#also my only experience with tinder
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what the hell i truly dont remember feeling this upbeat about everything in a long time. like sure im stressed as shit and dont allow myself to feel anything ever but every morning i wake up smiling and i put in conscious effort to eat well and i wanna talk to people and i want to go on walks and explore and i wanna read and everything. community will save us all
#đď¸#i cant believe its not even been 2 whole weeks (tomorrow is our 2 week anniversaryâ¤ď¸) and my life feels so much better#and i dont even remember how my life looked like without him in it. where like. its been only 2 weeks.#sometimes you truly do meet your soulmates on tinder i guess............................#also the fact that i have a crush on him definitely adds to the whole experience. but im just glad i have a friend again :)
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NICK FROM THE APPRENTICE !!!! oh my god
london hinge is a wild thing lmao
#ask#anon#personal#watching this season of the apprentice with my mum is a very stressful experience for me#the thing is#i would've probably slept with him for the bit#but he was so like rude and every time i tried to make conversation he just brought it back to sex#and like i was only on there for hookups but ive also got to like you and we've got to be able to have conversations yknow#also weirdly not the only apprentice candidate ive seen on a dating app#i also saw lottie lion on tinder before she'd publicly come out so its getting kind of weird now
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What are the chances?
Sneak peek: Aaron and you match on Tinder and have been messaging back and forth over the summerâŚwhoâd have thought that meet the teacher night would bring him face to face with the woman heâs been sexting.
Aaron Hotchner x Teacher! Reader
Smut/Fluff
Word count: 5335
I have been writing this for weeks and Iâm not sure about it â feedback is welcomed (as long as its constructive) Also I am using personal knowledge of teaching (as I work in a school) if it doesn't match your personal experiences I am sorry. Not edited - please be kind.
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, language, sexting, tinder, online dating, explicit description of sexual activity, age gap (legal - Aaron is 45 Reader is 26), unsolicited sexual messages via dm, mentions of Jack, New Girl reference, mentions of school, teaching, insecurities, mentions of cheating, let me know if I missed anything!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
Your phone buzzing pulled your attention away from the book youâd been reading. The notification illuminating your screen was one that filled you with dread.
You had joined Tinder at the suggestion of your colleague, she claimed that after your last relationship plus the significant amount of time youâve been single equated to you needing to join the dating app.
This on its own wasnât what was tying your stomach in knots, that was the fact that since youâd downloaded the god forsaken app youâd received a disturbing amount of unsolicited dick pics. Tonight, however, would bring a positive change. You had swiped right on a particularly handsome man a few days ago and had been silently hoping to match with him ever since. You had honestly given up hope until now.
Swiping over on the notification to launch the app would allow you to remind yourself of how handsome this guy actually was.
âAlright Aaron letâs take another look at this profileâ you mumbled to yourself as you slid further down the couch.
Scrolling through his pictures you couldnât help but smile. He only had three, but they were good. The first picture was a close up of him in a suit, he wore a subtle smile and his eyes looked so inviting. The second picture was him in a black T-shirt he looked as though heâd been laughing or maybe talking, a big grin on his face. The third photoâŚthis one left your mouth dry. Heâd clearly been on a golf course, the photo taken without his knowledge, but his armsâŚthe way they were flexed and the veins that bulged in his forearms and hands. God the thoughts you had about what he could do with those hands.
You shook your head, trying to rid your mind of the vulgar thoughts you were having about this perfect stranger. He was hot, you couldnât deny it, but his bio drew you in even further, it was to the point but definitely had you wanting to know more.
Iâm a single dad and a workaholic. I love the Beatles. Looking for something real.
It felt like someone may have guided him through it, but you could tell the sentiment was genuine. He was a single dad and you loved that he wasnât hiding that. It wasnât something that would deter you from getting to know him either. You loved kids, thatâs why youâd become a teacher.
You had mentioned that in your bio, it was short and sweet and exactly you.
Iâm a 3rd grade teacher, I love music and reading, and yes, âI have touched glitter in the last 24 hours!â.
Youâd thought about messaging him right away but ultimately decided against it. Not wanting to seem too eager, youâd give it some time and who knows, maybe heâd even message you first.
It had been an entire week since youâd swiped right and now he was finally messaging you. Heâd kept it pretty simple, but it was late and given the previous messages youâd received at this hour, you were feeling pretty weary about opening his message.
A: Hello, I wanted to message you sooner, but I wasnât sure how to start this conversation.
Y: Hi đ and no worries I get it. Online dating doesnât exactly have the same effect as an in-person conversation.
A: Precisely. How are you?
Y: Iâm doing good, tired. You?
A: Iâm good, thank you.
A: Iâm so sorry, I travel for work and am currently on the west coast, I didnât even factor in the time difference.
Y: Donât apologize! Iâm the one who is awake at this ungodly hour. I should probably head to sleep though.
A: Yes, get some rest. Could I message you tomorrow and try this again?
Y: Absolutely, Iâm looking forward to it! Goodnight Aaron!
A: Goodnight.
You woke up feeling pretty good, it was nice to not have to wake up at 6:00 am every morning. Once of the perks of being a teacher was the breaks. You were, however, thankful to be at a school that allowed a twelve-month contract which meant your paychecks continued through the summer. You had also made some extra cash by creating and selling assignments through teachers-pay-teachers (TPT) and by holding virtual tutoring sessions for students who were struggling.
Today you were just planning to create a few different anchor charts to upload for sale on your TPT account. You had just finished designing one for homophones vs. homographs and were ready to upload it when your phone buzzed. When you noticed the notification, you couldnât help but smile.
A: Good morning
Y: Â Good morning! How are you?
A: Iâm well, glad to be going home. How are you?
Y: Right, you had said you were on the west coast, is that for work?
Y: And I am good, thank you.
A: Yes, I unfortunately have to travel a lot for work. Your bio says youâre a teacher, thatâs really incredible, how long have you been teaching?
Y: Travelling for work must take the excitement out of the actual travel.
Y: And thank you! I have been teaching for 5 years now! I love it so much; the kids make all the paperwork and administrative stuff worth it! Â
A: It is so great that you have that passion. It seems that itâs becoming increasingly rare.
Y: What about you? I see youâre a federal agent, is that right?
A: Yeah, I am. Itâs not as glamorous as it may sound.
Y: I would think itâs busy, and hard work. Especially with you travelling while having kids at home.
A: It is, itâs nice to talk to someone who understands that. I just have one kid, a son, heâs almost 8.
Y: That is a good age!
A: It really is, heâs coming into his own.
A: I just saw the time; I have a plane to go catch. Can we talk again soon?
Y: I would really like that. Have a safe flight Aaron.
**One Month later**
The two of you had talked nearly every day for the past month. He was everything you couldâve hoped for; kind, funny, charming, he asked you about yourself and your job. You were really enjoying talking to him and he mustâve shared those feelings because he had recently asked you to switch over from Tinder to texting.
Aaron and you hadnât had the chance to meet in person yet, but you texted frequently. In the time youâve been talking, heâd been out of town a total of three times. The first was when youâd matched, he was somewhere on the west coast then. He was back for two days from that trip before he left again, that time was a short stint in the Midwest. And the most recent time, which he was just getting back from was a whole week, somewhere nearby, you knew based on the fact that you remained in the same time zone.
Getting to know each other had been going well, you two asked one another deep questions instead of surface level stuff. Youâd talked about your dreams and how you hoped to continue teaching for a few more years before moving up into the administration side of things, and Aaron had shared that he used to be a prosecutor and while he couldnât share much about his current job, he shared what he might do when he was done at the FBI. He informed you that you had inspired him and that heâd been considering teaching classes at the local university.
Connecting with him was easy, so easy in fact that youâd both admitted to having deleted your dating apps. You had told Aaron that you really wanted to meet him, and he had agreed with you, and so you had set up a tentative date for the following Friday, provided work doesnât call him away.
Naturally, work did call him away. Heâd texted you as soon as he found out. Short but sweet.
Aaron: Hey, I am so sorry, but we got a case. Weâre headed to the tarmac now. Raincheck?
You: Oh, no worries! I understand, have a safe flight. Will you let me know when you land?
Aaron: Of course, Iâll talk to you later sweetheart.
You couldnât help but blush at the name. Aaron and you hadnât used pet names or even discussed itâŚhell, you hadnât really discussed anything about what you were or where you were headed. You had figured that you would have that discussion over dinner, only now that wasnât happening.
In all honesty you were starting to lose your resolve. Since you had started talking to Aaron, you hadnât talked to any other men, which meant you hadnât been intimate with any other men. You were starting to feel pretty restless. Youâd thought about texting him, but again, you had no idea what this thing you were doing was. You had tried to push the feeling aside, keeping yourself busy by watching TV and cutting out materials for your classroom.
It was nearly 10 pm when your phone lit up. You looked down to see Aaronâs contact light up your screen, a smile taking form on your lips.
Aaron: Hey sweetheart, how was your day?
You: Hey! It was productive, I got a lot of prep work done for my class. How was your day?
Aaron: It was long, and brutal. I would much rather be there with you.
This was it; he was opening the door; you would just have to see how far he wanted this to goâŚwould he invite you in given the chance?
You: Iâd love it if you were here. Iâm just lying in bed.
Aaron: You are?
You: Yeah, just here in bed. Thinking about you.
Aaron: Iâve been thinking about you too.
You: Yeah? How so?
Aaron: Sweetheart, I donât want you to think that this is just some ploy. I like you; I really do, and I want to meet you in person.
You: I like you too Aaron and I know you wouldnât do that. Iâd also really love for you to continueâŚI really need to know what youâve been thinking about.
Aaron: God sweetheart. Iâve been thinking about all the things Iâd like to do with you.
Aaron: Iâd love to start by grabbing your face and kissing those beautiful lips.
You feel a shiver run down your spine as you read Aaron's text. Your heart begins to race, anticipation bubbling up inside you. The words on the screen ignite a flame of desire deep within your core, making it impossible to resist the growing heat between your legs.
You: Mmm, that sounds amazing. I can almost feel your lips on mine already.
Aaron: I want to taste every inch of you. Starting with your mouth, then trailing my kisses down your neck.
The mere thought of Aaron's lips exploring your body sends a surge of wetness between your thighs. You imagine him leaving gentle, lingering kisses along the curve of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just below your earlobe.
You: Yes, please. I want to feel your lips everywhere.
Aaron: I'd slowly remove your shirt, teasingly revealing the soft skin underneath until itâs off completely, exposing your beautiful breasts.
You can't help but squirm in bed, the tingling warmth between your legs intensifying with every word. The anticipation builds as you imagine Aaron's hands brushing against your skin, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along the curve of your breasts.
You: Oh God, that sounds incredible. I canât wait to feel your touch, Aaron.
Aaron: And I canât wait to give it to you, my sweet girl. I'd worship every inch of your body, my hands guiding my lips and tongue to explore you.
Your breath catches in your throat as the images flood your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last. You can almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your collarbone, the way his tongue would flick against your sensitive flesh.
You: Please, Aaron. I need you now. I can't wait any longer.
Aaron: Patience, sweetheart. We'll meet soon, and when we do, I promise to fulfill your every desire.
As you read Aaron's response, a mix of relief and disappointment washes over you. You understand the need for caution, but the ache within you grows stronger with each passing minute. The desire to feel Aaron's touch, to have him consume you completely, becomes almost unbearable.
You: Okay, Aaron. I trust you.
Aaron: Good girl. Now, close your eyes and imagine my hands tracing circles on your thighs. Slowly inching higher, closer to where you crave me the most.
You follow his command, closing your eyes and allowing your mind to paint vivid images of his touch. The sensation of his warm hands on your thighs sends shivers down your spine as you imagine his fingers inching closer to your pulsating core.
You: Oh yes, Aaron. I can nearly feel your hands on me, the anticipation is almost unbearable. Every nerve ending in my body burns for your touch.
Aaron: That's it, my sweet girl. Imagine my fingers brushing against your wetness, teasingly circling your throbbing clit, driving you to the edge.
Your breath hitches in your throat. The images in your mind become more vivid, your body responding to the phantom touch that you crave with every fiber of your being.
You: Yes, Aaron. I can feel it. My body is on fire for you.
Aaron: I can practically see the uncontrollable desire in your eyes, sweet girl. I bet you look so pretty when you cum.
Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and frustration. The words exchanged between you and Aaron ignite a passionate flame within you, but the distance between you only fuels the longing for his touch. For now, you must find solace in the words that pass between you, allowing your imaginations to create a world where your desires can run wild.
You: I can't wait for the moment when this all becomes reality.
Aaron: It will be worth the wait, my sweet girl. Until then, tell me what youâve been thinking about. Tell me what you want me to do to you.
You close your eyes, mind racing with a whirlwind of untamed thoughts and secret desires. With each passing moment, the explicit nature of your conversation with Aaron intensifies, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. The electrifying tension between you grows with every tantalizing word exchanged, pushing the boundaries of your imagination further than ever before. You find yourself under Aaron's spell, eager to confess the deepest, darkest corners of your desires.
You: Aaron, I want you to take control. I want to be at your mercy, to feel the weight of your dominance. Do with me as you please.
Aaron: My sweet girl, I will claim you as mine, marking every inch of your body with my touch.
Your body trembles in anticipation of your approaching orgasm. Every nerve ending tingles and pulses, craving the touch of Aaron's hands, his lips, his body against yours. The air is thick with desire as you imagine surrendering yourself to him completely. You slide two fingers into your pulsing heat, slowly thrusting them in and out, imagining Aaron was the one providing you such pleasure.
Aaron: Give yourself over to me. Let go sweetheart. I want to push you to your limits and then pull you back.
Your fingers move faster, matching the rhythm of your racing heart. The room seems to spin as you find yourself on the precipice of ecstasy. One final thrust of your fingers and you are sent hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure that crash over you like a tsunami.
As you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm, your breathing begins to steady, and the reality of the moment settles in.
You: Aaron...that was...beyond anything I could have imagined.
Aaron: This is only the beginning. There is so much more for us to explore when we are finally together.
You were growing more confident in whatever this was with him, but you were also becoming more and more frustrated at the fact that you had still yet to meet up with him. You had facetimed many times at this point. Calling one another regularly, to say good morning, to let you know he had landed safely, to tell him all about your day, and even to get one another off at the end of a long hard week.
He was extremely apologetic, given that his chaotic schedule was to blame for you having yet to meet in person. He had even gone as far as to let you know each day they didnât have a case to see if you were free, but unfortunately as the new school year was approaching, you had become increasingly busier. You had been attending trainings for curriculum as well as the new program the school would be using to take attendance. You had also been going in to start setting up your classroom for a few hours each day.
When you werenât at the school working on those things, you were at home writing lesson plans, making assignments, and getting your google classroom setup online. You had felt horrible that you had to decline dates, especially given that he finally had time for them, but Aaron was so sweet, assuring you that it was okay. You told him that once the school year started things would be easier since there wouldnât be so much to prep anymore and once again Aaron let you know that he understood. Â
Time had flown by; Aaron and you had been talking and doing whatever this was for nearly two months. Many things had been exchanged between the two of you, promises of exclusivity (without labels for now), explicit messages, talks of the future, nude photos, hopes and dreams, amongst many other things. Since that night, you and Aaron had shared many explicit conversations that had ultimately led to some of the best orgasms youâd ever given yourself. You we genuinely surprised at how quickly you had felt comfortable with a man youâve never actually met, but him facetiming you regularly helped, you supposed. It was scary to think you could be falling for this man so early on.
Shaking the thought out of your mind you checked your phone, only to see a missed call from Aaron, as well as a voicemail. It made you smile to yourself, nobody you knew left voicemails anymore, they always followed a missed call with a text.
VM <Aaron>: Hey sweetheart, you must be busy, but I wanted to see if you were free this Saturday. I know you have some stuff going on at the school this week, but I thought since you are off, and I just found out it is a mandatory off day for the team, it might be a good time for us to finally go out.
Aaronâs voicemail made you giddy, because him having a mandatory day off on the weekend was rare (as he previously informed you). They tend to fall in the middle of the week between cases to allow the agents a break. But a Saturday! One of your days off â this meant you could finally go on your date! You quickly clicked your phone app, scrolled to his contact, and hit the call button.
âHotchner.â Aaron said.
âHey baby!â You greeted.
âOh, hi sweetheart! I take it you got my voicemail?â
âI did, and I am totally free on Saturday! Were you thinking dinner?â
âWell Jack is with his grandpa on Saturday, so I thought maybe we could spend the whole day together? I have a feeling once I see you, Iâm not going to want to let you out of my sight for a bit.â Aaron explained.
âFirst of all, same! Second of all, I would love to spend the day with you, maybe we could go to the farmerâs market in the morning? I could get some stuff to make us dinner. What do you think?â You questioned.
âPerfect! Alright, well it is getting late, and I know you have a busy day at the school tomorrow, so I am going to let you go. Have a good night sweet girl.â
âTomorrow wonât be as bad as Thursday, but you are right it is getting late. Goodnight handsome! Text me when you get up?â You asked, hopeful.
âYou are going to do great on Thursday, the parents are going to love you. And I will text you first thing!â
With that, you hung up. Aaron was sweet trying to ease your mind of your anxieties. You knew realistically that your meet the teacher night on Thursday would be fine and that there really was no reason to fret, but alas, here you are letting it eat you up.
The next three days passed in a blur, Aaron had been consulting on a case from the Quantico office, something about it not being enough information to warrant travel. You had been finishing up all your last-minute decorations and lesson prep. You also needed to make your slideshow that you would review during meet the teacher.
It had been chaotic, but you managed to get everything completed on time and Aaron had actually helped that precinct close their case. It had been a successful week, and now you on top of your back-to-school jitters, you also had nerves from your pending date. You told yourself to focus on one thing at a time, it would be easier that way.
Which leads you to right nowâŚ
Meet the teacher night was the most nerve-wracking and exciting night of the year, you wanted to make a good impression for all the parents, but you also needed to show the kids that you were a safe adult that they could trust who has curated an inviting and cozy space for them to express themselves and engage in learning.Â
You had spent the last week getting your classroom perfectly decorated and organized for this moment, and here it was finally happening. You waited, anxiously fidgeting with your sleeves as families made their way into your classroom, greeting them all as they entered. A parent had pulled you aside to talk about their childâs multitude of allergies when another family had walked in, presumably the last one if you had your count right. You excused yourself and made your way over to the father of this student and stopped dead in your tracks. Youâd recognize him anywhere, you had memorized his face, arms, hands, broad shoulders and here he was in front of you now.
âHiâ it came out as a breath; you were stunned that he was here now.
âHi, I had no idea you were Jackâs teacher. The email I got mustâve been your last nameâŚâ Aaron tried to explain.
âNo, donât worry about it, we hadnât exchanged full names. I um maybe we should talk about this after.â Youâd just remembered that you were in a room full of parents and your soon-to-be students.
âRight, thatâs a good idea.â Aaron said as he made his way over to Jack and some woman.
Your stomach dropped as Aaron greeted the woman, clearly someone he was very familiar with. Had this all been a lie, the last two months. You zoned out, completely disassociated as you gave your presentation, welcoming the families, going over pickup/drop-off procedures, discussing how you would communicate with parents and going over the scope and sequence of the curriculum for this year.
As you spoke, you found your eyes drifting back to him. Your stomach dropping every time he meets your gaze. How dare he. How dare he smile at you like nothing is wrong, like he isnât here with some other woman.
You made it halfway through the powerpoint which was a chance for parents to ask any questions that they had thus far. A few parents had asked about the school lunch program and what after-school activities they could anticipate throughout the year. Another parent asked about one of the board adopted reading curriculums and how it would be implemented â all tame so far. Then his hand went up. You steeled yourself before gesturing to him.
âMr. Hotchnerâ You signaled him to ask his question.
âYes, I wanted to know more about the art program here. Which classes are provided as the kidsâ specials?â
âThatâs a great question, our school has received a grant from the state for our arts program, it is one of the best in the U.S.. The students will participate in multiple specials throughout the week such as Art, Physical Education, Chorus, Computers, Robotics, Gardening, Band, and Dance. They will have two specials classes on every day of the week, save for Wednesdays, since those are half days.â You explained.
âWow, thatâs amazing, thank you!â Aaron smiled at you again.
You were proud of the fact that your school had the ability to have such a wide variety of electives to offer your students. Your heart swells when talking about it, knowing that you worked tirelessly to help lock in that grant for your school. Aaronâs smiley response, however, makes your stomach churn. Â
You continued throughout the last few slides, closed out your presentation and said your goodbyes, answering the few remaining questions while picking up stray crayons and cups scattered around the room. As you threw the last few cups in the trash you turned to see Aaron lingering in the back of the room alone.
There was a nagging feeling eating away at you. He surely didnât have the audacity to come here with another woman. Not when you had spent the last two months sharing the most intimate parts of yourselves with one another. Granted he didnât know it would be you, so maybe that was why he was here with her. All you wanted to do was grab your bag and get the hell out of here.
âSweetheart, Iâm sorry. I didnât expect to see you here tonight.â He started.
âSooo, should we just ignore the fact that Iâve seen you naked? Just pretend like the last two months never happened. I donât want to put Jack in an awkward position. And I certainly donât want to come between you and your girlfriend.â You huffed.
âWoah, sweetheart, hold on. What are you talking about? As far as I am concerned the only person who I would call my girlfriend here is you, but obviously we havenât discussed that and seeing as we are only just meeting now, I figured weâd go on our date before labeling anything. I donât want to forget about any of this, I want to keep this going, see where it leads.â Aaron reached for your hand gently.
âAaron, if you are seeing that woman you came here with then this has to end. Iâm not looking to be a third, or to be your mistress. You canât do that to her. You canât do that to Jack!â You shook your head and pulled your hand away from his.
âOh my god. No, thatâs Jess, Jackâs aunt. I thought I told you about her. Itâs Jackâs momâs sister. The only person I want to see is you baby.â He reaches for you again.
This time you let him pull you into his embrace. You shake your head, feeling like an idiot for even thinking Aaron was capable of something so awful.
âIâm so stupid. Aaron I am so sorry!â
âSweetheart it is okay! I canât even imagine how it mustâve looked.â He pressed his lips to the top of your head.
âI canât believe you are actually here right now.â You whispered, pressing your face further into his chest.
Aaron squeezed you tighter, rubbing his hands up and down the expanse of your back. You took a deep breath in, savoring the smell of his cologne.
âYou know, I could have Jess take Jack home, and maybe we could go grab a bite to eat?â Aaron suggested.
âReally?â You looked to him for confirmation.
Aaron replied with a subtle âmhmmâ to which you nodded. He quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and shot a quick text to Jess. He was sure to give her a brief explanation of the situation, this of course caused her to agree to take Jack for the night.
You should have known you wouldnât even make it to dinner. Aaron had suggested going back to his place since it would be empty and ordering in. How could you say no, it was a brilliant idea.
The two of you barely made it through the door before your lips met in a fiery kiss, tugging at one anotherâs clothes. Aaron had picked you up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he carried you the rest of the way to the bedroom.
He gently laid you on the bed, holding his weight up by his elbows on either side of your head. He leans in to kiss you once more before pulling away entirely.
âSweetheart, I want to make sure you really want this. I can wait and I donât want you to think this is all I want because trust me I want you. All of you.â Aaron expressed.
âAaron I want this, all of this with you.â You gently brushed your finger against his jaw.
With that, Aaron dove back in and kissed you with fervor. His hands gripping your plush thighs sliding up to your hips. Your hands reaching to unbutton his dress shirt, unsuccessfully so. Aaronâs hands come up to meet your own, he moves to remove his own shirt which allows you just enough space to remove your own. Garments are strewn about the room as Aaron leans down attaching his lips to the top of your breasts. His hands come up to grope them, your body arching into his touch. He tugs the lace down, exposing your nipple, it immediately perks to the cold air, and he attaches his mouth to it. You canât help the gasp that releases from your throat. You card your fingers through his hair raking your nails against his scalp.
Aaron presses his hips to yours, allowing you to feel his growing length against your inner thigh. Heat courses through your body as your heart races. He undresses you with a slow, deliberate intent, unhooking your bra and allowing your breasts to bounce free. The vulnerability of it all makes you feel alive, desired, cherished.
Your hands explore his body, his muscles hard and defined under your touch. You run your fingers across the faint lines of scars, evidence of his journey, the stories he's lived. You gently trace them, feeling his rough skin, the warmth emanating from him. You feel like you know him, like you've been waiting for this moment your entire life.
He stands, his eyes locked with yours. He reaches down, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down his legs. Your eyes follow the movement, taking in every inch of his body, he is standing before you, naked and exposed. You feel a wave of desire wash over you, a fiery need to be closer to him. Your hands reach for him, your fingers brushing against the curve of his hips, the muscles in his thighs, the hard line of his abdomen. You run your fingertips along the slight indent of his navel, and he lets out a low groan.
Your body is alive with desire, every breath you take sharper, every touch more electric. You know this moment will be etched in your memory forever, the beginning of something beautiful. And as you take his hand, pulling him back to the bed, you know that this is where your story will unfold, a story of passion, love, and a bond that will last a lifetime.
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Call It What You Want - Kang Yeosang
Synopsis: Yeosang was a mysterious guy on your campus. He was the guy who was at every party thrown, but also would spend hours studying in the library. He got good grades but could also drink more than fraternity brother. He was a puzzle that you were trying to figure out. Little did you know, you were the missing piece to his own puzzle.
"Are labels really that important when I am 100% certain about my feelings for you?"
Pairing: non-idol!Kang Yeosang x reader
Genre: Angst - unofficial relationship, uncertainty, friends with benefits turned to lovers.
Warnings: PG-13 - contains implied sexual intercourse, alcohol consumption, implied female masturbation
Word Count: 4.3k
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Yeosang was a mysterious man, even to those that personally knew him. He never really let off what his emotions were right away.
He was a man capable of multiple things. He had two personalities - one that was a tough, rigid guy who had his mind set on one thing. It would be impossible to get him to reconsider. He then also had this soft side of his personality that lured people in. Yeosang was always calm and composed. Overall though, he was like royalty. People worshipped the ground he walked on.
You were tucked away in his world. You got to experience both sides of him and then more. A lot more.
Your chest was rising and falling, holding Yeosang's comforter up to your chest. This was a regular routine for you and Yeosang. Every week, at some point or another, you would find yourself in his bed.
Last night, tequila was the motivating factor that led you into his bedroom. It started off innocent, Yeosang just checking in on you. You both were at the same party, but attended with different people. However, once you spotted him and the alcohol settled in your system, you decided it was only appropriate you grinded your hips back into him.
Eagerly, Yeosang ordered an Uber for the two of you. You couldn't remember much once you stepped into his apartment except for the quiet giggles, hands all over each other, and rushes kisses.
