whrsmym1nd

[whrsmym1nd]

Podium Princess | LN + CS + CL

Summary: Lando lost a bet, which would have just temporarily damaged his ego, but the problem was that you were the prize that Charles and Carlos desired for one night.

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© thef1diary 2024. do not repost without permission

Warnings: 18+, mmmf, unprotected sex, three men for three holes 🤭, fingering, oral, anal, dp?, filthy as fuck, derogatory terms (kinda), praise, overstimulation, riding.

pairing: lando x fem!reader x carlos x charles

wc: 3.1k

Request: You should totally write a smut about lando sharing his girlfriend with Carlos and Charles after placing in the #australiangp

"You did what?" You asked your boyfriend, wondering if you misheard his words. "I made a bet," Lando responded, but this time with more assurance.

You sat down on the bed in your shared hotel room and asked, "what is it?" Patting the spot next to you, silently indicating Lando to sit down and begin explaining the bet. You've known from the years you've been dating that whenever he places a wager, he eventually loses, but you chose against mentioning it.

He hesitated for a moment but then decided to explain how he ended up in that situation.

The evening began when Lando noticed Carlos and Charles speaking after the qualifying session. He observed they had been spending a lot of time together recently, so Lando obviously had to approach them and disrupt their latest gossip session.

Putting the trio together, one would discover that they never run out of topics to discuss, which is how they found themselves sitting in a car in the parking lot outside their hotel. Carlos suggested that since they were all staying at the same hotel for the weekend, they might as well leave the track together.

However, during the car ride, there was a discussion that quickly brought out the competitive nature that each driver had developed at a young age. "What, you guys don't think I'll win?" Lando asked the Ferrari drivers, slightly offended. This particular topic of conversation started once they discussed the possible winners for the race tomorrow.

Based on the three practice sessions and qualifying, it could be argued that while they all had a fairly nice weekend so far, some were still more fortunate than others. As a result, the Spaniard shook his head, disagreeing with his friend, "mate, I'm starting second tomorrow, which clearly means I have a better chance of winning."

"I was first in fp1," Lando retaliated although they all knew that qualifying in a higher position meant more than topping a single practice session.

"You might have a good chance, but Max is on pole, let's not forget that," Charles reminded his fellow colleagues. Lando perked up at his words, "exactly, so all Carlos needs to do is somehow crash him out of the race so I can win."

Charles laughed at the outrageous plan, but Carlos scoffed, "I won't ruin my chances at a podium for a race you won't win." Noticing Lando's defeated expression, it caused Charles to laugh harder. "Not that I think either of you would win, but let's make a bet," the Monégasque suggested.

"Who do you think will win?" Carlos asked. Charles' dimple deepened as he smiled, "me of course."

This time Lando scoffed, "yeah, sure mate," then he looked at Carlos, "what do I get when I win the bet?"

"This," Carlos stated while holding up his middle finger towards him. Rolling his eyes, he decided, "fine, I'll ask for something when I win, and then you two won't be able to deny it."

"And what do we get if you don't win?" Carlos asked, looking at Charles who was waiting for an answer from Lando.

While Lando was focused on what he would ask for if he won the bet, he failed to consider that Carlos or Charles were more likely to win than him. He would have a one-in-three chance of winning the wager, but Lando hadn't realized the extent of the situation just yet.

"Not that it'll happen but what do you guys want?" He asked only as a formality to actually set the bet.

Carlos was quiet for a moment as he thought of something that would be worthwhile, looking at Charles to see if he had any ideas. Then he thought of it—of you. "Your girlfriend," he simply stated.

It took two seconds for Lando to start laughing, not that it was ever a challenge to do so, but he initially assumed that Carlos was joking. His laughter quickly died down once he didn't hear either driver laugh along with him.

Looking in the backseat at Charles briefly, who nodded in agreement, Lando snapped his head towards Carlos, "what do you mean my girlfriend?"

"It's simple. If Charles or I win, then you have to share your girlfriend for a night, if not, then you don't," he explained nonchalantly.

Lando looked at Charles, "and you agree with him?" He shrugged, then nodded, "she's hot, I wouldn't say no."

He slumped back in his seat, "I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win." While Lando was secure in his abilities, both drivers around him thought he was growing overconfident. "So you agree, that if you don't win, we can have her?"

Nodding it off and waving his hand around, Lando agreed, "yeah, you can."

You were stunned into silence once he finished explaining. Noticing your lack of words, Lando was unsure of your thoughts. "You don't think I'll win?"

You shrugged, "all I'm gonna say is that you have twenty-one other chances to win this season if you don't win this race." You didn't exactly answer his question, but he realized that you weren't opposed or disgusted by the idea either. Pulling you into his lap, he tilted your chin upwards with his fingers and leaned closer for a kiss.

He tightened his grasp on your chin to stop you before you could press your lips against his. "Oh I see, you don't want me to win just so you can be passed around like a slut between my friends?"

"You wouldn't have put me as the prize if you didn't like the idea," you retaliated, smirking as you moved his hand away to finally place your lips on his.

—

You stood among the crowd, cheering for Lando, who took his place on the third step of the podium. As the podium celebrations began, a part of you was also looking forward to the celebrations that would follow later tonight. Lando may have lost a bet, but it was the first bet you were glad he lost.

That is how you ended up in your hotel room with your lover, waiting in anticipation for the other two drivers to arrive. With his trophy set aside, you and Lando were occupied with each other; your eyes closed and head tilted back as he trailed kisses down your throat.

Then came a knock on the door, one that made your heart race in all the best ways. Lando stood up and opened the door, revealing Charles and Carlos standing on the other side, still dressed in their Ferrari polos from earlier that evening.

"What did he say? I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win," Charles greeted by mocking Lando's words from the day before. "Alright, alright I get it but I still placed third," he retaliated which earned a nod from Carlos. "Congrats, cabrón."

You could hear them laughing among themselves, but it quickly died down once Carlos and Charles spotted you. Lando had suggested that you should wear red, considering both of the drivers that placed first and second adored red.

There you sat on the mattress, leaning back on your forearms with an ankle crossed over the other, clad in only a tight short red dress which you were glad you ended up packing.

"Well, fuck me," Charles muttered under his breath earning a chuckle from you once you heard his comment. Standing up and slowly stepping towards them, you replied, "fuck me indeed."

Your gaze was fixated on Carlos, the race winner, whose eyes revealed a glimpse of all the dirty thoughts racing through his mind. "Congratulations, you both deserve a good celebration," you said, smiling as you felt Carlos' arm snaking around your waist and Charles' breath fanning your face.

"Is that what you're going to give us? A good celebration?" Charles asked, his lips grazing your cheek. "I'll give you anything you want."

You looked at your boyfriend for a second, making sure he was still comfortable with the situation before proceeding any further. But you just saw desire in his eyes and while the corner of his lip curled up in a lazy smirk, a nod from him allowed you to carry on. He may have nodded at you, but his eyes darted over your head to his fellow drivers, "Go on then, Carlos, Charles, claim your prize."

Your lips parted slightly, marvelling at the fact that Lando hadn't even addressed you, instead treating you like an object to be claimed. The worst part was realizing that you liked it since his remarks had made you clench your thighs together.

Carlos grinned at your obedient behaviour as he was easily able to tip your head back to face him. Now that they truly had the freedom to do anything they wanted to you, with your permission, neither felt bad for having sinful thoughts about you—their best friend's girlfriend—while Carlos and Charles were alone in their bedrooms.

Kissing you with a sense of urgency, Carlos stole your breath away in a matter of seconds. Your thoughts had quickly dissipated into thin air as you felt Charles trailing his fingers up your body while pressing up behind you.

You heard Lando shuffle around before leaving the three of you alone in the bedroom for a moment which only intensified your feelings. Sandwiched between the two men who are good friends of yours, were now looking at you as if you are merely an outlet for their sexual desires.

Sliding down the straps that held your dress up, Charles continued kissing every inch of your bare skin revealed to him. His hands rounded to your front, pulling down the flimsy piece of fabric to display your tits to the duo. Your nipples instantly pebbled as Charles' fingers brushed against them, making you tilt your head back and resting it against his shoulder.

Letting you regain your breath, Carlos moved down to your neck, replacing each kiss Lando had placed earlier with small nips and grazes of his teeth, just painful enough to still be pleasurable.

While both their mouths were occupied, the Spaniard's hands pushed down the rest of your dress to the floor, parting away for a moment to let you to step out of it and toss it to the side with your feet.

Lando returned to the room, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth to prevent a moan from leaving his mouth. You were now completely bare, with two fully clothed drivers—his friends—pressed against you while their hands roamed all over your body.

Discarding his shirt on the floor, he occupied your mouth with another kiss, muffling your moans. "Fuck, enjoying yourself, baby?" Lando muttered once you parted away for a moment. Nodding, you opened your mouth to respond but a sharp gasp left your mouth as you felt Charles' fingers teasing your clit while Carlos palmed your ass.

"Merde, she's so perfect," the Monégasque commented, spreading your pussy with two fingers while a third finger swiped through your folds to catch the wetness that gathered between. "Charles," you breathlessly whispered, a plead for more.

"So ready to be ruined," Carlos added, his own fingers prodding your ass, earning a string of curses along with pleas to keep going from you. Gathering your slick from your cunt, Carlos coated his fingers to ease just the tip of one finger into your ass.

Soon enough, you were laid down on the bed, and one by one the three men stripped their clothes away, adding to the ever growing pile that started from your dress. You could barely keep your eyes open due to the feeling of three pairs of hands roaming everywhere, not leaving any inch of your skin untouched.

You had already orgasmed twice, but you couldn't remember whose fingers brought you over the edge the first, or even the second time, as all of the sensations mushed together in what felt like one never ending wet dream.

Staying true to your words of giving them anything they desired, you moaned around Carlos' cock as Charles slid his dick in your pussy without any forewarning. Your grasp on his thighs tightened as Charles began to thrust, slowly at first but then showed no mercy once his grasp on your hips tightened.

Carlos pulled your mouth off his cock, but quickly replaced the emptiness you immediately felt with two of his fingers resting heavily on your tongue. His actions didn't allow you to close your jaw, causing you to drool down your chin, and only then he was satisfied.

"Such a good fucking girl," he commented, which only made your head spin further while you smiled at the compliment. "Oh she likes that," Charles added as he felt your pussy clench around him at Carlos' praise.

His fingers that were now coated with your saliva trailed down your body to where you and Charles were connected. He nodded mockingly at his teammate's comment, "yeah, you like being praised?"

Easily finding your swollen clit, he slightly pinched it before creating small circles, edging you closer. You nodded, "please, please, please." You were sobbing for relief, your voice strained from the constant cries that left your lips with each new wave of ecstasy.

Connecting their gaze, Charles and Carlos smirked as they silently agreed to let you cum once again. Charles's fingers slid closer to your back hole, this time able to slide two fingers down to the last knuckle. At the same time, Carlos' fingers left your clit only to join the thrusts of Charles' cock, scissoring two of his fingers in your pussy to stretch you out even further. Pleasure surged through your body, and you closed your eyes tightly at the sudden sensation of being so full.

Charles slowed down his thrusts, prolonging your post orgasmic sensation. You slumped forwards when he pulled out, still holding back his own release for now.

Despite still being eager, they were ever patient with you especially after bringing you over the edge multiple times now, knowing your limbs were close to tiring out.

Still on your hands and knees, you shuffled up to straddle Carlos, sinking down on down cock this time, mouth dropping open as he stretched you out slightly differently compared to Charles.

"C'mon, cariño, ride me," he instructed, resting his hands on your hips, urging your movements while also allowing you to depend on him for help. "You feel so good, Carlos," you panted.

You heard some shuffling around you again but you couldn't move your gaze away from watching your pussy engulf Carlos' cock over and over again.

However, you were startled once you felt a cool sensation prodding your ass; Charles' fingers coated in lube. "Need you to relax, baby," you could hear Lando's words and he was quick to come into your view, stroking his dick to the sight of you filled by his former teammate.

He grabbed your hand off of Carlos' shoulder, guiding it towards his cock. Already slick with his precum, you could easily move your hand up and down, watching his reaction with hooded eyes.

Charles' free hand wrapped around your throat from behind while he whispered in your ear, "we're gonna fill up all of your holes, darling."

Groaning, you nodded, "please," a word that you had repeatedly spoken to the point where it sounded like a broken record. "You want that?" One of them asked, but you couldn't focus on whose voice it was. "Fill me up, please," your words turning into a moan as Carlos shifted underneath you, reaching deeper inside.

Releasing the grasp on your throat, Charles focused on opening you up with his fingers, for you to be able to take his cock in your ass while Carlos continued pounding your pussy.

Lando replaced Charles' hand, grabbing the back of your neck, threading his fingers in your hair to bring you close for a filthy kiss. Tongues and teeth clashing, he slightly bit down on your bottom lip, sucking and pulling on it for a moment before letting go.

Without any words exchanged, your boyfriend guided your mouth towards his cock, filling up two out of three of your holes. It took you a moment before you actually started moving your head up and down, moaning and drooling on his cock because of Carlos' upward thrusts.

Charles removed his fingers, having deemed to have stretched you out enough then coating his dick with a good amount of lube. With one hand palming and spreading your ass, he used the other to guide his cock into you. Your eyes welled up with tears, not entirely painful but almost overwhelmed with being filled everywhere at once.

Your body was quickly calmed down by Lando, Charles, and Carlos as they moved their hands all over you in soothing motions. Charles began thrusting when you nodded because you were unable to speak while Lando's dick was in your mouth.

Your muffled groans sounded distant to you, mind foggy, but you had never felt so full and aware before.

With a warning, Lando filled your mouth with cum, which you swallowed greedily without hesitation. Now, with your mouth unoccupied, you couldn't hold back on your moans. "Gonna cum," you warned, knowing you won't last long, still sensitive from your previous orgasms.

Charles' fingers reached your chest, teasing and pinching your nipples while Carlos rested his palms on your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

Your pace stuttered as you came around his cock, and Carlos took the reins and thrusted upwards, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. "Fuck, where do you want us?" Charles asked, tethering on the edge and based on Carlos' stuttering pace, you knew he was too.

Your next words pushed both over the edge, "inside." Slumping forwards, you felt both Ferrari drivers filling you up with their cum. "Fucking hell, that was hot," Lando commented, leaning closer to brush away the strands of hair stuck on your forehead due to sweat.

Charles and Carlos carefully eased you off their cocks, with Lando helping you lie down on the bed which you immediately melted into.

It was unbearable for you to be completely empty after being entirely filled. Mustering up all your strength, you held your arms out for your boyfriend, who immediately joined you on the bed, whispering praises in your ear.

Meanwhile, Carlos and Charles decided to clean you up by wiping the cum that had leaked out of your holes with a damp towel. They saw the bruises from their grasps on you in the heat of the moment and couldn't help but smile, knowing they were the cause of it.

You hoped, as you drifted off to sleep, that the three of them would share the podium more frequently, and therefore, share you as well.

Taglist based on the form (let me know if you would like to be removed) @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @evlkking @jointhehunt67 @wonnou @nikfigueiredo

[whrsmym1nd]

Never Mix Business With Pleasure - LN

A request from @luvrrish

Summary: After a disappointing one night stand, y/n finds her new boss is the man behind the disappointment. She'd spared him the knowledge till a staff night leads to an indirect admission that she's faked an orgasm. Out of some pride, Lando has to know if she did with him.

Themes: Smut (eventually), nipple piercing (is back bby)

No part 2 requests please

Y/n had known she'd recognised Lando, but a couple drinks deep into the night. She really couldn't think straight other than the man was surely worth having between her legs.

Turns out she only wanted him between her legs till he got there.

Not that he was...bad. But more accurately...selfish.

Admittedly, she snuck out of there as soon as he was snoring beside her. Not entirely her brightest of ideas. But she really felt no appeal of sticking around for an awkward morning after.

What she didn't expect was a week later for her to find him at the head of the table leading a meeting at her new job.

Now y/n is an adult she can have a one night stand and it not be awkward. Especially since she's almost certain that he has no idea she faked it.

"Y/n, can we just have a chat?" Lando asks when Max calls the meeting to an end, though Lando's best friend looks at him suspiciously since usually Lando doesn't bother to invest his time in new employees.

"Uh-Yes, yes. Of course." Y/n confirms before the rest of the room leaves and closes the door.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're...not uncomfortable working here-"

"Mr Norris, you're my boss and our one night stand happened before my official employment start date. I am more than capable of maintaining a professional relationship with you as I'm sure you are with me. It's only the two of us who know and we're adults, I'm sure that we can get over having seen each other naked." Y/n smiles trying to maintain as cool and unbothered an attitude as possible while keeping herself professional.

"Yeah right, I just...wanted to make sure you were comfortable. And everyone here kind of builds a friendship so just call me Lando. Mr Norris is...professional but too professional for me."

"Right, Lando. Anyway, I know you need to get off. So I'll not keep you."

-

Y/n did make friends with everyone at Quadrant. She also really found this to be the best job she's ever had.

Thankfully, Lando has such a busy schedule beyond Quadrant. He's not there nearly as often as she had originally anticipated and when he is, neither of them struggle.

Although it has only been 2 weeks.

"I bet y/n has some secrets. We can get out of her." Ria comments when the game of never have I ever is thrown out as part of the gathering.

It was meant to be for staff, but there was definitely a few plus ones who had beefed the group up and quite a few that y/n didn't know.

"Secrets? I'm an open book." Y/n laughs while swallowing back a mouthful of water since she's determined to not end the night anything more than tipsy.

They each go about saying a never have I ever, some of them going for boring safe options and some of them going for the spicier variety.

"Alright, this one is for the ladies...and maybe the men. Never had I ever faked an orgasm." Max states seeming to watch his own girlfriend who takes a small sip making the room burst into laughter.

"It wasn't with you." She assures him with a pitiful pat that seems to be more of a "I'm trying to save you while also being honest in front of your friends".

Y/n and Ria actually cheers as they also take a mouthful of their drinks.

Y/n really didn't think to check if Lando was watching her, it hadn't struck her that he might be or that he might even care. After all he certainly didn't in the moment. So the idea he would now never crossed her mind.

The game goes on before people eventually get bored or too drunk to focus.

Y/n ends up deciding to be one of the first to leave, though it's not as if she's leaving early. It's near enough 1 in the morning.

"I was going to leave too. I'll give you a ride." Lando states catching up to her as she pulls on her jacket at the doorway, the suggestion of him driving her making her frown. "I haven't been drinking-well one drink, but nothing strong."

"I don't know if we're going in the same direction. I could walk to my place from here." Y/n murmurs since there's something about Lando's expression that makes her feel like there's a reason he rushed to leave early. "It's only about a 15 minute walk really."

"Well it'll be even quicker and warmer in my car." Lando smiles making her look at him for a moment before she nods.

"Yeah, you're right." Y/n nods before following him out.

He's got one of his expensive ass sports cars that she could maybe afford if she spent the rest of her life not spending a penny on anything, not even food, and then worked till she was 150. Then she might be able to afford a second had version.

"You look annoyed." Lando comments making her furrowed brows quickly raise themselves while he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. "Actually I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh ok." Y/n nods feeling herself get a little nervous.

Lando might not be as involved in the day to day workings of Quadrant as she'd thought when she realised he is her boss. But he is still her boss, if he decides she's not performing well enough then he is well within his rights to fire her.

Fuck.

"Back when we were playing that game, you drank when Max asked if anyone had faked an orgasm." Lando states keeping his eyes trained perfectly on the road.

"Yeah." Y/n confirms suddenly gritting her teeth at the feeling of where this conversation is going to go. "I mean I think all women have."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I just...did you with me?"

How fast is he going? To fast for her to open the door for a jump, tuck and roll manoeuvre?

This is not a conversation she wants to have with any man, much less a man who turned out to be her boss. But something tells her she won't believe her if she lies.

"Yeah, I did." Y/n admits watching his knuckles turn white from his grip on the steering wheel. "It's-Well I was a bit drunk, it's harder for me when I've had a drink."

Not entirely a lie, but also not exactly the truth. She tends to last a bit longer while drunk but it doesn't stop her from getting there.

"You don't have to lie to save my feelings." Lando states making her sigh. "I could make it up to you."

"Lando, that's really not necessary." Y/n tries since she isn't looking to make a man insecure. "It's not as if every woman ever has faked with you. It's just...sometimes it's easier."

"But I'd like to make it up to you." Lando stresses making her sigh again. "It doesn't have to be tonight...what if...I took you on a date?" Lando tries making her almost jerk her head back in reaction.

"You want to take me on a date?"

"I mean I would be up for it tonight, but I feel like it might be awkward now." Lando murmurs earning a small smile.

"That's true...Well you have my number, you can call me with plans and I definitely won't turn you away." Y/n states softly making Lando finally manage a small smile.

Y/n directs him to her apartment before she does give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek goodbye.

-

There was a few date ideas that y/n had. Lando flying her out to join him on one of the race weekends was really not on the list.

"This is insane." Y/n murmurs to herself as Lando walks in behind her.

He'd made sure she flew with him on the jet and pulled out all the stops for her in addition to that. She's never felt so well off in her life.

"You alright?" Lando asks making her turn and look at him for a moment.

"Yeah, just...it's the nicest hotel I've ever been in." Y/n laughs lightly before feeling his hand on the small on her back. "I feel like I'm underdressed just for a lobby."

"You're fine." Lando assures her with a small laugh before he moves them to the reception desk and checks them in then starting to guide her to the lift as he sorts through the keys. "I got them to give us a suite with an adjoining room. Just so you got your own space."

"So am I here to call you my boss or just...a one night stand redemption?" Y/n asks trying to ease her own tension.

"Neither of those sound great." Lando hums as the lift appears and they step in. "Just call me your...date."

"My date." Y/n echoes then smiling at him in slightly approval.

-

Lando really doesn't want to rush y/n into having sex, even if he's determined to show that he's not some inexperienced idiot who has no concept of the female body.

Admittedly, he didn't put his all into the first time they had sex. But the idea of her faking an orgasm just made him feel sick to his stomach for some reason.

He took her to play golf, then out for a meal and they were nearing the end of being able to stretch out the meal any longer.

"We should probably go. You've been looking at me like I'm the next course for a while now." Y/n comments trying to hide her smile.

Lando decides not to comment since maybe his thoughts have been slightly more x-rated selection. Though he genuinely thinks he can't be blamed, y/n dressed to impress and she achieved that and more. But he's not about to make this about him at all.

He manages to get the check and pay for everything before they head out.

"I've never been so lavished before sex. This must be what sugar babies feel like." Y/n jokes before clearing her throat when she realises that might not be a joke he's very happy to be a part of.

"I hope it doesn't actually feel like that." Lando laughs lightly as the valet appears with his car.

"No." Y/n confirms with a soft smile as the second valet opens the door for her and they both climb in. "Now I just have to trust that I am getting an orgasm tonight."

"You think I'm stopping at one? That's bold." Lando comments making her pause for a moment.

"How many are you stopping at?" Y/n chokes out not expecting it to have had to be a question between them.

"You'll just have to wait and find out." Lando shrugs innocently but the smirk speaks for itself and actually, whether it's the intended affect or not, she's not sure but it sort of turns her on.

When they get to the hotel, Lando again hands his car over to the valet before quickly moving around and dismissing the valet about to help y/n out of the depth.

"Thank you." She smiles as he quickly leads her inside.

Admittedly the anticipation that should be making this all so awkward is actually just making her more eager. His promise of multiple orgasms definitely makes her feel a little more eager to get to the hotel suite.

It's either going to live up to his promise, fall short or make her figure out a way to really sell her fake orgasm as believable and never tell him that actually it was yet another disappointment.

"You look like you're thinking pretty hard." Lando comments as they step into the lift.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking...what your plan might be." Y/n murmurs earning a small smirk. "I hope you're not about to get performance anxiety."

"No. Definitely not." Lando chuckles, somewhat hating that his hotel room is so high up meaning the lift is taking slightly longer to get them to their floor.

Lando's hand links to her own as they near their floor and just as they step out he manages to gently tug her into a kiss, his hands landing on her waist as they kiss and y/n steps backwards, trusting his guidance.

The room isn't far from the lift so when he breaks the kiss, it's not a long distance later that she finds herself gently pushed into the room in a brief pause.

Lando kicks the door closed and proves that actually when he wants to try, he certainly can seduce a woman with just touch. The touch that's specifically working, is his ability to slide the slinky slip dress off of y/n's body.

The silky material slides down off of her body with ease and she's left with no bra and admittedly some strings worth of underwear. She also steps out her heels as Lando lifts her up to wrap her legs around his waist.

There's definitely a bit of a power play with Lando still fully dressed while she's literally one flimsy and quickly dampening piece of material away from completely naked and exposed to him.

She's placed down on the bed with Lando's lips kissing down her body.

"I definitely did not appreciate your body enough last time." Lando comments, lips brushing her skin as he pauses the kisses moving down her body.

Y/n actually arches up against the soft feeling of his lips before he lifts up and removes his jacket that he's been wearing just for some more movability.

"You know I've tried to keep professional..." Lando admits moving his hand up to her boob, thumb gently rubbing over her piercing making her teeth nibble on her lip. "...but every time I saw you, I kept thinking of this shiny little piece of metal."

"Well, it's fully healed and free use to play with." Y/n smiles shifting to try and stop arching up into his back like she'd doing instinctually.

Lando smirks at her comment before he finally reaches down to the so far neglected area that he's most eager to get access to. He presses his fingers onto her slit through the wet material then having to use his free hand to keep her thighs from closing on him.

"Don't tease." Y/n murmurs impatiently while Lando just remains quiet pushing the fabric aside and testing her wetness before pushing a finger into her and pressing his thumb onto her clit which even to her own admission, she wasn't really expecting him to find or touch with such precision.

He wastes no time pushing a second finger in when he leans forward choosing to pay attention to her nipples too, the feel of a piece of metal between his lips is sort of unfamiliar but the reaction from y/n is a quick pay off, already twitching around his fingers. Feeling the beginnings of her build up towards an orgasm.

His hand is soaked already from her and he's suddenly realising the moans she's producing sound significantly less controlled and more genuine than what he recalls of their previous hook up.

When he finally locates her g-spot that's when things really change, he can feel her body started to tense from underneath him.

Y/n whines a little, feeling the build up starting to near the peak. Lando does let up on her nipples either his mouth on the pierced one and his free hand on the unpierced one. When she completely tenses, arching a little up against him. the moan that escapes her lips and the feeling of her thighs locking to squeeze either side of him might just be better than the feeling of his own orgasm.

She's clamped down on his fingers with a tightness that he's already going to dream about for a long time.

"Fuck." Y/n whimpers when she finally relaxes and melts down onto the bed. "Fuck, Lando."

"That's just the beginning, I told you more than one." Lando chuckles then shifting up to kiss her. "But it's good to know what a real orgasm sounds like from you."

Y/n almost wants to be insulted that her fake orgasm apparently isn't anything like the real thing. But maybe she shouldn't really be insulted by it.

"I've never have multiple orgasms before."

"Happy to be the first to make it happen." Lando smirks then gently blowing on her nipple as he goes back down her body. "Part of my redemption."

Y/n breathes a little, her body shuddering when he gets low enough to see her pussy still pulsing from her first orgasm. She's not even sure what it feels like for someone to give her head after she's already had an orgasm.

"This is going to sound stupid, but I didn't know it was possibly for every part of a person to look so pretty." Lando comments and she's about to say something, only for him to latch his hands onto the top of her thighs before he dives in-between them and licks her up and down. His nose managing to nudge her clit that was still entirely oversensitive at the feeling of pressure on it.

"Jesus christ." Y/n breathes, mainly to herself at the feeling of Lando treating her exactly like she'd joked earlier in that she's the final course of his meal.

Actually it feels like she's completely devoured by the man, she's not sure if the build up is just as quick, slower or faster but she can feel it already and her jaw drops open a little.

"Lando." Y/n whimpers, not being able to stop herself from threading her hand into his hair.

There's something that sort of dawns on Lando as he doesn't let up, he's never cared all that much about a woman's side of the pleasure. Sure it's a great addition and he enjoys giving head, but with y/n there's something much more satisfying.

Maybe it's a point to prove, or maybe it's how good his name sounds being moaned by her.

Her voice wobbles in another moan before she feels her orgasm hit her much harder, and with less of a build up. It hits her, catching her off guard but she's not so sure Lando was as surprised about it. Not that he lets up, hell he seems to extend the length of her orgasm from just keeping going and if her brain didn't feel slightly fuzzy then she might question if he'd even noticed she was hit with the waves of more ecstasy.

She hardly has a moment to catch her breath before he's shifted, finally getting himself undressed as he can't wait any longer to get inside her.

"You ok?" He asks climbing back over her making her nod quickly, seemingly desperate but wordless as she tries to pull him closer.

Really y/n is torn between the temptation of a third orgasm and the fear of what it will actually feel like.

When he pushes into her, she reminds her voice enough to moan while he drops his head into her neck trying to keep himself from caving into the urge to really let every ounce of his energy go into her. Not straight away at least.

"Move, move. Please." Y/n whines making him hum before she whines at him then being silenced when he kisses her and begins thrusting in and out of her.

The angle must be working because he knocks her g-spot consistently and she's scrambling for grip, unable to choose between the sheets and latching onto Lando. It's not really any time before her third orgasm hits as she actually cries out holding on tightly to him.

"Oh I'm not done yet, gorgeous." Lando chuckles, though he certainly was close. He managed to hold out. For some reason he just wants to aim for four.

It's his number after all.

Y/n whines trying to latch onto him tightly before holding onto him as he keeps going, but he manages to wiggle free only just so he can roll them over and sit her up to straddle him. He's not getting lazy, he just needs better access if he's going to get the fourth.

After a few thrusts with his hand reaching down to gently press on her clit, it seems to strike her like electricity and she tightens around him so much that he almost feels pain, but he stops fighting his own finish and groans pumping into her with no thought other than he is definitely doing this again if she'll let him.

Y/n falls forward against Lando, breathless and whimpering with every exhale.

"Fuck. Fucking hell, you were holding back on me that much?" Y/n whispers, not quite having found her voice properly.

"Sorry, I promise to never let it happen again." Lando laughs while she hides her face in his neck as he gently strokes her sides. "Take all the recovery time you need."

"I will. Trust me." Y/n groans trying not to think about the sheer amount of sweat and other fluids they're both coated in.

After a while Lando does manage to move her to lie beside him, purely because he wants to at least clean them up a little and get y/n some water.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbles as he wipes her with a damp cloth.

"You really don't need to thank me." Lando sighs shaking his head at her while she smiles lazily. "But if you want to thank me. Another date and significantly more sex like that would be something I'd accept."

"I think I might be able to muster that up." Y/n nods, biting her lip a little as she tries to hide a grin. "Especially when this is the treatment I get afterwards."

"Yeah?" Lando laughs lightly before looking around for the room service menu.

"Yeah." Y/n nods then smiling when he hands her the menu. "Is this for sustenance?"

"I'm a caring man. You need to reenergise." Lando grins then rubbing her tummy.

"So what do I call you now? Just so when I talk to being railed, they know the status." Y/n smiles earning an eye roll. "Just my date?"

"I fucking hope not." Lando grumbles then looking at her for a moment. "Boyfriend, if you're ok with that."

"I think I'm definitely ok with that." Y/n confirms before she let's out a heavy sigh and relaxes down into the soft bed then remembering the amount of fluids on it. "Oh god, we're sleeping in my bed tonight. These sheets are so dirty now."

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05

[whrsmym1nd]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

Carlos Sainz x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, feeling guilty about sexual thoughts, age gap, I think that's it?

Notes: Heyyy, Carlos??? Hope I read this request right! Probably changed it a bit. This is more from Carlos perspective than anything else

Request Don't know if you are taking any requests or not, but how's best friend brother's with Carlos Sainz when suddenly having ons with the reader and Carlos been wondering how having her in his bed

Carlos breathed in the familiar hot air as he stepped out of his car and onto the gravel of his family home. He had finally touched down on home ground and planned to spend the majority of his summer break here.

He smiled to himself as he watched the big house and the green grass. He loved this house, he loved their summers and he was excited to spend some down time with his family.

Ana and y/n should be there already, Blanca maybe but she could also arrive later. His parents weren't home, he knew that already but they would come in an hour or so.

Someone was home at least judging by the open porch door and small talk coming from the other side of the deck.

Carlos walked over the grass, trying to see who was there but he opted to take in his bags first. He had just stepped into the big hallway when he saw a figure from the big window. Ana was there and.. who was that? All he could see was a beautiful woman, hair moving in the wind and a beautiful figure on the deck. Carlos swallowed before moving away, it was rude to stare.

Who was that? Was that.. no it couldn't be Y/n, could it? But who else would be here to stay for the summer. It was always Y/n.

Carlos' mind ran on high speed as he tried to process who else it could be because this was certainly not the Y/n he remembered. No, last summer you had been this, very cute sure, but nerdy little girl who had barely graduated school and was now working at the downtown café whilst studying in university.

You had always been sweet and cute but he had never ever seen you as attractive. No this, this was surely someone else. Maybe one of Blankas work-friends. It could not be you.

Carlos forced the thoughts away as he marveled into the house, his house. It was hot, summer and he was settling for some downtime before the next part of the season began, that was the focus he reminded himself of.

He opted to start on food, eyes flickering back to the garden to try and get a look at whoever it was out there but they had disappeared from the kitchen view. Maybe that was for the better actually.

"Carlos!"Carlos flinched at the sound of his name, too deep in thoughts to realize someone had entered the open kitchen from the patio-doors in the living room.

He turned around with a wide smile as he recognized your voice opening his arms to hug you which you welcomed with a giggle.

His face fell however when he looked at you after you had stepped away. What the fuck had happened over winter?

The before young, teenage-looking girl had really grown into a young looking sure, but gorgeous woman. Face more mature-looking, smile as captivating as always and your body. Carlos had to force himself to look at your face as you were dressed down in only a small skirt and a bikini-top from having been sunbathing and swimming all morning.

Fuck it was you, how?

He quickly averted his eyes from your body to look at your face

"Hola Y/n" he smiled warmly as you hugged him in greeting. "We thought you came but we didn't see you" you smiled as you watched the counter top that was filled with ingredients. "Sorry, I planned on going out but..."

That Ana came out was perfect timing because Carlos had no idea how to finish that sentence. "Carlos! Why didn't you come out to greet us?!" she scolded as she wrapped her brother into a warm hug, Carlos stuttered, what he wanted to say, or the reason for it was not something he wanted to say at all so instead he shrugged. "I was about too" he said instead , ignoring the look Ana gave him and the food on the counter.

Ana dropped it quickly, the excitement of seeing her brother taking over the weird behavior and she soon proceeded to ask him a million questions but it was all like usual with the Sainz siblings.

You were happy, content in stretching out on the sofa and listening to their chat during the evening and when the night came you gladly welcomed the soft bed in the Sainz's guest room.

-

Carlos wanted to hit the person of his family that had suggested a boat day. He loved being on the boat and he loved being with his family and the boat was a tradition in your summers. You used to take the boat out to a small little island only an hour away and spend the day swimming, laughing and grilling before going back home in the evening when the light had already gone away and the city lights illuminated in the water.

However the only thing he could concentrate on all day was you in your tiny little bikini that barely left anything to the imagination. If he was realistic it was a normal bikini, but it was still tiny and he could barely keep his eyes off of you.

When you had been exiting from the water with your hair drenched and dripping with a huge smile on your face he had stared so long that Blanca had hit him in the back of the head with a scolding look and Carlos had coughed, looking away feeling guilty.

It was a nice day, the sun grilling your skin and everyone was happy that summer had finally arrived. Carlos' parents grilled over the open fireplace as everyone settled down, chatting lowly and laughing.

He enjoyed it, laughing and joking with you and his sisters, chatting with his parents. Swimming in the hot sun. It was a great day but when the time came and you decked the boat and walked up to the villa Carlos felt like he would snap off the tension in his body.

-

He still couldn't really grasp it, couldn't grasp how attracted he suddenly was to you.

He groaned as he collapsed down on his bed, his head in an awkward position against the headboard. He let out an annoyed groan and flopped down in an ungraceful movement.

He felt annoyed, tight like a string as he tried to sit more comfortably. He was hard in his sweatpants and that annoyed him more than anything else. He felt ridiculous, like a teenage boy watching a pornmagazine for the first time. All this for only a little bikini, it was ridiculous but he couldn't help it, couldn't make it go away.

He closed his eyes, groaning when the only thing he saw in his head was just in that stupid little bikini. He couldn't help it when his hand crept down his body, his mind telling him it was wrong but the satisfaction he felt when he finally wrapped his hand around his cock pushed away all those thoughts until the only thing he could think about was dirty dreams.

At first the pictures were more okay, if there were something like this in picturing his sister's younger friend while jerking off.

It was you, in that bikini you had stropped around in all day, your smile and your elegant figure. Then it was your lips, then it morphed into your lips wrapped around his cock and from there on he was screwed.

He pictured how you would look as you sucked him off, he could picture the look in your eyes as you would’ve licked over his tip, he could almost hear the sounds you would make as he pushed your head that slight bit further.

He pictured laying you down on his crisp white sheets, pictured how he would pull your legs apart, could hear your moans in his head.

He could almost taste her on his tongue, see her face contorted in pleasure. His mind wandered further and further away from reality as his hand moved up and down his shaft. He would feel guilty, he would feel so guilty afterwards but right now, at this moment he only felt pleasure and his thoughts only added to his arousal.

It was wrong, he knew it, but he didn't feel it. It felt fucking amazing, the pictures, the imaginition he had made him harder than he'd been in a long time.

He pictured your face as he would fuck you, imagining how hot you would feel around him, how tight you would be. He pictured the sounds you would make as he made you orgasm, the picture stuck in his head as he finally released with a long groan, head falling back as the relief finally washed over him.

Only then did the realization hit and he felt disgusted over himself. The cum on his skin added to the sick feeling in his chest. It was not normal. It was disgusting. Jerking off to Ana's best friend who was many years younger than himself just because he'd find out she'd been growing curves. He felt a tight feeling in his stomach, like he would need to throw up. He hurried into the bathroom and jumped into the shower like he was on fire.

His skin was red where he had roughly scrubbed the cum of his skin and he felt slightly better when he dressed in clean clothes and shook the water off his hair. Maybe it was okay.

The guilt however came back full force once he saw you on the sofa with Blanca, gossiping and laughing. He had to look away to swallow the lump in his throat that had formed.

-

You were sprawled out in one of the outdoor chairs next to Blanca in the hot sun. You had just been taking a dip in the ocean and was now drying up on the big deck of the Sainz's house.

"Do you think Carlos has anything against me?" you asked Blanca randomly, noticing the way she jerked up in her chair to give you a wild look.

"Que?! Carlos loves you silly" she waved you off. Summer at Sainz, anything with the Sainz's had been always consisting in your life. You and Ana had met in kindergarten. She was two years older than you but somehow you had stuck together throughout school and then throughout adulthood. You had spent every summer since then here, in the amazing villa with her family. You had traveled with them, watched Carlos's races, you had been a part of them forever so maybe you understood her wild look but still. It had felt like something was bothering him these first couple of days. He had been acting slightly... stiff around you.

"I know... I don't know why but it's just.. he has been so awkward with me, barely spoken to me alone" you shrugged and Blanca hummed. "I think Carlos is having a bit of a crisis" Blanca grinned as she leant back in the soft chair

This time you sat up to give her a look. "What do you mean? Is something wrong with his racing?"

Blanca laughed and shook her head with a huge grin on her face. "No, not about racing" she calmed

"I think little Carlos is having a crisis about how gorgeous you have become" she smiled before adding "You have always been gorgeous, but over the winter..." she made a face expression as if to express the change and you giggled, it was true. You had matured in your body a lot over the winter, felt more comfortable, more secure.

"I don't think that's it though" you hummed, waving it off. Carlos was a formula one driver, he could basically chat up and model he wanted, and have the most gorgeous girls. He had many options, he would never choose you, his sister's friend.

"I think it is, I've catched him staring a bit too long and often. And every time I catch him with a slap on his head he looks extremely guilty"

You giggled at that, leaning back into the seat "I'm pretty happy with that reason to be honest" you smirked at Blanca who shook her head with a grin on her face "Watch it"

-

The next few days were fine, he still got a semi everytime you walked around in your mini bikinis and those shorts that showed all of your ass but he tried to control himself, felt he succeeded okay.

It was on the fourth day he snapped again. You had been taking a walk from the restaurant you had eaten at and stopped to buy ice cream and take a dip in the ocean.

