man gave you two cheek kisses as you greeted him.

“Guido! Come stai amico mio?” (how are you my friend?)

Max couldn’t wipe the look off his face as you began to talk to the older gentleman in perfect Italian. Vito only patted his shoulder.

“You’ll get used to it. She’s definitely someone to unravel. You’ll get there.”

The four of you then followed the man to the Rolls Royce that was waiting in the parking area. Suitcases were loaded in, and the three of you were on your way to your house.

Or, more like mansion/estate/castle that Max found out as the car pulled closer. He turned to you.

“Kid?”

“Inheritance Max. Inheritance.”

Your door was opened once the car was parked. Multiple people came out of the house, wanting to greet you.

“La mia famiglia! Mi siete manvati tutti!” (My family! I’ve missed all of you!”)

A couple of the staff took your bags as you walked through the giant doorway. Once you were through, you turned around and opened your arms.

“Max, welcome to Casa di Lorenzo Alessandrino.”

Max’s head was in a state of looking upwards as he walked in. He would have held his mouth open, but the interior seemed to demand respect as power and poise dripped from its walls. Now it was turn for Max’s hands to itch, wanting to touch everything.

Once everything was settled, you gave Max a tour as Vito and Seb went to go get some drinks. Your fingers twirled a special key ring as you led Max to your garage.

You turned to him and gave a smile. “You ready?”

Let’s just say, Max was not ready to see so many cars. Max let his jaw drop.

The garage was deep and long, probably housing close to 40-ish cars. Your eyes glimmered as you looked at the older cars that you missed dearly.

“You can go look you know,” you told Max as you made your way down the little staircase to the floor. Your heels clicked and echoed with each step. Max was quick to be on your tail. The Dutchman made his way quickly to each car, stopping for only a second before getting distracted by the next.

You hummed as you looked at the empty spot among the Ferrari’s on the back wall. You pointed to it when Max came up beside you again.

“The only car Lorenzo never had in his collection was the F40. I need to talk to Charles or Carlos about seeing how I can get one ethically. I want to complete the collection, but not pay far more than what it’s worth.”

Max nodded, soaking in your words. He was about to say something, but a flash of orange caught his attention. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the spaceship looking car.

“What kind of car is that?”

You smirked as you gazed on your most prize possession.

You walked closer and clicked the keys, making the car roar to life only for a second. (You don’t want to give you and Max monoxide poisoning.)

Your hand ran over the orangey hues that covered the car.

“This is the Apollo Project Evolution.”

Max looked down at the hyper car.

“What that a V12?”

“Yep. A Ferrari V12 to be exact. Three million dollars, one in ten made, over 700 horsepower, and completely street legal. I’d take you for a ride, but I would rather keep this between me and whoever knows about it.”

You turned on your heel to start walking toward the door where you walked in. “I bought it because it reminded me of the spaceship from Guardians of the Galaxy.”

Max snickered as he could imagine you at 14-years-old, watching that movie and falling in love with the space craft. Then, he imagined you last year, trying to find out how you could get your hands on it.

He took one last glance at the big room, before following you back into the house. He softly shut the big door behind him.

“Does Arthur know about this place?” he asked as he caught up to you, not wanting to get lost.

You softly smiled at him. “Yes. I brought him here after Lorenzo passed away in 2020. I just didn’t want to be alone. Vito was here as well.”

Max returned your sad smile. You and Vito had told him about the place on your way here. Tears were shed, hugs were given out, but you’d get through it.

But then he suddenly pouted at the thought of you not bringing him here earlier.

You tutted. “Don’t worry, Charles hasn’t been here if that’s what you’re pouting about.”

That brought an instant grin to his face. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. Soon, you joined Vito and Sebastian in the kitchen. Aperol Spritzes lined the kitchen counter. Your hand reached one, before Vito was thrusting an different one into your hands. You pouted when you realized that yours was probably nonalcoholic.

Sebastian snorted. “Let the kid have one.”

“Vito, what do you think they do for podiums? Make sure mine isn’t actual champagne?”

Vito rolled his eyes and handed you one from the kitchen counter. You quickly smiles and took a sip of the bubbly drink.

“So kid, did you show Max the garage?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his own drink.

You nodded as you placed your cup down. “Yep!”

“And the track?”

“You have a track!?”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 glad to be back to my home away from home. Italia, quanto mi sei mancato. conserverai sempre ricordi preziosi e non posso ringraziarti abbastanza per amarmi da bambino. quando tornerò sarò sul podio, ne sono sicuro

(translation : italy how i've missed you. you will always hold precious memories and i can't thank you enough for loving me as a child. when i return, i'll be on the podium - i'm sure of it)

liked by sebastianvettel, vito_official, y/nlover, and 58,204 others

y/n's_fav who was going to tell me that our girl knows Italian?

y/n_updates she speaks it fluently! her godfather was Italian and taught her when she was growing up! y/n_on_top all I'm hearing is that her, Carlos, and Charles can now talk shit about Max if needed

charles_leclerc quindi Max non riesce a capire? (so max can't understand?)

y/n.89 no, quindi è ora di svelare i segreti dell'infanzia, Charlie (no, so spill the childhood secrets Charlie) carlossainz55 abbiamo molto da dire (we have a lot to tell) maxverstappen1 I CAN READ MY OWN NAME - I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME y/n.89 senti qualcosa? (do you hear something?)

vito_official così felice di essere a casa. possiamo restare ancora un po'? Guido e Luigi dicono che gli manchiamo troppo (so glad to be home. can we stay a bit longer? Guido and Luigi say they miss us too much)

y/n.89 mi mancheranno così tanto. torneremo presto! (i'll miss them so much. we'll be back soon!)

sebastianvettel glad to have been able to go with you! I'll see you soon kinder!

y/n_in_italy NOT HER HOUSEKEEPERS'S NAMES BEING GUIDO AND LUIGI

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hikarry · 3 months

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I'm a big apologist of Aziraphale/Wilde for jealous Crowley reasons and I do wish there were more fanfics about the topic. Or even not about Wilde, just the men in the gentleman's club. Crowley was supposedly asleep at the time but he is clever, he would figure it out somehow (memorabilia Aziraphale keeps in the bookshop, for example) but I don't think he would really bring it up. He would be jealous in silence.

On the other hand, I'm also an apologist of Crowley/Da Vinci. It's not everyone that has a bloody sketch of the Mona Lisa with the message "For my friend, Antonio" or something along those lines (I think it was written in Italian? I can't remember anymore). And Crowley has kept it in pristine condition for centuries!

By now, everyone knows Leo was queer, yes? Fantastic.

Crowley is attracted to art like music and statues, but you know what else? Engineering! Because he used to be a Star-Maker, and what was Leo besides an amazing artist? An engineer! Do you really think Crowley wouldn't be attracted as hell by his inventions? Especially the flying machine?

Now, with the idea that they knew each other and probably spent a lot of time together in the workshop and drinking and what not...well, have you looked at Crowley? He's gorgeous! And artists are attracted to pretty things. My headcanon is that Leo painted Crowley at least once.

Now, a good story would be if the painting was lost in time and eventually found and it made a tour through the best museums and made a stop in London, eventually.

Aziraphale would be excited, Crowley would be curious, and they would go together.

When they arrive in front of the painting Crowley goes very still and Aziraphale gasps.

"But! But that's you!"

"Mhnn eh how would I know? Plenty of red heads back then in Italy, I assure you."

Aziraphale points at the picture.

"I would recognize that face anywhere, Crowley!"

"Aw, angel, would you? What a flatterer."

"That's not the point! This painting...this painting is gorgeous. But aren't you a bit too...au naturel?"

"Agh, eh, I mean. Plenty of semi nude paintings to go around from that era."

"Yes, but in that case the artist and the muse were quite close." Gasp. "Anthony J Crowley, you had a...a thing with Leonardo Da Vinci?! While I was in Spain?!"

"Ngk. I wouldn't call it a thing. More like...a tiny thing."

So yeah, while Crowley is jealous on the inside, Aziraphale (especially if they were already in a relationship) would be very obvious about it and very vocal. Even petty if we want to go down that route.

"Please, angel, you've been avoiding me for 2 days."

"I refused to be kissed with the same lips that kissed Da Vinci."

"Oh yeah? What about your 'friend' Oscar Wilde?!"

Aziraphale gasps and blushes.

"Why the hell would you bring Wilde into this conversation?!"

Crowley steps closer.

"I know exactly what you did with him back in the 1800s. And yet I never complained did I?"

"...since when?"

"The 40s."

"And you never told me you knew?!"

"Because I don't care! I mean, I do, it hurt a little. A lot. But I got over it. That was a century ago, Aziraphale. And I have you now, don't I? I won in the end."

Sorry, I easily get sidetracked. My point is: more Crowley/Da Vinci fanfic or even art are needed.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #david tennant #anthony j crowley #michael sheen

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

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Propaganda

Frances Dee (Becky Sharpe, Little Women)—no propaganda submitted

Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight, Casablanca, Notorious)—Where do I even begin with Ingrid Bergman? I fell in love with her with her astounding performance in the 1956 version of Anastasia -- the best Anastasia movie in large part due to her wonderful and touching performance. She's got this amazing, fascinating intensity to her in whatever role she's in. She commits 100%, and she's got this light in whatever she's in that's stunning. She's utterly convincing no matter what she plays, from an amnesiac possible lost princess, from a nun, from a woman taking her revenge on the town that wronged her, to light romantic comedy. She's never missed in any role I've seen her in! Also she became quite the MILF.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Frances Dee:

Ingrid Bergman:

God, she's fantastic. She's both beautiful and a compelling actor who's more than capable of putting the whole movie on her shoulders if necessary. It's worth noting that while her beauty is conventional, she was seen as refreshingly "natural" with more eyebrows and less makeup than many other leading ladies of the time. She's well known for her role in Casablanca, but in Notorious, Spellbound, (both available on archive.org ) and Gaslight (1944) she shows how immensely capable she is. [editor's note: I've seen all of these movies and I think they're fine, but it's been a minute, so I can't thoroughly tag for trigger warnings or officially "recommend"—as always, go forth with caution when a movie is mentioned in a propaganda submission, and don't take a mention as an official recommendation of this blog.]

I mean...she's Ingrid Bergman. I feel like that should be enough, you know? She's physically beautiful (her eyes!) but watching her is like a transcendent experience. Her voice, her expressions... beautiful woman, beautiful actor.

I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.

Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!

Choosing 1-3 movies where Bergman was at her hottest was agony because, of course, she was always at her hottest. Not just because she was beautiful but because she was absolutely willing to go up against the bs women in Hollywood were constantly dealing with. When exiled from Hollywood for having an affair with Roberto Rossellini, not only did she refuse to apologize at any point, but she went on to say that Hollywood's films had grown stagnant and boring to her. Though she said she appreciated her time working there, she wanted to try new, different techniques (hence starring in Italian neorealist films, working on stage, and acting under directors like Ingmar Bergman). She was not afraid to chase after her artistic ideals and go outside the box regardless of what society had to say about it. From her first movie to her last she killed it. There's so much more to say about Bergman's career and life, but I've already written five million words so I'll stop at that.

One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.

SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy

She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!

She left Hollywood and only became more beautiful. You could drown in her eyes. She can look innocent AND like she's seen it all. She is effortlessly elegant. She's played Joan of Arc (automatically hot) AND was in the movie that coined gaslight as a term. And where would we be without that!

She was known for being a breath of fresh air on the movie scene at the time with her windswept hair, dreamy smile and soulful eyes. I have loved her in every movie I have seen her in - she was just magnetic!

Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget

With a career spanning five decades, Bergman is often regarded as one of the most influential screen figures in cinematic history. Known for her naturally luminous beauty, Bergman spoke five languages – Swedish, English, German, Italian and French – and acted in each.

She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group

A lot of the time hotness in a movie is just about words and framing. "You're the most beautiful person here" [vaseline lens] well I sure hope so because that's who you cast. But when, in Casablanca, they call Ingrid Bergman the most beautiful woman in the world... they were not fucking lying. And such a dynamite actor too!! I'd only seen Casablanca up until last year, and there she's confined to love interest. But in Gaslight she was maybe one of the most incredible actors I've ever seen!!!! Goddddd shes so fucking hot and cool.

#ingrid bergman #frances dee #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman

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cupid-styles · 8 months

Text

ginger ale (sugar daddy!h)

Harry is a rich CEO and Mia is a grad student that's eight years younger. It just so happens that they may be the answer to one another's problems.

Content warnings: age gap (8 years), sugar daddy dynamic, alcohol, smut, slight daddy kink

Word count: 8k (grab a snack and a bev and enjoy!)

masterlist | talk to me

Mia's never been attracted to older men but somehow, she's found herself sitting at a two-person table at one of the fanciest Italian restaurants in the city, nibbling on the end of the straw in her glass of ginger ale, awaiting the arrival of her date, a man who is eight years older.

To be fair, she got to the restaurant 20 minutes early and forced herself to sit in her car. She tried occupying herself by scrolling through Instagram and TikTok and playing a few rounds of Candy Crush, but she couldn't shake the anxiety bubbling in her stomach.

She weighed her options: she could drive away, go home, change out of this ridiculously uncomfortable outfit, order Chinese and rot on the couch all night. Or, she could text him here!:), go inside, say she's here for a reservation under Styles (a fake last name, she's almost sure of it), and actually give this guy a chance.

Mia desperately wishes she doesn't have a moral compass because indeed, all she wanted to do was binge watch New Girl until her eyes feel like they're going to roll out of her head, but she'd feel so shitty for standing her date up. Grumbling, she turned her car off, stuffed her keys in her purse, and walked into the restaurant, 15 minutes early.

Thankfully the staff doesn't bat an eye at her arrival time, instead escorting her to a rather private corner of the restaurant.

"This is Mr. Styles' table, but please let us know if you'd prefer something more suitable to your needs," The hostess explains as she places entree and drink menus in front of Mia.

"Oh, this is great, thank you," She replies, trying not to let any inklings of shock seep through her voice. This guy had his own table? Her eyes bulge as she glances over the wine list, her eyebrows raised slightly at the triple digit numbers accompanying fancy French names. How rich did he have to be to dine here that often?

Mia's phone buzzes, tearing her gaze away from the overwhelming menu. It's Harry, her date, who says he'll be there soon. Sorry you're waiting on me — order a bottle of wine for us, whatever you like, he'd written, making Mia roll her eyes. He must think far too highly of her if he thinks she knew what any of these wines even are.

She settles on her comfort drink instead, a ginger ale filled to the brim with ice. If this wasn't such a nice place, she would pop ice cubes between her teeth, but she figures that's a major faux pas for first dates at restaurants where a plate of pasta cost upwards of $50.

Despite meeting on a dating app and familiarizing herself with his appearance, Mia knows Harry has arrived before she even sees him. The staff seems to stand up just a little straighter and the baseline hum of conversation tapers off.

When she looks up, she understands exactly why: Harry, whose last name apparently really was Styles, commands a certain presence the second he enters a room. He's striking, fashionable, and charming, floating through the dining area with a luxurious air. Everyone — including Mia — seems simultaneously intimidated and turned on.

Thank god she decided to go on this date.

. . .

Harry is so tired.

Physically, he's been running his body into the ground for the past 8 years or so, ever since he took on the role of CEO at his uncle's company when he retired. He knows that he was insanely fortunate and privileged, and 27 was a rather ridiculous age to run an entire conglomerate. As a result, he feels the incessant need to prove himself and make sure every single one of his employees feel taken care of.

So, he doesn't have much a social life.

He has his core group of friends from college. He's close with his family. He has friends at work, and he attends numerous charity events and galas as an investor. In hindsight, he has it all — except for a romantic partner.

Harry doesn't think that you need a boyfriend or girlfriend for life to be complete, but he's certainly guilty of missing it. He hasn't had a serious partner since college, a sweet girl named Zyla, but they broke up shortly after graduating. Since then, Harry has gone on tons of dates — he knows he had so much, and he wants to share it with someone. However, it seems that all of those people are after the same thing: wealth.

He understands it. Truly, he does, and he doesn't think those people were necessarily bad. But after years upon years of shitty first dates, he's exhausted. His best friend Mitch and his girlfriend Sarah suggested he try out dating apps, so they helped him sign up for Tinder and Bumble, where were fine enough. They were good at helping him scope out people he'd actually mesh well with, but they usually ended in one night stands, never to be heard from again.

Harry is 35. He doesn't want wild sex with strangers anymore.

After a date at a bar with a guy who didn't even pretend like he was interested in him romantically, Harry snapped. If money was all he was good for, he would be upfront about it from here on out. It had gotten him everything else he could've ever dreamed for in this life — a gorgeous penthouse apartment, designer clothes and shoes, non-profit donations galore — so why not just use it to find his forever partner?

That night, after polishing off a bottle of red wine to himself, he swiped onto his dating app of choice, clicked on settings, and deleted his existing bio. Sarah had initially suggested making it about what he liked and what he was looking for, but he was eager to rid his account of its current description: "Born in London, permanent NYC transplant. Love art, books, and fashion. Send me your favorite Fleetwood Mac song."

Without a second thought, he typed in a new bio: CEO. Let me take care of you.

. . .

Harry Styles makes Mia extremely nervous.

He hasn't even sat down yet and her stomach already feels like it's in her throat, her lips parted slightly as she took in his presence. He looks so effortlessly cool, and she's nearly positive she saw his trousers on the Gucci Instagram page last weekend.

"Hey," Harry grins as he approaches the table, shedding his body of the navy blue blazer he wore, "Mia, right?"

"Mhm." She nods tightly, noting at how the waiter pulled Harry's seat out for him, placing the menus out in front of him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Harry," he says as he settles into his seat. He glances up at the waiter and shoots him a charming smile. "Thank you, John."

John, apparently, quickly shuffles away. Mia squeezes her hands into tight fists under the table while Harry glances over the wine menu, though she was almost positive he was doing it as a courtesy if he knows everyone that works here.

"Did you have a chance to decide on a wine?" he asks, glancing up with raised eyebrows.

"Um, no," Mia mumbles, "I just got a... ginger ale."

She feels incredibly dumb now. What was she even doing here? She's wearing clothes from the clearance section of ASOS and a pair of platform oxfords, meanwhile, Harry's outfit looks like it cost her entire monthly rent.

"Oh, do you not drink? I'm sorry for assuming."

"I do," Mia replies with a shake of her head, her eyes drifting down back down to the drink list, "I just... don't really know any of these... and I also don't know how to pronounce most of them."

"That's okay. Is it alright if I pick one?"

Mia nods and rolls her lips into her mouth. She wonders if it was too late to escape — can she say she has to use the bathroom and try to sneak out the window? This has to be some kind of prank.

"Once we get our entrees, we can talk out the details of the arrangement, should you be interested," Harry murmurs, closing the faux leather of the main menu, "I'm not sure if you came prepared with certain stipulations, but I'm happy to hear any that you have."

Mia's eyes bulge, leaning forward slightly with furrowed eyebrows. "I'm... what?"

Of course, John decided to come back just as Harry's jaw ticked, looking just as confused.

"What can I get you two to eat this evening?" he asks, though Mia barely listens as Harry lists off some random wine, followed by a pasta dish. John looks down at Mia, who swallows harshly, grimacing.

"I'll do the same," she jumbles out. He nods and shoots her a smile before stepping away to put their orders in.

"What do you mean by arrangement?" Mia hisses out, leaning forward and keeping her voice low.

"You're joking, right?" Harry asks, a slight crinkle forming between his brows.

"Do you... what do you think this is?" Mia demands as she digs her fingernails into her palms. Does he think she's a prostitute or an escort? She doesn't think anything on her profile gives off that vibe, and while she knows she isn't dressed as nicely as he is, it isn't enough to warrant such an assumption.

"You... you read my bio, didn't you?" Harry questions, sitting back in his seat, "You understand what I'm looking for?"

"I have no fucking clue what you're talking about, Harry." Mia's teeth are gritted, her jaw set in annoyance.

He leans forward again, glancing over his shoulder to make sure none of the waitstaff is walking by. In a hushed tone, he mumbles something intelligible out.

"What? I didn't hear you."

"I'mlookingforasugarbaby."

"A what? Can you speak up a little?"

"A sugar baby!" Harry whispers out aggressively, clutching the corners of the table. Mia raises her eyebrows in shock and surprise, doing a mental recap of what she knew about Harry — she never would have swiped for him if that's all he was looking for, mainly because the whole concept made her too nervous. Their virtual conversations had been tame, consisting of normal questions about their occupations and hobbies. How did she miss this?

"I... I didn't know that's what you were looking for," Mia replies slowly, "Your profile didn't say anything about that..."

"Yes, it did!" Harry nearly whines, "'Let me take care of you?' That literally implies a sugar baby situation!"