And now here you were. It was 8:08am. It was always a rush to be sleeping with Yeosang, but lately, you were craving more. More than just what friends with benefits are meant to be.
Yeosang and you met after being in the same writing seminar freshman year. It was a requirement for first years, to help them get accustomed to the writing styles expected of them. The two of you didn't take the class too seriously, often coming in late or skipping all together. You weren't expecting to be friends with Yeosang, considering he was rather quiet in class.
That's how the friendship began to blossom. You would hang out either at his apartment or yours. It was also how you got close with Yeosang's roommates - Yunho, San, Mingi, and Wooyoung.
You two quickly became friends on an intimate level. It started when you were confiding in Wooyoung how frustrated you were with meeting guys on Tinder. With your busy schedule, you weren't really trying to date in college. Yet, you still had needs. You figured one night stands would end up being your best option, but each guy left you more disappointed than the one before.
Big mistake in confiding in Wooyoung. Word quickly spread to Yeosang, who offered himself to help with your situation.
At first, you thought he was just mocking you. Sure, you could resort to masturbation or buying sex toys, but you loved the feeling of someone's body on yours. You craved the feeling of wandering hands on your skin, causing the goosebumps to rise and your heart to race with excitement. You even wanted to spend minutes rushing to cover up hickies before going to lectures.
You just had no idea how happy Yeosang was to help you out.
It started by hooking up when you were the most stressed - two days before exam day. You would spend the week trying to study as much as possible. Yet, Yeosang always noticed the way you would increasingly hunch over the table. It was as if you were being consumed by the stress and sex was the only remedy.
Soon, once a week became twice a week. You'd hit up Yeosang late at night, often when you were feeling the most lonely. And every time, Yeosang was wide awake and waiting for you with open arms. He would either make sweet love to you, reminding you of how cherished you are, or he would be willing to fuck you into his mattress.
Now, twice a week was almost every other night. You were over at Yeosang's more than you were at your own apartment. There even was a toothbrush waiting for you in his bedroom.
As seniors in college, things were starting to shift for you.
"Surprised you are up, darlin.'"
You jumped slightly at the sound of the deep voice behind you. He snickered before moving to wrap an arm around you, pulling you in closer to him. "Not like you to be up this early," he murmured. You felt yourself shiver, your heart racing, as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck.
The Yoesang campus knew would have never guessed he used pet names the way he just casually dropped them with you. If anything, they were probably convinced he had a stone-cold heart as he rarely showed emotion to others. The only time he seemed happy was if he was with his usual group.
But if you saw him walking alone through campus? His gaze was locked in front of him. He never smiled at people he passed, so people often avoided him.
"I'm also not the type of person to drink that much tequila," you sighed. Your face was moving to burrow into the pillow beneath you, which only made Yeosang laugh more.
Deep down, you knew you couldn't get tired of Yeosang. The physical chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. He also has become such a pivotal part of your life, as someone you confided in. He saw you truly at your lowest and highest.
I guess that is what made it easy to fall for him. The way he treated you made you feel like a princess. You couldn't help but wonder if there was something more than just friends with benefits.
As your dating life hit obstacles, Yeosang was quick to remind you of your worth. He would take you out into the city, treating you to dinner or attending events with you. He was also rather affectionate with you, a quickly you didn't see often even with his closest friends. He seemed a bit standoffish to the rest of the world. Yet, with you, you were the one that seemed to crack the code of who was Kang Yeosang.
There was no way you would dare to open up that conversation. For the most part, you were content with just being friends with benefits. Emphasis on the friends part. He was too important in your life just to allow the rush of butterflies to override your brain. Part of you was convinced that you only felt this way about Yeosang was because you had been single for some time now, and Yeosang offered everything that you wanted in a partner.
You only seemed to allow yourself to play into that fantasy when you were alone in your bedroom. Often, with your fingertips playing with your clit as you would close your eyes to think what it would be like to be Kang Yeosang's girlfriend.
"I think I'm going to hop in the shower. Care to join me for round 2?" "As much as I'd love that, I think I need to get something in my stomach." "Yeah, of course. Why don't you let me shower up real quick and we'll figure out where to go, ok?"
Just another reason why you adored Yeosang. He never pressured you to have sex with him, even though you often felt things were one-sided between the two of you. It was always you messaging him first, always you who orgasmed first. Sometimes, you wished Yeosang would be selfish and ask for you to come over.
As Yeosang slipped into his bedroom, you took the time to slip on one of Yeosang's shirt. He never seemed to mind, as you often left his place wearing one of his shirts. You were positive three or four had claimed refuge in your dresser. Before you ventured downstairs, you also made sure to slip on a pair of clean boxers from Yeosang's own dresser.
Hearing the shower head turn on, you slipped downstairs. You heard a slight commotion from downstairs. But you didn't need to see to already know the rest of the house was up and active.
"And look who it is. Mrs. Kang, nice of you to show your face instead of just hearing you," Mingi called out with a playful smirk.
The rest of the boys were crowded around the kitchen island, eating cereal except for San. He had his back turned towards you and the rest of the group. They were all snickering at Mingi's comment but quickly stopped when you smacked the back of Mingi's head.
"Where is the boyfriend anyways? Still asleep?" Yunho asked. "First of all, he is not my boyfriend. Second, could it kill any of you to make coffee?" You playfully whined. "Already on it, chief," San called out.
He stepped to reveal the glorious sight coffee being brewed in the coffee pot. You could just kiss San right now! "At least I can always depend on you, San," you said playfully.
All the boys were special to you, all thanks to Yeosang. They easily became like brothers of your own, having a special place in your heart. You kissed San's cheek gently before going to retrieve two coffee mugs for you, San, and Yeosang who would eventually appear.
"Don't let Yeosang see you. He might get jealous," Wooyoung laughed. "Unless that's her aim. You know, jealousy sex is the best especially when your boyfriend thinks you're into one of his friends." "And how would you know?" San asked, an eyebrow raised. "Your room isn't next to theirs." Your cheeks were flushed bright red. Maybe you should have stuck it out in the shower with Yeosang. You'd be safe from the ridicule and probably on your second orgasm by now.
"Yeosang isn't my boyfriend," you sighed. "Really? But that's the contact name he has saved for you in his phone."
The room suddenly got dead silent. All eyes were shifted to Wooyoung who was staring at your like a deer caught in headlights. You were staring forward, facing the cabinets before slowing turning around. Your heart had dropped to your stomach yet picked up again, both with curiosity and excitement.
Okay, maybe you were really into Yeosang.
"What did you say?" You voice was softer. "You know, I don't really know what I'm talking about. It could have been anyone." "Wooyoung!" Yunho hissed. "Shut the fuck up."
Your heart broke again, but this time shattered into pieces. That could also be true. You and Yeosang hadn't quite put a label on the two of you. It just seemed to be a mutual understanding that you were best friends who occasionally had sex. Friends with benefits. That was it, right?
Technically, he was free to see anyone else. At any point, your little scenario could come to an end when one of you finds a significant other. it was something you had acknowledged, but something you hadn't put much thought into.
You chewed on your bottom lip, as your heart and mind were arguing with each other. You hadn't even noticed your eyes were becoming glossy at the thought that Yeosang might be into someone that wasn't you. San's hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality.
"Y/n? Are you ok?"
It was then you became hyperaware that all eyes were on you. Wooyoung looked apologetically, as they were all concerned for you.
"You know, I forgot I promised to study today with a few friends. I'll catch you guys later."
Before any of them could stop you, you began rushing upstairs to Yeosang's room. Luckily, the shower was still running so you could make your great escape. You slipped on your sweatpants and jacket, gathering all your belongings into your purse.
The shower suddenly stopped. Fuck.
You bolted out of the room just as the door was opening from the bathroom, light and steam escaping into the hallway. You had made it halfway down the staircase when Yeosang seemed to call out to you. But you didn't have the guts to turn back around. Not when you felt like you couldn't breathe.
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"You just ran out of there?!" Hongjoong asked.
You groaned as out loud as you could, not too loud though as you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. After running out, you tried distracting yourself around your apartment but it was no use. This called for an emergency meeting with your best friend, Kim Hongjoong.
Hongjoong was a sophomore when you met him as a freshman. He kindly held your hair when you were throwing up at his house party, and you've been joined at the hip since. Hongjoong was attending grad school much to your benefit. He was still available for 911 Boy Trouble calls.
Tonight, you therapy session was over a pitcher of cocktails at your local college bar. Hongjoong knew all about Yeosang, as he too thought you two were together.
"What else was I supposed to do? Wooyoung blurted that apparently I'm Yeosang's girlfriend without him even saying so? And then brought up the fact that it might've been someone else? They had a front row view to me falling apart." "Remind me to smack some sense into Wooyoung." "I think Yunho already beat you to that one," you laughed softly. "Have you talked to Yeosang since?"
You shook your head, staring down into the pitcher of your drink. Your local college bar was known for these pitchers, putting gummies in them for an extra treat. You were staring down basically into a swimming pool of gummy worms and sweet alcohol.
Yeosang has been trying to call you all day today, probably confused why you got up and ran out. it was very unlike you, especially not to tell him your whereabouts. You were sure his roommates were filling him in though about what went down in the kitchen. The last thing you wanted was to confess why exactly you ran out of the apartment.
Hongjoong didn't say anything at first. And it was starting to scare you. Did he also know something you didn't? You peered up to see Hongjoong almost staring through you. You raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out what was going on. It became clear that he was looking behind you, which naturally made you turn around.
Once again, you felt your heart shatter. You didn't want to become accustomed to this feeling, but it was getting worse each time.
There were Yeosang, San, and Mingi. Wooyoung and Yunho had found themselves at the bar, probably ordering for the group. Normally, you would have been elated to see the group and probably would have gone over. That is, if there wasn't a girl sandwiched between Yeosang and San.
Who was she? Was she with Yeosang or San? Was this the alleged girlfriend Wooyoung actually was referring to?
"Y/n, don't even bother," Hongjoong began.
Quickly turning back around, you downed your drink. Hongjoong's eyes widened as he watched you, still halfway through his first one. He's seen you drink before, but not that quickly.
This evening was definitely taking a turn.
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"Y/n, come on. We're going home," Hongjoong announced.
He was trying his best to sound stern with you, but he was honestly concerned about you. He has never seen this bad before. He's never seen anyone drink 5 pitchers without splitting them with someone. It was as if you were trying to prove to yourself you could live a life without Yeosang in it.
"Nooooo," you whined out. "Just one more, Joongie, please." "Absolutely not. We are going home."
He was trying his best to get you outside, so he could order an Uber for the two of you. Hongjoong had a few drinks, trying to keep up with you, but still sober enough to know getting behind the wheel was the worse thing for the two of you. All he wanted was to get you in your apartment, get some water in your system, and tuck you into bed.
Hongjoong was trying to keep you stable, as you were swaying back and forth. You made numerous attempts to go up to the bar to order for yourself, but the bartender refused. You then had tried getting Hongjoong to buy you another drink, but he had already bought 5 out of your 6 rounds. It was time to call quits.
"Look, I know you're upset, y/n, sweetheart. But this isn't going to help you. You're going to have a massive headache in the morning and be even more upset." "But I want to stay."
People were staring at you. Of course, there were tales of people getting too crazy at the bar. You just never thought you would be one of those people.
"Hongjoong, you heard her." A voice announced from the two of you. "She doesn't want to leave."
Looking over your shoulder, you scoffed to see it was Yeosang standing behind you. His friends including the mystery girl, and everyone at the bar, were watching the three of you. Your hands were resting on Hongjoong's arms, so you wouldn't go slipping onto the floor since your legs were wobbly.
"Maybe you can talk some sense into her?" Hongjoong reasoned.
Getting a look at you, Yeosang then realized that Hongjoong was just trying to do the right thing. Your skin was pale from all the alcohol and lack of food you consumed. Your eyes were glazed over, as you tried your best to maintain eye contact. You did need to go home.
"Sweet girl, he's right. You need to go home." "And why should I?" you slurred. "Just to have sex with you again and have you drop me?" "You know I'd never do that to you," he responded, his voice stern.
Yeosang glanced between you and Hongjoong, nodding. He extended his arms, knowing you couldn't walk on your own but offering for Hongjoong to pass you off to him. Slowly, Hongjoong brought you into Yeosang's arms.
Once he had you in his arms, he made sure one arm was wrapped around you to support you up. He flexed his arms just for the support and to pull you in close to him. His other hand had cupped your cheek, causing you to look up at him slowly. He offered a gentle smile to which made you still feel all warm and tingly despite the amount of times you wanted to cry over him today. Damn him.
"Come on, angel. We are going to go home, ok?"
There were murmurs around the two of you. Surprised to see Yeosang show an ounce of kindness.
"Is the Uber already ordered?" Hongjoong shook his head but did pull out his phone. "No, I was going to wait until we got outside. I thought the cool air might help her, but I can order it for the two of you. Just text me when you get her home?"
Yeosang thanked quickly before helping you out of the bar. He could care less about his reputation of being a lone wolf, someone not to be messed with, dissolved just by his actions. All that mattered was getting you home.
Luckily, the Uber was right around the corner. Perks of going to a university in a major city. Yeosang held you up right still. His hand now tucking strands of his hair behind your ear as he looked at you softly yet with so much concern. God, it felt like your heart was going to combust.
"What's going on, sweetheart? You have been hard to reach all day, and now you don't tell me when you plan on drinking? You know I like to be in the same room just to make sure you're okay." "And interrupt your date? No thanks," you huffed. "Date? You think San is my type?"
Your eyes narrowed in on him, and he realized it was no joking matter. His hand came back to cup your cheek, keeping your eyes locked on his. He desperately wanted to figure out what was troubling your mind.
"Yeosang, I saw you. You were on a date with some girl. Wooyoung also said you had a girlfriend. I thought I was more than a side piece to you!"
Before Yeosang could answer, the Uber pulled up. He rolled down the window, asking if it was for Hongjoong for which Yeosang just played along. He definitely owed your friend for this favor.
The Uber driver unlocked the backdoor, allowing Yeosang to open it. He helped you in, making sure you didn't knock your knees against the back of the passenger seat or fall over. He then leaned over to buckle you in. You were his priority.
"Y/n, I can promise you that she is not my girlfriend," he whispered.
Once again, you scoffed at him. How stupid did he think you were? That just because you had a bit to drink that you'd believe every word he said? Your arms crossed over your chest, turning away from him. Yeosang couldn't help but smirk and snicker at you. He never realized how adorable you could get when you were frustrated especially at him.
Not wanting to keep the driver waiting, Yeosang quickly jogged around to the opposite side of the car. Just where you were looking at. You groaned as his eyes met yours once the door was open and he slid in.
Great.
Yeosang buckled up, so that the driver wouldn't get annoyed with you two. Plus, the quicker you could get home, the sooner you could be put to bed.
"Y/n, I mean it. That is not my girlfriend. She's one of Yunho's friends. He is actually trying to set her up with San." "Then why were you sitting beside her?"
He chuckled as he noticed you were jealous on top of being drunk. Interesting. Yeosang leaned in gently to press a kiss to your cheek, moving his lips to whisper into your ear.
"Just didn't want to make her feel trapped with San. I didn't want to put her in the corner where she was stuck with San. I could easily get up if she wanted to leave," he explained. "Better question though, my dear, is are you jealous?"
Your eyes widened and jaw dropped. You were trying to rack through all the excuses you could come up with, but your drunk mind was failing you. Everyone knew you to be quick on your feet. Not tonight.
"And what if I am?" You asked softly. "I like knowing you are jealous and protective of me," he smirked. "I mean, if anyone is my girlfriend, it would be you."
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Your eyes fluttered once again, just like yesterday. Immediately, you groaned as there was a sharp headache. The brightness in your bedroom didn't help either.
"Good morning, sweet girl."
It was then your eyes shot open. What? You looked over beside you to see Yeosang, shirtless, in your bed. You looked down to see you had gotten changed out of the black tube top and ripped jeans into an oversized shirt. One of Yeosang's that was stored at your place.
"We didn't-" "Hell no. You're extremely attractive, y/n, but you were so drunk. I didn't want to take disadvantage of you, so you yelled at me, got changed into one of my shirts, and fell asleep. I just moved you so you were more comfortable in bed."
You nodded slowly, chewing on your bottom lip. You yelled at him? "Sorry," you muttered.
"No, it's ok. I kind of deserved it."
What was he talking about now? It was getting exhausting that everyone else seemed to have an idea of what was going on besides you.
"Something about how I'm not honest with you. And that if you were actually my girlfriend, you would actually say it then pretending we just fuck like bunnies." "I mean, it's true," you sighed.
Yeosang nodded understandably. He never met to drag out confessing his feelings for you. Truthfully, Yeosang had never been good at expressing his emotions. He liked the fact that you spent so much time together that a lot of people assumed you were together. He just believed you two were on the same page without needing to communicate it.
"Are labels really that important when I am 100% certain about my feelings for you?"
Now you made full eye contact with him. You were laying on your back as he was propped up on his side, turned towards you. Even after seeing you at your messiest, he still looked at you like you were the rarest gem found.
"Some sort of indicator that you like me like that would have been helpful, Yeosang," you whispered. "Does this help?"
Slowly, he moved to hover above you. His hand slid over to hold your hip, squeezing your hipbone affectionately. The other hand moved to cup your face. There was no doubt in his mind. He leaned in slowly to press his lips against you.
He kissed you with everything in him. All the words unspoken were communicated through that kiss. The force of his lips pushed your head back into the pillow slightly, but you were quick to reciprocate. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers running through his hair which caused him to smile into the kiss.
"Call it whatever you want, baby. If you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend, we are. I already know you're all mine, and I don't want to shy away from it anymore," he murmured against your lips.
You pulled back, so you could look into his eyes. This time, he was one nervously biting his lip. Did he say too much? Did he say the wrong thing? Fuck, he's never been this nervous before. "I'm yours and you're all mine," you vowed. "Let's just never let Wooyoung decide our next move before we do." "Deal."
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Hi Devon! I read your work published on substack on autism and asexuality (really great stuff!) and then found your Tumblr and came across your own experiences navigating sexuality and kink, and they made me wonder if you have any advice for a fellow asexual on the spectrum who struggles socially but is interested in experimenting with sex/kink for the first time? People usually find sexual partners on dating apps or at the club but that seems so daunting I've been entertaining this fantasy of finding a community of people with a virgin fetish just so I don't have download tinder
Abandon your fantasy that anything fulfilling will occur without a massive amount of work. Running one's own sexual life requires a high caliber of communication, negotiation, and self-promotion skills, as well as a significant amount of time and experience. If this is worth it for you, venture forth! If not, maybe now is not the right time.
I will have a much more in depth guide on cruising written sometime soonish, but in the meantime I do have some tips.
Do not use fucking Tinder. That is an incredibly vanilla, heteronormative site. You might have a negative impression of your chances finding what you want because you've only had a glimpse of the most normie places and your friends' experiences with them. To find the kinky, experimental kind of sex you want, you'll instead have to educate yourself, and go looking for the freaks.
Fetlife is a good place to start. It will be overwhelming to navigate at first, but keep pressing. Fill out your profile with your interests, take a few sexy photos (whatever that means for you), and join local groups. Follow people who post things you find interesting, read lots of posts. Pick up some books on leather and kink history, and study up. Jack Rinella is a favorite of mine, but I am deliberately keeping my recommendation list lean so that you will dig for what you are interested in, yourself.
Look up local groups interested in rubber, leather, kink, etc, find local dungeons, attend local munch events (these are low-pressure social hangouts with no kinky play, but for kinksters to meet eachother), and find out where the gay bars are in your area that have backrooms in them, as well as cruising spots. Check out spaces where people do kinky or sexual stuff together and just watch.
After considerable information gathering and self-searching, put yourself out there and take agency over your own sexual life. Message people you find interesting, and I do mean just interesting. Learn from other bottoms if you're a bottom. Trade stories with other subs if you're a sub. Learn techniques from other Doms if you're a Dom, or some combination of all these things if you're verse or switchy. If someone shares some interests with you and seems compatible, make a specific suggestion for play, like: Want to meet up and practice our rope tying? or Would you like to practice your spanking technique on me? or I don't like having sex, but I'd love to use you as my personal footstool.
Remember that you get to set the terms for the engagement, and the other person does as well. If they reject you, that means consent has successfully happened, everybody gets a pat on the back, good job. The same goes for you. If all you want is to drag a human puppy around on a leash, don't settle for someone who keeps pressuring you for sex. Just end the interaction. There are a whole lot of freaks out there with a whole array of interests, and most people who are kinky eventually learn to be gracious and work with what a prospective partner is into, but we also all have our dealbreakers. That's fine. You don't want to play football with someone who insists on tackle when all you want is touch. It's the same thing. This is just silly pretend games. So find someone who wants to play a game you want to play.
And yeah, you can expect it to take about two years to really find your footing in this world and really know what you want and how to articulate it successfully, at least. That doesn't mean you won't have enjoyable (or at least interesting, informative) experiences along the way. But it is a lot of work. I find it is better to lead off with realistic expectations because many people rush out hoping that someone will just magically appear who will fulfill all their desires, and that's not how the world works. Every person that you speak to in a kinky context is a full human being with their own anxieties, sexual traumas, shame, areas where they lack experience, and desires that might strike them as impossible to realize.
In kink, you have to learn to navigate really complicated interactions with each one of them as its own independent thing. A lot of us make the mistake early on of thinking everyone else out there is a more seasoned, confident, sexually voracious being than we are, and that all we have to do is find the right person to give us a good time. But with our actions and negotiations WE make it a good time, us and our partner of the moment, together.
If you don't put the work in, you get nothing out. But the more you reveal of yourself and stay present in the interaction and honor it as the specific, unique thing that it is, the more benefits you reap -- not just sex or kinky play, but friendships, community ties, self-knowledge, and social skills.
Have fun out there! I hope you learn a lot.
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CS#55 || So? || oneshot
Navigation || Masterlist
If this is your first time here on this blog, please check the Disclaimers here.
pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc sister!reader (feat. charles leclerc!brother) genre: secret relationship, strangers to lovers, fluff, a bit of smut (minors DNI), angst tw: panick attack, brief mentions of death (HervĂŠ), swearing other notes: relationship between Carlos and Charles SUCKS. Consider it out of character, if you will. (Check Disclaimers above) Also, on the desktop version (the themed one) some of the spacing formatting isn't working, so I suggest reading it on the regular page (does it make sense? the one with the blue background. Edit: nevermind, the formatting glitches everywhere. Just... pretend it is fine.) word count: 24.2k plot:Â what could possibly go wrong if you hooked up with a handsome man who you too late discover to be your brother's teammate after said brother had tried to keep your existence unknown to his colleagues?
Hope you enjoy it ⼠If you do, please let me know! Thanks in advance to whoever will like, reblog and comment!
3 new messages from Lando where are u? want to celebrate with you you were my lucky charm today
>>âĽ<<
A bored night in the warm breeze of May, laying on the sofa with eyes fixed upon your phoneâs screen: it was all you needed to twist your life around completely. Not even the breathtaking scenery outside the glass window could cheer you up: palm trees absorbing the orange shades of the sun, the placid ocean roaring on the shore, the pavements brimming with people. Miamiâs perpetual heat weakened your limbs and consumed them slowly and steadily.
Charles had invited you to the race in the USA, hoping that the nice weather and the lively nightlife of Florida would perk your interest. ÂŤI honestly canât believe youâre not coming to the club with me, thatâs rude.Âť ÂŤLan, you know whyâŚÂť To be fair, spending time with Charles shouldâve been a valid reason itself to hop on board the plane, without subtle hints to help you choose. And yet, he knew you wouldnât have accepted his offer as easily as your mother or your brothers would. ÂŤYes, but jeez, you canât hide foreverâŚÂť ÂŤCharles wonât let me. He wants me for Imola and Monaco too.Âť ÂŤNo way he convinced you to do that.Âť ÂŤHe promised to pay for anything I want while travelling with him.Âť It rubbed you the wrong way, and he knew it; he was sorry not to see you on any of his weekends, and you knew it. ÂŤOh, now it makes sense.Âť he pauses. ÂŤMust be sad to be alone, though.Âť
After you had landed in Miami, being the youngest and the newest of all Leclercâs, those two days in the paddock had been a nightmare: you had been asked to release some interviews, always receiving absurd questions on your brotherâs behavior towards you, as if you werenât independent enough to take care of yourself. The trap was set. To which your reaction was hiding in the flat Charles had booked for you and at the same time dreaming of breaking the confinement. ÂŤMaybe I wonât be aloneâŚÂť ÂŤUh? Whatâs up?Âť Exiting your first serious and disastrous relationship â as if anyone could know how to handle another personâs feelings at 21 â you had decided to experiment and not settle to rigid ties anymore, opting for fling burners instead, inspired by the air of freedom and possibilities of Florida. ÂŤIâm currently⌠scoping the surroundings.Âť You had created a Tinder account for the purpose. Scared that someone, despite your brief appearance in the paddock, could recognize you somehow, you had added pictures in which it was almost impossible to tell your face features apart and you had transfigured your surname in Clerc, enough to get away with it. It was as easy as breathing: no strings attached only in the bio, search set on matches near you by location and swipes. Lots of them. As toxic as it could be, receiving so much approval enticed you greatly, but at the same time filled you with inexplicable sadness. You knew nobody was there to stay. ÂŤNeed to search elsewhere when you have me? Iâm not enough for you, am I?Âť Despite how boldly you had followed your proposition, you hadnât acted on your folly yet. Sure, you had been texting with some guys, but nobody had conquered your attention well enough to really drop the talk and meet them in person. You simply craved someone to take notice of you and let you know. ÂŤLan! Of course youâre enough, silly.Âť Because you had craved it all your life.
>>âĽ<<
Through the endless swiping of new faces that Miami offered you, spread on the couch, your half-closed eyelids suddenly batted open. Chili. Mmh. Weird nickname. Sus as heck. But boy, was he handsome. You kept staring at the photos of his card, and well⌠His facial features were barely visible, or not displayed all together at once â in one pic his lavishly thick hair, in another one his glossy eyes, in yet another one the plumpest and most inviting lips on earth⌠â, but you had quite made out his body, and it didnât surprise you at all to read in his short bio that he was an athlete. ÂŤI could tell, honey.Âť you whispered to yourself, still bewildered. A pleased smile adorned your lips as you read the other lines of the bio. Just searching for some good fun, no commitment. All you wanted on a silver plate, right before your drooling heart. A rush of excitement cursed through your fingertips as you swiped right and immediately opened the chat, halting in search of the right words to type.
hey, nice to
What the fuck, it doesnât have to be this awkward and formal. You pouted in reflection, then deleted and re-typed.
hey, want to hang out?