You were yet again wearing only your bikini top and those tiny shorts that felt unnecessary to even have on because they didn't hide anything in Carlos's mind. Your hair was once again wet, dripping down your back and then it was the ice cream.

He knew it was just in his head, but it felt like you were provoking him, licking the tip of it in such a way he almost wanted to moan.

When he came back home he immediately walked up to his room and into the shower. He couldn't stop the images of going wild. Once again you were on the floor looking up at him with those big innocent eyes and licking the tip of his dick just as you had been the ice cream.

He could feel the tip of your tongue, could hear the small sound you surely would make at the taste of his precum that was pearling at his tip, he slid his thumb over it, imagining it was your tongue and he moaned loudly. He gripped his cock harder, slowly moving it down, imaging it was your mouth sinking down on him. The picture was so hot he jerked in his hold.

He sped up eventually, eyes closing to savor the filthy imaginations that were playing in his mind, like a slideshow. He could feel your touch, hear your voice and see you. It was all too much and he soon came over his hand, for the second time thinking about you.

He sighed as he let the water run down his body, cleaning him up and he let his head fall back against the tile. Maybe it was what it was. He would move on eventually, not get hard at the mere sight of you. It would be fine.

Carlos didn't fight it anymore, there was nothing he could do about his body's reaction. He sighed deeply and shrugged to himself. He lost the battle and he was really fucking attracted to you. Maybe that was just how it was now. 

[whrsmym1nd]

happy new year | l. norris

warnings: smut, whole lotta smut, everyone gets head, dirty talk, lando won't shut the fuck up, spitting lol, praise, don’t really know what’s going on half the time

authors note: found this in my drafts from december please enjoy x

31st december 2022, monaco - 11:54pm

“come on mate, get another drink down you,” max fewtrell handed his best friend a jagerbomb, his spare hand resting on landos shoulder, his drunken self unable to stand properly.

lando smiled slightly, before taking the drink and shotting it in one. it had been a few days since him and his girlfriend broke up, and he wasn’t anywhere near over her yet. he didn’t know if he ever would be, judging by how he felt right now. he wanted to be at home, bottle of some 40% spirit in hand and trying to forget.

max wouldn’t let that happen though, forcing him out tonight so he finally left the confinement of his apartment, hoping that the party scene would alleviate some of the stress on landos shoulder.

“come on, there’s so many fit girls here, take your pick,” he slurred, before being pulled away by his girlfriend for the traditional new years kiss.

lando hadn’t realised it was almost midnight, and suddenly he felt his stomach drop at the reminder that last year he was doing this with his ex. he grabbed another drink from the bar and got it down him quickly, planning on sitting at the bar while everyone around him spend the next few minutes with their loved ones.

until he saw you.

his eyes were glued to you the moment he saw you, stuck on how the short red dress you were wearing clung to your curves, stuck on how your hair tumbled over your bare shoulders, stuck on how the sparkly eyeshadow glistened under the neon lights or the club and lit up your whole face.

you made eye contact was you turned towards the bar, and obviously he caught your fancy, with a black button up that pronounced his muscles more than usual, a chain around his neck, and his hair in defined dark curls that contrasted his tanned skin. he looked almost like an angel descended from the heavens, except an angel would never have such a sorrowed look upon their face.

he beckoned you over with a flick of his fingers, eyes never leaving your body, and you may have been upset if you weren’t as gone as you were. you settled yourself in between his legs, taking the half drank glass from his hand and finishing it off for him, leaving a faint red mark on the rim.

he was infatuated at first glance. his hands settled in the dip of your waist, almost engulfing your body with their size. his mouth slowly curved into a smirk as he watched you lean over him to place the now empty glass on the bar, allowing him a small look at your lace bra you were wearing under your dress.

he checked the time on the clock. 11:57.

“what’s your name, gorgeous?” he asked, thumbs drawing lazy circles against the fabric of your dress.

you told him your name, before then asking for his, and his eyes widened with the realisation that you didn’t know who he was, or you were too drunk to realise.

“lando,” he smiled softly, voice deep and husky.

11:58.

“you here with anyone?” he asked, eyes dropping down to your red-stained lips before meeting your eyes again, the actions so quick you could barely recognise it happening.

you shook your head. “well, my friend, but she’s here with her boyfriend so…”

“i’m in the same boat,” he chuckled softly, subconsciously pulling you closer and closer towards him, so your thighs were brushing against his, “my mate max is here but he’s ran off with his girlfriend now.”

“god i hate people in couples,” you laughed, receiving one in return from lando, “they act all in love with no regard for those of us who are single.”

11:59.

“tell me about it,” lando rolled his eyes, his hand slowly climbing up your body so they were now resting against your rib cage.

you looped your arms around him, hands settling in the nape of his neck, a finger wrapping around a loose curl in his hair. he stood up now, looking down on you, and leant down so your faces were mere centimetres apart.

“you know it’s almost midnight,” he whispered in your ear, breath warm against your skin.

you hummed in response, feeling your heart beat doubly as fast against your ribs, the air suddenly feeling so much warmer.

“and i don’t have anyone to kiss.” as the final word left his mouth his lips attached to your neck, soft under ear, leaving a sloppy kiss that made you want more, want so much more.

“i don’t have anyone either,” you almost whispered, scared you had the wrong impression, but of course you didn’t.

chants of people in the background took you out of your little bubble, as the familiar ‘ten, nine, eight,’ sounded through the club.

lando leant right in, so your lips were practically touching already. “can i kiss you?”

you nodded just as the clock struck midnight, and his lips crashed into yours, with a sense of lust that you hadn’t felt in far too long.

the kiss was wet, it was sloppy, but it was desperate and needy and it sent a shiver through your body down to your core. your hands buried themselves in his hair, pulling against his roots and causing him to groan into the kiss, allowing him to stick his tongue in and control the kiss.

your tongues moved in harmony as his hands ran down the lengths of your body, as if he was scared this would be the last time he could touch you, the last time he could feel you under his fingertips. they eventually settled against your ass, cupping it lightly as he pushed your hips against his, so you could feel his semi through his jeans.

you wanted to kiss him forever, wanted all of him all at once. you decided that if the world ended now, you would be happy to die here and now, in landos embrace, his lips pressed against yours.

he pulled away, but only for his lips to find your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses until he found that sweet spot, the spot that made your neck roll back, giving him more access to suck against your skin, undoubtably leaving deep purple marks wherever he went.

your hands detached themselves from his hair and instead you dragged them down his body, fingers spaced out as you passed his pecs, passed his abs (though you were very tempted to linger there), and finished at the waistband of his jeans, dipping an index finger inside to trace the elastic of his boxers.

you felt him groan against your skin, pulling away to give you a look as if to say ‘really? in public?’. deciding to play it innocent, you just beat your eyelashes at him, a confused look on your face, and slowly ventured lower and lower.

lando wasn’t having any of that, however, grabbing your wrists easily in one hand and dragging you over to the door, pulling his phone out to call a taxi. you tried to kiss him again, but he just tutted, with a dangerous glint in his eye that told you you were in for it when you got back to his.

the taxi arrived sooner rather than later, and lando made an effort to sit in the front, leaving you in the back alone. you were confused, wondering where the sudden coldness had come from, wondering if you had pushed it too far. but when he turned around midway through the journey, and mouthed ‘behave now, and i’ll be nice later’, you knew it was going to be a fun night.

you quickly sent your friend a text to let her know you were okay, not that she would read it for another few hours, before deliberating whether or not to behave. on the one hand, behaving means that you wouldn’t piss lando off and that he’ll ‘be nice’ later, whatever that meant. but one the other hand, you kind of wanted to push his buttons, see what you could get him to do. which is why you decided to call your friend and stir up some trouble.

“hey bitch!” you practically sang into the phone, the drunkenness being more apparent than ever. you could see lando in the rear view mirror, and watched as his face seemed confused, but not upset.

“hey!” she slurred back, as drunk as you were, “where the fuck are you?”

“i’m with this guy,” you smirked to yourself as you started your plan, “but i can’t lie, he just doesn’t seem all that you know. like he seems like he’s all talk and he won’t deliver.”

lando raised an eyebrow at that, but still didn’t say or do anything, thought you could tell he was definitely listening in now.

“then why are you going with him?” your friend asked, and you could faintly here the music of the club in the background.

you hummed into the phone, but loud enough for lando to hear as well. “don’t know, maybe i just feel bad for him. he just doesn’t seem like he knows how to fuck, you get what i’m saying?”

lando’s fist clenched at that comment, but he still kept his cool, at least from the outside.

“like, i don’t know, he just doesn’t seem like he knows how to make me cum.”

that particular comment must have hit a nerve because lando leant back and grabbed the phone from your hand. you pouted and lazily attempted to grab it back, but really you were glad you were able to rile him up.

he quickly spoke to your friend, telling her you were okay and where you were going, before hanging up and ignoring your pleas for your phone.

it was only a few more minutes before you were back at lando’s flat, and he still ignored you while he paid the driver and guided you up the stairs, other than a link through your arm to make sure you didn’t fall. you liked the fact that he was still a gentleman, even though it seemed like he was about to not be.

“lando-” you whined as you waited outside his apartment, watching him unlock the door, but he cut you off before you could say anything else.

“what did i tell you?” he asked, voice still and stern, not facing you at all.

you tried to grab his wrist to get him to face you but he resisted. “to behave.”

“and you didn’t behave, did you?” his voice was almost patronising, but it was deep and rough and so fucking sexy that you didn’t care. “so now, i have to show you that what you were saying to your friend isn’t true. unless you’re going to apologise and tell me you didn’t mean it?”

he was giving you a chance to back down, to take the easy route. but it was new year’s day and you were never going to see him again, so you decided to have some fun.

“i don’t know what to tell you, you just don’t seem like you could make a girl cum,” you played it like you didn’t care, when your heart was racing knowing that something good was coming next.

he finally opened the door to his apartment and picked you up, your legs naturally looping around his waist as he pulled you into a rough kiss. it wasn’t like the one earlier, where even though it was rough there was a sweetness behind it, but instead this was pure lust and need in a kiss. his tongue explored every part of your mouth, at a ferocity that you felt like you were on fire, and that no bucket of water could ever pull you out.

his hands settled under your ass, kneading the skin under the silk of your dress. your hands found his shoulders, broad and wide, and you needed them stabilise as your world was spinning around you.

he carried you through his apartment, with you getting a brief look before he threw you onto his bed, leaving you looking up at him with rosy cheeks and lust-hazed eyes.

in the light he looked majestic, with two dimmed lamps either side of you projecting warm orange hues onto his face. fuck, he was gorgeous, chiseled by the gods themselves, and as he undid the buttons on his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, your mouth almost started to water at how beautiful he looked.

you pulled yourself up, going to try and finish undoing the buttons to take his top off, but he stopped you, once again capturing your wrists but this time pinning them behind your back.

“you don’t get to touch if you misbehave, baby,” he said, fake-pity written all across his face.

his other hand pulled your dress off your shoulders, and he let go of your hands for just a moment to remove it from the rest of your body. your heels were next, as he undid them slowly and carefully, taking his time to admire you, watching as your patience was running out.

left in just your lacy red lingerie, you watched as he climbed back over you, obvious hard on that he ignored as his lips met yours in another kiss. it wasn’t quite like the other one, slightly softer, as if he was checking that you were okay with all this. and of course you were.

he pulled away. “i can’t make you cum, yeah?”

“that’s what i said, isn’t it?” you teased back, tilting your head while trying to catch your breath.

“well, i guess you won’t be coming tonight then,” he almost sighed, before diving into the crook of your neck and leaving harsh, aggressive kisses wherever he could, adding to the deep purple marks he caused earlier on.

he slowly made his way down your neck, before finally making it to the valley of your breasts, where he sucked harder than before, obviously trying to deepen the colour and add to your pleasure. his hands found your breasts, taking one in each and kneading them, a soft massage that felt better than it ever should have done. was it the alcohol? or was it him?

he pulled your right boob out of your bra, eyes widening as his index finger and thumb took your nipple in between them and started to roll it gently. you arched your back in reponse, a weak moan falling from your lips, which pushed your breast into his fingers more. his other hand pulled out your other breast, but instead of his fingers his lips attached to it, and your mouth parted subconsciously as a wave of pleasure washed over you.

god, he was good. and he knew he was good judging by the smirk on his face. you almost regretted not letting him pleasure you how he was planning to.

almost.

“fuck, lando,” you let out a breathy whine as he swapped over, both of your nipples having an overwhelming sense of pleasure, “look so pretty sucking my tits.”

you could tell he liked that, as a vibration shook through your body when he moaned against your skin. he pulled away, much to your dismay, but you stopped minding as he slowly made his way down your body, still leaving the open mouthed kisses as he reached your belly button.

“you know,” he almost panted, hands still fixed on your tits, “i was gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

one hand leaves your nipple, a cool trail down your stomach before it settles at your waistband, mimicking your actions from in the club. your hips buck against his hand, causing him to chuckle slightly, as you crave more and more and more of his touch’s

“i was gonna make you come on my tongue, it would have felt so fucking good,” his sultry voice was working wonders as his fingertips traced the patterns in the lace, “would have had you screaming my name as i sucked your clit, would have felt fucking euphoric.”

even his words made you feel something, made you feel like any moment now you were about to combust. one finger trailed down your panties, feather light over where you needed him the most, but with the lace barrier in the way.

“god, you’ve ruined these, huh?” he chuckled, feeling how your wetness had soaked through your underwear. “so fucking wet and all i’ve touched are your tits. so responsive for me.”

you wanted to talk back, wanted to have some bite to you, spur him on even more, but you couldn’t conjure up anything while he left soft kisses on your inner thighs.

“still want my mouth, baby?” his voice was sickly sweet, but the tone behind it was cruel and teasing, because obviously you still wanted his mouth.

you nodded as best as you could, but he shook his head a response, a ‘tut tut tut’ leaving his mouth.

“need words, darling,” he almost sang, “or else you’re not getting anything from me.”

you mustered up every last drop of energy you had and spoke up. “please, lando. i want you.”

“want what?”

it took every fibre in your body to not tell him to fuck off there and then. you wanted to, you really wanted to, but you also wanted him. and that want won.

“want your mouth on me, please, lando.”

and that was enough for him, as he pulled down your lace panties and finally revealed your pussy to him.

“fuck me, darling,” his finger trailed over your folds, feather light, as he took in the sight of it, “you’re glistening, look, you’re dripping out.”

you would have felt embarrassed, but the dutch courage must have taken over. “not used to seeing a girl so wet, huh?”

his tongue poked his cheek. “easy, pretty girl. let me make you feel good.”

he gently blew over you, making you squirm slightly, before he dived straight in and began sucking your clit. the pleasure was instant, your hips bucking into his face as he chuckled against you, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. everything he had made you feel up to this point was microscopic compared to the pleasure you felt now.

it only grew when he slid two fingers into your pussy, curling them up at hitting that spot inside of you, looking over as your face contorted in pleasure, eyes closed, mouth hung open, he thought you looked like the prettiest girl in the world.

you were already close, no idea how as you hadn’t been going for that long. but the mix of his fingers in your cunt and his mouth on your clit was bringing you to the edge.

“i- i’m close, lando,” you stuttered, speaking hard when so much pleasure was coarsing through your veins.

he tilted his head slightly. “you’re close did you say?”

you nodded, feeling your orgasm approaching faster and faster, you could already feel it happening now. to add to everything, his fingers somehow reached deeper inside of you, contorting in a way where everything was just so fucking good.

“i wait,” he let out a soft, fake laugh, “i forgot. i can’t make you cum.”

and with that he pulled away, leaving you recovering from a high you never even got. you had to take a minute, your body feeling worse than ever as the euphoria slowly went away, and the lack of human touch was getting to you.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he faked pity, reaching down to swipe his thumb across your cheekbone. “you weren’t expecting to finish, not according to what you said in the car.”

you slowly opened your eyes, seeing his gorgeous face looking down on you, and fighting the urge to throw a punch. you subconsciously leaned into his touch, craving it despite the atrocity he just performed, and watched as he undid his belt with his other hand.

“here’s the deal,” he pulled away, leaving you with a whine, before unbuttoning his shirt and taking it all off, allowing you to see his abs for the first time that night. “you’re gonna suck me off, and if you do a good job, then, and only then, do you get to cum. understand, darling?”

you nodded. secretly, you wanted to suck him off anyway, and with this deal you would get to come as well. he took a step back from the bed, tapping his foot against the floor as a gesture for you to come down. you couldn’t understand though, brain slightly fucked from the shortly lived pleasure, and instead looked at him confusedly.

“get on your knees for me, baby,” he cooed, and you did as he said, sinking onto his wooden floor and looking up at him, waiting for his next order. with the promise of an orgasm at the other end, at this point you would do anything to get to the prize.

he started to unzip his jeans, and as you went to help, he instantly took a step back. “hands behind your back, no touching remember?”

you poured, but did as he said, linking for fingers behind your back as you waited for him to get ready. he pulled his boxers down, and jesus christ were you not ready.

he looked big through his hard on in his jeans, but you were not ready for all that. you could tell you were shocking your shock through your face, and he let out a soft chuckle and grabbed your chin with his right hand.

“think you can take it?” he asked, holding it with his other hand as he kept your eyes on it, watching as your mouth suddenly seemed to water.

you nodded. “mhm. just wanna make you feel good, baby. that’s all i want.”

he smiled down at you. “give me a kiss.”

you tried to climb up to kiss his lips, but his hand kept you pressed down, and you understood instantly. you leant forward to press your mouth against his dick, kissing the tip gently and watching as his head fell back. you left open mouthed kisses all down his length, finished at the base before climbing all the way back to the top. you started leaving kitten licks on the tip, watching the veins in his neck pulsate at your actions.

“god, you’re so fucking good,” he grunted, hand moving from your chin round to the back of your head, nestling in your hair as he started to take control. “you gonna take me all in?”

you hummed against his cock, opening your mouth as he guided you down, controlling your movements as he gently fucked your mouth. you tried your hardest not to move or choke, instead trying to focus on his pleasure.

you couldn’t help your eyes watering though, and when he looked down he obviously felt bad, relaxing a little bit as he let you take more charge.

“look so pretty naked on your knees for me,” he cooed, taking in sharp breaths as your tongue swirled around his tip. “who knew that such a sweet looking girl could give head like this? yeah, keep going, fuck, you’re so fucking good.”

you just kept going, knowing that the more you pleasured him the more likely you were to get pleasure yourself. lando didn’t want to seem selfish, however, as his hand wrapped forward to stroke your cheek again.

“fuck, play with your nipples for me,” he ordered, slightly out of breath, but moaning as you started to play with yourself. he let out a groan as you moaned around his cock, head bobbing like this was your last day on earth. “such pretty tits, should be framed in a museum how good you look right now.”

you could tell he was close by how his breaths got shallower and shallower, and his thrusts into your throat got weaker. he pulled away though, leaving a string of saliva from your mouth to his cock, which you licked up instantly. you went back to kissing his cock, waiting as you squeezed your nipples even harder.

“you were so good, huh, baby?” he picked your naked body up, grabbing your hands and wrapping them round his neck, telling you that you could finally touch him again. “listened to everything i told you to do, such a good girl.”

his praise was music to your ears, and his actions matched the tone of his words. he lay you gently down on the bed, climbing over you as his lips met yours in the softest kiss of the night. it was an ‘are you okay?’ kiss, an ‘i hope i didn’t go too far’ kiss, a ‘you look beautiful’ kiss, and it was possibly your favourite of the night.

“gonna fuck that dripping pussy,” he mumbled into your lips before continuing the kiss, lining his cock up against your entrance, tapping it against your clit purely to watch you squirm with elation.

and as he thrusted into you it was like your world had stopped. fuck, he felt so good inside you, filling you up more than you could have imagined and left you choking on air as inch by inch he entered more and more.

lando felt much the same, obsessed with how you felt clenched around him, how tight you were as he continued in. he waited once his whole dick was in, holding back from setting a rhythm until he was positive you could take it.

“feel so good clenched around me,” he muttered out, leaning back so he could check you were alright, check that you were ready for this, “such a tight little pussy needs to be stretched out.”

you nodded at him, a signal to start moving, and he did as he was told, beginning to thrust in and out of you at such a pace that your mouth flew open in shock. his hands dug into your hips, undoubtably causing marks as he fucked you deep and hard.

the moans emitted from your mouth were ungodly, borderline pornographic, and led to you covering your mouth in embarrassment. lando was having none of that, however, stopping his movements to gaze into your eyes.

“don’t you dare not let me hear those pretty sounds,” he thrust at the end of the sentence, as if to solidify his point, and you allowed yourself to moan, “want all the neighbours to hear how good i’m fucking you.”

you were so close to the edge, once again seeing it in the distance, and you clenched around lando trying to let him know. he chuckled and leant into your shoulder, kissing over the deep marks he’d left earlier, just adding to the euphoria you were feeling.

“gonna cum,” you whined, grabbing one of his hands and guiding it to your clit, needing that final push to make it over the edge.

he understood instantly, rubbing rough circles while sucking against your neck. the pleasure was washing over you in waves, and it wasn’t long until you felt your orgasm rush through your body, every part of you feeling lighter and in a state of happiness you couldn’t remember ever feeling before.

lando kept going, however, chasing his own orgasm, and you decided to help him get thrre, however harsh it was for you. your lips found his neck for the first time, leaving sloppy kisses along his collarbones that were followed by a row of dark purple and red.

“fuck me,” he grunted, thrusts getting sloppier as he got closer and closer to the edge. “gonna pull out, yeah?”

you nodded against his chest, nails tracing over his abs as you rocked your hips in tandem with him, so sensitive that you might even come again.

as he kept thrusting into you, you remembered how much he loved being praised earlier, and thought that might help get him over the edge.

“being so good, fucking me so well lando,” you sighed, whispering into his ear as you kissed up his neck.

you felt his thrusts stutter with your words, obviously having a positive impact as a blush rose to his cheeks. his hands gripped even harder around your hips, and you began to feel another orgasm coming.

“such a pretty boy, so so pretty, look so good and fuck me so good,” you kept going, your hands leaving him and instead finding your clit. “got the prettiest dick as well, feels so good all wrapped inside me.”

“fuck-” he choked out, before pulling out and finishing all over his chest.

he panted while you got yourself to finish, cumming over your fingers. you threw your head back against the pillow, watching your chest as it rose and fell, trying to catch your breath.

lando joined you, lying across the bed while pulling himself together. you decided you weren’t finished, however, crawling over on top of him and licking his cum off of his abs, making sure to get every last drop off. his hands tangled themselves as you finished, pulling you up to him so he could kiss you again, making out like teenagers as you just enjoyed each others company.

“so,” lando finally broke the silence as he pulled away from the kiss, “i did make you cum.”

you shrugged as you rolled back to the side of him. “was it more fun that i challenged you?”

“definitely. never known someone so responsive to some dirty talk,” he jested, earning a slap on his bicep.

“never known someone love to be praised so much,” you retaliated, shutting him up as he went to grab you a glass of water.

he returned quickly, along with some boxers for him and a baggy t-shirt for you. you noticed the t-shirt it had ‘mclaren’ across it, and you hummed for his attention as you threw it on.

“you like cars then?” you asked, not expecting him to laugh in reponse.

“yeah, you could say that.”

you tilted your head in confusion, but decided you were too tired to understand whatever was going on. “you don’t mind me staying the night?”

“not at all.”

“you gonna tell me why that was so funny in the morning?” you asked, knowing it would be your last question before you drifted off to sleep.

he hummed. “of course. happy new year.”

“happy new year.”

[whrsmym1nd]

HOUSE OF BALLOONS ━ C.L & C.S

🕊 2k celebration 🕊

based off ‘house of balloons’ by the weeknd

or

in which the only thing creating tension between the two drivers at ferarri is you, after carlos realises he met you a few months too late ━ and charles wants to make that clear.

warnings; lotta smut, smutty themes, or smut, threesome, unprotected sex, oral sex, spanking, choking, slapping like twice but like lightly lol, charles is controlling and toxic but it’s okay, reader slightly toxic and confusing but we don’t blame her, degradation, praise, hair pulling, possessive charles, kinda controlling?? charles, literally just an ego fest for carlos and charles, mentions of silverstone and charles being fucked over with strategy

been on another level; since you came, no more pain

you look into my eyes, you can’t recognise my face

“it’s a casual thing.” charles had told him with a slap on his shoulder, the small thin lipped smile doing little to hide his daring eyes. the first time carlos had seen his teammate somewhat on edge, not that he was obviously appearing that way. but carlos could read charles by now.

he had asked about you. a few months into his first year with ferarri and besides getting a win with the team, his next biggest desire was you.

you in any way shape or form, despite him always remaining respectful ━ he couldn’t help but daydream about the not so respectful things he wanted to do to you. the moment he saw you he was hooked.

he’d wait. he’d told himself. a cocky mindset in all honesty, used to always getting what he wants. let himself settle into the team, not wanting to get on the wrong foot by sleeping with a coworker.

not yet at least.

but a few months in, towards the end of the 2021 season he realised he had no reason to wait anymore. the flirting between the pair of you was reciprocated, he wasn’t oblivious to your suggestive eyes and small smirks. the way your cheeks heated every time he tread closer to the line with a sweet compliment.

although mentioning you to charles made him realise he was oblivious to something else.

the monegasque had laughed when carlos spoke your name, shifted in his seat and raised his eyebrows slightly towards the spaniard.

carlos was slightly confused but didn’t show it, suddenly exposed to a different side of his teammate. had he said something wrong? it wasn’t clear as daylight but there was a slight smugness on charles face, also an unusual entitled front.

“you’re a year too late mate.” was all charles said, the small laugh he let out once more doing little to convince carlos that he was as unbothered as he seemed while quickly connecting the dots.

“you and her?” carlos hummed out, managing to not sound disappointed as he raised his eyebrows, although he felt his stomach drop from this news.

‘it’s a casual thing,’ was his parting words as carlos was left to watch charles raise to his feet and wander off.

he was in disbelief, was charles messing with him? how would he fail to mention he was screwing the team photographer? how did he fail to notice you were sneaking around with the other driver?

carlos’ questions were answered quite quickly though, suddenly paying a lot more attention to any interactions between the pair of you during the end of the year, and the start of the next.

“let me see,” charles spoke out after you took a few shots of him, using it as an excuse to stand alongside you ━ carlos watching as he leaned in towards you so he could look at the pictures on the camera screen.

although his arm sneaking around your waist and lips quickly ducking to your neck had you giggling, flinching as you mumbled something carlos couldn’t make out from across the garage.

no it hadn’t always been like this. charles was being like this because he knew carlos was watching. but the way you were reacting told carlos you were used to this attention from charles, just not in public.

he then picked up on every damn interaction. the way you’d stumble over you words ever so slightly in press meetings when catching charles eye. how the monegasque’s hands lingered on your waist after a greeting hug.

bumping into you on the way to his drivers room had never felt odd to him before, he never questioned why you’d be back here. but with his new knowledge it made sense relatively quickly.

“good luck out there,” you grinned widely when you approached each other in the narrow hall, carlos coming to a stop because he would always make time for you.

“thank you,” he grinned right back, water bottle in hand although after glancing over you once he noticed things he usually wouldn’t have looked out for. lips looked swollen. hair was tamed but not as neat as it had been this morning. the red marks on your neck.

almost on cue his eyes lifted and there was charles, leaning in the doorframe of his own drivers room practically glowing, the direction you had just come from. small smirk on his face and the fact his drivers suit was not done up when it had been earlier told carlos all he needed to know.

lucky bastard.

your eyes followed carlos’ relatively quickly, meeting the eyes of the guy you had just been on your knees for and the heat travelled up your neck and cheeks quickly as you realised it became quite clear what had just occurred to carlos ahead of you. he may not have you seen you left charles room but it didn’t take a genius to determine where you just were.

“you’re gonna smash it,” you rushed out with a guilty smile, avoiding his eyes now as you quickly rushed off ━ hand fixing your hair as if that would remove any suspicion.

it made him think back to all the missed signs. the amount of times you had wished him luck with your words in the damn hallway, realising only moments before you were wishing charles luck in a much better way.

any team celebration or outings he noticed you two leaving together, within minutes of one and other. it annoyed him to no end, because it appeared to be just sex. so it’s not like carlos had to push back his feelings or attraction out of respect for charles.

regardless charles was making it seem that way. he was all over you nowadays. okay, that was an exaggeration as everyone else was oblivious. carlos just paid extra attention now and the monegasque knew it.

he didn’t say anything though. it was all unspoken, carlos had silently been put in his place. charles was here first, got to you first; he didn’t see how he could slot in and he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

especially when you made things so much harder than they needed to be.

“hi,” you almost squeaked as you poked your head in the door, being met with a view of a defeated looking carlos. his eyes looked up to see you, and you couldn’t tell if he was relieved or annoyed it was you knocking at his door.

“not the best time for photos.” carlos mumbled, scratching the back of his neck as if it was obvious. even after back to back dnf’s, this one here in imola not being his fault; he couldn’t bring himself to kick you out completely like he would’ve anyone else.

your lips parted, quickly shaking your head at his assumption.

“no of course not,” you rushed out, cheeks heating at the eagerness you spoke with. “i was just checking on you.” you spoke out, lips pursing into a sheepish smile.

of course you were. always so thoughtful. so kind.

“oh right,” carlos nodded, failing to offer you a smile despite your words softening the disappointment he was currently feeling. if he wasn’t so caught up on his lack of luck he’d be over the moon that you had come to check up on, even with the race still going.

“if you want to be alone━” you began to say, shaking your head; fearing you had over stepped and already beginning to shut the door.

that brought carlos to his senses though. was he stupid?

“no.” he quickly spoke, pursing his lips as he realised how desperate he sounded. “no you don’t need to go. i’m just, not in the mood to talk,” he shrugged ━ and he wanted to sigh when you gave him an understanding smile.

of course you understood.

“that’s okay,” you spoke softly, slipping inside and shutting the door behind you ━ your eyes scanned over him for a moment, biting down harshly on your bottom lip.

his eyes met yours once more and he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, definitely picking up on the way you were looking at him. the sexual tension undeniable, even though he’s tried so hard to deny it since finding out about you and charles.

“don’t think charles would want you here.” carlos spoke before he could think it through properly; blaming his lack of thought on his mood, and you were quick to appeared confused.

carlos regretted it the moment he said it, quickly realising he was implying you too felt the sexual tension. revealing he knew damn well about whatever is going on between you and his teammate.

“struggling to see how that’s relevant,” you spoke, titling your head in confusion as you took a few steps towards him; sudden wave of confidence washing over you.

carlos’ want for you wasn’t only picked up on by the monegasque, you were well aware and in all honesty waiting for him to do something about it.

but he never seemed to get past flirtatious comments and you were starting to grow fed up.

“he’d get the wrong idea.” carlos elaborated, breath hitching slightly when you didn’t stop moving, his head tilting up when you stood between his legs; and when your hands moved to rest on his shoulders he thought he may be hallucinating.

“what would that be?” you asked quietly, hands sprawling over the material of his suit; searching for any sense of alarm or hesitance on his face.

oh how you hoped you were reading the current situation right.

and you appeared to be, considering his lips parted to answer you, before clamping shut when he realised he had no answer. his hands grazing over the back of your thighs enough to give you full confidence in your advances.

“charles doesn’t own me.” you whispered softly, happily straddling his lap ━ hands tangling his hair immediately as your lips hovered over his, small smirk tugging on your own.

carlos had heard all he needed to, all he wanted to the past few months; his hands finding a home on your waist as he nodded slightly.

“does he know that?” carlos asked you quietly, almost challenging you as he gave your waist a small squeeze. he wanted some sort of control over this situation, some sort of dominance. but you had a hold over him he couldn’t explain, and you seemed to know it too.

the innocent smile you gave him had his jaw clenching, fully aware of every movement you made as you shuffled in his lap slightly.

“you sound like you want to fuck charles not me,” you sassed, lips ducking to press lightly against his jaw, a small hum escaping you as you busied yourself with peppering small kisses on his skin.

carlos let out a breathy laugh, a fake one; head falling back as he tried to make sense of what was actually happening right now. his cock was hardening, skin felt hot ━ the his hands couldn’t get a good enough grip on your skin.

he even found himself doubting if this was real. if it was a joke, unable to comprehend your bold moves and eagerness for him. he had picked up on your flirting but this was the last thing he had expected from you.

“you do want to fuck me hm?” you spoke up again, raising your head as your hand cupped the side of his face, eyes pouring into his. “seen the way you look at me. been waiting for you to do something about it,”

the spaniard lost all worry about your situation with charles from your bold and blunt words, deciding against answering and instead pressing his lips to yours before any better judgement slips in.

you gasped slightly from the sudden kiss, but with no complaints as you quickly found yourself kissing back ━ hands moving to grasp the sides of his face.

the makeout session was one that had been a long time coming, desperate and eager; a mess of tongue and teeth as you happily let carlos let out his frustrations from the race.

his frustrations from being starved of you for so long.

“i knew━” you began to speak out of breath when his lips left yours, but his hand stopped you; snatching your chin in a tight grip, so quick you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you.

“not in the mood for your bratty mouth,” carlos huffed out ━ finger tapping your bottom lip absentmindedly, and despite the amused smile that crept onto your face you were quick to nod.

“wanna make you feel better,” you confessed, leaning forward slightly in an attempt to connect your lips again. carlos was quick to lean back, watching as you let out a small breath from the lack of contact. it was obvious to the pair of you he was needy for you, he needed to see it reciprocated. just for a moment. “wanna make you feel good. please,” you continued.

quite quickly you realised what he liked, the way he swallowed intently from a few submissive words. it was all he needed to hear before his lips were back on yours, more than eager to let you help him fuck his frustrations out.

you’re in my world now; you can stay, you can stay

but you belong to me, oh you belong to me

charles pieced things together incredibly quickly.

it didn’t take a genius to figure it out, considering his little hiccup on track he was more than eager to get his hands on you.

what was purely sex had become a necessity to the ferarri driver every race weekend. win, points, dnf, podium it didn’t matter; he’d find a reason to be inside you one way or another.

so when you struggled to give the right words in response to his race, failed to reassure him that the mistake wouldn’t defy him; he was quick to realise you hadn’t been watching.

weird.

“you’ll bounce back,” your voice broke him out of his heavy mind, eyes snapping back to you as you absentmindedly played with your camera.

he only nodded, silent as he glanced over you.

your cheeks were flushed. your hair was now tied up. mascara under your eyes was slightly smudged, not enough to notice unless you were focusing. not to mention the forming red mark on the right of your neck.

that wasn’t left by him. he’d only mark you up below the collarbones, for him to see.

“were you watching?” charles asked, in no mood to beat around the bush and the alarm on your face from his question practically answered it.

“what? of course.” you laughed, eyes adverting down onto your camera once more, in no way able to lie under the intense stare of his green eyes.

charles day seemed to only be getting worse, tensing up visibly at his suspicion of you lying to his face.

“don’t lie to me.” charles practically grumbled, his tone filling your stomach with dread. there’s no way he knows? how could he possibly know he hadn’t even been out the car an hour.

“i was watching.” you spoke in certainty, looking up at him once more. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you chewed the inside of your cheeks.

you watched as he looked at you skeptically, before his eyes scanned the surrounding area.

it dawned on him the moment he saw his spanish teammate. his friend actually. meeting his eyes and being met with a smile from the driver was odd, considering carlos shouldn’t have much to smile about right now.

charles knew what could make him smile after a race like that though, what could have him carrying his head so high ━ it was right in front of him, staring up at him with irresistible eyes and what made charles feel better after a shitty race.

and he had no doubt in his mind that’s exactly what happened.

“is carlos okay?” charles questioned, flat voice showing he wasn’t genuinely interested in knowing whether carlos was okay or not.

your face paled and charles knew damn well why you weren’t watching his race.

“i━ yeah, i think so,” you stumbled over your words, the small smile doing little to recover your stumbling over your words as your stomach did a flip.

you watched as charles nodded slowly, watched as he glanced between the pair of you a couple times all the while you were unable to form words. you wanted to reassure him what he was thinking wasn’t true.

but it was true. and you were hoping he wasn’t thinking it.

“i’ll see you tonight?” charles question was the last thing you expected, especially as his hand raised to the side of your neck ━ fingers grazing delicately over your skin.

the same spot you had noticed carlos’ lips lingering.

yeah he knew.

you nodded though quickly, not any hesitance in agreeing to see him despite having been with carlos moments later. it should’ve brought you shame, but with charles right in front of you how could you resist.

he left it at that, no half smile, cheeky grin or wink as he walked off to the race debrief. just a simple nod, no insight into his mind as his face remained stone cold.

it was the only image in your mind the next few hours, the unimpressed and borderline angry charles which was unfamiliar to you and most.

only having ever seen him like that after a bad day on the track, but usually your words and presence was enough to have him cracking a smile ━ even before he fucks your brains out and uses your body, which you love just as much as the slow sex you would share the morning after.

you had no idea what to expect tonight though, not at all convinced he was actually wanting to still sleep with you considering he was assuming the worst between you and carlos.

you still showed up though, his favourite red lace set dressed under your shirt and shorts, knocking on his hotel door nervously.

no matter how many times the pair of you have done this, the idea of getting caught still scares you. hence why he didn’t leave you waiting, the door opening quickly revealing charles; still wearing his ferarri polo but now in sweats.

he motioned for you to come inside and the lack of conversation did little to settle your nerves, the door shutting behind you as you shuffled inside, charles not making any moves to leave the entrance way.

“anything you want to tell me?” charles couldn’t help but ask the question outright, eyebrow quirking as you stood there silently, fingers fiddling together under his intense stare.

you were still holding onto hope however that charles hadn’t figured it out. you still were in denial that he could simply glance at you and carlos and piece together what had occurred.

although it was painfully obvious, carlos not one to his the cocky smile and knowing glances; and your behaviour after the race spoke for itself.

“don’t lie to me.” charles huffed when your lips parted, ready to lie to him ━ the call out having your slam them shut as your breath hitched in your throat. you weren’t aware of the fact charles could read you so well but it appeared to be that way.

he sounded like he had right after the race, but calmer this time.

“i don’t know what you want me to say,” you mumbled with a shrug, biting down on the inside of your cheek as charles shrunk the distance between the pair of you, stepping forward as his hand moved to cup your cheek.

your attempts to avoid his eyes were now pointless as he tilted your head up, and while the touch was delicate his stare was not. a knowing look, almost as if he was giving you one more chance to spill.

“i was just checking on him, tried to cheer him up,” you spoke ━ a few details left out but you weren’t lying, charles eyebrows raising at the breakthrough as he nodded almost too convincingly.

“you’re pretty good at that,” he commented, your cheeks heating at the implication as he made it clear to you he had well and truly connected the dots.

no point beating around the bush now, you were well aware his tense stance, lack of smiles and friendliness was not due to the race. but because of you.

“we said we could sleep with other people.” you pointed out, and while the monegasque was convinced his suspicions were right, hearing them be confirmed had his jaw clenching, stepping forward forcing you step backwards, your back hitting the wall.

you weren’t wrong, this thing with charles was great, more than sex; physically speaking. the touching and flirting didn’t stop out of bed. but you had agreed you weren’t exclusive, there was no strings attached; no loyalty.

“not here.” he grumbled, hand moving to run through your hair as he shook his head. “here you’re mine.” he spoke breathlessly, and you had to squeeze your thighs from the possessive tone he was speaking in, in no mood to deny his words when he was looking at you like that.

“in the paddock; you’re mine. these hotels; mine. every fucking race weekend, you’re mine.” charles ranted out in frustration, lips having attached to your neck as he spoke next to your ear, a small whine leaving your throat as he kissed your sensitive skin.

you couldn’t help but nod, although he tugged on your hair to stop your movements, the sharp pain causing a small gasp to leave your lips.

“i don’t share amour,” charles continued to speak, nibbling slightly at the skin of your neck before sucking harshly; he was never one to leave visible marks in exposed areas but tonight was an exception. “if you have a problem with that then you can go,”

you whimpered, shaking your head quickly; charles smirking to himself as he continued the assault on your neck, letting out a hum of approval.

“didn’t think so,” he breathed out, retracting his neck as he leant back to look down at you, his hand still holding a grip in your hair and keeping your head in place, his deep breaths met with your sympathetic eyes.

“m’ sorry,” you mumbled out, tongue wetting your bottom lip as you tried to squeeze your thighs together, only then noticing he had pushed a knee between your legs.