"Are you serious?" Mia asks, her face twisted in a cross between confusion and disgust, "You think people understand that's what that means?"

"Obviously!"

Mia shakes her head and grabs her napkin from her lap, tossing it on the table. She feels so discouraged and frustrated, there's no way this Harry guy wasn't a total creep.

"Wait— Mia, don't go," Harry says, following her lead and standing from his seat, "Please, I'm sorry about the confusion. This isn't a reflection on you whatsoever. Can we just talk? I'll explain why I'm looking for this type of thing, treat you to dinner, no strings attached."

Mia sighs. Harry's expression and tone seem genuine and if she's being completely honest, a little naive, too. She's already here, hungry, and dressed up. It wouldn't hurt to stay.

"Fine," she mutters, plopping back down in her seat, "But you're getting me the cheesecake for dessert. And you're paying for my parking."

A small smile wiggles its way onto Harry's lips. "I'd be honored."

Mia has to look down at the tablecloth so he doesn't see the blush warming her cheeks.

. . .

Over large plates of pasta slathered in decadent sauces, Harry explains why he's in the market for a sugar baby.

"I've never looked for this type of relationship before—"

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Anyway, I'm so used to people only being interested in me for my money so I figured why not try to use it to my advantage, I guess. I'd want it to be as casual as possible... like I really am just looking for someone to come to events with me, maybe hang out on the weekends and go out on dates if we clicked enough."

Mia nods her head as she chews her penne vodka thoughtfully. "And what would I get in exchange?"

"Well, what do you want?" Harry asks through wine stained lips, "Do you have any bills you want paid? Student loan debt? Clothes, electronics, furniture?"

"How rich are you?" Mia questions before sipping on her second ginger ale of the night.

"I'm... definitely wealthy," Harry replies carefully, "My net worth is in the millions, if that tells you anything."

"You could've just said you're a millionaire."

"Are you always this bratty?"

She huffs, leaning back against the plushy velvet of her chair. She takes the lull in the conversation as an opportunity to sincerely contemplate the logistics of this situation: She stayed for the free meal from the rather... attractive, and apparently disgustingly rich man, but was she seriously, actually considering going through with this?

No. It was crazy.

Wasn't it?

"I can see you're having some sort of internal moral battle," Harry murmurs after taking a sip of wine. "I told you, no strings attached here. If you're not interested, it's more than okay."

"I don't know," Mia says, breathing out through her nose as she lowered her fork, "I would be lying if I said I didn't need the... financial assistance, I guess."

"Let's talk money, then," he shrugs, leaning his elbows on the crisp table cloth. "What do you need help with?"

Mia hadn't grown up poor, but she certainly had never been rich. Her parents had modest careers and were now retired. They taught her the importance of saving and paying her bills on time. They instilled education in her as top priority and never pressured her to pick a career that would make her the most money, instead pushing values of true happiness and satisfaction. It's honestly how she ended up in her second year of grad school with hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt under her belt.

"Well, I'm a student and I work part-time. I'm in grad school to become a social worker. I pick up shifts at the university's library when I'm not in class, so probably like... three or four days out of the week."

Harry nods, listening intently. His gaze is intense and it makes Mia's face warm.

"That seems like a lot," he says, a twinge of sympathy creeping into his tone, "You must be tired."

Mia shrugs her shoulders. "I guess."

Admittedly, she's uncomfortable with the apparent empathy Harry emits. She's used to being fairly independent and working herself to the point of burnout, solely because it was what'd she been doing since she was an undergrad. She's never entertained the thought of someone helping her out, let alone with finances.

Pursing his lips, he nods slowly before folding his hands together. "Here's what I'm willing to propose. I usually have one or two events a week, sometimes work-related, sometimes just appearances or charity things. If you'd be willing to be my date to at least one of them, I'm happy to have you quit your job and supplement that income. I can also pay off some of your student loan debt, however much you're comfortable with. I'm more than willing to work around your schedule, so if you can't attend something, that's absolutely fine. If you're struggling with rent or other bills, just let me know, and I can take care of those, too."

Mia's mouth goes dry. Harry speaks entirely too casually about money, let alone paying off massive things in her name that she'd been stressing out about for years. She quickly tucks her straw back between her lips and takes a hearty sip of ginger ale, focusing on the earthy taste and carbonation filling her mouth.

"Why?" She blurts out after swallowing, "You don't know me. I'm just some girl in grad school. For all you know, you'll take me to one of these events and I'll embarrass the shit out of you, or someone will figure out how we got involved. Isn't that worse?"

He hums, contemplating the points Mia had made. They're valid, sure, but they weren't deterring him either.

"What would you have to gain from embarrassing me?" He asks, rolling his lips into his mouth contemplatively. "I've been embarrassing myself for years by going out on dates with people who only want my money to begin with. We both need help and this is the best solution I could think of on my end. There's no pressure to agree, but I just think... well, maybe, we could be the answer to each other's problems."

Mia's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth when John reappears, asking if they wanted any to-go boxes or dessert.

She doesn't order any cheesecake, but she does text Harry late that night as she lays alone in her bed, mentally running back through the night for the thousandth time: If you're still interested, I'll do it.

. . .

Mia doesn't hear from Harry for a few days.

Her mind runs rampant when she doesn't have her nose buried in a textbook doing homework or sitting through three-hour long lectures. She can't help but wonder if he's decided it's not a good fit, or maybe the entire situation was ridiculous to begin with. From what she knew about sugar babies — or what she thought she knew — was that they typically involved some sort of sexual favors in exchange for money, but Harry hadn't mentioned anything about that. All he asked for was for her to accompany him at an event once or twice a week, and he was willing to pay for her bills and chunks of her student loans.

Maybe the entire thing was just too good to be true.

So by day three, that's what Mia assumed. After all, he was a 35 year old millionaire — he definitely could do far better than a stressed out student.

She has an apple cinnamon candle burning and one of those eight hour long lo-fi YouTube videos on her TV, hoping the beat-ridden songs would somehow seep some level of productivity into her brain. She was working on a paper she had due in a couple of days, but she was only four out of 12 pages in, and she had the assignment for the past month.

She was just about ready to give up, blow out her candle, and tucker in for the night when her phone buzzes, the loud vibration echoing against the wood of her coffee table, making her jump. She didn't know what time it is, but she knew it was too late for any normal person to be texting her.

That's why she's only partially surprised when Harry's name pops up on her screen.

I have to go to a charity thing at a museum tomorrow night. It starts at 7 pm. Would you be available?

Mia was slightly confused by this — she thought that he would reach back out at some point to iron out the fine details, but it seemed as though Harry didn't care for those. She mentally goes over her schedule for tomorrow; she has classes from 10 am to 3 pm and she should work on this paper when she gets back.

What time would it end?

Nearly immediately after firing off that text, she tapped at the screen again: also, what are you doing up? It's almost 2 am.

The familiar speech bubble popped up almost instantly. Mia wedged her thumbnail between her teeth, biting at it as she watched the three dots.

It'll probably be over by 11 but I can always get you home earlier if you need. Also, I could ask you the same thing.

She pressed her lips together. There was so much she didn't know about Harry and yet, she couldn't help the way her body warmed ever so slightly at the thought of spending the night on his arm.

11 works for me. Should I know anything about the event or you before we do this? I don't want to embarrass myself by not knowing basic facts about you if I end up talking to people.

Mia's surprised when the dots immediately pop back up, but she supposes he's not doing much at 2 in the morning. She tucks her legs under her body and grabs the fuzzy blanket draped over the back of the couch as his next messages comes through.

Are you suggesting we play some sort of fuckboy 20 questions game?

She snickers at that and imagines the way his eyes widened teasingly, as if her request was as outlandish as asking him to come over for a late night hookup.

Which she would never do, and promises she hasn't fantasized about doing it every night since she saw Harry last.

Call it what you want, I just don't want to get kicked out of some fancy event because I don't even know your middle name.

She takes up her decades-long nervous habit of nibbling on her thumbnail when her phone starts vibrating in her palm, this time signifying an incoming call from Harry. She initially wonders if it's some sort of butt dial, panicking about answering it, but by the fifth ring she figures he would've caught on by now, so she quickly presses the green button and lifts it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"You didn't think we were gonna play 20 questions over text, did you?"

. . .

Harry thinks he could stay up until sunrise talking to Mia.

Conversation flows naturally, like they're childhood best friends and have known each other their whole lives. If he hadn't been born eight years before her in a different country, he would actually wonder if that were the case, but youthful, snappy remarks are enough to remind him that there's no way this girl ever existed in his life before. He would've remembered her, even if they'd only met for a moment.

They talk about anything and everything to soothe Mia's nerves about not knowing basic facts about one another. Her middle name is Lucille and she grew up in Connecticut with an older sister. They bond about being the youngest sibling and having divorced parents. Her comfort food is boxed macaroni and cheese, which makes Harry's nose wrinkle, though she swears it's the perfect meal to eat after a stressful day.

"What should I wear tomorrow night?" Mia asks sometime around 3:15, when their conversation begins to dwindle down. Harry hums and picks at a loose thread on his vintage tee-shirt.

"Any sort of dress will do," he replies casually, "I can always have my stylist send some options over if you'd like, just text me your size."

She snorts at that. "Yeah, I think I'll pass on that. You wore head-to-toe Gucci the other night and I'm pretty sure designer shit runs, like, three sizes too small on women."

"Point taken," Harry admits, backing off. "It's not too fancy of an event so don't stress. Do you have anything in mind?"

"Mm, maybe. I have a pink slip dress I wear on dates sometimes. Do you think that would be alright?"

Harry's stomach twists at the thought of Mia going out on dates with other people, but he quickly shoves the feeling down.

"Sounds pretty," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "Send me a picture before tomorrow night so I can match you."

Mia smiles to herself. "That's cute. I'll see you tomorrow then, yeah?"

"Yeah, my driver will pick you up at 6:30. Sleep tight, Mi."

"G'night, Harry," she says softly before hanging up the phone. She tries to ignore the way her heart warms at the new use of a nickname.

. . .

Mia has had a bad day.

She stayed up too late last night talking to Harry, and she's trying not to give too much weight to the fact that butterflies invade her stomach every time she thinks about their two-hour long conversation. She snoozed her alarm to the last possible minute so she couldn't take a shower before class this morning and her professor called on her when she wasn't paying attention, so she stumbled through some bullshit answer about child psychology like an idiot.

She didn't have time to grab lunch between her second and third classes, so by the time she got home, she was starving, tired, and grumpy, but she had to get ready for Harry's charity event. She stuffs a bagel down her throat and hopes there's decent food before jumping in the shower, pulling on her dress, and doing just enough with her makeup and hair. She's additionally grouchy that she didn't have enough time today to make a dent in her paper that's now due in only three days, but she knows she can only blame herself for poor time management.

When she receives a text from Harry that says "Here x", she tries to take a deep breath to rid herself of the day's worries and anxieties. Typically around this time, she'd be elbow deep in a carton of lo mein from her favorite Chinese restaurant and preparing a eucalyptus-scented bath, but she reminds herself that she already agreed to do this for Harry. And the money.

Her platform sandals click against the sidewalk outside of her home, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of a sleek black town car with a man standing outside of it.

"Mia?" he asks, his lips pressed in a tight line. She nods and he opens the door for her, motioning for her to get inside.

When she climbs in, she sees Harry on the interior, his thumbs tapping against the screen of his phone. He glances up to look at her and her breath stalls for a moment. He's wearing a baby pink silk shirt underneath his blazer, matching the exact shade of her dress.

"Hey," Harry smiles, tucking his phone in his breast pocket, "You look beautiful."

"Your shirt." she points out dumbly.

"What about it? Do you not like it?"

"I love it," she blurts out as the man shuts the car door closed, "I didn't think you were serious about the matching thing."

"That's silly. Why wouldn't I be serious about that?"

"I don't know." she mumbles with a shrug.

"Are you gonna buckle up?" Harry asks, nudging his chin in the direction of her seatbelt. She scrambles, feeling embarrassed as she hoists the strap across her chest, clicking it in. The car gently buzzes to life and glides down the road and out of Mia's neighborhood, just as she realizes she's definitely never been in a vehicle this nice before.

"How was your day?" Harry questions from beside her. Her fingers are wrung together in an awkward position in her lap and she has to clear her throat before answering, tugging the material of her dress down to cover more of her thighs.

"It was actually kinda shitty," Mia admits with a bittersweet smile. "Woke up late and didn't really have time to eat too much and my lectures were boring. And I have this kind of big paper due in a few days that I'm stumped on, so that's that."

Harry wrinkles his eyebrows and she can't tell if it's because he's disappointed or about to reprimand her. She prepares herself for the former based on the age difference, assuming the worst from assumptions she's made.

"I told you we would work around your schedule. If you need to do homework tonight that's perfectly fine, I can have Reese turn around and drop you back off."

Mia's slightly surprised at his soft-spoken response and she relaxes her shoulders at it. Harry notices, but he doesn't say anything.

"It's okay. I still have three days... well two since I probably won't work on it tonight."

"What are you stuck on?" he asks, pressing his lips together. Mia glances down at them for just a moment, but she instantly notices their natural muted pink hue. It reminds her of their first date, when they were stained red from wine. "I obviously don't know much about social work, but sometimes it helps to talk things out."

Mia nods at that before shrugging her shoulders, "I think it's mainly just an environmental thing. I spend most of my days on campus so I just want to go home when classes are done, and my neighbors are loud and I get too distracted at home. I can manage it fine, but I usually need an impending deadline to pressure me to work."

"Mm, yeah, I've been there," Harry replies with a chuckle. "Well, if you need a change of scenery, my place is always available. I have an office and guest room and such, whatever suits you. Won't even bother you to play 20 questions."

She lets out a laugh and shakes her head. "I admit, I didn't mind that distraction."

"Ah, so I'm a distraction now?"

He has that cheeky grin on his face — the teasing one that makes her blush and her heart stutter — and she giggles, forcing herself to look away so he doesn't see the way her face warms.

Maybe tonight won't be so bad.

. . .

Harry likes having Mia on his arm. A lot.

Maybe a little too much, really, but he's blaming it on the two glasses of wine and the lack of food in his stomach. Like Mia, he'd had a busy day with minimal time to eat, let alone breathe, and he probably would've ditched this entire thing if she hadn't agreed to be his date.

He's not even that special of a guest here. He was a frequent donor to the art museums in the city, and he'd supplied the exhibition with a couple of thousand dollars to get it off the ground. He didn't do it for anything other than the fact that he had too much money and didn't know what to do with it, and his sister always asked to visit this particular museum every time she was in town.

Harry discovers that Mia is actually quite good at schmoozing and chatting with wealthy people. She plays the part of Harry's girlfriend well, and the sight makes his throat dry. She's sweet and kind to everyone they talk to, even if they bring up points that are painfully boring, and she wraps her hand around his as they meander around the room, picking at h'ordeuvres and refilling their glasses.

It almost feels natural.

Sometime around 10 pm, though, he can feel her posture slump slightly and yawns begin to escape her. He excuses them from the conversation he was just barely paying attention it and smoothly guides her with his hand at the small of her back.

"'s a matter?" she whispers, her eyes widening. "Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No, of course not. You're getting tired though, hm? I wanna make sure I get you home at a reasonable hour."

Mia blinks a few times, a look of confusion crossing over her face. "You said 'til 11 though, right?"

"There's no reason for us to stay any longer and you've already done so much by being here, Mi," Harry murmurs as he fires off a quick text to let Reese know they're ready to be picked up. "Lemme get you home, okay?"

She doesn't argue any more at that, and that's how he can tell she's genuinely exhausted. He smiles gently and shrugs his blazer off, then wraps it around her shoulders.

"It's gonna be cold out there, temperature was slated to drop a bit," he explains shortly, swallowing at the sight of her in his jacket. "Reese will be here any minute if you're ready to go, though."

Mia nods. As Harry turns on his heel to exit the building, she reaches out without thinking, intertwining their fingers together. He turns instantly, wanting to make sure that she was okay, but all he sees are wide eyes and a furious blush.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she scrambles, dropping his hand, "I... don't know why I did that, I'm sorry, I'm tired."

Harry smirks. "We can hold hands if you want, babe."

She scowls at his teasing tone but nevertheless reaches outward once more to grasp his hand in hers.

"If you make fun of me for this when I'm sober and not as sleepy, I'll kick you in the shins."

He lets out a loud laugh, "Wouldn't dream of it."

. . .

Harry doesn't hear from Mia for two days.

He tries to distract himself with work and the gym, but he's lying if he says he's not checking his phone every five minutes for a text from her. He wants to message her first, but it's been years since he's had... feelings, whatever they may be, for someone, and he doesn't want to overwhelm her. So for two days, he busies himself with going over reports, bringing work home and passing out on the couch with his laptop still open.

Finally, on Thursday night, Harry has Friends on TV while he scrolls mindlessly on Instagram. His phone suddenly alerts him of an incoming call, and his fingers itch at the sight of Mia's name. He doesn't even have it in him to wait 10 seconds before he picks up.

"Harry?" She sounds stressed as he rushes out his name before he's able to say hello.

"Mia?" He echoes her panicked tone, "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"My paper is due in five hours and I still have four pages to go and I— I don't know what to do, I'm freaking out, I'm so tired and I just— it's worth 70% of my grade and I'll fail the class if I don't—"

"Mi, breathe," Harry cuts her off, placing his elbows on his knees. "What do you need? Do you need to talk it out, read it out loud to me?"

It's silent for a moment and butterflies invade his stomach, wondering if he's pressed too hard. Maybe she just needed to vent.

"I was actually wondering if I could come over and work," Mia says softly. "It's fine if not, I'll be okay—"

"Yes." Harry replies, quick enough to make himself grimace. "Um, yes, of course, the offer still stands. I'll send Reese for you right now and I'll set you up wherever you want."

She breathes a sigh of relief into the receiver, mumbling out a series of "okay"s.

"Did you eat, darling?"

"N-no. I came straight home after work and I... just didn't have time to cook anything."

"Work?" Harry repeats, flashing back to their date two weeks ago, when he told her she could quit her job. "I told you I would supplement your income if you left."

"Well, um... you didn't exactly... pay for me for the event a few days ago and I just thought maybe our... arrangement, um, changed."

"Oh, sweetheart," Harry sighs, lifting his hand to his hair, pulling at the messy roots. "I'm so sorry, I thought... I assumed you would ask when you needed money. I've never done this with anyone else and I didn't even think."

She swallows thickly and pauses on packing her bag to bring to his house.

"Listen, let me order some food and when you get here, we'll work on your paper and I'll send you some money to make up for the other night, alright? We'll iron out the rest of the details, too. I don't want you to keep working yourself to the bone."

"Okay," Mia breathes into the receiver, and the muffled shuffling in the background resumes. "Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Harry. That sounds good."

"Of course. Reese is on his way, I'll see you soon."

"See you."

. . .

Mia wants to cry when Harry unlocks the door of his penthouse apartment.

She's so tired and burnt out and all she could focus on the drive over was whether or not her thesis was good and if she had enough points and data to reach the word count.

She wants to collapse the moment she steps inside, brushing past Harry with a small, forced smile, who is already in a pair of sweatpants, a worn tee-shirt, fuzzy socks and a pair of reading glasses.

The tears actually start when she glances over to the kitchen island to see a bowl of macaroni and cheese and a ginger ale.

"Eat," he murmurs as he reaches his arm out to take Mia's bag. She's stuck in her place though, eyes watering at the sight of her comfort meal in Harry's million dollar apartment. "Mi? You alright?"

She blinks the tears away and parts her lips, looking up at him with wide eyes. "You remembered."

Harry smiles gently and nods, pressing a hand to her upper back and guiding her to the dining room table. "Of course I did."

He shuffles down the hallway as Mia stuffs a few forkfuls of macaroni in her mouth. She doesn't realize how utterly starving she is until right now, and she has to admit that having some food in her system is helping soothe her anxiety.

Harry meanders back out as she's sipping on her ginger ale, "Okay, I set your stuff up in my office. Plugged your computer in, put your phone on do not disturb. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

"Wait," Mia jumps up, glass in hand. "Uh... I'm sure you worked all day and the last thing you want is to hang out while I write this paper, but would you... stick around, maybe hear some of my ideas out? I tend to get a little loopy when I'm stressed."

A dimpled grin wiggles its way onto Harry's face.

"I'd love to, Mia."

. . .

"Harry? Can you read this and tell me if it makes sense?"

It's been two hours of quiet typing, discussing Mia's thesis, and Harry playing mindless games on his phone until she asks him to go over something with her. He's exhausted — they both are, but she only has an hour before the deadline and they have no choice but to keep trucking on.