Too straightforward, it seems like youâre the neediest girl on earthâŚ
love your profile, Iâd like to get to know you more
And this is just pathetic. Clingy and stalkerish when he asked for no commitment. You huffed in frustration and threw your arm over your eyes to conceal the hard truth: your inexperience and naivety wasnât to be changed overnight by downloading a dating app. Looking back at the phone, you were ready to spend another hour figuring out what to say, when you noticed a new text on the chat.
are you free to hang out tonight?
Straightforward wouldâve been fine, after all. Because the bluntness and directness of his text shook you deeply within, pulling strings of yearning, curiosity and utmost fascination.
yes, ofc > can i at least know your real name? cause i donât think itâs Chili, right?
You saw his typing dots.
Carlos letâs meet at the Regent at 9
Panicking on Google Maps to search for the address, you saw another notification pop.
the dress code is quite elegant, but iâm sure youâll wear something nice both for yourself and for me as well canât wait to meet you
Cheeks burning red, dazed by the whole interaction and its speed, dizzy with adrenaline, you had no more focus than whatâs required to type:
> me too
>>âĽ<<
You tried to relax your muscles under the hot night breeze, as the sun still lingered on the horizon before setting down. Nervousness stuck the dress on your skin, as much as it dried your mouth and throat. Your only shield: sunglasses. Wearing them at any time of the day was a habit you had unknowingly inherited by Charles. As soon as he had picked it up, he had bought you â well, gifted you, since he had an awfully huge collection of them â a pair of Ray Banâs for your birthday. Whenever you two would hang out together, not often, and heâd invite you aboard his Sedici yacht during the summer break, at the sight of those sunglasses his lips would stretch in his unmistakable dimpled smile.
The walk on the pavement seemed endless and a thousand thoughts crossed your scattered mind: years and years of recommendations from Lorenzo thrown to the wind only to hang out with the first guy met online. Not even met: just let him do the talk on his own and had you wrapped around his finger.
Your sandals moving in shorter steps as you approached the lounge bar, you eyed a standing figure, casually leaning near the entrance, whose small smile momentarily melted your knot of anxiety. Carlos didnât even give you time to greet him and take in his overwhelming presence that he placed his hand on the small of your back, gently but somehow already intimately, directing you towards the entrance. ÂŤSorry, Iâll explain later. Letâs get inside.Âť ÂŤSure!Âť Your voice betrayed the attempt at sounding confident with its squeakiness. Mentally facepalming yourself for it, you couldnât stray your gaze away from his hypnotizing features: he seemed older than what you had thought while observing his profile pictures (and you had consumed them with staring, so it definitely wasnât due to lack of attention) and he exuded a timeless charm quite inexplicable.
As soon as he asked the waiter about his â therefore yours â reservation, you were both given room and led to an inner area of the bar, way quieter and with fewer tables crowding it. He pulled the chair for you, like a true gentleman, and took a seat, grinning wide as you both settled. ÂŤSorry for the hurry, I didnât mean to sound rude.Âť ÂŤNo need to apologize!Âť you quickly hushed, already blushing by the proximity. ÂŤAnd sorry if I asked you to hang out with no warning, but Iâm leaving tomorrow morning and⌠I definitely needed to meet you first, y/n.Âť The name and the thick Spanish accent had sparked the thought, but his words were a confirmation Carlos was probably in Miami by chance, as much as you were. ÂŤWell, Iâm leaving tomorrow too, donât worry. And I wouldnât have accepted if I didnât want to be here.Âť
You exchanged a delighted stare, while going through the menu in search of your cocktail order and, consequently, of relief. Though, the pleasant tension you had felt, like a string pulling you to him, as soon as you had seen him, had gradually disappeared and had left space to a growing sense of ease, almost familiarity: words, together with the liquid content of your drinks, flowed without interruptions, and you touched a wide variety of topics, always finding yourselves on the same page. ÂŤThank you for choosing a quiet place. My moves are constantly watchedâŚÂť you sighed. ÂŤI came here last year and I really enjoyed how chilled out it is. Makes me relax.Âť Carlos leaned back into his chair, so that his collarbones immediately popped under his tanned flesh. ÂŤSo youâre always chased too?Âť ÂŤNot as much as my brother, but yes.Âť ÂŤIs it because of him? Is he known?Âť ÂŤMore than known, yes.Âť you smiled. ÂŤMy life is reserved, compared to his.Âť Carlos took a sip of his drink with a sympathetic smile. ÂŤWould you prefer a quieter life?Âť he asked. You raised your glass, lost in thought. ÂŤMaybe, but that would mean my brother isnât successful anymore, so no. I really canât complain about my life, Iâm⌠lucky.Âť you pulled a small smile. ÂŤI wish I were as grateful as you are.Âť Carlos sighed, and his resignation intrigued you. ÂŤShould you be?Âť ÂŤOh, yeah, I think so.Âť he took another long sip, then wetting his lips clean. ÂŤBut Iâve had paparazzi around me since I was young and I canât bear the mediaâs attention anymore.Âť ÂŤThereâs nothing wrong with that. You shouldnât feel forced to gratitude.Âť you calmly prompted.
His pupils were quite enlarged, you noticed, and glazed with softness: your hand was laid close to his, almost at a fingertipâs distance, and for a moment you both glanced down at them, craving the same touch and connection your minds and feelings had experienced. It had only been half an hour since you had crossed The Regentâs threshold guided by Carlosâ hand and you were already perceiving a mutual tenderness none of you anticipated nor searched for, and which you now couldnât let go of even if you tried. After chuckling to each other at the miserable sight of your emptied glasses, you both agreed to order a second round of cocktails, which flowed effortlessly down your throats as a sweet-toned conversation left your tongues. You learned about his passion for most sports, laughing and being entertained by his anecdotes, only to feel flustered by his sudden questions about you.
Finally, after staring satisfied and content at each other, Carlos asked for the bill, which he insisted on paying. Waiting for it, you hummed to the music playing inside the cozy lounge bar. He frowned, clearly amused. ÂŤDo you like this song?Âť he asked. ÂŤOf course I do? Who doesnât?Âť You light-heartedly mouthed him smooth operator as Sadeâs voice sang the chorus, moving along to the beat. Carlos couldnât stray his eyes away from your enchanting figure and acknowledged how smitten he had already become after only a casual talk. He honestly wouldnât believe you were only searching for a good time as he was. Apart from looking desperately beautifully young, you had a cheerful glee in your manners, a youthful spark inside your eyes which lured him in way more than he wouldâve liked. He had given up on his wicked intents as soon as you had cheered him down the street with your flustered smile; he had been soft and warm for you already before sitting at your booked table. He had enjoyed talking with you more than heâd had with any past fling. He could tell you were someone different, someone to be treated with care, somehow; and the biggest surprise was that he didnât mind at all undertaking such a delicate task.
After paying the bill, Carlos got up right away, implicitly inviting you to do the same. ÂŤCome, I want to show you a place.Âť Taking your sunglasses in your fingers and lightly fidgeting with them, a smile still lingered on your lips from the thrill of conversation. ÂŤWhere?Âť Carlos grinned, placing his hand on yours to stop the nervous work on the Ray Banâs temples. ÂŤDo you trust me?Âť His touch sent your whole body in trance and sudden anticipation of further exposure all at once, like a rush. Was it okay to trust a stranger? And on top of that, a devilishly handsome one? Was it okay to let him guide you God knows where in a foreign country with the darkness of the night approaching? You nodded. ÂŤYes.Âť ÂŤLetâs go, then.Âť And with a swift move, he took the sunglasses out of your loosened grab, wearing them on, leaving you breathless as the thicker frame fitted his masculine features stunningly.
The botanical garden was barely ten minutes away from The Regent, making it pleasant to walk under the setting sun of Miami. To your surprise, some areas of the garden were empty, so that your quiet stroll with Carlos felt like an intimate travel in astonishing oases of peace, silence and chirping birds, drowned in the relaxing green of leaves. You walked alongside, so close and so slow that your hands were always on the verge of touching, until you both naturally reached to the other and sealed them in a secure hold. You smiled, buzzing with warmth. As sun rays cut through the leaves and chased your figures, you couldnât help but be caught in staring at Carlosâ glowing skin while he was talking. ÂŤHave you ever been to Spain?Âť ÂŤNo, never.Âť you shook your head. ÂŤYou need to come, for sure. The weather is even better than Florida.Âť His genuine, happy grin made one burst on your face too, suddenly blinded by a sun beam. ÂŤYou should visit Monaco, then.Âť you replied with pride. ÂŤYou mean the Principality?Âť ÂŤYes. I live there.Âť ÂŤToo bad Iâve already planned to move there months ago.Âť You stared at him, shook. How many chances were there? ÂŤAnd now that I know you live there, Iâve got another good reason to hurry up.Âť You eye rolled, flustered, brushing your upper arms in a poor attempt to dust off the cozy, warm feelings blooming in your chest. ÂŤCanât wait.Âť you murmured, smiling.
Abruptly, Carlos stopped as you were crossing a small wooden bridge inside the garden, facing you and gazing low to your intertwined fingers. The soft rocking sound of water and the inebriating smell of night descending on Florida slowed the flow of time. ÂŤI, uhm⌠Iâm going to be one hundred percent honest with you.Âť he began. ÂŤI really like you. This is the most fun Iâve had with someone without having to get naked since a long time.Âť Carlos kept caressing your fingers with his, flickering his eyes back and forth from yours to your hands. ÂŤI know that you probably expected something different from tonightâŚÂť ÂŤNo, it was perfect.Âť you stepped in. ÂŤIndeed, it was.Âť Carlos smiled, still shyly looking down. ÂŤBut my job makes me really busy. As much as Iâd like to spend more days with you and enjoy moments together, Iâm constantly travelling across the world and⌠I donât want you to think I donât care.Âť ÂŤI wasnât-Âť ÂŤAnd I donât want to force you to follow me everywhere I go, especially because we both would be exposed to the media and⌠I guess weâre both tired of it.Âť ÂŤWe⌠we donât need to go at full speed. We can try to keep in contact the times you are available. Thereâs no rush.Âť you suggested, leaning a bit nearer.
Only then you realized how close you had got, Carlosâ starry eyes boring into yours. ÂŤDonât you feel an urge?Âť he asked, husky. ÂŤI think I do.Âť you simply managed to breathe out, a bit shaky. ÂŤBut I have no problems in waiting, and weâll meet up whenever-Âť It rained on your mouth, a waterfall of bliss and honey through the touch of his plump lips: instead of releasing a pent-up tension, it sharpened the yearn, hands searching for a place of belonging and rest on your respective bodies. ÂŤIâll text you every day.Âť he said in between the kiss. ÂŤDonât make promises you canât keep.Âť you chuckled. ÂŤI always keep my word. Youâll learn to know me.Âť ÂŤSuch a lover boy.Âť you whispered, leaning in for another kiss.
>> 2 new messages from Lando so did you hook up? > hottest man alive, but we only kissed lame >> 2 new messages from Chiliđś
look whoâs with me
You gaped, an immediate grin spreading on your lips.
guess when youâre seeing them again
ÂŤY/n, can you help me with the vegetables? Charles and Alex are going to be here any minute!Âť ÂŤYes, mom, Iâm coming.Âť
> omg have you planned something? you bet >> 1 new message from Lando donât tell me youâre down for him already     > i am, plus weâre seeing again woah what happened to the whole âIâm never going to date again PERIODâ?     > disappeared as soon as I met him ⼠gross send me a pic of him rn
ÂŤY/n?Âť ÂŤIâm coming!Âť you said loudly, finally getting up the couch and walking towards the kitchen, eyes still glued to your phone.
>> 1 new message from Chiliđś and what about you? Â Â Â Â > what?
ÂŤHere you are! Take this, cut these carrots, please.Âť
have you planned anything for me?
Pascale sighed as she was still handing the knife to you.
    > you bet
ÂŤNever mind.Âť ÂŤNo, mom, Iâll do it, give me the knife!Âť you whined, stuffing your phone in your pocket. She immediately smiled at you, a glint of curiosity and mischief not going unnoticed to your trained eye. ÂŤWho was it?Âť she chirped. ÂŤLando.Âť ÂŤOh, how is he doing?Âť ÂŤGood.Âť Your phone buzzed as new notifications popped in, wearing your nerves so thin you had to quickly take it out the pocket and put it on silent. ÂŤEager to talk to you, uh?Âť ÂŤWhat?Âť you rapidly turned your head to her. ÂŤLando. Itâs him texting you, right?Âť You didnât know, but something told you your cheeks were flushed, indeed, that they had been all along since you had stepped next to the kitchen counter. A picture. What if Lando could recognize Carlos, being into sports more than you were? What if Carlos didnât want to be shown around, after the privacy talk you had shared?
>> 1 new message from Lando want to judge myself     > gatekeeping his beauty from your unholy mind > sorry
>>âĽ<<
During lunch, you stayed pretty much silent, always taking the chance to clear plates and bring them to the sink so that you could check your phone, unnoticed.
please tell me youâre free this weekend i organized everything, youâre going to love it
You stared at the bottom of the sink.
itâll be just us no paparazzi shit
Plopping an apricot on the pottery fruit basket, you glanced outside the window above the sink, a line of gray clouds aligned at the horizon, casting a dark shadow onto Monacoâs corner of sea.
You placed the pottery full of fruits in the middle of the dining table and took a seat. Charles swiftly grabbed an apple and unapologetically gave it a big bite, making everyone chuckle at his antics. Everyone, but you. ÂŤSoâŚÂť he said, still chewing. ÂŤReady for Sunday? The forecast says itâs going to be sunny all day.Âť ÂŤCan we ride watercrafts this time? I donât want to lay on the deck for twelve hours.Âť Arthur chimed in. ÂŤYes, of course.Âť Charles nodded, taking another bite. ÂŤBut Iâd do that in the afternoon, when the sun isnât too bright.Âť ÂŤDeal. We need to organize a watercraft race!Âť ÂŤI know, right? What about-Âť ÂŤI donât think Iâm coming.Âť Charles, who was seated right in front of you, stopped chewing and gave you an expressionless glance. ÂŤWhy not?Âť ÂŤI think I got a sunburn in Miami and I donât want it to get worse.Âť Charlesâ left eyebrow quickly raised in annoyance, then he shook his head to himself. ÂŤI donât believe it, but youâre free to stay home.Âť he said monotone. ÂŤI wonât stay home.Âť you said quiet, but still somehow assertive. At this point, everyone at the table â Lorenzo, Alexandra and Pascale included â were staring at you in anticipation, trying to decipher your words. ÂŤIâm going to Provence for the weekend.Âť Charles scoffed, taking another huge bite out of frustration. ÂŤYouâll spend two days hiding under a rock, then, if you really want to avoid sun exposure there.Âť ÂŤCharlesâŚÂť Pascale tried to warn him. He bored his eyes into yours, so that you read right away his disappointment painted in bold letters. ÂŤSome days I feel like I donât have a sister at all.Âť As your mother scolded him again, you could see drops of venom fall from his lucid lips, as he had stabbed a full syringe of it right in the middle of your chest, which had caused you to abruptly stand up, hands on the table, eyes wide like a mad woman. ÂŤAnd Iâve been feeling without a brother every fucking day of my life, Charles.Âť Lorenzo intercepted your arm as you fled to your room, getting up and chasing you but not fast enough to stop your march; he was met with the cold, white wood of your door like a slap on his face, still pleading you to open it. A simple hiccupped sigh, tears pricking your eyes. Vision blurry, you took your phone.
can we leave earlier than Saturday?
You spent the evening crouched on the bed, feet pressing the duvet, fighting feelings away. It haunted you all at once, as it usually would: breaths would pick up the pace, matching your scattered thoughts, heart beating loud. Lorenzo had knocked on your door several times throughout the evening, while you overheard a constant muffled talk in the living room, sure of the discussion your dramatic departure had ignited. It was still a fresh wound. It still bled through the skin. Never having your father nor your brother aside when it mattered. Lorenzo had tried to suffice, being the eldest; he probably was the only one who had seen you breakdown before, the one able to at least take your loneliness into consideration. Out of all the people in the house, he was the one to patiently check in on you in the darkest hour of the night, knowing youâd be still awake. He was the one who hugged you and hid your sighs with reassurances, among your broken âI canât do itâ, the one to cup your wet cheek while sitting on the bed. As every other night. ÂŤPlease, let me leave this weekend, I donât want to comeâŚÂť you chanted, like a prayer. ÂŤOf course you can go, no one said you canât. Itâs all good.Âť The one to cradle you, to caress your messy hair, to cuddle you to sleep in your twin bed. >>âĽ<<
You landed in Jerez on Thursday, around midday. Crossing the exit of the airport with your suitcase in hand, you got swamped with a wave of heat. Sun shining way too bright for your eyes to keep open, you placed a hand on your forehead, shielding them, so that you could spot Carlosâ car more easily. It was hard; indeed, he hadnât chosen anything fancy like most sportsmen do, but opted for something low-key instead. Once you had caught sight of Carlosâ luscious hair and silhouette at the driving seat, you confidently walked towards the car, quite surprised to see it was barely decent and clean. Without hesitation, you loaded your suitcase and took the passenger seat, throwing an inquisitive glance. ÂŤCouldnât you find anything nicer than this⌠car wreck?Âť He chuckled. ÂŤYouâll see why we need it.Âť In a flash, Carlos leaned over to grab your seatbelt and put it on for you: he seized the chance to linger a few inches from your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. ÂŤI missed you.Âť ÂŤItâs been barely a week!Âť you giggled. Since he still hadnât moved away, you cupped his cheeks and left another quick peck on his lips, being too adorable and handsome not to. ÂŤBut I missed you too.Âť you added, soft. ÂŤThatâs what I wanted to hear.Âť he whispered with a grin. And with that, he finally put on your seatbelt, ready to switch the engine on.
The road was a lonely stripe in the middle of burned-yellow lands, hills and the smallest villages punctuating the view. You pointed out all the Spanish flags you could see, amused, letting your arm wander in the warm air outside the window. After more or less an hour of travelling from the airport, when the street started to get uphill and quite bumpy, you rapidly understood Carlosâ vehicle choice. ÂŤWhere are we going?Âť you beamed. ÂŤBe patient, weâre almost there.Âť You reached a crossroads: you could either keep driving uphill or follow down a path on foot. Carlos parked the car in the small space available before the fork. ÂŤCâmon, letâs go.Âť he gestured. ÂŤBut weâre in the middle of nowhere!Âť you protested, getting out of the car. Carlos opened the trunk and took your suitcase, snatching it before you could even imagine carrying it yourself. ÂŤAnd what do you think this is?Âť You raised your eyes up to the point he indicated and your jaw dropped: right at the side of the crossroads, there was a beautiful one-store small villa, with huge glass windows and a skillfully-made path of stones leading up to the entrance door. The white tint of the walls gave a sense of freshness and broadness, paired up with the same simplicity achieved through its squared forms. Carlos approached the small gate, taking a pair of keys from his pocket. ÂŤIs it for us?Âť you asked, dumbfounded. ÂŤOf course.Âť he stated matter-of-factly. Still struck by the beauty of the landscape â the sea roaring behind your back, the hill dominating it from above â you hurried up behind Carlos, following the stoned path.
ÂŤWeâre staying here because this way weâre closer to the beach and to another place Iâll show you on Sunday.Âť ÂŤGood, because I almost only packed swimwear, as youâve told me.Âť You both chuckled. Eyes still wandering around the room, enamored with the designing choices â warm and light tones both for the wallpaper and the furniture â you then ultimately placed your stare back on Carlosâ towering figure, inevitably feeling a burst of excitement and thrill. Before you could move an inch closer to him, he cleared his throat. ÂŤCome, Iâll show you the rest of the house.Âť The shower in the bathroom made you want to strip naked and immediately get the best out of its luxury: black stones, golden details, a small basket full of products only awaiting usage; a huge mirror above the modern-styled sink. ÂŤIâm going to spend hours in here, Iâm telling you.Âť you said, still in awe. Carlos laughed whole-heartedly. ÂŤI canât blame you.Âť You then walked into the bedroom, first noticing the king-sized bed; then, a huge, curtained glass window caught your attention, pushing you to get close and unveil the breathtaking scenery concealed behind it. ÂŤThatâs the beach weâll go to.Âť Carlos said, still standing at the door frame. You turned your head to him, lips slightly parted. ÂŤCarlos, this is⌠Itâs incredible, thank you so much.Âť He walked over to you, smiling in delight, guiding you back into the sightseeing pose with his hands, gently. ÂŤThanks to you for accepting.Âť he said, low-toned. Maybe it was Mayâs bright sun making heat creep up your cheeks, or maybe it was Carlosâ touch on your burning skin; maybe you hadnât lied to Charles when you had said you had got a burn in Miami, a severe one, something not to overlook, because Carlos was drowning you in explosive helium, and the same reckless rush had ignited you both, bringing you under the hot sky of Spain. And now that you were hypnotized by his overwhelming presence, you could only search for his eyes in the reflection of the window, gulping as you noticed he was doing the exact same. The vision of his fingers dancing on your skin hit you deeper than the mere tactile perception, as if you had just become aware of the tantalizing movement on your arm. You saw Carlosâ face fade away from the reflection and felt suddenly naked, deprived of his touch. As an immediate reaction, you turned around to keep looking at him, something you couldnât do without anymore. ÂŤAs you can see, thereâs only one bed. If you donât feel comfortable sleeping togetherâŚÂť ÂŤNo, Carlos, of course I want to sleep with you.Âť you blurted out in a rush, only to mentally facepalm for the unintended pun. He smirked, both amused and finding your embarrassment endearing. ÂŤHappy to know that.Âť
>>âĽ<<
There was something that either you had miscalculated or that Carlos had carefully taken into consideration while organizing the trip, something you hadnât thought about while packing your favorite swimsuits and bikinis, alongside sarongs and summer dresses: that youâd be both almost completely naked, all day. After spending the morning in the cool, crystal-clear water, during the hottest hours you would drop back home to eat something on the fly â and change into a dry swimsuit â, then running back to the beach in the afternoon to walk hand in hand âtil the sun set on the fine sand of the shore.
The first day was a nightmare. You both felt a rush of electricity run through you whenever youâd touch by chance, while swimming in the waves or passing a towel to the other; you were always feasting on each otherâs bodies, almost shamelessly, driven by exasperation; youâd obsessively remind each other to wear sunscreen, so that you could either give help with spreading it over or enjoy oneâs hands doing what the otherâs craved. The only relief to the unbearable closeness was a profound, endless, affectionate conversation. Answers, follow-up questions, anecdotes, some common trivia about each other; youâd say the yearn for the physical was only a manifestation of a deeper emotional longing.
And thatâs how, on the first day of vacation, you ended up looking at the soft reddish waves of sea calmly settling a layer of foam on the shore, both sitting on the sand as Carlos hugged you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. You shut your eyes, impressing the beauty of the evening breeze and the sight in your memory, while Carlos pressed his lips at the base of your neck. ÂŤYou still havenât told me which sport you practice.Âť you murmured. ÂŤBasically any sport, you name it.Âť ÂŤAre you a decathlon athlete?Âť you smiled. Carlos looked at you with a raised brow. ÂŤYou really want to know, uh?Âť ÂŤAm I right?Âť ÂŤNo, but thanks for trying.Âť he smirked. ÂŤWhy canât you tell me?Âť Carlos paused, and it was his time to gaze at the distance, enjoying the peaceful view of the horizon. ÂŤI just want to keep you out of it as long as I can. Always around the world, people watching every single move and invading your privacy, pictures and video you canât prevent from leakingâŚÂť he tsked. ÂŤThis isnât what I want for us. I mean, look at us now: no expectations, no hectic lifestyle, no rush. Weâre alone, we have nothing else but each other.Âť You nodded in small movements, almost to yourself. ÂŤMy brother is almost never home. Heâs been involved in the sport since he was a kid and already when he was a teen heâd be nowhere near Monaco.Âť Carlos rubbed your back as you talked. ÂŤDid you feel alone?Âť ÂŤNot really, no. Iâve got two other brothers.Âť ÂŤPlease, donât tell me theyâre all older than you.Âť You smiled at his tone, giggling at his little âoh noâŚâ as he realized it was the case. ÂŤBut apart from gradually growing distant from my brother, the thing that Iâll never be able to forgive is that my dad was always with him. Because of him, I lost both a brother and a father.Âť Trying to drown out the tingling feelings of hurt failed as Carlos encircled you with his arms, pressing his lips on your temple in a tender kiss. You swallowed hard before carrying on. ÂŤSo⌠If anything, Iâm more scared of not being allowed in every part of your life.Âť you made eye contact with him. ÂŤAnd we would still have each other, no matter what.Âť Tacitly thanking you for sharing your feelings, Carlos kissed you briefly before settling back his head on your shoulder. ÂŤWhen you texted me you wanted to leave earlier, I was happy like a little kid.Âť You grinned, eyes veiled with sadness. ÂŤYeah, I couldnât wait.Âť Carlos gently grabbed your chin with his fingers, demanding eye contact back again: you soon dropped it, as Charlesâ poisonous words still rang in your ears. ÂŤI wanted to run away.Âť you confessed, then resting your head onto your buckled knees, gazing at the sea. ÂŤDid something happen?Âť Carlos asked, soft, rubbing your back in soothing motions. ÂŤNothing new. Itâs always the same.Âť He leaned in to meet your eyes again, his hand still resting on your back. ÂŤNot today. Itâs us, now.Âť
After hours of fast-paced teasing, the way your lips met in a kiss was slow, intimate; he brushed your hair with unexpected tenderness while deepening the kiss, getting to taste more of the sweetness he had drunk. ÂŤItâs just us.Âť he whispered again, tilting his head on the opposite side.
A soft wind rolled shivers on your skin as much as his hands settling on your waist and gently squeezing it did; heart about to burst out of your chest, you pressed both your hands on his cheeks, to keep him steady on you, not to let go of the sweet pleasure of closeness. It was only you and him on the beach, as the sun sank in the sea to let you two enjoy each otherâs embrace: Carlos had spread one hand on your back, radiating a warm tingling feeling in your stomach as he slowly guided you to lie down on the bath towel beneath you. Despite the thought having lingered in the air, untold, for long, you couldnât let yourself be bothered by where the night was leading, too pleasantly overwhelmed by his swift and yet careful moves.