“no need to apologise baby,” charles hummed out; both hands moving to your hips before he was turning around, your front met with the door quickly as he then tugged your hips out towards him.

a small gasp was drawn from you from the sudden movement and your hands slapping the hard surface to give yourself some support, the compromising position not doing anything to help the heat between your legs.

“i just gotta make sure it doesn’t happen again hm?” the driver had his chest against your back, speaking into your ear quietly so shivers were running up your spine; so entranced by his words that you were completely thrown off guard by the sound and sharp pain of his hand hitting your ass.

the pain was quick to turn into pleasure, as his hand massaged where he had laid the slap ━ before he was tugging your leggings down your legs, you assisting in stepping out of them.

“is it cause i haven’t been fucking you well enough? that what it is?” charles mouth showed no signs of stopping as his hand slid between your legs, fingers swiping over your panties which had already developed a wet patch.

“no,” you spoke out quickly; more than satisfied with the sex with charles and he knew it too, but you still felt the need to respond and reassure him; despite being fully aware charles was in no need of an ego boost, the driver was well aware of the effect he had on you and your body.

“i’ll have to make sure yeah,” charles muttered as he pushed your panties aside, lips pressing kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder as he gathered some of your wetness and moved his fingers to your clit, rubbing a few circles which had your hips pushing back against his hand. “fuck his name out of your mouth. only thing your gonna remember is me and how i feel inside you,” charles lips had returned to your ear and you moaned at what sounded like a promise.

and it was a promise, because when you woke up the neck morning it was if you could still feel him pounding into you. you lost count of the amount of times you had came, his name being the only word you could manage the entire night.

for the first time ever he had littered your body in marks, looking like a teenager with hickeys scattering your neck and chest. indents of his fingernails lining the side of your neck as well, as well as your thigh. although it was nothing compared to the marks you had left down his back.

you had come to the conclusion your legs practically felt numb as your body woke, eyes opening to be met with a view of charles chest, realising your surroundings. his arm around you, fingers playing with your hair; your head resting on his bare chest.

“morning sleepyhead,” the monegasque spoke with a light chuckle, causing you to nudge him ever so slightly as you groaned, eyes closing again as you hid your face in the crook of his neck to remove all the light sources around you.

the driver showed no dismay, chuckling once more as he watched you, sheets tugged up above both your naked and connected bodies.

“didn’t go too hard last night did i?” charles had hummed softly, the small laugh that left your chest having him roll his eyes as your head peeked up, squinting at him as you adjusted to the light once more; shaking your head.

“no.” you told him, a small smile for reassurance. although he already knew that, knew your body so well; your limitations, what was too much. he had pushed you to the limit last night and you had loved every moment of it.

you were considering mentioning the carlos thing; wondering if it needed to be addressed beyond sex, unable to completely determine whether it had actually offended charles. you couldn’t tell; but the way he was acting showed he was fine, so you were compelled to leave it.

maybe he just used it as an excuse, to let some built up anger out from on track; and you’d never deny helping him in doing so.

oh how wrong you were though. charles had gotten his point across to you, but his teammate however ━ he still wanted to send him a message.

you frowned at the sound of a knock on the hotel door, charles sighing as he detangled his limbs from yours ━ your huff of dismay doing little to stop him as he quickly shrugged his grey sweats on and up his legs.

you gathered the sheets around your body, under the impression he’d tell whoever was at the door; presumably room service, to come back later.

you quickly realised that wasn’t the case, hearing the door shut and two sets of voices sending you into a panic as you sat up, swiftly swiping the shirt on the end of the bed that belonged to charles and throwing it over your body.

the open planned hotel room meant you were not one bit hidden as carlos followed charles towards the coffee table, another figure in the bed having him do a double take.

you were left to blankly stare at the other driver, cringing at the thought of how you looked right now, how obvious it was as to what you were up to last night.

carlos could only blink a few times, lips parting in surprise as he felt his stomach drop ever so slightly; feeling somewhat stupid for getting his hopes up yesterday afternoon.

“don’t look so stressed amour he already knows about this,” charles broke the silence, drawing your attention to the monegasque who was smirking proudly, your eyes widening and cheeks heating as your grip on the sheets tightened.

suddenly it made sense to carlos as to why charles had texted him so early telling him to come pick up the ticket for the private jet. under the impression he was simply doing a favour that had been done many times before, printing both passes out.

seems charles had just been calculated in baiting him over here, a silent but obvious power play as he was left to look at you in charles bed, in charles shirt. not to mention the purple bruises that definitely weren’t left by himself in his drivers room.

“yeah,” carlos sheepishly chuckled, deciding to act unbothered ━ also not sure if charles even knew what had occurred yesterday but this was too much of a coincidence, so he was guessing he had figured out.

regardless he wasn’t going to mention it if the monegasque didn’t, so he pursed his lips ━ took the piece of paper out of his teammates hands and was headed to the door without a second glance.

“see you on the plane no?” carlos hummed out towards charles, who still couldn’t knock the smug look off his face, following him to the door as he saw him out, nodding along and giving him a polite answer you didn’t even hear over the steam coming out of your ears.

“what the fuck?” you practically hissed when charles appeared in front of the bed once more, his hands moving up in defence. he looked anything but innocent, eyes holding no sympathy as he shrugged.

“what? it’s just carlos.” charles played dumb, although the grin still tugging on your lips made it clear he knew damn well what he was doing. heck, even if he was an incredible liar you could see right through it.

“i was not wearing any clothes,” you pointed out, exasperated as your hands moved to get your point across, although he only chuckled once more ━ hand tangling through his hair as he let out a hum.

“wouldn’t be anything he hadn’t seen before.” charles was quick witted, your cheeks reddening again. you had no reply, instinctively throwing the pillow beside you at him ━ watching as he laughed and quickly caught it. “he needed his plane ticket.” charles offered you a piss weak explanation, placing the pillow aside.

you couldn’t even be mad, not with the charming smile on his face and twinkle of amusement in his eye as he climbed back into bed, eyes staring down at you all too knowingly.

“told him he needed to get it early, i’ve got things to do.” charles elaborated, his hands moving to press on your arms and push you back towards the bed so you were laying down again, watching as he shifted to hover over you ━ a glare still set on your features.

“would hate to be interrupted,” charles grinned, settling between your legs ━ kissing down your stomach, giving you no time nor want to argue anymore, a deep breath leaving your lips as his head moved to between your thighs. “right?”

how could you disagree? as he adjusted your legs over his shoulders, pressing delicate kisses to all the makes one your inner thighs which he had left the night before, you found yourself only agreeing. it would be a shame to be interrupted.

oh, so don’t blame it on me girl; cause you wanted to have fun

if it hurts to breathe, open a window; or your mind wants to leave, but you can’t go

to say things had become awkward between you and carlos would be an understatement. you were lucky enough for the next race in miami to be so hectic that you barely got a chance for any conversation that didn’t surround taking his photo or filming a video.

that didn’t mean the awkward tension wasn’t there. or sexual tension. you couldn’t tell, sometimes looking at him you were thinking of how good it felt riding his cock. other times you were thinking about him walking in on you a complete mess in charles bed.

things between charles and carlos were fine, because everything was unspoken.

charles hadn’t outright mentioned the fact that he knew carlos and you had fucked, and he wasn’t acting as if he knew either. the same old flaunting of his connection with you remained however, carlos still not immune to picking up on every damn interaction between the pair of you.

it wasn’t until spain that there was any mention of the events of imola, an hour before the race and you were taking carlos’ photo as he got suited up.

his eyes met yours, and it was clear there was no avoidance here; mechanics were busy around the pair of you, charles was no where to be seen; it would be way too obvious for either of you to down right ignore one and other.

so he smiled, a tight lipped and polite smile as he nodded ━ causing you to smile back as you put your camera down.

“any good?” carlos hummed, unsure what else to say, reminding himself of when he first joined the team and would overthink every word he said to you. out of character yet alway getting flustered the first few races when he’d spot you aiming your camera t at him. despite being used to cameras on him at all times.

“always good,” you grinned with a small laugh, taking a few steps towards him as you flicked through a couple ━ before turning off the camera completely.

carlos was nodding slowly, a small chuckle having fallen from his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes scanning the room for any last minute abort options. nope, no reason to escape you now.

“i’m sorry.” you practically blurted, carlos not one to hide his shocked expression as his eyebrows raised, encouraging you to elaborate. “i hate that things are awkward between us now, i really didn’t want them to be,” you tried to explain.

carlos had gave you a sympathetic smile, shaking his head and waving his hand as if what you were saying wasn’t true, even letting out a laugh.

“it’s fine.” carlos smiled, and you knew those words meant anything but. so did he. “really. it’s fine. we’re fine.” he reassured, nodding convincingly and you could’ve believed him if you wanted to, but you knew it was bull. he may be fine, you may be fine; but things between you weren’t fine. weren’t the same at least.

“yeah… okay,” you nodded ━ pursing your lips. no, leaving it at that didn’t solve anything. “i didn’t think━ i don’t know why he did that,” you rambled - implying the morning carlos caught you in his bed, stumbling over your words and carlos let out another breath and dry laugh.

“figured that he uh… knew,” carlos hummed as he nodded, you being quick to nod in confirmation as carlos shrugged once more. “it’s all good. really. charles and i are fine, we’re fine.” carlos nodded.

you nodded once more, a whole lotta nodding as both of you seemed scared to do anything else. for some reason however you still weren’t satisfied, hence you still standing here.

you didn’t know what else to say though, or what you wanted to say. reassure him it wasn’t anything to do with him? that it wasn’t because that hour with him was at all a disappointment. cause it was more than ever expected.

carlos seemed to notice this, eyebrow raising as you made no move to leave or say anything else, eyes squinting in slight concentration.

“are you and charles fine?” carlos hummed out, deciding to fill the silence with a question he already knew the answer too. you nodded, again, heat raising on your cheeks as you did so.

“yeah, yeah. we’re good.” you mumbled, small and unconvincing smile to go with it. nothing had changed, you still slept with him whenever suit ━ helping him majorly through the bad luck stint he was currently stuck in.

“he couldn’t have been happy i assume,” carlos pressed for some information, if you weren’t going anywhere then he may as well ask. he’d tried to cut the conversation short already.

“i mean… yeah, he wasn’t over the moon.” you laughed, biting down on the inside of your cheek, standing next to where he was sitting suddenly felt way too close when a smirk tugged onto carlos’ soft lips, his eyes twinkling at the thought of charles realising he had got you.

“threatened. i bet.” carlos spoke so simply that you almost missed the cocky tone hidden beneath his words, your eyes having drifted across the garage snapping right back to him, cheeks heating as you pursed your lips.

you didn’t know how to reply. you couldn’t speak for charles. while on one hand he seemed quite bothered, he also appeared incredibly unfazed after the initial anger had settled.

“cause it’s not like you were faking it.” carlos continued, tongue grazing over the front of his teeth as you felt your stomach flip, familiar rush of butterflies from the mention of your time spent with him. “you don’t make those sounds if you’re faking it,” carlos explained further with a smug smirk.

it was the reason why he wasn’t necessarily butt hurt about seeing you with charles the morning after. because what he was certain of was that the cause could not have been carlos not pleasing you enough.

“carlos…” you trailed off through a sigh, practically warning him because the flashbacks you were having right now were in no way going to help ease the lingering tension or awkwardness. it would only put you back to square one.

“thought he didn’t own you,” carlos ignored you, quirking a brow as his hand reached forward, grabbing ahold of the hem of your shirt and tugging you towards him with it, moving to stand between his legs with little resistance.

turns out not one, but two ferarri drivers, could cloud your mind and overrule your common sense with a few words and a bat of their eyelashes.

“he doesn’t.” you huffed, looking down at him with your bottom lip between your teeth, carlos only grinning at your admission although the tilt of his head showed you he doubted your words, which had you huffing once more.

“you better go take his photo too yeah?” carlos spoke out, hands trailing up the back of your thighs making it difficult to process his words, watching as his head tilted towards the other side of the garage.

you came to your senses, managing to ignore his touch as you quickly looked over. your stomach dropped when met with charles eyes, practically burning into yours.

oh for fuck sake.

that was only the beginning. it felt like an all out war, every interaction with either of them had become sort of competition.

charles had never been so open and bold with his touches and flirting, quite clearly trying to strike his claim in front of carlos without being subtle this time, no care in the world for anyone else figuring out he was fucking the photographer.

he pretended to be unbothered when you tried to mention it, playing dumb; shrugging it off.

‘i’m the one fucking you every weekend mon amour, why would i have to prove anything?’

carlos had a new wave of confidence, the fact he was getting some sort of reaction from his teammate. the way you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop either.

he had given you every opportunity, you weren’t innocent either. but how could you be to blame? the pair of them were so easy on the eye, and when they opened their mouths it didn’t make resisting them any easier.

you couldn’t tell if carlos was simply trying to rile charles up or if there was meaning to his flirting, but it didn’t matter; charles had ensured you didn’t get anywhere near him.

race after race he’d get to you first, dragging you off so you could help cheer him up; lack of podiums and mistakes that were being made by everyone but him had him in no mood to deal with anyone but you after races these days.

spain he had plenty of time to whisk you away considering his car gave out on him. monaco you yourself had avoided carlos, a night with charles that consisted of both comfort and sex. azerbaijan you felt an odd sense of deja vu when carlos returned to the garage early.

you were in the middle of contemplating seeing him when charles also retired from the race, your mind being made for you as the monegasque as always made a beeline for you.

surprise, surprise; canada came around and by the time carlos finished celebrating his podium and media duties you were already long gone, bent over the bathroom sink of charles hotel room.

come silverstone the tension was now insufferable.

just your luck, you were on filming duty ━ stuck in the confined space of a car, opposite the pair of them who looked so close, all buddy buddy as charles watched the f3 race on his phone.

camera in hand the job you were doing was incredibly easy, sat in front of carlos directly, the feeling of your knees touching was oh so prominent in your mind.

you knew you were being excessive, you had more than enough footage but turning off the camera seemed terrifying. camera appropriate conversation sounded much more pleasant to you.

but you had to stop, ending record before the camera sat in your lap, drawing carlos’ eyes to you and you immediately wanted to press record again and use the camera as a shield.

“you didn’t congratulate me on my podium hermosa,” carlos hummed out; having not spoken to you since canada, your lips parting as charles attention was gained, eyes shifting upwards onto carlos as well.

“hm, well it was hard to reach you. everyone wanted a word.” you excused, a playful eye-roll and small smile an attempt to shift the conversation away from the direction you predicted it going in.

the honest answer was you being with charles instead. carlos knew that. you knew he knew. charles knew he knew.

“i was looking for you,” carlos didn’t let you try play it off, not sound accusing despite it feeling that way, your lips parting but you had no answer.

charles did however, an amused smile spreading on his face.

“not hard enough obviously,” the monegasque chimed ━ dimples shining through as he smiled innocently, the chuckle carlos let out making you swallow intently as your eyes scanned the pair of them.

this was ridiculous, a part of you almost wanted to snap and just point out the obvious here. what all three of you knew but weren’t addressing explicitly.

“i was meaning to text you. sorry,” you got back to the point of the conversation, a genuine smile forming on your face and carlos almost lost sight of his goal to piss charles off as you did so, mirroring your smile right back.

“that’s okay, you can make it up to me.” he grinned, and you didn’t miss the way his hand brushed over your knee ━ your smile not fading as you nodded ever so slightly.

your eyes quickly fell onto charles, who was looking down at his phone again. his mind was anywhere but however, paying full attention to the conversation you two were having, feeling your eyes on him he was quick to look up at you.

a simple smirk, nothing more; and carlos was not any refuge from charles either, suddenly feeling incredible claustrophobic in the small car with the pair of them.

much to your relief the car came to a stop, back at the hospitality and unlike you, you were first out; a beeline to the ferarri suite to have an unneeded debrief with your manager.

“try my drivers room next time. can assure you she’ll be there,” charles muttered out to carlos as the pair of them began to split ways on the walk from the car, carlos not able to hide his scoff ━ although he did laugh as well.

“good to know mate.” carlos hummed out, voice full of sarcasm but it didn’t stop the smile on his face, charles matching it. the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, but to the cameras and fans around they looked like two happy teammates; closer than ever, grinning over some inside joke.

this is a happy house; we’re happy here, in our happy house

oh this is fun. fun, fun, fun, fun

silverstone seemed to be the boiling point for all things ferarri.

you were practically wincing every moment as the end of the race unfolded, the strategic errors and bitter sweetness of carlos’ win weighing heavy through out the ferarri garage.

ecstatic for carlos, of course you were. but like everyone else you knew that in terms of the bigger picture ferarri had fucked up. again. and charles had got the short end of the stick.

a ferarri win through and through but it wasn’t so simple, and your eyes hadn’t left the monegasque as he got out the car.

footage for all to see of mattia speaking to him, and like always you had the urge to comfort immediately. seek him out, offer your praise, whatever he wanted.

it was becoming way too often however, needing to cheer him up instead of celebrate. you felt for the driver.

but then there was carlos, the biggest smile you had ever seen on his face and it had you smiling; especially as you captured it all on camera.

he was practically glowing, and while you stood there below the podium, photographing him and the team ━ you were well aware of the conflicting emotions being felt throughout the team and fans.

you almost laughed really, it was how you had been feeling for weeks now. stuck between a rock and a hard place with the two of them, happy for one ━ wanting to console the other, vice versa.

welcome to my world, you thought.

“wait for me yeah?” was all you got from charles in passing as he went off to do his media obligations, and you were quick to nod your head, wanting to frown at the disheartened look on his face and flat tone.

“of course,” you were quick to reply, a small smile only getting you a half one in return before he was on his way.

photographs of the car and team rounded out your day, talk and chatter of the whole team photo creating confusion before finally you were placed in front of the large group.

camera in hand you were quite happy to just take the shot, leaving the directing to the pr officers by your side.

your eyes kept darting. charles, who was staring right back at you the entire time. you saw through the fake smiles, noticing the way his jaw kept ticking every few moments, how deep in thought he seemed every time he looked over you.

it felt selfish to say you were excited for him to finally get his hands on you later, but he appeared to be in the same boat with the looks he kept giving you.

carlos had offered you a couple cheesy grins, well and truly occupied with everyone around him. you felt so torn every time you looked at him, the urge to celebrate and congratulate him not making you feel one bit guilty despite his teammate to the left of him.

finally you got the shot, and before you knew it the crowd was either gathering around the spaniard or disbanding.

the moment the camera was out of your hand charles had found you, no shame as he tugged you away from the crowd, so quickly you failed to notice carlos’ eyes following the pair of you.

“if you want━” you started to speak once in the confined space of the hallway to the drivers rooms, although you were cut off by charles having you against the wall and his lips on yours, a sudden relief for the driver.

you shut up, not that you had a choice; happily kissing back as your hands lifted to his cheek ━ not at all concerned that this was in view of anyone to walk by. he didn’t seem fazed, and you were quite eager to let charles do as he pleased. god knows he needs it.

“don’t wanna talk about it,” charles muttered, coming to his senses, hand gripping onto your wrist as he lead you to the door frame and inside the drivers room, shutting the door by pushing you against it.

you were taken back by your surroundings but weren’t given long to take them in because his lips were on yours again, a noise of appreciation leaving your lips as he pressed his hips into yours.

it wasn’t until a few moments later, when charles was kissing down your jaw and neck that you could scan the room again.

“charles,” you whined, attempting to sound normal as he sucked harshly at your skin, hands squeezing tightly on your waist. “this━ not your room,” you stumbled out.

it didn’t stop him though, he carried on ━ kissing down your skin as you were left to pant and look confused, attempting to clear your head and think straight about why the fuck you were in carlos’ drivers room.

but that was proving difficult with charles all over you, everywhere; filling every damn sense.

“charles,” you repeated through a breath ━ the driver only offering you a hum as he put all his attention on the way your body was curving and moving to every kiss and trail of his lips and fingers.

“wrong room.” you managed to speak, watching as charles pulled back; but instead of being met with confused or shocked eyes, he simply shrugged.

“don’t want to congratulate our winner?” charles asked, hand moving to caress your cheek every so lightly as your eyebrows furrowed, unsure what he was trying to imply as you stood there speechless.

you watched as he chuckled, a fake one that was not his usual contagious laugh.

“big day for the guy, why not let him join? can see he’s dying too.” charles hummed out, and you were beyond confused and it showed, lips parting and cheeks bright red as you shook your head slightly.

carlos? join you two?

“what happened to not sharing,” you breathed, hands holding onto the edge of his ferarri polo, eyes scanning his face desperately to try get a read on him and whatever was going on in his pretty head.

he had his poker face on though, you couldn’t figure him out for the life of you.

“you want him.” charles hummed, raising his eyebrow to give you room to object, but you couldn’t. he wasn’t lying, and you knew it was obvious. “consider it me being a great teammate. again.” he practically grumbled, shrugging his shoulders.

your eyes rolled at this, shaking your head ever so slightly. you didn’t buy it. of all days for charles to come up with this sort of idea? weird. very weird.

“you want to do this now?” you almost had laughed, still in disbelief, skeptically looking at him as he nodded in certainty, your eyes squinting ━ still unconvinced.

“want to remind him he’s still the second man. so yes.” charles mumbled, confident in his words but quiet in tone as if he couldn’t admit it to anyone else. suddenly it made sense, your heart beat increasing at the mere thought of the pair of them at the same time.

“i’d be happy to have you all to myself next door though mon ange, up to you,” charles interrupted your thoughts ━ well and truly letting you decide, although he had a pretty good inkling on what you would want.

you were happy to play whatever part in charles trying to prove a point, if it meant having the pair of them on your skin at the same time you couldn’t really care less.

was it incredibly unprofessional of you? maybe.

but in your defence the pair of them… okay well you had put the move on carlos, but the pair of them are the ones who keep adding fuel to the fire that is sexual tension.

your silence almost worried charles, but the monegasque was so certain in his thoughts; meaning he wasn’t too surprised when your hands were pushing him back to the couch filling carlos’ drivers room, a small grin; the first one for a few hours, tugging on his features as you climbed on his lap.

charles was bringing you down for another kiss without another word, hand tangling in your hair as your own hands spread on his shoulder ━ his other hand moving to hold your hip.

you would’ve felt slightly invasive about being in carlos’ room, but then he was guiding your hips over his ━ the friction having your murmuring into the monegasque mouth before gasping as his hand laid a smack on your ass, quickly turning into a small giggle as you moved your own lips to his neck.

“you’re so confident he’ll wanna join?” you mumbled out against his skin, charles letting out a sigh of content as his head fell back; a rare time where he let you do whatever you pleased, his hands resting on your ass.

“mhm,” charles hummed ━ eyes closing as you pressed kisses against the column of his throat, slightly relaxed at the feeling that he had been craving since stepping out of the ferarri car. “sure of it.”

the door swung open moments later, causing you to sit up straight as your head peered over your shoulder; the sight of a stunned carlos having a few doubts entering your mind.

you wished you shared the same confidence as the driver beneath you, but you didn’t.

“what is this?” carlos looked visibly surprised, the view would’ve been great if you took away his teammate beneath you. for a moment he thought he had the wrong room, but that was definitely his helmet set aside.

definitely his bag. definitely his name on the door.

“thought we could celebrate mate.” charles spoke up, and carlos could see right through the fake smile he had plastered on. it matched the one he’d been carrying around the team ever since the podium, but it didn’t little to bother him ━ much more intrigued by your big eyes staring at him.

you couldn’t help but stare, the sight of the driver and the prospect of finally feeling him again enough to have your mind in the gutter, making the bold move of climbing off of charles lap

“if you want to of course,” you hummed with a sweet smile, an innocent one that carlos recognised as you approached him ━ your hand pushing on the door to shut it, carlos full attention now on you.

charles watched, hands folded behind his head where he sat on the couch. he had to take a small breath as your arms moved to wrap around carlos’ neck, a glimpse of doubt flashing through his mind.

no. this would be worth it. the end goal was to have carlos hearing the way you screamed his name, to give him a taste of what he couldn’t have ever again.

carlos could not find any reason to object as you leaned up onto your tippy toes, his head titled down to look at you ; practically entranced as you beamed up at him.

“you deserve it though,” you spoke quietly this time, hands running down his chest as you bit down on your bottom lip, the spaniard feeling the blood rush straight to his cock as he got flashbacks from the feeling of your touch.

he almost kissed you, almost; hand grabbing your jaw and stopping you moments before your lips made contact, his head moving to look at charles as he kept yours in place.

“you’re fine with this?” carlos quizzed, not sounding at all convinced ━ a blind man could see charles was not exactly comfortable with the image in front of him, no longer able to muster the energy to fake a smirk nor smile.

“his idea,” you interrupted; hands moving to guide carlos’ head to face you once more. “now kiss me before he changes his mind,” you grinned, and carlos didn’t need to be told twice.

the high of the adrenaline still rushing through his veins had him not at all conceded about the repercussions of quite literally sharing you with charles in the condiment of his drivers room, nothing could kill his mood ━ and you were only boosting it as your lips messily moved in sync.

the heated kiss was accompanied by his hands roaming your body, tugging you into his front as the built up tension finally got some relief. your body practically melting into his and your almost forgot charles was here.

that was never going to slide though, the monegasque making his presence known quite easily as you felt him press up against your back, his semi hard cock poking your ass while his hands grabbed your hips.

you hadn’t even heard him stand up, but you definitely felt his lips attaching to your neck ━ sandwiched between the two drivers your mind grew foggy incredible quickly, barely able to register charles hand snaking around your waist; slipping under the waistband of your pants and panties.

“oh,” you moaned into the kiss with carlos, eyes fluttering open as your hand moved to grip the spaniards arm from the very sudden contact you hadn’t been expecting.

the sound had carlos eyes opening, leaning away as he looked down between your bodies, spotting charles hand relatively quickly.

he wasn’t complaining though, not when you were looking into his eyes as your face contorted with slight pleasure. he watched as your cheeks went a tint of red, your eyes suddenly trying to avoid his because you thought you may melt under the intense stare.

“i gotta say princesa this is quite the sight,” carlos hummed out, licking his lip as his hands remained above your hips, charles still working the lower region; not wasting any time as he slid a finger inside of you, catching you completely off guard once more because usually he would take his time and have you squirming first. “didn’t know you were such a slut,” he comment, happily watching as you gripped onto him for dear life.

you were trying desperately to keep quiet, whimpers escaping your lips ━ carlos’ words not being any help. charles smirked ever so slightly, head leaning up from your neck; feeling you clench around his fingers was no surprise, but gave him all the reassurance that he needed in knowing this was the right thing to do. you were already loving every moment.

“there’s a lot you don’t know about her carlos,” charles hummed matter of factly, eyes meeting his teammate as if he wasn’t fingering you right now; carlos raising a brow as he resisted the urge to scoff, not too rushed in looking to charles instead of you.

“know she looked beautiful bouncing on my cock a few weeks ago,” carlos replied just as casually, the first mention between the two drivers of what they both knew; the unspoken ‘secret’ finally not unspoken.

but it wasn’t as if you could give any input, maybe if charles wasn’t toying with your cunt perfectly ━ with the obvious goal to get you off as quickly as possible, you would’ve rolled your eyes and pointed out how ridiculous the pair of them have been as of recent.

but instead you could only moan ━ carlos using the opportunity to slide his fingers in your mouth as a way to shut you up, your eyes immediately opening wide and looking up at him.

“looks even better in the sheets.” charles continued to one up, not even knowing if there was any truth to his words; all he knew was he took pride in the fact you were in his bed every weekend.

carlos had you on his sofa.

“can tie her up there. she likes that,” charles was grinning widely, quite happily sharing information that he knew carlos would in no way know. things that just weren’t possible for him that one time in imola.

all the while your legs were growing weak as you sucked on carlos’ fingers, tongue swirling around them to occupy yourself ━ body practically on fire from the way they were speaking, as if you weren’t even there.

carlos wasn’t phased. his smirk had not faltered in the slightest, seeing right through the monegasque and what he was trying to do. and he in no way wanted to give charles that satisfaction.

“we might have to try that sometime then hermosa, you want that?” carlos directed his full attention back to you, fingers leaving your lips to grab your jaw, leaving a line of spit on your chin as you moaned once more ━ nodding quickly at the question.

the cockiness in his tone, the way he was practically dismissing charles had you more turned on than you’d like to admit. even with charles fingers deep inside of you, you couldn’t help but be greedy and think of carlos having his way with you.

charles was not at all impressed with your lack of attention, the fact he couldn’t see your face was enough as it is, he was the one that had your legs beginning to give out; the reason your nails were certainly leaving indents on carlos’ skin.

“what was that amour?” charles spoke up, no shame in interrupting as his fingers that weren’t buried deep inside of you found your hair, tugging your head back and out of carlos’ grasp, leading you to put your eyes on him as he kept you in place.

your gasp was tuned out by carlos’ chuckle, deciding to watch in amusement and just enjoy the sight of you on the edge of an orgasm, body still so close to his. the vision of you cumming around him was engraved in his memory, but this was better than he remembered. better than what he keeps fantasising about.

he was certain you’d look even better if it was his fingers instead though.

“charles,” you breathed out, speaking a thousand words with one little mumble of his name. your eyes pleading with his. play nice, i’m sorry, let me cum, you’re being ridiculous, i’m close; just a few of the things going through your mind.

much to your dismay though, his fingers left you suddenly ━ your hips attempting to chase the contact as your knees buckled, carlos’ hands flying to your waist to steady you.

“think you should get on your knees and congratulate our winner doll. show him how proud you are yeah?” charles suggested, confusing both you and the spaniard at the change in attitude.

annoyed with your lack of attention now telling you to give it to carlos?

carlos’ eyes narrowed in suspicion once more, refusing to believe this was just fun as he could easily believe it to be.

no, he was certain charles wanted to be the one getting you off. and that charles was going to let you get himself off.

“actually,” carlos interrupted, halting you as you started to crouch down to your knees ━ more than eager to have him in your mouth. “think i want a taste of your pretty pussy instead.” carlos was speaking directly at you.

charles rolled his eyes, wanting to scoff ━ petty in his thoughts that carlos was most definitely suggesting something else just for the sake of it.

you too wanted to huff out at there ability to still be creating tension, while you’re quite literally here with soaked panties and willing to take either of them in either way.

“couldn’t care less on what either of you do to me.” you finally managed to get a say in, swallowing harshly as you tried to sound put together. “just stop treating it like a competition.” you sassed, and you would’ve laughed at the look of defence on the pair of them as they tried to play dumb at your observation.

“there’s no competition.” carlos was first to speak, hands finding the hem of your shirt as he pulled it over your head, charles grabbing the material off of him once it reached your arms and throwing it aside. “someone’s just threatened.” carlos repeated what he had said earlier, even winking as he quickly scooped you up in his arms.

charles did scoff this time, following the pair of you as carlos practically threw you onto the couch, getting on his knees before linking his arms under your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the sofa after doing so.

“you’re forgetting i’m the one letting you have a taste of her,” charles couldn’t help but get possessive, moving to the back of the couch as he brushed all your hair back and out of your face.

“both of you shut up,” you grumbled ━ breath hitching in your throat as carlos made quick work of getting rid of your pants and underwear, then positioning your legs over his shoulders.

“ah, ah,” carlos tsked ━ pressing kisses up your inner thighs slowly, charles left to watch above the pair of you ━ absentmindedly playing with your hair and running his finger tips over your tender neck. “don’t act like you don’t fucking love it,”

charles eyebrow raised slightly at the spaniards words, letting out a loud hum of agreement as he nodded quickly ━ not giving you time to speak once more.

“he’s right mon ange, acting like such a whore for both of us.” charles chimed in, your eyes focusing on his teammate who had your head in between your thighs who was now grinning at charles words.

oh for fuck sake.

“messing with both of us, can’t help yourself can you?” carlos questioned, kisses now surrounding where you needed him most, his nose and breath bumping and tickling your sensitive cunt every few moments, causing you to squirm and flinch.

“bet she’s been dreaming of this. both of us? that what you wanted all along baby?” charles egged on, and suddenly you were wishing you had let them continue their pointless one upping, because this had your heart racing, back arching and lips pouting as you struggled to take in every word.

“go on. answer us.” carlos instructed, not pleased with your silence as he kept your wiggling legs still with his arms wrapped around them.

you wanted to reply, defend yourself and point out that they weren’t entirely innocent either. that you didn’t mean to end up with both of them; it wasn’t your fault both of them were so damn fuckable.

so silence. again. displeasing both of the drivers, and you questioned whether you missed some sort of signal or glance, because a sudden tug of your hair was in sync with carlos laying a harsh tap on your clit, a loud and quick moan escaping your throat.

“words pretty girl,” charles cooed, sounding way too sweet for his tone to be genuine ━ you didn’t need to turn around to see him smirking wickedly, you could already tell from his tone.

“s’ not my fault,” you whined out, although you couldn’t sound annoyed for long as carlos’ tongue finally found a home on your clit, swiping through your folds first before flicking at your sensitive bud.

charles had chuckled at your inability to deny there words, hand moving to cover your mouth and muffle your moans while carlos ate you out, tongue working expertly; feeling better than you remembered.

the pair of them were working together in keeping you still on the couch, considering you almost orgasm had your body so responsive, which had charles growing hard as you thrashed and moaned into the palm of his hand, grateful that he was stopping you from letting everyone outside the thin walls know what was going on.

“should take a photo of you like this baby, think it proves we’re quite the happy team.” charles commented, vibrations being sent through your core as carlos chuckled against your pussy, hips pushing up against his face.

moans and incoherent mumbles were all you could manage, eyes rolling back as the pleasure rapidly built, quicker than before but you had no shame. you already guessed you stood no chance with the pair of them chatting in your ear and touching you.

“you’re not cumming till i say,” carlos had spoke up, fingers sliding inside you with ease due to how wet you were, lips then attaching to your clit; his movements now lacking pace, lazily thrusting his fingers as he swirled his tongue around your bud.

the perfect pace to keep you right on the edge, still enough to have your body shaking above him, pants and whines filling the air; but not enough to get you all the way, your hips bucking once more although he was quick to press them back down into the sofa.

“need to shut up love.” charles was speaking to you again, hand leaving your mouth and you tried oh so hard to stay quiet, hearing the buckle of his belt before charles had shuffled to the side of the couch, grabbing your hair and directing your head to his freed cock.

you took him in your mouth whole with little resistance, the hush groan from the driver enough to have your mind off your own pleasure for a moment, eyes watering as you gagged around him; entranced with the view above.

“go on,” charles instructed ━ letting go of your hair as you moaned around him when carlos curled his fingers inside you, a shot at your attention as you quickly began to bob your head up and down.

your efforts were made to suck charles off but you were still hyper aware of every movement and action carlos made, noticing the speed increase in his fingers as he slid a third finger in, sucking harshly at your clit.

your moans continued to be muffled, charles having to bite down harshly on his bottom lip to shut himself up from the vibrations you were sending around him with every whimper and moan, his hand finding a place in your hair again as he began to guide you once more.

you let him do as he pleased, before he was tugging you off his length and forcing your head down to face carlos, your teary eyes and swollen lips which were decorated by saliva that had gathered were the least of your concern when carlos met your eye.

the sight of you looking so ruined already had him wanting to send you over the edge, curling his fingers perfectly as you moaned loudly ━ charles fingers now slipping in your mouth as you came.

“shut up and take it.” charles grumbled out once more, free hand lazily jacking off as he watched your body come undone, back arching off the couch as you moaned around the monegasque’s fingers.

carlos was smirking against your cunt, helping you ride out your high as he gradually slowed his fingers down. you had to watch through hooded eyes as he sucked them clean, almost mirroring you with charles fingers still in your mouth.

“i’m fucking you now.” charles spoke, wanting no confusion or delays in getting his turn of you. he damn needed it, so much frustration he still wanted to let out.

he didn’t miss carlos’ eye roll, just how you didn’t miss the obvious tent in the spanish drivers pants ━ mouth watering at the sight but the knowledge charles was about to fuck you had you ready to go again, despite your already tiring body.

“hands and knees angel, come on,” charles encouraged ━ fingers leaving your mouth, tapping your cheek twice. carlos hands had left your still shaky legs, standing up so he could watch as you obediently got into position, facing the arm of the couch as you got settled on your hands and knees.

“such a good girl no?” carlos spoke up, appearing in front of you now although he was looking at charles, causing your cheeks to heat and thighs to press together, charles making it known he was now behind you as he quickly pushed your legs a little further apart.

“when she wants to be.” charles replied, slapping your ass for good measure which had you jolting forwards, carlos grinning as you did so, yet shook his head ever so slightly. once more ignoring charles petty attempts of power play.

you moaned at the feeling of charles tip running through your folds, once more pushing forward as your body attempted to escape the sensitivity, although his hand had made a grip on your hip to guide you back.

“would be good for me all the time,” carlos spoke certainly, hand cupping the side of your face as he crouched down next to the arm rest, so he was in your direct eye line. “wouldn’t you?” carlos was smiling widely, thumb brushing over the skin of your cheek.

you nodded quickly, a small sigh of content leaving your lips which was cut short by carlos connecting your lips in quite the lazy but still heated kiss, slower than the first one however, enjoying the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

charles once more was growing annoyed, plans to have you begging for him suddenly out the window. interrupting whatever this moment was much more preferable, getting comfortable in how he was half kneeling behind you ━ one foot on the ground and other knee on the couch, thrusting into you suddenly.

feeling him bottom out inside you had your ability to kiss back faltering, lips parting as you moaned, eyes rolling back from the stretch that would never fail to make you see stars.

“fuck, oh my god,” you moaned, the sound enough to boost the drivers ego once more as he quickly began to thrust in and out of you, not giving you as much time to adjust as he usually would ━ your noises already beginning to grow too loud once more.

carlos was happy watching for a moment, still crouched down ━ admiring the way your eyes rolled back, how your lips parted from the pleasure, your cheeks rosy red. his thumb gathered the saliva still tracing your chin, before pressing the pad of his thumb onto your tongue ━ slipping past your lips naturally.

you forced your eyes to open from the action, closing your lips around the drivers thumb before pulling back with a pop, carlos grunting before standing up.

it was deja vu, watching as carlos quickly freed his own cock ━ suddenly being shut up again as he guided your head towards him, your lips wrapping around his dick while charles continued to fuck you from behind.

“oh fuck,” carlos breathed out as his head fell back, hand loosely holding your hair to keep it out of your way, yet he allowed you to do all the work as you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head.

a harsher thrust from the driver behind you had your body moving forward once more, arms almost giving out on you as carlos’ cock hit the back of your throat.

“look so pretty letting both of us use you sweetheart,” carlos grunted out ━ forcing his brown eyes back down on to you and the sight that you were, charles kind enough to offer a grumble of agreement.

“could cum just like this couldn’t you? can feel the way you’re squeezing me baby,” charles groaned, hips snapping against yours harshly at a relentless pace, your reply not audible to either of them considering you had carlos’ dick down your throat.

the overstimulation felt like heaven, eyes shutting as you continued to take as much of carlos in your mouth as you could, choking every now and then but with little mind, feeling so full but only craving more of it.

your senses were full of the pair of them, there praises, moans and grunts getting mixed into one ━ tuning out of everything but the feeling of charles fucking you and the sight of carlos above you, his grip on your hair the only thing now stopping you from face planting into the couch.

“fuck━ gonna cum hermosa,” carlos rasped out, and you took the words as encouragement, quickly deep throating him once more. the gagging noise alongside your muffed moan around him had his dîck twitching, before he was cumming in your mouthed as he threw his head back.

you were quick to swallow and lick him clean with as much focus as you could while charles fucked you stupid before carlos pulled out of your mouth.

“i’m close,” was the first thing you managed to say, voice coming out hoarse due to the borderline face fucking you had received.

once more charles was swooping in, pulling you away from carlos once again as his hand wrapped around your hair, tugging you back so you were against his chest.

“you’re gonna have to beg for it chérie,” charles told you, fingers wrapping around your throat to keep you up ━ the other snaking around your waist to find your clit, causing you to whine as the new angle allowed for him to hit your g-spot.

“please,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut once more. carlos was watching again, heavy breaths from his own orgasm although he was sure he could cum again from the little show he was getting right now.

“you can do better than that.” charles kept it simple, his own head falling into the crook of your neck as he muffled his own groan against your skin, biting at your shoulder a few moments later which had you whimpering.

“please charles,” you tried to stay quiet despite the temptation to scream, the stimulation of your abused clit the perfect addition to his hard and deep thrusts. “please make me cum, please, please, please,” you begged, a scramble of pleas as you shook in his arms.

carlos felt that undeniable jealousy once more, hiding it like he had all night although it was harder to ignore in the current moment. your pleas for him, your willingness to do so a cruel reminder of how common this was for the pair of you.

how uncommon it was for him. unheard of.

charles was grinning now, eyes flashing to carlos for a brief moment before picking up the pace of his fingers, pressing kisses to your neck again.