She hands him her laptop and he peeks through his glasses, reading the highlighted paragraph. It's something about community-based learning opportunities connecting to abuse victims, and while the only relevant knowledge he has is from a freshman psychology course, Mia is knowledgeable and great at what she does. She breaks down concepts in a way that's easy to understand and listening to her talk about something she's passionate about makes his heart swell with joy.

"Looks great, Mi," he murmurs as he passes her laptop back, "How much more do you have left?"

"That was actually it." She says with a bright smile despite her tired eyes. "I can submit it now as long as all that sounds good."

Harry grins and rises from the en-suite couch, stretching his arms out. Mia can't help but notice the sliver of his torso revealed as he bends back slightly and she swallows, refocusing back to the screen.

"D'you wanna stay over, darling? It's already 3 and I bought a six-pack of ginger ale that I won't drink."

Mia's heart tightens as she clicks 'submit', shutting her laptop and looking up at him.

"Are you sure that's alright? You've done so much for me already, I don't wanna be a bother."

"Not a bother," Harry mumbles, nodding his head in the direction of the hall, "Also, send me your Venmo so I can send some money over, hm?"

"Harry— wait, about that," she scrambles up from the desk, wringing her hands together behind her back as she steps towards him, "I don't want you to pay me for that night."

"What?"

"I don't know if this is... presumptuous of me, but I had a really nice time being your date. And I don't want you to pay me for that time."

"Oh," Harry mutters, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "You need money though, don't you?"

"Well, I'm not at your status but that's not why I'm here. Or why I went with you the other night."

"What?"

Mia swallows and takes a deep breath. "I like hanging around you, Harry. I like who you are. I don't want this to be a financial exchange if... if you want the same thing."

"Really?" Harry asks, blinking owlishly at the girl, "You... you don't want me for my money?"

She shakes her head. "No. I don't."

"I like you," he blurts out, making a smile appear on her lips. "I don't want that arrangement either."

Her shoulders relax and her smile turns into a grin. He steps closer to her and tentatively reaches out to press a hand to her hip, waiting to see if she'll reject his touch.

"Can I kiss you?" Harry asks softly, glancing down at her mouth. "I've been dying to since that first night."

Mia nods quickly, breathing out an affirmative answer. He leans forward and smears their lips together, nearly moaning out in relief from the feeling of closeness he'd been dying for. She stands on her tippy-toes and wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her chest up against his. It's warm and wet and so nice, but he forces himself to break away, leaning her forehead against his.

"That was nice." she murmurs, little puffs of air leaving her mouth. He nods eagerly and squeezes her hip.

"Perfect," he whispers. "Just... don't wanna rush things."

Mia raises an eyebrow, glancing down when she realizes Harry's hard length against her thigh. He grimaces in embarrassment — typically he's able to control himself far better, not getting a boner from a two minute kiss, but he's been dreaming about finally getting to kiss her.

"Oh," she sighs, and Harry swears he notices a slight glint in her eyes when she glances up at him. "You feel.. big."

He breathes out a chuckle, "Don't stroke my ego, sweetheart, can only take so much tonight."

"Can I... am I allowed to touch?" Mia questions, her voice soft and peeked with curious. Her eyelashes flutter as she peeps up at him, biting down on her bottom lip.

"Only if you want to. Don't feel pressured to do anything, it'll go away on its own."

Harry's honest in his answer, not wanting her to feel obligated by any means, but he's lying if he says he isn't thrilled when she slowly sinks to her knees, palming at his crotch on her way down.

"Fuck," he mutters, swallowing harshly at her sweet doe eyes batting up at him.

"When's the last time someone took care of you?" she murmurs as she gently tugs his sweatpants down, leaving him in a navy blue pair of briefs. His cock is nearly bursting out of them and she licks her lips at the visual, her mouth parting slightly.

"Doesn't matter," Harry replies in a strained voice. She pulls his underwear down to reveal his painfully hard cock, slapping up against his lower stomach with a bubble of pre-cum at the tip. "Wanna take care of you, darling."

Mia giggles at that and begins to pepper kisses along the tops of his thighs. Her fingertips wiggle between his legs, just below his balls, encouraging him to part them so she can sponge kisses along the skin there.

"Can I touch, please?" she asks, looking back up at him. He nods and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, groaning when her hand wraps around the base, squeezing lightly. "I was right. Your cock is big and pretty."

"You're gonna make me cum just from that dirty mouth." Harry mutters, lulling his head to the side as she slowly pumps his length. She moves her mouth to hover over his length and spits, letting saliva dribble from her mouth onto his skin. The mix of her spit and his pre-cum are enough lubrication to help her jerk him at a steady pace, and she smiles when she hears his choppy breathing from above.

Mia mouths over the tip of his cock and sticks her tongue out, licking up the leaking fluid. "Mm, you taste good," she mumbles, almost as if Harry wasn't meant to hear her, "I want you to fuck my face and cum down my throat, please."

He chokes at her casual tone and reaches down to thread his fingers through her hair. "Are you sure, baby? 'M perfectly content with just watching you on your knees like this."

With her cheek pressed against his thigh, she smiles brightly at the use of the pet name, still nodding her head at his question.

"Mhm. I usually don't like deep-throating but your cock is really nice... wanna taste you and feel you burst in my mouth."

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me."

She lets out a giggle as Harry slowly guides his cock into her mouth. She takes him with ease, relaxing her throat until she's taken most of him. He inhales sharply through his nose as she takes initiative and begins bobbing up and down, drool starting to leak from the sides of her mouth. He groans as he watches her, growing comfortable when he sees how eager she is, and moves his hips in time with her movements until her nose is flush against his pelvis.

"Fuck, Mia," Harry moans when she gags around his tip. Mascara-stained tears flow from her eyes and down her cheeks, but she doesn't give an inkling a discomfort, only doubling down on her efforts with a muffled whimper.

She releases for a moment and he's prepared to ask if he's being too rough as she wipes spit from her chin, "You can go harder, I'm fine. Also, is it alright if I call you daddy?"

"Jesus Christ," Harry guffaws, allowing his head to duck back fully now, "Yeah, sweetheart, choke yourself on daddy's cock."

Mia grins and squeezes her thighs, instantly diving back in. Harry bucks his hips, fucking her throat deeper and faster as his orgasm quickly unravels in his body. Lightning zips throughout him, his groans quickly getting louder every time she gags around his length.

"I'm gonna cum," Harry warns, the familiar feeling building. He looks down at her and watches her greedily take him, and that's all he needs before he's exploding. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, fuck—"

He's filling up her mouth with rapid ropes of warm cum and she moans at his taste, letting him empty his balls and continue using her throat. He breathes harshly as his peak slowly ends and she slides off of his sensitive cock, cum spilling out the corners of her mouth.

Without a word, he pulls her up and surges forward, pressing their lips together. She squeaks in surprise but eagerly kisses him back, their tongues swapping the fluid he just emptied into her mouth. They part with harsh breaths, Mia clutching his shirt with tight fists.

"Was that okay?" she asks as he wipes the remaining mix of spit and cum from her lip.

He smirks and shakes his head, "You're silly for even asking that. It was amazing."

"Mm, good."

"C'mon, I'm not letting you go home at this hour. You can stay in the guest room if you don't want to sleep with me."

"I just swallowed your cum, I think you owe me a cuddle, Styles."

He lets out a loud laugh and tugs at her hand, out in the direction of the hallway and to his bedroom, "Whatever you want, darling."

. . .

The next morning, Mia wakes up in a huge, comfy mattress, surrounded by luxurious tufts of white duvet.

For a minute, she forgets where she is, until she's reminded of the night before. She blushes at the overwhelming happiness that floods her body, remembering the way Harry held her all night and pressed kisses to her cheeks and forehead every time he woke up.

When she opens her eyes, she's expecting to see him, but she's met with an empty mattress. She sits up with furrowed brows until she zeroes in on a folded note on his pillow with her name and a heart next to it.

Smiling gently, she opens it.

Morning, sweetheart. Got called into the office early and you looked too sweet to wake up. Make yourself at home, feel free to invade my closet or fridge.

Leaving you my credit card to treat yourself to something nice, too — just because we're not in this arrangement anymore doesn't mean I won't take care of you financially.

xx daddy

Mia squeals and falls back against the bed.

704 notes · View notes

annie115 · 23 days

Text

All of me for you (CL16)

Summary: They came from two completely different worlds, but their hearts spoke the same language.

A/n: This is probably the darkest shit I´ve ever written, but don´t worry it ends well :) It´s also sooooo long sorry for that but I really enjoyed writing it!! Before you start reading, please read the warnings!!! If you feel uncomfortable with any of those, please don’t read.

Let me know what you think!

Also, Charlotte´s kind of a bitch here so don’t forget this is completely fictional!!! Also English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes

TW: 18+, mentions of smut, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of drug abuse (not reader), mentions of death (Charles dad), using of y/n

Word count: 7,700

Masterlist

She´s been working for Ferrari since the start of the season. It was her one shot, her one opportunity to get out of the life her parents had given to her.

She grew up in one of the most dangerous districts of Frankfurt, Germany. A place where nobody had a future, a place where no child had even the hope of dreaming for a better life. Her mother got pregnant from one of her customers, one who couldn’t care less about the twins she gave birth to. Her mother could’ve never afforded any kind of birth control, so she had to trust in condoms. It usually worked, besides this one time. As you know, one time can be enough.

She gave birth to a boy and a girl, both as pretty as could be. Big, green eyes and black hair, faces with visible bone structures. They became inseparable, not moving from each other’s sides. She was always the tough one, the one who made her name count on the streets she grew up on. She was just a girl, but nobody dared to mess up with her. She had everything under control, worked two jobs to be able to afford at least food and the rent for the apartment they shared with their mother. Well, that was when she grew older. Her childhood was nothing to speak of. No child should grow up on the street, begging for money or food. No mother should ask her five year old daughter to go to the bank district, just to ask some business men for money. But we won´t speak of that.

Every child in Germany had to go school, so she and her brother did as well. They got in trouble regularly but managed to graduate somehow after the tenth grade. She was smart, always good in speaking different languages. German, English and Italian were easy for her. Her brother spoke a bit of English, mostly German.

When she turned 15, she got her first job. Waiting in a restaurant wasn’t the best job for a teenage girl, but she needed the money and the tips were amazing. It was the first time in her life where she managed to have enough money, she was even able to afford some new clothes and make up.

When she turned 16, her brother made new friends. She immediately knew that they weren’t good for him, but he wouldn’t listen. It started with weed, smoked in the dark corners of the ghetto. It continued with pills, mushrooms, sometimes acid, until he tried heroin for the first time. Heroin is never a one time thing. It escalated quickly and before he was able to steal y/n´s money, she rather gave it to him. She tried to get him away from the drugs, she really did. Methadone therapy, real therapy, nothing helped because he simply couldn’t get out of his friends group. He relapsed every time. He got weaker from time to time, the drugs destroying his mind and his body. She got used to buy the drugs for him, to keep them for him and to give them to him when he wasn’t in the state to do it. It quickly turned out that one job could never be enough to cover the costs of her brother´s drug abuse, the rent and food, so she got a second job. Her boss in the little Italian restaurant she used to work in, offered her to work in his second location also, just on the weekends. So she did. From Monday to Friday, she would work in the restaurant, Saturday and Sunday were reserved for her working at the bar.

Life seemed to get a little better when she met him, Oliver. Her first real boyfriend. He was a little bit older than her, black hair, beautiful ice-blue eyes. Italian. She met him at work, he made her fall in love quickly. He promised her the stars from the sky, walked her home, bought her presents, was the most caring boyfriend you could imagine. That was until he wanted more. Sex was always a difficult topic for y/n, simply because of her mother. Y/n never wanted to be used just for sex, she wanted it to be with somebody who truly loved her. Something inside of her told her, that Oliver wasn’t the right guy. So she declined, every time he asked or made a move. But he was manipulative, managed to get her to do it. He invited her to his place, roses and candles everywhere and she started to think that it would be good. That it would be the way she always imagined it to be. He started gently. Kissing her, caressing her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Their first time was good, y/n was glad that she did it and that he was so gentle. The second time, was different. He wanted to be more in charge, having control over her body. She wasn’t a big fan of this, but didn’t protest. He was on top of her, buried deep inside of her when he lit a cigarette. She frowned, asking him not to smoke while they were having sex. He scoffed, telling her to shut up which she didn’t do. “You want me to put it out?” he asked with a dirty grin and she nodded. So he put it out.

The marks will never leave the spot just below her hip. They don’t hurt anymore, it´s too long ago, but they will always be there, remind her of him. She never told anybody, broke up with Oliver and was surprised when he didn´t have anything against it. Her brother noticed that something had changed, sometimes having clear moments when he was in between injections. It was when she got out the shower, her pyjama pants too low on her waist when he saw the marks for the first time. Y/n didn’t want to know what he did to Oliver, the only thing she knew was that she didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

So she grew older, living in the same apartment as before with her brother and her mother, who they barely saw at all. She was working all night and sleeping all day, drinking in the meantime. Everybody knew her name in the ghetto, everybody knew who her brother was and she was somewhat in charge. She hated this life, but she loved her brother and would’ve done anything to protect him, as far as she could.

When she turned 21, her boss, the owner of the Italian restaurant, offered her a job. One of his friends was the head chef of the Scuderia Ferrari Hospitality and they were looking for a new waitress on the trackside. Y/n couldn’t believe it. This was her chance. But still, she had to say no. She couldn’t leave her brother alone, she was all he had left. But her brother disagreed. The second she told him about the job offer, he did everything to convince her to take the job. Luckily, he had found two guys in the city who he could trust, making it easier for y/n to leave. This was her opportunity for a better life and she had to take it.

So here she was. Working all over the world, for the best racing team ever. She made friends within her first week at work and she especially grew closer to some of the drivers, due to their age. Y/n was one of the younger workers on the team and the drivers liked to be with her. She was funny, always had an open ear for everybody and seemed to have everything under control, all the time. Everybody noticed that she was extraordinary pretty, but all of them agreed on one thing: they couldn’t quite get what it was about her. She was an open book when it came to her opinions and thoughts but she would never share personal experiences. Hell, nobody knew exactly where she came from, which y/n enjoyed a lot. She could be somebody in the world of Formula One, nobody knew her story and her flaws, it was a brand new start for her and she wouldn’t waste it. One driver had his eyes on her, specifically. Charles Leclerc, driver for Scuderia Ferrari.

Y/n knew how beautiful the driver was, even before she started to work for the team. When she got to know him, she noticed that he was also humble, funny, charming and his heart was made of gold. Unfortunately, he had a girlfriend. A beautiful girlfriend, who wasn’t very fond of the idea of Charles and y/n being friends. But they couldn’t help it. The connection the two of them had grew deep and none of them was able to understand why. They laughed together, over the most basic things in the world. They could always count on each other and they would stick together through thick and thin. They soon started to call each other best friends. Charles promised Charlotte, his girlfriend, that nothing has ever happened between him and y/n, and he said the truth. Y/n would never start something with a guy who´s taken, Charles could never cheat on his girlfriend, even when sometimes, his heart pounded for someone else..

It was Sunday, race day, almost 10pm. The race was long over, nobody being left in the paddock but a few workers. Charles was still there also, sitting in the big red motorhome. “Charlotte, please I need to talk to someone, I feel like a loser right now”, he said with a trembling voice, then sighed. “No, I understand. Have fun with your girls, bye”, he said before he hung up. He was sitting on the big red couch, letting the tears fall down on his face when he let out his emotions. This day has been a day to forget. He DNF´d after 6 laps in the race. It wasn’t his fault, just engine failure. Still, he needed to win this race. For him. He sobbed, not noticing that someone entered the room.

Y/n wanted to lock up all the rooms before going back to the hotel, when she noticed light coming from one of the rooms. She went in, to see her best friend sitting on the couch, crying. “Charlie”, she gasped and headed over to him, wrapping her arms around his body to pull him close. “Hey, what´s going on?” Of course she knew that he dnf´d, but he usually wouldn’t cry because of that. “I wanted to make him proud”, Charles sobbed, pressing his head against her shoulder. “Shh”, y/n cooed, pressing a kiss on his head. “He died five years ago from today and what did I earn since then? Nothing”, he rambled and y/n put his face in her hands to force him to look at her. “Charles, I want you to listen to me now”, she started. “Your father is the proudest man ever. You´ve achieved so much, driving for Ferrari, winning for Ferrari. Maybe not today, but you did win and you will continue winning. And it´s not only about your achievements in racing, is it? You are the most beautiful human being I have ever met. Your father can be so, so proud of who you´ve become.” She wiped a tear from his face, happy that no tears followed, before she went on. “I don’t know where your father is right now, but he and Jules are watching you every second, and they will tell anybody what a beautiful man you are, I know it”, she said and smiled at him, caressing his cheek with her thumb. “Do you really think so?” he asked and she nodded quickly. “I´ve never been more sure about anything”, she answered and he leaned his head against hers. “Let´s get out of here, have you eaten?” she asked and he shook his head. She stood up and reached out her hand for him to grab it. „Pizza and Harry Potter?“ she asked and his eyes glowed when he nodded.

„Why is it that your hotel rooms are always way more comfortable than mine?“ Charles asked and finished his last piece of pizza. „I actually have no idea what you mean. You always get the suites which are way nicer than my tiny rooms“, y/n answered and chuckled. „Mhm, I guess it’s just because of your company then“, he said and turned to look at her.

They were laying on their stomachs, head facing the TV on the wall. She laughed and didn’t look at him, knowing that she would lose herself in his blue-green eyes. She had this feelings for him for quite a while now, butterflies flying around in her stomach whenever he was around, a deep desire to explore his lips with hers whenever he opened his mouth. But she couldn’t. Not because he didn’t return her feelings, actually she was pretty sure that he felt the same way. But he had a girlfriend. She didn’t know why he didn’t break up with her but it was for the best. She wasn’t the right girl for him. Charlotte was. She grew up in a health family, never had to face hunger or drug problems. Ferrari‘s golden boy and some broke ass waitress from the ghetto? No way this would work out. She got pulled out of her thoughts when he talked again.

„Thank you, y/n“, he whispered and she smiled. „Anytime, Charlie“, she returned and noticed that he didn’t stop looking at her. „Why is it that you‘re always there for me while my girlfriend is out drinking with her friends?“ he asked and y/n sighed. She didn’t have an answer. She didn’t understand Charlotte, didn’t like her much also. Still, she wasn’t the one to talk bad about one’s girlfriend. „I don’t know Charles, but I’ll try to always be there, I promise“, she answered and tried to focus on the movie again. Not for long, though. He placed two fingers on her cheek and turned her face so she would look at him. Their eyes locked immediately and green met blue. For a second her eyes flickered to his lips, who were slightly parted. She licked over her own, unconsciously, but it was enough for him to go crazy. He leaned forward, his lips striping hers softly. Almost cautiously, as if she could disappear any second. Her lips started moving against his, but they knew it was wrong. They pulled back, already out of breath. „I should go“, Charles stated without opening his eyes, y/n just nodded.

They didn’t talk about it, ever, but Charlotte seemed to notice that something has changed in y/n´s and Charles relationship. They were still hanging out often, but not as much as before. At first she was happy, thinking that maybe they had a fight and weren’t friends anymore but she quickly realized that it was something else. She has never liked y/n, never liked how she always managed to get everyone’s attention. She didn’t know that this was the last thing y/n wanted. Charlotte got crazy over how less she knew about that girl who slowly stole her boyfriend, she didn’t know that Charles basically didn’t know anything, either.

“I´m just wondering why you spend so much of your time with somebody you barely know!” she yelled, hands over her head while Charles was standing in front of the mirror, styling his hair. “Charlotte, I know y/n better than anybody. She´s always there for me and I just enjoy being around her, as a friend.” Charlotte scoffed. “Always there for you. Are you still mad at me because I wasn’t there the other night? You knew that I was in Monaco with friends!” He sighed and turned to her, satisfied with his hair. “I had one of the worst days and you weren’t there. I don’t blame you for not being by my side, I blame you because you couldn’t even listen to me on the phone. We talked about that a hundred times now, I´m tired of discussing it again”, he stated. “Now, come on. The others are probably waiting already”, he said and the two of them made their way to the hotel lobby to meet the others before they had dinner together.

Charlotte was strolling through the garage during the first practice session, when the head hospitality coordinator headed towards her. “Charlotte! You´re a friend of y/n, aren’t you?” she asked and Charlotte nodded slowly, not sure what to answer to that. She didn’t have much time to think about it, since the woman in front of her just continued speaking. “Great! Listen, I really need y/n to sign those papers for her contract renewal, but I can´t find her anywhere and I really have to be somewhere! Could you give those to her? I can trust you with that right?” she asked, again not leaving her enough time to answer. She handed her a big envelope and rushed away. Charlotte frowned, but realized what she held in her hands. If this was y/n´s contract renewal, everything was inside right? Where she came from, maybe even family situations, what she did before, everything. She had to hide a mischievous grin before she walked away to Charles motorhome, knowing that she would be unbothered for at least half an hour.