Only when Carlos grazed your neck and you were lulled by his sharp inhales and his fanning breath over you, only when the bulge of his damp swimsuit involuntarily met your core causing you to grip a curl of his thick hair with your lips parted in bliss, only then you realized he was invading your entire space and driving your senses in tilt with too many feelings to process and to give into. You moaned, helpless, as he brushed over your core once again. Carlos halted, his dark irises contrasting with the white of the sclera even more, as his eyes were wide open; his chest, you noticed, heaved with an impatience that matched your own, electricity running through both your bodies. He had forced himself to stop. What are you waiting for?, a part of him said; and it was the impulsive one, the needy, the greedy, the one which had reached out for you in the Tinder matches only a week ago. The one which had him palming himself while staring at your pictures, anticipating the meeting with lust; the one that almost lost control by breathing in your scent after a few days he hadnât seen you as he put the seatbelt on for you. But then, another part of him had put the hand brake. The one which had felt a soft spot for you when you laughed at the bar listening to his jokes, the one that cherished you like a treasure meant to be preserved pure and rare in its beauty, the one that would hang from your lips and comply with your pace, your desire.
You stared at each other for seconds which seemed eternity; you caught every single movement of Carlosâ body, attentive like a deer observing the predatorâs actions. He wetted his lips, he flicked his eyes elsewhere before being drawn on you, this time with a softer gaze. His scent inebriated you as he leaned towards you, getting so close you could feel your own heart beating on the very edge of your skin, drawn like a magnet to Carlos. The concert of quickened breaths and pants blacked out the distant grating roar of the sea: your rhythm, your frequency, your tune was his to dictate.
As his hot breath signaled how he had got dangerously close to your ear, you kept your fingers intertwined in his hair, your entire body trembling in anticipation. ÂŤI want you.Âť His husky voice sent a violent shiver down your arching back, so deep in desire that your eyelids half-closed, fighting the instinct to push Carlosâ head on your neck to finally unleash his teasing. He had waited, he had thought about keeping you that close since the first time you had seen each other: and still he had refrained from acting on his selfish needs, and he had crafted instead the most alluring trap for you, making it impossible to untangle from him. Not that you wanted to. You didnât know how you had both been able to fall so heavily in love in less than a week, but it had happened out of your notice, and with his tanned torso occupying all your senses â hot and full to the touch, a light veil of his cologne lingering on it despite the sea salt â there was no way to take a step back. Carlos couldnât either. Not with your skin palpitating before his eyes, before his lips, so kissable, so perfectly laid out for him to nibble at, to mark and stain with passion. ÂŤFuck, I need youâŚÂť You were in too deep. Your breath hitched at his husky tone. ÂŤCarlosâŚÂť His lips brushing yours with a circling motion, teasing them with a gut-wrenching delay, he whispered again honey-laced words. ÂŤTell me you want it as much as I do, pleaseâŚÂť
Without time to answer, mumbling another desperate please, he sealed his request with a kiss, which immediately became sloppy and messy due to your impatient bodies pressing onto the other, grabbing, exploring, roaming for pleasure. Lost in the kiss, you couldnât tell whether it was Carlos rubbing his hard-on you or you desperately searching for friction through the damp layers of your swimsuits. However it might be, the result was the same: it had you whining and moaning, feeling the first stone-cold fabric warming through your throbbing cores, once rubbing couldnât soothe the ache anymore. Carlosâ groan told you he felt the same way.
He couldnât wait any more second: his body, mind and soul craved you all at once with the same disrupting force. Looking around, hurriedly rummaging with one hand in the pocket of his dismissed trousers, he sighed in frustration, placing his forehead upon yours. ÂŤI donât have condoms here, for fuckâs sakeâŚÂť he breathed out, a mix of disappointment and apology in his tone. You brushed his cheek, half hiding a smile. ÂŤBut I promise I have them in the house. When we go back-Âť You pressed your pointer finger on his lips to interrupt him. ÂŤIâm on the pill.Âť Carlosâ eyes widened in realization, and despite being pulled by a nosy curiosity as to why you were on birth control, his arousal got the best of him and cut short any feasible matter.
He had captured your lips back in another messy kiss, slow-paced, open-mouthed, and his fingers had immediately rushed to teasingly push down your bottom swimsuit, tracing your folds with the thick wetness he was welcomed by. He growled into the kiss as soon as he noticed how turned on you were, feeling his own cock stir once more inside his swim trunks; with another groan, he left your glistening lips, smirking, and you understood why the moment his digits found your clit. You couldnât control a half-screamed moan. ÂŤNobody can hear us. I want you to be louder, baby.Âť As he rubbed you with his thumb slow and steady, your mind disconnected and stopped working properly: it was just him, his fingers making you mewl and his bulge against your bare thigh.
Carlosâ stare was unbearable: it was so filled with lust you had to stray away not to feel a hotter wave of heat on your reddened cheeks, to shut your eyes in bliss, to look down at his hand disappearing under your bikini. And if only you couldâve sustained his eyes for more than a few seconds, you wouldâve noticed how he was struggling as well. Eight years of age gap. Sure, he still had to turn thirty, but⌠Please, Carlos⌠I need to- GOSH!Âť you cried out. ÂŤUse your words, love. What do you need?Âť Maybe he was rushing it just for his own yearning, without taking you into much consideration. Not even a week after meeting each other for the first time and already hitting the fourth base⌠Fuck, I need your fingers inside⌠Oh, please!Âť you moaned, tilting your head to the side. Or maybe he was simply complying to your desires as well. ÂŤLike this?Âť After all, you had already proved him that you werenât a naĂŻve little girl: your talks, your constant teasing (well thought-out, thanks to your provocative swimsuits), the way you hadnât seem shocked or scared by his maneuvers but, quite the opposite, thrilled and longing for them. You were both on the same wavelength. ÂŤAh, fuck me⌠Fuck!Âť What was he supposed to do now? Now that you were a whimpering mess under his expert fingers, now that he had you right where he had needed you to be since the first moment â below him, legs open for him, nipples tensed and visible under the top of your bikini, begging for your release â, now that he had the green light, it took a while to realize he could go for more without risking being turned down. ÂŤCarlos, pleaseâŚÂť Spaced out, he had raised back on his knees, and you had started panting out of breath at both the sudden lack of contact and at the scene before you, his hands slowly pulling down his trunks. He was taken over by an unexplainable aplomb, moving carefully but surely at the same time, precise as a sniper in brushing your most sensitive spots: his calm had the opposite effect on your body, shaking in desire, swollen and aching, and you gripped his back once he leaned over you, his tip teasing your entrance.
>>âĽ<<
Your second day in southern Spain was spent in Carlosâ arms. Stirring after a night of sleep next to him, mattress and sheets still warm, you had felt his boner pressing on your thigh, as you had cuddled together all night. After exchanging the most adorable sleepy grin with him, you hadnât hesitated to take the matter in your own hands. Neither had Carlos: less than a minute in, frustrated by how poorly he could pleasure you while lying next to you upright, he had quickly ordered you to sit on his face, so that he could grab your thighs, squeeze them tight in place whenever youâd try to shift away from his skillful tongue. He learned you quickly, cracking your bodyâs code after that abundant breakfast in bed; spending yet another morning on Playa de el CaĂąuelo, enjoying the vibrant shades of the sea water, wetting your ankles while sitting on the shore, eyes closed in delight and sunbathing, you didnât expect youâd soon learn his.
At lunch, as usual, you both refuged back in the villa, welcomed by a cooler temperature. While preparing two bowls of salad, you felt a pair of hands sliding on your skin, rolling up your sarong to toy with the two nods holding the bottom of your bikini together. Before you could even realize, the feast had begun, as you moaned his name gripping the marble counter while he thrusted into you with one single stroke. Nibbling, biting and open-mouthed kisses were tell-tale signs of your mutual hunger, which Carlosâ cock satiated by providing you with a sickly-sweet full sensation, your stomach being filled with him. Out of impatience and urge, Carlos had satisfied his own leaning back onto the edge of the kitchen table and dragging you back with him through the firm hold he had on your hips, rocking you back and forth with ease and speed. You were now sure the sunburn had got severe, it had caused a fever: and Carlos was both the rays and the refreshing after-sun lotion, sliding on your skin, penetrating it, nourishing it from within.
>>âĽ<<
The surprise he had warned you about came on Sunday late afternoon. ÂŤReady for a walk?Âť He had waited for the heat to be less intense, making it pleasant to stroll undisturbed hand in hand on a dirt path next to Playa de el CaĂąuelo, which went up the hill, amongst the bushes. From up there, you looked back to the beach and caught a magnificent glimpse of the view: the sea seemed even broader and distant, roaring onto the shore. Carlos stopped with you to enjoy the sight, reading into your sparkling eyes. ÂŤLetâs go, weâre almost there.Âť
You had been walking roughly for ten minutes, when you reached a crossing: the dirt left room to a wooden walkway with railing, leading back down to the jagged coast. ÂŤEste es el Faro de Camarinal.Âť ÂŤThis is what?Âť you giggled. ÂŤFaro means lighthouse.Âť Holding hands and playing push and pull like two kids, you stared at Carlosâ lips closely as to replicate the Spanish words rolling off them, since he was determined to teach them to you. ÂŤFaster, now.Âť ÂŤI canât! Itâs impossible, youâre too quick.Âť ÂŤTry.Âť You both chuckled at each other, taken over by exhilaration for no particular reason but closeness. ÂŤFaro⌠Faro de Marinal?Âť ÂŤCamarinal.Âť ÂŤFaro de Camarinal.Âť Grinning at you, he let go of one of your hands to guide you towards the lighthouse once again, letting your steps resonating through the wooden boards. ÂŤBetter. You improve very quickly.Âť ÂŤAre you planning on teaching Spanish to me already?Âť You both stopped in front of an old metallic door at the base of the lighthouse, on which a sign hung off: prohibido el paso. ÂŤYou know me so well and yet it hasnât even been a month since weâve met.Âť ÂŤYou make it sound like itâs a bad thing.Âť ÂŤIt just amazes me.Âť he looked at you. ÂŤYou amaze me.Âť The orange glow of the sunset warmed your cheeks, forcing you to suppress a smile after hearing Carlosâ comment. ÂŤLetâs go.Âť ÂŤBut we canât. Isnât this a prohibition sign?Âť ÂŤIt is. But nobody ever comes here and itâs completely safe to go inside.Âť He then proceeded to open the door, which was loosely closed, and invited you to step in, offering his hand to you given your reticence.
After carefully going upstairs being wary of any danger, you came at the top panting a bit, but the view managed to leave you wholly breathless: the sea, the glimmering of the distant waves due to the sun diving in and swimming in the golden water. ÂŤI used to come here when I was a kid.Âť ÂŤDid you come to this beach during holidays?Âť ÂŤYes. This was the refuge Iâd run to when my mom showed up to tell me we had to go back home.Âť You lowered your gaze and smirked, hit by the tenderness of the memory. ÂŤIs this a way to say you wish this trip didnât end today?Âť ÂŤIt is. And I also wanted to show you my favorite spot in Spain.Âť
You both engaged in sightseeing, Carlos hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder for a while, as he had grown accustomed to doing in those three days; you brushed his arms as he enveloped your waist, feeling cozy and happy in the embrace. Softly, gently, like a dance, he reached for the ribbon of your white swim dress and began undoing it, while you both imperceptibly moved your bodies to the rhythm of your hands. ÂŤThis swimsuit is the best youâve brought on this trip.Âť Carlos whispered in your ear. ÂŤGlad you like it⌠It was meant to be my small surprise for you.Âť ÂŤLet me unwrap it so that I can get my real surprise, thenâŚÂť
ÂŤAnd then what happened?Âť ÂŤLan. You know what happened.Âť
You paced back and forth inside your bedroom, grinning wide as if Lando could ever see the sparkling magic in your eyes as you were telling him minute by minute everything about the sweet romanticism that had gone down during the trip. He had called you because he knew would like to vent and extenuate him with every single detail of that perfect, dreamy vacation. ÂŤOf course I do, but I want you to embarrassedly say it out loud so that you know how down bad you are.Âť You heavily sighed, knowing he was smirking by the tone of his voice. ÂŤOkay.Âť You licked your lips, biting your lower lip as the memories hit you. ÂŤWe made love.Âť ÂŤOh, wow, made love? Please, youâll talk to me about making love when youâre an elder or something.Âť You chuckled, too embarrassed to reply with anything else. ÂŤSo⌠I guess it was good.Âť Lando said. ÂŤIt was out of this planet. It was dizzying, and he was just⌠perfect.Âť ÂŤDid he make you cum?Âť he quickly added. ÂŤLANDO!Âť you gaped, eyes bewildered. ÂŤâm just asking.Âť Sitting down on your bed, fingers fidgeting with a loosened thread of the comforter, your thoughts kept swimming in the sea of those recalled moments. You couldnât help but realize that with Carlos everything had spiraled out of control. From complete strangers to lovers in a week. And the scariest thing to acknowledge was that it felt right, all along. Like puzzle pieces, you fitted seamlessly and now that you both had tangled up, there was no chance of ripping: you would text each other every other hour, hoping new opportunities to hang out together would arise, longing for connection after having discovered your new favorite pastime was looking in the eyes and talk. The mere thought of the proximity you had experienced warmed your cheeks again. ÂŤYes, he did. Multiple times, if youâre interested!Âť ÂŤWeird that you think Iâm interested, but okay.Âť Lando giggled. ÂŤGlad to hear youâre happy, though.Âť ÂŤYeah, I just feel at ease around him.Âť
The line fell silent for a couple of seconds, giving you time to elaborate the sentence through a soft grin, head lowered. ÂŤGosh, I think I love this man!Âť ÂŤMan? Is he old?Âť he laughed. ÂŤNo, heâs just a bit older than me. But heâs so youthful as well! Lan, Iâm doomed.Âť you facepalmed. ÂŤSeems like you are, yeah.Âť
You paused once again, not really sure how to continue the conversation and pondering whether you should add anything in your detailed report to Lando. You heard him humming briefly, signaling he wanted to speak up again. ÂŤWhen⌠When will you see each other again?Âť As soon as Lando ended the question, your fingers harshly twisted the thread they had been holding, while you were still looking down at the bed. ÂŤI donât know⌠heâs busy this week, and Iâm coming to Imola with Charles, so definitely not as soon as weâd like.Âť ÂŤWell, you should invite him to Monaco for the Grand Prix, if heâs free. Heâs a sportsman, he would enjoy it.Âť ÂŤInvite him so that you can pester him with questions and my whole family can disapprove of both him and me? Or you want us to get caught in a storm of paparazzi and twitter threads of how irresponsible Leclercâs little defenseless sister is?Âť Lando tsked and you could almost see his brows knitting in frustration. ÂŤDonât try to steal my job and make it a big deal when things are that simple. You love each other? Yes. Then no one can say a thing. But even if you two were just fucking around, I meanâŚÂť he paused. ÂŤYou should be free to hang out with whoever. Itâs nobodyâs business.Âť ÂŤIt isnât only about me, Lan⌠I think he would get in bigger trouble than I would. It seems like in his sport everything is blown out of proportion.Âť ÂŤA man who understands the struggle.Âť Lando added, bittersweet. ÂŤBut what is all this secrecy anyway? I donât trust someone who canât even tell you what he does for a living.Âť ÂŤLan, I just could tell he was being honest⌠Plus, he really looks like an athlete.Âť ÂŤAnd couldnât you tell which sport he practices by his body shape?Âť ÂŤNo, heâs really fit overall, thereâs no prominent feature.Âť you shook your head. ÂŤHe told me that he loves cycling, but usually riders have a smaller frame, right? I have no clue, Lan.Âť ÂŤGuess you just love some mystery man, donât you?Âť Lando was grinning, you could tell. ÂŤWell, I havenât told him everything about me either, so itâs only fairâŚÂť you breathed out. ÂŤIâm so scared of his reaction when he finds out about my familyâŚÂť ÂŤYou make it sound like youâre the daughter of an Italian mafia boss.Âť ÂŤYou know what I mean by thatâŚÂť ÂŤYeah, I do. And you know that I think itâs silly.Âť You paused, gaze still down, in reflection. ÂŤItâs going to be fine. Stop overthinking, you little muppet.Âť
>>âĽ<<
Earphones plugged in, you scrolled through some of the pics you had taken with Carlos on Playa de el CaĂąuelo only a couple of days earlier. The sand between your toes, the warm breeze, the sun kissing your skin already felt like a thin memory and the moments, the touches you had shared with Carlos desperately ghostly.
Laying in bed at night, the apartment become quieter compared to the chatter of the dinner you had had with your family, you had been unable, despite vainly trying, to keep your mind off your little escapade. You had, therefore, found yourself stumbling upon some stolen shots of him, shirtless, hair wet and shiny, drops of water sliding on his tanned skin. You could anticipate its warmth, because you had felt it; you could almost evoke his fingers tracing your body with gentleness and precision, making you gasp. Loosening your muscles in delight, you swiftly slipped your right hand under your leggings and underwear, giving relief to your core through friction and light touches.
Carlosâ absence had left a void which you found unbearably underwhelming: love-bombing for three days had got you used to his ways, to his constant physical touch â which, you figured, was probably his favorite love language, since he couldnât stray his hands away from your body â and now that you were laying in a single-size and empty bed, mind full of hopes and desires, you coped as you could, shutting your eyes and trying to reproduce Carlosâ skilled movements with your fingers, gradually increasing the pace, biting your lip as not to let out a single noise. I want you to be louder, baby. You knew that if Carlos were there, he would rub you hard enough to make you cry and beg out loud for more; he would not care of your brothers resting in their rooms only a couple of meters away and he would pay no attention but to you only, sucking on every corner of your breast, down in your inner thighs, leaving a trail of kisses to reach your-
SâĽO is calling . . . Decline <-  -> Answer
You nearly yelped as you felt your left hand vibrate because of the call. Heart pounding out of your chest, partly because of the unexpected call, partly because you were in the middle of something, you hurriedly swiped to answer. ÂŤHola, baby!Âť ÂŤHi.Âť Carlos, who at first wasnât looking at the screen in order to get comfortable on a beanbag chair, raised a brow: you had spoken so low your greeting was almost inaudible, your room barely lit by a table lamp. ÂŤWhy are you whispering?Âť ÂŤMy brothers are in the rooms next to mine, I canât make too much noise.Âť ÂŤHavenât told them about me yet?Âť he smirked. ÂŤNo. They can be a bit protective.Âť ÂŤWell, then tell them not to open their socials on the⌠22nd of May.Âť You frowned, taken aback. ÂŤWhat happens...?Âť ÂŤI talked to my management, and I settled everything for us to go public with our relationship. That weekend Iâll be in Monaco for a competition, so I thought there was no better occasion.Âť
You stared at the screen, brain racing at two hundred miles an hour: Charles had asked you to be with him for the race, but it didnât mean you were obliged to stay attached to his hips every single second. And even if you had to skip some sessions, nothing was more deserving of your time than to keep close to Carlos, support him and stick with him in such a delicate moment for him and for you both. It wasnât even a question. ÂŤIf youâre okay with it, of course.Âť Carlos added, an enquiring look on his face. ÂŤUh? Yes! Of course, I meanâŚÂť you sighed. ÂŤMy brother asked for my presence at one of his races but heâs in Monaco too, so Iâll be running to you whenever I can, I promise. Iâd desert completely him for you, but I canât.Âť ÂŤI see.Âť Carlos nodded small to himself. ÂŤHe must love you a lot to ask you to be with him every time.Âť ÂŤHeâs been pretty insistent since Miami.Âť you smiled. ÂŤWhy? Did you bring him good luck?Âť he smirked, raising a brow. ÂŤHmm⌠Yeah, kind of.Âť you said, thinking of the podium picture Lando had sent you with Charles spraying champagne in the background.
Carlos sank deeper into the beanbag sack, keeping silent. ÂŤWhat?Âť you asked at his reaction, still trying to keep your volume low. ÂŤCanât believe I need to thank him for having met you in Miami.Âť ÂŤBad thing, uh?Âť ÂŤYep, because I can just sense that once you introduce me as your boyfriend heâll turn into a cockblocker.Âť At first, you giggled at his comic frustration and at the â probably true â assumption he had made; then your attention landed on the deeper meaning of the sentence and lingered on its last word, that had your core throb suddenly. You hadnât stop slowly and lazily rubbing yourself, almost unconsciously, staring at Carlos spread out on the sack chair, and you definitely found it impossible not to keep touching when he represented such a strong and influential visual clue to your yearning. ÂŤAre you good?Âť Carlosâ voice woke you up from your trance: not sure about what to do or say, feeling once again near your release, you leaned your head on the pillow. ÂŤI⌠Please, donât judge me.Âť you whispered in plead. ÂŤOf course I wonât. Whatâs the matter?Âť ÂŤI was⌠I amâŚÂť you bit your lower lip, frowning as you felt the jolt of pleasure approaching. ÂŤâŚmasturbating to you. I miss you.Âť Carlos grinned affectionately at those words, finally able to interpret the subtle twitch of your shoulder he had been quite distracted by all along. ÂŤI miss you too, love. And thereâs nothing to be ashamed of.Âť The hoarseness of his voice. Your core clenched around nothing just by him talking. ÂŤAre you close?Âť His tone had turned almost serious, consequently lower; you nodded through whines, at this point quite failing at the proposition of keeping absolutely silent. ÂŤWanted to make a mess on the sheets before even going to bed? Wanted your brothers to walk in on you while screaming my name, uhm? Like you did on the beach while riding my cock, you remember that?Âť Only a couple of sentences and you were over the edge. You pressed your lips together, keeping your fingers on your clit to enjoy its throbbing and the riding out of your orgasm, wishing itâd never end. ÂŤFuck, Iâd like to be there on the bed next to you.Âť Carlos sighed, almost talking to himself. ÂŤFeel better, now?Âť ÂŤFeel amazing.Âť you breathed out. ÂŤIâm really sorry we canât hang out until next week.Âť ÂŤItâs not your fault, Carlos. Weâll manage.Âť you reassured him.
As you leaned forward, sitting on the bed and seemingly about to get up, Carlos mimicked you on his beanbag chair. ÂŤDo you need to go?Âť he asked. ÂŤIâll go clean up and then straight to bed.Âť you smiled. ÂŤWhat about you?Âť ÂŤI wanted to go to bed too, but I think Iâll need to take care of my boner first.Âť You covered your mouth to prevent your giggles from echoing louder in your room. ÂŤSorry!Âť ÂŤDonât worry, I was already pretty hard when I saw you in pajamas on the bed, soâŚÂť ÂŤSo?Âť ÂŤSo stop teasing me any further!Âť he laughed. ÂŤGood night, y/n.Âť ÂŤSweet dreams, lover boy.Âť you joked with a fond smile on your lips.
>>âĽ<<
Exiting the bathroom after cleaning up, you decided to go grab a glass of water in the kitchen, still flushed by the steam of the situation.
Moving in the dark only helped momentarily by the whitish light of the fridge, knowing every centimeter of the house like the back of your hand, you startled as the light was switched on. ÂŤOh, didnât see you.Âť Charles seemed genuinely surprised to find you there, pulling a sheepish smile while getting close to the fridge. ÂŤI was thirsty.Âť you said, taking a sip from your newly filled glass. ÂŤYeah, me too.Âť he said, grabbing from the fridge the bottle you had just put back in.
You gripped the counter with your free hand, wishing to escape him as soon as possible, but he was quick to pour himself a glass and join you alongside the marble. The glass against your skin felt as cold as the silence falling on you both. Growing embarrassed, you glanced at him, drawing his own interest on you. ÂŤYour cheeks are bright red⌠Are you okay? Do you feel like you have a fever?Âť As Charles leaned over to you, full of concern and thoughtfulness â too unexpected and unwelcome, if coming from him â, threatening to touch your skin as to prove the temperature of its surface, you flinched backwards, avoiding him. ÂŤNo, Iâm fine! I⌠Guess I should change the duvet, itâs still the wintery one.Âť He raised a brow in a quick, frustrated move. ÂŤIsnât it the sunburn?Âť he asked, sharp. Sunken. Guilt pervaded you, head to toe. ÂŤOh, uhm⌠No, I donât think so.Âť you stood in silence. ÂŤCharles, the sunburn was just a lieâŚÂť ÂŤI know.Âť On pins and needles, you waited patiently for him to carry on, knowing there was more when he turned around to face you. ÂŤWhere did you go?Âť ÂŤTo Provence, I told you.Âť you sipped. ÂŤYou flew off the country.Âť Charles kept staring at you with a knowing look, waiting for an answer. ÂŤFreak, canât even trust LorenzoâŚÂť you snorted. ÂŤHe told me he accompanied you to the airport.Âť ÂŤFine.Âť you took another sip. ÂŤI was in Spain.Âť Charles nodded to himself. ÂŤDid you go with anyone?Âť ÂŤNo, I was alone. Last minute decision.Âť ÂŤI see.Âť
Charles retreated, thoughtful, staring at the bottom of his glass. Had you always been this distant? Had he ever had you closer than this? One step away, about to graze you if he only reached out, and still miles away from each other. Sometimes he wondered if he couldâve done anything not to splinter the relationship between the two of you: instead of blaming himself, he took it out with fate, destiny, whoever had decided that his only passion in life would make him hop on planes all over the world, putting most of his relationships at risk. But what if it had been him all along? What if he couldâve done something to prevent it? What if not keeping in touch with you enough was a burden placed on his shoulders only? ÂŤIâm⌠Iâm sorry for what I said, last week. Youâre free to choose who to hang out with, but I was frustrated. I never get to see you all often and you deliberately cancelling the rare time Iâm here got me mad. Sorry.Âť ÂŤWe were both petty. Itâs fine, Chaâ.Âť You werenât his little sister anymore. You had suddenly turned into an adult, and it was unbelievably hard for him to acknowledge that he couldnât treat you like a baby anymore, that you could have different plans and willing. Separate lives; nothing but a surname, a roof and a hurtful past shared between the two.
Despite Imola not being particularly sunny on Thursday morning, you decided to shield your sight with the sunglasses Carlos had stolen and given back to you in Spain. As if it wasnât a clear enough sign of your unavailability to pictures, interviews and any type of approach, you kept your eyes glued to the phone engaging in a way more interesting pastime than looking at a crowded paddock.
> I hate it already and Iâve been here for barely ten seconds lol I know, without me any place is boring
You grinned.