“who’s pussy is this hm?” charles questioned, and even in your fucked out state you knew exactly why he was posing the question to you, well aware he didn’t want to hear your answer. he wanted carlos to.

carlos knew it too, visibly tensing at the question despite it just being another bit of go to dirty talk, he wasn’t stupid. but he also couldn’t bring himself to look away, his own pride falling second to the opportunity to watch you cum again.

“yours,” you barely spoke above a whisper, eyes squeezed shut as your jaw hanged open, unable to keep up with the way he was pounding into you, so focused on trying to keep your whines and moans quiet.

“who?” charles huffed, pretending he didn’t hear you as he slapped your clit once, a high pitch moan tumbling from your throat, unable to control yourself anymore.

“yours charles. all yours, fuck, please,” you moaned out, stumbling over your words as you saw white, cumming on his dîck suddenly as you went limp in his arms despite your arching back.

charles helped you ride out your high, a satisfied smirk settling nicely onto his features, and for the first time ever he was not interested in seeing you cum.

“all mine.” charles spoke out in agreement, eyes meeting his teammates as he did so. carlos couldn’t hide his annoyance anymore, the slight tick of his jaw obvious, not when charles was looking at him so smugly. as if your little confirmation through your orgasm wasn’t enough, charles was sure to add the cherry on top.

‘all mine.’ he repeated, only mouthing it this time for the spanish driver to see.

message received, loud and clear.

━━

a/n: so that’s that 😀

unedited atm like usual bare with me pls hehe

part 283849 of me not liking my work but it’s okay these celebration fics are me wanting to try a few things different, although i just can’t picture charles the way i wrote him here but it’s fine

anyways i hope u enjoyed, i love u all sm sm sm all feedback is encouraged or any thoughts u have i love reading/hearing from y’all so so much <333

[whrsmym1nd]

team effort ✴︎ cl16, cs55

genre: 18+, pwp (very little plot), filthy, fem!reader 

word count: 3.3k 

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but now you’re in-between your boyfriend and his teammate again. So really, maybe, this could become a regular thing. (sequel of sorts to this but can stand alone just fine)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… alright. a threesome, penetrative sex, anal sex, oral sex (M receiving), handjob (F receiving), double penetration (crowd leaves), dirty talk (degradation), crying, breeding, rough sex, size kink, requires suspension of belief regarding the inner workings of anal and positions apologies, spit kink (crowd leaves again)

probably the most requested thing i get, and i felt like practicing my pwp writing so—i hope you like it everyone! :) love auds

“Hey, you brought the pretty girl,” teases Carlos, a glass of alcohol in hand. He pushes it into Charles’ hand and you watch as your boyfriend takes a sip, vision semi-obstructed by how dark the place is. “Mind if I get a picture?”

“Course I did.” Charles smiles, and his left eye drops into a subtle wink. “And sure, she begged to come anyway.” His teammate laughs. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. Come say hi to the others.”

Your face turns hot when it registers what he’s just said, but it’s too late to get a quip in; a gentle hand at your waist is guiding you through the crowd of people, by the DJ booth, and into the seats just beside it populated by several familiar faces. You accept and return a few hellos and heeeys from Lando and Pierre, among others, and when a shot is offered to you by Danny, you take it.

Charles lets you wander around the area for a while to get used to the place, watches you laugh about something with Carmen and try your hand at the DJ table with Lando, combing your hair over to one side. You take a few shots because George feels like “letting loose” (he takes two). 

He sees a patch of concealer just below your collarbone; granted, it’d have been hidden if you were wearing something less low-cut than your dress right now, but he spots it and he immediately realizes what it is with an amused laugh.

When his eyes glide upward from your cleavage, he finds you’re already looking at him, eyes half-lidded and mouth tugged into a pretty smile. He sees you excuse yourself, walking right into his arms, pouting. He tips his glass over to your lips, pours some of his drink in.

“What’s the matter, baby? Wanna smoke?” He leans against the railing of the VIP area, seating himself there and pulling you close so you’re pressed up against him. You inhale his scent, his cologne, nip at his jaw. You always get so touchy when you’ve got some alcohol in you.

There’s a blunt or three being passed around, you smell it. “Nothing. I think ‘m getting a little tipsy, I don’t want to crossfade.” You blink and it’s like your eyelids are droopy with honey. The party’s thick with the heady scent of tequila, mixed perfume, weed, and saturated with heavy bass. If you’re totally honest you’ve lost track of time.

“There you are,” goes a voice, and you tense. 

“I was looking for you, too, mate.” Your boyfriend’s arm reaches to someone behind you and shakes. “Girlfriend’s feeling a bit tipsy.” He pulls his hand back in, rests it over your the small of your back. 

“You okay?” Carlos leans in, his voice hot against your ear. You blink, in a daze of tipsy and hot, nodding. You’re in between them now, still pressed against your boyfriend. Slowly, your head lolls onto Carlos’ shoulder, exposing your neck. If you stepped back just a bit, you realize—

—you’d feel Carlos’ dick pressed against your ass. “A little tired,” you say, opening your eyes to meet your boyfriend’s. Normally they’re green, but now they’re so dark you can barely tell. The limited lighting doesn’t help. Your knees are weak with the way you resist the urge to grind back onto Carlos, who’s laughing, observing your ditzy face. 

“Let’s get you out of here, huh?” Charles smiles. He’s always so sweet. Doing what you want, what you need, a nice guy in that respect. So he can take what he wants later. He and Carlos down the rest of their drinks, and they’re both ushering you out the back exit and directly into the parking lot.

It’s a direct replay of what happened a few months ago, and what happened a few times afterward. After dinners, races, nights out—it wasn’t too frequent, but enough that it became a thing. Enough, too, that you could grow antsy if it didn’t happen for too long. 

Your boyfriend brought a different car today, his Range Rover with a spacious backseat you’re being guided into. The lack of heavy bass and strobe lights help you feel more sober, but don’t help with the arousal at all. As you climb, your dress hikes up a bit, and Carlos catches a peek of your panties underneath, white and almost see-through, showing the outline of your pussy.

They’re on either side of you, your breath hitching when they lean in closer, lip caught between your teeth and eyes screwed shut. Your boyfriend’s hand grazes your thigh and you spread your legs, involuntary, sighing a low please. Please what, you don’t even know.

“You want this?” Charles asks. He takes things slowly, a dreamy smile on his face, eyebrows knitted together. His hand moves upward, and he runs a few teasing fingers over the lace of your white panties, pressing them harder until you’re starting to squirm, breathless ahs leaving your lips.

“Please,” you say, voice small and desperate. “Yes.”

Your approval makes them more excited; they’ve both missed this more than they’re willing to let on. Your mouth is half open, letting out noises, eyes half-open; Carlos wonders what you’d look like covered in cum. Both his and Charles’, splayed all over your pretty waiting face.

The first time this happened, Carlos watched for the most part. He’d been chained to the driver’s seat, listening to the wet noises of Charles’ fingers fucking into you. He made eye cotnact with you right as you came, a long, drawn-out moan leaving your mouth. He fucked you another time. And he’s missed the feeling. He’s missed the sight of your fucked-out face, moaning on his cock, or his teammate’s, or both.

You press your lips to Charles and he encourages you to part them, slowly deepening the kiss until you’re moaning into his mouth, hips bucking up into nothing. “Please,” you say, “give me something.” Anything, you’ll take anything.

Carlos brings two big fingers to his mouth, laves his tongue over them, and brings them to the apex of your thighs, pushing aside the lace and fucking them into you, one by one. You gasp into Charles’ mouth—his fingers are so thick, pumping in and out at a brutal pace without waiting for you to adjust to the strength. You whimper, breaking the kiss because everything’s too much, head leaning back and eyes meeting the grey ceiling of the car.

“God, she’s wet.” You hear the teasing smile without looking up. “And tight.”

“I know,” your boyfriend says, smiling as he sucks a hickey onto your throat. Your legs quiver. 

It’s Charles’ voice again, sweet and deep against your ear. “Feel good?”

“Yes,” you say, nodding eagerly, lifting your head up and looking right at him. 

“Thank him,” he orders. They always do this, make you talk and use your words when your brain is all scrambled and going a thousand different directions. It’s only worse when they start talking about you like you’re not there, using dirty words and sliding into native languages you can’t understand, but they can, and they laugh watching you whimper for more.

“Thank—thank you,” you whisper, turning from your boyfriend’s face to Carlos.

“You’re welcome, princesa. You’re going to make us feel good, too, right?”

You nod.

“Why don’t you start now?” The instruction comes from Charles and you follow suit, hands going from your sides to the tents in their jeans, grabbing at the huge bulges there. You’re losing grip, Carlos’ big fingers are moving faster, feeling your orgasm approach faster. 

Already? Shiiit, your boyfriend says with a low laugh. Go ahead and cum first, baby. Go ahead.

His words are so sweet, kissing up and down your neck, the stimulation pushing you further until you’re cumming from just two fingers. The messy squelch of Carlos’ fingers moving in and out of you gets them both so hard, aching to fuck you, take you apart, make your voice raw. Your moans grow louder and louder, legs trying to close around the hand in between them—they’re held open by two free hands and you have to lie there and take it.

“‘M cumming,” you gasp, tension bursting inside you, pussy contracting around Carlos’ digits. You squeeze at their bulges again, wishing you had the coherency to undo the buttons and the zips. They get the message, undoing their jeans just enough to pull out their cocks.

“Wanna suck you off,” you say, turning to Charles. Shyly, you add, “Both of you.”

The only way to do that is by kneeling on the limited floor space of the car. There’s not much space, and you shuffle around a few times, but eventually you find a position, legs folded and on your knees, in between the two of them.

They’re both looking down at you with dark eyes and devious, teasing grins that feel downright evil, hands wrapped loosely around their cocks. They jack themselves off a few times, and you hoist yourself up higher to watch closely, brows furrowed.

“Open your mouth,” Carlos says sharply, tone low and rushed. You obey, sticking your tongue out, and watch as he rubs the precum off his tip and onto your tongue. He laughs, looking at your boyfriend. “Look at that. Like that?”

“Yea,” you mutter, turning a bit to let your boyfriend to the same, letting your spit drip down from the tip so the glide is easier. He slaps your cheek with it, laughs at the way you pout, and advises Carlos to do the same. You turn again, taking Carlos into your mouth until he’s prodding at the back of your throat and it’s wet all over.

They love seeing you like this—with their precum being smeared al over your shiny, spit-covered cheeks and lips, tongue peeking out to get a taste every time they drag their cocks closer to your mouth. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“Sucks dick like she was made for it,” Carlos says, punctuating his sentence with a quip in Italian. They both laugh as you gag around Charles’ dick, jerking Carlos off messily. You’re choking, precum coating the back of your throat and wrist wearing out.

“You look so pretty, baby.” Your boyfriend says, grunting with pleasure.

“Pretty lips, too, yeah?” Carlos says, his hand shadowing yours and making you jack him off faster.

“She can’t reply, Carlos. Too busy gagging on my dick,” Charles says, and your eyes well up with embarrassment that you’ve basically soaked through your panties from their words alone. You want them to cum, cover your lips and eyelashes with them so you can scoop it off and let them watch you swallow it. Be good for them, their good girl.

But they never like cumming if it’s not in you, or after they’ve been in you, so you anticipate the way you’re guided off your boyfriend’s cock by your hair. They tug your head backwards, a bit on the edge of roughly, exposing the column of your throat, littered with spit and lovebites.

Your pussy is getting wetter, dripping through your panties and onto your legs folded underneath. It’s the first thing they inspect when they heave you back into the middle of the backseat, bent over Carlos’ lap so your ass is on full display for Charles and, if he cranes his head, Carlos, too.

It’s humiliating. Your mind’s so hazy you can barely tell whose hands are whose, groping at your ass, pulling away the lace to reveal your puffy, wet cunt and letting the thin strip of fabric snap back to make you yelp. Two fingers push into you, going fast instantly until you’re sobbing for them to slow down. It’s Charles. You can tell because you feel the metal of his rings.

There’s a third at that point, stretching you out further, getting you even wetter and more desperate. You cum easily, overstimulated, tears rolling down your spit-streaked face as you quiver with it, blinking them away as you’re guided back into the middle. They maneuver themselves so they’re facing each other, your pussy right above Carlos’ tip, which is just beside your boyfriend’s.

You’re itching to sit yourself down, feel the familiar stretch of his dick, big and barely fitting when he stuffs himself inside you. It’s addictive. But there’s something Charles wants to do first, evident because he’s not yet letting you ride Carlos, his big hands bruising at your hips. “We’ve done enough to your pretty pussy, haven’t we? Your lips, too, that cute mouth.” He coos, almost. “But there’s something we haven’t even touched tonight, baby.”

Carlos’ hands spread your cheeks apart and Charles’ spit-soaked thumb rubs over your tight hole, causing you to shiver. Oh, God. You squirm above their laps, heart beating with nerves and arousal, pussy rubbing over the tips of their dicks as you go. “I’m nervous,” you whimper.

“Aw, go give Carlos a kiss,” your boyfriend says, his voice teasing and goading. You lean forward, slotting your mouth onto Carlos’ soft lips, parting them with your tongue immediately. He gets you all needy when you kiss him, smiling and enjoying your mindless, needy little grinds. As you kiss him, messy with spit and tongues colliding, you feel fingers teasing you again.

You whimper, Carlos’ hands roughly pulling the low-cut top of your dress down to grope at your tits, roughing them up, flicking your nipples. You moan out loud, caught up in the multiple sensations; your boyfriend loosens you up until his finger goes deep, deeper, bottoming out and stretching your ass out.

He collects some of your slick to lube another finger up, stuffing two into your tiny little hole. You gasp with the new feeling, lips open against Carlos’, who wraps a hand around your throat to guide you into kissing him again. Distractions. Pleasure.

“Jesus, she’s tight,” Charles says, not addressing you at all.

“She’s being really good for me up here,” Carlos replies, squeezing your tits. “Taking everything I give her.”

“Give me more,” you beg, licking over his lips until he’s parting them to kiss you messily all over again. You’re unaware, lost in the numb pleasure and dull painful stretch, that there are three buried in your ass now. He should prep more, Charles figures, but he’s impatient, just wanting to wreck you already, fuck moans out of you until you’re crying.

He nudges the tip of his dick against your ass, slipping the head in and listening to your ohhh as he goes, groaning. It hurts, Charles, you whisper, but your whine is swallowed into a kiss. 

“Relax, baby,” he says, gritting his teeth. “Just relax.”

You’re so tight, squeezing him so, so tight as he bottoms out.

You’re clenching around him so hard he could cum, pump all his cum in you and watch it leak out. But he’s patient. He’s sweet. He lets Carlos finally coax his own cock up your cunt, where the glide’s easier, but the stretch now is unfathomable. You blink tears out of your eyes, ones of pain that slowly become unbelievable pleasure, moans spilling forth from your lips, slick gushing out of your puffy cunt.

Carlos thrusts upward, deep, and eventually Charles finds a rhythm too, your legs spread and eyes rolling back with how fast they’re slamming into you. You want to move, you want to avoid the pleasure from how overwhelming it is, the way it feels when they both bottom out at the same time ans you can feel the way your stomach bulges with Carlos’ cock.

“Slow down,” you whine, but they only laugh, watching your face grow more sweaty and flushed and debauched.

“Feel good?” Charles asks. “Use your words, love.”

“S—so fucking good,” you say, words punched out of you thrust by thrust. Carlos leans forward, brings his flushed forehead just flush of yours, both of you bobbing in time with their thrusts, and spits messily into your half-open mouth. Most enters, some splatters over your lips, and your eyes darken with it. You’re certain you’ve cum again just from that.

“Swallow it,” he laughs. “Be a good slut.” His eyes break from yours and meet Charles’, and they exchange a few quips in Italian before your boyfriend’s hand is raking you backwards, leaning over and spitting again. He pushes your cheek around a little, laughing at your docile, fucked-out face.

“Swallow that now,” he says. “Both of them.”

Obediently, you shut your lips, your whimpers pausing as you swallow their spit down. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment.

“There you go,” Carlos says. You’re absolutely falling apart on their dicks, wet and messy and hot, your legs quivering with it. Carlos slams up harder, pressing your lips together again so he can feel your moans, hear your cute little voice saying Carlos please let me cum  right by his ear.

He pulls out, moving himself higher to use your mouth instead; the added space gives Charles the opportunity to fully bend you over, on your knees and too weak to use your elbows, face smushed against Carlos’ dick. You’re shaking, pussy still trembling and tears of overstimulation rolling down your cheek. You’re struggling to take his dick well, but Charles keeps fucking you, determined to finish.

He pushes you down so your back arches deeper, your lips parted around Carlos’ huge cock. “That’s right,” he groans. “Take it, come on, be a good girl for me.”  

“She’s so tight still,” he says to Carlos. The latter’s hand strokes over your hair, pulls at it, grips at either side of your throat so he can fuck your face properly. He fucks your throat hard, watches you cough and squirm around his spit-coated cock, his balls slapping your face every time he bottoms out. He’s close—Charles is close—and you’ve cum twice again now, pulling off and whimpering I’m cumming— before finishing, gushing release all over your thighs.

“It’s our turn now,” Charles orders. They pull you off at the same time, and you go on your knees again on the floor, gazing up at them with big eyes and a flushed, pretty face, lips pink and puffy from having just been fucked. 

You reach two hands up and jerk them both off again, both their hands guiding you to go faster, faster and faster until—

You flinch, the first hot spurt landing just on your cheek, then your lips, then a bit on your nose. Somewhere in between, Carlos presses his tip to your lips, coaxing them open so he can shoot cum on your tongue and chin. They lean back, collapsing onto the backseat, heaving sighs.

They both look down at you, your nasty, cum-coated face, smiling up at both of them. Carlos blinks a couple times and then smiles. “Hey, mind if I get a picture?”

[whrsmym1nd]

Pool Pitstop | C² Boys

Request: You know…there’s something about this ad Maybe Carlos n Charles splitting reader open on the pool table?

Summary: Charles and Carlos enter your bar right when you were ready to start closing, but instead of becoming frustrated, it might've just made your night.

Warnings: 18+ smut, threesome, oral, unprotected sex, choking, fingering.

Pairing: carlos x fem!reader x charles

wc: 4.1k

You looked at the clock hung up on the wall, sighing in relief as the last person left. You only had a few minutes til you could start closing, and for the first time since you became the owner of this bar, you would actually leave on time.

You picked up the glasses left on the countertop and turned around to place them in the sink when you heard the front door bell jingle, indicating someone's arrival.

Turning around, you were just about to tell the person that you were closing the bar, however your words got stuck in your throat as you looked at the two men who entered.

There was no doubt that they were attractive, but due to your silence after looking at them, one of them began to sit down on the barstool while the other stood behind him.

The one who was still standing looked around, noticing the lack of people around and decided to ask, "is this place still open?" You noticed his accent, telling you that he wasn't from around here. It sounded similar to French, but you could be wrong considering the only 'accent' you knew were the fake ones people tried once they were drunk out of their minds.

The corner of your lip turned up, at least he had the common decency to ask, and just for that you nodded. "Honestly I was about to start closing, but take a seat."

The man who was standing finally decided to sit beside his friend. "Oh good, every other bar in the area was closed." He explained, a smile gracing his lips revealing dimples, which you just newly discovered you had a weak spot for.

You raised an eyebrow in question, "it is nearing two in the morning, you guys should've been out earlier in the evening."

"We're just passing by, making a short pitstop before we're back on the road." The other man spoke, his accent was different telling you that neither men were from around here.

"Well which one of you is driving?" You asked, not wanting to be responsible for a drunk driver. The one with the dimples pointed to the other man, "Carlos' driving, he doesn't think I'm good enough," he says with an exaggerated eye roll.

Carlos shrugged, "well I hate being the passenger, but Charles' on-road driving skills are questionable," he explained to you, earning another eye roll from Charles.

You chuckled at their antics, settling your palms on the countertop. "What will you have, Charles?"

His smile returned to his face and he thought for a moment, "a Moscow mule, please." You nodded, and started gathering the ingredients to make the drink.

"And you, Carlos, anything non-alcoholic?" You asked, not wanting to leave him out but he shook his head.

Carlos' eyes wandered around the bar, eyes widening in surprise when he spotted the pool table in the back corner.

While Charles was casually speaking to you, or as Carlos would describe it; using his charm, the Spaniard decided to walk towards the pool table.

Picking up the cue, he turned to look at Charles with a playful smile on his face. "Charlito, do you want to play?"

Charles looks at him for a moment before turning back to face you with raised eyebrows, silently questioning if they were allowed to play.

You set his drink down in front of him and nodded, "you can play."

He didn't budge, "are you sure? I don't want to keep you here too long." You bit your lip to hide your smile, "yes, I need to clean up anyways and that'll take a while so you two can stay until then."

Fortunately, none of your staff were present; otherwise, they would have poked fun at you about allowing Charles and Carlos to stay when you used to enforce the rule of no stragglers after two.

Charles picks up his drink, takes a sip and hums in agreement before walking over to Carlos.

The boys set up the game, and laughter is quickly heard thought out the bar making your ears perk up at the sound. You watch them from behind the bar, resting your elbows on the countertop, almost forgetting about needing to clean up.

You had a clear view of the pool table from where you stood, watching the men closely, specifically Carlos as he held the cue, about to make his shot.

Slightly leaning over the pool table, Carlos has positioned the cue stick but before he moved an inch, his eyes met yours. For some reason, he didn't look surprised, as if he knew you would be watching them.

Your eyes slightly widened as he gave you a small smirk, his gaze almost turning seductive before he focused his attention back to the game.

You didn't even pay attention to the actual game, because your gaze kept moving back and forth between the two men. Although Carlos caught you looking, Charles was completely oblivious to the tension growing in the room between you and his teammate.

The only reason you didn't shift your gaze away from Carlos is because his eyes were also on you. He was anything but shy, not looking away causing your cheeks to heat up under his unfaltering attention.

The only thing that broke him out of the little bubble he created with you were Charles' giggles. He was holding the cue stick, failing to hide his mischievous grin.

Carlos looked at him in confusion before looking down at the table, and laughed. "Charles, mate, you cheated."

All of Charles' solid pool balls were pocketed while only the striped ones remained. "That's bullshit, I didn't cheat," Charles was offended but if it wasn't for a small smile he failed to hide, you would've thought he was telling the truth.

You smiled for a moment before turning around, hearing the men bicker in a foreign language you didn't understand. You mentally scolded yourself for easily becoming distracted by the two men in your bar—two very attractive men.

You had just started your mental checklist of things to get done before leaving when you heard Carlos' voice call your name—which he spotted earlier on the name tag on your shirt. "Can you watch Charles to make sure he doesn't cheat?" He looked at the individual in question with a harsh expression before returning his eyes to you.

You let out a laugh once you realized Carlos was serious, "you want me to watch him?" You looked at Charles who shrugged, "I didn't cheat, I don't know what he's talking about."

Carlos gave Charles a look, and it was all he needed to do for Charles to agree with him. "Fine, judge our pool skills."

Carlos moved around to reset the game, but Charles was intently looking at you, waiting for an answer. You nodded once before wiping your hands on the nearest towel, "sure."

You knew you wouldn't be able to focus on your task with them around, so you might as well just join them.

The Spaniard set the last ball in the triangle rack before looking up at you with the same smirk he gave you earlier, as if he knew you wouldn't turn them down.

You stood beside Carlos as you both watched Charles break, and since you were supposed to "keep an eye" on Charles, you decided against looking at Carlos. However you could still feel his gaze on you.

"If you keep looking at me, Charles would be able to cheat again," you told him while looking ahead so you didn't see his expression. But you did hear his chuckle, "I can't seem to take my eyes off you."

You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling, but it was nice to hear the compliment from him, even if you barely knew him.

Charles passed the cue to Carlos, and taking his place to stand next to you. Although you willed yourself to look away from Carlos when Charles was playing, you couldn't help but admire the latter, especially as he was standing so close to you.

Either he didn't acknowledge your stares or he did but chose not to comment on it, but it was his turn again. However once Carlos passed the cue stick to him, Charles held it out towards you.

"Be my lucky shot," he stated once you raised your brow in question and Carlos shook his head unable to let him by without commenting, "we all know you need some luck."

Instead of taking the stick from his hand, you grabbed some chalk and rubbed it on the tip while maintaining eye contact with Charles. He didn't say anything but his gaze wandered down your face, passing the seemingly innocent smile before watching your hand grab the cue to play.

You snuck a little smirk directed at Carlos before steadying your feet and slightly bending over the table to get in position. You couldn't tell if both their gazes landed on your ass, but you hoped it did.

You carefully focused on your aim, striking the cue ball and sinking in two solids in adjacent pockets. Turning around with a smile on your face, you saw Charles' smile just as big but Carlos didn't look too happy as he wasn't close to winning anymore.

"Keep playing, sweetheart," Charles commented, unaffected by the use of the nickname but you heard it loud and clear. You walked towards the other side of the table to get a better shot but the move also put you right in front of the two men.

While Charles was still rooting for you, he and Carlos focused on you a little more than on your aim. They weren't watching you play, they were watching you.

The thought made you nervous, but you couldn't help but look up before you made the shot. Carlos was intensely staring at you while Charles' tongue was barely peeking out between his lips, making you lose your focus completely.

You hit the cue ball but missed pocketing the solid, and if you were asked about it, you would blame them for it.

"Is your luck running low?" Carlos teased as you passed him the cue stick while rolling your eyes. "If my luck was running low, I wouldn't have two men walk into my bar right before closing."

Carlos nodded with a teasing smile on his face and moved to play his turn. You stood beside Charles, resting your palm on the edge of the table while looking at Carlos the same way he was at you.

"The way you're staring is making it hard to concentrate on the game," Carlos commented before tilting his head up to look at you.

"Do you really want to concentrate on the game?" You asked slightly teasing, making your intentions very obvious by your tone.

"What would you rather want me to concentrate on?" Carlos stood up straight, forgetting about playing the game as he rounded the table to stand in front of you.

"She wants all the attention on herself," Charles spoke, then added, "am I wrong?" He asked for good measure, but the smile on his face told you that he had idea of what you'd say.

"Well I think of it as you guys want my attention on both of you," you remarked, avoiding the ploy they tried to lure you into.

Carlos took a step back, resting against the pool table behind him, but he was still staring at you. He made brief eye contact with Charles before nodding towards you. With two fingers raised, he motioned for you to come closer to him.

You easily slotted yourself between Carlos' slightly spread legs, and one of his hands rested on your hip while the other pushed back a strand of hair.

Not even a moment later, you felt the heat of Charles' body right behind you. The two men had you right where they wanted you, sandwiched between them.

You felt Charles move your hair to the side, lightly pecking his lips against your shoulder. You quickly tangled your fingers in his hair, preventing him from moving away. He smiled against your shoulder, before looking at Carlos whose gaze was stuck on the way your facial expressions changed.

"What do you say, Carlos, let's thank her for letting us stay past closing?" He asked, trailing his fingers down your sides before settling them on your waist.

You could feel the heat of both their hands seeping through your shirt. Looking at Carlos expectantly, waiting for him to do or say something.

"Do you want that?" he asked, making your eyes twinkle with excitement and anticipation. You nodded, "I want you both to fuck me on this table."

Carlos' hand moved to your cheek before he stepped closer and placed his lips on yours. You quite literally melted into the kiss. Leaning your body against his while your free hand ran through his hair before settling on the nape of his neck.

Your other hand was still occupied in Charles' hair but you didn't move it away, knowing that you wanted both men. You felt his grip tighten on your waist, and he stepped even closer so you not only felt the heat of his body radiating towards yours, but he was fully pressed against you.

While Carlos began kissing down the length of your neck, Charles' hands wandered upwards towards your chest, stopping right when he grazed your nipples over your shirt. They quickly turned into stiff peaks with Charles' attention, poking through the fabric of your bralette underneath your form fitting shirt.

"Charles," you gasped once he pinched your nipples, smirking in satisfaction of how your body reacted under his touch. Carlos nipped at your neck that would surely turn into a mark soon.

You didn't know where to focus, and to think this was just the beginning of what they would do to you together, your mind couldn't comprehend it but you were very eager to know.

Carlos' hands moved to your ass, teasing the waistband of your jeans. He rounded back to the front, eager to free you from the restraints of denim. You helped him, quickly stepping out of your pants and then in the next moment, Charles lifted the hem of your shirt, wanting that piece of clothing off as well.

Standing there almost completely naked, Charles' hands wandered just about everywhere but Carlos took the smallest step back to undress himself.

As he did so, Charles' tilted your face towards him, claiming your lips with his. There weren't any slow, sensual moves, the kisses were full of need.

You turned around in his grasp, facing him and he let out a muffled moan, liking all the attention on himself. He was completely lost in your kisses so he jolted once your hands found the front of his jeans and palmed his dick.

A sudden slap to your ass pushed you further into Charles, making you gasp. Carlos teased your pussy over your panties, feeling the wetness seep through but he didn't stick around long enough as you'd like.

Your lips parted away from Charles, leaning your head back against Carlos' bare shoulder. He had stripped down to his boxers. "On the table, cariño," he whispered in your ear, making you whine at the nickname.

You sat on the table with your legs hanging off, and Charles was quick to slot himself between your legs. He trailed his fingers up your leg, gripping the flimsy waistband of your underwear. You lifted your hips up so he could slide it down your legs, then he laid his palm on your calves before pushing it back.

You leaned back, resting your palms on the felt material of the pool table as you watched Charles' pupils dilate once you laid yourself all out for him.

Charles pressed his thumb against your clit, making slow circles that had you arching off the table, lifting your hips to chase the pleasure.

You felt Carlos' hands on your shoulders, leaning you back further until you had laid flat on the width of the pool table. You pushed yourself up so your feet were firmly placed on the felt but your head was hanging over the edge.

The Spaniard ran his fingers up and down the length of your throat. He snuck a little pinch on your nipple after seeing how easily you reacted to their touch, before wrapping his fingers around your neck.

Despite the fact that everything around you was upside down, your hands found the waistband of his underwear, and your attention was drawn to his naked chest, especially given how close you were.

You pulled off the last piece of clothing on him, mouth opening once you saw his cock. The perfect width and there was no doubt he was well endowed.

"Open your mouth," Carlos instructed and you couldn't help but oblige. Licking your lips, your hand grasped the base before you pressed a wet kiss on the tip, tasting him on your tongue and instantly knowing that you needed more.

As your mouth was full of Carlos' dick, Charles spread your pussy with his fingers, watching as you desperately clench around nothing. You bucked your hips up when you felt Charles' lips on your pussy. A kiss to your clit but then as if he was hit with uncontrollable hunger, he added his hot tongue and fingers to the mix. Teasing, circling, Charles was on a mission to bring you so close to your release.

Then, as fast as he was able to bring you to the edge, he moved away with only a string of spit connecting you. A tear slipped out the corner of your eye and you attempted to whine. Charles held your thighs down to prevent you from bucking up into him as a poor attempt at continuing what he started.

"Patience, baby," he cooed, unable to look away from your glistening cunt. Then without warning he thrusted in you in one swift motion, making you moan loudly. Well, as loud as you could with your mouth stuffed.

You didn't see his cock but based on how well he was able to stretch your insides, you knew he was just as pretty underneath his jeans as he was above. He wasn't even fully in from that one thrust and he knew you wouldn't be able to take it in one go. He slowly pulled out and went further in until he was nestled against you completely.

More tears pooled in your eyes, and with the two pairs of hands roaming all over your body, the pleasure became too much to pinpoint where it was coming from.

"Fuck, she's so wet," Charles comments, directed towards his teammate which made you writhe in pleasure at how he chose to ignore you. "All for us," Carlos added, tightening his grip on your neck while his other hand held your face still so he could fuck it as he pleased.

Carlos' restriction made you clench around Charles, all three of you letting out moans and groans as the air in the bar became heavy with the smell of sex.

He hooked his fingers in the corners of your mouth, making you drool as you sucked his cock. Sweat built up on your body, your hair tangling up and you were sure you looked really messy but you couldn't care less about it right now.

Charles was still thrusting in and out of your pussy at a brutal pace, and added stimulation on your clit in small quick circles. You wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer.

Once again you were just on the brink of release and mentally begged Charles to let you come undone. He didn't stop. Your orgasm took you under, and for a brief moment you lost any sense of your surroundings, focusing just on the pleasure.

With your head hanging off the table, you were becoming lightheaded and the tears wouldn't stop flowing. Carlos seemed to have noticed this since he couldn't take his gaze off the way his cock was sliding in and out of your mouth.

He slid out, and lifted your head to rest on the table. Since your mouth wasn't occupied, your moans got louder as the final waves of your orgasm washed over you. Neither men tried to conceal them since they began to like the noises you made.

Charles felt his own restrain breaking as he felt you cum around him, and he quickly painted your insides with his cum. He didn't stop the torture on your clit until you tried to shuffle away from him, feeling too sensitive. When he slid out, you clenched on air, but it didn't go unnoticed by Charles. "Still needy?" He questioned with an accusatory ton but there was no malice behind it, just lust.

Carlos tapped your cheek once, "on your hands and knees." He wasn't done with you yet, he didn't orgasm yet and even though he wanted you to swallow every drop of his cum, he wanted to feel your cunt wrapped around him.

As you moved, you felt Charles' cum spill out of you and down your thighs. Your ass was now in the air, facing Carlos. He palmed your ass, spreading it to see the work Charles left behind.

He saw the cum continue to spill out of you but he gathered it on his finger and pushed it back in your cunt. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and the strength of your arms holding you up weakened.

"You want me to fuck Charles' cum back into you?" Carlos asked, his voice laced with lust making his accent even deeper.

You nodded, "yes please, want both of your cum to fill me up."

"Hear that? She's so fucking greedy for our cum," Charles commented, tilting your face upwards and noticing the dried tear marks on your face. He pouted in faux sympathy but it was quickly replaced with a small smirk as he looked at the bruises that began to form on your neck.

Without letting any more of Charles' cum spill out of you, Carlos entered your used and slightly overstimulated cunt. His hands gripped your hips tightly, and you were surely going to see his handprints on your body the next day.

You made eye contact with Charles, but as Carlos kept pumping in and out of you, your eyes threatened to roll back in pleasure. The only reason you didn't was because the monégasque's pretty gaze was on you.

He cupped your cheek and leaned down to press a messy kiss on your lips. You were constantly moved back and forth making it harder to kiss him properly. Charles pulled on your bottom lip, making you groan as Carlos' thrusts intensified.

"Fuck, you're so good for us" Carlos leaned over your frame, his hands roaming around the front of your body. Two of his fingers pinched then circled your clit, making you arch into him.

"Carlos, I-I'm gonna cum," your words threatened to get stuck in your throat, and you just needed him to continue exactly how he was for just a little longer.

"Gonna fill you up," Carlos whispered in your ear but it was loud enough for Charles to hear. The latter slipped his hand down to your throat, making your eyes widen when he pulled you closer and tightened his grip.

You opened your mouth in a silent moan, unable to let out any noise with the amount of pleasure overcoming you. You closed your eyes as you felt Carlos' cum fill you up, mixing with Charles’ already inside you.

Charles released his grip on your throat, and your arms were too weak to hold yourself up so your upper half met the felt on the table, your nipples brushing against it.

Carlos pulled out of you slowly, ensuring that your ass stays in the air. Breathing heavily, you closed your eyes and tried to get yourself together when you felt both their arms pick you up and sit you down on the edge of the table.

They didn't let go, letting your cheek rest against Charles' chest while Carlos brushed his fingers through your hair. Your thighs clenched instinctively as you felt the warm liquid dripping out of you and onto the table underneath.

Charles chuckled, "have fun closing with our cum running down your legs."

"Fuck you," you managed to let out but there wasn't any malice behind those words. "Next time, sweetheart."

You looked up at them both and leaned back on your arms, "does that mean you're going to come again?" Charles and Carlos looked at each other, then nodded simultaneously. "Of course we will." Carlos told you and then Charles added cheekily, "excellent service," as he nudged his head towards the bar top.

[whrsmym1nd]

It's your choice, guys…

[whrsmym1nd]

SOMEWHERE IN TEXAS...

🖇️ in which you learn what the cowboy hat rule is.

🖇️ came up with this myself :3 and also inspired a bit by that daniel picture hehe. isn't he so gorgeous?

🖇️ warnings: daniel's a bit of a dickhead, cocky as fuck and it's hot, 2.4k words.

🖇️ daniel ricciardo x mercedes!race engineer!reader

🖇️ this is the plot part of this smut with plot fic. smut coming in part two.

“Is it too late for me to change my mind?”

Lewis rolled his eyes. “C’mon, you promised you’d join me for the next afterparty, remember?”

Much to your dismay, you do remember your drunk promise to your best friend, Lewis, that you’d join him. Usually, when the whole grid and the rest of the race engineers would go out for drinks, you’d make up an excuse about being busy and unable to join them.

The last time you and Lewis hung out alone, you got a little wine drunk and promised him you’d be there to celebrate the next race. So, due to your own stupidity and inability to say no, you’re standing outside one of the clubs located somewhere in Texas.

When Lewis softly leads you inside, it’s everything you expected it to be. The interior of the club is full of very american attributes. There’s an american flag on the first wall you see when you enter the main area of the club. It’s more like a bar, but you won’t complain considering you never wanted to go anywhere in the first place. At least a bar will be less chaotic.

Or that’s what you think until you see him.

Daniel Ricciardo sits happily in a corner booth, chatting away with some blonde girl in a dress that’s way too short. You look down at your own outfit and worry whether or not you’ve dressed appropriately. You’re wearing a cream coloured dress that’s barely above your knees, and black boots, meanwhile the girl is wearing a silk dress that hugs her curves in a way you could only dream about.

“Stop it, you look gorgeous,” Lewis leans in and smiles at you when you softly slap his arm while thanking him. “I’m gonna go sit in that booth over there with George and some other guys, come find me if you need me.”

Before you can protest and ask if you can come with, Lewis is gone out of your sight. You sigh and make your way to the very nice bartender who’s been eye-ing you since you came in. When you sit down on one of the stools, he walks over and stands right in front of you.

“What can I get ya?” He asks, the most subtle southern accent rolling off his tongue. It makes him a little more attractive, save for the eyebrow piercing and tattooed arms. Your eyes travel down to the nametag on the left side of his torso, the name Hunter engraved into the metal pin. You snort at the irony but quickly recover.

“A margarita, please,” you smile softly at him. He nods his head and begins making it for you. You watch as his hands move, so rhythmically, so professionally. You wonder what it’s like to do this job everyday. Serving drunk people every night, listening to their nonsense, dealing with their antics.

Hunter places the drink in front of you and you thank him with a small smile.

With a small scan of the whole bar, you notice a free booth and make your way there. You see many of the drivers all split and huddled up into the many booths. Now that you really look around, you realise that the majority of the bar are the staff and the drivers of the grid, with the occasional blondie cowgirl trying to get their way down someone’s pants.

Your eyes subconsciously travel over to where you last saw Daniel. He’s got the blondie in his lap now, the wide toothed grin of his blinding you from where you sit. His hands are up her skirt, kneading her thighs and you feel something in your chest that closely resembles anger. Or maybe envy.

The girl takes off his cowboy hat (because, of course he had to wear one) and tries to put it on herself, but Daniel stops her and puts it back on his head, all while his eyes are looking at you. You don’t notice his gaze at first, your eyes too focused on the angered girl who quickly rises from Daniel’s lap with enough red in her face to rival a tomato. But when your eyes finally travel back to Daniel, the shit-eating grin on his face makes you want to hurl.

Ricciardo tips his cowboy hat as a greeting and you roll your eyes, turning back towards your drink. You take slow and steady sips of the margarita, trying your best to forget the honey coloured set of eyes that are burning into you right now.

“Oh, hey.” You turn your head to see that the rookie of McLaren has joined you at your booth. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Likewise.” In all honesty, Oscar doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy events like this, but you notice his slightly dilated pupils and his empty glass. “Whiskey?”

He looks down at his hand and the glass he’s holding, “not mine.”

You nod, sceptically, but decide to let it go. Oscar looks around, his curious eyes scanning every person until he comes to Daniel. “Daniel’s staring at you,” Oscar mumbles, leaning close to your ear.

“I know,” you roll your eyes, trying your best to hide the smirk that’s playing on your lips.