She didn’t find out everything, but everything she needed to know. After searching her address on the internet she found out that y/n came from one of the worst areas in Germany. She had to put in an emergency contact and chose her mother, because who else could she have chose instead? Charlotte found out where her mother worked and also that y/n had contact with the police quite a few times. Nothing serious, since Ferrari would’ve never hired her otherwise, but serious enough so that y/n wouldn’t want anybody to find out. She also googled y/n´s full name and found out that she has a twin brother, who was involved in various drug crimes in the past few years. She found enough to make sure that y/n wouldn’t be a problem between her and Charles anymore.

“Y/n, do you have a moment?” Charlotte asked while y/n was pouring herself some coffee, since she was on her break. “Sure”, she mumbled and frowned not knowing what Charlotte possibly wanted from her. “Your boss wanted me to give you these”, Charlotte said and handed her the envelope. “Oh, thank you”, she said and frowned again. Before she could say anything, Charlotte headed away.

It was the evening after the race when everything escalated. Charles and Charlotte, Carlos and Rebecca, Max and Kelly and y/n were sitting in Max´s suite, just having some chats and drinks. They were talking about nothing really, when Charlotte turned the attention to y/n. “Oh my god, y/n I wanted to ask you how´s your brother?” Y/n froze and looked at her. “What? Why what happened to your brother?” Charles asked. He knew that you had a brother but nothing more. Without stopping to look at Charlotte, y/n answered. “Nothing important, really. He´s better”, she stated knowing that Charlotte wouldn’t stop now. “Really? Did he get therapy or something? I couldn’t imagine having a junkie as a brother, this must be so hard. Also that you had to deal with it for so many years and even had trouble with the police.. you´re very strong”. Her words dripped from sarcasm and y/n had to focus not to lose control. Of course she read everything that was in the envelope. She should’ve known. “Wait what´s going on? Charlotte why do you know all these things?” Charles asked. “Charlotte, stop. Now”, y/n said with a tone that gave everybody goosebumps. Charlotte swallowed, knowing that she didn’t want to mess with y/n, but she had a plan and she had to stick to it. “What do you mean? I thought she told you everything about her. Also about her mother and all that”, she continued and y/n pinched her thigh, hoping that this was all a bad dream.

She couldn’t look at Charles, knowing that she would see the betrayal in his eyes. Not only did she not say anything to him about her family, she lied to him. She told him that her mother was working in a grocery store and her brother was studying at the university to become a teacher. She told him that her dad was working in the bank district of Frankfurt, which may have been true, she didn’t know. “Y/n?” Charles asked but y/n looked at Charlotte. “I think couldn’t live with the fact that my mother was a prostitute”, she said as if she didn’t destroy y/n´s life. Nobody said a word, the whole situation extremely uncomfortable for everybody around. Charles stared at y/n, waiting for her to look at him to tell him that it wasn’t true. That she didn’t lie to him all this time.

She couldn’t. She stood up, grabbed her phone and left the room. She never had problems with conflicts, but she couldn’t look Charles in his beautiful blue eyes right now. She made her way to her room, tears blurring her vision. She didn’t know why she wanted to cry. Out of anger? Out of sadness? Probably everything at once. She knew that this was it. Even if Charlotte hasn’t told her boss everything she knew, even if she wasn’t fired, how could she ever talk to one of the guys again? Charles would never forgive her, she knew that. He hated nothing more than lying, he told her that within the first week after they´ve met. Also, Charlotte would tell anybody. If she stayed, everybody would know her situation by the end of next week. Her reputation would have a bad influence on Ferrari, and they would fire her eventually.

She grabbed her suitcase and threw everything in, not caring about any kind of organization. A heavy knock on her door stopped her from continuing. She wiped the tears from her face as best as she could before she opened the door. Charles stormed in, furious. “I can´t believe she would say things like that? She´s so fucking jealous that she started to spread lies and rumours about you, who does she think she is?!” he yelled but stopped and frowned when he saw the suitcase. “What are you doing?” he whispered and looked at her. “Leaving”, she stated and he widened his eyes. “Why would you leave? I break up with her y/n, I swear. How could I be with someone who´s capable of doing such things?” he asked and y/n finally looked at him, laying all of her honesty in her eyes. She didn’t have to say anything. Charles parted his lips. “It´s true”, he whispered. “She didn’t lie”, he stated and y/n looked down. “She didn’t lie, but you did”, he said and suddenly his eyes weren’t shining anymore. “You lied to me, all this time”, he repeated and y/n swallowed hard before the tears started to stain her face again. “Charles, I couldn’t tell you. I just wanted a fresh start, I-“ “Don´t. You lied to me. I don’t care why.” “Charles-“ “Goodbye, y/n. If that´s even your real name”, he said and stormed out, leaving y/n sobbing and crying on the floor.

Charles didn’t speak to Charlotte before he followed y/n. She went back to their shared room in the meantime, satisfied with how it all worked out. Her happiness lasted for about ten minutes, until Charles came back. He didn’t say anything when he came in, just grabbing Charlotte´s bag. “Charles- what are you doing?” she asked with wide eyes. “You´ll leave. I don´t want you here”, he said and threw some of her stuff inside her bag. “Excuse me? Stop it! You can´t just throw me out where am I supposed to go?” she yelled. “I don’t fucking care. Get a room and let them put it on my credit card I don’t care. Just get out of my sight”, he spat and she scoffed. “What did she tell you, huh? Did she tell you that I lied? Believe me Charles-“ “She didn’t tell me that you lied. I know that you said the truth. But what kind of person does that? In front of so many other people? You exposed her to her friends instead of just talking to me in private.” Charlotte scoffed again. “She lied to you and still managed to make me the bad guy?” “No. You´re both bad. I don’t want to see any of you, so get out of my fucking room!” he yelled and she startled, grabbing her bad which was know almost completely packed. “We´re over, if that wasn’t clear”, he said before he slammed the door shut behind her.

It didn’t take long for y/n to fall into old patterns. Working in the little Italian restaurant, buying drugs for her brother who almost didn’t notice that she was back, saving her drunk mother from sleeping next to the toilet in the bathroom. It almost felt like her time at Ferrari was nothing but a fever dream. Lando texted her, sometimes, asking her if she needed anything. She barely replied. She appreciated it for sure, but it was better for anybody if she stayed out of their business. She decided, or persuaded herself, that it was better like this. She wasn’t the right person to be with Charles and she would’ve never been. Still, she missed him, every second of the day. She kept their little kiss in her heart, nobody could take it away from her. She realized how much she loved him, not only as her best friend. But still, it was better this way.

Charles didn’t think so. He was angry, furious even for a few days. But then it hit him like a train. How much he missed her, how much she had changed his mood every day, what big of an impact she had on his mood. Since she was gone, his laughs were less frequent. Suddenly he didn’t know who he could talk to, didn’t know who to turn to after a bad qualifying, a bad race or simply after a bad day. He missed her stupid jokes, the way she wore her hair in a braided ponytail, the way she never missed to look stunning and mysterious. Now he knew what was so mysterious about her. He missed how she gave him a feeling of safety, even if he didn’t need it. He missed how she fell asleep sometimes when they had a movie night, the ultimate proof for him for how much she trusted him. However, he tried to ignore his feelings. She lied to him and obviously had way bigger issues than he could’ve ever known. Charles had to hold back his tears when the hospitality coordinator asked him what happened to y/n and he had to explain that she left. He was angry at y/n for bringing him in situations like that. But fuck, as soon as he was alone in his hotel room he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He had to see her again, even if it was just for one time. He wanted to tell her how much she hurt him, he wanted to kiss her goodbye and beg her to come with him- what? No, that wasn’t what he wanted. He hated her, right? Didn’t miss her. At. All.

He dialled her number multiple times, never had the guts to actually call her.

In September he had to go to Germany for a karting event, at Hockenheim Ring. The track was about an hour away from Frankfurt and Charles heart beat faster just by the thought of being so close to her. What would his heart do if they were standing in front of each other? Well, he was about to find out because without wasting a second thought about it, he rented an old Volkswagen and made his way to Frankfurt. He had no idea what her address was, but he figured that he could just ask for the ghetto, right? Worst case would be that he would have to actually call her. The reason he rented a car like this was that he didn’t need fans or paparazzi to follow him. Whatever place he was heading to, it wasn’t a place for him to be. It also wasn’t a place for y/n to be.

He reached the city centre of Frankfurt and opened his phone to google where this area was located. He only had to type in “Frankfurt Ghetto” and it came up immediately. He switched to Google Maps and followed the GPS until he noticed that the landscape changed. Instead of modern buildings and people wearing business clothes, this place was full of big, old, ugly towers. Garbage cans and bags were laying everywhere, barely any plants or trees to see. People in sweatpants and dirty clothes were standing in every corner, watching him as he drove by. Charles made sure that his car was locked from the inside. He swallowed when he passed a big building with neon lights, knowing what was inside. He was wondering if that was the place where her mother worked. He swallowed and tried to stay calm. Suddenly, he couldn’t go any further. He was standing in front of two big building with parking lots on his left side. The only way was to the left or back to where he came from. He decided to stay in the car for a while and looked around. A few people were around, without paying attention to him luckily. A young man was sitting on the stairs of one building, fidgeting with his leather bracelets. Suddenly, the man looked up and Charles gasped. He looked like her. Same face, same hair, same bone structure. He was very thin, as if the wind could blew him over and he was wearing black shorts and a ripped black t shirt with a lot of stains.

Charles breathed out heavily and got out of the car. He knew that it was insane what he was doing. He knew that this guy was an addict, what if he was dangerous? Maybe he would rob him. But he was probably his only chance to find her.

He took a few steps towards the man who already looked at him. He didn’t stand up when Charles stood in front of him. “I know who you are”, he stated and Charles tried to control his breath. “You´re the driver y/n likes so much”, he said and Charles heart skipped a beat. “You´re her brother, right?” he dared to ask and the man nodded. Unexpectedly, he held out his hand. “Nico”, he said and Charles was unsure what to do. Eventually, he took his hand and shook it for a second before taken it back. “Charles”, he answered and sat down next to him. “What are you doing here?” Nico asked and Charles kicked a little pebble stone away from the stairs. “I wanted to see her. I miss her”, he answered truthfully. “She thinks you hate her”, Nico said and a painful ache went through Charles body. “I could never hate her”, he whispered. “Me neither. She´s an angel”, Nico said and Charles gave him a light smile. “Are you going to take her with you?” Nico asked and Charles shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know if she wants to come back.” “Of course she does. Even if she says she doesn’t. Since she came back she didn’t speak much, but when she did than it was only about you”, Nico said.

Charles wondered how much he could give on his words. Was he on drugs right now? Probably. If not, he wouldn’t be able to speak normal like this, right? Or was he? Charles didn’t know, he never had contact with a drug addict. “She has to go with you. She can´t stay here. She´s too good for this place”, Nico said and his voice started to slur a little. Charles frowned, realizing that he should end this conversation. “Nico, do you know where y/n is?” he asked. “She should be here soon, she had to work today”, he answered and looked at the stairs. “I should go”, he said and stood up immediately. Charles looked up to him. “Please don’t hurt my sister. She´s everything I have. I wouldn’t want her to go, but she has to. Don’t let her stay here”, he whispered and run away. Charles frowned and wondered what kind of guy Nico would be today, if he had never started taking drugs.

Y/n had already seen him when Charles turned his head. She was only a few metres away from him, staring at him as if he was a ghost. Charles stood up, quickly and wiped the dust off his pants. Neither of them said a word, before he was standing right in front of her. All the anger, all the hate was blown away as he saw her. Her long, black hair was falling over her shoulders. She was wearing high waisted jeans, as always, and a short white top. Her white sneakers were dirty. She looked beautiful. “Am I dreaming?” she whispered and Charles shook his head. “You still owe me an explanation”, he said and she clenched her jaw a little. “Not here”, she stated.

Only fifteen minutes later they were sitting around a small table in a café. Y/n didn’t know what to say, although she knew what he wanted to hear. “I talked to your brother”, Charles said and she looked at him. “Don´t worry. It was a nice conversation, actually.” “What did he say to you?” she asked and played with the handle of her cup of tea. “That I should take you with me again, because you miss me”, Charles said and couldn’t hide a little smirk. A smile flitted across her lips. “I thought you´d hate me”, she whispered and looked back at the table. “I tried”. “Couldn’t”, he added. “Y/n, I want to hear the truth from you. Everything.” And y/n told him everything.

From her childhood, her mother, her unknown father. She told him about her time at school and how Nico got in contact with drugs. How she always had to be responsible for her family. She told him about her ex-boyfriend who hurt her so much, she didn’t tell him what he did in detail. Maybe that was something for another time.

She told him about the nights she had to stay in jail, because she got caught buying drugs for her brother and how she managed to change the story a little for Ferrari, so that she would still get the job.

She told him about her jobs and how happy she was when she got the job at Ferrari. She told him that she was so happy when she met him that she didn’t want to ruin anything by telling him the truth. She told him how happy she was that she could finally start over. Nobody knew about her past or about her brother and nobody feared her the way they do in the ghetto.

“I know that I lied to you. I regret it now, knowing that I could’ve trust you with it. But I was so scared, Charles. I never had someone like you in my life, I couldn’t risk losing you. I know that I was selfish, and I can´t ask for you to forgive me. But I want you to know that I´m sorry.” Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat after telling him everything. She got nervous when he didn’t answer right away. “I do forgive you, y/n”, he whispered and she finally looked at him again. “Yes you hurt me, yes you lied to me but now I understand why you did all these things. I think I wouldn’t have acted differently in your situation. Of course I could never imagine being in your situation, but I forgive you”, he said and y/n couldn’t stop the sob from leaving her mouth. Tears were running down her face and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, afraid that this was all a dream and he would disappear again.

After a few minutes, she tried to calm down and let go of him. “I should go back”, she said. “Have to look after my brother”. Charles nodded and grabbed his keys before he drove them back to her place. The sun already started to set and Charles knew that he had to convince her soon. He wanted her to come with him and he wouldn’t leave her again. Not here. She got out of the car and headed towards her brother, who was sitting on the stairs again. “Everything alright?” she asked and Nico nodded, looking at Charles who stood behind her. “I will go upstairs. Leave you two alone.” Before he left he whispered something in y/n´s ear, so that Charles couldn’t hear.

Y/n turned to Charles. “Where are you staying?” she asked and he shrugged his shoulders. “I´ll get a hotel in the city. You can choose”. Y/n frowned. “Why would I choose?” “Because you´re coming with me. You didn’t think I´ll leave you here, right?”

She took a step towards him. “Charlie, you have no idea how glad I am that you forgave me. But what I did is unacceptable. I just left, without saying a word. Ferrari will never give me my job back. I hate it, I really do, but this is where I belong. I messed up everything and I deserve to be here”. “No you don’t. And you didn’t mess up anything. Yes, you should’ve said the truth from the beginning, but you did a fantastic job at Ferrari. And the only thing you lied about was where you´re coming from. You´re personality, your humour and your whole being was real. Charlotte was the one who messed it up. You´re right, maybe Ferrari won´t let you work for them but you could at least apologize and ask, right? And if they don’t take you, maybe another team will. Or I´ll hire you as my assistant or something.” He took another step towards her so that their noses almost touched. “I´ll do anything. Just come with me.” Y/n sighed. “I´m not leaving without you, y/n”, he whispered and she closed her eyes for a second. She cupped his face with her hands and pulled him into a kiss. Their lips touched for a few seconds, before she let go of him. She loved him. She loved him so much that it hurt. But was he really so foolish to love her back?

“I know that you worry about your brother, but he told me that-“ “I´m coming with you, Charles”, she interrupted him. “He just told me that he will never talk to me again if I wouldn’t go with you”.

After packing her things and saying goodbye to her brother, y/n and Charles were looking for a hotel. After checking in, y/n immediately took a shower as long as possible. She washed her hair, her body and shaved, she felt like a new human being afterwards. She changed into a short pyjama, shorts high enough to cover the marks on her hip. They didn’t even talk about sharing a bed, they just knew that they wouldn’t leave each other´s sides.

They were laying next to each other, the room was completely dark but the moon managed to bring in some light through the curtains. Y/n was snuggled at Charles side, listening to the sound of his beating heart. “Y/n?” Charles asked. There was one question he always wanted to ask her. He wanted to ask her when she didn’t want to show herself in a bathing suit at the hotel´s pool in Spain. The second time was when she screamed at him to leave the room because she wanted to change, even though she just wanted to change into sweatpants. He wanted to know everything. “Hmm?” she hummed and drew little circles on his chest.

“Why are you always covering your hip?” he asked and she gulped. “You will know it soon enough”, she answered and he was somewhat satisfied with that answer. The last thing he wanted was to pick a fight. “I want to kiss you again”, he whispered and she lifted her head to look at him. She rolled herself on top of him and started to kiss his jawline before stopping right over his lips. With a quick look of reassurance, he pressed his lips on hers. She moaned by the feeling of his soft lips, craving it for such a long time. He ran his tongue over her lower lip and she opened her mouth a little, to let him in. His hands were on her hips and he groaned when she squeezed his biceps a little. He quickly turned her around, so that he laid on top of her.

She hesitated and stopped kissing him, clearly feeling unwell with not being in control. Charles pressed his lips on the side of her neck. “We can stop whenever you want. But you don´t have to be in control all the time”, he whispered and spread little kisses from her neck to her jawline. He lifted his head and looked at her, her eyes fixating on him. “Do you trust me?” he asked and she quickly nodded. “100 percent”, she answered and he smiled. “You say the word and I stop”, he reassured her and started to spread kisses down her body. Y/n was already going crazy by his touch, she didn’t have sex since what happened with her ex-boyfriend. She thought she would never trust anybody with her body again, but she felt safe with Charles. She knew that he would never do something she didn’t want. So she let it happen.

She let him kiss her clothed breast, let him slid his hands under her shirt to caress them. He kissed her stomach but made no attempts to take off her pants. Instead, he pressed his lips on her inner thigh, kissing his way all the way down to her ankle just to go back up.

He grabbed the hem of her shorts, looking up to her. She nodded, slowly, closing her eyes as she felt him pulling down her shorts. He pressed a kiss on her thigh, then the other one. He kissed the left side of her hip and made his way over her belly button, before he reached the scarred spot. Three little round marks were there and Charles closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Did he do this to you?” he asked and looked at her. She only nodded again. “Did Nico take care of him?” he asked and felt relieved when she nodded once more. Carefully, he striped his lips over her skin. He felt the uneven surface of where the marks are and she gasped a little. He pushed himself up and hovered over her. “You´re beautiful, do you know that?” he asked. “Nothing could ever change that”. He didn’t wait for her reply, knowing that he wouldn’t get one.

He started pressing against on her body again, more demanding this time. He kissed her marks again before he got lower. She breathed heavily, waiting for him to finally touch her where she needed him most. Not wanting to tease her, he pressed his lips on her core. She gasped and bended her neck which made him smile.

His tongue found all the right places. He ate her out as if he was starving and he was in a way. He had to wait too long for this, imagined how she would taste like too often. Y/n was overwhelmed by the feeling, knowing that she wouldn’t last long. She grabbed his hair and moaned, never wanting this moment to stop. “Char-“ she gasped when her high washed over her, releasing her from the pressure. He hummed and licked over her now sensitive clit a couple more times before he pushed himself up to her again. Her taste and her sounds caused his cock to be painfully hard, but he didn’t want to rush things. “We don’t have to go further tonight”, he said and gave her a quick kiss. She shook her head, eagerly. There was no way she´d stop now. “Want all of you tonight, Charlie”, she whispered and he groaned, kissing her neck again. “I don´t have a condom, mon amour”, he mumbled and she forced him to look at her. “I´m on birth control. And I trust you”, she said.

Since she got her first period, birth control was the most important thing for y/n. Bad things happened in the ghetto and even though luckily nothing like this ever happened to her, she knew what happened to her mother. To avoid being in the same situation, she saved all her money to get an IUD.

Charles was quick with getting rid of his pants, lining himself up over her entrance. “Please”, she gasped and he slid inside her, overwhelmed by the feeling of her. “God, y/n”, he moaned and moved slowly, needing to get used to her tightness. “Faster”, she moaned after a few thrusts and he picked up his pace. “You´re making me crazy”, he moaned and slid one arm under her back to have her in a better grip. “Fuck, Charles”, she moaned loudly and he hissed, knowing that he wouldn’t last long tonight.

He felt her walls clenching around him after some time and when her orgasm gripped him tightly inside of her, he got pushed over the edge. With a few sloppy thrusts he finished inside of her, breathing heavily as he leaned his head against hers. Never had he experienced sex this intense. “Fuck, y/n”, he gasped.