> unfortunately true 𼲠> how are things there? crowded and busy my first task begins literally now Iâll text you later ⼠    > love you âĽ
You huffed, putting your phone down. ÂŤY/n, right?Âť You scrutinized head to toe the woman dressed in red who had got closer to you, quickly guessing she could be a media manager by the obsessive worry she held her phone with. ÂŤYes.Âť ÂŤGood! Charles asked us to give you a garage tour, so youâll be joining the one we reserve for our guests, which starts in a few minutes. Please, follow me!Âť
Annoyed beyond comprehension, wondering why in the world your brother had decided to put you through such a torture â was it vengeance for having missed his family boat day? He was a menace, you had always known. He had told you he was sorry only to let your guards fall down and trick you right after, when you least expected it⌠â, you followed the staff, carelessly strolling in the back corridor of the box, reaching the garage. Too outraged to notice your surroundings, you paid no attention to the words the woman said (something about waiting for the other VIP guests) and wandered around mindless, gazing at the rows of headsets on the wall, some screens and the cars covered by black sheets. Charles had you trapped in his own hamster wheel: the fact that he liked it wasnât a good reason to force you in there as well. You knew nothing about driving and you couldnât care less. Literally, it was a heated discussion topic with Lando as well, because there was nothing attractive to you in risking your life at 300 km/h. Absolutely nothing. Knowing Charles, he had planned your entire day to avoid losing track of you as it had happened in Miami. It wasnât established in your deal. Little shit.
Still fuming at the thought, carefully intending to search a boutique nearby â if any existed in that God forgotten Italian village â and force him to buy the most expensive dress of the lot, you snatched your sunglasses away, not bearing the thought of them being Charlesâ. Phone vibrating in your pocket, you grabbed it and glanced at it.
1 new message from SâĽO love you too
His words melted your rage like snow under the brightest sun: they warmed your whole chest, making a smile linger on your lips. Hearing people talking and walking into the garage, you raised your eyes from the screen; in the process, you involuntarily locked gaze with someone who seemed to be looking in your direction. And you froze. To be fair, you could tell he had been frozen longer than you had and that, in fact, he had caught your attention exactly because he was already standing still the moment you looked around you in the room. Carlosâ doe eyes were meters away from you, as his body was wrapped in the Ferrari merch you were so used to seeing in your brotherâs wardrobe, standing with his phone in his hands, like you were, lips parted in astonishment and confusion.
An unmistakable laugh emerging from the back of the garage together with the flow of new people put you in alarm, which was justified as soon as Charles strolled casually his way into the box: you immediately looked away from Carlos, terrified that small interaction could ever be caught. As if you could slow down your heart thundering in your chest.
ÂŤWhat are you looking at?Âť Carlos turned his head to Charles, who was leaning on the wall next to him. ÂŤNothing.Âť Why would you be there? You had a VIP pass hanging around your neck. Maybe you had got it thanks to your brother being a famous athlete⌠But he couldnât spot anyone else among the guests around your age who could be your sibling; no one was as beautiful as you, no one even got near your perfection. Did you know? Had you found out he was a F1 driver and decided to surprise him, to confront him? After all, the real mystery was how you hadnât managed to discover it yetâŚ
ÂŤIâm doing the tour, today.Âť Charles plainly said. ÂŤWhat? You never want to.Âť Carlos smiled, knitting brows. Looking at his teammate's casual pose, arms crossed and sunglasses on, chewing on a gum, Carlos suddenly realized something; and he wished he could turn around to compare him to you, as doubts and hypotheses sprung in his mind. ÂŤHello, everyone!Âť But Charles had already gathered and greeted the guests, and Carlos found himself surrounded by mechanics to proceed with the seat fit.
Needless to say, you understood nothing of what Charles said. Hyperaware of your surroundings, you tried to peek at Carlos, who talked to various team people â probably engineers â, then climbed into the cockpit and did checks you couldnât see the purpose of. Charles occasionally threw dimpled smiles to you while speaking, both hoping to entertain you and getting on your nerves, well knowing you couldnât pull a tantrum at his workplace. In five minutes, the activity inside the garage died down: Charles had dismissed you all, and you had glimpsed Carlos getting out of the car. ÂŤNext, youâll visit the hospitality. Follow me, this way!Âť As the same woman you had met earlier gestured to all the guests to form a group behind her, you reluctantly entered the corridor towards the exit, not before glancing back, desperate to see Carlos one last time. You almost gasped as you saw him quickly step towards you, who were then forced to face forward, somehow fearful: you could just feel his silhouette towering yours as he chased you close.
Before you knew it, in the mid of the corridor, he had grabbed your wrist and dragged you inside a small room, shutting the door behind him. What now? You had little to no time to elaborate the situation, to master the catastrophic impact of Carlos being a F1 driver and Charlesâ teammate; putting pieces together, the overall picture still had blurry borders and it shook before your sight. In that fraction of eternity â since meeting Carlos seemed to have halted time â, though, locking gaze with him, you realized a deeper truth. He was in front of you, flesh and bones, body and soul. He was the man you had incoherently fallen in love with in such a short amount of time and whom you couldnât let go. At unison, two listeners tuned into the same radio station and moving to the beat of the same song, you leaned close to each other and you pressed lips upon lips, body upon body. You felt Carlos holding you tight in his embrace, afraid it was only a vision, a fathom, a ghostly appearance, and you clung onto his shoulders stronger to reassure him, since you definitely werenât planning on withdrawing from his touch.
It took long to stop the kiss and get to talking; somehow, you both were always discovering a new corner of lips you craved to tease, to nibble at, to smother with kisses. Once you felt Carlosâ breath hitch and his movements ceased, as he tried to get your attention in order to speak up, you braced yourself for his words. ÂŤWhy are you here?Âť he let out in one breath. ÂŤMy brother⌠the one whoâs an athleteâŚÂť you inhaled. ÂŤThatâs Charles.Âť Carlos spaced out, and you showed him a sympathetic smile while caressing his cheek with fondness. ÂŤYouâre from MonacoâŚÂť ÂŤYep.Âť you kept brushing his skin, appreciating the smoothness of it, able to guess he might have shaved that same morning. ÂŤYou were in Miami for the race, werenât you?Âť You nodded in small movements, waiting for his reaction. ÂŤBut like, how didnât you recognize me? Did you pretend not to know?Âť ÂŤI told you I never went to Charlesâ races. Iâm not interested in F1, Iâve never watched it on tvâŚÂť ÂŤAt least I know it wasnât a lie, thenâŚÂť he leaned his head back, sighing.
There was no way of hiding the hint of fear you felt while biting your lip, examining Carlosâ expressions as they changed rapidly. Through it all, though, he never retreated from your touch, keeping you tight in his arms. ÂŤWhat a messâŚÂť he muttered under his breath. ÂŤHe canât say a thing, itâs not up to him to decide who Iâm dating-Âť ÂŤY/n, there are⌠dynamics that you canât understand. Itâs much more than an overprotective-brother matter.Âť ÂŤThen what is it?Âť ÂŤY/n!Âť Carlos shut his eyes in annoyance as he heard his teammate, your brother, searching and calling for you. ÂŤY/n? Guys, did you see my sister?Âť In mutual agreement, you stared at each other while reluctantly loosening the embrace; taking a sharp breath in, Carlos then placed his hand on the knob and opened the door. ÂŤShe was being nosy in the strategy room. She said she got lost.Âť Without paying too much attention to Carlosâ justifying words, Charles only addressed you. ÂŤGo reach Arthur and mom, weâre having lunch at the hospitality together.Âť You simply nodded, regretfully walking out the garage without sparing a last glance at Carlos, who was then leaning against the door frame. As the Spaniard was about to follow you and exit the box too since his duties were carried out, he felt a hand wrap and drag his arm to prevent him from leaving. ÂŤY/n is my sister.Âť Carlos tried to play it cool and smirked. ÂŤI didnât know anything about her.Âť ÂŤAnd thatâs exactly how itâs supposed to always be.Âť Charles stepped closer to Carlos, never letting his smile falter. ÂŤDonât get near her.Âť Something about his eyes, despite the attempt of coming off as friendly, something feral, almost murderous struck Carlos and left his heart blue, aware that there was nothing he could possibly do to change Charlesâ disposition towards him. At the same time, however, he had to restrain himself from barking at his teammate: Carlos had sisters himself and had experienced protectiveness towards them, but he had never gatekept their existence from the entire world as Charles had done with you. He had never seen a picture of you, never known a younger Leclerc was part of the family⌠Cutting you off from his passion and his job only to then plead you to be a part of his life back again and suddenly dragging you around the world was simply selfish. He could tell why you would always tense up whenever you mentioned your arguments and your lacking relationship with him, and if you knew on which terms Carlos and Charles were, maybe you wouldâve backed him up. Maybe you wouldâve picked his side instead of Charlesâ, as everyone else did.
No one could deny how much Charles was the most liked, protected and favored driver out of the Ferrari pair, and this partiality unluckily showed through divisions inside the team, which no one dared speak about. Mechanics, media staff, engineers: Charles had to be cherished like a baby prince, able to obtain anything, keeping peopleâs hearts wrapped around his fingers, to the point he could throw ultimatums and threat to leave the team and gain, in turn, the dismissal of a team principal with a favorable replacement.Â
Deep down, Carlos knew it was no one but Ferrariâs fault, with the team who had let Charles progressively identifying with the team until losing him would have a tremendous negative impact on the brand, and most of all everyone relied on him for the title championshipâs fight without even considering any other person. They had made him too important, and now they couldnât afford to lose him, even if this meant sacrificing their other driver. They had already signed Hamilton before the season had even started. And that Charles himself didnât like Carlos much, well, signs were between the lines, for the ones who could read them properly. He had beaten Charles in the end of the first year as teammates, though people seemed to forget it. He had secured the only win of the team in the 2023 season, and had replicated it triumphantly in Australia. What did he have to do to shine as bright? What did he have to do to be⌠chosen?
>>âĽ<<
You waited in the interstice between Ferrari and McLarenâs hospitalities, barely hid in the shadow, sunglasses purposely on to avoid crossing gaze with the crowd walking up and down the paddock. Carlos had texted you, saying he would reach you as soon as lunch with the team would be over; on your hand, you had finished eating quite early since you felt no big appetite, sickened by a pounding question. Had you rushed things with Carlos? The question left your mouth dry, your hands clammy. He had seemed too hesitant, too fearful, and at first too slow to commitment, always managing to pull out excuses as to why he wasnât ready to go public. What if it had been a fleeting moment? But how could all of it be a lie? Lying in the sand, limbs intertwined, giggling and whispering slices of life to each other as the sun set down.
A sigh revealed Carlosâ presence aside you. ÂŤIâm going to be brief. Things between me and Charles are a mess, when it comes to dynamics within the team. Itâs not even hate, itâs way more subtle than thatâŚÂť ÂŤItâs competition.Âť ÂŤUnfair competition.Âť he spatted. ÂŤHe knows the team will always back him up, whereas Iâm currently without a seat for next year.Âť You shot your wide opened eyes to him. ÂŤWhat?Âť ÂŤI was negotiating the renewal when they suddenly announced another driver they had been in contact with for quite a long time. The team told me nothing.Âť You passed a frustrated hand on your face, trying to wash away mental fog. ÂŤYou donât want Charles to be on your tail more than he is now, I guess.Âť ÂŤI donât want him to force you to choose either him or me.Âť he stared at you. ÂŤBecause you canât help choosing him.Âť ÂŤNo! I donât care about him if this is the way he treats people! And why would you assume I wouldnât choose you? IâŚÂť You halted after suddenly noticing your hands were now resting on his chest; maybe too much of an intimate gesture, but delicate enough to soften Carlosâ expression, sewed with pain. ÂŤYou?Âť ÂŤY/n!Âť You stepped back abruptly, before even turning around to see who was searching for you with such a greeting, before Landoâs curly locks bounced over to you. ÂŤOh, Carlos!Âť the Brit smiled sheepish. ÂŤDo you two⌠know each other?Âť A F1 driver recognizing you right away with sunglasses on and cheering you as if nothing happened, only to be clearly surprised and slightly embarrassed locking gaze with him. Math wasnât mathing.
Carlos smiled, genuinely curious as to why his old teammate had approached you â or tried to, before noticing the presence of a third wheeler â so confidently when, according to you and your brotherâs words, no one in the paddock knew a thing about you. ÂŤNo, not really. She is a VIP guest Charles asked me to treat good. Probably a friend of his.Âť Carlos grinned. ÂŤDo you know each other?Âť You could tell by the tone that the question, though his eyes were on Lando, was actually directed at you as well, and you could easily imagine the confusion and the frustration reigning in Carlosâ head. ÂŤUhm, yeah.Âť Lan said, unsure. ÂŤWeâre friends.Âť
>>âĽ<<
The knob clicked closed behind you. It had been a long day: trying not to show your inner turmoil, trying not to think about him too much, trying to make sense of the situation that had formed before your eyes in the span of a morning.
we need to talk i'll let you in my hotel room, i'm at the same floor charles is 8.30
You glanced at every clock your eyes could spot, compulsively checking the time on your phoneâs screen, always managing to forget it and therefore forced to take a look again. Hours drew longer and longer as the moment approached, they projected shadows on your thoughts, dark and frightening.
Clearing your throat, you knocked on his door lightly and it surprised you when you felt it retreat from your touch almost immediately, opening. You quickly shuffled inside, hoping not to be seen by anyone in the corridor. Carlos vaguely glanced at you, as you could tell he was deep in thought. Not sure what to start with, you grabbed his hands, fidgeting with his fingers so that you keep your head low staring at them. ÂŤHow does Lando know you?Âť ÂŤWe met in Monaco without knowing that⌠that he was him and I was me. We became friends before Charles could even find out.Âť ÂŤAnd how was Charles okay with it, given his âno sisterâ policy with us drivers?Âť ÂŤI guess he couldnât do much, at that point. But Lan told me that he had to swear he wouldnât say a word about me.Âť ÂŤThe only secret he was ever able to keep.Âť Carlos scoffed. ÂŤIt had to be the most precious girl, of course.Âť You raised your eyes at him. ÂŤWhat do we do now?Âť Carlos didnât answer, choosing to enjoy the silence and draw you near with his arm; he let you adjust in the hug, as you wrapped his waist, while he left a kiss on your head. That shower of love reminded you how much you had longed for his presence; despite being hundreds of kilometers away from home, you still somehow felt in the right place. You knew what Carlos was about to say. Yet, his words came late, choosing to settle in the embrace a little more, adjusting just so that he could wrap you tighter and fit perfect. ÂŤCharles canât know.Âť You shut your eyelids close, inhaling deeply. Embarking in a secret relationship wasnât on the plan, weeks earlier. Neither was Carlos. >>âĽ<< His fingertip traced your skin, removing unwanted strands of hair out of your face, watching you sleep in his arms with a tender smile. He let his digit draw soothing lines on your forehead, willing to undo its knit. It wasnât going to be easy on any of you, lying to half world. And yet, no other choice was left.
ÂŤDid you save me as âsoâ because it stands for âsignificant otherâ?Âť Your cheek inseparable from the comforting warmth of his chest, you eyed up at him, irises glinting with amusement.
Carlos had invited you in his changing room inside Ferrariâs hospitality in order to chill and relax a bit before FP3 in Monaco. You were surprised to see there wasnât a lot of space, forced to lay on a small couch. ÂŤWhere did you learn that?Âť ÂŤInternet, of course.Âť he said, matter-of-factly. ÂŤWhat, did you search the short form of âsmooth operatorâ?Âť Giggling, you threw another jokingly glance at him, noticing his brain gears moving as he spaced out. ÂŤI never realizedâŚÂť, he shifted his gaze on you, ÂŤuntil now.Âť Willing to get closer, you flipped around and climbed upwards, resting your hands on his broad chest, still smiling at him. ÂŤYouâre my so, in every way.Âť You left a quick peck on his soft lips, biting your own in awe, admiring how lost he seemed. ÂŤSo?Âť ÂŤSo.Âť you tenderly brushed your nose against his. ÂŤItâll be my secret code for you, from now on.Âť ÂŤI want it to be a secret code for me too.Âť Carlosâ lips curled in a pensive pout, while you couldnât stop yourself from leaving another peck on them, slower this time, but still feather-like. ÂŤThen, youâre my⌠Sexy Owner?Âť You both burst out laughing. ÂŤWhat? Itâs true, youâre both sexy and you own me.Âť ÂŤI donât own you, Carlos.Âť you eye rolled, still grinning. ÂŤBut we own each other.Âť he firmly grabbed your waist, as you still laid comfortable over him. ÂŤOr at least I own you, according to what you said last nightâŚÂť The light pat he gave on your bun, paired up with his breath fanning on your neck triggered a cheerful chuckle in you. ÂŤWhat about Sweet Oath?Âť You looked back at him. ÂŤAn oath?Âť ÂŤAn oath of love. Thatâs why itâs sweet.Âť ÂŤYouâre the one being sweet.Âť
Exchanging another small kiss, you got startled as Carlosâ alarm went off to warn him about the light training he was meant to do before free practice. ÂŤNever lasts long enough.Âť he grunted, leaving another kiss on your lips. ÂŤAre we hanging out tonight?Âť you asked, climbing off him reluctantly to let him go. ÂŤMaybe right after qualifying. I need to attend a dinner with sponsors.Âť ÂŤBusiness nights, uh?Âť He grinned, as you both stood up. ÂŤBe careful when you exit the room. Wait here a few minutes.Âť ÂŤGood luck.Âť ÂŤItâs just free practice.Âť he grinned.
After he had closed the door, you sat back again on the red pillowed coach, taking a closer look to the furniture: a painting with both Carlos and his father; a Spanish flag, to which you smiled reminded of the trip to Playa de el CaĂąuelo; the white varnish of the wardrobe. That small corner of Monaco was dressed in Carlos' clothes as the only fortress of freedom in a country so foreign to him and so dearly close to you. The thought that he'd be living in Monaco too pretty soon and that seeing each other wouldn't be a problem through his off season quickened your heartbeat. Your love was growing fast, faster than anyone racing in those streets.
Hearing nothing but stillness outside the room, you opened the door and got out without suspicion, ready to go downstairs. ÂŤY/n?Âť Struck, you stopped and raised your gaze, who was following your feet's movement. Lorenzo. He was in the guestsâ area of the second floor, phone in hand, staring right in your direction. ÂŤYes?Âť Fuck, you knew he had seen you. You could read it in his face, in the way the brows wrinkled his forehead, in the unsure tone he had used to call you, in the slow steps he made towards you. He halted, pausing to place his phone back in the pocket. ÂŤAll good?Âť ÂŤYes, just need to use the restroom real quick.Âť He nodded small as a sign to let you go. Confirmed, he had noticed. He knew you were lying.
>>âĽ<<
Waving back to fans behind the pitlane fence as a form of greeting and thanking, Charles rushed back inside the garage. The love he received in Monaco was comparable to nothing else. Walking those streets, getting to drive them and own an entire country, wrapped around his fingers, was quite the power at such a young age. Still, Charles didnât feel pressure from it, nor the need of controlling or maintaining it: when youâre comfortably in the lead, you only see the road ahead and you donât focus on the position youâre in.
Entering the box, searching for Andrea, Charles didnât expect to find you engaged in a conversation with his teammate. About F1. ⌠and they could undercut us.Âť ÂŤUndercut? What does that mean?Âť Watching Carlos talk and gesture data on a screen, hearing his words half eaten up by the noise of the mechanics cleaning the garage, Charles didnât stray his stare once. The way his hand lingered on the small of your back, almost without touching it but still hovering on you like a magnet's pole meeting one of the same sign, not able to make contact and yet forcing proximity, pressed an emergency button in Charles' brain. And even more so, as you gazed intently at the screen, willing to follow the Spaniard's explanations. Because when youâre in the chase, the subordinate position youâre in never ceases to pound in your head as the deadliest sin.
Before he could even prevent himself, Charles was already walking towards you with hands stuffed down into his loose sweatpants. ÂŤThis is why in case of safety cars it's best to-Âť ÂŤPit so no one undercuts you. Right, Carlos?Âť He knew. Inside his eyes, Charles could read annoyance for the interruption, as he saw your attention shifting from Carlos to himself. ÂŤWhy are you guys talking about undercut? What did I miss?Âť ÂŤCarlos was teaching me some stuff on strategies, since I had some questions.Âť ÂŤYou? Questions on strategy?Âť Charles scoffed, almost jokingly. ÂŤAnd why didn't you ask me instead?Âť ÂŤBecause Carlos is a great teacher.Âť you grinned. ÂŤAnd he was the only one available.Âť Two bullets shot at once. A glint, the fastest and subtlest, flashed in Carlos' dark irises, bright enough to catch Charles' attention. Neither of them was keen on the idea of losing, but if there was anything Charles didn't want to be won over was a stranger engaging with you and getting your undivided attention better than he had ever done himself. He couldn't bear anyone winning you. ÂŤSo?Âť The angles of your mouth curved in a smile unconsciously, hearing that secret code escape Carlosâ lips with such a teasing tone; and it tasted even sweeter when Charles decided to simply walk away, answering nothing to the cruel evidence.
White and black waved at the cross line, as a red car flew on the straight. The jewel had been caste onto his long due awaited Princeâs crown: Charles had won in Monaco. Emotion brimmed in every pair of eyes you met. First Lorenzo, then Pascale hugging you up, you stared at the screen and tried to make sense of your brotherâs team radio being broadcasted, while you tried not to lose Carlos out of sight through the wide window giving you a majestic glimpse of the Principality. You all ran downstairs, flooding the pitlane to welcome the winner, to see his fist brought up to the sky, to hear the screams and cheers muffled by his helmet, to release your breath as soon as Charles sighed in relief too.
As you followed his red suit launching into the mechanics crowd, you swallowed hard at the scene, Charles ruffling Arthurâs hair and hugging each other with joy. It was less than a couple of meters away from you, and yet it felt like joy was a matter only to be shared between them, as if that win they so much ached for was only meant to drown you down in a painful defeat.
Charles eyed you behind Ferrariâs president Elkan but didnât linger on you much, swamped by other people congratulating him; Carlos, instead, embracing the man who was unconsciously guarding you from the track â said Elkan â, he took the opportunity to make a deep eye contact. You noticed he must be tired or bothered by thoughts too, and if only cameras werenât capturing every single second of the happy chaos filling the boulevard, you wouldâve leaned in to leave a kiss on those soft, plump lips of his.
>>âĽ<<
ÂŤI know you might disagree, but⌠Today was a really special day for Charles and itâd be great if you could join the celebrations tonight, with him. With us.Âť Your mother hummed to Lorenzoâs words, glancing at you to check your reaction, which was more than slow to show. ÂŤCharles, a-and Arthur as well, would be so happy to have us all together, like the family we are.Âť The family you were. You stood in silence, eyes purposefully avoiding theirs not to dwell on that unhappy phrasing, carefully pondering and recalling the brief conversation you and Carlos had barely managed to hold after the podium celebration back in his small room inside the hospitality, easily hiding when the full attention was placed on Charles. Thereâd probably be a celebration of P3 too. ÂŤDad wouldâve liked it as well.Âť Pascale added. And what then? Wouldnât a chance to see Carlos be more than enough to set resentment and old rotten feelings aside? ÂŤYes.Âť Lorenzo agreed, lowering his head. ÂŤWhere is he partying?Âť you asked, monotone. ÂŤHow come where? At Jimmyâz, of course.Âť Your eyeroll was accompanied by a sharp inhale, regretting already the resolution you had just formed. ÂŤIâll go home as soon as Iâm tired or bored.Âť ÂŤAre you really coming?Âť Lorenzo asked surprised, as if he had just made peace with the fact you would turn the invitation down. ÂŤBut of course! You can go home whenever you feel like it, since weâll probably stay up very late⌠Youâll make him happy just by being present for five minutes.Âť ÂŤDonât give me ideas I wouldnât hesitate to put into work.Âť you said, teasingly. Pascale grinned wide, sincerely glad to have all the Leclercâs on the same page â quite a novelty, lately. ÂŤGood! Do you need help choosing your dress? Styling your hair, maybe?Âť ÂŤNo, mom, Iâm fine. I can manage.Âť ÂŤOkay, I see⌠Always the self-made woman!Âť
>>âĽ<<
The shiver and the adrenaline coursing through your blood as soon as you put foot in the club inevitably sprung a smirk upon your lips. You knew it was a mistake, and still, you couldnât stop yourself from falling for it. You, Carlos and your brother dancing and getting wasted in the same room.
You had felt it right as you posed against the Jimmyâz cardboard next to Charles for some family shots, it was in the nice breeze travelling down your skin: you knew it was on you, and you only flashed smiles to the camera because you were aroused by that thought. Carlosâ stare. It told you everything you needed to know as soon as it found you among the crowd and rested on you; his eyelids had widened in surprise, while he frowned, worry and concern concealed by a layer of undeniable excitement. In that quick exchange of looks, it was made painfully obvious to both of you that staying away from each other would be a challenging task, almost impossible, if only Charlesâ delightful expression wouldnât haunt your sight left and right.
ÂŤLando! Lan, congrats, bae!Âť you slurred, lacing your arms around his neck. ÂŤThanks, babe! I wasnât on the podium, but I appreciate.Âť he laughed. He then paused and checked you out with smiling eyes, trying to interpret your weirdly affectionate state. ÂŤWho did you get all this cute and worked up for?Âť ÂŤUh?Âť Lando had to repeat the question through the loud cheers of Charlesâ friends near you. ÂŤWhose heart are you trying to steal being this giggly and adorable?Âť Eyes bored deep into his, suppressing a smile biting your lower lip, you faked the purest honesty and innocence of mind. ÂŤNo oneâs.Âť Your hidden mischief didnât go unnoticed to Lando, who nonetheless decided to let it slide off his mind, letting his gaze wander in the packed floor. ÂŤWant to dance?Âť His quick request caught you off guard, making you turn around to him with a puzzled expression. You had barely even realized his hand was resting friendly on your naked shoulder, his fingers squeezing it gently as to silently repeat the offer. ÂŤYes, sure!Âť Lando vibed to the beat, taking small sips while flashing smiles at you: he could see you were having fun and definitely not sparing any ounce of energy, letting your hair sway left and right to the rhythm. Until, a flash. Behind you, in the sea of dancing bodies, he had caught someone flicking his eyes on you. Lando decided to take another sip, considering it wouldnât be unusual for people to notice you. But then it struck again, and he managed to catch the personâs face. ÂŤWhatâs wrong?Âť you half-screamed at Lando, trying to make yourself be heard. ÂŤNothing, thought I saw someone I know.Âť He then brushed your arm lightly. ÂŤIâll come back in a second.Âť
>>âĽ<< Drink in hand â an unnecessary one, since you were already quite tipsy, but absolutely required to argue with Arthur like lords far from the dancing chaos â you reasoned out loud that the only good thing about Jimmyâz was the music. He chuckled in agreement, taking a sip. ÂŤThe venue is cool, though, donât you think?Âť he asked. ÂŤWould be better off without those naked girls flashing everyone.Âť ÂŤTheyâre not naked!Âť Arthur smugly replied. ÂŤBut I see why youâre not interested.Âť ÂŤAre you?Âť you asked, disgusted. ÂŤI meanâŚÂť You scoffed at his collected reticence. ÂŤCâmon, donât play the goody two shoes! I bet you wouldnât complain if it was a sixpack on full display.Âť ÂŤBut I donât want to be flashed every single second. Iâm not always in the mood, you know?Âť you teased, placing your gaze back to the crowd. Arthur kept staring at you, raising a brow and pulling a knowing smile. ÂŤOh, really?Âť ÂŤYes.Âť ÂŤThen why have you been dancing like crazy all over Lando while wearing your revenge dress?Âť You looked at him, genuinely puzzled. ÂŤRevenge dress?Âť ÂŤThis is the dress you wore the night after breaking up with that dickhead of your ex-boyfriend when we partied at Buddhaâs. Itâs the âpartying âtil I forget my nameâ sexy dress.Âť The realization made you laugh uncontrollably hard, spitting out the sip you had taken back into the glass and obliging you to lean on Arthurâs arm for support. Of course, you couldnât refrain from laughing long enough to let your brother know how drunk you actually were, how unstable you seemed to be on your high heels and how difficult it would be to let you go back home alone in that state.