This whole thing with Daniel started on some random day when he decided to start playfully flirting with you. At first, it was harmless. More like affectionate jokes than flirting. But with time, after about three months, Daniel’s flirts became more frequent. The petnames “princess” and “baby” replaced your name in every conversation with him. It got annoying quickly, so you simply ignored him. But, Daniel Ricciardo is a persistent man. His antics continued and with each and every flirt of his, you got more and more annoyed. So annoyed that the anger in your chest slowly bloomed into butterflies whenever your name would fall from his lips.

You down the rest of your margarita to drown that thought.

Making your way back to the bar, you stumble upon George. He waves you over. “Lewis was wondering where you were.”

“In a booth over there,” you point behind yourself and take a seat on the barstool next to his. “I don't think this place is big enough to get lost in.”

George laughs. “True, but he seems a bit worried.”

“How so?”

All he did was nod his head towards Daniel, clearly suggesting that Lewis was worried about the fact that Daniel’s still staring at you. From where you sat at the bar, Daniel got a better view of you— of the way your dress hugged your body, the way your legs looked crossed like that, and the way your face lit up at a joke George told.

George.

Daniel resented George at that moment. He’s the one that’s supposed to be making you laugh, but he hasn't been able to do that since he started trying his shot with you.

You wrote it off as flirting, but to Daniel it was him trying to ease you into the final question. His plan failed, though. Now, you hate him and he hates himself for getting to this point.

Ever since he saw you in the Mercedes garage as he was walking past, he’s been thinking about you non-stop.

Sure, if he had just asked you out for a drink or maybe been less annoying, you would have agreed. He’s not even sure why he didn't try to ask you out back then, before this whole thing was blown out of proportion. If he asks you out now, you see it as him teasing you again, being cocky and annoying as usual.

That’s why Daniel’s so focused on you right now.

His brows knit together even more when he sees you laughing with George. What’s so funny about him?

“Dude, just go talk to her.” Max rolls his eyes at Daniel. The aussie turns to him with a confused look. “You’ve been eyeing her like she belongs to you for the past twenty minutes.”

“So? Am I not allowed to look?” Daniel rolls his eyes, noticing how much his eyes miss looking at you. “Acting as if this isn't a public place.”

“What happened to blondie number two?” Carlos asks, taking a chug of his beer.

Max snorts. “What happened to blondie number one, is what I wanna know.”

“Both of them wanted his cowboy hat,” Lando says with a small grin. “This fucker didn't let them have it.”

Max and Carlos share a look of knowingness and smirk to themselves. Daniel goes back to looking at you, his eyes softening the second he catches a glimpse of your body.

All the while you’re still pretending to laugh at George’s awful jokes. He’s a little bit too drunk and you wonder where Oscar went, because he was way better company than Lewis’ teammate is.

After a short while, you excuse yourself to go back to your booth. George nods and gets up to walk back to his own booth, and you’re glad he wasn't too upset about you ditching him.

You’ve been avoiding looking at Daniel since the last time you acknowledged him. Maybe you’re scared he’s still looking or maybe it's the fact that you’re sure you’ll walk over there and see why he’s got a staring problem with you.

Your third margarita of the night sits on the table next to your phone, the glass half empty already.

Despite having sworn to yourself that you wouldn't look at Daniel under any circumstances, your eyes still travel across the room to his booth. You first look at the other guys, two of which you recognise for endorsing his flirtiness with you. The third guy, with the curly hair and awkward beard, seems unfamiliar and quite bored.

And when your eyes reach Daniel, he’s already looking at you.

His honey coloured eyes are piercing right through you, the look in them passionate enough to make you think you’re sat there naked. It infuriates you, more than anything.

Your phone dings and at the same second, Daniel looks away. The message is from Lewis, letting you know that everyone’s going outside for pictures and that you should come too.

You down the last bit of your margarita and follow suit of everyone who gets up to leave. Daniel’s a few people away from you, so you speed up and try your best not to run into him.

Unluckily for you, your place in the picture is right in front of Daniel. You can practically feel his warmth radiating from him and onto your exposed skin. Next thing you know, there’s a flash of the camera and everyone’s going back inside.

“Hey, again.” Oscar pops up beside you, softly smiling. You look up at him and reciprocate the grin.

“Hi, again.”

“Lando asked me to invite you to sit in our booth,” he says. “Told him you wouldn't want to, but still wanted to ask.”

You think about it for a moment before nodding your head. “I’ll come.”

Oscar looks surprised but still leads you back inside the bar and to the booth where he, Lando and Charles were previously sat.

It takes a few minutes for the others to get back and you’re in deep conversation with Oscar when you feel someone take a seat next to you, an arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders. At first you think it’s Lewis and don't think much of it, but when you feel a hat being placed on your head and hear the laughter of the other men at the table, you freeze.

“Hey, princess.”

Daniel’s voice rings in your ears when he speaks the familiar petname. It sends shocks of anger through your chest that end up warming you up enough for the heat to rise to your cheeks.

You look at Oscar and he looks apologetic. Clearly he didn't know Daniel would be amongst the men that’d come back to this booth.

Daniel scoots closer to you, your thighs touching under the table. His exposed thigh is warm against your own, but he doesn't seem to care or notice, instead engaging in conversation with Max.

You sit there, slumped. Daniel’s arm is still around you. There’s some country song playing in the distant background but all you can focus on is how the vibration of Daniel’s voice is travelling through his body and rumbling through your chest. He notices your soft gaze to the tattoo on his thigh.

He pulls the fabric of his shorts up, showing the whole tattoo. “A beauty, isn't she?”

You look up to meet his gaze and smile softly. “Yeah. Did it hurt?”

“Nah,” he shrugs. “I like the pain.”

The smirk on his face reminds you that there can't be a second of a normal conversation with him, so you go back to slumping in your seat and look at the pattern of the table.

The guys strike up a conversation again, you don't bother listening.

Daniel’s not that bad when he’s being normal. Except he’s never normal with you, so you can't find anything to like about him. Other than those tattoos, and the delicate touch of his hand on your arm when it softly brushes against your skin, and the intoxicating smell of his cologne. And his honey eyes, that seem to be incapable of looking at anyone else but you.

Your train of thought gets cut off when you feel a hat being placed on your head. “Hold that for me, baby.”

You look up to see Daniel standing up and a small smirk plants itself on his face. You furrow your brows and adjust the cowboy hat to sit more comfortably on your head. Daniel and Max disappear somewhere in the bar and you go back to zoning out.

“Take it off,” Oscar says, but gets silenced by Carlos.

“No, keep it on,” his Spanish accent weighing on his words. “Suits you.”

Carlos shares a look with Lando without saying much more, instead trying not to laugh. Oscar seems worried but, honestly, you’re too drunk to care and there’s about an hour left until you can leave, according to Lewis.

Max comes back first, sitting back down in his spot. His eyes widen when he notices the cowboy hat on your head. “That’s brave.”

“What’s brave?” You ask, clearly confused.

Carlos elbows Max in the side and he groans in pain before realising he shouldn't say anything more. Lando looks at you with the smallest smirk. “Do you know the cowboy hat rule, Y/N?”

You furrow your brows, shaking your head. “What’s the cowboy hat rule?”

Daniel appears right at this moment, sitting down next to you. As he takes his hat off of your head and places it back on his own, he melodically declares:

“Wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy.”

© 2023 slutforln4. all rights reserved.

[whrsmym1nd]

gorgeous; lewis hamilton

y/n's boyfriend is arguably one of the worst men on the planet, so, she decides to hook up with a pretty boy she meets in a club.

includes; smut, oral (m, f), fingering, degradation, teasing, spanking, hair pulling, face fucking, sir!kink, dom!lewis, sub!reader, infidelity, unprotected sex, squirting. this hasn't been proofread.

this is part of my taylor swift masterlist which you can find here. thank you to @sainzcaleruega and @landopeaches for always hyping up my writing even when i think it sucks <33

he was arguably one of the most attractive people she'd ever seen. that was a fact. his skin glowed under the harsh lighting, somehow making him look ethereal in a sea of sweaty, aggressively lit men and women, and whenever he looked over in her direction her skin buzzed with a sense of anticipation she didn't find anywhere else. a sense of excitement she hadn't felt for what felt like a lifetime.

as stubborn as he was in these situations, he had to admit - she too, was one of the prettiest women he'd ever laid eyes upon. the way she looked so effortlessly, shamelessly gorgeous in a room full of women who'd tried a little too hard to impress drew him to her like a moth to a flame. she didn't have to try, not for him, anyway.

"can i buy you a drink?"

the line was cheesy, and half-expected when she waltzed up to the bar. he watched her every move, as she weaved her way in and out of the crowd with ease, as if it was a habit. her lips curled up into a half smile and she pondered on the origin of his accent.

"i've got a boyfriend," her eyes raked across the selection of flavoured liquor standing on the shelf, and she waited for his reaction to come. he waivered, only slightly. "but if you want to take me home with you i suggest you try a lot harder than buying me a drink."

the man smirked and stood in closer, only by a few millimeters. his hand draped over the small of her back, and in that moment she noticed his scent. he smelled divine, the scent of richness and old money that she'd scoured so hard to find; he smelt like a man who was familiar with the ins and outs of what he was doing and that was almost enough for her to cave.

"what are you drinking?" he questioned. his voice was soft yet firm, and even under the boom of heavy music, she could hear him crystal clear.

"surely you should be able to tell," she glanced over at him for the first time since he struck up a conversation, but soon faced the liquors again, "a man with your intelligence, expertise. you know what a woman wants, so figure it out."

he admired her nonchalant nature, and so he went ahead and ordered for her, "a whiskey on ice and a tequila sunrise," his eyes flickered over to her as he spoke and immediately flickered back to the barman.

"anything else?"

"two orgasms," the barman almost walked away until she spoke, he nodded, and she glanced over at the pretty man beside her, "i'd ask for a couple more, but that's just being selfish."

he leaned in closer again, his fingers brushing her hipbones and marking his territory to those around him. "it's rude to have no manners," his finger's ran up the side of her dress, feeling out the zip just underneath the armpit so he could toggle on it later, "but then again, you'll be using them later."

"you seem oddly confident," she rose to his game fiercely and feistily, her eyes still avoiding him, "it's almost a pity."

her cockiness was arousing to him. he loved it when women fell at his feet, but this game was so much more entertaining for him to play. he couldn't help but hide a smirk. "we'll see who's going to be pitied when you're desperate enough to beg."

the drinks were brought to the pair of them quickly, and he watched as she knocked back both orgasms without a singular hitch in her face - oh, if only she knew how the orgasms he provided would leave her reeling.

"aren't you going to ask me about my boyfriend, about why i'm here in a crowded club all alone?"

it was clear to him she'd played this game multiple times before, but now she'd just confirmed it. "no," he simply smiled, and when she startled, his face grew wider, "judging by the fact you're out, talking to me, allowing me to buy you drinks, means you don't want to talk about him," his finger circled the rim of his whiskey glass, "but it also tells me you've come here to do this before, time and time again, desperate for somebody to show you a good time. am i right?"

her mouth suddenly went dry.

she sucked the cocktail through the small straw, and he waited patiently for her response.

"you could say that's correct," it pissed her off to admit he was right; she didn't like doing that, "do you think you're up to the task?" her eyes looked right into his, and for the first time that night, she allowed herself to get lost in them, "because i don't think you've got what it takes."

their lips were so close in that moment, she could feel his breath fanning at her skin and it ignited a fire inside of her stomach. the tension could be sliced with a knife, and when he placed his finger on her lips to halt her movements, it drove her crazy.

"you couldn't be more wrong, sweetheart."

"prove it to me, then."

her lips puckered slightly so she could kiss the pad of his finger, but in his haste he allowed himself to divulge in the taste of her tongue. sparks flew inside of her stomach at the prospect of what was inevitably going to happen, and when his tongue slid along her bottom lip, she fought it. Y/N wasn't one for giving in that easily.

"i don't even know your name," the man muttered against her lips, pulling away for a short breath of air in the midst of all his hormones, "and i'd, at the very least, like to tell you mine so you know what name to type into your phone next time you go looking for a man to make you feel good."

"you're so cocky," she hummed, pulling away from him snappishly to fumble on the counter for her drink. she admired the lipstick stain smeared across his chin. "it's almost humbling."

"you're so eager," he retorted, allowing himself a moment of composure. her body language was buzzing, and her eagerness to allow him to have his way with her was radiating off of her skin and bouncing among the pair of them like energy. "you might as well just bend over and let me fuck you in here."

he watched as the glimmer in her eyes shone, and cottoned onto the notion that she loved the thought of that. she knew that he could sense it, too, and she cursed herself for allowing her eyes to be so distinctively emotional.

"your eyes say everything you don't, darling," he paused and leaned closer, and when she went in for another kiss, he laughed. "see, i'm already starting to pity you."

he watched as she knocked back her drink, and as much as he wanted to tease her some more and hang back in the club for an hour or so, this was his forte.

"i hope your boyfriends not expecting you back anytime soon," he grabbed at her hand as he pulled her through the crowd, the manner brash and needy, nothing like the way she waltzed through it last time. "my name's lewis, by the way. you're gonna need to remember that."

/

his hotel room wasn't that far of a journey, and Y/N thanked her lucky stars when her initial thoughts were right - he was rich, and she was going to make sure to be calling him again.

"you still haven't told me your name," he said, handing her a small glass filled with tequila soda.

she took a sip, "is that a bad thing?"

"i'd at least like to know your name before i fuck you, yeah," he took a sip of his and perched on the edge of the armchair opposite her. her legs looked deliciously long and slender from this angle, and the light bounced off of them and caused a sleek shine. "is that a bad thing?"

"i suppose not," she hummed, and leaned forward to place her drink on the table. her cleavage squeezed between her arms as she moved and lewis struggled to keep himself composed. "Y/N."

Y/N.

he felt at peace knowing he had a name to put to the face, and it was just as beautiful as he imagined. she leaned back in her chair and her eyes gazed over him, and he was in awe of how she did everything so effortlessly. he leaned over the coffee table and hovered over her, his hands resting on the arm of her chair.

now that they could see one another clearer, and the atmosphere was less intrusive, there was a self consciousness surrounding them, as if they didn't want to get it wrong or overstep their mark; even though they both knew what they were here to do.

when lewis leaned down to kiss her, she melted into him almost immediately, and any traces of the feisty, fiery lady she once was at the bar had subsided. she was his, ultimately and indefinitely his, for this night.

lewis' hands trailed down her arms and along the stitching of the dress in an attempt to find the zipper from earlier. "may i...?" he asked, although when she'd started to nod, he was already pulling it down.

the dress completely unzipped and when lewis sunk to his knees and helped her to shimmy out of it, she didn't stop him. his lips caressed her thighs, kissing at the hot, slightly sweaty skin just to tease her as his thumbs and forefingers massaged at her calves.

her impatience had begun to seep through and it was clear to him she was beginning to become desperate when he noticed the material of her lace underwear changing colour due to the damp patch. he couldn't help but smirk.

his lips trailed across her pubic bone, that was partially hidden by the flimsy excuse for underwear, and as he kissed along the hot skin, she jolted and shimmied in anticipation.

"waiting for something?"

Y/N bucked her hips, but lewis' hands flew to her thighs and stopped her before she could gain any friction from the contact. "i said," he repeated, "are you waiting for something?"

she grumbled, "if you're not gonna fucking do it, then i'll find someone else who will."

lewis' eyes darkened, and she soon realised she was probably going to regret saying those words. he yanked at the material of her underwear and pulled it off in one swift motion, tossing it over his shoulder. "legs up," he motioned for her to swing her legs onto the arms of the chair, and she obliged, swinging them up onto the arms despite the ache it brought to her thighs. "good girl, you do know how to listen."

he savored the moment, allowing his fingers to slide within her folds and touch her delicately, swirling the pad of his middle finger around her clit and pressing softly into her opening. she was mewling, soft little whimpers and hardly-there noise that screamed out so much.

lewis' tongue swirled around her clit and immediately her hands flew to his dreadlocks. his hands splayed across her thighs as he worked his tongue around her, his facial hair only adding to her sensations.

"you taste so fucking good," he pulled away for a minute, and she looked up to watch him conjuring up spit. "i could stay here all fucking night."

she moaned, tipping her head back and getting lost in the feeling of him. she'd never experienced head like this before, and she couldn't quite contain herself. his hands moved from her thighs down to her bum, where one massaged the flesh and the other trailed up to where she needed attention the most.

"are you sure you can handle this? hm?" he cooed, pulling his lips away from her clit and causing her to cry out, "i don't know if you're ready."

"i am," she pouted, "please, lewis."

he smirked, and with that he pressed two fingers inside of her, and immediately she began to clench. "see, i told you i'd have you begging."

his fingers inside of her felt surreal, the way they hit every ridge and curve so well and slid through her wetness. she was dripping down his hand, she knew it, and she showed no shame. his fingertips curled and when they tickled her g-spot she flinched, her legs shooting outwards with a mind of their own.

"god, fucking hell if you keep on doing that i'm gonna cum."

lewis kissed at the inside of her thigh as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, "what did i tell you earlier about your manners, darling? they really are atrocious."

"i-i'm sorry," she mumbled, "please can i...?"

"please can you what, Y/N?"

she frowned for a second but she was whipped into shape quickly when he slapped her thigh. "please can i cum?"

"see," lewis kissed her clit and made her jolt, "that really wasn't so hard, was it baby?"

she shook her head, and when lewis' movements sped up, she saw it as her sign to cum. her legs trembled and her back arched off of the armchair, and she came hard and fast all over his fingers. he looked up at her with hooded eyes as she came down from her orgasm, her arms were over her head tugging at the armchair cushion and her back was still arched. she looked fucked out already, and her heavy breathing made him hard as a rock.

he knew he needed her now, no more waiting. he had to be inside of her, he wanted to make everyone in the rooms surrounding him know he could pleasure a woman right.

she felt a buzz in her stomach at the manhandling. lewis had picked her up from her state on the armchair and pushed her onto all fours on the adjoining sofa.

"do you still believe that i don't have what it takes, sweetheart?"

she turned her face round to look at him, and when he pulled his shirt off to reveal a body full of tattoos, she almost died on the spot. he knew she was checking him out, and he couldn't help but flex a little as he weaved his belt out of his trousers, and when she shook her head with a smirk on her face, she knew she was in trouble.

"well i think you're a fucking liar." he grabbed at her neck and squeezed the flesh softly until she made an audible choking sound, and then he released her. she continued to admire him through hazy eyes, and when he stood completely naked behind her she almost felt her knees give way.

he lined himself up with her and pushed in all the way, leaving her almost screaming at the fullness. he left her no time to properly adjust to his size before he pulled out and slid back inside her again with ease.

"oh, fuck, lewis," she cried out, her head throwing back. he grabbed ahold of her hips and squeezed at the flesh of her bum, slapping and kneading it between his hands. "you're so fucking big."

he left a slap to her bum once more. he enjoyed the ego boost.

"so fucking tight," he grunted as he continued to thrust, each time getting deeper and deeper, "your boyfriend really doesn't fuck you right, does he baby? hm?"

"no," she whined, a yelp of pain drawn from her lips when he wrapped his hand around her hair and used it as leverage, too. "only you, lewis."

he slapped her bum again. "that's the right fucking answer, only i can fuck you this good," his hips were slamming against her bum now, and lewis watched the constant loop of recoils that took place in front of him. "isn't that right, baby? hm? you're never gonna go to anybody else, that pussy's all mine, isn't it?"

"n-no, sir," she choked out, and lewis audibly growled, "nobody else. yours."

he laughed at her garbled nonsense. "good girl, you sound so pretty now that there's not a thought left in that pretty little head."

Y/N knew she wasn't going to last much longer, and lewis could tell because of the wet sounds her pussy was making as he fucked her, and the way she clenched him like a vice every time he pulled back out.

"gonna cum for me, Y/N?" he left a slap to her bum and pulled her right up against his chest by her hair, until he managed to wrap an arm around her torso and lock her in with his strength. her arms wrapped around his neck and she tugged at his dreads. "come on, baby. i know you can."

his free hand reached around and strummed at her clit, leaving her no wiggling room. the overstimulation became too much, and as lewis' lips bit down on her earlobe, she squirted all around him, her pussy clenching and convulsing uncontrollably as she screamed and rode out her high.

it took everything in lewis not to cum inside of her then and there, but he knew he needed restraint. he needed to be careful.

he pulled out of her and she fell limp, but lewis manhandled her once again, "don't think you're finished yet, baby," he pushed the strands of sweaty hair from her face over to the side of her neck, "i wanna see my dick in your pretty mouth first."

she hummed, and took as much of him in her mouth as she could, and lewis couldn't help but thrust his hips. the contractions of her throat gagging around him made his groan, and he had to suck in deep breaths every time he pushed back into her mouth.

spit trickled down Y/N's chin and pooled at her knees on the floor as she sucked at him sloppily. the movements of her tongue combined with his thrusts down her throat meant he wasn't going to last long.

"hold still," lewis said, bunching her hair up into a ponytail with his hand and fucking her face, the noises falling from her mouth at the sensation enough to make him groan. "fu-uck, that's it. good girl."

one hand fell to her cheek and she looked up at him as his dick slipped in and out of her mouth, and he couldn't hold it in any longer. he pressed the base of his dick flush against her tongue, and admired her pretty face as beads of cum landed on her tongue, nose and cheeks.

she gathered it all up on her tongue and he watched as she let it drool from the tip and trickle down onto her chest, merging with her spit and sweat. he'd never been more ready for another round in his life.

Y/N sat back on her heels and when lewis held out a hand for her to get up, her legs wobbled and she had to wait several moments before they regained usage.

"thank you," she smiled, wiping her chin, "i've not had sex that good in a long time."

"ditto," lewis smiled. the pair of them sat back on the sofa in silence, enjoying the company of the other person. "if you want to stay, you can."

"thank you," she smiled again, a sincere, almost apologetic smile. "i'd love that, but i think i need to shower before i make my mind up."

he nodded, and rose to his feet with an outstretched arm, "come with me, i'll help you clean yourself up."

[whrsmym1nd]

It Happened One Summer Night

Summary : A broken car. A sleepy little village. It was a scary feeling to see all the excuses you made to hate each other slowly crumble away. Wild curls. Inked skin. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let go.

Stranded together off the beaten path, Adriana and Daniel realised it was too easy to give in to the feelings growing between them.

Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x OC!Fem

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 4

They woke up, limbs tangled on the cotton sheets. Adriana pretended she was still sleeping and Daniel let her pretend as he slipped out of bed, both of them grateful for the extra moment before they had to actually face what had happened yesterday.

Adriana had been so wrecked after her orgasm that Daniel had had to literally tow her out of the water. He had carefully pulled her straps back in place while she’d held on to his shoulders in a daze. They’d stumbled home without saying anything, and drowsy from the sun and wine she’d had at dinner, Adriana had fallen asleep before they could talk. 

Yesterday, she’d felt embarrassed that she had so easily given in after … after all she had accused him of. She’d fallen so easily, but she would be lying to herself if she denied that everything that had happened between them had been almost inevitable. They’d been building towards this since Adriana had walked out of the airport and seen Daniel leaning against the car, waiting for her. 

As soon as she had felt Daniel’s breath ghost over her skin, seen the molten honey of his eyes, she’d been all in. 

Her hand drifted down to her breasts, softly cupping over her flesh still sensitive from the way he had coaxed pleasure from her body. He had left a bruise there, just above her nipple, the purple blooming over the swell of her right breast as she had stood in the shower yesterday — an ephemeral evidence of the white-hot desire they’d shared. 

She couldn’t possibly regret it when it was the hottest encounter of her life — not that it was much of an encounter given how she was the only one who had come. She’d never been the type to engage in casual sexual relationships, but maybe now was the time for her to be more free, to let things flow, to finally be impulsive. 

If this thing with Daniel led her to a few more orgasms while on holiday, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

~

Daniel opened one of the travel-sized bottles Adriana had left lined up in the shower and sniffed — it smelled citrusy and sharp, it smelled like her. 

Would it be wrong if he lathered it over his hand and reached down to touch himself? He’d been hard since yesterday, since he’d touched Adriana and seen how beautiful she looked when she let go. And then, this morning he’d woken up surrounded by her scent, her hair sprawled out over the pillows, her softness against his hardness. 

He closed the bottle in frustration, picking up the generic bar of soap to lather himself in quick economical moves. He cursed at the tepid pressure of the water in the old plumbing because he desperately needed a harsh cold jet spray to get his dick to behave. 

When he stepped out of the bathroom, Adriana was out of bed, ruffling through her suitcase. 

“Hey,” she flashed him a soft smile as she looked up. 

Daniel cleared his throat, “— hey.” He had been expecting words of recrimination, had expected her to rightfully call him out for taking advantage of her yesterday. So he was a bit taken aback by her calmness. 

They stayed suspended for a moment in awkward silence as they both tried to think whether or not to broach the one thing on their mind. 

“About yesterday, I’m sor—“

“Daniel —“ Adriana cut him off as she got up and walked towards him. “You don’t have to apologise, we’re both consenting adults. I was a hundred percent willing participant, so …”

Daniel was oddly quiet as she trailed off. 

“Not that I am entertaining any notion of a relationship with you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she added quickly. Wouldn’t it just be embarrassing if Daniel thought she expected a commitment from him now? 

“Don’t worry I’m not going to demand that you marry me to protect my virtue or anything like that.”  She tried to joke in the hope she sounded blasé, like she had casual sexual encounters all the time. 

“Damn —“ Daniel flashed her a lopsided grin as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I was about to demand that you marry me for taking advantage of me. I guess, I’ll have to find a way to go on living in society with my ruined virtue.”

His little joke had the effect he wanted as she smiled, looking adorably young. 

“I mean I sort of did take advantage of you because you know, you didn’t — ” she stammered. 

“I didn’t what?” His smile was wolfish as he watched her blush. 

“You didn’t get to —“ her eyes briefly flitted down to his crotch, “— come.” 

The breathy way she said that last word had Daniel instantly hard in his shorts. He wished she would stop sneaking glances at his little friend because he didn’t think he would be able to stop it from making an appearance much longer. 

“Do you want me to —“ her tongue snaked out to wet her lips as she gestured wordlessly towards his crotch. 

“What kind of an asshole do you think I am?” Daniel stepped closer to her, eyes all dark and serious. “I’m not going to ask you for anything in return just because I made you come.

“I enjoyed making you come.” His voice was lighter now, faint laugh lines playing around his eyes. “And I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

~

ADRIANA WAS MAD AT Daniel. He couldn’t just say something like that and walk out of the room. There was a bed right there that they could have put to good use. 

Was that how it was to be around Daniel Ricciardo, she mused as she lazily turned the page of her novel, you thought about nothing but sex? 

She’d sat through breakfast, feverish with desire as Daniel had chatted easily with the Gonzales. Miguel had suggested they take his small boat out to sea and Daniel had laughingly declined, joking that with their luck, they’d somehow end up capsized. So, they’d naturally found themselves back at their little cove from yesterday.  

It was a bit alarming how quickly Adriana had come to think of it as their cove.  

A shadow fell over her. She looked up, squinting at Daniel hovering over her. He deliberately shook the water from his curls, letting the droplets fall on her.

“What are you, five?” She said as she shielded her eyes from the sun. 

He smiled innocently at her, his dimples making an appearance. It was quite the contrasting combination — the boyishness of his dimples and the not-so-innocent kind of thoughts his stubble inspired. He flung himself down on her towel, jostling her shoulders as Adriana shifted to make space for him. 

“You need to top up your sunscreen,” Adriana said as she ruffled in her beach bag for the sunscreen.  The bridge of his nose had turned slightly red, making his freckles even more prominent. 

“Lather me up,” Daniel said as he scrunched up his nose. So, Adriana reached out, smoothing the coconut-scented lotion over the bump of his nose, tracing the slanted curve of his brows, his stubble tickling her hand. 

“Your turn now,” he said as he took the bottle from her and shook some lotion out onto his palm. He carefully rubbed the lotion into her skin, along the bridge of her nose, his thumb grazing her Cupid’s bow. 

Adriana’s breath hitched, Daniel’s touch igniting a delicious burn wherever he touched her. She made to move away, but Daniel gently grasped her chin. 

He tsk-tsked as he said, “I think I missed a spot.”  His fingers drifted down her throat, circling tormentingly over her fluttering pulse, trailing along her clavicle and dipping shamelessly into her cleavage. 

“There, you’re all good now.” Daniel said in the most infuriating drawl as he watched the flush spread over her skin. She’d swapped the one-piece for a bikini today and those scraps of barely-there material were taunting him. 

He could press her down on the sand right here and have his sweet way with her, with the waves lapping at their feet and the sun beating down on them, but one thing racing had taught him — sometimes the reward was a bit sweeter if you were patient. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but —“ Daniel shifted on his side as he propped himself up on one elbow to look at her, the chain around his neck catching the sun. “Is your book even any good?” He asked as he watched her fiddle with the pages. “Looks like you’re still stuck at the same place as yesterday.”

She surprised him with a bashful laugh. 

“I guess not,” she said as she gave up the pretense of reading. “I think I just wanted a book with a pretty cover.” She turned the book towards him, showing him the sparkly trail of stars painted on a deep blue. 

“I thought the first rule about books is not to judge one by its cover,” he joked. 

“Well, this one fooled me,” she said as she placed the book aside and leaned back to mirror his pose. 

“Not even a nice cover can get me to read a book.”

“Not a fan of reading, are you?” She teased. 

“Nopes,” he popped the P at the end as he smiled. “Can never sit still long enough to read one —

“And I know what you’re going to say. Sitting in an F1 car for two hours to go round a circuit is very different.”

“I’m trying to imagine teenage Daniel sitting through English class.” She made a mental note to google pictures of younger Danny later — there must be quite a few out there, right?

“Oh I was a terror!” He said with a laugh. “I think my teacher had PTSD from having me in her class. 

“I was so disruptive,” he said, almost wistfully. “In fact, one time they had to call my mum in to ask if I had, you know, any learning difficulties and then, this, in turn, made my mum even more anxious about me. 

“She used to threaten revoking my karting privileges if I didn’t study.”

“Did you then — study?”

“Ah, hell nah!” Dimples flashed. “I used to copy stuff off this girl that sat in front of me. She was —“ He reached out, twinning a strand of her hair around his finger, looking at the burnished copper that the sun brought out in it. “— just like you. Nerdy, smart, the hottest little miss know-it-all.”

“Bold of you to assume I was a know-it-all,” she said almost indignantly, playfully knocking him on his shoulder.

Daniel lifted his eyebrows at her, as if to say really? 

“Okay, fine,” she rolled her eyes at him as she relented. “I went to an all-girls school, we were all know-it-alls.”

Daniel shifted closer to her, the look in his eyes lambent with the simmering desire between them. “But did you wear glasses and those tiny pleated plaid skirts?” 

“I’ll have you know, my skirt was by no means tiny. It was exactly the length that the school rule book stated,” she said primly. 

Daniel smiled at the image of prim and proper Adriana and wondered what it would have taken to ruffle her. He looked at her now, all loose and almost carefree, so different from the woman who had gotten into the car with him in Barcelona. 

He wanted to be carefree with her, he realised. Just for the span of a few days, he didn’t want to think about racing, didn’t want to worry about the championship fight, didn’t want to think about anything but this right here. He just wanted to laugh, drink good wine and make memories that he would think about when he would be alone in some hotel room in some random corner of the world. 

“Wanna go climb that cliff?” His voice was scratchy when he spoke again.

“Can’t sit still for too long, can you?” Adriana laughed as he sheepishly shrugged.  

She looked at the cliff over her shoulder.  “It’s quite steep,” she said apprehensively. 

“Come on,” Daniel said as he got up and stretched his hand out to her. “It’ll be fun. Think how good it’ll feel when you make it to the top.”

Halfway up the bluff, Adriana made the mistake of looking down and seeing the jagged edges — it would be an ugly tumble from where she was. 

“Don’t look down,” Daniel said from right above her. “Keep your eyes on me.”

“Yeah, well —“ Adriana was going to kill him when they got to the top. “I can’t see much of anything with your whole ass in my face,” she said sarcastically. 

“And isn’t it a nice view?” He joked with a little wiggle of his hips. 

He crouched down towards her, his brown eyes serious for a moment. “Feel the rocks under your hand, Adri —“ There was something about the familiarity of him shortening her name. “They’re warm and sturdy, they’re not going to crumble under your hands. We take one step at a time, yeah?” 

He waited for her little nod before continuing on, patiently guiding her where to step, letting her take the time she needed.  When they reached the top, he reached down, his hand wrapping securely around her wrist as he pulled her up.  

“The view’s worth it, isn’t it?” He breathed into her ear, his arms around her waist anchoring her to him, his body buffering her from the light wind that had picked up.  

The weathered rock was warm and rough under their feet as they carefully moved closer to the ledge, Daniel letting out a nervous huff as they peered down at the waves.

“I’m actually scared of heights, you know,” he said with the biggest smile.

“That’s very reassuring, thank you very much,” Adriana said wryly as she watched him step even closer to the edge.

“Ever been cliff jumping?”

Uh oh. Adriana was coming to know very well what that glint in Daniel’s eyes meant. She let out an incredulous chuckle as she shook her head at him.

“What?!” Daniel said.

“How do you go from ‘oh I’m scared of heights’ to –” She gestured almost in disbelief, “‘yeah, I should definitely throw my body off this cliff’? Like, what’s your thought process here?” Adriana imagined it was the same thought process that pushed this man to fling a car at 300KM/H on a tight twisty circuit as his day job.

Daniel shrugged, almost too matter-of-factly.  “It’s just, I’ve tried to push myself over time to reduce my fear.  Like, once every two weeks, I try to do something that scares me –”

“Oh, like out-braking another car around a corner at insane speeds is not scary enough for you?” She interrupted him and he laughed.

“Ok, maybe I am an adrenaline junkie,” he conceded with a smile, “but conquering a fear –” His eyes were serious now, his hand lightly thumping his chest “– that sort of stuff makes you feel alive, and it challenges you, and tests you.  And once you’ve done it, you’ll feel so proud of yourself, and trust me, it feels fucking awesome.”

“You in?” Daniel silently held his hand out and Adriana placed hers in his.

“Ready?”

“No,” she said shakily as they took a few steps back, then they were running at full speed over the edge, Daniel giving a whoop of excitement as Adriana screamed. 

There was a moment of breathless weightlessness, then the wind was engulfing them, their bodies vibrating with tension and the rush of danger as they fell, the ocean below cushioning their fall.

It was terrifying. It was exhilarating and liberating.

Muscles trembling, her heart beating furiously as adrenaline raced through her blood, Adriana swam to the surface.  She broke through, gasping for air as she sought out Daniel.  He swam towards her with a smile, his hand snaking around her waist to bring her closer.

“Admit it, you loved it.”

Adriana’s lips brushed the tattoo on his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath, an almost feather-light kiss.  Of love and life. She looked up in his eyes, feeling so exuberantly alive in the moment.

“Yes. Yes, I loved it,” she murmured as Daniel bent down, his lips catching hers in a kiss, slow and deep.

~

“ONLY A PSYCHOPATH would choose passion fruit gelato,” Daniel scoffed as they left the tiny ice cream shop. 

“Fruits have no place in desserts, that’s like a crime.  It has to be like a caramel or a chocolate flavour–” He stopped to lick his rapidly melting cone of ice cream.  He’d gone with one scoop of caramel and one scoop of vanilla, like a normal person. “Even like a vanilla is acceptable.  I would even forgive a person who chooses anything strawberry-flavoured, but passion fruit?” He shook his head indignantly.

Adriana hummed as she enjoyed her gelato. Much to Daniel’s horror, she’d gone with a scoop of mango and a scoop of passion fruit.  It was light and refreshing – a favourite summer combo of hers.  “Well, don’t diss it until you’ve tried it,” she said as she held her cone out to Daniel. 

He bent down, his tongue tracking along the swirl that her own tongue had left behind.  Adriana watched in amused silence as he exaggeratedly smacked his lips, his eyebrows raising in surprise as the tanginess hit his taste buds.  She laughed as he bent down, unable to resist another taste of her passion fruit gelato. “See, it’s good, isn’t it?” She said as she held out her cone for him.  “It’s the acidity, it makes you want more and more.”

“Ok, you win,” Daniel conceded.  “It’s actually very good.”

“Stick with me, Ricciardo.  I’ll teach you the finer things in life,” she joked as they walked towards the beach. 

The night sky was streaked purple with the last rays of the dying sun.  They were both filled with that kind of dopey tiredness that came from spending the perfect summer day. They’d ended up exploring the village after their swim, walking the little alleyways and taking respite in the church when it had gotten too hot. Daniel had stopped each time to take a picture of something or the other and each time, he’d proudly shown her his shot. Every single picture had been out of focus and a bit blurry, just a random assortment of shapes and shadows, but he’d looked so proud of himself that Adriana hadn’t had the heart to tell him the truth about his photography skills. 

They sat down, toes curling in the still-warm sand.  Adriana tipped her head back, watching as the stars appeared one by one in the sky.  She was filled with a strange kind of melancholy in that moment.  The mechanic had sent word with Miguel that their car would be ready by late morning tomorrow.  She should be happy – they would be able to make the rehearsal dinner after all. This was all she’d wanted since the beginning, so why was she sad that this interlude with Daniel was coming to an end?

She laid back in the sand, clasping her hands over her midriff. “You never get to see the stars like this in the city,” she said with a sigh, a strange lump forming in her throat. 

Daniel laid down next to her, his arm brushing hers as he did so. “You should come see the stars on my farm,” he said as he propped his arms behind his head. “They look even brighter than this there.”

Adriana smiled wistfully at him, her heart thundering at the possibility of them existing beyond this moment. It was a throwaway comment, one made in the moment, she reminded herself. There would be no ‘them’ when they would get out of the car tomorrow. And it was fine, because that was how it was always meant to be.

She shifted on her side, looking over at Daniel. He looked soft in the dying light, almost drowsy, his body and face devoid of his usual nervous energy. The sleeves of his t-shirt had slipped down and Adriana could see the dense springy hairs of his armpits peaking past the hem, the interlocking letters of his LA tattoo getting almost lost in the dark growth. Just below it, usually hidden from view, was his tattoo of a baby carrying a skull and sword. 

Unable to resist, she reached out, her fingertips gently tracing the outline of the skull then slipping down to the cowgirl inked on the outside of his biceps, her thumb coming to rest just over the imaginary cowgirl’s lips. 

“Does it hurt, getting a tattoo?” She asked in a whisper. 

Daniel watched the way her fingers fluttered over his skin, her touch eliciting a ghost prickling sensation along his nerve endings. He hummed in answer, “it’s the addictive kind of pain. I guess it’s the whole pain and pleasure thing. You get through the pain to get something at the end.”

She propped her chin on his shoulder as she continued her exploration of the ink on his arm. “I like this one,” she said, her fingers coming to rest on the little cherub on his forearm. She loved how his belly button was aligned with one of the moles on Daniel’s arm, creating a sort of weird symmetry. “Does it have a meaning?” She asked as her nails scratched along the surprisingly detailed wings. 

“Red Bull gives you wings?” He joked, but she was looking at him intently, still waiting for an answer. “You know —” he shrugged, wanting to escape her searching gaze. “Cupid, god of love and all that,” he stammered, not wanting her to know how much thought he’d actually put in choosing every single one of his tattoos. He wished she took him at face value, like all other people seemed to do, like how they all thought he never stopped to think before doing something. 

He looked down at her, where her face rested in the crook of his neck. She had a knowing smile on her face, as if she’d seen to the core of him. “Which one’s your favourite then?” She asked, her questions endless. 

Daniel smiled, his hand snaking around her waist to bring her closer. “Maybe the little ‘3’ here,” he said, showing her where it was tattooed on his pinky. If he ever became world champion, there was no chance that he would ever ditch his beloved number ‘3’ for the number one.

“Or, maybe the ship and lighthouse on my knee,” he said as he shifted his leg towards her. “It was my first one. I thought if I got a big one, that would be it, but I was wrong,” he said with a laugh. 

Of course, her hand slipped down, Daniel watching her trace the familiar blue of the waves etched there. “I was young and idealistic. I wanted to get something that represented me leaving home and my whole journey to reach F1.”

He looked down at the rolling script inked there. No regrets, only memories. Even after all the shit of the last few years, it still rang true. 

“Was it scary leaving home so young?” She looked up at him, her hand warm where it still rested on the inside of his knee. 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice rough. “But nothing would have stopped me. I was hell-bent on racing.”

“You know you’re one of the lucky ones, right?”