She wanted him to say it. He wanted to say it. They´ve waited too long, had to hide their feelings for too long and he couldn’t wait much longer. But what if it was too early? What if she wasn’t ready for saying it too? Would it matter? Every single one of Charles thoughts got washed away when she opened her mouth. “Say it”, she whispered and he groaned. His hand found its way to her cheek, his heart pounding fast inside his chest. “Je t´aime, y/n”, he whispered and she breathed in heavily, afraid that her heart would jump out of her chest. “I love you too, Charles”.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #formula one imagine #ferrari #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1

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sweet-fading-summer-love · 4 months

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Veils & Vows

Summary - You partake in wedding reception pleasantries while your groom, Elvis takes care of a few business matters. Only when the two of you are back in your hotel room do you get him all to yourself.

Warnings - wedding night sex, oral (f. receiving), p in v, fingering, no protection, smut, missionary sex, mentions of crime/crime family dealings, swearing

WC - 4.4k

Author's Note - I found this photo as I haven't been able to get Elvis off my mind as of late and I had watched Goodfellas last night so the thought came to mind, what if I wrote Elvis in a Goodfellas-esque au, aka a mobster au. That's how this came about. I've got almost 20k of this written already so I figure I post it in a few parts, and make it into a short series.

The Prologue

As a pair of familiar rough hands cupped your cheeks in a warm enveloping kiss, the rowdy applause of your family and friends filled the huge rented ballroom. The reception had started off on a sweet little note as Elvis' toast was made primarily to honor you, but also to honor some of the bigshots and higher-ups in the family who had been gracious enough to attend.

You knew the claps were primarily pointed toward the important men in your family and in Elvis' entourage but that didn't bother you too much. Your crowd was a close one, so close that even a day that was supposed to be yours, had to be divided up nicely to keep everyone happy. That's how it had always been.

Elvis' hand on your hip pulled your body closer to his as he pressed a few nibble-like kisses along your cheek. As he pulled back he stared at you with a small smile, his eyebrows lifted a tinge as his eyes were widened enough to get a real good look at his bride.

"Baby, I gotta go talk with some of the guys, so wait here f'me?"

Just as you had to share the attention on your wedding day, you had to share Elvis as well. But you didn't mind, you couldn't. Whatever Elvis did, it was what made him the man he was, the man you loved.

Your answer was short but soft as your eyes fell onto the way his hand grasped one of yours, "Oh, yeah, sure"

His eyes crinkled in a smile as he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the finger with your rock of a diamond ring gently, mumbling into the skin, "Thank you Baby."

So for the next 20 minutes you sat quietly at the table, your husband's empty seat keeping you company as you watched Elvis be approached by one crowd of men and then the next. Just about all of the men you had been introduced to.

There was Jerry "Hairy" Schilling, the man got his name because he was always greasing up his hair, so much so that he got 5 years in the can because he left greasy handprints on the window of a car that he'd kept some stolen goods in, he managed to dodge the charges of posession of stolen goods but the car happened to be stolen. What a dumbass.

Then the West brothers who maintained a perfect record at the races, they were raking in more money in the South from betting with those damned bookies than the Texas oil aristocrats. And that's saying something.

There's also Joe 'Diamond Joe' Esposito. He got his name from being part of the notorious group who fixed the 1962 World Series, Yankees win all the way. For those who aren't baseball fans, a baseball field is referred to as a baseball diamond. You only knew because your house was always full of Yankees fans who spat at the tv if an ump so much as called a strike on Mickey Mantle.

Speaking of the Yankees, though Joe DiMaggio couldn't make an appearance he sent over a nice bottle of champagne with his compliments to the both of you.

And that was just the start of it. On your side there were a lot of close family friends who also attended, a bunch of Italian goons, and a few mixed mutts thrown in as well. And that was the family.

"For the family"

You looked up to see Esposito's wife holding out an envelope of cash to you with the biggest smile. You nodded and beckoned her down to you with a finger, hugging her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her cheek as she returned on to yours. She whispered in your ear, "You make a gorgeous bride", before pulling back and pushing the envelope closer to you.

You mumbled a thank you and as you took the envelope you saw the rest of the women beginning to line up with their husbands and their envelopes. Before you had gotten through your third round of thank you's and pleasantries with the wedding guests Elvis was sitting by you once more.

His hand rested on your thigh while his other reached out to help you grab the envelopes and shake the hands of the men after they pressed a kiss to your cheek.

The extravagant wedding was practically paid for by the guests and you even got more money on the side, enough for a few months rent for an apartment, just what newlyweds needed. After all, you couldn't celebrate your union living in your mother's house. And you had told Elvis you refuse to live in a house with men going in and out, you wouldn't do it.

While you were his girlfriend and spent plenty of time in his townhouse you watched with a look of disapproval as his friends and aquantances walked in and out like it were a hotel, ordering food from the cook as if it were a restaraunt.

You refused to make a home out of that, and Elvis had promised your godfather, a very important and influential man in the crowds that Elvis roamed about, that you would have a proper home to be the lady of.

By the time all the crowd had come through with their envelopes of cash you found that you’d made a small fortune from this night alone, and that wasn’t even accounting for the huge pile of gifts that were yet to be open.

As the night carried on, you and Elvis had finally taken part in your first dance, it had taken so long since Elvis didn’t like to dance. And as Dean Martin’s song, “You’re Nobody ‘Til Somebody Loves You”, filled the room he mumbled softly for only you to hear, “Ya know I wouldn’t dance for nobody but you.”

You smiled, “I know”

He beamed a prideful smile as you continued to carry your way through the dance gracefully.

When it had ended Elvis kissed your cheek and passed you over to your late-father’s dear friend, your godfather, Marco, who wanted to take his turn with his dearest goddaughter. Marco pressed a kiss to your cheek and pulled you close to take his turn.

Your eyes drifted to the side of the room, Elvis was conglomerating with a couple of men, one of the men, Frankie Albero, began to gesture wildly and you could hear his voice raise just barely above the music. Elvis sent Jerry a look and Jerry pulled him elsewhere, he had that placating look on his face. Whenever Elvis wasn’t in the mood to deal with someone he had Jerry deal with it like such.

You watched as Jerry led the guy to one of the exits, whispering some assurances likely. You bit your lower lip, whenever Jerry pulled that move, the guy with him usually didn’t return without a busted lip or a bruised eye. But Albero was an important man, he was a made man, something Elvis could never be, so it was more than likely that Jerry was just tasked with getting the guy out of the ballroom rather than roughing him up.

Elvis didn’t want a spectacle to be made at the wedding unless the spectacle was you.

“Princess,”

You turned your head back to Marco who seemed to stare down at you with a knowing smile.

“Ah, yes Marco?”

“Don’t worry about it, the kid’s got it handled.”

You smiled up at him and leaned your head on his shoulder, murmuring softly, “I know Marco”

The two of you danced a few more circles as he asked you how you liked your wedding and if anyone was giving you trouble.

“No, everyone’s been wonderful, don’t worry”

You knew if you said differently your godfather might do something drastic, he was like Elvis in that fashion, things were always a production when it came to concerns of family and loved ones.

Marco told a joke about he couldn’t believe his only goddaughter had married an Irishman. The fact that Elvis had Irish roots had strained your relationship with Marco for a long time. You thought the bind of Catholicism would bring your godfather to like Elvis more but that hadn’t done much.

It was only because Elvis had begun to make a name for himself in the crowds of the city that your godfather warmed up to him. Suddenly there was an Irishman steering his way through groups of made men at the Copa with a charismatic smile and a handshake to every single one of them.

There was suddenly an Irishman looking after the little guy in the guinea neighborhoods, tucking hundred dollar bills into a poor man’s breast pocket just for shining his shoes. That is what had earned Marco’s respect.

Well, that and the fact that Elvis had slipped a couple hundred dollars under the table to a man who roughed up the grocery boy who had catcalled you one time.

Not to mention the fact that Elvis was in with all the supplying men, he had a hand in every jar. He had access to all the best supply runners, their routes, and their loads. It was usually liquor, cigars, cigarettes, and cash. He even liked to keep tabs on meat trucks just for his own enjoyment of the often expensive delicacy.

But it wasn’t for nothing. No. Everybody around him got a piece of the action for supplying him with the information that was deemed invaluable if you were the right man and knew how to run steals and heists. Simply put, if you were Elvis.

But despite all that, Elvis would never be a made man. But he was practically untouchable just as a made man would be. Before he had even married you he was untouchable just from his reputation, and the fact that he was like a fountain of money, he making enough cash to go around.

But now that he was married to you, he truly was untouchable. Your family ran the neighborhood, and the next few blocks after. The way someone would lose a finger for touching you with it, now applied to Elvis as well. He had protection, he had his hand in every cookie jar in the city, and now he had you.

When the reception was over, Elvis had taken you to one of the classiest hotels in the city, he’d telephoned beforehand so that the room was at a temperature you liked, asked that the candy bowls be filled with those caramel hard candy’s that you kept in your clutch every time the two of you had a night out, and had sent your favorite sheets to be placed on the bed, he knew you never liked the sheets hotels provided.

And though it wasn’t the dream honeymoon that many women pictured, like a trip to Hawaii or the Hamptons, you didn’t mind. Being in the crowds that you and Elvis were in, you both tried to remain lowkey with that kind of thing. Your wedding date had been in the papers, so with that information people likely had their eyes and ears on you. The last thing the two of you needed was going to an exotic destination just to get shot in the airport.

Being lowkey was romantic to you, it just made the little things in your relationship much more prominent. And you knew that with Elvis, you didn’t need Hawaii to have a honeymoon with an amount of loving on that would rival an entire whorehouse.

And he proved it as he laid you sprawled along the center of the bed, on the cold, slippery satin sheets. You wore nothing but a robe that was spread open giving Elvis a view of you in all your glory, of course paired with your wedding ring, the edges of the clean cut diamonds were leaving the smallest of tears and rips in the sheets as it glided along the fabric.

He shrugged off his white button-up, and as his hands reached to undo the button and zipper on his slacks, he stopped to stare for a moment and mumble,

“My wife…”

He stared at your body incredulously, leaving you to blush silently and let him. His next words came out a whisper while his hand held your ankle as he stood at the end of the bed half-naked,

“By the graces of God, you’re my wife.”

You smiled softly at his words, “And,” you started before sitting up, now on your knees you crawled toward him to the edge of the bed. With the leverage of the bed your head was at the height of his chest, as you looked up at him he looked down at you, awaiting your words.

“You’re my husband”

Your eyes drifted down to his lips. As you stared at his slightly ajar mouth you absentmindedly shrugged off your robe that was already open, once off you brought your hands up to bury themselves in his hair as you pulled him down to kiss you.

He groaned softly as he leaned into the kiss, you were trying to pull him down onto the bed. You could hear and feel the shuffle of him trying to get his pants and boxers off as fast as he could so that he could fall with you onto the bed.

As he tumbled onto the bed naked, atop you, his touch and scent had tumbled with him. Your senses felt overwhelmed as you could smell the aftershave on his cheek when he pressed kisses along your cheek, a hand in your hair to manuever your head in whatever way he liked.

As his kisses traveled further down to nestle into your collarbone, his free hand roamed to cup the globe of your ass, kneading you like bread as he licked and suckled your skin like candy.

“Oh Elvis,”

He hummed into your skin as his hand on your ass traveled to your middrift. His fingers glided down your body like you were a map, his finger lazily traveling to the destination. And when you let out a surprised squeak and your legs twitched as he grazed your clit, he smiled knowing he found his destination.

You gasped as he rubbed a circle.

“Oh- Oh Elvis…”

His lips murmured lazily against your skin, “Mm what”

Elvis’ hand left your scalp as he needed to tend to himself while his other hand tended to you. You threw your head in a loop as your back arched up with the flicks of his finger on your clit. It wasn’t long till he’d easily dipped a digit into your awaiting core.

You were wet enough that he was able to quickly slide another in.

His hand and fingers were gentle as he fondled your entire pussy with one hand, from a finger dragging across your clit to a few others taking deep plunges into your entrance, it was like heaven.

Your cunt contracted as his fingers curled, you mouth gaped open in a silent moan as he continued the erotically slow but steady pace.

“What is it? What do ya need?”

His kisses halted as he crawled down between your legs, spreading your thighs with a hand as his other continued with their touching and teasing. You gasped softly as you felt him blow on the flushed skin down there.

“Ah…”

He turned to press a kiss along your thigh, now one hand of his focused on pumping his fingers in and out while the other hand’s thumb rolled over you clit in steady circles. His kisses continued up your thigh.

He murmured, “Tell me, I know ya can”

You moaned softly. A hand flew down to nestle in his dark hair while your other grasped at the slippery sheets below you.

“You, hah, I need you Elvis..!”

He smiled softly and placed a gentle kiss between your clit and where his fingers pumped inside of you. Said fingers then pulled out as Elvis' tongue dove in, his nose peeking it’s way inside perfectly.

His moistened hand slid across the sheets as a means to wipe off your natural lubricant before he grabbed the back of your knee, lifting it so that he could get better leverage and cover more ground as he continued to eat you out.

“Elvis..! Fuck, E-Elvis you, I need you…”

Your head fell back completely as his thumb worked in unison with his tongue. You felt yourself falling apart so fast, you felt yourself taking such a dive into the deep end that all you could say was his name, like he was your god giving all you could ever want. Like he was your god who depended on your belief that he would take care of you.

He hummed and growled into your cunt as your legs began to kick wildly, as your grip and pull on his hair into your pussy had tightened, and as your hips pumped upward into him in earnest.

“Oh Elvis! Oh I’m so- Elvis!”

Your eyes flew to the back of your head as your body continued to chase that feeling and your sentence was cut off with a moan of his name as you came.

You could hardly process anything as Elvis went right from that position to lining up his cock while mumbling a few swears. He didn’t give you a grace period as he caged you between his arms and pushed into you swiftly. At the intrusion you let out a high pitched moan and reached for the sheets around you for comfort.

“Grab me Baby, h-hold on f’me okay? Alright Baby?”

His eyebrows were furrowed in discomfort as his body stiffened completely, waiting for you to get yourself settled. When he saw the awkwardness of your arms having to reach up so far, he brought himself down into a low plank above you so that you could easily wrap your arms around him while laying down.

As he slid out he mumbled a low, “fuck…” before pushing back in slowly. You moaned into his neck as he continued on with that movement, working himself into a slow rhythm.

You encouraged him gently after releasing a soft gasp at his cock hitting your cervix.

“Ah, yes, keep going”

He hummed in response and leaned his head down against yours as his hips continued to rock in and out of you in deep strokes, it was almost painful to pull out of the warmth of your pussy. With each exposure of his cock to the room he felt the temperature snap at his skin, then be enveloped in a moment’s notice by your warm walls. It was an almost masochistic cycle that he had to follow through with the reach that special peak.

If not for that moment of ecstasy that he was chasing, he’d be content to just stay inside of you, soaking in your warmth and that snug feeling that your cunt provided him with.

He questioned through gritted teeth, thrusting harder with each question,

“Ya like it? Huh? Ya like that?”

As his thrusts grew sharper you gasped with every single one. Nodding your head with a silent moan as he continued on, only with a faster pace.

“Like it when I fuck ya? Yeah?”

He braced his hands on the bed as your nails dug crescents into his back as his muscles flexed with the sudden roughness and speed. He was close.

“My wife likes it when I fuck her huh? She likes it when I lay her down yeah?”

You let out a strangled moan as he began to plunge into you so fast that his rhythm was beginning to get all out of wack. The lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass as he continued with his thrusts, the moans that left your throat in a guttural way, his groans against the skin of your neck, and squelching and air pops as his cock plunged in and out of you made a cacophony of what must be the sounds of good loving.

Suddenly you felt yourself reaching that peak again and as the coil in your stomach snapped and you moaned his name, he growled with a rasp as his hips worked with their own agenda, helping him reach his release as fast as possible.

And when his legs trembled, his body shook, and his groans got drawn out, you knew he’d finished.

He began to slowly grind into you more, as he did so you felt the warmth of his seed spill out of your entrance slightly. He slowly rode out that high, panting, “My wife…” as he did so.

A/N - As I said I plan to make this into a series because I've already written so much and I think there might be someone who might like this, so, if you're that someone just leave any sort of comment and I'll tag you in the next part.

Series Summary: While it was deemed a waste for you to marry an Irishman, completely disregarding your bloodline that led all the way back to the old country, you couldn't help who you fell in love with. Thankfully Elvis had earned the respect of those in your crowd and made a name for himself, he got himself properly inducted into the family business. But just as your life together starts to properly begin, the head of the family would need Elvis to take care of a few things in the casinos of Vegas.

Credits: Photo of Elvis is from the 45 RPM picture sleeve for Wonder Of You/Mama Liked The Roses, the rest is pinterest, and the layout is from canva. This series will also take lots of reference/inspiration from Goodfellas, the Godfather, Casino, and of course a few books I've read on the subject.

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f1letters · 1 year

Text

mastermind | cs55

"what if I told you none of it was accidental?"

summary: it all started when she saw him across the room and she knew right away she wouldn't give up until he was hers

warning: overall fluff, lying reader (with the dumbest but funniest plan too lol), daddy issues, slut-shaming, mentions of alcohol, swearing, suggestive language, the beginning of the story takes place in 2021 when Carlos joined Ferrari (so it's all flashback for much of the story, including the 2021 Monaco GP)

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

word count: 3.8k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

spanish words used: corazón = heart; bebé = baby; ay Dios mío = oh my God; mi amor = my love; te quiero mucho = I love you so much

so I guess this week's theme is Scuderia Ferrari! haha, I hope all of you enjoy this one as always! I can't believe we are already on the 6TH STORY of the midnights series! thank you for all the love you have been giving me in the past weeks since I started, it means the world to me

masterlist

Once upon a time, the planets and the fates

And all the stars aligned

You and I ended up in the same room

At the same time

Once upon a time, in the beautiful city of Milan, dozens of people gathered at a gala dinner to celebrate the anniversary of the iconic racing team that was Scuderia Ferrari.

Like everything associated with the luxury Italian car manufacturer, the dinner was going to be a monumental and remarkable celebration. The red team never did anything less than big, so clearly, no costs had been spared to make the party the best it could be.

It had vintage cars on display, red carpets throughout the corridors, and walls covered in gold frames with images of the team's history over the decades. The ostentation was notable, from the table decorations in the characteristic Ferrari colours to the incredible reception and service of all employees of the gala.

Y/N couldn't believe all the beauty her eyes saw. The young woman almost felt dizzy trying to capture all the details that surrounded her.

Being the daughter of a very busy businessman, it wasn't the first time that the girl ended up having to represent him in business commitments due to his inability to attend. However, as someone who only played a small role in the company's finances, she still felt lost and out of place, especially at a dinner party the size of this one.

The weight on her shoulders of representing her father, one of the team's biggest investors and sponsors, was something that still scared her, no matter how many times she did it.

Y / N walked elegantly across the room, with the sound of her high heels clicking on the floor following her until she reached her table. Her name written on a glass plate indicated where she should sit and she did so, adjusting her long black silk dress so that it wouldn't get crumpled on the chair.

As time progressed, her table was filled with old and arrogant businessmen, more interested in talking about money and showing off their luxury. Y/N made small talk occasionally, but she obviously felt like an outsider.

My father would fit perfectly in here, she couldn't help but think. Critical of her as always, even without being in Italy, he managed to complain about her look for the evening, criticizing her choice of dress for not being red or yellow like the symbol of the Prancing Horse.

The young woman ended up giving in partially, painting her lips with a red lipstick that she had forgotten in her suitcase, seeking his approval, just like she had done all her life.

Her eyes roamed along the room in search of entertainment, so bored that watching others would be a far more interesting escape than listening to the men talk.

And that's when she saw him, in the same room, at the same time.

In all his splendour, Carlos Sainz, the promising Spanish driver who had just joined Scuderia Ferrari, immediately captured her attention. He was sitting at the bar, in a black suit that fit his muscular frame perfectly, fiddling with his phone, probably just as pleased to be there as she was.

All the stars aligned to bring them there at that moment, and Y/N was determined to take advantage of the chance of a lifetime given to her.

And the touch of a hand lit the fuse

Of a chain reaction of countermoves

To assess the equation of you

Checkmate, I couldn't lose

She sat there for a few minutes while she listed several potential ways to approach the driver.

Could she be straightforward and sit next to him at the bar and try to strike up a conversation? No, that wasn't a good idea. He wouldn't want some random girl bothering him at his first Ferrari show.

What if she waited for him to look her way and smile at him, or wave at him, something like that? Okay, that was ridiculous. If Carlos didn't look at her all night, Y/N was going to stay there forever staring at him like a stalker, only to go home disappointed.