While gripping Arthurâs arm tight for support, a trail movement at the back of the room perked your interest, and you were quick to see a group of people walking towards the VIP room, amongst which you easily spotted Charles â under his unmistakable Monaco flag â and, to your dismay, Carlos. You flung yourself away from Arthur, rushing to the VIP room door before they could reach it, dodging waiters and bodies dancing around, trying your best not to twist your ankle in the process; ignoring Carlosâ widening irises, you grabbed the shuffling flag away from Charlesâ head and bore your eyes into his. ÂŤWhat are you doing?Âť you asked. ÂŤWe wanted to go inside-Âť ÂŤI want to come in!Âť you pouted. Charles, already quite wasted, stared at you, seemingly unable to make sense of your weird request. Heâd always thought you didnât like the VIP room, he had it clear; still, your fingers gripping his shirt and your eyebrows knitted in plead were unequivocal signs of protest in utter contradiction with the past. It didnât even cross his mind why he would ever deny you the access when he had, in fact, waited for you to get closer to him and join him since the very beginning. Since forever. He would always have to see you party with your friends in other clubs, purposely avoiding the one he was in, just so that you couldnât meet him. It was a no brainer for him to giggle at you and ruffle your hair with a drunk smile, heart swelling with pride and happiness. ÂŤOf course, letâs go!Âť
The shades of the dim lights were blue and red, creating nice purple shadows on the black leathered couches, on the uncountable glasses placed on the coffee table, on the features of everyone sitting around you. Shameless, you couldnât help but focus your entire attention onto seducing Carlos from across the table: index tracing the edge of your cup, taking sips from the straw while looking straight into him, crossing your legs so that the thin fabric of your dress would expose even more of your thighs. An ineffable pleasure hit you when you noticed the gleam in his dark eyes. He was hooked. You had seen him seeking relief from the heat creeping on his body, pulling away from his neck the tight-fitting shirt with a finger, shifting in his seat, first leaning over with his forearms on the thighs in order to desperately get involved in the conversation and avoid staring at you for an unreasonable amount of time, then ultimately giving up, crashing his back onto the back of the couch, manspreaded. Useless to say you fell into his trap. His smug smirk, half-lidded eyes, warned you he had very well noticed your reaction; catching you staring was the sweetest revenge, but still let him unsatisfied. He had to swipe the palm of his sweaty hands onto his trousers and swallow hard, as he watched you drink your thirst away and diverge gaze, before one of you could call out the shitshow and drag the other out of the club to finally have what you both wanted, touch starved.
Luckily for you, nobody at the table had picked up on the intense and mutual riling up competition you had started: except for Lorenzo. His eyes had followed Carlosâ body spreading wide on the couch and his clear arousal after feasting on your poses all night. Lorenzo hadnât missed the way you had bit your lower lip, immediately taking a long sip of your drink, visibly affected by the exchange of looks with Carlos. Before he could process it any further, you abruptly popped standing up. ÂŤIâm going dancing!Âť Not that anyone really followed you; Charles, as well as all his friends, were deep in conversation â or, at least, drunkenly attempting to â digging up the past and cherishing the incredible victory achieved.
Carlos turned his head around, unable to stop following your silhouette everywhere like a sunflower chases the brightest star in the galaxy: you were that charming to him, that dear. ÂŤCarlos, what about you?Âť Carlosâ head snapped back to the table, breath almost audibly hitched, wide eyes placed on Lorenzo who had been the one to address him. He hadnât heard the question, because he had been too caught up admiring the way your hips would sway to the rhythm, tracing imaginary lines on your neck, along your collarbone, done to the neckline of your dress⌠Fuck. ÂŤSorry, I spaced out for a second. What was the question?Âť He knew Lorenzo hadnât bought it, it was written in bold letters, between the lines, but Carlos acknowledged he had decided to let it drop for the moment, and he was, obviously, relieved. ÂŤHow do you feel about the podium?Âť
You were stoked. You had rarely ever experienced such a high in your years spent in the most exclusive clubs of Monaco, and you could just feel everything was incredible: the blasting music, the drinks, the company. It was the first time you had joined clubbing with all your brothers together, and it hadnât gone south as you had always expected to. Deep down, though, you couldnât fake it was probably due to someone elseâs presence getting your family off your mind and preventing you from focusing on anything and anyone.
He was still sitting on the couch, briefly talking to the others, but he always managed to peek at you amongst the crowd. You found the perfect hiding spot for your improvised dancing performance to Carlos behind the back of what seemed to be a guy about your age. It allowed you to momentarily disappear from his sight just enough to keep him searching for you, returning a wicked smile whenever he would small grin at you. ÂŤAre you good, mate?Âť Charlesâ giggle alarmed Carlos once again, obliging him to nod at his teammate. ÂŤYou sure? You seem a little⌠tense.Âť The chuckles and the laughter bursting from Charlesâ side of the table didnât please the Spaniard, making him rather confused. ÂŤIâm fine, actually.Âť They both stared at each other, Charlesâ eyes sparkling in drunkenness and mischief, still smirking with both dimples on display. ÂŤI have a gift for you, Carlos.Âť Carlos gulped as soon as he saw Charlesâ fingers gesturing as to bring something next to the table; the green eyes still fixed on him, Carlos tried to free himself from whatever was to come, reassuring Charles on the fact that if anyone needed gifts, well, that was the winner of the Grand Prix, not the third classified. ÂŤBut Carlos! You arenât turning down my gift, are you?Âť he said. ÂŤBecause in that case, you know what they say⌠Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?Âť Charles leaned back onto the couch, resting his arm on the top. Carlos tried to throw a last glance at you, not able to find you in the swaying sea of bodies, but as soon as he had turned his head over the dance floor, he had seen the âgiftâ approaching, and his lips parted in surprise. And disgust. One of the many dancers hired for the VIP room, hanging around and serving tables with little to no clothes on, climbing the small three steps separating the table from the dance floor. ÂŤNever look in the mouth, but⌠you can take a great look at everything else.Âť Charles smirked wide, enjoying the embarrassment and the amused commotion he had created between his friends. As the woman took a step closer to Carlos knees, he was quick to halt her lascivious moves by standing up, driven by madness at how clearly Charles had planned it only to cause a scene and enjoy how he would entangle away from such a predicament, well knowing he couldnât act on the rage coursing in his heated blood. Carlosâ mouth went completely dry, despite the drinks he had had in order to forget he was sitting in the lionsâ cage and hideously having to socialize with people who despised him as much as he did. To forget that you were the sister of that bratty, annoying, childish prince of Monaco.
Carlos darted his eyes to Charles, fingers clenching into a fist, desperately trying not to give in and offer the reaction everyone awaited as to get him to be kicked out from the club. A shatter of glass interrupted Carlosâ trail of thoughts, making him turn his head to the noise coming from the dance floor. He noticed a waitressâ tray had crashed and wetted the floor, right above the stairs next to their table, as you rushed excuses and apologies to the girl.
Carlos was about to walk down and help you getting out of the embarrassment only to get rid of his own, but he needed no further convincing the moment he saw a pair of hands grab your waist from behind, drawing you close to his body. It was a young guy, the same you had used as a shield in the crowd, who had ultimately turned around and noticed your dancing, mistakenly thinking you were addressing him with those moves and not your boyfriend sat meters away.
ÂŤWhatâs your name, sweetheart?Âť It had escalated the moment you had tried to reach Carlos both to sneak away from the unrelenting advances and to shoo away the unwanted presence of one of the dancers near your man. ÂŤWhere do you think youâre going? We havenât had fun yet!Âť He had spun you around grabbing your shoulder, quick to press his body onto yours; out of fear, disgust and panic, you had pushed yourself away from him with all your might, tumbling backwards on your heels and hitting the waitress. ÂŤLeave me alone!Âť Carlos needed no more. His eyes renewed with fire, in no time he had reached you and had snatched those foreign, dirty hands away from you. ÂŤAre you deaf? Leave.Âť No matter how loud the music was, you could feel Carlosâ low voice echoing in your chest, vibrations reaching your stomach: you hadnât been that close to him all night and his sudden presence daunted you all at once. ÂŤWhat? Who are you to tell me what to do?Âť A couple of friends of the guy backed him up, as Carlos smiled out of utter disbelief and fury. You wrapped his wrist tight, hoping to hold him back in the unknown propositions you knew he might be harboring. ÂŤSomeone who could get you out of this country in less than two minutes.Âť You turned around, surprised to see Charles dismiss the jovial and light-hearted grin he had worn all night to put on a devilish smile, his green irises concealing a hint of madness. Carlos had wiggled out of your hold, scared that your brother could notice it, as you both stared at Charles with curiosity and bewilderment. ÂŤMaybe three, if you leave immediately and forget to come here for the rest of your life.Âť he added, looking down at his Richard Mille.
Peeking behind their backs, the ridicule group gulped noticing a group of bodyguards approaching. Charles flashed them back with the smile of someone who has the entire world wrapped around his fingers and manages to win it all. Still, glancing back at you, he felt no power, no control. Lorenzo had approached you and was making sure you were okay, hands grabbing your arms delicately. Carlos, who had stepped in first, didn't allow Lorenzo to take care of you alone, and stood close to you, worry painted in his eyes. And what had Charles done? What had he done for you? He hadn't even noticed you were in danger. He was so focused on himself, on the mischief he had reserved for his teammate. It was the first time you were partying together and he had left you out of his conversations, his laughs, his memories' sharing, to the point you had gone dancing alone to find the company he hadn't given you.
Charles' head started buzzing, mental fog clouding his actions. He stared at you, lost, eyes glinting in drunkenness. ÂŤI'll ask Arthur to bring you back home, okay?Âť Lorenzo said to you. ÂŤI'll give her a ride.Âť Like a magnet, your eyes flew to Carlos right as he spoke. Your brother looked at him with an inquiring look, not sure why Charles' teammate would ever consider himself adequate for the task. ÂŤYou guys should all stay here and celebrate together.Âť Carlos smiled. ÂŤI was about to leave too.Âť ÂŤWell, then... Thank you, Carlos.Âť Lorenzo grinned while Charles blinked through the interaction without grasping the meaning, which was brutally revealed as Carlos put his hand on the small of your back and escorted you towards the exit of the VIP room. And you were gone. Again.
>>âĽ<<
Unbeknownst to you, inside the VIP room you had kept rather quiet, experiencing a moment of down after having drunk that much. After dancing it out and getting your adrenaline levels up with the incident, stepping back into the main floor of Jimmy'z, swamped by the overwhelming heat, you had to get a good grip on Carlos' shoulder not to lose balance. ÂŤHey, are you good?!Âť Aaaand you fell. Of course. Pouting and whining, you did what Carlos hoped you didn't: throw a drunk tantrum. ÂŤI don't want to leave!Âť He sighed, picking you up from the ground with ease and making sure you'd stand on your own. ÂŤBe a good sister and obey your brother, huh?Âť ÂŤI'd only obey... you.Âť and with your pointer finger on his chest, you smirked at him. ÂŤThen let's go home.Âť ÂŤUghh, you're no fun! I want to stay!Âť ÂŤIs everything okay?Âť The voice signaled the approaching of Lando, fast enough to take an apprehensive look at you. As soon as Carlos met the Britâs eyes, a wave of comfort washed over him. ÂŤShe's drunk and I've been told by her brothers to bring her home...Âť Lando raised a brow at you suddenly hugging Carlos and complaining in slurred sentences. ÂŤBut she doesn't want to.Âť Carlo sighed, defeated. ÂŤNeed help?Âť ÂŤYep. Much needed.Âť ÂŤY/n!Âť Escorted out of the club by the two of them at your sides, you only remembered getting in the passengers' seat of Carlos' car, while Lando showed him the way to your house from the backseat, with his elbow leaning just above your headrest. Thighs pressed on the luxurious leather of the Ferrariâs seat, you let out a giggle out of nowhere, not sure what was making you happy: your best friend's presence paired up with the love of your life's seemed enough.
>>âĽ<<
ÂŤ'Right, let's get you some fresh clothes.Âť Lan moved quickly towards your wardrobe, knowing exactly where to search for a pair of shorts and a plain bedtime shirt. Carlos, while following his movements, flipped you upwards, since you had fallen onto the bed like a dead weight facing the mattress. ÂŤHere!Âť Lando joined Carlos, staring at you with a sigh. ÂŤShe can't put them on herself, I guess.Âť ÂŤNo, I don't think she can.Âť ÂŤSo⌠how do we do?Âť Carlos reached for the hem of your top without a second thought, well used to the feeling of your warm skin on his fingers while sliding clothes off of you; spreading wide your rosy cheeks with a smile, you settled for his touches, complying to the well-practiced duet, sure it was the right reward after a night of mutual pining. It seemed like Lando's presence wasn't relevant enough, or at least it didn't cause any second thought on proceeding with the stripping down before his eyes. You raised your arms, teasingly, waiting for Carlos to remove your top, which he did, leaving you only with your bra on and your high-waisted shorts. ÂŤGive me the shirt.Âť Lan handed it to him, furrowed eyebrows, examining carefully Carlos' moves. Smirking, you laced your arms around his neck and strived to leave a kiss on his cheek, but suddenly aware of the Britâs stare, Carlos gave him a sheepish smile, placing a hand on your back as you didn't unglue yourself from him. ÂŤWhereâs my goodnight kiss?Âť Lando, brows knitted and batting eyelashes quickly, examined the careful yet tender smile blooming on Carlosâ lips after your drunk request, followed by the peck he left on your forehead. Melting under the touch, you cuddled back in bed, grinning wide like a child, while the two drivers silently switched off the lights and exited the room.
Firing up the engine, the revving noise of Ferrariâs horsepower covered partially the few words escaping Landoâs lips as a reflex of a realization. ÂŤItâs you, isnât it?Âť ÂŤWhat?Âť ÂŤYouâre her boyfriend. Youâre the guy she met in Miami.Âť The sky had fallen silent, though the streets of Monaco shone and the pavement brimmed with people strolling by in search of fun. Carlos glanced briefly at Lando, who was still staring and expecting an answer; then, gripping the steering wheel, he focused back on the road, unconsciously smiling. ÂŤIs it that obvious?Âť ÂŤI meanâŚÂť Lan gulped, avoiding gaze. ÂŤShe was trying to kiss you, what other confirmation do I need?Âť The smile spread wide, uncontainable at this point, fueled by the memory of the cute and clingy behavior you had shown off in front of both himself and Lando. The ride kept silent for a while, as the Brit studied Carlosâ collected calm concealed under a sweating, hot body, veins in his arms popping out the tanned skin. ÂŤShe told me you were pretty secretive about it all.Âť ÂŤWell, I didnât want to rush her into a crazy public relationship full of formalities.Âť he stopped at a traffic light. ÂŤBut if you really want to know, I had planned on going public next week.Âť ÂŤIt sounds like you wonât.Âť ÂŤBecause we canât.Âť ÂŤWhy not?Âť Lando turned to face him. Carlos gripped the steering wheel harder and stared back at the traffic light. ÂŤCharles.Âť ÂŤCharles what?Âť ÂŤTold me to stay away from her.Âť he accelerated, seeing the green light. ÂŤAnd donât tell me âFuck thatâ, because you know Iâm in no position to. Iâm sure that if he wanted, he could convince the team to drop me mid-season.Âť ÂŤWell, I see. It sucks.Âť ÂŤYeah.Âť Pensive for a few turns of Monaco, Lando was quick to speak up again. ÂŤBut isnât love stronger than anything else?Âť ÂŤYou canât make a living out of love and carelessness, you know?Âť ÂŤIâm just saying that⌠She loves you a lot.Âť ÂŤI do too.Âť ÂŤI think⌠I think she would give up on Charles, for you.Âť ÂŤI donât want her to sacrifice anything or anyone for me, let alone her loved ones.Âť ÂŤNeed to throw up, after this.Âť
Carlos had asked you to sleep in his hotel room without too much thought; as a quite established couple, though hiding it, he just wanted to put his arms around you and feel your body heaving by his side, especially on weekends in which the tension upon his shoulder started to take a toll on him. The negotiations with Williams and Audi going south; the relationship with Charles wearing thin; the team starting to gatekeep the car development and excluding him from some technical feedback. Some days he only wanted to take a deep breath in and exhale loudly, in silence, searching for inner peace; he figured it would be easy with your sparkly presence next to him. He hadnât anticipated seeing the situation affecting you as much. With a hand resting on your stomach, he could feel your heartbeat quicken and your breath being sharp and irregular. Even though you were both supposed to be sound asleep, the room already drowned in darkness, he could tell you were fighting your fears, your imagination running wild in open fields he knew nothing of. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, soothingly, you curled up, to become smaller and smaller, to take less space, and Carlos matched your movements pulling you closer to him.
In the morning, watching you offer him a coffee inside the hospitality with the brightest smile, heâd be left wondering: which vulnerable side you were both trying to show and conceal to his awareness. And when you cuddled in his changing room, heâd be willing to ask and address it but then stopped as you fidgeted with his fingers, delaying the answer, inevitably discouraging him from pursuing the truth. Still, whenever the two of you hid from the world to build a fort of intimacy and love - whichever place youâd find the most fitted to your hot-blooded desires: cramped in his changing room, late night sessions on the desk of the strategy department, making out in the backseat of a media van with tinted windows -, he could read the intense, swamping need of putting worries to sleep, he could taste it on your lips, on your collarbone, and he could sense it in the sweet scent of your hair, an implicit beg for freedom from an unknown chain. Through each breath, in each moan you let out, Carlos could hear faint pleads, a soft voice praying for him not to ask, not to speak, not to remind you, not to ruin the magic of the moment.
Carlos had, indeed, good reasons to think something beneath the surface was unsettling you. You felt it too, during the shared flight with your brothers; and then while stepping foot back again in the land which had brought so much happiness to you and that, still, couldn't swipe away the nasty shadow eating you alive. It followed you, haunted you.
Thursday, 20th June 2024. Written in bold letters on an article about the F1 weekend you were reading, and suddenly the gloom took shape. Seven years. Raising your eyes from the screen of your phone, you glanced at Charles, searching for the same wave of despair and melancholy your heart was overcome by, finding nothing but a light tint of blue under his eyes. Maybe you still had words entangled between your vocal folds yet to be spoken, yelled at him, buried inside your body under the compact soil of time; maybe prejudice had precluded a relationship not so unreachable or despicable as you had always imagined. Because maybe, well disguised by an uncracked mask, you were both harboring the same regret and grief. Or maybe not.
>>âĽ<<
You walked down the paddock marching to Ferrariâs garage, smile on full display, Charlesâ gifted Ray Bans shielding you from judgment as you sported your shirt with the confidence of a star; it was loose enough for you to swim inside of it but still letting the hem of your shorts show beneath it. Ferrari 55 You didnât miss the friendly smiles of the mechanics and engineers, who had got accustomed to your presence throughout the weeks, at the sight of the bright red merch. Quite pleased with the reaction, you glanced left and right with a single goal in mind, and as you hit it the grin grew wider, mimicking the one Carlos wore on his face. ÂŤHow do I look?Âť You twirled around so that he could see better how the cotton draped your silhouette, clearly outlined by his imagination despite the lack of transparency. He had traced your body with his eyes, with his rough hands, with his thoughts way too much not to be obsessed by it, not to remember every single corner of it.
Charles, entering the garage in that same moment with a bit of a rush, since he was running late to the activities established for the day, distractedly took a look in your direction, only to turn his head a second time as he noticed his teammate checking you out with too much familiarity. ÂŤWhatâs going on here?Âť ÂŤChaâ! I was asking Carlos his opinion on my new outfit.Âť He took a moment to let his eyes scan top to bottom a couple of times, before nostalgically smiling. He had never wanted to see you on track during the kart days because your relationship wasnât particularly good and he knew you wouldnât agree anyway. But since F2, since your dadâs condition had started to worsen, since Baku, since his finger raised to show the Je tâaime papa on his rear wing, he had always dreamed of having you support him. He knew he was too old to hide in Pascaleâs arms, but craving his little sisterâs affection wasnât as childish. Still, it was way harder to obtain. And having it now, eyes not missing the sunglasses you used as a hairband, so glad you appreciated that gift to the point you wore them that often, felt like that dream was coming true.
ÂŤSoâŚWhat do you think, Carlos?Âť The Spaniard, a bit surprised by the ball being passed to him immediately, hesitated some more in the staring. ÂŤRed looks amazing on you.Âť ÂŤDoes it?Âť you asked, coquettish, turning your shoulder a bit. Enough to show the number on the back. ÂŤYes, it does.Âť Charles said, anticipating Carlosâ answer. ÂŤNow we need to get done with the social media challenge before the briefing. Right, Carlos?Âť ÂŤYep. Iâm coming.Âť As Charles turned his back to move away, Carlos seized the moment to whisper in your ear. ÂŤAnd my scent fits you amazingly as wellâŚÂť, you smirked in sync. ÂŤDid you steal it from my wardrobe?Âť ÂŤMaybe.Âť ÂŤKeep it. I want to rip it off of you tonight.Âť ÂŤTonight? Thought itâd convince you to find more time for me earlier in the day, but seems like I was wrongâŚÂť Knowing you had hit a vulnerable point, you enjoyed Carlosâ hand brushing casually your hip while passing by and pretending to let you go, only to capture you with words. ÂŤIâd fuck you right now on the counter next to the helmets.Âť he paused, licking his ruby lips. ÂŤBut since youâre trying to rile me up at work, youâll pay the price by waiting.Âť
>>âĽ<<
2 new messages from Lando
[picture] you guys are going public or something?
You smiled staring at the photo Scuderia Ferrari had posted on X: it was a shot taken on the pit area of you with Ferrari merch â in fact, number 55âs one â and Carlos resting his hand on your waist.
> canât a driver and his teammateâs sister pose together for a pic? they can, but⌠not being subtle at all here, just saying
>>âĽ<<
Dining at a table hidden away from Netflix crew and photographers, you chugged down water in large sips. ÂŤDid he congratulate you?Âť Charles smiled. ÂŤThink he wished for me to have a mechanical failure like in 2022.Âť You drank and drank again, hand never letting go of your glass, willing to extinguish the fire â once a mere fever â which had built up in your chest since first hearing your brothersâ words about Carlos.
An infuriating, consuming flame of love. ÂŤHe pushed me off the track in China⌠Don't know what he'll do in his home race, starting in front of him.Âť ÂŤIf the strategy is to save tyres, the team should ask you to keep the positions in the first stint at least.Âť Charles snorted at Lorenzo's reasoning. ÂŤI'm sure. Can't wait for his mother's comments defending him whatever shit Carlos does on track.Âť ÂŤCan you please stop?Âť Charles eyed you from across the table a bit surprised, visibly annoyed by the tone and the request. ÂŤStop doing what?Âť ÂŤTalking shit about someone who's not present and whom you don't know a thing about.Âť Charles almost burst out laughing in front of you, while Lorenzo threw you a confused and alarmed look, warning you about the dangerous territory you had stepped in. ÂŤOh, right, I don't know anything⌠Then tell me, what do you know about him, uh?Âť Out of frustration, you stood up abruptly, struggling to form a proper answer. ÂŤWhat I know is that youâre still a fucking child who canât never, ever accept heâs wrong!Âť ÂŤGuys, tone it down.Âť Lorenzo said, getting up and approaching you to grab gently your arm. You brushed him off and stormed out of the room, hearing your older brother's steps following close behind you. As you were about to turn around and dismiss him, since you needed no babysitter, Lorenzo spoke the words you had expected him to spit out one month earlier. Only you werenât expecting to hear them now. ÂŤWhat were you doing in Carlos' room?Âť You kept facing away from him, not able to move nor to answer. ÂŤWhy do you keep attending race weekends only to disappear without explanation and avoid Charles and all of us like the plague?Âť he said, stepping forward. ÂŤDid you really think I wouldn't notice?Âť ÂŤDoes Charles know?Âť you asked. ÂŤNo.Âť he said. ÂŤBut if it's serious, you should definitely tell him.Âť ÂŤIf?Âť you turned around to face him. ÂŤAre you kidding me? Of course it's serious, indeed, very serious-Âť ÂŤThen you need to talk about it, because this doesn't only involve you but-Âť ÂŤI'm not listening to this bullshit, sorry.Âť you retreated. ÂŤYou don't get to tell me how to live my life.Âť
>>âĽ<<
Watching them from the pitlane, two red dots moving in the distance, you sensed something was off. Approaching them, dots elongating into silhouettes you so well recognized, you knew something was off. Given the race just disputed â which you had followed from Ferrariâs garage, biting your lips â you kind of expected it to be, but nothing more than a scratch due to adrenaline still running high. Still, you quickly realized how the matter stood different, struggling to catch up with their strides, helmets swinging with force from their hands as they animatedly discussed.
Surprised to see they entered the hospitality instead of walking towards the media pen as expected, you rushed inside, panting from the effort finally compensated, only to be welcomed by yelling now fully unleashed. ÂŤWHAT DID YOU FUCKING SAY?!Âť ÂŤCHARLES!Âť Screaming at the top of your lungs as you saw him tug Carlosâ suit, you tore him away, staring at him both furious and terrified, breathing harshly. ÂŤDid you sleep with him?!Âť ÂŤItâs none of your busin-Âť Carlos spitted out, bitter, enraged at the tone he had addressed you with. ÂŤShut the fuck up!Âť he barked at Carlos, then looking back at you with fiery eyes. ÂŤTell me you didnât, y/n.Âť Your fingers weakened their hold onto Carlosâ suit, as you felt the weight of his own hand on your waist lift off from perception, and your mind suddenly went black. You had lost him, yet another time. Like you had ever had him.