“Why?” He asked, “because I made it to F1?”

“No,” she said softly, “because very few people are lucky enough to have this kind of passion for something in life and on top of that, to actually get to live it everyday.”

“The rest of us,” her voice was muffled, her face pressed against his shirt, “we just drift through life. We get up and get a job because that’s what society expects of us.” 

Daniel didn’t agree. It must take a lot of dedication and discipline to get to where she was in life. He tightened his arm around her, his lips brushing the top of her head. “That’s not true. I know for sure the other side is shitting their pants when they see you walking into a room. You’re a bad-ass lawyer, Adriana. Like a slayer of justice.”

“That’s the thing,” she said with a huff. “I didn’t go into law for any altruistic or passionate reason. I mean, I like the challenge of my job, but I’m not doing anything much other than make my clients money.”

“Why did you choose the law then?”

She was quiet for a moment and Daniel thought she was not going to answer. 

“We grew up very privileged, Carmen and I,” she said quietly. “Our family was well-off, our friends were well-off. Money was never an issue until my dad made some bad investments and we lost nearly everything. I don’t think Carmen knows to this day how bad things were, but I was older, I knew. I saw how it nearly killed my dad, nearly broke my parents’ marriage even. So, when I got the opportunity to study law in England, I took it because all I wanted was a stable job that paid well.”

“Money doesn’t have to be the evil that most people make it out to be,” his voice was more animated now as he spoke. “I mean, I know people think I left Red Bull for Renault because of money and honestly, I couldn’t care less what they think.

“That money allowed me to set my parents up for the rest of their lives after all they’ve sacrificed to send me to Europe.  It’s about me ensuring a secure future for my kids once I’m retired, and I know people will be after me if I ever say this in public,” he said with a laugh, “but I’m bloody proud that I was able to give my mom a Birkin.  I know it’s materialistic, but nothing compares to the fucking pleasure I get from spoiling my family and seeing the delight on their faces. So, if your job gives you the stability you want, I just think you shouldn’t feel guilty about it simply because you’re not out there curing world hunger or whatever.”

Adriana reached up, placing a soft kiss on his chin. “Thank you,” she whispered against his stubble.

They lapsed into silence for a moment, letting the sound of the waves drift around them.

“I really brought the whole mood down, didn’t I?” She choked out with a laugh, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck.

“No, you didn’t,” Daniel said, brushing his lips against hers.

“I think you should get your mom a Kelly to go with her new Hermès collection.”

“I will,” he said, his shoulders shaking with laughter.  “I’ll even get her one in the ugliest shade of neon green or something, just to keep with the new-money athlete look.”

He shifted closer to her, the hand around her waist moving down to rest on the curve of her ass, “I’m thinking –

“This is our last night here, so what do you say about one last dip in the ocean?” He said with a wink.

Adriana lifted herself up on one elbow.  “Daniel Ricciardo,” she poked him in the chest, “I have already thrown myself off a cliff for you today.  I am not going to go for a swim in the dark.”

“Come on,” he pouted at her.  “It’s going to be fun!” He said as his hands slipped to her sides to tickle her.

“No!” she laughed as she slapped his hands away.  He got up, whipping his shirt off and taking her by surprise, effortlessly threw her over his shoulder as he carried her towards the water.

The night echoed with the sounds of her shrieks and his laughter as once again, the waves engulfed them for a final time.

<< Previous Chapter

[whrsmym1nd]

lolita ✭ cs55

genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature

word count: 14.9k

You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness…Especially the week of his wedding. 

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.   

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).

cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY. 

She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground. 

He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.

But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began. 

Where Paradise met Hell.

-

Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.

They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew. 

You liked them older.

Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.

And that’s a story for later.

-

Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.

Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.

And your older sister, Ollie? 

Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one. 

Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.

Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good. 

Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped. 

“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”

Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.

“Papi, how are you?”

Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.

“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”

You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?

You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.

“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”

-

It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.

Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.

Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?

“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”

Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.

Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-

“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”

Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.

Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room. 

He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. 

“I am so, so, sorry.”

Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume. 

Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down. 

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”

Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.

“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”

Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between. 

“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”

Wait.

“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”

No, no, no.

“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”

Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?

What was so fucking special about her?

Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man. 

Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest. 

“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you. 

-

It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that. 

Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze. 

“How’s school?”

Turning to your dad, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”

The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming. 

Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain. 

“What do you do for work?”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.” 

You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair. 

“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”

Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.

“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”

The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookie I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”

“I might.”

Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”

You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.

-

You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities. 

Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”

He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.

“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”

He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”

It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over. 

“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”

“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”

7 years.

Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”

“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”

Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your dad waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.

“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”

He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted they’ve become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.

“Calling him wh- Papi?”

He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again. 

“Forget it. How would I know?”

-

Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless. 

Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.

Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one here. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.

“Not having fun?”

Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.

“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Bring up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.

“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night. 

“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights. 

You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.

“You know the groom or the bride?”

“Bride.”

He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.

Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.” 

“It is. Thank you for caring.”

He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”

“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”

He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it. 

“Ollie said it best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”

Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Maxie.”

Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.

The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”

“Nothing that should concern you.”

His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.

“Right. Have a good night.”

-

Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all. 

So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.

Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place. 

“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”

“Ouch.”

Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.

Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be. 

“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”

Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke. 

“When was this taken?”

“The day of our engagement.”

You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you. 

Fuck her, honestly. 

“Why’d you propose?”

He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?

“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware -  and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”

Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults? 

He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words. 

You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you. 

Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”

“You should leave.”

You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff. 

“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”

Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought. 

He’s fucked. 

-

The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along. 

“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room. 

It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back. 

Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you. 

The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She has told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight. 

His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete. 

His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your dad spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion. 

Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps. 

“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law. 

“What are you doing up so late?”

Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs. 

“First time?”

“No. It’s just been a while.”

You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns. 

“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”

And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All of a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes. 

His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly. 

“You know what you remind me of?”

You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips. 

“A Lolita.”

A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you head a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin. 

The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.

A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home. 

-

More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past you. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce. 

Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.

“Are you okay?”

Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up. 

“Why’d you do it?”

Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue. 

“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”

Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-

His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.

He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello. 

“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”

His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips. 

“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”

Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.

“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.

Pressing your ass one last night against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling. 

“Take care, Carlos.”

-

It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back in place. He smiles.

“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”

You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”

Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.”

“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”

The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.

“What are we talking about?”

“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.

“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”

Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”

“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”

Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other. 

“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”

“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.

Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular. 

“The fuck - Are you crying?”

“What do you want?”

She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”

Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.

“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”

You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience. 

But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?

She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away. 

“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”

We probably shouldn’t-

Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.

“You and him…”

She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.” 

“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”

If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.

But now you did.

“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”

-

Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.

Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.

“How are we all doing?”

They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.

Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.

Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.

“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”

Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”

You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”

“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.

“Not a word of this to Carlos.”

“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”

Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”

“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”

“He won’t believe you…”

She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”

“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”

Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you. 

“Are you okay?” 

Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.

“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”

“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”

Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”

-

If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this? 

You hated her.

You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.

Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.

“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”

You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.

“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”

“Thank you,” you blush.

Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”

“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”

“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.

“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”

Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”

Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?

“I always find you alone.”

You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.” 

“Ah. I see.” 

You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”

“About?”

“Marrying a monster.”

He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”

“You were thinking of quitting?”

He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”

It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.

Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow. 

“Want to dance?”

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to?”

“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”

Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”

His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.

“Mentirosa.”

“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully. 

The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…

His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap. 

Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.

“Goodnight, Carlos.”

-

Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie. 

He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing her clicking against her glass, she smiles widely. 

“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”

Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.

“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.” 

He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins. 

Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!

The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.

Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.

With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches. 

“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”

Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your dad beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.

As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast. 

“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.” 

True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps. 

“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”

-

Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red. 

Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.

“Boo!”

“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”

“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.

“You’re fucked up.”

Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”

“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”

He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.

“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”

He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”

Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.

Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.

“Fucking delicious.”

Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe. 

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of cours-s-e.”

Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.

“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”

The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action. 

“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”

Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.

Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think, fuck the consequences, as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.

“Do you-”

“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”

If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you are addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it. 

His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.

“How about mine?”

He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you. 

He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.

You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.

“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”

Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping it. You hiss. 

“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”

“You know it’s always been for you.”

With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.

“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”

His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”

Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out. 

“Let’s start off with something else then.”

You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place. 

“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”

“Yes.”

His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck. 

Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria. 

“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.

And that was only going to multiply.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”

“No,” you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.” 

His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his finger to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.

“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”

Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.

He adds a fourth digit.

“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”

He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax. 

Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.

This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening. 

Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.

Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.

Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.

Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.

His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser. 

Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.

The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.

Light of my life. Fire of my lions.

Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips. 

“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”

When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release. 

Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more. 

Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths. 

“Will you fuck me now?” 

You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.

“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi?”

In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.

“Then you should be fucked as such.”

With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.

First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.

I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.

Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.

“Oh God.”

Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.

“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment. 

Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets. 

The keys for the gate to Heaven.

Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.

“Does that feel good, bonita?” 

Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours. 

In this moment; he looked immortal.

“Carlos, I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.”

Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”

You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear. 

He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.

“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”

It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex. 

Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.

He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-

“I will.”

-

When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”

Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.

“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”

-

There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.

You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it hits your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.

You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.

“Nice ceremony.”

“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”

He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right? 

The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.

Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.” 

“Good to know.”

“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”

“Like you care.”

She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your dad. You always had a thing for those.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”

No.

“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”

It can’t be. 

Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.

Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”

She knows. He told her. And they still got married. 

“Ollie, don’t…”

Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.

“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”

Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?

“Ollie, please…I love him.”

Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”

Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by. 

Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.

You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.

“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?” 

Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.

“Carlos!”

Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake. 

“Coming.”

-

Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.

“¿Bonita?”

Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?

Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists. 

As red as your dress.

He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.

“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey.  C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.

“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.” 

But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore. 

A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene. 

None of it mattered anymore.

[whrsmym1nd]

I NEED to be in a threesome with Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc.

Not a want,

But a need.

[whrsmym1nd]

A House, A Home | CL16 & CS55

Summary: A loveless marriage usually comes after years, not before. You've always loved him, his best friend has always loved you.

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Hard Angst, Cheating, Mentions of Sex, Death.

Note: This piece has two heavy inspirations. The first is @lxclerc's amazing pieces 'Moth to a Flame' and 'Call out my Name.' They are both incredible pieces and I highly suggest you give them a read. The second is from a TikTok Account called 'ForPercival,' they are currently doing a social media AU which I cannot recommend enough.

PART 1: A House, A Home | PART 2: Where Do We Go? | PART 3: 'You Think, You Know'

Charles Leclerc is a husband. 

At least, he was your husband on paper. One year ago, a hidden agreement had been put in place between Scuderia Ferrari and the Leclerc Household; their son, the ‘Il Predestinato,’ of the team, (albeit one whom had had the most terrible season,) could continue to drive for the team, so long as he married the daughter of one of their longest-running investors.

That so happened to be you. 

You had been against the entire idea since the first day. After being introduced to Ferrari’s driver, you had instantly felt the divide between the two of you. You’d reluctantly shaken his hand and since then, had been thrown through a mixture of fake dates, a fake engagement and the fakest wedding that could possibly be imagined. The ceremony hadn’t even ended with a kiss, per tradition. 

It didn’t take long for your walls to crack; living with Charles, seeing him at his highest and lowest points, his most vulnerable behind the four walls of your home had caused your heart to soften. Forget being forced into this marriage, you’d grown to care, to adore the man who’d once burdened you with his presence. You dreamed of the day he would return your affection; how long would it take for you to realise you lived in denial? In your late-night fantasies, lying alone in one of the guest rooms you’d sought refuge in on moving into this ­house, you’d dreamt of lying in his arms, lazy morning breakfast, slow kisses when he would come back to you. To your home.

A home, however, is where you feel safe, warm, protected. You lived in a house with Charles. The man who would barely glance your way and after three months of your marriage, started coming home, smelling of rich perfume and lipstick marks littering his jawline.

The first anniversary of your marriage should have been special, even if he despised you in every known form to man. You’d woken up in your room, slipped on the silk robe which had been lying on the empty bedside and slipped out of the bedroom. In your heart of hearts, you knew there would be no significance of today; no flowers, no card, not even a simple text from your husband to signify the date in question. The only text you had received that morning, was a stern reminder from your father, that you were due to attend the Monza Grand Prix in less than one week. 

A soft sigh emitted itself from your lips; it was a routine you knew all too well. Every few races, the more significant ones; Monaco, Silverstone, Spa-Francorchamps, Monza, you’d play the doting wife; cheering for your husband whilst dressed in soft summer dresses, a forged grin if he managed to battle his way into the points. On those rare days when he would obtain a podium position, he’d greet you on the barriers with a soft kiss. It was all fake; a routine which had been performed so many times. Yet, each time his lips met yours, you could dream he meant something behind the affection. 

The train of thought had played through your mind for so long that you were unaware of the tears pooling on your lower lash line. So, what if Charles wasn’t at home for your anniversary? It was your thought for feeling any kind of emotion towards him in the first place. It was a business deal, after all. Did your husband enjoytreating you like this? His disappearance on that morning was a cold reminder that he felt nothing towards you. No sentiment, no adoration. 

Despite the tears which had bade your eyes that morning, until the mid-afternoon, you had a productive day. Of course, leaving the house was out of the question; what would the media say if devoted wife of Ferrari’s driver was seen without him, on their wedding anniversary of all days? 

Instead, you’d played soft music whilst re-organising your wardrobe, something you’d put off for a while now. Cooking a meal whilst lazily treading around the kitchen, experimenting with the spices that Yuki had gifted to you on your previous visit to a Grand Prix. The meal itself was too big to eat alone. Instead, you boxed up the remainders of what was left in the tray, carefully placing it in the fridge, knowing Charles wouldn’t actually eat it. 

Your evening had been…less productive. You’d found solace in a glass of red wine, lounging on the sofa of the main living area; usually, you kept as far away from that zone as possible. Charles would spend his evenings in the couch, eyes flickering between the television and his phone, no doubt sending longing messages to his mistress whilst his wife was in the home. 

The ­third glass had just about been drained. You were adamant upon gaining a fourth, no longer caring of any commitments you had the next day. Instead, you sat up abruptly from the sofa, hearing the gentle click from the front door. 

He had come back to the house. 

His green eyes barely took a second to meet yours, slipping off his shoes and placing them into the rack situated by the front door. A rustle of his jacket signified his option to stay. You saw him carry the garment over his arm as he trudged into the living area, set to lie in front of the television for some personal relaxation. 

With his entry to the room, you suddenly remembered your position. You’d hastily stood up from the couch, collecting the half-finished bottle from the low table, holding the glass to your chest to draw the attention away from your beverage. 

Charles said nothing; he’d unlatched the top two buttons from his dress shirt; faint purple marks nestled on the lower joint of his neck; a clear mark that his mistress had previously made, a sinful reminder of his adultery. 

“I left you some dinner in the fridge.” You mumbled, voice barely picking up over the sound of the television. “There’s some clean loungewear on the end of your bed, too.” You finish your sentence. Your husband doesn’t even attempt to tell you he’s acknowledged your words, eyes transfixed on whatever news was currently playing on the television. 

“Happy Anniversary.” You mumble, feet leading you back to the kitchen, the bottle of wine against your chest now seemingly the only attention you’d ever get. 

Charles Leclerc is an actor. 

The entire drive to the track had been bade in complete silence; not even the radio had been switched on to drown out the undeniable tension in the car. You had originally tried to make light conversation with the man; he couldn’t even be bothered to make a sound in response to any of your questions. 

You couldn’t handle the harsh tone he had snapped at you with the previous time you had been in the car; instead, you watched the rolling hills and glistening sun of Monza. It was always one of the highlights of the year. If not for the racing, you would have come here in your own time, to bask in the sun and to enjoy the secluded section of Italy as an individual. 

The incredible views soon began to fade out, instead replaced by expensive cars and adoring fans, leaning over the barriers in an attempt to see their favourite drivers; there was an uproar as your husband drove past the crowds; he was clearly the home favourite, as any member of the Ferrari crew would be in this location. Silently, you slipped on the sunglasses which had been resting in the pouch of your bag, knowing the paparazzi would be blistering your eyesight sooner rather than later. 

Charles effortlessly parked his car in the allocated spot. Silently, he switches off the engine, removing the keys and shoving them into his jean pocket. The man doesn’t so much as register your presence as he opens his door, leaving you to venture out of the car yourself. You’d carefully adjusted the flowing fabric of your dress; the patterned fabric flowing gently around your calves. 

You looked beautiful. You just wished your husband would care enough to tell you.  

Instead, his priority is the cameras leaning over the barriers. He doesn’t even look in your direction, instead firmly grasping your hand in his own; an act the two of you had performed for the crowd oh-so-many times. He waves towards the crowds; neither of you miss the adoring sounds, the coos for many of the fan’s favourite ‘couple.’ To so many, his affection seemed to clear to you, and yours did to him. 

Charles didn’t hold your hand with any adoration. His grasp was harsh, palms roughly mashed together, no intent to keep your grip safe against his own. You were certain that if you were to let go, he wouldn’t think to remedy the situation. Your theory is proven when you gently let go, instead keeping in step, just behind his figure; Charles’ hand seems as if it’s gone into idle mode. His eyes, however, stayed alert, vigilant. Silently, the two of you pass through the paddock security, pausing every few moments for Charles to sign a cap, take a photograph with a fan. 

It isn’t until you reach the outskirts of the Ferrari Building that you see her. Soft hair around her shoulders, clothing exquisite, her eyes flickering to your husband, offering him a sympathising smile. 

He may have been a devoted husband towards the press, to Ferrari, even to the majority of his team. However, the moment that the cameras were turned off, microphones pushed away, he was sneaking to his mistress, one he had shamelessly invited to so many Grand Prix’s over the past nine months. She was what he wanted; a fun and fancy-free lady, rather than the wife whom stood by his side. There’s a glance between the two of them, as if a whole conversation is had in that moment. 

You stay silent as you follow Charles into the Ferrari Building. Instantly, you’re overwhelmed by the welcomes that your husband obtains; so many of them pass onto you. Upon the questions of how married life is treating him, he smiles, fakes a laugh as he pulls you into his side, one hand firmly resting upon your waist. 

“Married life is perfect.” He insists, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, one which you falsely giggle about, ignoring the butterflies which were nestling in the pit of your stomach. “It’s even better when she’s standing right here, beside me.” 

The entirety of the room buys the staged scene, all except for two people. The first, obviously, is your father. He’s always there, watching that the driver is performing well. He knows of his affair, but in his mind, as long as the affair is kept out of the light, and his marriage was still official, their deal continued. Besides, he would speak to you both sooner rather than later upon extending the family; that would seal both of your fates towards one another. Nobody liked a husband whom left a wife and child. 

The second was Carlos Sainz; the second driver for Scuderia Ferrari. 

The Spaniard was all too aware of the affair between Charles and his mistress; after qualifying from Baku, Carlos had found his teammate behind the garage, his hands with a firm grip on her waist, their kisses entirely formed of tounge and teeth. The man had furiously ripped Charles from the woman, bellowing in his face about the wife he had, whilst this woman warmed his bed. A deep blush had formed over both of their cheeks, Charles explaining that you were aware of his actions. 

Carlos didn’t want to believe it; he’d frantically messaged you that evening, to which you had answered his question, confirming you knew of the affair. That evening, you had revealed everything to him, watching his eyes get glossier as the cruel details were flickered in front of his eyes. It pained him; he’d cared for you since the moment you’d first stepped foot into the paddock alongside your father. His heart shattered upon finding out that you had been betroved to Charles, that he had missed his chance, all that time ago. 

He waits; waits until later in the day to approach you. By this point, you had made yourself comfortable in Charles’ driver room. Of course, your husband isn’t actually there. After a brief encounter with most of the members on his team, he’d excused himself. Carlos knew that he had snuck away from the crowds adorned in red to see his mistress, likely stealing kisses and rough fumbles between one another. Whilst that was happening, you, were sat in his drivers’ room, skirts spread across the soft lounger, eyes engrossed in a book which had been enclosed in your bag alongside your sunglasses.

 You were the epitome of beauty in Carlos’ eyes. He could have stood at the ajar door to the room, watching you as you engrossed yourself in the story. Instead, he offers a light cough, drawing your attention from the book in your lap. He’s engrossed by your eyes, how the light reflected off them, the glow they offered. Your smile, how you presented your real smile to him so naturally, not the one you forged next to your husband on every single encounter. 

“Good morning, Carlos!” You greet him with a bright tone, standing up from your position on the couch. You offer him a hug, feeling his warm arms wrap around your waist, his breath against your face when he kisses your cheek gently. ‘In another life,’ you always tell yourself. One where you were happy, free to marry a man who would return your affection. 

“Good morning, Mariposa.” The nickname rolls of his tongue; one he had presented ever since you had once showed up in the paddock, the most beautiful butterfly-imprinted dress flowing in the soft breeze of that Monaco weekend. “You’re hiding out in here today, yes?” He teases. You offer him a small shrug, eyes not able to meet those sweet brown ones of the man stood in front of you. 

“Charles is…busy.” You finish the sentence abruptly. Carlos knows not to question further; the two of you have a mutual understanding as to where he would be at this point during the day; wrapped up in the arms of another woman. “He’s probably on his track walk…maybe. I’m just…keeping occupied.” You motion towards the window, looking onto the first straight of the track. “Plus…it looks windy out there.” 

“Well…” Carlos invites himself into the room now, looking down at your attire, seeing that your feet were enclosed with the brilliant white trainers you’d left home in that morning. The man shrugs off his own windbreaker, holding it in his arm. “If I give you my jacket, would you like to come on my track walk?” He offers, holding out the garment to you. 

You knew you would probably live to regret that moment. However, if you stayed resting in Charles’ driver room much longer, reading the same line of your book whilst your thoughts trailed away to how he would be with his mistress, you would go crazy.

“I’d love to.” You finally respond, slipping your arms through the large sleeves of Carlos’ jacket. Offering you a pat on the shoulder, he motions towards the exit of the driver’s room, determined to keep you on his side whilst walking across the track loved by fans far and wide. He hopes that everybody misses the longing gazes and soft smile on his face every time you make a comment, or your hands brush a little too closely. 

Charles Leclerc is a neck kisser. 

It’s not as if you would know this. The only kisses you ever had were those for show. Cold, meaningless interactions between somebody who attempted to show unconditional love and one who could dream of being anywhere else in that moment. 

You’d carefully unlatched the front door of the house, your wireless earbuds resting comfortably in your ears, unable to hear any other sound apart from the music playing. Slipping off your shoes, hanging up your jacket; your only intention for the afternoon was to go through some of the notes you had made regarding education courses in the area; sitting at home day after day was truly aggravating. You couldn’t pick up yet another hobby. Maybe some form of learning would interest you. 

But first, you needed a drink to cool yourself off from the sun. You’d remembered the smoothie packs you made earlier in the week; one of those and going through your notes seemed a perfect plan for the current moment. 

The second you rounded the corner into the open-plan kitchen, you wished that you could have taken the scenic route home. 

His mistress was sat up on the kitchen island, back straight, legs wrapped around the waist of your husband, her hands grasping at the soft curls atop of his head. Charles’ hands slid across her back, soft grunts coming from his lips, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses along her slender neck. She was loving it, at least, that’s what you could judge from the noises leaving her mouth. 

Before either of them could clock your arrival, both too wrapped-up in their embrace, you’d stepped out of the kitchen, hand over your mouth to silence the sobs which were threatening to escape. In a moment, you’re out of the hallway, letting your feet carry you up the carpeted stairs. 

The only intention now embedded in your mind was to drink so much you would forget the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. 

Charles Leclerc is a slow replier. 

The smell of tequila and sweat is strong in the cramped hallway of the club. It was insane to believe that less than three hours ago, you had been cocooned in your king-size duvet, lips slightly parted as you strung a meaningless thread of text messages to one another; you didn’t truly care how one of your friends felt in that moment, the heartbreak shattering in your chest was stronger than any other emotion you could begin to comprehend. 

No, your sole reason for texting was to leave this god-forsaken house. You kept telling yourself not to care. Charles’ eyes were all you could think about as you picked out your shortest, slinkiest dress; one which enhanced every curve and dip in the most elegant way. Charles’ dimples were all you could think about when your attention was drawn to outlining your lips with a deep red gloss. Charles’ lips were all you could think about, your foot sliding into the black heeled shoe, your feet finding no solace in being propped up within six inches of their life. 

Your friend had messaged you the location of the designated club. How anybody could enjoy one of those places sober was beyond your comprehension. Instead, you had taken the route of every other supposed being in that club; one shot of a suspicious-looking liquid had turned into sixteen – his number, you couldn’t help remembering. That was the reason you had found yourself stood motionlessly in the hallway, trying to navigate yourself back to the bar. At least seventeen wouldn’t have been tied to any other emotion. 

The plan, however, was short-lived when you hear a familiar voice call your name. Turning too quickly in your ridiculous heels, you’re met with the figures of Kelly Piquet and Max Verstappen, hands linked together, clearly nowhere near as intoxicated as you were in that moment. 

Kelly moves first; you had always enjoyed her presence, spending time with her around the Paddock when you were bade to attend. Penelope was one of the sweetest three-year-olds you had ever come across, always greeting you with a toothy grin and a story of her and ‘Maxie’s’ escapades. When her mother encloses you in a hug, you can feel the tears fall, your drunken façade falling immediately. The woman simply cups your hand in her face, delicately wiping the tears from your lash line, making sure to remove any heavy clumps of mascara. She asks you where Charles is, where your husband is. You can’t make any sound which you believe is cohesive, something about him being back at the house.

Max by now, has his own arm resting around your shoulder. You were Charles’ wife, after all. He knew Charles would do the same for Kelly if she was ever to be found in this state. Something strange stabs at his chest; maybe he was too protective, but he would have never of let Kelly get into this state, at least, not on her own. The driver carefully fumbles in his back pocket, unlocking his own device and filing through his contacts to phone Charles. 

The phone goes straight to voicemail, not even a dialling tone. Max tries a second time, a third time. Instead, he leaves messages. How on gods earth did Charles feel relaxed, knowing his wife would be out, probably on some form of alcohol, and not think to check that she would be safe returning home? If only he knew. 

The duo moves to a second plan. You needed some fresh air before they could attempt to get you into a car and take you home; standing in the corridor of a nightclub was not an ideal situation, instead moving you to the exit. Your eyes widen, looking up to Max and Kelly as if you had shrunk right down to Penelope’s age, as if they would be the saviours to get you home. By the way Max was holding you by his side and Kelly stroking your hair behind your ears, you may as well been their daughter. 

Conversations are had; neither of them is sober enough to drive you home, nor do they think it’s wise to try and sneak you into their hotel room when they had already issues when checking in a little too late. Their prayers are answered when a group of men wander past, one of them stopping to smack Max, his fellow driver on the back. His dark eyes, ones you know so well, widen when he sees your figure, looking so fragile in the light of the early hours in the city. 

“Mariposa.” He murmurs, running a hand across your cheek, wanting nothing more than to hold your frame against his chest. Your soft eyes meet his own dark ones, glossed in concern for how on earth you could do this to yourself. The man murmurs something to Max and Kelly, ensuring them that he’d been the sober friend out of his group; promising he would get you home himself. The duo has no reason to not trust him, both of them leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek before retiring to their own hotel. 

As the couple walk away from the club, you can only feel the warmth of Carlos’ hand, still resting on your face. When he at last turns his attention back to you, he simply wraps a strong arm around your waist, supporting you to stand in those awful, heeled shoes. At the pace you’re walking back towards his car, you would get there just after the sunrise. Instead, he scroops you into his grasp. 

The affection, the physical contact is all too much for you. It had been so, so long since anybody had held you, cared for you like this. Your clouded mind, now overwhelmed by warmth and alcohol allowed you to lean your head into Carlos’ sturdy chest. If you were sober, you’d be able to feel the way his heart raced when feeling you rest against him. 

“Why do you do this to yourself, Mariposa?” He murmurs, settling you into the passenger seat of his car. He can’t help but remove his own jacket, wrapping the soft fabric around your arms, letting you nuzzle into the scent of his fabric softener and aftershave. Once settling himself into the driving seat, he begins the route back to the house, one hand gently resting atop of your leg, some form of comfort for the world in your mind which seemed to be caving in. 

“I’d never do this to you.” He whispers, turning into the driveway that he had become accustomed to since the marriage. 

Across the city, Max Verstappen is sound asleep. His phone, plugged in on the dressing table across the room buzzes once, notifying a text from his racing rival. 

03:21: Charles Leclerc

Hey, sorry, was busy with something. Is everything good?

Charles Leclerc is a traveller.

You hadn’t expected anything to awaken you after the way your body had reacted to the previous night. A natural awakening, however, would have been a lot nicer than hearing the clicking sound of wheels against flooring. Whatever, whoever was outside of your room most certainly had a death wish to awaken you that morning. 

It felt as if pins had been pressed into every square inch of your head, the task of even sitting up and forcing yourself towards the door of your bedroom, still dressed in your slinky garment and…somebody’s jacket? The night for you had truly ended as soon as you had that ninth shot of tequila; you thought you could remember Max and Kelly in the same location at some point, maybe that was your mind playing tricks on you, longing for people who enjoyed your company. 

You were pulled back to the present when the figure of your husband appears at your doorway. He’s dressed already; loose hoodie and tracksuit bottoms cover his frame; his hand is clasping tightly onto a suitcase. There wasn’t a Grand Prix this weekend, you were certain. He would have left days ago for that. There was-

“I’m going to stay with…” He pauses, clearly trying to think of the correct way to word the fact he would be staying with his Mistress until further notice. Even in your state, you understand, simply raising your hand to stop him from speaking. You didn’t want to hear her name, you didn’t want to know that he would be spending the next nights wrapped in her arms, because for once…you didn’t care. 

They say alcohol causes dangerous mistakes, but in this moment, your hangover seemed to be your best friend. Every single time, you would think later, Charles would come back from seeing her, would leave to spend an evening by her side or sneak away during your paddock appearances…and you would be focused, your sole attention being on when he would return. Now? Your sole focus was on throwing up the remains of alcohol in your stomach, placing on a facemask and ordering some kind of comfort food to your home. 

You didn’t care about him, not right now. Your actions relay this, simply offering him a nod before speaking, your voice surprisingly clear for how much your throat was weeping for a drink.

“Okay.” You pause. There’s nothing left to say after that. What does he want you to do? Wish him a happy time? Charles looks equally taken aback, usually expecting some kind of warm drabble on how he needed to stay safe. In that moment, he can’t help but…want it.

“I’ll be back on Wednesday to pack for Singapore.” He pauses this time, taking in your appearance, your face so…gentle, soothing. “You’re coming, yes?” He remembers a conversation had many a time; his wife should be there to support him as much as possible, even if he wasn’t a fan of the sly ways he would have to leave her in front of his team members.

He isn’t expecting a shrug of the shoulders, bringing a hand up to rest on the door, clearly ready to close it at any given moment. 

“I’m not sure.” You offer him, sighing as you begin to close the door yourself. “My father said that race isn’t a priority.” That was the last sentence you offered him before closing the door. You obviously do not see it, but on the other side of the wall, Charles stands in confusion for a full twenty seconds before snapping back to his reality, his clutch on the suitcase a little tighter as he begins his decent down the stairs, wondering where on earth he had seen that jacket you were wearing before?

Your own priorities that morning was in full swing; you had placed your phone on charge, messages beginning to thread through as you stepped into the shower, the cool water savouring your skin. A fluffy robe is tied around your waist, brushing your hair around your back whilst your attention focused on rehydrating your skin, brushing your teeth and cleaning the dirt from underneath your eyes. 

The silence is strong when you walk back into your bedroom. In that moment, you opt for some music whilst changing into some comfortable loungewear, easy to roam around the house in and let your hair dry naturally. Sitting at the end of the bed, you’re able to check notifications, seeing Kelly had sent you a photo of Penelope that morning, smiling for her favourite aunt. You see your most recent text had come through from none other than Charles’ teammate, following one which had been sent early that morning. 

03:45: Carlos Sainz

Sweet dreams, Mariposa. Let me know if you need anything please. 

11:51: Carlos Sainz

Just seen on Twitter Charles is at the airport, he’s not off to see her, is he?

His message brings so many emotions to you, and also answers the question of who’s jacket you had been wearing that morning. Your heart can’t help but soften, knowing already that Charles is on his way to see...her. You think back to your mindset from earlier, how it was the last thing you wanted to care about. Why on earth would you care about them, when you could be focusing on ordering your favourite food and calling your nail technician to come to the house? That would make you feel better, better than he ever had.

You first drop a message to Carlos in response, wanting to let him know you had woken up from potential alcohol poisoning. 

12:25: You

Yeah, he is. Didn’t seem so happy that I couldn’t care less. Thank you for the jacket last night, I hope you had a good evening. 

12:28: Carlos Sainz

All the better for seeing you. Hoping the hangover isn’t too bad today. 

The messages spring backwards and forwards between the two of you for the afternoon; you’re smiling whilst you go through your favourite meal, the taste of it filling your mouth in the best way possible. There’s still a smile on your face when your nail technician arrives, painting some delicate designs into your fingers and toes, subtly asking who on earth has you smiling that much.

It isn’t until that evening; you’re sat in front of the television, a series you had watched one-too many times playing, your eyes glued to the storyline as if it would change again. The notification on your phone instantly drew your attention away from the screen, looking down to see a text on your screen.

21:03: Carlos Sainz

Why don’t you come and stay in Madrid for a few days? I’m sure we could both do with the company.

Charles Leclerc is a stalker. 

Well, maybe stalker was too strong of a word. However, his intentions were identical, having watched your latest Instagram story three- no, four times. Since leaving the home several days earlier, his mind could not stop thinking about the fact you truly could not care less about where he was going. This wasn’t you, was it? 

He’d arrived at her house, being temporarily distracted by luring himself into her bedroom, an afternoon of escapades and touches until she had rolled onto her side, telling him she was going to shower, and he would be more than welcome to join her. Instead, he pulled out his phone, seeing if you had done your usual; texting him to check that he had arrived safely, asking when he could be coming back to the house. 

There’s no messages, no notifications. Huffing to himself, Charles instead pulls up your Instagram, seeing that you had posted a new story that evening, a suitcase in hand, an emoji of an aircraft and a Spanish flag. You were off somewhere, and hadn’t told him? No, no. You always told him where you were going, you always-

“Are you not joining me, then?” Charles’ mistress’ voice suddenly draws him out of his trance, a towel wrapped around her body, hair around her shoulders. It was nowhere near as soft and as gentle as yours was, he realised in that moment. He eventually nods, pulling himself from his phone and following her into the en-suite. 

He’s so…distant for the remainder of his visit. When the two of them go to a secluded spot for lunch, when they go for a drive in a car they had hired for the afternoon. When she’s lazily pressing kisses along his neck, trying to grind into his crotch, desperate for his attention. When she finally falls asleep, Charles pulls out his phone, looking through any of the photos you had posted from that day. The soft sands of the beach, a hugestrawberry ice-cream cone, a mirrored selfie of yourself in the most beautiful sundress, hair curled and clearly ready for an evening in the Spanish sun. 

The routine continues, he sees your adventures, day after day. You’re touring small markets, trying local delicacies. One day, you’re simply lounging by a pool for the afternoon, a fat paperback resting on your stomach, clearly engrossed by the story which was resting on your stomach. Each time he sees a post, he can’t help but be drawn to how he wants to know how you’re doing. Maybe that’s why he drops you a text message, trying to gain some sort of traction from how you were doing. 

23:54: Charles Leclerc

Are you home? I’ve got a flight tomorrow afternoon.

You don’t respond; now, your phone is at the bottom of your bag, resting on the inside cabin of Carlos’ boat. For your final day in Madrid, he had insisted on taking you for a boat ride. You’d shyly mentioned earlier in that week that Charles had never taken you on his own boat, despite the fact that you were indeed married. 

The sun began to set over the rolling waves of the ocean; the boat is gently rocking, the sounds of water lapping over one another was music to your ears. You were sat at the edge of the now stilled boat, contemplating dipping your toes into the water. Your attention is so drawn to the scenery that you don’t hear him step away from the wheel, crouching next to you. 

“You could just go in.” He teases, “rather than staring at the water. You know how to swim.” The taunt causes you to roll your eyes, simply looking to the Spaniard on your right-hand side. 

“What? And have you speed off without me?” You retaliate, using your shoulder to nudge his body. Carlos clicks his lips together, mumbling something incoherent, before he’s suddenly scooped you up into your arms; despite your sounds of protests, he simply holds you against his chest tighter. His dark eyes flicker between yours and the ocean water below the two of you. Before you can say anything, his feet have made their own choice, jumping off the edge of the boat, both of you tumbling into the sea. Your briefly submerged entirely, before your head pops out of the waves, blindly reaching around until two strong arms encircle your waist. 

Both you and Carlos laugh for a moment, in pure awe that you just did that. He moves first, one of his hands releasing from your waist, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. There’s a silence between the two of you, where the only sound emitting from your surroundings is the gentle waves of the sea. In that moment, Carlos Sainz wants nothing more than to lean forward, pressing his lips to your own. They look so…soft. He craves to give them the attention they had been longing for so long. But…you’re married. And even if your marriage is loveless, to a point where your husband is openly in an affair, he would never do that to you. Instead, he settles for resting one hand on your cheek, gently kissing the top of your forehead, murmuring some Spanish wording you would never remember. 

If you did understand it, however, you would have known that he said there and then that he would always be devoted to you. 

Charles Leclerc is a loud shouter. 

His voice seemed to travel for miles, you were almost certain the entirety of the secluded neighbourhood could hear him at this current moment. The man had returned home from his secluded stay with his mistress to an empty house; at that point, you were still in the depths of Madrid, packing up your own suitcase, wishing Carlos luck on the Singapore Grand Prix. You had intended to return to the house after Charles had left himself; the heartbreak of seeing him littered in love-bites, his eyes transfixed to his phone from her messages was too much for you.

However, if you had been at the house when he had arrived home, you would have seen his neck clear, phone shoved into his back pocket as he called out your name, wondering if you had returned home yourself. Charles notices your trainers haven’t been left on the shoe rack; there’s no music to signify your afternoon relaxation. A light knock to the door of your room signifies there’s nobody home. The house feels empty. 

Maybe, Charles Leclerc was beginning to understand how you felt. 

His first instinct is to message you. Surely, you would have seen his text from his previous message by now; what would it hurt to check in once more. The man feels against his rough jean pocket for the device, swiping away from the multiple notifications from his mistress, instead scrolling to your contact’s name, seeing you hadn’t been active in almost twelve hours. You hadn’t even opened his message. 

His thumb hovers above the keyboard, not entirely sure what to say in this situation. Instead, he opts to call your number instead; you had always picked up to him; whenever he needed you to stay away from the house, or to remind you to be ready to leave at a certain time. The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. On the fourth ring, your voicemail comes through the speaker, signifying him that you were too busy to pick up the telephone. 

Charles didn’t grow concerned during the evening; he grew angry. You were his wife. You were supposed to be at the house to greet him, to welcome him with open arms, ask about his day. Even if…even if he had chosen to ignore your welcoming’s and kind heart for over a year. The man found a distraction in going through the information that Scuderia Ferrari had sent him for his journey tomorrow, making sure his passport was in the correct place. He hadn’t needed to pack; you had made sure to do that for him before your own departure, making sure his comfortable clothes were packed and sunglasses safely secured in the pouches of the case. 

It was late, late for you when the door finally opened, signalling the arrival of a second being. Charles immediately sits up from his slouched position on the couch, stepping up from the sofa, almost ready to give you a piece of his mind. Upon reaching the hallway, he sees you, slipping off your trainers, leaving the suitcase next to the front door. Even underneath your jumper, he can see your skin is glowing from the Mediterranean sun, yet your eyes are watering, tears leaking from your lower lash line. 

“Where on earth have you been?” He snaps, not actually wanting to hear an answer. You open your mouth to respond, but the man cuts you off before you can speak. “I am your husband. You’re supposed to wait for me!” His temper is getting the better of him, green eyes flickering with anger. 

At this point, you’re exhausted, overwhelmed from the news you had received on your drive home, and for this man to question your loyalties to your marriage? You can’t help the scoff which falls from your lips, the emotions building a little too much.

“You’re my husband?” You mock in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise my husband was around at long last, not wrapped in the arms of another woman!” Your temper flares, pushing your hair behind your shoulders, grasping the suitcase to take upstairs and repack. 