The young woman needed an excuse to talk to him, something that would allow her to build a master plan that could not fail.

She couldn't lose. She couldn't let this chance pass.

Nothing was going to stop her.

He had to be hers.

And then it hit her, her 'a-ha!' moment. With a completely out-of-the-box idea, the girl got up from her chair, apologised to the people at the table for leaving, and confidently started her mission.

Carlos was sitting at the bar all alone, holding a whiskey in one hand while the other was scrolling through his Instagram feed, until out of nowhere he felt the touch of a small, soft hand on his big, rough one, catching him off guard.

"Sorry about that, but there's this weird guy who keeps bugging me. When I saw you alone, I told him my boyfriend was waiting for me as an excuse for him to leave me alone, I'm sorry." Y/N lied through her teeth and let out a nervous giggle as soon as she saw the Spaniard's shocked face.

Carlos couldn't help but notice the girl's charming figure and the way the dress fit her amazing body in all the right places, still in shock mode not knowing what to say.

Y/N noticed and released a smile. Her plan was kicking off and starting in full force. "I hope you don't have a girlfriend who is going to show up at any moment and pull my hair out for hitting on her man?" She said, laughing more confidently now.

"Don't worry. There is no girlfriend." He smiled at him, allowing their eyes to meet for the first time and squeezing her hand more securely. "So who's the creepy guy?"

"Oh." Oh fuck. Y/N did not expect this question at all. Panicking already about her lie being revealed, the woman impulsively looked over her shoulder and pointed at a random skinny man who had his back to them. "That guy over there, but I think I've already lost him."

Carlos looked in the direction she pointed and a discreet smirk formed on his face. He looked back at the girl and without releasing her hand from his hold, he spoke. "So, what's your name, corazón?"

What if I told you none of it was accidental?

And the first night that you saw me

Nothing was gonna stop me

I laid the groundwork, and then

Just like clockwork

The dominoes cascaded in a line

Though the beginning of the couple's story had been anything but accidental, for the rest of that night, they were all about each other. Attached at the hip, they eventually moved to the driver's table, cocktails in their hands, and just talked for hours on end about everything and anything: from how nervous he was about joining a racing team with a history like Ferrari's, to why she was at that gala, even if she didn't look like one of the normal guests at these celebrations.

The fiery chemistry between them was noticeable to anyone who laid eyes on them, and with him being the hot new addition to the team, countless people were curious about the pair.

The two felt like children again, so much was the joyful enthusiasm that grew inside them. They didn't know if it was something physical or psychological that was happening to them but one thing they both believed: it was something magical.

But love at first sight has these foolish things: for those lucky enough to experience it, it only happens once in a lifetime and it's something that stays with them until the end of time.

After a while, Carlos excused himself to go to the bathroom and Y/N knew it was time to get the second phase of her master plan in order.

When the driver came back, the woman was nowhere to be seen. It was almost as if she were a mirage, a figment of his imagination that simply vanished into thin air.

He looked for her, looking all around the splendorous dining room, but there was no sign of her. What do you mean she left him alone after all the chemistry that was created between the two throughout that night?

It was as he turned back to the table that Carlos noticed the red napkin folded over his plate. Carefully, he picked it up and unfolded it, finding a phone number and the girl's name written in black ink, along with a clumsy heart at the bottom of the note.

If she had planned to have him completely fascinated by her and wanting to see her again more than anything else, she had succeeded.

What if I told you I'm a mastermind?

And now you're mine

It was all by dеsign

'Cause I'm a mastermind

The very next day Carlos gained the courage to text her and make his move since the pawns were now on his side.

From: Unknown

I have a paddock pass with your name on it as my guest waiting for you. Monaco, next Sunday. Hope to see you there, bebé - CS

Her heartbeat immediately sped up as she read that message. However, there was no time to waste.

The show must go on. She had a man to win. Putting her brave face back on, the young woman took a deep breath and decided to send a text playing hard to get, trying to entertain the curiosity he had in getting to know her better.

To: Carlos Sainz

I guess you'll have to wait and see if I show up...

You see, all the wisеst women

Had to do it this way

'Cause we were born to be the pawn

In every lover's game

Sunday morning came in the blink of an eye.

Y/N woke up with the sunlight hitting the window of her hotel room. She got up right away, put on a robe and went to the entrance to the balcony to observe the breathtaking view of Monte Carlo.

The girl could barely contain the butterflies of anticipation that she had in her stomach, anxious to see again the Spaniard who controlled all her thoughts since the gala where they met.

During the days until the race weekend arrived, the couple exchanged messages all the time. Not only did it allow them to get to know each other better, but it also took their relationship to a new level, with the two of them now openly flirting, not afraid to reveal their mutual interest in each other.

Y/N went to her wardrobe and carefully chose her outfit for the day, selecting a simple white jumpsuit and silver open heels.

She knew that her presence would be noticed, thanks to the importance of her last name, something that worried her a lot. Not because of Carlos, but because of what her father would say.

The businessman had heard from some of his associates about his daughter's interaction with the driver during the Italian team's anniversary, which led to a huge argument between them. Y/N's father expressed his disappointment in (what he thought was) his daughter's lack of professionalism, going so far as to accuse her of being a disgrace to the family name for acting like a 'slut'.

Nothing out of the ordinary for him. The young woman could no longer take the things he said to heart, with so many criticisms and low expectations her dad had of her.

She wasn't going to stop living because of him, especially when it put at risk her relationship with a man as spectacular as Carlos.

Going against her father's orders, Y/N got on their private plane and flew towards Monaco without giving him any explanation of where she was going.

After she finished getting ready, the woman looked at her reflection in the mirror and one of Carlos' many texts echoed in her thoughts: your red lipstick drove me completely crazy to kiss you in Milan. And with that came the next step in her master plan. She took the same lipstick and applied it over her lips.

Carlos wouldn't be able to resist.

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail

Strategy sets the scene for the tale

I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails

And the liquor in our cocktails

Y/N got into her rented black Ferrari parked outside the hotel and drove the short distance to the circuit. Did she need to have such an ostentatious car with her? No, she didn't. But why not take advantage of her connections with the team to entice the man who was waiting for her?

Arriving at the parking lot, the engine of her car caught the attention of the people who were there. Photographers began to direct their cameras in her direction, flashes going off, waiting to know who was behind the smoked windows driving.

As soon as she got out of the vehicle, she could hear whispers: who was she, where was her father, was she a guest of Scuderia Ferrari, did she have an affair with one of the drivers.

Putting on her sunglasses to protect herself from the sun as well as the flashes, Y/N lifted her head and started to walk confidently towards the entrance where she knew her pass had been left by Sainz and was waiting for her.

On the other side of the paddock, Carlos became aware of the commotion that was settling in at the entrance, wondering which celebrity had arrived this time. Although he was still hopeful, the driver didn't know yet if his dream girl was going to show up.

Seconds later, his colleague Charles approached him and the two sat on two piles of tires, talking about the race that was going to start in half an hour until Monaco's home hero interrupted the conversation.

"Mate, isn't that your girl?" Leclerc, now in on the subject after Carlos told him everything about that night, asked when he saw a figure in white approach their motorhome, with a sea of photographers following close behind her.

"Ay Dios mío, she came." Carlos spoke aloud, blurting out his thoughts as his brain seemed to shut down with the image of her.

Y/N was now mere steps away from the boy and looked directly into his eyes, giving him a sly smile, almost like a scheming criminal plotting something.

With his eyes still locked on her, as if she were the only person in the world at that moment, Carlos watched as she walked right past him into the motorhome, not saying a word to him.

Just a gentle touch on his hand, like she did at the bar on that memorable night.

"Good luck with her, mate." Charles' laughter echoed in the Spaniard's ears as the Monegasque left, leaving Sainz standing there, speechless, all alone.

Carlos woke up from his trance when he felt the flashes on him. The photographers. They sure took pictures of their little moment there.

Oh, she was trouble.

What if I told you none of it was accidental?

And the first night that you saw me

I knew I wanted your body

I laid the groundwork, and then

Just like clockwork

The dominoes cascaded in a line

The man followed her path and entered Ferrari's home, immediately seeing her alone, leaning against one of the walls and concentrating on her phone.

Quickly, the driver reached near her and grabbed her hand, pulling her with him into his driver's room.

On the other hand, the girl hadn't even realized what was happening to her when her back made contact with a wall inside a small room and she heard the door close in a hurry.

The image in front of her left her feeling equally shy and wanting more. Carlos placed both hands on the wall next to her head, making it impossible for her to break free from his hold.

"You're playing with fire, corazón." Carlos moved dangerously close to her, allowing her to feel his warm breath on her neck. "Coming in here teasing me like that."

"Me? Teasing? Never." Y/N replied, running her hand over the fireproof garment that covered the man's toned chest.

"You're lucky I spent all this time waiting for you to come." He lifted his head, making eye contact with the girl. "You make me lose all control, bebé, I swear. Since the first night I saw you, I've wanted your body."

One of the driver's hands left the wall and he brought it to the young woman's cheek, letting his thumb run gently across her lower lip.

"That red lipstick again." Sainz reduced the distance between them even further, letting his own mouth graze over hers. "You're doing it on purpose."

"What if I am?" She spoke, giving him a look that was a perfect mixture of innocent and provocative.

Carlos glanced at the watch on his wrist for just a second, turning his attention back to her right away. "Then I guess I still have time to show you what happens when I lose control."

Although he ended up in second place in that race, almost reaching the top of the podium, Carlos left Monaco feeling like a winner after that half hour between those four walls.

Nothing would ever make him feel on top of the world like her on top of him.

What if I told you I'm a mastermind?

And now you're mine

It was all my design

'Cause I'm a mastermind

More than a year and a half later, and with the 2022 Formula 1 season now over, Y/N and Carlos were still together and happier than ever.

They overtook everything that came their way, only to get back stronger.

Her father obviously hadn't taken their relationship well from the start, leading the girl to quit the company and cut off contact with him for months on end. only now trying to make amends. Only now, more than a year later, the two were trying to make amends and reconnect, since the businessman contacted her to apologize for everything he had put her through during her life.

The media was also a difficult step to overcome. For a long time, they insisted on invading their privacy due to the business connections between both sides. It was tricky to strike a balance between not being a secret and keeping their relationship to themselves at the same time. But eventually, the two of them managed to get there with the experience that time brought.

Now, the couple was lying in their bed, in the house they had recently bought together in Milan, a city so special to them and that symbolized the beginning of their story.

Being there, in silence, holding each other, with the room lit only by the light coming from the fireplace. That meant the world to them. Those were the kind of moments they cherished the most, especially in such a relationship that required a lot of work with how much he travelled during most of the year.

The young woman was lost in the memories of the past, daydreaming about the beginning of their history, when Carlos intertwined their fingers and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

He was hers.

Just like she designed it like the mastermind she was.

No one wanted to play with me as a little kid

So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

To make them love me and make it seem effortless

This is the first time I've felt the need to confess

And I swear

I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian

'Cause I care

Perhaps moved by her trip down memory lane, for the first time in their relationship, Y/N felt the sudden need to confess.

Her palms got sweaty as soon as she started to think of all the scenarios that could result from her confession. What if he didn't want her anymore? Would it be worth it to risk an argument over a detail about the day they met?

"Mi amor, what's wrong?" Carlos asked as he felt the heat and sweat between their clasped hands, sitting down on the bed with his body lightly over hers.

"What if I told you none of this was accidental?" She asked nervously, earning back a laugh from her boyfriend's mouth.

"Sorry bebé, but you've lost me now." He confessed.

"The first night that you saw me. I planned the whole thing. There wasn't a creepy guy trying to hit on me. I lied to get you to talk to me." Wasting no time, Y/N let the words out of her mouth before the courage to speak again disappeared.

So I told you none of it was accidental

And the first night that you saw me

Nothing was gonna stop me

I laid the groundwork, and then

Saw a wide smirk on your face

You knew the entire time

Y/N put both hands over her face to hide and avoid seeing the driver's reaction to her admission.

Carlos, on the other hand, could only chuckle as he brought his hands to his partner's wrists in order to expose her face again.

The young woman opened her eyes slowly in fear, only to be faced with a wide smirk on his face as he looked at her as if she had told the greatest joke in the world.

"I'm being serious, babe. I swear it's the truth." She stressed, remaining with her back flat on the mattress and with her boyfriend's body now fully against hers.

"Ay mi corazón, te quiero mucho." Carlos let out a loud laugh and held her face, placing a quick kiss on her lips to calm her down. "I knew the entire time."

"What?" She asked in shock, sitting on the bed and forcing the boy to sit with her.

"You know the random man you said was the perv?" Y/N nodded in response to Sainz's question. "It was my cousin Carlos. He had been with me all night until I went to the bar to get a drink."

Oh. My. God.

Y/N was never going to show up at the next Sainz family gathering.

You knew that I'm a mastermind

And now you're mine

Yeah, all you did was smile

'Cause I'm a mastermind

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anonymooseforever007 · 1 year

Text

The Engagement

(Luca Changretta x Shelby sister reader)

Summery: You had made it very clear already. You had absolutely no intentions of marrying Luca Changretta for a business deal.... So your brothers really should have been suspicious when you eagerly requested for them to set up a meeting for you and your fiancé one neutral ground.... And they should have been scared when you choose Alfie's shipyard as that neutral ground....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No trigger warnings besides peaky language and threats I think! There are talks about an arranged marriage, but once again we'll see how that goes over.... This is the first time I've like written Luca besides just mentions so I hope I did alright! Also I write this like two weeks ago but forgot to edit it until today oops! Enjoy!❤️

WC-5.0k

Part 1- The Proposal Main Masterlist

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"Remind me again why the fuck we're we're here Tom?"

"Ask her. She was the one who choose the meeting place."

"Keep in mind that she can also hear you perfectly well brother darling, and if you ask that question one more time you won't be so lucky."

Arthur raised his hands in surrender as he took a seat by John as you all sat waiting for your company to arrive. Well, Tommy didn't sit. He just stood with a cigarette hanging from his mouth watching the entrance gate of the loading dock.

"All I don't understand is why you wanted to meet him here. After all, we're Romani blood right?"

"Yes Arthur."

"And Luca's Italian blood?"

"Correct"

"So why the fuck are we meeting at the fucking Jew's shipyard?"

"I actually agree with that. Why are we here? Isn't it suppose to be neutral ground or what not?" John chimed in and even Tommy tilted his head in concession. Even he wasn't sure why you choose to meet Luca in Alfie's territory. He would have rather met in Charlie's yard, but you'd insisted on being here, in the small boat yard on the edge of Alfie's territory.

"Simple. If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed."

"That's some wise fucking words if I've ever heard them, poppet."

Turning around you smiled at the approaching gangster, his loyal dog strolling a few steps ahead. Reaching out you began to coo at the large dog who was eager to receive his belly rubs. Playing with Cyril always improved your mood. You ignored the groans of your brothers and John grabbing on to Arthur's coat to he decided to lunge.

"Hello Arthur!"

"Fuck off!"

"Oi! No fighting," you interrupted getting between the two men, "Now he may hate you all, but he can still hate one more than the other so let's not push it."

Alfie nodded his head mockingly behind you as you gently shoved your eldest brother away. Sending him back to his seat, you gave Tommy a short glare for not stepping in, to which he just shrugged, and then turned towards Alfie again.

"But really why are you here?"

"Can't a man walk his own property?"

"Sure, but you said everything would be ready for when Mr. Changretta arrived. You're not suppose to be here. It's to be a private affair."

"And it is. Just making one last check to see if you lot are all ready and make one last proposal of my own. Also I wanna remind ya not to get any blood on my dock. Just had it redone all nice and such. I wouldn't want your ugly guts staining the finish. I saw their ugly fucking cars pulling up down the street on my way in. Should be here any minute. It's a shame thou init? Pretty thing like you is too good for any of these cunts. If you'd like I can kill them all now and you can run with me, eh poppet? You can play with my dog any day you want."

You laughed as both Arthur and John stood up this time with indignant protests. Even Tommy tensed up and turned to glare at the man who had spoken.

"Alright then Mr. Solomons," you drawled, patting the man's chest, "While that is just a lovelyoffer, unfortunately I am already taken for," a quick glare at Tommy, "though you're welcome to leave the dog anytime. He's such a lovely boy." Cyril wagged his tail at the attention shoving his head into your leg like an over grown cat looking for head scratches. Ones you were more than happy to oblige.

"Well then, I best be off now haven't I mates? Unlike you lot I know to appease a pretty woman with her desires. Y/N." Alfie nodded his head as he stared to head off, Cyril waiting until his master had called thrice before leaving your side. It wasn't until they'd both rounded the corner when the company you'd finally be waiting for arrived. Three black cars pulled up smoothly before coming to a halt. From your place in the shipping yard you watched nine men exit the cars. A few more than you had expected but still not any issue.

Your brothers walked up first, and you saw Tommy moving to shake someone's hand. The man was tall with dark slicked back hair and he wore his hat slightly tilted on his head. He looked stupid. In his mouth sat a toothpick that he seemed to enjoy munching on as he listened to your brother speak. He looked like a cow when he did that you'd stubborn decided. A stupid cow. A handsome cow. But a handsome stupid cow. Stupid. handsome. cow man. asshole.....ok so obviously still you weren't happy to be there. After all, this was the man who threatened to kill your entire family. Even the children, and you made a habit of disliking anyone willing to harm children. They didn't have to want any of their own or even like them in general, but to be willing to harm something so innocent to the crimes being punished seemed wrong to you. So even without meeting the man you knew you despised him. What kinda lowlife monster would be willing to hurt innocent kids to get his revenge? ....Evidently one you're brothers we're willing to marry you too. But was there really no other deal he'd make for peace? Well....If things went to plan you were about to find out.

"I'm glad you were able to consider my proposal Mr.Shelby, I think it's much nicer this way isn't it?"

You didn't even try to hide your disbelieving laugh as the New York Gangster's words reached your ears. Immediately the attention went you, and since he was closer now, you could see the faint outline of a permanent stubble outlining his lower face. Stupid veryhandsome cow man. As he looked towards you for the first time Luca raised and eyebrow.

"Do you find something amusing?"

Tilting your head slightly, you smiled with a false sweetness. Out of the side of your eye, you noticed your brothers tensing up slightly. Be it from the fact Luca was so close or that you interrupted their conversion. Either way, they began to notice the glint in your eye. And slowly they were regretting allowing you to meet Luca before the wedding. As if an introduction at the alter would have been any better.

"Yes. Very amusing in fact. See, I came here thinking it was ME being proposed to," clasping a hand mockingly to your chest you continued, "But here we are and the only one being romanced is my beloved brother. ...Well, romanced isn't the word, that's got to be the shittiest proposal I've ever heard. 'I'm glad you've considered my proposal'.... poppycock! Aren't you Italians suppose to be good at this romance shit?"

Arthur choked on his tongue besides you as Tommy spoke your name in warning, which you ignored. Luca moved his toothpick around his mouth and he gave you a once over. If you hadn't already been set on hating this man, his stare would have sent a pleasant shiver down your back in a way few could these days. Finally, letting out a small but still amused hum, Luca reached out to shake your hand.

"Y/N, I presume?"

"Shelby. Y/N Shelby....Miss Y/N Shelby is my name. And you are too close, back up," you stated firmly. The special emphasis on both 'Shelby' and 'Miss' was more than enough to let anyone know your feelings on the current situation. Luca only raised his eyebrow again and rescinded his unaccepted hand.

"I'm Lu...."

"I know who you are," you interrupted.

"Really," Luca queried. Surely you didn't know enough about him then if you were treating him so flippantly, he thought. He was the man determined to end you entire bloodline only a few weeks ago. You should be terrified of what would happen if he decided he didn't want to marry you!! But no, he thought, instead you were....

"You're the man who thinks finger paintings are scary."

Luca's toothpick fell from his mouth, while John could be heard covering his laugh. Then his eyes narrowed and his voice became slightly darker.

"What did you say?"

Tommy put a hand on your shoulder as he stepped forward to put himself between you two. But before he could open his mouth to take control of the situation again, yours opened first. You waved your hands around in sarcastic excitement as you spoke, imitating the man's voice.

"What were you helping 'mama' with her lesson plan one day, making hand turkeys and decide, 'ohhh THUMBS! Terrifying?! That'll be a great way to show people not to mess with me!'"

Luca's eye twitched and if he hadn't already lost it, you were sure he would have snapped the toothpick between his teeth, his jaw was clenched so tightly.

"Watch your tone with me woma..."

"OR WHAT? You'll send me a finger painting?"

Arthur wrapped an arm around your waist and began to pull your back. No, he didn't like how Luca was speaking to you, but he also didn't want you to start a war of your own today. Even if he had a good idea you'd win. And yet still you weren't deterred.