You stood still, arms resting lifeless to your sides, eyes still piercing his. What would he do now? What would he say next? How would he treat you from now on, after discovering that you had sticked with him through weekend races around the globe not to enjoy his company, but to sneak with a teammate he didnât even like? Would he feel betrayed? Would he feel as lonely as youâd always felt? Would he⌠hate you? His lack of reaction was the painful delay of the stab you expected in the middle of the chest.
A voice inside of you, from a hidden corner of your disrupted soul, screamed in the deafening silence around you, as your fatherâs face flashed you awake from that trance: that was the weekend. And those, poking your chest, stinging at the bottom of your lungs, those were the feelings. You gagged. It was inevitable; it had come too quick, too sudden to notice. You had seen the warning sign linger in the unthought thoughts, in the untold truths, ready to slip in any moment. And it did.
When Charles stepped closer, your body jerked backwards, frantic, and you wouldâve said it had been out of fear; but as you felt Carlosâ arms wrap your waist with might, you realized your knees had given up on your weight, and that you couldnât, indeed, breathe. Everything rushed around you: without knowing how, you found yourself sitting on a couch, Charles holding both your hands and talking gibberish you couldnât follow, a cloud of people dressed in red crowding you two, when Carlos suddenly missing in the blurry picture of your vision almost unblocked the choking clench in your throat and made you cough, before turning into a panting mess. ÂŤCan you hear me? Whatâs wrong, can you breathe?Âť Charlesâ words reached you like a metal screeching noise, not really able to grasp their meaning as you kept gasping and panting; you could only focus on his sweaty, warm fingers tightly gripping yours. In distress, you shook them off, hands trembling like a leaf right after.
Charles, at a loss of words, gulped in terror, letting out a frustrated whine: he could do nothing. ÂŤLorenzo, where is he?Âť ÂŤHeâs not here.Âť Charles whispered, a sad and confused shade in his voice. ÂŤI need him, I need⌠I⌠LorenzoâŚÂť ÂŤHey, Iâm here tooâŚÂť he spoke soft, inching closer, willing to engulf you in a hug if only youâd let him. He had never been there. Charles had always left you on your own. Things had even managed to get worse, after the death of⌠You wheezed, bringing your hand near your throat. ÂŤFuck, call the doctors from the medical center here at the track! Come on, go! Quick, for fuckâs sake!Âť Focusing on the way his expression was shaped into panic and madness, the clench in your throat seemed to loosen just enough to make you sigh, as tears pricked your eyes due to fear. ÂŤNo, no no no, donât cry, itâs okayâŚÂť Charles was pained by your sobs, adding on top of your erratic breaths, and he placed a hand on your upper arm, hesitant but incapable of preventing it, because he couldnât stand not being allowed to physically comfort you while you turned in shambles in front of him.
When you felt a hand gently place on your shoulder, you first had the instinct to flinch, but forced yourself not to as a small plastic-coated bag was handed to you from Carlos. ÂŤBreathe into the bag.Âť In and out, tears still running, you watched it expand and crinkle, full and empty, tuning into the rhythm of your heart slowly decreasing, and never letting slip into unawareness Carlosâ warm touch. You dropped down the bag once your breathing had settled back into a constant flow, despite being still hiccupped by sobs. Crushing between Carlos' arms, you gripped him tight. ÂŤPlease, take me away from here.Âť you whispered, voice cracking. Charles saw your back caged and shielded by someone else's arms once again; he heard yet another time those same words, ticking inside of him like a bomb. He could still see you dressed in black, hair once combed and then miserably tousled, your frame smaller, seeking refuge in Lorenzo's embrace. Your dad's funeral. The day he realized he had not only lost HervĂŠ, but he had also lost you. Your name slipped off Charles' lips almost inaudible, like a plea, while he got closer and raised his hand to touch you, to beg both permission and forgiveness. Carlos took a step back, drawing you even nearer to his chest to forbid him. ÂŤYou don't get to touch her after what you said.Âť Why couldn't he never... ÂŤI'll do what you should've done instead.Âť Love you?
Spielberg 2024
Charles P11. Carlos P3.
Another great performance by the Spanish driver, who granted a podium for Ferrari during his last year in the team.
_____________________
4 new messages from Lando [picture] are you guys for real FINALLY official? ON THE FREAKING F1 ACCOUNT?! > ⼠yesssss
_____________________
Silverstone 2024
Charles P14. Carlos P5.
A solid weekend for Carlos Sainz despite the car being clearly difficult to drive, with great performances in mixed track conditions both in qualifying and in the race.
_____________________
f1 â It seems like Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend y/n Leclerc had a little romantic getaway in London right after the race đ¤
_____________________
3 new messages from Charles we need to talk please call me back when you see this
ÂŤNice try!Âť ÂŤThere was a gust of windâŚÂť ÂŤYeah, sure. Keep dreaming of shots like mine.Âť
Iâve made so many mistakes
So⌠Me +5, you +8, right? Yep.
there are so many things that I want to change
ÂŤOnto the next hole, then!Âť
please donât ignore me
ÂŤReady, babe?Âť
Iâve missed you so much
ÂŤY/n?Âť ÂŤUh?Âť You finally raised your eyes from the screen, getting momentarily blinded by the sun hitting the golf green grass: protected and unbothered on the passenger seat of the golf cart, Carlos was about to follow Lando to the next hole of the course. ÂŤDonât you answer?Âť ÂŤI⌠No.Âť ÂŤMay I know who is it?Âť You sighed, simply turning the screen of your phone towards Carlos so that he could read the preview of Charlesâ flood of texts. As the cart slowly started moving, you stayed silent. ÂŤI know you wonât like what Iâm about to say, but I think someone should tell you this.Âť ÂŤWhat?Âť ÂŤItâs your brother, y/n.Âť You tsked, annoyed, crossing arms and looking on your right side, onto the endless fields of play. ÂŤSo? Does this give him permission to treat badly both of us? And if anything, you should be mad at him more than I am.Âť ÂŤBut Iâd never ask you to hate him for me.Âť You stared at him, as he kept driving. ÂŤI know you love him, and I donât want to see you sad and upset anymore because of anything that happened between me and him.Âť ÂŤItâs not just about you twoâŚÂť ÂŤI know. But from his texts, it seems like he realized he was wrong and is willing to change.Âť Approaching the new golf hole, Carlos stopped the cart right behind Landoâs. ÂŤIn four years, if I learned anything about Charlesâ character, thatâs his perseverance once he has a goal set.Âť he paused and then looked at you. ÂŤIf you ignore him today, heâll keep texting and calling you tomorrow, and the day after, until you give in.Âť ÂŤI donât want to give in. He always gets what he wants, and I want him to understand Iâm not a trophy he can keep on his shelf just because itâs the only one he lacks.Âť ÂŤI think you should hear his reasons anyway. You can always refuse afterwards, if you feel like heâs being superficial about it.Âť
>>âĽ<<
Monacoâs street merged with the gray of the liquid asphalt and the pouring column cascading from the plumbeous clouds. There was nothing more disappointing than to be forbidden the breathtaking scenery of the sea glimmering with sunshine splinters, and be left instead to a gray expanse of cold, humid and dampness.
You shook your umbrella, soaked in rain, squeezing it shut as you anticipated it being totally broken after the violent wind gusts blowing from the sea, and you brushed your lucid boots onto the rug, as you would always do. Welcome Home, it said. As soon as your jingling keys touched the small glass plate awaiting them in the hall, Charles was already springing up in front of you, visibly in distress. ÂŤWhy did it take you so long?Âť Still struck by the violence of the storm which had welcomed you outside, and dazed by the hurry and urgence of Charles once you had got inside, you didnât answer. ÂŤDid you get wet? Wait, let me get you new clothes.Âť You followed his erratic figure flinging in your room, opening the closet and scattering it through, in search of anything you might like to wear and change into. ÂŤThis, it will make you feel warm.Âť ÂŤChaâ, Iâm not coldâŚÂť ÂŤNo, this one! This one is good, for sure.Âť Piling up clothes on the bed as he frenziedly looked through your entire wardrobe, you stood still waiting for him to stop. ÂŤHere, letâs change into these.Âť he said, handing a shirt and some trousers to you. Who⌠who was that? What had happened to old Charles? The one youâd always known? ÂŤCâmon, I donât want you to get ill!Âť ÂŤYou⌠you need to exit the room.Âť ÂŤRight!Âť It had never once showed his concerns for you this openly. You figured he had always been too far away from you and not present enough to make his worry evident; and yet you had never even dared dream about such a nurturing and caring brother. At least, you had never expected him to be, once you had fully realized he would never be that brother you so dearly hoped to have.
You sat on the bed, brushing the texture of the shirt he had chosen for you: a softness, a delicacy new-found in his madman behavior. Where from? Out of fear of losing you? Hypocritic. Or maybe just finally acknowledged his mistakes? Carlosâ words echoed in the silence of your bedroom. Listening to him didnât cost you anything.
ÂŤIâm sorry. From how I treated you and Carlos, to how I never once stepped up to improve our relationship even when it was more in my power than in yours to do so.Âť You lowered your gaze, knowing full well what Charles was referring to and playing every scene, every talk, every fight in your mind like a rerun. ÂŤMe and dad barely included Arthur in my driving experience. We thought that there was no point in including you, who were even younger than him, in something you didnât seem to have a lot of interest in.Âť ÂŤYou both decided that for me.Âť ÂŤI know. I know now.Âť he nodded. ÂŤIt was a terrible mistake to exclude you from my passion because it indirectly excluded you from my life.Âť ÂŤYou werenât even here when dad was at the hospital.Âť ÂŤDon't you think I know? Donât you think Iâve suffered for that?Âť You, inevitably, cried; and he, inevitably, took you in his arms, hugging as strong and tight as he had ever done, as he had wanted to do the day he had come back for the funeral, the moment he had seen you cling onto Lorenzoâs shirt and be cradled by him. It shouldâve been me, I shouldâve supported you instead, his embrace now screamed. Charles undeniably loved you from the first time he had seen you: a little princess to guide and take care of, to cuddle to sleep when you were still a newborn, to shield from Arthurâs mischief dictated by jealousy from not being the youngest kid anymore. ÂŤI missed you.Âť The crack in his voice, the trembling of his chest upon yours warned you he was crying as well, inside your arms. You couldnât help but sob louder, and grip his shirt tighter, burying your face in his neck. And yet, he knew that he needed to let that princess grow into a queen and, instead of shielding her from life, support her along the way. ÂŤAs to CarlosâŚÂť he said. ÂŤChaâ, I love him, I canât help it.Âť you said as he wiped a tear from your cheek. ÂŤPlease, don't ask me to choose because I wonât.Âť ÂŤY/n, Iâm no one to say what you can and canât do.Âť he dropped the tone of his voice. ÂŤAnd Iâm definitely not entitled to say whom you can and canât love.Âť You stood in shock, elaborating his words. ÂŤSoâŚÂť ÂŤSo, if Carlos makes you happy, then I support it. I support⌠you.Âť
>>âĽ<<
ÂŤSo you're good now?Âť ÂŤThanks to you, yes.Âť You laid back onto the swim towel, pressing on the sand of Playa de el CaĂąuelo, staring straight at Carlos who was laying right next to you. ÂŤI love the sun here in Spain, goshâŚÂť ÂŤBrings back memories, right?Âť he smirked. ÂŤYeah...Âť ÂŤWhy donât relive them?Âť In a glimpse, Carlos had grabbed you and you two rolled on the sand, so that you rested on top of him, giggling through the embrace you were now surrounded by. It was as natural as breathing the way you both leaned in to join lips in a messy kiss, smiling and grazing each otherâs hot skin, building up steam in such a short amount of time. Dreamy eyes, Carlos placed a strand of your wet hair behind your ear, speaking up again. ÂŤI was thinking of buying the villa, so I can stop renting it every month for us to come here.Âť ÂŤReally?Âť you beamed. ÂŤWould you like it?Âť ÂŤI'd love it.Âť ÂŤSo then we can expand it and add a second floor, to have space for a playroom for our kids...Âť ÂŤWhat?Âť ÂŤThis will be our holiday villa, once we get married.Âť Out of excitement, you peppered his face with kisses, secure in the hold of his hands. He then leaned in again, as the tips of your nose brushed on each otherâs. ÂŤSo... Where were we?Âť
So... First of all, congratulations for making it through! I hope you liked it! Thanks for any feedback - negative, neutral or positive - you'll leave! Wish you all a good day âĽ
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#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz jr x reader#carlos sainz jr x you#carlos sainz oneshot#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 smut#f1 angst#f1 fluff#leclerc!sister#leclerc!reader#golden post
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Bad Batch Modern AU Headcanons Under the Cut
Echo
Does not like red wine. It gives him a headache and heartburn (heâs just like me fr).
Plans Friday Fundays with Omega after she gets out of school.
Great at cooking and baking, but absolutely needs to follow the recipe. If heâs tries to improvise or experiment, the food is not edible at all.
Can flawlessly do a shot with no hands.
Has done a keg stand.
Before the loss of his limbs, he used to NEVER get hungover, no matter how much he drank. Even now, his hangovers are pretty mild. Heâs just built different.
Was recruited to be one of the room parents for Omegaâs class.
The only one who can get through to Crosshair when his mental health gets really bad.
Has their house decorated like the most stereotypical suburban mom. Iâm talking Live Laugh Love signs, a beach-themed bathroom, so many throw pillows and blankets that you can barely sit, a rotation on of seasonal decor, the list goes on.
Hunter
Cannot sing for shit.
The king of dad jokes.
Has absolutely no fashion sense. Negative drip. Heâs wearing socks and sandals unironically.
Worldâs worst cook. Managed to burn and undercook a pancake. Gave Crosshair food poisoning.
Banned from grilling after he set all the food they got for their 4th of July barbecue on fire.
Gets migraines. He gets extremely sensitive to sound and smells.
The only person Crosshair lets look after him when he isnât feeling well.
Views expiration dates as suggestions. Somehow has never gotten sick.
Constantly going on Tinder dates.
Tech
Total chick magnet.
Does not realize this.
Constantly drives over the speed limit (except in school zones) but miraculously has never gotten a speeding ticket.
Best at making cocktails.
The most intense one about making sure they all eat healthy.
His shoulders and neck get really tense, from sitting at a computer and from carrying most of his stress there.
Does not like crispy bacon.
Wrecker
Grill master.
Actually great at cooking and baking. He can improvise and experiment with ease and the food comes out even better.
Always showing off photos of Omega when heâs at work.
Saw the Barbie movie more than once. He cried each time.
LOVES to listen to Kesha.
His music taste is basically just 2000âs-2010âs party girl music.
Used to choreograph dances that he would then perform with Crosshair and Fives for the rest of their family when they were kids.
Gives the best massages.
Wears the New Balance dad sneakers. Crosshair HATES them.
Crosshair
Banned from their local Applebeeâs for getting extremely sloppy off their dollaritas.
Gets motion sick sometimes, mostly in cars.
HATES air travel.
Top three artists on Spotify are My Chemical Romance, Taylor Swift, and Lana Del Rey (heâs just like me fr)
Also gets migraines. Unlike Hunter, he isnât that sound sensitive, but he gets extremely sensitive to light and smells and gets auras with his migraines.
Also saw the Barbie movie more than once (he went with Wrecker). He also cried.
Has a crush on Tony Soprano (donât ask why the thought came into my head and wouldnât leave)
Babies and toddlers love him for some reason.
Will not eat or drink something if the expiration date is within two days. Gets extremely grossed out by Hunter not caring for expiration dates.
Secretly a hopeless romantic.
Omega
Learned her first curse word from Echo when he let one slip while driving.
Repeated the word in front of Hunter, who nearly had a heart attack.
Looks just like Crosshair when he was a kid.
Likes going out with Crosshair because he almost always gets her a little treat.
Gets annoyed by how many people in her class and some of their parents have a crush on one of her brothers.
Has tried to play matchmaker for her brothers before.
All of her brothers give amazing hugs, but she secretly thinks Echoâs are the best.
Batcher
She was a rescue dog.
Sheâs a gray pittie.
Her favorite person is Crosshair and sheâs always following him around and is always at his side.
Goes crazy for cold cuts.
Was originally going to be brought to the shelter if they couldnât find an owner, but Hunter agreed to keep her when he saw how happy she made Omega and Crosshair.
Her tail has a kink because it broke and didnât heal properly.
Feel free to add more if youâd like! I have included some of these in my Modern AU works.
#star wars tbb#star wars the bad batch#tbb crosshair#the bad batch#arc trooper echo#tbb hunter#tbb echo#tbb omega#tbb wrecker#tbb tech#tbb headcanons#bad batch headcanon#bad batch headcanons#bad batch modern au
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what warband mods would you rec? I only ever played vanilla warband years ago and that was probably on fairly low AI settings, but I'm definitely intrigued by getting the full feudal clusterfuck experience as well as indulging in some nostalgia.
there's a few qualifications to these, because I usually like them for different reasons and I have something wrong with me, but...
< ! PREEMPTIVE WARNING ! > you should be running modules in Warband Script Extender even if they don't say they need it! people have historically been really bad about clarifying when it's expected
Bannerpage - vanilla for people who want More of it, and then more after that. it reminds me of a spiritual successor to Floris Modpack. an enormous expansion that's also a bit of a tongue in cheek what-if for "Bannerlord, except as continued development of Warband" with increasing complexity. this one will probably spoil you a bit on other modules just because of how many little enhancements it pulls on the native systems lol
Prophesy of Pendor - the premier feudal fantasy rpg experience. this one is brutally difficult and throws some battles at you with genuinely bewildering enemy force sizes. I'd feel fairly confident in calling this the most difficult of the major total conversion modules that maintain core M&B gameplay
Touhou Gensokyo Warfare~the Castiron Flame - this is straight up glorious kusoge and I love it dearly. it often breaks so severely due to its own design decisions that it creates a unique high-skill gameplay expectation that exists in literally no other mods, but also it can't really be called "core" M&B gameplay anymore. this module actually consists of three chinese mods (Touhou Tinder, Touhou Origin, and Touhou Beat), one of which is derived from a fork that was extended by /jp/, another which was just translated by /jp/ (a shoddy translation but not distinctly a 4chan translation, if that's a concern), all of which were merged into one mod and managed by a passionate and cool chinese mod team. none of this comes to a consistent artistic vision. every single character looks like kigurumi cosplay and they all look like they're from different manufacturers. this is my favourite module. I could play it for years.
Perisno - a strange bird of a module that I don't see mentioned much anymore. a shame, honestly, because it's quite fun if you like higher fantasy settings. a bit overconfident with its own setting lore at times, but that really just makes it more authentic as a high fantasy setting, doesn't it? anyway they funnelled the mod development efforts away to a standalone game in the setting because of that, and I wish them well, but you know how it goes with that sort of thing
Gekokujo Daimyo Edition - a modification of an older warband module that was originally a touhou hijack that was originally a mod for the non-Warband game made by japanese players annoyed that nobody in the western playerbase was making mods with a japanese setting. it's buggy, it's incomplete, it will explode at you randomly, but it's still pretty neat. there's really no other mod out there that gives you such a thorough "I HATE THE TANEGASHIMA I HATE THE TANEGASHIMA" experience. Sengoku Era, a successor mod, will probably replace it on recommendation lists when it eventually releases.
Warsword Conquest - this is the Warhammer Fantasy mod. it has all the problems you'd expect from that. that being said, the sheer level of detail in this mod makes it more than worth dropping in to check it out. some of the environments are gorgeous enough to make Warband feel like an entirely different game, and with a surprising variety of firearms, the average campaign ends up being a pretty wild ride
Brytenwalda - I'm not recommending Brytenwalda as an experience, because it's actually not that good a very interesting moment in M&B modding history. Brytenwalda is the birthplace of a lot of mod tropes that became standard in mods going forward, namely most culture-related systems and the modern standard for module graphics. it also introduced tripping and represents the moment people started making really annoying attempts at jury-rigging balance into the game before Warband Script Extender came around and actually allowed them to modify the lower systems of the game. still kinda neat if you like historical settings, and definitely foundational enough to warrant a look
Last Days of the Third Age - infamously hard-headed in a way that only a mod for a feudal warfare simulator rpg made by Tolkien nerds who insist on book>movie aesthetics could pull off, this isn't really core M&B gameplay and is very rigid, but it's another case of something being so detailed and passionate that it's a fun experience anyway.
Solid and Shade - this is actually the best hardcore survival horror experience made for Warband, which is a bit like saying that Harvester is the best FMV game ever made about waking up in a town named Harvest. the Harvester comparison is more than surface level. the writing often feels like Harvester. this is one of the only modules (hell, one of the only games even!) I've ever seen that successfully pulls off the concept of corrupting players with the promise of immortality. it's a horror mystery where every single character creation option affects your longterm gameplay... but to provide a fair warning, reading the developer's commentary on this mod will sour you on it. the developer is an edgelord who just kinda kitchen-sinked horror elements in a way that reminds me a lot of Revolution of Terror (the old Well of Souls mod). the compelling esoterica and atmosphere seem to have been achieved largely on accident
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third time's the charm ⥠chapter two
content warnings: tsukishima's p.o.v. of his sexual history since starting college! so yes. NSFW-ish (not explicit smut). minors do not interact. ahahah i hope i got him right
word count: 1,412
a/n: i added to chapter one so please make sure you read that one before this one ! also this one is on the shorter side because like ........ i am not that creative
also! sorry for the weird tenses... i like writing in present tense but i genuinely had no clue how to go from past to present so here we are <3 sorry. english is not my first language
taglist: none yet ! pls send an ask if you want to be added <3
previous ⥠masterlist ⥠next
Tsukishima Kei isn't big on commitment. Or, at least, he thought he wasn't until he met you.
Before he started college, he hadn't really gone out of his way to meet girls. Sure, there was the usual confession from underclassmen, upperclassmen, and people his age on a regular basis, but it's not like he was attracted to any of them. They all felt pretty basic: average height, average features, average everything. None of them stood out to him. Yamaguchi often teased him for his "endless line of suitors," and the olive-haired boy also taught him how to let those girls down gently. Tsukishima tried his best to, but more often than not the confessions ended in tears.
Once he started university, he decided to branch out more. He ended up going to the same school as Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutarou, and they wiggled their way back into his life. Kuroo even helped him set up his Tinder account, and Tsukishima hadn't bothered to change it since.
It's not like it wasn't easy for him to meet girls, though; his major was mostly women and he often felt some unnerving stares in his classes. He thought studying anthropology would be more equal in terms of a gender divide, but he was wrong. Besides, he didn't like the idea of trying to hook up with people he'd see on a daily basis. The appeal of Tinder was that there were no strings attached and, if he were to enjoy the company of a computer science major or a biology major, the chances of him crossing paths with them again was nonexistent.
His first time ended up being pretty straightforward -- the girl had been relatively understanding of his lack of experience, and Tsukishima had discovered that he really enjoyed kissing people, especially in missionary. His slew of experiences led him to find out that he also enjoyed the quiet noises people made more than the loud ones, the looks on their faces when they came undone, and the way they'd sink their nails into his back when it felt too good for them.
He enjoyed the way their thighs would tighten around his head when he went down on them, and he really liked the looks in their eyes when he'd lick his fingers clean after bringing them to orgasm with two digits.
He soon developed a bit of a reputation amongst those who knew him as a womanizer (although he would always disagree and say something about how that term felt demeaning towards both him and the ladies). He didn't talk about his promiscuity often, nor did he appreciate his friends' teasing about how all the women he took to bed looked the same. Tall, lithe, and light-colored hair. Bokuto went as far as to suggest that Tsukishima was into girls that could pass off as his sister, but he never said anything like that again since Tsukishima had smacked him for that comment.
It also quickly became apparent that Tsukishima wasn't a fan of women who tied their self-worth to the amount of sex they had. The first and only time he encountered someone like that, their need to please him had gone far beyond the usual desire to please one's partner and it was unsettling. That was also when he decided to exchange more than three messages with his matches on Tinder. He also no longer hesitated to unmatch with someone if they gave the wrong vibes.
There were a few times where it felt like the opposite party was getting attached. Requests to meet up for reasons other than sex, invites to parties, things like that. It's not that the idea of a relationship didn't appeal to Tsukishima, it was that the thought of being in a relationship with those who were trying to pursue one with him made his gut feel heavy and sent an anxious shiver up his spine. Simply put, there was a stark difference between "women he'd hook up with" and "women he would consider dating." After all, the hookups rarely handled his generally cold attitude well -- but sex, in his mind, was not a place for conversation. These feelings led him to think that maybe, just maybe, commitment wasn't his thing. It wasn't like he had met anyone he'd consider dating thus far anyways.
âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ
If you ask him, he would say that the day he matched with you on Tinder wasn't that eventful.
It started rather simply. In the morning, he went for his usual jog before hitting the rec center on campus. That day was his pull day, so he had done lateral pull-downs, pull-ups, and he had used the rowing machine with the resistance set to high. Tsukishima likes the gym -- no one there was going to go out of their way to talk to him (unless they were asking to work in with him) and no one there was going to judge him.
He had gone to his classes like usual -- he decided to treat himself that semester by taking an elective that had nothing to do with the actual path he was setting up for himself. He was sitting in that class, Dragons Around the World, when he decided to pull up Tinder and start swiping. It was an entertaining class for the most part, but that day was dedicated to going over the most recent exam. Tsukishima had scored a perfect 100 on it, so he felt that there was no need for him to pay attention.
As usual, his feed was dominated by people that others would think of as super models. High cheekbones, pale-colored eyes, long lashes. He swiped mindlessly -- mostly to the right -- before your profile appeared on his screen. Something about you felt different -- maybe it was the gleam of mischief in your eyes or the way your profile didn't have any photos of you scantily clad in a bikini or less. Maybe it was the way your bio was "would ask for the kid's menu at a restaurant solely for the word search," or the way your job was listed as "generally confused at school." Despite the simplicity of your profile, it felt full of personality, a huge contrast to most of those on Tinder. He found himself swiping right against his better judgment.
âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ*â˘.¸âĄÂ¸.â˘*âĄ
Around 1:00am that night, he's sat at his desk with his headphones on his ears when his phone lets out a quiet ding. He looks up from his textbook, a faint feeling of surprise that he even heard the ding through his music. He grabs it and taps on the screen, wincing at the bright light of the background.
TINDER: You got a new match!
As per usual, he taps on the notification and unlocks his phone. He always checks who his new matches are -- that's how he decides whether or not to send them a message.
He stares at the empty chat, your face sat in the middle of the screen. The photo's of you smiling at someone off camera, hair ruffling in an unseen breeze, a gleam of mischief in your eyes. He types out a quick "Yo." before placing his phone back on the desk and returning to the task at hand: studying for his exam in two days.