“You didn’t pick up your phone once.” Charles retaliates. Oh, the cheek of-

“Like when you pick up your phone when I call?” The tears are beginning to flow freely now, wanting nothing more than to get upstairs and completely ignore what has been happening. “You don’t Charles. You’ve done nothing to show that you’re my husband in the past twelve months!” You can’t help yourself now. Instead of seeking the new suitcase, you simply turn around on the step of the front door, slipping your trainers back onto your feet. 

“Where are you going?” His voice is now laced in concern; you couldn’t leave yet, surely? You’d only just returned; you wouldn’t be safe to drive in this condition. Why on earth did he care now? His question is answered, but not in the way he desired. 

“Like you would care.” It’s the last thing you say before the door to the house is slammed shut. 

Charles Leclerc is an investigator. 

When arriving in the Ferrari Garage of Singapore, there’s already an eerie feeling through the air; there are no smiles, sympathising looks thrown towards the back end of the garage. The driver isn’t stupid, he knows something must be wrong. He’s unsure of who to ask; who would know what is going on? 

His original plan was to ask Xavi, maybe during their morning briefing, until he is told that his flight has been delayed and wouldn’t be there until the late afternoon. Eventually, he spots his racing partner, nestled in the corner of the garage, his eyes flickering across his own phone screen, rapidly typing a message to somebody he would rather not admit to. 

“Hey.” He speaks softly, not wanting to startle the man. Silently, Carlos looks up from his device, offering his teammate a small nod, not wanting to prolapse the eye contact for too long. Charles can sense he knows what has happened, eyes narrowing in confusion. “Why is everybody so…quiet?” 

The look on Carlos’ face signifies he’s said something wrong. His eyes darken, shaking his head in disappointment rather than fury. It correlates to the kind of look his father would give him during a long talk, when he had broken something and not admitted to it. The Spaniard isn’t sure he should even tell his teammate what had happened. Instead, he changes his phone application to the Emails App, handing the device over to Charles. His eyes flicker across the screen, taking in the information. 

Ferrari’s biggest benefactor, your father, would not be attending the race weekend after the untimely death of his wife. Your mother. It suddenly correlates; how the night before, you had seemed inconsolable, despite the fact you had obviously had an incredible vacation. You’d tried to simply walk away, to let yourself grieve without bothering him. Instead, you had found comfort in Carlos as he had driven you to the airport, whispering sweet words of comfort, promising that everything was going to be okay. 

Charles feels his blood run cold, he feels sick. The look on the man stood in front of him tells him enough; he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Murmuring an excuse, he leaves the garage, stepping to the secluded back area, the realisation that he is everything his mother never wanted him to be, hitting hard. He still had the ability to run to her, to ask for her advice. You didn’t have that anymore. You didn’t have anybody, least of all your husband. 

The first thing he does in that moment, is pull out his phone, scrolling to the contact of his mistress.

10:09: Charles Leclerc

We need to talk. 

Charles Leclerc is a phone call away.

The past day had been filled of tears, clinging to your father, to your younger siblings, to your elder cousins. How on earth your mother had left this world early was beyond you. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair. Your mother was the one whom had been your rock for the past miserable year of your marriage. If not for her, you were almost certain that you would have thrown your silvery key to the house down a drain so long ago.

Without her guidance, without her tutoring, you felt like bird trying to fly individually for the first time; surrounded by fears and almost certain you’d fall into compromising position. 

You hadn’t rested. Not since you had arrived at the bleak family home. As customed, every curtain was drawn close, doors to each room sealed, no natural light emitting to the large house, making every shadow and crook of the building seem more terrifying. Eventually, your father had retired to his own bedroom, your younger siblings tucked into their beds, butterfly kisses pressed against their foreheads, a silent promise you were only down the hall if they so desired you. 

The bedroom you had grown up in remained almost identical to the one you had painted in your mind; pale pink wallpaper, a luxury bed lined with a rosebud-patterned quilt set. The vanity you had last used to get ready on your wedding day remained pristine, the perfumes and scents which had been your favourite still sitting atop of your shelf. And the photographs. A polaroid of your two closest friends from your childhood; one of your sisters on her christening day, the entire family dressed so elegantly; Charles is in that photograph, off to the side alongside his brothers; you had no idea there and then that boy with the ocean eyes would become your estranged husband. 

You could have continued going down memory lane, if not from the buzzing which was coming from your bed. The phone you had carelessly thrown atop of the blankets when first entering the room had finally got some service, a thread of text messages and missed phone calls beginning to filter through. Silently, you take a seat on the edge of your bed, eyes flickering across each message. Some are from members of the Ferrari team, others from family members you hadn’t heard from in what felt like centuries. 

There’s one. One from the man whom you had spent the previous week with. The one who had consoled you whilst travelling to the family home. Your husband’s teammate. 

23:05: Carlos Sainz

Mariposa, please let me know how you are doing. I’m so worried about you. Let me know if you need anything at all. 

23:31: You

Thank you, C. I should be heading home tomorrow, with a bit of luck I’ll be able to swing by and say hello. 

You hadn’t expected anything else that evening. You were settled, ready to focus on yourself for the remainder of the evening; in your eyes, there was a high likelihood that your siblings would be burrowing into your blankets later. Once dressed in nightwear, the makeup that had stained your cheeks removed, you noticed the soft glow of your phone screen. Another message had just been received, and in your wildest dreams, you could not have imagined whom it was from.

00:24: Charles Leclerc

I heard about your mother this afternoon; I am truly so, so sorry for your loss. Please let me know if there is anything I can do. I mean it. 

Your eyes had barely had time to view the message which had just been received, before your phone screen changes, taking the message away from your sight. The message thread is replaced by a photograph of your husband, his name lighting up on you phone screen. You don’t even think; instead, your thumb swipes across the screen, pressing the green button and holding the device to your ear. 

“Charles.” You speak one word, hearing your husband visibly relax on the other end of the line. You realise it’s the first time you’ve said anything coherent in hours; the tone of your voices echoes around the room. Did you always sound that sad when you spoke to him?

“Hey.” He isn’t too sure what he wants to say; the lack of conversation between the two of you means he isn’t aware if there are any boundaries, anything you wouldn’t discuss with him. No, he just wanted to speak to you, to check in. In reality, he had realised how lonely the house was as an individual. His mistress was gone from his contacts, not inviting her around to fill the void had made him realise how you had felt for oh-so-long. 

“How…” He pauses, not sure on how to finish his question. He doesn’t need to, because despite the lack of understanding of one another, you know he’s trying, trying to make you feel better.

“I’m…yeah.” You can’t find the correct words to say; ‘sad’ is an understatement, ‘fine’ is a rude response. Neither of you can find the words, but in that moment, you crave somebody who isn’t mourning the loss of your mother as heavily as you are. 

“We have some new neighbours.” He’s trying to find anything to create some conversation. It’s almost as if he knows the quiet of the room is making you feel uncomfortable. “They left us an invitation to join them for a tennis session- not that I’m any good.” He laughs to himself, remembering the previous time he’d attended a tennis game alongside his fellow drivers; he’d had to step out after a few minutes, completely terrified he would end up breaking his hand. 

He doesn’t hear anything from the other side of the line but continues to talk. “Are you…” He catches himself for a moment. “Are you coming back soon?” His voice turns into barely a whisper, as if saying the wrong thing will cause you to hang up immediately. He doesn’t hear anything for a moment, taking a gentle sigh and awaiting your response. 

“Yeah.” You pause. Are you doing this? Are you having a conversation with your husband? “I’m going to fly home tomorrow afternoon. I think my father wants space.” Your sentence closes, looking around your room. The silence is deathly; in that moment, you don’t care about everything that’s happened. All you want is for somebody to hold you in their arms and tell you it would be okay. 

“I’ll come and get you.” Charles has spoken before his mouth has had time to catch his brain. Your eyebrows quirk in confusion. The only time your estranged husband ever drove you himself was on your endless journeys to races; you would sit silently, curled away from his figure, eyes transfixed as the world passed by around you. The man not only offering but wanting to pick you up from the airport was a new-found curiosity. 

“It’s okay.” You don’t let him continue. If previous standings have taught you anything, it’s that behind those mesmerising eyes cannot be trusted. You knew the secrets that lied beyond the ocean settled in his eye. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt you.” Part of your heart is craving to bring up his mistress; how she would probably be warming his bed in the current moment, walking around the house which you ached to find comfort in. 

“You wouldn’t.” Charles is quick to respond; in his heart of heart, he knows getting you to trust him again would be a monumental task. He’d do anything to prove he would be the husband who would look after you. Who would love you unconditionally; the husband you deserved.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve landed, okay?” It’s your final compromise. The woman whom you had been twelve months ago would love nothing more than to run into Charles’ arms; whether he cared for you the way you did; you would always desire his attention and affection. You’d had to learn through the months that some of life’s biggest temptations had to remain untouched.  

Charles Leclerc is your husband.

Landing back in the country was almost eerie; despite being away for only a miniscule amount of time, you felt changed; changed by the loss of your closest companion, changed by the fact your husband had been the one to call you, and not to throw some crazy request down the telephone line. 

Arrivals, as always, were completely smothered; couples reuniting, children screaming at the sudden change of scenery. After obtaining your own bag, your eyes flicker through the never-ending crowds, desperate to find some recognition. 

Standing apart from the crowd, looking effortlessly rugged in his athletic shorts and hoodie, hair pushed underneath a snapback. His eyes are trained on you, as if he had sensed your presence into the room in less than a moment. The breath catches in the back of your dried throat, a pair of eyes that you trusted undoubtedly. Stumbling, your feet carry you over to the arms of your favourite Spaniard, your head instantly finding solace in the joint between his shoulder and neck, the cologne you were used to from his attendances around the paddock creating a cloud of comfort. 

Carlos’ hands effortlessly lock around your torso, pulling you tighter into his chest, one palm rubbing up and down your back. It was the first time, the first time in a long time that anybody had offered you this sort of affection. Mindlessly, the soft tears begin to pool at the bottom of your lash line. Soft snuffles emitting from your lips cause the man to hush you gently, pulling your face away from his body, cradling your head between his larger hands. 

He mumbles something quietly, something about taking you back to the house. If it was him, the man would bundle you into his car and drive to his own home. He’d nestle you under his bedroom blankets, dress you in one of his hoodies. Instead, his rough palm finds your soft fingers, intertwining your hands together. Carlos takes your suitcase in his free hand, guiding you to his car parked outside of the airport. 

Not much is said during the shortening journey back to the house; the tears glossing your eyes reflect the streetlights, transfixed on the roads which you had left for a few short days. The tears will continue to fall; her loss had taken a part of you that you would you never thought would return. The man to your right, eyes focused on the road can sense your heartbreak. He doesn’t wait to push you; he had spoken to you shortly after the news had originally broken, in that conversation, you had barely been able to say ten words before your voice cracked. Instead, Carlos rests a warm hand on your leg, a silent promise that he will be there no matter what. 

The journey feels too short; eventually the driveway to the house rolls into sight, Carlos slowing down the car. When it comes to a halt, he steps out immediately, obtaining your suitcase from the rear of the car, placing it down on the wheels. By this point, you’d wiggled from the seat, ready to wheel your case into the house. However, before you can move, his arms engulf you once more, clinging so tightly, your feet began to lift from the floor. You had clung back just as tight, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek; a silent ‘Thank you,’ for everything. 

The embrace ended, Carlos awaiting until the door had unlocked, nodding when he saw you safely enter the house. The building is practically silent; no television sounds, no gentle music, not even the whirr of Charles’ simulator in his downstairs office. Ears pricked, you could hear the jets of a shower from upstairs, the assumption that he must have been in the shower. Paranoia threads your mind, she wouldn’t be showering alongside, would she?

You don’t let your mind wander; instead, you focus on lugging the suitcase along the staircase, silently glad you had gotten further with it since your trip to Madrid. Beelining towards your room, the suitcase rolls behind you, resting it in the corner of the room, a silent promise you’d wash everything tomorrow. However, a delicate bouquet of soft, pink and fresh flowers decorated the vanity of the room; you knew you hadn’t bought flowers since Madrid, and these…They looked as if they’d been placed mere minutes ago. 

Overthinking had always been dangerous; instead, you keep yourself busy, wiggling your skincare bag from the suitcase, padding into your bathroom with that and a fresh set of long pyjamas; the late-night breeze had begun to tickle your skin since removing yourself from Carlos’ warm arms. The relish indulges your body, shampoo trickling through your hair, body wash bubbles tickling your body. You’d stepped out a few moments later, changing into the soft clothing, sitting in front of the mirror, brushing your hair out as carefully as you could have. 

Silently, your feet carry you from the en-suite towards the main bedroom. Standing at the head of the doorway, is none other than your husband, hair own hair damp from his shower, dressed in soft tracksuit bottoms and a tight tee-shirt. He’d seen your suitcase nestling in the corner of your bedroom, your phone had rumpled the blankets of your bed. Charles had been the one to hear the shower this time, deciding to wait, just to see your soft eyes.

They’re bloodshot; you look so…frail. The years of heartbreak littered across your face. Charles’ heart practically breaks; before you can say a word, he’s across the room, arms pulling around your torso, pulling your head under his chest. Your instinct tells you to fight it, why on earth would you accept some form of affection from a husband who had openly destined you for so long? 

And yet, you subcome to his affection, hesitantly holding your own arms to his chest. His scent, his warmth.You felt as if you were dreaming, eyes wet from the overwhelming care, feeling gentle kisses press to the top of your head. 

You don’t remember when Charles scooped you to his chest, tucking you into your fresh blankets before nestling in behind you himself. You remind yourself; this is a one-off. You’re almost certain that by tomorrow, he’ll be back in the arms of his mistress, your moment tonight will be an absent moment to your husband. You’ll take it; if it’s one night in his arms, feeling his breath against the back of your neck, tip of his nose pressing into your back, one hand pressed against your stomach in comfort, you’ll take it. 

Some point during the night, your phone buzzes, the sound barely audible on the blankets of your bed. You groan slightly, the bubble of yourself and Charles giving you a true form of sanctuary, a true form of home. Curiosity in the night takes the better of you, lifting the dying device to your eyes, slightly blinded by the glow of the screen. 

Despite being wrapped in the arms of your husband; you can feel your blood turn cold when you read the one sentence which had been left for you to find. 

01:46: Carlos Sainz

I’m in love with you. 

[whrsmym1nd]

𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐜𝐬𝟓𝟓

SUMMARY: if charles can't value what's in front of him then carlos is more than willing to take on the role. REQUESTED: yes but it's for a personal friend. WARNING: kinda toxic carlos, unrequited love, asshole carlos (not towards the reader), a little bit of angst, SMUT, 18+, oral (f receiving), mean carlos, slight corruption kink (blink and you'll miss it), overstimulation, spitting, lost of virginity, p in v, unprotected sex, fluff PAIRING: reader x carlos sainz, reader x charles leclerc WORD COUNT: 6.6k

NOTE: this was meant to be much much longer but i decided to cut it into 2 parts. part 2 will lead to eventual threesome with carlos and charles. let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

part 2: call out my name

masterlist

The first time Carlos met you, he knew you were off limits. Always following Charles around with that same lovestruck look in your eyes, your body coming alive whenever the monegasque touches you. Your affection for him is written all over your face. 

“We’re just friends,” Charles is always quick to correct whenever anyone assumes otherwise. “Best friends,” he’d add as if that made it better and Carlos would watch the way your face would fall, lips slightly quivering as if you’re about to cry on the spot. 

Frankly, Carlos thought it’s a waste. Why are you, whose incomparable beauty and wit, is settling for a man who very obviously doesn’t return your affections? Do you enjoy making a fool of yourself? Do you enjoy the pain?

Carlos has very few bad things to say about his teammate, getting along with him so well he’d even consider him a good friend but one thing is for sure, Charles is an idiot for not claiming you given the first chance to do so. Can’t Charles see the longing looks and lustful gazes frequently thrown in your direction, Carlos’ along them? 

Though he supposes he should thank Charles for handing you to him with a pretty little bow, for letting you slip through his fingers so Carlos can snatch you right up. 

But Carlos bided his time. Charles is Ferrari’s golden boy, their walking god. The prodigal son he’s called. Il Predestinato. The Chosen One. Carlos is the newest member of the team, one with much more to prove. Charles may very quickly deny speculations between the two of you but his claim all over you is still evident. In the way he touches you, the way he keeps you firmly by his side. Carlos had far too much to lose by immediately creating tension within the group. 

He’s a patient man. He can wait, plan and plot. And so apart from the usual hellos when you meet each other and the mandatory polite smiles, he stayed away from you, choosing instead to always keep a watchful gaze on your figure whenever the two of you are in the same room. 

He’ll play the game and he’ll play it well. He’ll wait. He’ll wait patiently knowing that by the end of it, it’ll be you puny on his palm. And it’s not like you notice, far too busy over your unrequited feelings for the monegasque to even look in his direction.  

In his time watching you, Carlos learned so many things about you, things not many people notice. He learned your mannerisms, what makes you tick and what makes you smile, what makes you frown and what makes you pout. He knows your coffee order as well as his own and the foods you don’t eat. He learned the things you like and disliked, learning you till he’s got you memorized like the back of his hand, all his knowledge about you being kept safe for when he finally deems it’s time.

It isn’t like his attraction for you is pure though. Carlos wants you in such a primal way, wants to take you, to claim you. He can barely remember the amount of times he’d touched himself to the thought of you.

It seems the universe is on his side though. He hadn’t even needed to do anything to have you falling straight into his arms. 

It was after the Bahrain grand prix, the first race of the season with Ferrari taking home a 1-2. Everyone is in their best mood, drinking the night away as celebration for the best opening start of the season. Carlos found you in the nearly empty hallway leading to the bathroom away from the crowd of people. You’re leaning against the wall with your arms wrapped around yourself, cheeks red and wide eyes a little less bright than usual. 

You look like a wounded angel in your little white dress, legs and back bare with your hair falling beautifully over your shoulder, shorter strands littering your face. You look breathtaking and Carlos couldn’t not approach you. 

And so armored with his usual friendly smile, he situated himself next to you. “Hey.”

You look up at him from under your eyelashes, offering him a smile of your own. You look sad though and he can’t help but hate Charles a little bit for it. “Hey, Carlos. Congratulations on P2.” 

Carlos smiles at you again in thanks. “What are you doing here?” He asks even though he already knows the answer. In his drunken stupor, Charles had found a woman to entertain him for the night, all wrapped up in her on the table you shared. 

But you only shrug your shoulders and the action made his eyes travel to your collarbone to the V neck of your dress leading to the valley of your breast. Your skin is covered in goosebumps and he noticed your visible shiver. 

“I needed a breather,” you say, which isn’t exactly a lie. You need a breather from Charles and his suffocating presence. “How about you?”

The truth was that he followed you after he saw the way you removed yourself from the group, eyes downcast and bare skin so tempting he couldn’t not follow. He ignored your question and instead shook off the jacket he wore, placing it around your shoulder. You smile at him, a little less sad than the one you gave him earlier, as you slip your hand through the sleeves, the jacket being much too big and practically swallowing your body. 

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, both leaning against the wall. You look a little lost in your head, still hung up over the sight of Charles kissing some girl he just met. For the longest time, you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re fine with your place beside him even if he never returns your feelings. Loving Charles has always hurt but you’ve been doing it for so long that you’ve become familiar with the pain, even allowing it to bring you comfort. 

Carlos sighs, practically hearing your thoughts as his hand reaches towards you, placing them on your shoulder to force you to face him. For months, he’s watched you torture yourself over Charles from afar but he’s only now realizing that he can’t do it from up close with your sad, defeated eyes staring back at him.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he says and Carlos had to control his breathing as you looked at him like that, eyes so wide and naive, looking so pure and lost. He wants to protect you and ruin you at the same time. “You deserve better, cariño, not a boy who doesn’t know how to treat you right.”

“He’s all I’ve ever known,” your voice breaks a little and he wanted nothing more than to punch his teammate at that moment. 

“That doesn’t mean he deserves you,” he says through gritted teeth.

You’re unable to say anything else as you melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his torso and he pulls you to his chest. His arms around you are tight, seemingly trying to keep you together as you break apart. 

The two of you stay like that for a few seconds. You don’t cry, which is a good thing because Carlos doesn’t think he can handle that without marching back inside the club and punching the living daylights out of Charles, but you do stay in his arms, your hands clutching at his shirt. 

“I’ll take you back to your room,” he says, deciding that the best thing for you right now is sleep. You only nod, lightly pulling yourself away from him. 

The bar you guys had went to was just in the hotel lobby, a small place with barely any people and so he leads you out, hand firmly clasped against yours as the two of you ride the elevator to your floor. 

“Charles…” you start, voice quiet. “Charles has my key card.”

Carlos nods. “You can stay with me.”

He half expected you to argue but you only nod your head as he leads you to his own hotel room, swiftly swiping the card to open the door, opening it bigger for you. The rest follows swiftly. Carlos lends you clothes to change into after having decided to share a bed. The two of you made quick movements to prepare for bed, the long day had you exhausted and determined to get under the covers. 

And yet, as soon as Carlos turns off the light, it’s like all of your exhaustion melted away, finding yourself wide eyed as you stared at the ceiling, his presence next to you pressing against your skin. You’ve shared a bed with a man before, of course. Ever since you were kids till adulthood, you and Charles never had a problem sharing one. But Carlos’ presence is much different from Charles’ familiar weight next to yours. Carlos’ feels demanding, firm. His skin feels a little too hot, causing you to lightly pull down the covers to reveal more of yourself to the chilly, air conditioned air. 

It’s a little terrifying. He feels much stronger than you. But it’s also a little exhilarating, your mind daring you to reach forward and touch his skin. He’s not wearing a shirt and you’re tempted to run your fingers through his chest, his jaw, his hair. 

“Carlos,” you speak softly, still staring at the ceiling.

“Hmm?” 

“Can I touch you?” 

He doesn’t think you know how your question sounds. He doesn’t think you know how the innocence in your voice makes him want to wrap his hand around your throat. But nevertheless, he nods despite the fact that you can’t see him. “Yes.” 

You don’t need to be told twice, shifting so you’re facing him, the darkness bathing the two of you hiding the blush in your cheek as your hand reaches forward, soft pads of your fingers hesitantly placing themselves on his jaw. 

Your fingers are cold as it slides from his jaw to his neck, palm pressing against the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. His own hand places itself on your waist, drawing circles on the fabric of his shirt as your hand finally reaches his chest, tracing every bump and hollow curve till you reach his abdomen. 

Carlos sucks in a breath, his hand flying to wrap around your wrist, stopping your movement. With the minimal light, he can see the way you looked at him, so so innocent as though you don’t understand why he stopped you. 

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, amor,” he warned you, voice quiet as he stared into your eyes. 

But a pool had started in your panties and for the first time that night, you actually feel alive. You wanted more of him. You want him to make you forget. “Make me forget tonight.”

Carlos groans at your words, cursing in Spanish that you barely had the time to decode before his lips are on yours, climbing on top of you as he holds your wrist over your shoulder. You moan into the kiss, trying to pull your hand away to be able to touch him again but his body is firmly pressing you against the mattress, knees keeping your legs open. 

“Carlos,” you whine, desperate for some sort of friction as you rut against him. 

“Don’t whine.” His voice is low and demanding, full of authority as his lips sucked on your neck, finding a sweet spot that had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head. He’s sucking and biting, flawlessly marking up your neck as you all but fall apart under him. 

“Please,” you mutter breathlessly, still pulling at your wrists. You’re desperate to be touched, trying to create as much friction as you wiggled under him. 

“Please what, angel?” Carlos mocks. He’s waited for this for far too long to be nice now. 

“Please touch me,” you don’t even hesitate, Charles being the farthest thing from your mind with Carlos all over you. 

“Where can I touch you, niña bonita?” his words rushed through your veins, close enough to feel the thump thump thump as he pressed his lips against your jaw, planting open mouthed kisses

“Everywhere,” you breathe out and Carlos grins, finally letting go of your wrist, giving you free reign to run your fingers through his hair as he makes a quick effort to rid you of your – his – shirt. 

“Are you sure?” He asks again, wanting to be absolutely positive that this is what you want to, that you aren’t just letting your emotions get the best of you. 

“Yes, Carlos, please.”

And who was he to deny such pretty pleas?

His lips left a path of destruction everywhere he touched, the burning sensation of his breath against your skin going straight to your core. Eventually, he reaches your nipples, tongue swirling and fingers pinching the other. His teeth marking all over your breasts as he continued his trail down.

“Stop me,” he tells you as his fingers pull the garter of your panties. “Stop me or I won’t be able to stop, baby.” 

“Don’t stop,” you quickly say, writhing under him. “God please, don’t you dare stop.” 

“You don’t have to call me god. My name is just fine,” he mutters against your skin as he pulls your underwear down. If this is the only night he gets with you then he’s going to make sure to ruin any other man for you. “Thought you were a good girl, baby. Always looking so innocent.”

His lips pressed against your clit, tasting the honey that seeped out of you, causing you to shudder as he situated himself between your legs, elbows pushing your legs apart. His tongue flats on your clit, swiping a lick as you moan out, fingers clutching desperately at his hair, a chorus of pleases and Carlos tumbling out of your lips. He doesn’t think there could be a much better sound as he pokes his tongue into your entrance, your tight walls pushing him out. 

Your body is arching up as he sucked at your clit, making Carlos place his arm around your stomach, pushing you back down as his other hand gathered your wetness, spreading it all over your folds before slowly pushing in, a cocky grin on his lips as your moan grows louder. 

His tongue and fingers worked together, one slowly pumping in and out of you as he let you adjust and his lips sucking into your clit. He swears he’s meeting his creator as you come into his mouth, voice becoming strangled and your back once again arching as you scream his name, loud enough that Carlos hopes everyone in the floor can hear it. You sound angelic and sinful all at once. 

“One more, pretty girl,” he tells you. “Tan bonito como este,” he tells you, watching as you shudder with each swipe of his tongue. You’re far too gone to even care about what he’s saying. “Y todo mío.”

Your fingers running through his tousled, demanding him to keep going and to stop at the same time, the faint taste of iron on your tongue as you bite your bottom lip, soft angelic melodies of his name escaping your lips. He sucked harder, wrist working faster as he added another finger in, pumping in and out of you at a much faster rate than he had a while ago, working to bring you to your second orgasm of the night, one he knew you needed but in reality, he needed more. 

"That feels good doesn't it love? You like it when I touch you like this?" Carlos groans and rubs your clit faster. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.

"Yes, yes, oh my god, yes please. yes," you moan loudly.

“Good,” he says, a smug smirk playing on his face. It’s incredible how easy it is for you to submit to him, to beg to his name as if he’s your newfound religion.

It’s an ego thing as his tongue carved Sainz on your clit with the promise of making you his. His kisses stamped your inner thigh, teeth gently nibbling on your skin as he marked what’s his. You don’t know it yet but you’re his. Once he’s done with you, you’ll never want another man again. His tongue slipped inside you, his finger now tracing his name. 

“Can I… can I come please?” Your voice is shaky and broken as you ask him, full of obedience that he didn’t even have to teach you as you so easily surrendered yourself to him and his control. In that moment, your body belonged to him and you both knew it.

“Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel this good,” he demands, your cum dripping from his lips. It takes effort for you to even comprehend his words and much more to force your eyes open as you meet his hazel ones. His efforts doubled in speed and strength, your screams becoming louder as he pushed you to the edge. 

You gasp loudly as you feel your whole body trembling even more and then you feel your body tense as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you’reexperiencing, your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he tells you softly as he crawls over to your side, brushing the hair from your face and placing his lips on you. Your body is motionless against his as you climb down from your back to back orgasm. 

“Open your mouth, cariño,” he says, gently tapping at your jaw. You comply as he spits into your mouth, the taste of you now present on your taste buds. You’re quick to swallow, making Carlos grin at you. Your undeniable submission to him gives him a kind of satisfaction. 

“Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” He asks softly, hand on your cheek a deep contrast to what his fingers had been doing to you a few moments ago. “Do you want to stop?” 

You shyly shake your head. Carlos thought you looked most beautiful like this, so incredibly ruined for him. “I’m not- I haven’t–” you start, stuttering over your own words.

“Speak up, cariño,” he tells you and your cheeks heat up even more. 

“I haven’t…done it,” say finally, voice increasingly getting shyer with each syllable. 

For a minute, Carlos was frozen, not having expected your admission. You’re twenty four years old after all, he had expected you to at least have some experience, but he knows you’re telling the truth from the light blush on your cheeks as you all but hide your face to his shoulder, touching him so surely as if you’ve done it a thousand times before. 

He could feel himself melting a little, your shy smile and red cheeks so adorable that he couldn’t help but smile back at you as he wraps his arm around your naked figure, pulling you closer towards him.

“We don’t have to,” he assures you. “We can just go to sleep now.”

“I want to,” you’re quick to say, placing your chin on his shoulder. “I was saving it for…”

For Charles. You don’t bother finishing your sentence, you both already know. The sting in his chest is instant, a reminder that you’re not his, at least not fully. 

And then the pride rolls in. You’ve saved this for Charles for years, probably rejecting a multitude of men along the way and yet you’re so willingly offering it to him now, with no hesitation and no question with the monegasque the farthest thing from your mind as you stared up at him with those big eyes of yours. 

Before you can say anything else, his mouth is on yours again, whatever little softness his kiss carried a while ago is gone now. He’d never let you go, not when he’s already got a taste. There’s no way he’s ever letting you go now, not when you’re holding on to him like that, nails digging on the skin of his back, naked body pressed against his. 

And if he does lose you, if another man gets to touch you after him, he’ll make sure to ruin you for them. He’ll make sure it’s him on your mind every time, his name you’re begging to scream out. 

You’re warm. Tingling with anticipation threaded into your nerves and heat. And you feel your body throbbing all at once as Carlos claims your mouth. Your hands are eager, pulling at the shorts he’s still wearing, a whine at the back of your throat.

“Carlos,” you breath out, needy all over as he takes his time marking your skin. 

“What did I say about whining?” He asks, immediately getting you to shut your mouth and instead settling for biting your lower lip. 

Still though, Carlos does as you ask, pulling away from you in order to remove his clothes. You gulp as you watch his unbearably hard cock reach his stomach. He was carved by god himself you’re sure. No mere mortal can possibly look as beautiful as he does now in all of his naked glory, chest perfectly refined, hair tousled and back and arms littered with scratches. 

Heat travels to your cheeks once you realize you’re staring. You try to avert your eyes but Carlos is crawling back at you, hands cupping your cheeks as he all but forces you to meet his eyes. “You can stare, Amor. I’m yours to look at.” 

His declaration ignites a blazing warmth in your chest, giving you the courage to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you in order to once again connect your lips. He’s yours. He’s yours. And you’re his. You’ve never felt this alive before, never quite felt like this before. Not with any man and not with Charles. You’re his. You know that now. 

“You’re beautiful,” you mutter to no one but the world as his lips travel from your lips to your jaw. 

Carlos only hums as his lips travel all over your face and neck. You whimper as his mouth presses kisses all over your sensitive skin, your hands traveling to his hair and tugging lightly.

“I have been thinking about this moment for so long.” He rasps, kissing your throat softly. Your body trembles against his as he continues to cover your face and neck with kisses.

Your brain is all over the place, eyes heavy and clouded as you try to tell him how much you’ve been wanting him. All your thoughts overwhelm you, disabling any rational understanding of what is going on. You just want him. You need him. 

All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.

The whine that comes out of you only drives Carlos to seek out more of those sounds, they are potentially the most amazing sounds he’s ever heard. Your arms wrap around his neck, in an attempt to bring him closer to you, your hips accidentally move against him making him groan. 

“Didn’t take you for the needy type, angel,” Carlos teases and you want to tell him to stop, to just fuck you already. You needed him so badly but you know doing so will result in nothing. He’s going to kill you with anticipation, have you begging for his touch. 

“Carlos,” you beg, wanting to cry with unmet arousal. “Please. Need you so bad.”

“Shh,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll take care of you, baby.” 

His lips travel to your breast, greedily claiming your nipple with his mouth. His tongue circles your most sensitive nerve, making you let out another moan. You whine as your cunt starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention. Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. His lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as you try to catch your breath. You’re panting, barely able to think straight. 

He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips to halt your movements, causing a whine out of you as he pushes your hips against the mattress, so desperate to feel him again. Finally, he slowly moves towards the bed and gently spreads your thighs apart as he fits himself between them. He positions his body against yours, hand coming up to your face to caress your cheek again as you feel his other wander all over your body making you breathless already.

You feel his cock momentarily against your wetness which makes you thrust against him.

“I need you,” you pant against his lips, but Carlos pulls his hips away slightly with a small smirk on his face. “Please…”

You need him so bad and you’re getting impatient as you feel him press kisses all over your neck, being much gentler than you know he’s used to. He’ll have his way with you eventually but for tonight, your pleasure and comfort is all that matters. Panting, you feel him slowly go down your body. He momentarily wraps his mouth around one of your nipples and sucks lightly making you arch your body against his. 

You feel yourself dripping down the sheets, whining helplessly as you become desperate with need.

You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock in order to relieve yourself some tension. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh fuck,” Carlos rasps, reaching down and grasping himself to line up between your lips. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock to your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him and back down. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads himself around your slit, where you’re still dripping for him.

You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You’re still so so wet. Carlos swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kisses you full of fervor, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his as you writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already.

“Are you ready, cariño? Let me know if I start to hurt you or if you want to stop.” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes.

You bite your lip and nod, too shy and excited to talk.

“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your swollen clit and your mind is all over the place.

“Please, Carlos,” you stutter, your body trembling even more. 

He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer fold sliding his cock teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine out of frustration.

You want to beg him to do something again as he leans down to line up his cock with your entrance, your legs trembling under him with a mix of nerves and excitement. Carlos slides in so slowly it’s agonizing. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break. 

You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big, stretching your walls. It feels as though your organs are moving around to give him space with how full you feel. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.

Once he’s fully inside you, you sigh against his lips. You feel so full, as if he’s made for you and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reaches up to your face.

“You okay?” He asks worriedly.

“Yeah, I just need a moment,” you mutter, breathless.

He smiles as your eyes are drifting close, both so full and exhausted at the same time.

You feel yourself gradually adjust to his size, your lower lip between your teeth as you open your eyes again to look up at Carlos’ beautiful sight above you.

“Please move,” you beg.

He nods quietly and starts by thrusting into you slowly, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds your hand tightly. The sting hurts you for a while, but it easily changes to pleasure as he moves against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he’s giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure. 

He grunts as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper sweet nothings as he sets a pace.

“So tight,” he groans.

The angle is so good, but when his pace picks up he finally leans down to wrap his arms around you, making you gasp as he thrust into you faster and harder, pinning you against the mattress and taking full control of your body. 

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Doing so so good for me. Eres tan perfecta.”

You whimper as his lips move back up against your own as he kisses you passionately.

At a certain point you feel the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point inside you that has you clenching like a vise around his cock. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, back arching as he keeps thrusting into you, the feeling of him repeatedly hitting your most sensitive spot causing a loud noise you’ve never made before escaping your lips, a strange cry of his name. 

“Fuck,” Carlos muttered against your ears, feeling your walls clenching around him, letting him know that you’re close. “You’re so loud for me, angel.” 

“God.” You’re lost in pleasure, tears streaming down your face as you desperately claw at his skin. Whatever pain you were feeling before is lost now as you all but float in a cloud of lust. 

“Hold it in, baby,” he demands, tongue licking your tears away as his hand pushes your hair out of your face, wanting to see you fully as you reach your high. 

“Please, Carlos,” you sobbed, squirming under him. “Need to…need to come please.”

His thrust doesn’t stop or falter, getting harder and harder as his hand grips your waist. There would surely be a bruise of his handprint there tomorrow but you’re far too gone to care. “Look at you so desperate to cum on my dick. Who’s making you feel this good, angel?”

“You!” You cry out, more than willing to pledge your life away to him at this point, the only thing that matters is your release. “Only you! Please, Carlos.” 

“That’s right. Only me. Sólo yo.” Carlos smirks at the sight of you under him, so completely defenseless. “Go on, baby.”

You didn’t need to be told twice as you spasm under him, losing control of your body. Your vision is hazy as you ride out your high, your body out of your control as your nails dug to his skin, teeth buried on his shoulder. You don’t think you’ve ever felt pleasure quite like this.

You feel his cum shoot inside your walls as his body slightly relaxes on yours. He’s barely broken a sweat, his stamina completely phenomenal, but he knows you’re spent and after tonight, you deserve a break, especially considering it’s your first time. And so with that, he gently pulled out of you, making sure not to put anymore pressure on your tired body as he dropped to the place next to you.

Despite your clear exhaustion though, there’s no hesitation in your movements as you turn to him, breathing shallow. Placing your seemingly heavy head on his chest, you throw your arms over his stomach. Carlos’ breath hitched. He had just fucked you, made you come three times and yet somehow the action of you so naturally cuddling to him had his heart racing. 

“You did so good,” he told you gently, arms more than welcoming, immediately wrapping around you. “Are you okay, niña bonita?”

“Yes,” you mumble, voice hoarse from all the screaming as you bury your face deeper into the crook of his neck. “Tired.”

“Sleep,” he told you softly, lips planting a kiss on the top of your sweaty hair as he pulled you closer towards him. 

You let out a hum, already drifting off to dreamland with your naked bodies pressed against each other, not an inch between the two of you as you tightly held on to each other. 

—

The next time you saw Carlos was the next day as you climbed into Ferrari’s private plane. Nearly the entire team is hungover, half asleep as they lugged their baggage, you along them but for an entirely different reason. 

As soon as you stepped into the plane, the Spaniard's eyes were on you and yours on him. You wore the jacket he lent you last night over a simple shirt and jeans, opting to wear something comfortable for the flight rather than something stylish. He, on the other hand, still looked breathtaking in a simple buttoned up shirt and jeans, hair tousled as he watched the way your cheeks turned red. 

Charles, far too tired and sleepy, barely noticed as you disappeared from his side as you all but made a beeline towards Carlos. 

“Good morning, angel,” he greets you, heart soaring at the obvious way you seeked him out, not even hesitating to leave the monegasque’s side in favor of his. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you admit, still with a nervous tone to your voice as you take the seat in front of him. “But worth it.”

As Carlos reached forward to lightly push your hair back, his touch now so familiar, you missed the way Charles searched for you upon noticing you’re no longer next to him. You also missed the look of pure jealousy in his eyes, one you’ve longed to see for as long as you can remember. But Carlos hadn’t and for the first time, Charles saw a version of his teammate he’s never seen or expected, one that’s very obviously staking his claim on you, eyes challenging Charles to fight back as you lean into Carlos’ touch. 

Carlos didn’t have to say it but Charles understood anyway.

Carlos is a patient man and he played the game so well, biding his time properly and it had all paid off so well, everything falling perfectly into place as the sight of you next to him became a common occurrence. You often wear his shirts after nights in his hotel room, meeting up with Charles for breakfast only to practically reek of Carlos’ cologne. He’s all over you even when he’s not around, his imprints on your skin, his scent all over you, reminding Charles that he’s lost a game he hadn’t realized he was playing. 

And when he is around, it’s not like Carlos is trying to hide it, an arm always around your waist or sometimes hands on your hips. This time though, it’s Charles that’s watching. He watches as the Spaniard touches you so easily as though he’s done it a thousand times before. He watches as you’re quick to relax against his chest, your soft easy smile painting your face and a certain glint in your eyes that Charles knows so well. 

Carlos, as Charles is beginning to realize, is a pretty fucking great liar. When they’re together with the team, talking cars and strategies or with the marketing team, doing challenges and interviews, it’s like nothing’s ever changed, both of them still so close. The only noticeable difference now is that you’re rarely on Charles’ side. Instead, you choose to always be by Carlos’, barely sparing your childhood best friend a glance as you stare at the Spaniard as though he hangs the stars and the moon. 

Eventually though, the unsaid stare off they often shared comes to a close. It had been during the spanish grand prix with Charles naively thinking he’s doing his teammate a good deed by knocking on his door before the marketing team comes and nags him about a video that needs shooting. Charles didn’t want them to be late and he didn’t want Carlos to have to stand for a lecture. 

But when he opens the door, not having bothered to knock, thinking it’s just another boring weekend before a race with Carlos on his phone like the thousand other weekends before that. 

Charles couldn’t be more wrong though because instead of the sight of Carlos engrossed in his phone, you're laying on his lap, the dress you wore bunched up around your waist and your eyes shut close as soft moans escaped your lips. Carlos has a hand holding you in place while another is busy assaulting your cunt, three fingers deep inside you, pumping in and out at such a brutal pace that has you biting your lower lip till you can taste blood, tears dripping down to your cheeks.