"Can it be pink and have confetti? OOHH or maybe it can be red like the blood that's gonna run down your throat when imaamuahhh," Arthur hissed as you bit the hand covering your mouth, but it was enough time for Tommy to finally step in again. Briefly...

"She doesn't mean that. It's the fa..."

"He's right! I don't!" You interjected again, freeing yourself of your eldest brother, "I'm not actually a fan of blood, so I won't slit your throat, but I'd be carefully of the champagne at the after party. Never know what slips in the cups these days..."

This time it was John who grabbed you, though not as roughly as Arthur, but luckily for everyone you had finished.... for now. The entire yard was silent and even Tommy was at a small loss for what to say. Truth be told he didn't know if there was anything to say. It was a long enough shot to convince Luca that marriage would be a way to end the vendetta and now here you were, possibly ruining that chance within half an hour. While he could understand your anger, there was still a part of him that was annoyed at the fact you could be so tactless. Another part though, the part that was still your big brother, was incredibly proud and resisting the urge to laugh at your comments. Luca however, remained unimpressed.

"My apologies, Miss Shelby," Luca restated, started to become more than annoyed with your antics. Surely, you knew that he was the one holding the power here? If your family had it, there was no way they'd have even considered the marriage. He was the one holding all the cards and you were instead choosing to act as though this entire plan was your idea. In a quieter, and deceitfully threatening voice, Luca ignored your demand for space and leaned closer to your ear. "Though, one would think for a woman in your situation, you'd be a little more welcoming to your fiancé. After all, I've been so generous to reconsider my previous message of vendetta, haven't I Bella?"

John could be heard whispering to Tommy, probably demanding to be allowed to hit the taller man, but he was held back. Again, you ignored your brothers instead focusing on the man before you, who's just said one of the worst things he could have.

"Generous? You think you're generous to try and force a woman into marriage and take her away from her family? Is it generous to not to kill children in exchange for someone else's freedom? Do you expect me to be happy, fucking happy, to have to spend the rest of my life with you when I don't even know you? I don't who you are or what you might do to me. You expect me to just follow your every whim and play housewife, knowing that one day you may kill me to go after my brothers? Is that what you define fucking generosity as," you fumed, just as angry as you were when you first learned about the new deal. "Well, if that's generous then damn all of the generosity in the world to hell! I agreed to come here today to meet you for my family. I am agreeing to consider giving up some of my freedom for their safety, when I'm not even the one who started this whole mess. I could have said no. I could have left them to fend for themselves and likely die over a needless feud, but I didn't. Because I was the one who decided to be generous. I am the one willing to give up something good that I have, to keep spending bad from happening to someone else. That is generous. My drawback for their benefit. I didn't have to do it but I did. Because I love them. So unless you're more incompetent than you've come off so far, I'd try thinking of a better word than generous for that little statement if I was you," speaking tersely you dared Luca to question your speech. Then taking a deep breath you closed your eyes off a moment.

His last comment had thrown you off, setting you off in a way you hadn't meant to go. And while your words were true, this isn't where you wanted the conversation to go. Not if your plan was going to work. It couldn't work if you'd pushed Luca too far too fast. He needed to be in just the right spot for the biggest blow to make the most efficient impact. Sighing, you straightened your shirt and looked down at your shoes. Your glare dropped and an almost desperate look appeared in your eyes briefly.

"Besides.... is it too much to ask for a proper proposal? Like the one from a story that makes you dream of true love," Tilting your head in an almost wistfully sad way, you'd met Luca's gaze again, noticing that by some miracle he's eyes had softened just slightly. "Even if it's not true it would be nice to pretend wouldn't it? To actually be asked to be one's forever even if it seems there's only one answer? Can't I at least be granted that?"

Luca thought for a moment, taking the time to pull a new toothpick from his pocket. Shooting a brief glance over your shoulder, he saw your brothers staring at him intensely from a few steps behind. It crossed his mind that if he truly did want to, he could kill you here and now. Because he really did have the power in this fight. You stood within half an arms reach and the eight men he'd brought with him far outnumbered your three brothers. It could be an easy fight, over in mere seconds, damned how neutral this ground was suppose to be. He could kill you all now and the vendetta would be settled, AND he wouldn't ever have to deal with your infuriating brothers or your even more infuriating comments ever again. You had showed him no respect up to this point and if it were anyone else they'd have been dead after the first interruption. But you weren't dead, and for some reason, some unknown feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach, Luca wanted do keep it that way. So he unwittingly did exactly what you wanted him to do.

"You want a proper proposal," Luca drawled, his eyes falling to your lips once and his voice was calmer now, almost softly curious, like he sympathized with your plea, "Is that it? Me asking you, and that's all it'll take for this to be done? You'll be good and stop fighting?"

Smiling sweetly again, a more genuine smile this time you nodded, clasping you hands together and placing them behind you almost shyly as you rocked your feet. It was a complete change from your attitude moments ago. Like all it took was to believe someone was listening to you, for you to become this sweet little demure creature from the fairytales his mother taught in her class.

And somehow, naively Luca didn't realize the fairytale of your own act now. Giving a pleased smile, at what he assumed was your acceptance of the deal, he nodded, silently agreeing to your desires. Despite your beliefs Luca didn't think of himself as a monster, nor did he want an unhappy marriage either. He didn't necessarily care if you loved him, but it would be nice if he knew you wouldn't betray him. And if he could please his wife, he figured life would be so much easier for him in that matter. So he supposed he could give you this one thing you seemed to so closely desire. Besides, there was, again, this almost funny feeling that had settled in Luca's stomach. He couldn't say what it was but there was apart of him that was almost.... excited to be able to actually propose to you instead of just meeting you at the alter. It was something he couldn't explain and wouldn't admit yet but it was there. And so the next words from his mouth would seal both your fates.... or so he thought as he took the toothpick out of his mouth to fulfil your wish.

"Y/N Shelby? Would you like to..."

"Wait, not like that!"

Luca froze, his head tilting in confusion at the light frown that has formed on your face. Your brothers, as well as Luca's own men could be here whispering in the background. None of them were really sure what was going on now, but none of them moved, all equally curious to see where this was going.

"Not like that? Didn't you just say you wanted me to propose?"

"Yes, but I also said propose properly," you insisted, "if you don't do it the right way it may as well mean nothing."

"And what exactly does 'proper' mean by your standards? What do you want me to do?" There was a small amount of sarcasm in his words due to a voice in his mind that was starting to get annoyed again, but Luca ignored it. It didn't even take you a second of thought before your smile returned. As had the look that worried your brothers in the first place.

"It means get on your knees Mr. Changretta."

Silence echoed across the entire shipyard. Almost all the men present stood in shock, eyes wide, even Tommy at what you'd just said. Luca however just tilted his head to the side, his hat looked straight now, processing. The deceptively sweet smile still lingered on your face as you waited for a response.

"You said to get on my knees.... to propose to you?" he repeated slowly, wanting to confirm you'd actually just demanded that of him. He wanted to be sure you had the audacity to order such from him.

"I want you on your knees Luca....now."

....

Luca listened.

For some reason, one nobody would ever be able to explain, he did as you said. The toothpick was clenched tightly between his lips as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, eyes locked with yours the entire time. His men could be heard whispering to each other behind him, and Luca knew he'd have to have a talk with them later about what they saw. Luca took a deep breath in, contemplating if this was actually going to happen, if he was actually doing this....Evidently he was.

"Y/N Shelby..." he paused a moment as you stuck out your hand indicating he should take it... He did. You couldn't see it, but Tommy was looking up at sky, lips tightly together trying to hide his smirk. John and Arthur did have to turn around to hide their grins now too. Luca started again. The words were spoken with a slight hint of sarcasm as he repeated by the title you'd reminded him of earlier. Luca tilted his head in question, and if he did it any more his hat probably would have fallen off.

"Y/N Shelby, Miss Y/N Shelby.... would you do me the honor of marrying me, Luca Changretta, and become my wife?"

"No."

Luca almost choked on his toothpick, he inhaled so quickly, his cheeks darkening a slight tint of red. You hadn't even paused for a moment to think, bluntly rejecting the man on his knees before you. Squeezing his hand lightly, you smiled again, though now Luca could see the true meaning of the look and realised that you never had any intentions of accepting his proposal at al. You just wanted to make a fool out of him down on his knees. Quickly, that embarrassment turned to anger as Luca shot to his feet, pulling you closer by the hand and seething in your face. Behind you, your brothers shot into action as well, all tensing up and reaching for their guns. But they knew that even if necessary, they'd have no shot as you were practically shielding Luca with you body because if where they stood.

"That's is enough! Who the fuck do you think you are to fucking make me kneel..."

"Step back Luca," you interrupted, undetected by his ranting, but he ignored you.

"Don't tell me to fucking step back woman. If you think you can treat me...."

"Step back Luca," you repeated again calmly, but it only served to anger him more.

"STEP BACK! Step fucking back!! I will stand wherever I fucking want to stand," and with that he stepped even closer, to where the tip of his nose was touching yours. "You don't seem to understand anything going on."

"Actually I..."

"NO! Your precious brothers are going to have a bullet coming out of every fixing hole they have in ten seconds in you don't fucking listen," His hands were on your shoulders know gripping you roughly. The toothpick in his mouth almost stabbing you in the face as he spoke. "You are not the one in power here, I am. You do not make the calls, I do. I am the one who can tear apart everything you hold dear." Luca leaned his head back arrogantly, looking down at you over nose. He was still less than an arm's length part. "I have nine men and you have three. So who's to fucking stop me from killing your brothers and having my way with you right now?"

A shot rang though the air.

Luca's toothpick was still in his mouth, but now half of it had been blown to sawdust by the bullet passingly cleanly before his face.

You just smiled...

"I told you to step back Luca..."

Every man in the ship yard ignored you, reaching for their guns, trying to find the shooter. Even your brothers looked around, slightly panicked, not knowing who fired the gun.... Or whose side they were on. The surprise of the shot, had loosened Luca's grip on you as you freed yourself and took a few steps back. Two more shots rang out from somewhere, landing close to Luca's feet, creating more space between the pair of you as he stumbled back. Then the shipyard went quiet again. Not a single man moved, for fear the next shots wouldn't be so harmless. Still searching for the ambusher Luca turned towards Tommy.

"I thought you said this was neutral ground! It's suppose to be private," He demanded, completely ignoring the fact he, himself had just threatened you on the very same neutral ground.

"It is. Or it's fucking suppose to be. I have no clue what's going on," Tommy replied, just as concerned. He should have known Alfie would play dirty. He hadn't counted on you doing it either though.

"But it's just that Mr. Changretta," clasping your hands together, you started towards the Italian man again, having no fear of getting shot. "As I told my brothers earlier, 'If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed.' And I promise, Alfred Solomons hates both of you."

Luca huffed and narrowed his eyes. "I suppose this was your doing too?"

"Of course. See that 'you' is spelled without an 'me'.....and me, well I, have a very good relationship with a certain man's dog. And it is just amazing what a man will do when his dog likes you."

No one spoke so you continued. Though your face remained composed in an accomplished grin, you were almost bouncing on the balls of your feet due to your excitement. Your plan was going very nicely. Laughing, you carelessly spun around once, observing the mass of boxes and boats and building around you.

"They're amazing are they? Snipers? Could shoot your hat off from half a mile away and you'd have never even heard the shot. Do you know how many snipers during the war were Jews? I don't, but I understand that Mr. Solomons employee a decent number of them. And when my dear friend heard of this whole marriage ploy?.....Well he righteously shared my outrage and offered to help me." Now you had taken to walking circles around your target. Now Luca realised that it was in fact you who had all the power, since the moment his tires hit the yard's ground. "And luckily for you, I did manage to curve his "help" from something a little bit less...murdery? Perhaps. After all, I do prefer to avoid violence if I can. There are so many more civilised methods than that...And finally we settled on this. The 'official engagement' taking place in this very yard, where I politely ask you to rethink your offer. And if you don't, we try to renegotiate.... and if you don't agree to that.... well. Luca you were wrong earlier..... I have far more than three men. All of who are very inclined to keep me safe. Now they've been instructed not to injury unless necessary, but that doesn't mean they can't give a warning shot. It doesn't mean they have to either. They were being very very nice just now. And you can't see them, but I promise they've had their sights on you for a while now. Why not give them a smile and then I'll tell you how this is gonna go." You opened your arms wide as if showing off everything. Luca just watched chewing on the half of his toothpick that remained.

"How what's gonna go?" It actually wasn't Luca who spoke up. Nor was it your brothers. One of Luca's men, had asked the question. You turned and smiled at the man nodding you head once as if pleased that someone was participating. Luca made a mental note to beat the man later for encouraging you.

"See I really don't want to marry you. I don't love you. I don't even know you. There's also the fact you threatened everyone I love. But I also understand you and my brothers' small minds are incapable of imagining deals involving anything other than fighting or fucking and I don't particularly want to do either of those things with it right now. So I've come up with a new plan and who knows, maybe it'll work out in everyone's favour. Are you ready to hear it?" You paused waiting for a response. When none came you raised and eyebrow and made a point of glancing towards a rooftop over Luca's shoulder. "Do you want to know how this will work Luca?"

"Fine."

"Perfect! So you WILL take back your little finger paintings, but I will NOT be marrying you anytime soon. However, for the good of our families I am presenting another option. Luca Changtetta, I will NOT marry you on a whim, but," You paused for a moment for dramatic effect, waiting until Luca tilted his head. "Should you agree... I will let you take my hand in courtship for one year. And I promise it will not be easy for you. If you manage to whoo me, the you can have your marriage. If not.... Well then I should hope by that day we are close enough friends to put the past behind us and everyone can go their separate ways."

Luca tilted his head in confusion, "What?"

Bloody hell, this man needed to pick up a romance novel. Huffing slightly your reworded your demands.

"Luca, you have a year to date me and make me fall in love with you. If you do I'll marry you. If not the you have a whole year to give up or come up with a better plan than killing everyone. Got it?"

"Why the fuck didn't you just say that in the first place? And what if I don't want to court you?"

"Because I didn't wanted to. And if you don't want to play then you can give up now or let the snipers play target practice."

Luca nodded his head and thought for a moment. The right choice was obvious as the fact that you were crazier than Alfred Solomons. After all, first you were threatening to kill him for trying to marry you, and now he had a year to change your mind. Luca's hand was still wrapped around his gun and he had half a mind to use it. The only thing keeping him from shooting you was the fact he knew, he'd have at least five bullets in him before he pulled the trigger. The obvious choice was to walk away now and give up the vendetta. You had just told him he could stop and you all could go your separate ways. No one else would have to die. All he had to do was give up, admitting you'd outsmarted him. He'd have to admit that you did hold all the power.

"Well, Mr. Changretta? What do you think of my proposal?"

Luca didn't like admitting anyone else had the power... Even if looked very good on you. And so his choice was made.

"I suppose I better learn your favorite type of flower amore."

"Whatever kind you're most allergic to Romeo"

.....

And so it began...

#peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #luca changretta #peaky blinders #luca changretta x reader #Luca changretta imagine #shelby sister #shelby sister imagine

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thatswhywelovegermany · 1 month

Text

Frau Gauden

In the German region of the Prignitz, Frau Gauden (Mrs. Gauden) is the leader of the Wild Hunt. She leads this army of supernatural hunters together with her 24 dog-shaped daughters.

The Wild Hunt, also known as the Wild Army or the Wild Ride, is the German name for a folk tale widespread in many parts of Europe, particularly in the north, which usually refers to a group of supernatural hunters who hunt across the sky. The sighting of the Wild Hunt has different consequences depending on the region. On the one hand, it is considered a harbinger of disasters such as wars, droughts or illnesses, but it may also refer to the death of anyone who witnesses it. There are also versions in which witnesses become part of the hunt or the souls of sleeping people are dragged along to take part in the hunt. The term “Wild Hunt” was coined based on Jacob Grimm’s German Mythology (1835).

The phenomenon, which has significantly different regional manifestations, is known in Scandinavia as Odensjakt (“Odin's Hunt”), Oskorei, Aaskereia or Åsgårdsrei (“the Asgardian Train”, “Journey to Asgard”) and is closely linked to the Yule season here. The reference to Wotin/Odin in the name Wüetisheer (with numerous variations) is also clear in the Alemannic and Swabian dialects; In the Alps, people also speak of the Ridge Train. In England the train is called the Wild Hunt, in France it is called Mesnie Hellequin, Fantastic Hunt, Hunt in the Air, or Wild Hunt. Even in the French-speaking part of Canada, the Wild Hunt is known under the term Chasse-galerie. In Italian, the phenomenon is referred to as caccia selvaggia or caccia morta.

The Wild Army or the Wild Hunt takes to the skies particularly in the period between Christmas and Epiphany (the Rough Nights), but Carnival, Corporal Lent and even Good Friday also appear as dates.

Christian dates have superseded the pagan dates, which see the Wild Hunt moving, especially during the Rough Nights. This period of time is assumed to be originally between the winter solstice, i.e. December 21st and, twelve nights later, January 2nd. In European customs, however, since Roman antiquity, people have usually counted from December 25th (Christmas) to January 6th (High New Year).

The ghostly procession races through the air with a terrible clatter of screams, hoots, howls, wails, groans and moans. But sometimes a lovely music can be heard, which is usually taken as a good omen; otherwise the Wild Hunt announces bad times.

Men, women and children take part in the procession, mostly those who have met a premature, violent or unfortunate death. The train consists of the souls of people who died “before their time”, that is, caused by circumstances that occurred before natural death in old age. Legend has it that people who look at the train are pulled along and then have to move along for years until they are freed. Animals, especially horses and dogs, also come along.

In general, the Wild Hunt is not hostile to humans, but it is advisable to prostrate yourself or lock yourself in the house and pray. Whoever provokes or mocks the army will inevitably suffer harm, and whoever deliberately looks out of the window, gaping at the army will have his head swell so much that he cannot pull it back into the house.

The first written records of the Wild Hunt come from early medieval times, when pagan traditions were still alive. In 1091, a Normannic priest named Gauchelin wrote about the phenomenon, describing a giant man with a club leading warriors, priests, women and dwarfs, among them deseased acquaintances. Later references appear throughout the High and Late Middle Ages.

#mythical creatures in germany

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cerastes · 6 months

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It's a point countless others have already chimed in, but it does make me clench my fists not in anger, but out of pity, a bit when people say "The Divine Comedy was fanfic ahahaha" what Dante did was compose the way Busta Rhymes raps: In an incredibly complex manner. Except, while Busta does a song, Dante did an entire doorstopper of a book entirely in Terza Rima, which is the Italian equivalent of the escaping the Samsara just to show you could and then willingly reinserting yourself in it. Terza Rima is a complex rhyme scheme, and the entire damn book is written in it, something that becomes completely non-appreciable in other languages, except for the foreword of whoever translated any given version being something to the very polite effect of "I have no clue how he did an entire book of this, you will never understand the sheer testicular elephantitis of Dante Alighieri, just read the damn thing, I can't explain to you exactly how fucked up the original is" which obviously doesn't carry the same gravitas of 800-900 pages of rhyming in a specific style while telling the populace how you're besties with The Coolest Dude who took you on The Coolest Field Trip, and the trip was so cool that a lot of people just assumed it was canonical to the Bible Extended Universe, much to the dismay of men of the cloth all over.

I get comparing the self-insert/self-indulgent part, but I feel a bit of fist-clenching pity seeing an otherwise overarching, generalized comparison between "famed poet activated all of his syndromes and forgot to hold back to craft the weirdest combination of lyricism ever put on hardcover" and "form known mainly as the perfect marriage between the author wanting to see two characters from a show kiss and the author wanting to project trauma and/or touch starvation through popcorn prose", the latter of which is whatever and I don't mind in a vacuum and by itself, but does get a bit goofy if compared as intimately as the statement suggests with the former.

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rippleberries · 5 days

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I'm 99% sure this is the role that got Jeffrey Combs cast as Herbert West.

He frequently tells the story that a casting director approached him for the role after seeing him perform a similar character in a play. Based on the date of this article and the description and appearance of Jeffrey's character, this must be it.

LA Weekly [Los Angeles, CA], 13, September 1984, p. 114

[BEGIN IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION]

PICK OF THE WEEK

PVT. WARS

James McClure's play about three men in a veterans' hospital receives a near- flawless production under John C. Fletcher's impeccable direction. Though the play's three characters are survivors of Vietnam, this story has nothing to say about that war, or even about the nature of man and his military, other than the vague sanctioning of an individual's right to fight "private wars" of conscience. Rather, the emphasis is upon one of theater's most enduring situations, the heterosexual male triangle. Woodruff Gately is a hick grunt who now spends his time putting together a radio while two other patients vie for his attention and loyalty: Silvio, an Italian-American emasculated by shrapnel, and Natwick, a prissy rich kid hated by everyone but the affable Gately. Silvio's main form of recreation is flashing his nonexistent genitals to the nurses; Natwick's grasping for poetry leads him to a pathetic evening of failed suicide attempts. Both men make Gately's task infinitely more difficult by secretly stealing pieces from his radio, partly to assert their "superiority" over him, partly to insure his stay at the hospital.