Charles is frozen in place, the sight of you so open, so perfectly spread for Carlos, caused him to swallow deeply. He can hear the filthy sound of Carlos’ fingers leaving your cunt only to unrelentingly push back in.You’re far too gone to even notice his presence, your fourth orgasm on Carlos’ fingers having completely drained your body as you keep taking more, but Carlos looks up at Charles, the pace of his fingers disappearing within the lips of your cunt never stopping as he raises an eyebrow.

The smirk pulling at his lips brings Charles back down to earth, forcing himself to look away from your naked body as he spun on his heel, shutting the door behind him. 

Charles can feel his heart racing, his pants suddenly much tighter than it had been minutes ago. The sound of your moans keeps repeating in his head, completely distracting him from the tasks at hand. 

After fixing his erection, Charles finds his way back to the hospitality, reuniting with his media aid as he tries to shake the sight of you whispering and messy on Carlos’ knees. 

“Where’s Carlos?” One of the Ferrari people asks him, but Charles only shrugs, not quite sure if he’s able to use his voice. 

A few minutes pass as the team waits for Carlos till the Spaniard finally emerges from his drivers room, hair messy and lips swollen. No one but Charles seems to notice though and the memory of you on his lap haunts Charles as he meets his teammate’s gaze, smug and proud as he runs his hand through his hair. 

Carlos claps Charles on the shoulder, mischief clear in his hazel eyes. “Finders keepers, right?”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16

[whrsmym1nd]

[REQUESTS OPEN]

happy birthday to @upsidedownwithsteve​!! this is a day late but we are gonna avoid that. enjoy some good ol’ danny ric smoot :) and we are gonna just pretend these are characters in drive to survive rather than real people💀ANYWAYS ENJOY!!

[6.7k] or, in which you and daniel have always hated each other. but maybe that’s just an excuse to avoid how you really feel about each other. (smut)

.

Daniel Ricciardo knew he was hot shit. 

He was young. He was successful. He was loving life and his life just so happened to be his dream. 

F1 Driver for Red Bull Racing. 

Daniel Ricciardo was one of those faces that everybody knew at the paddock. He was fun and playful and had a smile so wide, it was infectious. He was sunshine personified, the human embodiment of positivity and truly it was hard to not get along with the Aussie. 

Except when it came to you. 

And it drove Daniel mad. 

Keep reading

[whrsmym1nd]

fucked-up little thrill ☆ cl16

genre: pwp but also porn with plot (the best of both worlds!), humor, she truly is a maneater in disguiseee

word count: 8.3K

There’s a difference between warning and danger- you happen to be both. Though, Charles only sees the green light, go. Well, we can all imagine how this will already go.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+...oral (m and f receiving), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, riding, slight cry, unprotected sex

inspired by this and this !

“She’ll mess with your head, man. You’re going to wish she had never looked your way.” 

“I told my mom about her. Crap, I bought her an engagement ring after a few days of knowing her!”

“Four words: Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“Do you know how screwed in the head you have to be in order to willingly go after her? Fucking pathetic. Sure, I did the same, but hear me out-”

Despite the warnings, he didn’t pay them any attention. He thought he was going crazy for sure when he saw two guys on their knees, begging:  Run, just do it. And whatever you do, don’t look back.

Charles wasn’t even listening. 

-

The nights were beginning to get warmer, yet there was still a slight breeze. Spring was rolling in. What an innocent season to meet the wildest card Charles has ever dealt. 

“...then she laughed so hard that, Jesus Mary and Joseph, my heart went bananas! Y’know what I did next? I asked her, ‘You want a slice?’ I meant the tiramisu, guys! She thought I was talking about myself, t’was the most embarrassing thing! Made me look like a bloody narcissist,” Lando whined as he leaned onto the table to hide his face.

George snorted as he jokingly replied, “Ah don’t worry mate, I would gladly take a slice.” Lando groaned, further rubbing his forehead on the table. It began to squeak.

“Alright, calm down before you shed your skin off. It wasn’t that bad!” Alex voices, as he pops a curly  fry into his mouth. 

“Easy for you to say! You basically have the person you’re going to get married to! You’re safe,” Lando mumbles. He then lifts his head up and wipes a single tear. Everyone explodes into laughter.

“Muppet, c’mon we were kidding! Weren’t we just fooling around, Charles?” Carlos wiggles his eyebrows at the Monegasque. Charles rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yes, of course we were joking,” he starts. Lando looked up, seemingly feeling better as everyone began to agree, we were just playing around!

“Then again, how did you even fall for a girl like that?” Charles finishes his sentence. 

“Argh. You don’t get itttt,” Lando wails in defeat. “When you meet a girl like that, you don’t question it. You just thank God for sending her your way and then BAM! She just walks out of your life.”

Hm, Charles thinks to himself as he takes a sip of Martini, naive naive little Lando. 

-

Charles met you that same night he was out for dinner with the boys. He was waiting for his car from the valet, shooting Joris a quick text.

“Sorry,” he overhears a soft voice, but still, didn’t pay much attention.

“Sorry? You’re sorry? We both know goddamn well that you’re ‘sorry’ about nothing. Nada. Zeeerrrooo.” A man's voice angrily shouts back, voice slurring. 

Charles turns and sees a man running his hands through his blonde hair, walking back and forth in despair. Then, his eyes move to you.

Standing there in the tightest, shortest, black dress. So, the little black dress truly does exist. Glowy tan skin shining through from the lights decorating the outside of the restaurant. Your legs are miles long, feet paired with your nicest set of heels, Joli Queen Glitter. Red fucking bottoms. Christian Louboutin at its finest. Rich jewelry sits on your wrists, fingers, and neck. 

Even with all that in the way, all he noticed was just how drop-dead gorgeous you were. Suddenly, his fingers got clammy. What the hell? His jaw was clenched. Literally why? His pants were growing tight because oh God he was already har- Alright, now that’s just crazy, Charles. Get it together.

“Yes. Whether you believe me or not, I’m sorry. Maybe you just shouldn’t have set high expectations,” you spoke, slightly looking down. And would you look at that…the girl was grinning like the devil.

“Are you being fucking serious right now? You’re smiling? You think this is funny! Oh God, what the actual fuck is wrong with you, you crazyyyy bitch!” The man continues, sharply pointing his finger at you accusingly. He genuinely looks like he’s about to start crying for his mommy.

“Okay mate, I think that’s enough. Why don’t I call you a cab?” Charles speaks up from where he’s standing. You and the mysterious guy turn to look at him. 

You shoot a smile as the man's eye starts twitching.

“Oh great! Great, great, great,” the man chants. “What an idiotic thing to believe that you haven’t gotten rid of me already! How could I not see it coming!” He drops to his knees and starts rocking back and forth. “On my dead hamster's birthday!” Levi, Charles later finds out, cries out to the sky. “Couldn’t this have happened any other day?” Charles cringes.

“Call me that shitty ass cab, dude.”

So, you stand close by as Charles helps plop Levi inside with the help of the cab driver. They buckle him up and off they go. 

Not before Levi pokes his out the window and yells, “I swear I’m not bitter when I tell you to fucking save yourself!”

Both of you are left there standing quietly. You pout your red lips as you pull out your phone to call a cab for yourself. 

“Need a lift?”

-

Glancing around silently, you sneak a look at Charles. Handsome, you ponder, just a tiny bit. Big fat lie. You quickly scolded yourself for being so untruthful. This man was the most beautiful kind you’ve seen in your entire life. 

“Take it, that was your boyfriend back there?” he questions as he drives.

“Mmm. Hardly. No, he isn’t -wasn’t- my boyfriend by any means. Some guys just instantly assume stuff over any girl that pays them any attention,” you respond as you trace shapes on your thigh. You tug your dress down a bit. You lick your lips before saying, “Thanks for helping out me back there. It was really sweet.”

He notices you never look up from your lap as you’re speaking. It’s kind of endearing, just how soft you can be. “Ah don’t mention it…it was…no problem.”

He walks you from his car to your house, it’s pastel yellow with a mailbox that reads, No more love letters. Seriously. “Cute,” he says. You blush.

“Oh, that. Sorry, I live with my two best friends and they painted that as a joke,” you explain as you click your heel shyly. “They said it would help out with my, and I quote, ‘secret admirers.’” You let out a slight laugh as you finally build up the courage to look at the man standing right in front of you.

“To be honest, that makes sense,” he acknowledges, tilting his head a bit, he analyzes your eyes. “Beautiful girls should receive beautiful letters.”

Tongue tied, you stare back with a pleased smile. 

“This is so unlike me, but would you like to go out some time?”

Easiest question ever asked.

-

A few nights later, he finally decided would be the day he would take you out for dinner. Testing went well and the car was finally on the right track. He took this as a good omen.

“How long have you lived in Italy now?” you quiz, as you brought your Shirley Temple closer to yourself.

“Oh, um, for quite a while now. I mean it’s really only for work. I go home any chance I get,” he responds with a light laugh. 

“Sweet. Where are you from?”

“Monaco.”

Your eyes go wide with excitement. “Really! Monaco is so beautiful!” you brightly squeal. At this he smiles wide.

“Have you ever been?” You sadly shake your head no, hair bouncing back and forth as you do. Soft floral filling the air.

“Nope, but I wish to one day. I just know I’ll love it so much…” You trail off. “...It’s just that growing up my favorite movie was Monte Carlo. Would beg my mom to play it any chance I could,” you finish, maroon now coating your cheekbones. He tilted his head in slight confusion.

“Monte Carlo? You know, starring Selena Gomez?” His brows are furrowed. “...Leighton Meester? Katie Cassidy?” you desperately jumble your words, trying to assist. He continues shaking his head, never heard of it.

Your mood grows sulky and you pout. Leaning back, you finally take a sip of your drink. Oh, well now I want something stronger than this.

“I would love to watch it some time though!” Charles says as his voice cracks. He winces.

“Sure!” Though, you're not looking at him anymore. Your eyes are trained behind him. He’s about to turn around and ask if you’re fine, when you finally speak up. “I think I’ll go to the bar for another drink. Be right back!” He huffs out. 

You weren’t back for almost too long. Finally, deciding to go look for you he stands and takes long strides all around the dimly lit restaurant. When he finds you he sees you’re not alone. 

A man in an all black suit seems to be your new company. You giggle as he appears to slide some type of business card to you. Just as you're about to grab it Charles strolls over to you both.

“Is your drink finally ready?” he asks as he wraps a protective arm around your waist. You flinch. You hadn’t even seen him walk over to you guys.

“Charles!” you shriek, as you crumble the piece of paper into the palm of your hard, hurriedly. You pray that he hadn’t noticed that, but he did. Something inside of him told him not to ask. “I was actually on my way back. Did you need anything? A drink?” you ask, furrowing your brows attentively. 

“No, thank you, amour,” Charles warmly replies, looking into your dazzling eyes. You truly were the best thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“My apologies for getting in the way,” the man extends his hand out to Charles. “Aiden Quinn, pleasure to meet you.”

Charles may be upset that Aiden ruined your date, but he wasn’t keen on being rude, so begrudgingly, he shook his hand. “Charles Leclerc.” See, now normally, Charles isn’t the type to throw his name out like that expectantly, but he felt as if he had a point to make. He did, though. I was here first. 

The man grins ear to ear, nodding. “Yes, see now that’s where I know you from. I knew you looked familiar. Formula 1 driver, right? Scuderia Ferrari?” he points with a knowing smile. 

“Scuderia’s number one driver, yes.” His grip around your waist stays secure. Meanwhile, your eyes are open to their fullest. Surprising, you had no idea. 

“Certainly. I’m one of the team's ambassadors, actually,” Aiden challenges. Charles clenches his jaw. “When you have million dollar businesses all around the world, you try to find a place to help. Ferrari really needs it at the moment.” You’re equally as shocked with Aiden as you are with Charles.

“Well then, I’ll make sure to dedicate my next podium to you I suppose,” Charles shoots back fiercely. You shift uncomfortably. This reminds him you’re there. With him. Ha! Take that, Quinn! “Anyhow, I would love to chit chat with fellow fans, but I must say we have to get going.” He holds your hand firmly as he leads you out.

“Goodbye, Aiden!” you beam as you depart ways. 

“Formula 1 driver now, is it?” you curiously ask as you look over, where he has one hand over the wheel and running the other calmly through his hair. 

“Thought you knew.”

“I had no clue! Zip!” you shriek as fling your arms through the air. He laughs as he pulls into an abandoned parking lot. 

“In the mood for something sweet?”

“Grazie mille,” the Monegasque says as he is handed the cones of freshly made gelato. Glowing, he makes his way to you. He hands you per requested raspberry, as he keeps his lemon one. 

“Molto gentile.” You inspect and nod your head in approval. Just hearing your tongue curl in Italian has him swooning. You take a lick and release a soft moan. “So sweet. Best I’ve ever had,” you declare as you continue enjoying your treat innocently.

Charles gulps, trying to cool down. He starts enjoying his own before agreeing, “I told you it was the best.” He shoots a wink over to Luca, the owner, for keeping the shop open for a few more minutes. 

“You scared me a bit back there,” you spoke up as you continued eating your gelato. 

“Pfft. With that Aiden guy…I’m sorry about that–”

“God no. Honestly, I completely forgot about that,” you mutter. “I meant with that whole, ‘in the mood for something sweet’. Thought you were like the rest.”

The 25 year old keeps quiet for a minute. He gathers his thoughts before settling with, “I promise I’m not.”

“Keeping my fingers crossed you aren’t.” You look around with twinkling eyes. “You know, a date I once had asked me-”

“You want a slice?”

No.

“It shocked me how straight forward he was. It wasn’t even our second date! I barely even knew the guy.” You frown at the memory. “Then he blamed it on the tiramisu.”

“I meant the tiramisu, guys!”

God no. 

“Never saw him again,” you finish as you finally focus back on him. A pale Charles is all you find.

“Woah, are you okay?” 

“Yes! I’m so good! You look lovely! Did I mention it already cause if I didn’t then call me the worst date ever!” He begins nervously laughing. His gelato has started dripping all over his arm.

“I think you did,” you smile as you hand him a few napkins. He returns the smile, thankful. “And don’t worry about it, leave that spot for Lando. Now he might take the crown.”

Charles let out a groan.

-

Charles went back and forth deciding whether he should reach out to you. He liked you. A lot. Nonetheless, he was hesitating because he just couldn’t do something like that to Lando. The Brit was as bummed out as one could get. So, it's settled. Bye bye baby.

-

“Of course. Tonight at 8,” your voice confirms on the other side of the line. Charles celebrates with a quick dance.

“See you then.”

He decides today that he wants to switch things up and do something different. Something that would make him stand out from anyone that came before him. 

“Monaco?” Leaning on the hood of Charles' car, you feel you have to be dreaming. He nods his head lively.

“I could show you around, y’know be your personal tour guide,” he beams.

“You should have warned me! I don’t have anything ready!” you yelp as you hold your hands over your heart, frantically. He would be more worried if it weren’t for you smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“We still have time. Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

When you make it to Monaco you’re greeted by a young guy wearing glasses. He’s driving a Ferrari Pista. Charles and him fit in a quick embrace before they turn their attention back to you.

“Ah yes, this is Joris. He’s one of my closest friends,” Charles states as you warmly reach for a handshake. 

Reciprocating, Joris says, “Very nice to meet you.” You smile, returning the greeting. “Must say, you are just as beautiful as Cha had mentioned, if not more.” You blush as Charles clears his throat awkwardly.

“D'accord, mec. Pas besoin de le dire au monde entier,” Charles mutters. “Thank you for picking us up.” Joris nods, carrying your luggages. You share a quick goodbye before he finally makes his way to another car. “That’s also one of my very good friends, Marta.” You smile and wave as they drive off. 

Monaco definitely met your expectations. Everything just captivated your attention so much so that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started to drool. 

“Holy shit. Your home is absolutely stunning!” you gasp. He wheels your bags in as he exhales.

“Merci. Make yourself at home.”

Thankfully, the flight was quick so you both have plenty of energy to go out for a late night snack. He takes you to his, Favorite place in the world! You’ll see.

A little stand sits in the corner of the street. 

“Lou makes one of the best crepes around. Trust me, I’ve been a loyal customer since my school days,” he promises as you make your way over.

A little old lady is attending to customers, but stops as soon as she sees Charles. “Charlie! Chérie, je ne savais pas que tu étais de retour!” She makes her way around to hug him.

“Des projets de dernière minute, mais j'ai juste envie de manger une de tes incroyables crêpes,” he replies, as they pull away.

“And who is this pretty girl?” she questions as she looks at you, standing there patiently.

“Oop, hello. I’m a friend of Charles,” you respond. Lou smiles teasingly.

“Charlie, tu es là pour me dire que tu vas te marier?” Lou suddenly looks over the moon.

“Non!” he quickly shouts, so suddenly, you and Lou both jump a bit. Tight lipped he apologizes.

“Like she said, we’re just friends.”

“These are amazing,” you swoon. You turn to where Lou is making more for a few other customers, “Amazing!” Lou blushes.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Charles says.

Staring up to the sky you both sit in complete silence. Charles likes to think that in that moment he truly had you. Things were looking up and running smoothly, he just knew it. “We should get going soon. Want you to rest up before tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” you interrogate, bumping his shoulder to get a little inside scoop.

“You are just going to have to wait and see, mademoiselle.”

-

The next morning after breakfast he recommends you bring something you can swim with. Skipping your way to his room, which he is kindly sacrificing for you, you roam through your luggage until you find a baby blue bikini. 

“You don’t get sea sick by any means, right?” He looks over at you with scrunched brows underneath a pair of glossy black Ray Bans. You shake your head no.

“Great.”

You make your way to a tiny boat before he helps you settle in. You grab his hand softly as you step into it. A single touch of electricity seems to link your fingertips. It catches you both so off guard that he lets go of you so swiftly, you don’t even notice as you plunge into the water.

You let out a quick yelp before you go underwater and his hands fly to his head in embarrassment. You resurface with wet hair covering your face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” he apologizes before extending his arm out for you to grab. Pushing your hair out of your face, you giggle. 

“It’s okay, I got it.”

Once you independently get on the boat he unties the rope off the deck and takes a seat himself  to drive you guys to the unknown destination.

“Pretty please, can I know now where we’re going?” you push, with puppy eyes. 

Lord help me, he thinks before replying, “We’re going to a little island I love. Îles de Lérins.” You look ahead, nodding in understandment. “It’s beautiful, you’ll see.”

When you guys arrive it’s easy to understand that there doesn’t seem to be that many people. You basically have the place to yourselves.

He helps you off, not dropping you this time. There’s a small trail you both begin to take. It’s something peaceful, the moment you’re in. You almost wish to fit this moment into a snowglobe. 

“My parents would always bring my brothers and I here all the time during summer when we were younger,” Charles confesses.

“You have brothers?” 

He turns to look at you, then continues ahead, “Yes. Two.” He kicks a rock out of his way, but something you didn’t know was just how clumsy this man child could get.

“Ouch!” you yell in pain as your hand flies to your nose.

“Jesus! What’s wrong with me today! Are you okay? I’m so sorry!” He runs to you all panicky now.

You take it back. Break the goddamn snowglobe.

You tilt your head back to ease the blood pouring out your nose. He holds your face to gain your attention. You scrunch your eyes, sun suddenly blinding you. He takes off his glasses and places them over your eyes. As you open them you notice he’s shirtless. He places his shirt on your nose to clean you up. You flinch a bit.

Instantly, you’re thankful for the sunglasses because wondering eyes were all you could give him. His lean muscles were just begging to be praised. 

You shake your head before taking the Puma shirt from him. “Thanks,” you mutter as you stare at a nearby tree. “Starting to think you might hate me or something,” you joke.

“Of course not! I could never hate you!” His voice cracks in nervousness. You snicker.

After a bit more wiping, you are as good as new. You both decide to take a dip while the water feels good. You strip from your Levi shorts and t-shirt. Dipping a toe to test the temperature, you shoot him two thumbs up. 

The ocean feels so fresh and silky against your skin. You can’t seem to remember the last time you’ve enjoyed someone’s company like this, even if they almost ruled you to the ends of Earth. Two fingers press against your neck. You spring one eye open and you see Charles biting down on his thumb. He relaxes.

“Sorry, I thought you’d crossed the line to the afterlife.”

You tread water to stretch your legs out, “I’m fine.”

He takes this time to note things he hadn’t paid attention to before. Like how your lashes fan your face more so since they’re wet. Or how a tiny bit of freckles are sprinkled on your nose. He curses himself for not having seen it any sooner. Pretty was an understatement. You were extraordinary. 

A few hours later you guys are back at his house sharing a pizza. Pepperoni, you both loved the classic.

“There’s no bruise,” he points out almost proudly. You shoot a playful scowl. He walks over to the T.V. and clicks the remote, “Monte Carlo?”

He loved it, the way you said he would. He especially enjoyed watching how much you loved it. 

“This movie was too ahead of its time,” you confirm as you dig your feet under the blanket you had curled into. 

“Well at least Grace and Theo got their happily ever after,” he pronounces. You shoot an impressed look.

“What? I was listening, y'know.” You crawl up to him and pat his cheek. His dimples pop out from how hard he’s smiling. 

He can’t help it the moment he reaches to cradle your face to press your lips together. He can’t help but let a moan slip out when you finally kiss him back. 

He picks you up to adjust you on his lap, which you comfortably settle into. You feel him underneath you so clearly you can’t help but move your hips. He feels so good.

The heated moment continues as he wraps his hands around the curve of your ass. You pull away as your lips move down to his neck. He almost gasps the moment you lick down his throat. It doesn’t help that you’ve been keeping your hips in motion. 

He almost passes out the moment your lips move to his ear and ask, no, beg, “Let me taste you, please.” How could he ever say no to you?

You make your way down to your knees as he adjusts himself on the coach. He thinks to himself that if he were standing he would’ve made a fool out of himself because just the sight of you in front of him has him choking on his own breath. You just look so pretty.

You tug his shorts down, along with his boxers, and bite down on your lip as you grab his cock, softly. He has to stop himself from jerking into your hand. Precum sprouting from his tip. You can’t wait as you take kitten licks. He lets out a deep “fuckkk”. The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your thighs together.

Wrapping your lips around him, your hands reach to balance yourself against his thighs. You moan at the feeling of having him inside your mouth. You drool all over him.

This itself is too much for Charles and thinks he’ll barely even be able to survive as his head turns against the coach pillow with closed lids. You start bobbing your head and one hand flings down to jerk off what you can’t reach. He groans at the feeling. 

You start off slow but suddenly start picking up your pace. He opens his eyes all dazed to catch a glimpse of you on your knees and this sight is something he won’t be able to forget even if he tried. With glassy eyes you look up at him. You make a show of releasing your lips from his cock as you lap your tongue all along it. Before going back at it, you twirl your tongue a couple of times around his tip before giving it a quick suck, then you deepthroat him. 

He grits his teeth as if to help deal with any of this but when you start toying with yourself he lets out the loudest whine he’s ever produced. You look up smiling. You grazed your teeth lightly along him and he hisses at the feeling. Proudly, you fit him back into your mouth. 

“God, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he manages to get out before you solely start jerking him off.

“What about my hands?” you seductively tease. The sounds coming from both your hands and his cock should be considered a sin itself. He groans as he looks back to make eye contact with you.

“Your hands too, baby.”

He knows he’s close the moment you twist your wrist perfectly. So so good. You know he’s close when he begins to twitch underneath your fingertips. 

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” he chants as you continue your dirty movements. He makes sure to look at you, so focused, eyes drawn to his cock.

“Cum for me, Charles,” you coo as he finally bucks his hips into your hands and hot cum shoots all over your face. You wickedly smile as your lips reach his cock to continue swallowing the rest that is being released. He grabs you face to pull you off him and pulls you once again to his lap. He’s about to kiss you before you pull away and point at the mess of your face. 

You wipe two fingers along your face and bring them to your mouth to clean them off. A pop is released when you let go. He shudders. 

This is the moment, ladies and gentlemen, Charles realized, he’s so screwed.

-

When you make it back to Italy you realize that all you’ll have are a few fleeting moments together. With Charles going back to racing and you continuing your online classes, you’re both bound to be booked.

Though, Charles just isn’t ready to let you go. And a fucked up man will make fucked up choices when due.

So, he takes you along with him to the Miami GP. He realizes there’s a strong chance you might bump shoulders with Lando, but to be completely honest, he was too far past caring. He was completely smitten with you.

-

You wear your white summer dress as you are sprawled on his hotel bed. You’re a mess.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whisper as Charles fingers slip in and out of you. He’s feverishly kissing down the side of your thighs, bites left in between. You groan in slight pain as you tug on his soft hair. You stare up at the ceiling and swear you’re seeing stars. This man has brought out the moon and stars, for you.

“C’mon baby, look at me,” he whispers as he paints you with hickeys in between your legs. Somewhere no one else will ever be able to catch a glimpse of. You nod your head as you look down to find him gripping your dress over your thighs, eating you out like a starved man. You shut your eyes as you release a few soft pants, the heels of your feet press deeper against his Ferrari polo.

“Open you’re fucking eyes right now.”

You shake your head no. You wish you could look at him, you really wanted to, but it’s just too much take in. You wanted to make this last.

But Charles was greedy. He wanted to taste you. He stops everything all at once. You let out a cry, fuck him.

You bring your arms around his neck, loosely, as he kisses your shoulder. “Why’d you stop?” you ask with sleepy eyes.

“You weren’t looking at me.”

With all your strength you open your glittered eyelids. 

“That’s a good girl,” he coos as he picks you up and sits you at the edge of the bed. You look down at him confused as he gets on his knees in front of you.

“If you can’t look at me, then you’re going to have to look at yourself,” he directs as he begins to push your dress back up your waist. You lean against your elbows as you realize what other than Charles is in front of you.

A shiny glass mirror stares back.

With a slightly open mouth you’re about to protest before Charles picks up right where he left off. He spits on your clit before rubbing it. You bite down on your bottom lip so hard you draw blood. 

“Don’t tell me I have to get you to moan now?” Charles stares at you with furrowed brows. You shake your head no before he kisses your knee. “Good.”

He makes sure you look straight at your reflection before he curls his fingers inside of you. You mewl at the touch. Your legs beg to bring him closer.

He lets out a light chuckle before repeating his motion. You stare at the way your legs rest against his shoulders. You had painted your nails bloody mary a few nights before, in support of him and his team. You look at your face all fucked up singly by Charles’ long fingers and delicate touch, your red lipstick was all over your mouth from how heavy your makeout with Charles had been.

To him, you looked like an angel. 

You squeal as he presses his nose against your pussy. Your sense of direction doesn’t seem to be yourself anymore. You grind against his face sinfully.

He pulls away and you whine, looking at him desperately, how could he be so cruel to you?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he reassures you as he moves up to kiss your cheek and then your pouty lips. 

“Cha, please,” you beg hopelessly, “You’re being mean.” He grins as he pushes your hair out of your face and runs his thumb across your lips trying to clean you up a bit.

You take a chance and wrap your lips around his finger, and you begin to suck. Expertly, you swirl your tongue. Eyes look back at him, almost challenging. He lets out a dirty groan.

With all the willpower he has left he removes his finger from your mouth. Nicely wet, he presses it back where you need him the most.

“Thank you, baby, you shouldn’t have,” he says. You moan at the sudden size of his thumb now being inside of you. He holds your face with one hand and you try to make a move to meet his lips. He pulls away but with the way you look at him is enough for him to give in. 

He switches out his thumb for his middle and ring finger. You throw your head back. All the back and forth almost has you blacking out a few times. Charles gives you a quick peck, fingers building speed, as he pulls your dress down a bit to release your plump tits.

Now he’s at a loss for words. Quickly, he regains his composure and starts sucking on your left nipple. Your legs squeeze around his waist as a reflex. One hand flies to the back of his head as one makes its way to cup his cheek adoringly.

He moans against you, sucking hard before moving his attention to your right nipple. The way you’re crying out against him has him painfully hard against his jeans.

“Yes, God yes right there, Charlie,” you let out as you grind against his hand. He detaches his lips from your chest as he smiles up at you. 

“I’m right here, baby. Cum for me, yeah?” You let out the most pornographic moan as you finish around his hand. Tears make their way down your cheeks. Charles cleans his fingers, shutting his eyes satisfied, before he towers over your body, pressing kisses all over.

You giggle. “That tickles,” you screech. The 25 year old’s heart doubles in size at the sound of your fucked out voice. 

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up before the race?”

-

The race wasn’t the best results Charles has had, that’s for sure. Head hung, he makes his way to his motorhome. There he finds you on the tiny little bed, curled up, watching the rest of the ongoing interviews. As soon as you notice him you jump up to your feet and walk to him.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. He instantly feels better as his arms swaddle over your shoulders, chin atop your pretty hair.

“You did good,” you mumble against his chest. You press a faint kiss on his suit before you look up at him.

“I fucked up. I got P7,” he shrinks. 

You frown at him before holding his face between your soft palms. “P7 is good, what do you mean?” you push. He just shakes his head a bit. “You’ve never heard of seven being a lucky number?”

He scoffs, but not at you, never you. More for himself. “Lucky?”

You pull away and sit back on his bed. “Oh yeah, seven bring all the luck in the world!” you squeal, as you plop on the bed. He laughs lightly as he lies beside you.

“Guess I’ll just take your word for it,” he hums with his eyes closed.

You turn on your side as you try to memorize his face. Like the small mole that sits on the left side of his face that makes him even more handsome, if anyone asks for your opinion. You scold yourself for not having noticed it before. As if to fix things, you name it one of your favorite things about him.

“You should. Things will get better, you’ll see.”

For once, he really believes it.

-

You both are walking out of the Ferrari home as both are suddenly stopped by someone calling Charles’ name. 

“Hey, Charles! Great race man!” a familiar voice flies through the air before you both have a chance to turn around. Both you and Charles, unknowingly of one another, want to make a run for it.

“Thanks, Lando,” Charles replies as he prays he might not notice you. But a girl as beautiful as you can’t go forgotten.

“Holy shit it’s you!” Lando wails as he instantly recognizes you from dinner a few months ago. You cringe. What the fuck are the chances?

“Hi,” you squeak as you hide behind Charles a bit. You had no idea Lando was a Formula 1 driver too. You ought to do your research better next time.

“Mate! This is the chick I was telling you about over dinner last time!” Lando says, eyes almost popping out of his face from the shock he’s in.

“You don’t sayyyy,” Charles tries to hide it, though inside he’s freaking out as if he’s broken every FIA rule in the book.

“Hey, I want to say sorry for that night, I should have been more clear,” Lando begins to spill his apologies, as all you can do is silently stand there, accepting them all.

“Of course! Long forgotten!” you comfort the Brit. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy. 

“Charles, I’ll wait for you outside, alright?” you utter as he nods. Once you walk out, he turns to Lando frantically.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was the same girl you were upset about!” he tells him. Liar. “You must be mad at me and I get it-”

“Nope.”

Charles looks back, caught a little off guard by Lando’s response. 

“You’re not?” 

Lando rolls his eyes. “I’m not. I just hope you realize what she’s capable of,” he leans closer to whisper something into Charles’ ear and Charles leans in too, expectantly, “I’ve heard stories, man…”

Charles immediately pulls away. “Okay, we’re done here. Bye mate!”

With his back facing him, Lando yells, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

But Charles knew you better. He saw the way you looked at him. The way you felt. You were different. Fuck your following reputation.

“Ready?” 

-

When you got back from Miami, something had shifted. He couldn’t quite name the moment it had, but he was sure of it. He didn’t care though. He would put up with just about anything as long as that meant having you around.

“And then he told me to test the car again, said it was fixed. Fixed my ass!” Charles tells you over FaceTime. You were sitting in your bedroom, painting nonsense on a canvas. You wore some old overalls with loose space buns. Strands of hair would hit the paint from how messy it was.

“No way,” you say, not looking up. Charles smiles fondly.

“You look lovely by the way.” Though, you don’t seem to catch his affirmation for you. Your eyes are focused on something out of frame, in front of you. A quick smirk appears on your face but slips so fast that he almost begins to think he’s imagined it.

“Thank you, Charles,” you reply with a much bigger smile now. “Hey, how about I meet you at your house at 9? I’ll cook you a nice meal, promise.”

Like always, he knows he shouldn’t ask and he knows he can’t say no to you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

That night when you step into his house he notices things he wishes weren’t there. Like how your hair was a tad bit messy or how there were light bruises on your neck. He knows those didn’t come from him. He’d always been mindful to mark you in places no one else could admire, just him. Something bugs him knowing someone has seen them already.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you rush in with bags from the nearby market, the one just around the corner from his flat.

“No worries. So, what will we be cooking, my little chef?”

That night you seem so infatuated by him, he truly thinks this all was his imagination. Maybe the wind blew your hair on your way here; he should have offered to pick you up. Maybe he forgot he had also marked your neck; he’ll make sure to be more careful next time.

He wraps his arms around your waist as you cut pieces of basil. Giggling, you turn around to peck his lips. Craving more of you, he lifts you up onto the kitchen island. He stands in between your legs as you stare up at him, ever a vixen.

You can’t stand it anymore, you have to kiss his pink lips. As you lock lips, he picks you up, you yelp all giddy. He makes his way over to his bedroom, your lips lingering on his neck, he almost drops you from how good it feels.

“Careful, don’t need another wack in the face,” you mumble from his neck, light spirited. He rolls his eyes at your comment, but yeah, he should probably focus. 

Finally reaching his room, he kicks the door open so hard, it flies and instantly makes a hole through the wall. You gasp as he groans.

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” he says as he takes you to his bed where he drops you. You giggle as your hair covers your face, he makes his way to hover over you and brush it away.

“You know I would do anything for you?” he asks, tenderness lacing his voice.

You stare back at him with bright and eager eyes, “Yeah. I know.”

He smiles as he leans down to kiss you and you instantly melt into the mattress beneath you. He kisses you so fast, so hot, that it has you feeling lightheaded. I’ve been kissed before but never, ever, like this, you think as he slips his tongue as a quick trick. You moan in pleasure. He smiles into the kiss. 

He picks his head up to get a good look at the angel the universe had ever so nicely sent his way. He caresses you gingerly before saying, “Are you sure, chérie?”

You nod up and down eagerly, ready for more he’s willing to give. You are so desperate you would gladly take anything as long as it's from him. A flash of sadness strikes your face before it’s replaced with a warm smile. 

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he comforts you as he begins to take a step back. You quickly hold onto his veiny arm. 

“I want to,” you confirm. You bring him back to you as you kiss him for the millionth time that night. Even that would never be enough. 

His hands make their way to slip your dress off. Once you're left in your matching lingerie you push him on his back and straddle him.

“Holy shit,” he nervously laughed as you started to unbutton his linen shirt. He pulls his arm out as you sloppily brush your lips down his smooth chest, fingers tracing his firm abs. Then, as you’re about to pull his pants down, he grabs your hands firmly. You glance at him, confusion written all over your face.

“Ladies first,” he teases. You roll your eyes, but still slip out a quick, okay, before settling under him once again. He kisses down your neck gently as you hum out, finding peace with his lips hovering your body. Every new kiss he places on your soft skin makes you feel thousands of butterflies. You’d never experienced something like this before, you’ve never felt so flawless. 

Clumsy fingers roam your back as he unclips your bra then strips you from your panties. Seeing you completely bare has his dumbstruck. This is something he could easily get used to. 

His hands make their way to squeeze your tits, your head digs deeper into the mattress as you release a soft whimper. Charles grows harder by the second. He gets rid of the rest of his clothes as quickly as he can.

He tugs you closer to him by your tan legs. A laugh rolls past your lips. Resting, both arms by either side of your head, he pushes into you. Synchronously, you both let out a moan. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he grips onto the sheets. 

You feel so tight around him that it takes all of him not to lose control. You throw your arm over your face, face scrunched.

Putting his feelings aside, Charles leans down and plants a kiss on your arm, “C’mon baby, not again. Look at me.”

“I can’t…,” you cry out weakly, “...too big.”

“You can handle it,” he reassures you as he begins to move in and out of you. Your arms fly up to his neck and you grab on tight, as if he’s keeping you ashore.You moan loudly.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, as he thrust deep inside of you. Your velvet walls feel like home to him and he never wants to leave. 

You squirm when his cock hits your sweet spot. You yell into the nothingness and your grip on his hair tightens so much, he groans at the sensation. His hips pick up speed, and suddenly, he’s kissing you again. You whine into his lips, needy for more. Harder. 

As if he could read your mind, that's exactly what he does. Your lips form a silent O as you stare at him with eyebrows drawn together. He just feel so fucking good.

“Fuckkk babyyy,” he groans, voice deep. You shiver at the sound of his husky voice. “God, you feel so good, you’re doing so good,” he praises you as he now looks into your eyes. You wail in response, too fucked up to form any kind of sentence.

“I love you so much,” he announces so suddenly, you almost push him away. He keeps moving rapidly as he makes out with you eagerly.

As you kiss him back you realize something scary; you love Charles Leclerc. You think you’ve loved him for a while now, but having never been in love, you didn’t seem to notice the feeling. But you do now.

“I love you, too,” you murmur against his lips. When he pulls away you notice you’ve never seen him smile so big. You like being the reason behind it.

He immediately pounds into you harder, not holding back anymore and you’re both a mess. You moan so loud, you’re almost embarrassed but Charles seems to love it.

“If you love me,” he pants, “then tell me his name.”

He continues normally, but you swear you feel your heart stop. There’s no way.

“What are you talking about?” you manage to spit out, but the way he’s handling your body has you seeing stars.

“Please,” a desperate look flashes across his face, “just tell me his name.” His watch covered hand makes its way to your clit and he pushes his finger against it. God, his fingers are so-

“There’s no one.” Liar. “There’s just you.”

With that, you flip him over so now you’re on top of him. Hastily, you start to ride him, making sure to move your hips just the way he likes it. His head falls back against the bed frame as his fingers dig into your hips. You bite your swollen lips in slight pain, but also, just by looking at his current state.

Cheeks slightly pink with sweaty hair covering his face. Long disheveled hair that you pressed him not to trim quite yet. What a sight for sore eyes.

“Please,” he chokes out, “just tell me his name and I swear I’ll never bring it up again.” He opens his eyes to look up at you. His voice hitches when he sees you hopping on his dick, tits bouncing up and down. You throw your head back and circle your hips much harder.

“Fuck,” Charles gasps as he reaches up to attach his lips to your chest. He licks before softly biting down against your bud. You exhale sharply. He then lays back and holds onto your hips harder before helping you move on top of him. Wrapped around him, the motion between both of you picks up so fast you start shaking your head no.

“Yes, amour, say it. Please just tell me before I lose my fucking mind,” he grunts as he stares down at your juices as they make the filthiest sound against his own. 

“I swear Charles, I promise, that I have never loved anyone the way I do you,” you confess as you sink your nails against his chest, red marks instantly mapping themselves down.

“Beautiful fucking liar,” Charles smirks as he moves his fingers against your clit rapidly. With that your walls clench around him as you cum so hard around him he can’t help but follow. You moan loudly as you fall against his chest as he groans lowly. 

Trying to even your breathing, you grab onto his hand. Instantly, he brings it up against his lips. Just the touch of his makes you want to ride him until you can’t no more. 

You meant what you said that night. Though you both should have known better. Being naive can’t always last forever.

-

“Then she left a note saying it’s best we just remain friends,” Charles reveals a few nights later over dinner. Everyone shares glances of empathy to the distraught Monegasque. Even Lando.

“It’s alright man, you’ll be over her before you know it,” Lando states as he shares a knowing smile. Charles bites down on his tongue knowing all this pent of anger wasn’t towards Lando. Not even for you. 

He would like to say that he learned his lesson and that he should have listened to everyone, all the warning signs that glowed above his head. But he knows damn well he would do it all over again if given the chance. He would say, do anything, to change your mind. To make you stay, but people like you never settled. 

Moping, Charles changes the topic as he begins asking how everyone’s break was. He didn’t really care, but he tried to pretend. 

Out of breath, Oscar rushes over to the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he sits down in between Lando and Charles.

“No worries, mate, Charles was just filling us in on his expired love life,” Daniel fills in, nonchalantly. Charles immediately shoots a dry frown. Daniel shares an apologetic shrug.

“Oh. That sucks man,” the young Australian replies as he gulps down some water. “Speaking of love lives, you guys won’t believe it! I just met the prettiest girl of my entire life just now outside of the restaurant!”