Originally written as a one-act, McClure has expanded - and somewhat overextended - his play to two acts, using a lot of blackouts that fail to tighten the dramatic thread as they progress. It's a simple script with a pat metaphor (the radio as Gately's attempt to construct order in a fragmented world), but with enough. sincerity and concern for its characters to overcome its deficiencies. Gregory Grove is touching without being sappy as Gately, Tony Campisi wonderfully vulnerable as the blustering Silvio, and Jeffery Combs is perfectly brittle as the unpopular prig Natwick. Together the three reveal moments that are both refreshingly sad and funny in their depiction of men whose overriding need is to be heard by other men. Zephyr Theater, 7456 Melrose Ave., W. Hlywd.; Thurs.-Sun., 8 p.m.; thru Oct. 7. Call 851-3771. -Steven Mikulan

[END IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION]

#jeffrey combs #herbert west #private wars #natwick #james mclure #newspaper article #it is weyounsday my dudes

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mandu-17 · 8 months

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Propose | Kim Yoohyeon x fem! reader

Warnings: kidnapping, manipulation, cursing, mentions of drinking alcohol, brawl

Genre: Angst with a happy ending, a bit of comedy here and there, Mafia AU

Wordcount: ~ 4,175

A/N: i had this written down long time ago tbh and when i heard dreamcatcher’s propose i thought i’d share it with you cause the lyrics kinda matches👀 let me know what you thinkk

You remember very vividly the day your whole life changed. It didn’t feel real, just a few days ago you’d been a normal young woman working at this Italian restaurant as a waitress and then suddenly you found yourself dragged into mafia’s dirty world. A huge misunderstanding. You’d never expect that tall, gorgeous short-haired woman to be a mafia member. You’d never expect Yoohyeon - that was her name - to be spying on you.

When she walked into the restaurant for the very first time and directly asked your colleague for you to get her order, you couldn’t believe it. Despite being shy, you felt beyond happy about an attractive, charming stranger wanting to have an encounter with you out of all other waitresses and waiters. You didn’t question Yoohyeon’s flirting or her curious eyes glued to your figure even while you were serving other customers. It seemed okay, more than that actually. You liked being the centre of her attention.

Yoohyeon visited restaurant few more times, always getting a Margarita from you. She’d take her time drinking it while admiring the surroundings and simply walk away after winking your way. She was generous, tipped you a lot which was another reason why you were so fond of her.

That day, there was an accident, someone drunk barged into restaurant. He kept yelling at one of the customers accusing him of lying and stealing money. His whole face turned red from all the anger, alcohol and emotions he’d been dealing with. You coworker Mark, who was also a waiter, tried to ease their nerves and not cause panic in between other guests. Unfortunately, Mark didn’t manage to take control of the situation.

You froze on the spot watching as one of the men, the drunk one, rushed to punch the other nearly sending him off the chair. That’s when even worse thing happened. The other guy started defending himself with a knife which he sneakily took from the table. Mark quickly jumped, truth be told he’d have no chance against them. It was too risky for him to intervene, so he did the only thing he could - called the police.

All of other guests were running out, as the place was slowly being demolished. It was pure chaos. You felt many people pushing through, not caring about your body. You’d almost fall to the floor as well if it weren’t for someone grabbing your wrist and pulling into themselves forcefully, yet there was a subtle tenderness to it.

“Yoohyeon.” You gasped once your hands landed on her shoulders for some support.

“It’s dangerous here, Y/N. We need to go.” The look in her eyes was so intense that you had to really push yourself in order to glance around. Almost everyone else had ran away. Yohyeon was right. You needed to find a safe place and wait for the police.

With a tight grip on your hand Yoohyeon led you outside. Something about her calm aura and confidence let you feel safe. You began to scan her body, she had great physics. Strong muscles currently covered by suit pants and a white shirt. Her face remained almost neutral, except for the gentle frown on her forehead. It only made her more attractive in your eyes, though.

Outside, you found a bit less crowded space a few meters away from the restaurant’s entrance. While you stayed focused on the situation in front of you, you missed the way Yoohyeon nodded at someone behind you.

“I’m sorry.” She suddenly said quietly.

“For wha-”

You woke up in a dark room which kind of reminded of a warehouse. Panic in your eyes, as you glanced around. Did you just get kidnapped?

It didn’t sit right with you.

“Finally.” Your head snapped in the direction of the voice.

“Long time no see, huh?” A tall, dark-haired woman addressed you, a satisfied smirk present on her face.

“What? What is going on? It’s a misunderstanding.”

“Don’t play innocent now, Karla. You really thought you’d get away with everything you’ve done to me?”

Karla? Who the hell was Karla?

“I am not Karla, I swear. You got the wrong person. I’m Y/N.” The woman in front of you laughed at your shaking voice.

“I have to admit, you’ve always been a good actress.” She took slow steps towards you, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “But you won’t fool me again.”

You gulped the second she knelt in front of you to look you straight in the eyes.

“I can prove it. I have no idea who Karla even is. You got the wrong person. Believe me please.”

Woman’s head tilted to the side, that’s when you finally spotted Yoohyeon leaning against the wall. Her hands behind her back, as she watched the scene with that small frown.

“Yoohyeon! What did you do?! You know I’m not Karla!” Your eyes met, but there was no empathy in hers. She stared at you blankly.

“Yoohyeon only fulfilled my order which was to catch you, the hacker.” Woman in front of you held up a picture of... someone very similar. You had to admit she looked just like you although you’d never wear her clothes. Nevertheless, your eyes widened in shock.

“I-I-That’s not me, I swear. She looks almost identical, but really it can’t be me. I’m just a waitress and a student during weekends. Yoohyeon knows it!”

You so badly wanted another girl to take action and agree with you. You thought she was smarter than that. There was no way for you to be involved in mafia’s world.

“Woah, have you already fallen for her? You think she’d like someone like you? Oh, please.”

Angry tears blurred your vision. So that’s why Yoohyeon wanted your attention. She was only fulfilling orders. You understood it when she remained motionless against the wall.

“Yoohyeon.” This time leader’s voice was surprisingly stern, far from amusement she was expressing moments ago. One word was enough for the brunette to immediately approach both of you.

“Yes?” Her cautious eyes focused on the other woman.

“Meet me in my office in ten minutes.”

Yoohyeon nodded as you watched the leader walk away. Apparently, now it was her job to look after you.

“Come on, I’ll show you your room.” Yoohyeon said over her shoulder already on her way out of the room. You hated how empty she sounded like. You hated her current facial expression. Who did she think she was? There was no way she’ll tell you what to do.

“Y/N?” Brunette turned around when she didn’t hear you getting up.

“Fuck you! I’m not going anywhere. You know damn right I have nothing in common with mafia! Why did you do that?! Why did you stay quiet when she was talking to me?” You rose on your feet, angry tears now streaming down your face. Yoohyeon clenched her jaw and quickly approached you while pinning against the nearest wall. You froze in her strong grip, you actually had no chance against her muscular body.

“I am only doing my job, okay? Stop whining and follow me. You’re already causing trouble.” She growled in your ear and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so scared.

Her eyes were piercing through you with so much anger, Yoohyeon’s body tightly pressed against your own didn’t help either.

You really were at her mercy. She could crash you any second. For a short moment the two of you had a silent, intense battle with your eyes. Then Yoohyeon stepped back and once again told you to follow her. You had no choice. Slowly you dragged your feet behind her tall figure. While passing through different doors and halls you began to wonder how she could be such a good actress.

Just days ago, God - you didn’t even know how long you’d been there for, Yoohyeon was sending you all these winks and smiles. How could you be so naive? How could you let her manipulate you so easily? This new side of Yoohyeon, her true side that you were now following made your stomach sick. You were terrified of what she was truly capable of.

~ About an hour later ~

Sitting on the floor with your back against the wall you were looking around your new room. There had to be a way to escape. Yoohyeon left you there before heading to her leader. She told you to ‘wait and behave’.

How nice of her, you thought sarcastically.

You sighed and curled your legs against your chest. Hunger was slowly getting at you, as well as tiredness. Although there was no way you’d fall asleep in that poorly-arranged place full of old boxes and pallets. The door had a glass in it, but unfortunately it was made out of bullet-proof glass meaning running away through it was close to impossible.

As you kept eyeing the entrance, it suddenly swung open revealing Yoohyeon with a paper bag of what looked like take-out. After closing the door, she knelt down in front of you.

“Hope you like noodles.”

You stared at the bag she put in the middle of your bodies, a frown building on your face.

Wait, what?

She actually sounded kind, too.

“Not hungry.” You turned your head to the side, refusing both her food and conversation. You knew better, they could poison you.

“I know you are, but whatever. It’s not poisoned or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.” Yoohyeon crossed her legs on the floor, her moves remained calm which you took as a good sign. You just had no idea when she’d become aggressive again.

Few seconds of an awkward silence later Yoohyeon spoke again.

“Is it true?” Her voice was really soft, a part of you wanted to believe that she came back to you. “That you’re not Karla and actually have nothing to do with the mafia?”

You met her eyes, aware that Yoohyeon tried to read through you and your emotions - something she was actually very experienced with.

“It is true. I have no idea what’s really going on and this whole situation scares me a lot.” There was a slight crack in your voice. That’s when Yoohyeon’s signature frown came back.

“That mean Karla has doppelgangers. I think that’s the case and you’re simply a victim of hers.” Short-haired nodded to herself, her gaze seemed a bit distant now as she was trying to put pieces together. “Jiu also thinks it could be a mistake that we got you and not her.”

“What does that mean then? Who’s Jiu?” You looked at her, desperately looking for answers. It was about your whole life at this point.

“Jiu’s the leader, she was talking to you earlier. Still, she’s unsure whether or not you��re only acting innocent so we need to wait for her decision.” She shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Are you kidding me? You’re going to let an innocent person get hurt or even killed because of your leader? Fuck, Yoohyeon! It’s my life on the line here.” This was ridiculous, you just had to raise your voice in frustration.

“Shut up. Yelling won’t fix anything.” One sentence was enough for your eyes to fill with tears again. You hated the woman in front of you, with your whole heart you despised her. “My life’s on the line too, if you weren’t aware. Although, Jiu’d never hurt me. We just have to wait few more days and then we’ll know what’s coming.”

As she finished talking, Yoohyeon gently clapped both her thighs announcing that she was done.

“Eat up.” Her monotonous was back the second she got on her feet.

You couldn’t believe she was real, it was impossible for a human being to be so awful. Eating was now the last thing you could think of.

“You know I’m innocent, right?” Before she left, you asked in a small voice filled with a tiny bit of hope.

Yoohyeon then turned around to analyze your features. Her eyes watched you carefully for what seemed like eternity. She let herself stare at you for a moment longer before finally blinking and gulping. She looked away, you had no idea what was going on in her head.

When she reached out for the doorknob you felt a single tear wetting your right cheek. You were convinced that there was no rescue for you, no escape.

She let out above the whisper, but she knew you could hear her.

“I know.”

~ The next day ~

Despite trying your best to stay awake in a foreign, dangerous place, your eyes fell closed eventually. You were completely worn out and mentally exhausted. There were no windows in the room so you had no idea what time it even was and for how long you were asleep.

It was Jiu who woke you up this time.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” She addressed you noticing your body laying on the cold floor. All your muscles were sore because of how uncomfortable your position was. Anxiously, you looked up at her smirking face. “Come on, we’ll have some fun somewhere else.”

With a gulp, you got onto your shaky legs. You had no choice but to follow her. Like a prisoner.

Few minutes later Jiu told you to take a seat on a wooden chair, as she sat down on the other side of the enormous desk. Interrogation began.

The leader kept showing you pictures, most of them being very graphic, but it was the first time you’d seen them. You had no idea who these people, victims were. Even after asking the same questions over and over again, Jiu didn’t believe you. Both of you felt like going crazy. You wanted to be free again and she didn’t really know what to do. Finally, after sighing tiredly, she took her phone and called someone. Jiu spoke shortly, her tone didn’t leave any room to argue.

When a tall, well-built woman came in, you had a hunch where everything was heading to. Especially since she was carrying a baseball bat. They wanted to torture you.

“Handong, look at these.” Jiu’s words made the woman approach the leader immediately. She stood behind her and was analyzing both pictures and documents on the desk.

That was your chance.

You quickly glanced at the massive door before making a decision. You needed to run away, fast.

As if electrified you jumped out of the chair ignoring Jiu’s mad calls and Handong running after you. There was no looking back, as you paced through the huge warehouse. By taking a few random turns, you managed to lose the woman following you. Luckily you found space with no people in it. The only minus was that you didn’t know where to go and what was truly ahead of you. Which is why you totally didn’t expect a sudden set of stairs leading to the basement.

With a groan, you fell down while probably twisting your left ankle. You had no more power in you, no more energy to run. The pain was too overwhelming. The only thing that came to your mind was hiding, so that no one could see you in that long hall.

You crawled behind a huge plastic box filled with some liquid and hid between it and the wall. If someone was using the stairs, they wouldn’t see you.

Then, all of the sudden, you heard two pairs of steps nearing. One from the above, running and another from down the hall - steady and slow.

“Hey! Have you seen that Karla girl?” This had to be Handong on top of the stairs, but who wsa she talking to?

“No, but try in the garage. I heard someone running there.” Yoohyeon.

Your eyes widened and you did everything you could not to make a sound. While holding your breath, you heard Handong running again in a different direction. You were praying that Yoohyeon would also go somewhere else and not notice you.

You remained quiet, just when you thought she was walking away, her face came into your view as she crouched beside you. In shock, you almost yelped but quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Short-haired was watching you with that unreadable expression before smiling amused.

“Watch out for the stairs next time, will you?”

So she knew it was you, but still told Handong to go somewhere else?

“What? Did you just keep me covered?” You couldn’t believe it.

“I know what I’m doing, okay?” Yoohyeon looked at you expecting an affirmation, one of her eyebrows raised. Simply, you nodded not trusting your own voice anymore. “Let’s go, I’ll bring you back to your room.”

It was very weird. Why would she do that when you were in the middle of talking to Jiu? Shouldn’t she bring you back to her leader?

Confused, you got up but was reminded of your injured leg. Yoohyeon saw you flinching with every step you took, but the moment she opened her mouth you protested.

“I’m fine.” Stubbornly, you followed her.

In response, Yoohyeon rolled her eyes and after two more meters of you still not catching up, she turned around. Wordlessly, she closed the distance between you two and lifted you in her arms. You were beyond speechless when she readjusted your body, making you wrap your arms around her neck in a hurry in order not to fall. She held you in a bridal carry method. Her grip really strong, she didn’t even look like she was struggling with all your weight on her.

“Why are you doing this?” You used the opportunity to study her face. Neutral and bored almost as always. That’s what made her so unpredictable. You never knew what she was thinking.

“Why are you so stubborn?” She asked back.

This time, you rolled your eyes.

You chose to stay quiet for the rest of the way. Truth be told, you kind of felt okay with Yoohyeon holding you like that. Almost safe. You enjoyed the leather material of her jacket and the feeling of her hair brushing against your hand as it bounced along with her steps.

Her smell was also nice, strong yet comforting. Finally, you couldn’t help but stare at her lips. They were so close, barely a breath away. Yoohyeon’s whole body was very warm. The contrast to the air and atmosphere around you.

With a deep sigh you hated to admit it, but you liked being this close to her. You wished you could stay like this for a long time.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Yoohyeon smirked at you, noticing how you were constantly ogling her.

“Very funny.” Your response was quiet and filled with sarcasm as your eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Since she didn’t appreciate your staring and teased you about it you rested your head against her shoulder, almost in the crock of her neck. Your breaths must have tickled her skin as goosebumps slowly appeared. You felt yourself smiling gently.

“You can get off now, you know.” Once again her voice was full of amusement. She just loved making fun of you, didn’t she? Although, you had no idea when you even managed to enter your room.

“Right.” Mumbling, you got on your own feet with a pained expression when your left leg hit the floor. Yoohyeon’s hand stayed on your waist in case you couldn’t find balance, for that you were grateful.

“Let me see it.” She helped you slowly sit down and examined your ankle. You gasped when she turned it in her hand a bit too fast. Nevertheless, her touches were gentle, it didn’t seem like she wanted to hurt you. She even apologized for grasping your leg too hard.

“It’s twisted, I’ll get some bandage. Don’t move it too much, okay?”

It’s not like you physically could.

Moments later, Yoohyeon came back with a bandage and a weird smile playing on her lips.

“What’s so funny?” You frowned when she began to wrap your ankle without a word. She was very delicate while helping you.

“Jiu and Handong are still looking for you.”

Are they dumb? Or is Yoohyeon the insane one?

After all, she’s incredibly brave to go behind her leader’s back like that.

“Are they going to hurt me for running away?” Fear present in your voice as you whispered.

“I’ll take care of it.” Yoohyeon said seriously, your eyes met briefly. It was her way of confirming and keeping her promise. Eye contact.

“I see you haven’t eaten yet?” With a glance at the unopened take-out bag, she finished wrapping your your leg. It felt slightly better already. “What food do you like then? Rice, chicken, pizza?”

“Pad Thai’s fine.”

“We’ll go once it’s all over.” Yoohyeon nodded while standing up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” You blurted out of blue. You had every right to be confused. With Yoohyeon nothing was certain.

“That’s for me to know and for you to...” With a light shrug, she turned around and left.

You shook your head and leaned against the wall. What world was she living in?

That was an excellent question.

Later that day Jiu visited you for the second time. She seemed to lack some of determination she’d had earlier.

“Yoohyeon twisted your ankle?” Was the first thing she said. Her eyebrows raised in disbelief, she looked comical almost.

You opened your mouth to protest, but were fast enough to catch up on what was going on.

“Yes.” You kept your head low in order not to give yourself away.

“That’s a bit weird of her.” Jiu admitted out loud before remembering what she came for in the first place. “Listen, Y/N.”

It was the first time she used your real name. Did she understand that you were not the one she was looking for?

“You’re in danger now. Karla changed her appearance on purpose so she has people who look like her. Which means that you can be targeted by many people.” You looked up to meet Jiu’s eyes. Her face was serious, but since she was warning you like this, it meant that she’ll let you go, right?

“However, just as much as you’re in danger- you’re also lucky.” Jiu sighed upon seeing your lost expression. “You’re lucky Yoohyeon likes you. She won’t let anybody hurt you.”

Now it all made no sense. It was ridiculous for the leader to even be saying such things.

“But she twisted my ankle.” Unsure, you argued causing dark-haired woman to chuckle.

“She lied straight in my face about twisting your leg. I saw how you fell down the stairs on cameras and Yoohyeon still chose to lie about you. You’ll be safe with her.” Something on Jiu’s face changed. Now, she looked like she was having a conversation with a friends or something. Almost like she was giving advises to someone close to her.

Your tongue was tied. You had so many things to ask her, yet you didn’t know where to start.

“A-Aren’t you mad?”

“At her or at you?” Catching you off guard, Jiu sat down next to you.

“Both?” You honestly felt like everyone there was making an idiot out of you.

“I’ve known Yoohyeon since I can remember. I can tell right away when she’s lying or when she likes someone. It’s the first time she behaved like that, though. She’s never tried to protect someone so much.” You looked down feeling your cheeks warm up. “I’m not mad at her for that. I want her to be happy. I’m also not mad at you. Just frustrated, but nothing about it is your fault.”

You nodded acknowledging, but also appreciating her calm voice. Jiu seemed alright.

Now, you were feeling both excited and very nervous about meeting Yoohyeon again.

You had a lot to talk about.

While admiring the first sunset in the last few days you were waiting for Yoohyeon at the back of the old warehouse. Handong was the one who walked you outside. She helped you with the ankle and told you to wait few more minutes for the short-haired.

The second you heard steps coming your way, you turned around. Yoohyeon’s hair was bouncing as she walked towards you, her hands hidden in the pockets of her jacket.

“You up for some Pad Thai?” She asked with that damn smile.

After a nice evening out, she walked you home or more accurately carried on her back. Her strong hands were holding your thighs. Your arms were hugging her neck and you let your body press against her back fully.

“I like your perfume.” You shyly said.

It was now completely dark outside, but you weren’t afraid. Yoohyeon wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You knew that now.

“Thanks, it’s Gucci.” She giggled randomly making you laugh as well. You felt every vibration of hers. Every breath she took.

You wanted to stay close to her forever.

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