His focus doesn't last long, as his phone screen lights up this time to indicate that someone -- you, maybe? -- replied to him. He lets out a rather annoyed sigh before taking his phone once more, deciding to ditch studying at this hour and instead opting to flop in bed.
You: very charming first message
He lets out an amused snort by your response to his "Yo." and he rolls his eyes.
Tsukishima: It got you to reply, didn't it?
His eyes track the screen for a few minutes, hoping your reply would come as fast as it did before.
After mindlessly scrolling through Instagram Reels for thirty minutes -- because TikTok's subpar -- he realizes you must've fallen asleep. After all, he'd hate if you didn't reply in the end, since you were different from the usual Tinder interaction.
He goes to sleep that night with the thought of you on his mind. It was no easy feat to get him to laugh in general, much less so in the first interaction. Unbeknownst to you, you managed to do just that, which made you his latest fixation.
#bookskeepers writes#tsukishima kei#tsukki#tsukishima#kei#tsukishima kei x reader#kei x reader#haikyuu!! x reader#drabble#drabbles#writing drabble#writing#fanfic#haikyuu!!#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu!#hq tsukishima#hq tsukki#hq kei#haikyuu kei#haikyuu tsukishima#haikyuu tsukki#tsukki x reader#tsukishima x reader#third time's the charm
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Hiii your blog is extremely hot and also makes me viscerally uncomfortable in the best way đľâđŤđ
I'm fascinated to know, what was the relationship between you and your ex-gf before a man came into your life?
Were you already broken up? Or did you only break up when you tried cock for the first time? How did you both get into this kink? Was it one of you first who then corrupted the other? If you got dicked by mutual agreement, how did you agree on the guy?
I want to know everything đ you're living your best life and I'm so jealous
(Apologies if you've already answered these questions/told these stories elsewhere- if you have if you could just link me to the posts I'd super appreciate it đĽş)
Hi :) first of all, thank you hehe! Im glad youâre enjoying my blog đ. Me and my ex-gf had been together for about a year and a half before we decided to switch things up. Neither of us had tried cock before so we kinda just went for it one night after a long honest discussion about kinks (literally found him through fucking tinder đ). The threesome was a mind blowing experience with a lot of realizations (he was an insanely good fuck and we both got absolutely railed by him, i have no idea what he was doing on tinder). I kind of fell for him after we hooked up a few more times (call me cockdrunk) and my ex-gf wasnât sure about her sexuality anymore either, so we cut it off so she could explore further. Im with him now but we do hook up with my ex-gf occasionally. Im still close to her!
The funny part is we were both veryâŚagainst the idea of sleeping with cis men until we were honest during our kink talk. He shut us up quite quickly (literally, not to be explicit but gagging on his dick changed me LMAO). Thereâs a lot that has happened but heâs genuinely made my sex life more satisfying đŽâđ¨ getting fucked by a man was what was missing for me to be honest.
Theres a lot that went on obviously but this is just a quick summary haha!
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https://www.tumblr.com/lukesaprince/760333452093603840/guys-i-just-had-the-best-first-hookup-of-my-life
Did you go all the way?
Wait Omggg give us the teaaa (only if you want ofc)
I didn't!! I'd love to tell every single detail because there were just so many hot moments and good moments I could write an entire fic about it but I'll give a good summary of the highlights HAHAH.
This has decent detail below so if youâre not interested or donât want to know just warning youuuu. He also knows Iâm spilling what happened lol
For some context we started speaking Friday night and then went out for drinks Saturday which was VERY spontaneous of me like I've never done that before but I just had a good feeling about him. Last week I nearly went out with this other guy and didn't go because I just felt so sick like my body knew something was wrong before even meeting him. I didn't feel that at all with this guy so I was like yolo
I'm going to try and keep this as short as possible haha but before meeting up I kinda said that I wasn't very experienced. The app we met on is like tinder on steroids and very sex/kink based like it's used a lot by the kink community and those in open relationships or whatever (which I had no idea about before joining lol) so his bio was very open about him being an experienced dom.
When we met for drinks we had a really good chat! Started off with basic first date things and then it went into a more sex based conversation. It was a really good open, honest back and forward conversation about our experiences and what we want. I was very open about all my past issues and my inexperience and my anxiety and he was just so good about everything.
After a lot of back and forth and flirting hehe we decided to go back to his place. He walked me to my car and we exchange instas and he sends me his address. Then all of a sudden he grabs me by my neck and pulls me in for a kiss but stopped with like an inch gap between us and I was so confused and kind of laughed and then he deadass whispers 'say please' and I wanted to die then and there. đ
Before we did anything we just kissed a lot and he gave me complete control over what we were going to do. It was all up to me and what I was comfortable with which I really liked and then from there he took control.
Before going down on me he really took his time kissing me and touching me and he was so hot like he was just touching my clit a little and asked if I had any toys like a dildo and I said I did but I get bored using it HAHA. THEN he had the fucking audacity to ask if I knew where my g-spot was and I unfortunately have short fingers so I do not and he goes âitâs right hereâ and deadass right on here he pressed right against my g-spot with his finger I thought I was going to DIE. Definitely wasnât bored after that let me say that haha.
So then he starts going down on me and is using his fingers and it was really good like he knew what he was doing. It was a weird feeling going from my vibrator to something softer and for a second I thought I wouldnât cum because it felt good but different and more internally than on my clit? Idk if that makes sense. Anyway it felt really good and all of a sudden he stops and heâs like âwaitâ so he gets up to get a towel and then comes back and guys he made me squirt I was SHOCKED. thatâs why it felt different because it was a completely different orgasm I was like woah
Anyway HAHA he comes back up to lay with me and he asked me if I was okay and if it was okay and I was like yeah⌠and so he says âI bet I can make you squirt againâ and I doubted him fr I was like âthe second orgasm is always slowerâ THEN HE GOES âI bet I can even count downâ guys I fucking died you donât understand. Anyway he made me squirt again in like two seconds and yeah đśâđŤď¸ and somewhere in there he spanked me right on my clit and ugh
After that I started to go down on him and I loved it like genuinely I loved every second. He was guiding me a lot and talking me through all of it which was so hot and helpful because I had no idea what I was doing. I started between his legs on the bed and then we kept switching positions so I could get a feel of different things. My mouth was so dry though so we had to use lube but genuinely I couldnât get saliva in my mouth. He kept fucking my mouth a bit which was hot and kind of helped because I was gagging on him but we still needed the lube which was so fine and no big deal at all. At one point he just grabbed my hair and spat into my mouth too đđ
We did 69 for a bit with me on top đśâđŤď¸ and then I laid at the end of the bed with my head hanging off and he fucked my mouth đđ AND part way through he pulled me up by my hair and kissed me like he didnât give a fuck his dick was just in my mouth.
Then I got on my knees on the floor and I think that was my favourite because I loved when he looked down at me đđđđ he was just guiding me and tugging on my hair when I asked him to. He ended up grabbing a riding crop he had and spanked me a bit while I was down there which I loved too. I pretty much love everything lol.
He was saying the dirtiest things too like he was praising me and guiding me đđ
Then we got back up onto the bed because I wanted to make him cum and he was explaining exactly how to do it and deadass with his cock in my mouth goes something like âyour mouth is so good are you sure youâre not lyingâ like about not giving a bj before and I DIED!!! I felt like the hottest person alive in that moment I was having the time of my life.
Once it was all over we cuddled a lot and had a debrief about everything and just random chats too. We probably spent a good half an hour just laying on his bed then sitting on his couch talking about it all and what I liked and thought about everything. He was so good at making me feel safe and comfortable and he kept joking about my fics and including details from our night in there and ugh.
He walked me to my car and kissed me goodnight and we both kind of hinted at seeing each other again so I really hope we do. Weâve been texting a bit since so fingers crossed I can see him again because I honestly just want to try everything and I feel like heâs a good person to do that with. I donât want to get too attached but I already donât want to go back on the dating app because I want to see him again but yeah thatâs it
I genuinely canât get over how safe and comfortable I felt the entire time like I didnât think about what I looked like once I was just having fun and loving every second of it. I think for my first experience it couldnât have been more perfect đ
If youâve made it this far thanks for being nosy I guess I hope you enjoyed the story HAHAHA
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Have you used dating apps? Which one(s)?
Not sure if this was supposed to be a poll but because anon didn't specify what they wanted I'll just write my experience with dating apps.
I only got tinder for one day and after that I stopped using it. Sure its maybe great for het women who want to find a boyfriend but for gay women it's really, really, really hard. It's like I can't find any gay girl in my city or someone that lives near me. If I find a girl who's also gay the shes either taken, lives far away, not my type, too old for me or she's dating my sister.
But I don't see this as a huge loss. You see, I met my past gfs in very strange places like on deviantart, tumblr, Instagram. Yknow? Places where you really wouldn't expect to find a gf.
- đ
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Possibly an odd question, butâŚâŚdo you have advice on how to be a slut? Iâm recently out as a gay trans man, in my 30âs, only ever been with straight cisgender men, and I have no idea where to start. Being on testosterone has helped with the dysphoria, but I canât seem to let go of old habits from when I was a girl having sex with guys. You can ignore this if you donât feel comfortable answering, I just thought given the nature of your blog you might have some really good insights
It's not an odd question at all, Anon - I think that for a lot of trans MLM and other people who were raised as or spent a long time being perceived as women transitioning to MLM spaces, it can be a really strange feeling because like... The attitudes to sex and pleasure are just so completely different.
In the West, the culture around sexual and dating life for women who have sex with men is obviously heavily influenced by patriarchal sexual objectification of women, and like...
I do want to write a bit more about this at some point, but straight hook-up and casual dating apps like Tinder and Hinge and so on came after Grindr, and while through the 00s and the 10s there's been a sense of sexual liberation for women who have sex with men, like... Many men still think of women as prizes to be won or status symbols and extensions of their reputation; many people as a rule still think of women as sexually disposable and easily exchangeable, and more than that, they think that women are permanently marked or have their value reduced by the amount of sex or sexual partners they have.
While there has been more discussion and awareness of consent within broader society, ultimately we still live in a patriarchal rape culture that positions men as sexual aggressors and women as receivers of sexual aggression, and ultimately like--
There's the obvious safety concerns to be taken into account, the understanding that women undertake a lot of risk of sexual violence in their pursuit of casual dating and hook-ups specifically because of the way that women are viewed and treated, and obviously with everything I've just said, none of it prioritises women's pleasure or even takes it into account unless it's the performance of pleasure for the sake of male viewers' titillation and satisfaction.
How can you meaningfully communicate about consent and pleasure, as someone perceived as a cis woman, with a cisgender man who thinks of you as sub-human, or as a prize or achievement to be won? How can you talk about what feels good and what you want from sex when your pleasure is viewed and talked about not only as an afterthought, but as something that's inherently less important than the pleasure of the men you have sex with?
How can you talk about sex and desire at all, when the culture you live in says in many ways, implicit and explicit, that you are not capable of such things, and shouldn't be? When it claims that women are sexually desirable, but men are not sexually desirable at all, and are merely beasts to be withstood and endured? When sex itself is something you're meant to be on the "receiving end" of, with your pleasure a side consideration if you're very lucky, and not a mutual experience you share with another person?
Cis women who have sex with men have all that to consider, and as trans men (or other trans people), we're also grappling with our dysphoria, our own feelings about our bodies and sex and desire, our relationships to other men, and particularly to the culture that's in MLM spaces.
I have two guides below - one is about vulvar and vaginal stimulation which is intended for masturbation and self-exploration, but is also good to explore with partners. I think one of the most powerful things we can have in our arsenals is understanding of our own body and our own likes and desires, and hopefully this can be a good starting place for that!
The second is a basic guide to using Grindr as a trans man (it should be usable for nonbinary and other trans ppl), and it also discusses some of the specifics in MLM cruising culture in passing.
Ringing The Devilâs Doorbell: A Light-Hearted, Practical Guide â Letâs talk sex! Vulvar and vaginal stimulation for fun, pleasure, and profit. On Medium.
Looking For đđđŚ: A Beginnerâs Guide to Grindr for Trans Men â Approaching Grindr and M/M cruising culture as a trans man. On Patreon / / On Medium.
Feel free to mention any specific bad habits you're having trouble with in follow-up asks, because I'm obviously not you and don't know your personal experiences.
I will say that like... If you do feel you have old habits that are things like not communicating your needs and desires or going silent, faking orgasms, going still and letting someone else "do" sex with you, etc, like.
The use of the phrase "habit" here troubles me a bit, you know? I feel like "old habit" might mean "bad habit" and like...
Cisgender women who do these things are not acting in a vaccuum, and nor are any trans people who are or were perceived as cis women. Nor are you. These are things that people ultimately do out of shame, trauma, uncertainty, fear of communicating explicitly, and a lack of confidence that is firmly embedded in us by a dominant culture that ultimately hates us. Hates women, employs misogyny, but also hates any kind of gender variance, as well as sex that's employed for reasons other than cis patriarchal sexual satisfaction and impregnation.
My point being that none of it is your fault. Not being confident with casual sex with men and/or with sex in general even though you'd like to embrace a slut era is not something to be ashamed of, it's not on you - apart from any dysphoria you might be feeling, even if you haven't experienced sexual violence or abuse, pretty much everyone has some ingrained traumas and fears given to us by the culture we live in, especially when we've been perceived as and treated as women.
So, how do we start with it?
Grindr is the obvious place to start for a lot of MLM - it's easy, it's convenient, it's right there. You might have safety concerns, though, because of the relative anonymity of it, especially if you haven't had sex or been in community with other MLM and queer men before, and you don't feel as comfortable navigating and measuring social or suspicious ones, especially over text!
When I went back to using Grindr after like eight years being celibate for Trauma Reasons, I went for fucking dudes who were staying in hotels - they were tourists, a lot of them, so I wasn't necessarily going to see them a bunch of times afterwards, but also, I preferred the safety of a hotel to seeing people at their homes.
Hotels are staffed, in public places, where you're easily within reach of other people, and unlike in apartment blocks or houses in neighbourhoods, people aren't going to ignore any loud noise and go "Oh it's none of my business" - they'll probably come out to see what the matter is. They also have private ensuite bathrooms, which is a nice convenience and not always guaranteed at someone's home.
Honestly, though? That's very much worse case scenario stuff.
One of the benefits of Grindr for me is that we normally talk in quite explicit terms before meeting up what we like, what we might want from the encounter - and when we meet up, it's normally pretty easy to communicate what we want out loud, saying, "let's do this" or "I like this" aloud as we touch and kiss each other.
The thing about MLM cruising culture and casual sex is that like...
For cis men and women, there is a vision of sex that's going to be upheld - they kiss. They lie in bed together. He puts his penis in her vagina. He thrusts until he comes. Sex is complete, because the man has come.
A lot of people will even refer to penis-in-vagina sex as "real" sex, or have ideas that penetrative sex is the only "real" or "full" sex because of its resemblance to PIV sex. Even when we talk about "foreplay", foreplay is considered almost a necessary evil to "ready" yourself for the real sex - the penetration.
Within MLM cruising culture, while penetration is absolutely the primary goal for a lot of people as a top or bottom, there are also sides (people who don't top or bottom), and even within topping and bottoming, there's plenty of other sex acts. Oral sex, nipple play, jacking each other off, massage, kink acts, etc.
I've had guys come over just to suck me off and then be like "thanks, I'm done" and go - and I've also BEEN that guy, because I love sucking dick, and sometimes it's its own reward.
The encounter is not necessarily finished because the top has orgasmed, either - if you are having penetrative sex, a lot of tops will make sure the bottom has come at least once first (just in terms of muscle relaxation, this is actually a good tip for vaginismus and/or tight anal and vaginal muscles), or they'll come and then start going down on you or fingering you because it's your turn now.
It's not all as simple as "taking turns" or anything, but the thing about MLM cruising culture is that like...
The whole basis of men meeting up to have sex with each other is that we love other men and we desire them. We desire to feel good with other men and to make other men feel good. It's historically been based in anonymity because this desire for each other and the nature of this desire had to be kept clandestine for our safety, but because of its clandestine and simultaneously casual (as in, unattached) nature, it is in many ways extremely sexually liberated.
MLM often explore different kinks and explore different people's desires and their bodies - it's curious and explorative, and a lot of it is about exploring different sex acts, positions, and perspectives of sexuality and relationships, because we already exist in counter to the mainstream cultural shames around sex. Just by desiring men and seeing men as desirable (especially as men ourselves), we're going against the domiannt perspective of the binary as like, women are beautiful, men are ugly.
While there are absolutely people who treat cruising as something transactional just for them to get their rocks off, it's a fundamentally different culture and philosophy around desire and sexuality compared to what exists with casual sex and dating for heterosexual people.
I'm sorry this is so much based in your potential perspective and the cultural aspects rather than specific explicit tips on how to slut around, so I will give a few specific tips on that now! It's just hard to know what angle you're looking for, and I do think a lot of the hardest part is changing our perspectives and exploring what we actually desire and need from our sex life.
So, some practical tips on slutting around:
testosterone is not a contraceptive! if you can't use a hormonal contraceptive like the pill or the implant, there are non-hormonal IUDs that you can use at the same time as condoms. if you want to fuck without condoms and can't use hormonal contraceptives, there's also the cap or contraceptive diaphragm!
you can buy condoms in bulk and it's so much cheaper - even the big brands will have bulk-buy options by the few dozen, and it's worth doing. always try and carry a few in your bag, have a few in your medicine cabinet. never go to a hook-up assuming they'll have condoms - always ask in advance and bring a few along!
regular size condoms will be fine in most scenarios, but your hook-up might need a larger size and/or have a latex allergy, so again, asking in advance is always a good idea
emergency contraceptives are not contraindicated with your testosterone. emergency contraceptives are also not contraindicated with emergency PEP (post-exposure prophylaxis), which will prevent you from contracting HIV after exposure. it is important after unprotected vaginal sex that you take both of these into account.
get tested regularly - if you do use Grindr, Grindr can actually regularly remind you to get your STI tests, especially your HIV! otherwise, every 3 to 6 months is a good shout depending on how much sex you're having - even if you never bareback and are on multiple contraceptives, regular STI tests (and pregnancy tests) are a good idea just in case. in ireland (and in some places in the UK), they will even let you do your STI tests for free by post!
use toys while you're having sex if you like them! Use a vibrator, use a vibrating cock ring, play around with it, have some fun! try different condoms - flavoured, ribbed, etc - and try different positions, too. explore, enjoy!
check out local queer and kink groups - there might be local BDSM meet-ups, kink events, raves etc, and it can be nice to be in touch with the local community, and you can pick up skills too, like by doing bondage workshops etc
try and hang out with other MLM, especially other trans MLM! even when you know in your own head that you desire men and to be desired by them, just being in community with other men where that desire is normalised and celebrated does so much to fucking kill the cishetero patriarchal brainworms. it takes a lot of time for any of us to unlearn that shit, and it's a process!
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How I manifested SP in less than 24h
Disclaimer: this is not a method, just my experience
The story actually starts 2 days before it begins, you see, I wasn't interested in looking for a partner, I was completely uninterested in romance and I saw it as a bother.
I went for a walk and decided to visit the new antique shop in my town.
The first thing I saw, as I walked in, was the cashier, a young man. I didn't even see him properly, but I felt the lightning strike in my heart, I pushed my feelings far away inside, as I didn't want to fall for anyone, I wasn't in a place for love and also it was unplanned, and I like to have my life calculated a bit more.
Even though I knew that he liked me too, we didn't really talk nor flirt, so I left the store and went back to my regular life forgetting about him.
Yet the situation broke something inside me, and I started thinking about getting into a relationship.
First I decided to break the old story.
I was always telling myself that there is no need to segregate my clothes in the drawer as I'm the only one seeing it, and that once I get into a relationship (that was supposed to be never) I'd finally segregate them.
Now as I decided that I want a partner I started affirming that I have a boyfriend, and I segregated my clothes because now I "had" a bf rightđđđťââď¸?
Then I put on my favourite dress and went shopping. I pushed myself into the more crowded places and affirmed that I have a bf and he is the best blahblahblah
As I went back home I made a Tinder account (tbh it was purely to make friends bc I finished school and that finished most of my friendships)
And I found the guy from the antique shop, swiped right just for the fun of it and it was a match.
We spend the night talking on discord, we met in person the next day and since then we are seeing each other every day.
He is everything I've ever wished for, and I manifested him in less than 24h
I'm in a very loving relationship
Fun facts
We made our Tinder accounts the same day, and he was praying for a girl at the same time I was manifesting a bf
#loa#neville goddard#non dualism#loa tumblr#loassumption#nd#shiftblr#law of assumption#loablr#loa blog#manifestation#sp manifestation#successful manifestation#loa storytime#reality shift
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Howdy friend! I feel like that meme with doctor eggman that just walked in on rouge and shadow having a spirited discussion on something I have no pretext about. But it sounds important and I do wanna educate myself if there's a lacking somewhere, genuinely. From what I understood from scrolling down to a screenshot poll and other screens, it's trying to figure out if people are automatically taking frat boys (the classic stereotype kind, btw, genuinely players) in good faith by queer-ifying them because they have been fortunately unfortunate enough to not have the life experience of being used by this type of person that will take their good faith and hurt them?
Because I do think that there *could* be a cishet aro man out there, if it's defined very explicitly as: a man (born with a penis and identifies as he/him) and likes women (including trans women) and is aromantic. Face value wise, that is.
Because the question wasn't if the hypothetical man was superstraight (and don't count trans people at all) or just pussy-seeking (i.e. looking to have sex with ciswomen and trans men who haven't had bottom surgery, is explicitly Not transphobic). Or if this hypothetical man wasn't also, say, a "friend" met at a party/tinder/hookup/through mutuals/etc that is really just an acquaintance with little of substance genuinely known...or if this man was actually what one would consider a genuine friend. Or if this hypothetical man was poly (and/or if you were poly honestly, this feels like this is being framed in a mono mindset, which is okay! But poly adds extra details to account for). Also if he was out as aro.
The point is, I am aware of cheating. I am aware of using terms to get around cheating. Or trying to justify it. But aromantizim by itself isn't cheating. Poly by itself isn't cheating. FwB by itself, or hooking up by itself, or sex work by itself, isn't cheating- if there is informed consent on both sides with all affected parties, which includes all other partners. Wanting to sleep around isn't a crime, regardless of who or where or what gender.
I know there's plenty of men that aren't allies, that are homophobic or transphobic or sexist, but that wasn't the question. You aren't making that distinction or posing a scenario, just a screenshot without any added distinction other that the consent (after it was asked for by voters). It's taking the assumption that practicing genuine safe sex ( not that bullshit abstinence thing schools and "god fearing Christians" teach), is limited to only cishetero men... And not something to practice with everyone.
It shouldn't matter my gender or background or beliefs or sexuality, since these are simply opinions and all opinions come with grains of salt, but I know if I don't add context of me being the one giving these opinions, I'll be discredited.
I'm a cis-women (so very petrifiyingly aware of that Fear/wariness of being approached at night by strangers, or followed. I don't like ANYONE strange coming up to me, regardless of gender, a woman can stab me as much as a man can rape me, but I feel like I know the mindset extreme examples being presented here so there were go).
I'm demi-omnisexualromantic. Everyone's free game once I get to know them on a genuine emotional level. We HAVE to be besties (or we have to never ever see each other again if I'm gonna sleep with you and you're not a friend, oh gOD WHAT IF I FART OR THEY'RE A SERIAL KILLER OH GOD).
I'm poly. The first thing is with my girlfriend and our paramour, since we are the "oringal polycule" is had a sit down discussion about what we agreed upon what being in a relationship is like (we happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to each other btw). It was Poly from the start and Open from the start. We are all okay and open to each other going out to bdsm clubs or kink parties or sleeping around, or if asking out cute people..... BUT we have to ask permission/inform the other partners in our polycule. There's nothing to hide and they consent. They can say no, and that's okay!! Because then!! We can have an open and honest discussion as to why (lonely, conflicting plans, insecurity, safety worries, etc). Also also, anyone new that's meant to become a fwb or a pet needs to know about and meet our polycule, and it's a one-no situation here. If *anyone* is uncomfortable, nothing goes forward.
Sex is nice, sex is great if you're a freak like me and into that sorta thing; and sexual safety awareness and stranger danger awareness and informed consent awareness is MAJORLY IMPORTANT AND CRITICAL AND EVERYONE SHOULD BE TAUGHT THIS IN SCHOOL OH GOD but in my humble opinion the execution has spiraled into something messy with rampant misunderstanding and accidental invalidation of aro-spec men, poly people, and our allies,,, as well as anyone trying to be open-minded even if they dont understand.
Telling people that they're naive and ignorant isn't going to teach them a lesson you appear to feel strongly that they need to learn, it only shames and makes them not likely to actually follow the good advice (?) that's being presented in a not-clear format.
And it also earns you a buncha people getting angry because they don't understand the question actually being asked because the context wasn't clarified or what the actual answer is in a no patronizing manner/delivery,, and I'm sure you're feeling very much harassed and exhausted for answers that have little to nothing to do with your actual question, and I'm really sorry for that because I've been there and I hate this for you because it's exhausting and dispiriting to find people who never got taught how to keep themselves safe... But I'm also happy that they haven't had to learn it the hard way *yet* and that I can still help, or even that the people I was so stressed over not having the lesson... Actually DO know the answer but just misunderstood the question or that I just asked it confusingly!!
Anyway, sorry for the extremely long ask, double sorry if I misunderstood anything you were trying to say or explained anything that you already know. But if you could clarify in your own words and time, I would be very grateful! If not, that's still okay and I hope you take care of yourself out there, friend! Also, I'm on anon less because I'm ashamed of my opinion, and more because I don't want anyone else randomly messaging me back because they don't like me for my views online and I happen to really like this account dghjfedhjfdsjk
oh my god i thought there was a character limit on anons. what am i even being asked here? i literally just woke up and opened my inbox and made this face
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Dating Apps
I hate dating. Iâm deleting the apps (hinge & tinder). HOWEVER, thereâs Feeld. Iâve known about it, but I never took it seriously.
HOWEVER, I started taking it seriously this morning. I canât lie, I love peopleâs attitudes on there. Tinder and Hinge feel so cold. Raya is a popularity contest where people are too cool to be real and authentic.
People seem really honest, human, and kind on Feeld though. The bios are written without the nonchalant airs sometimes seen on the other apps and people just seem like theyâre searching for genuine human connection. Whether itâs friendship, mutual friendly pleasure, or just connection and realness, the app residents just seem chill. Kindness seems to be the law of the land there.
I love how open to honest communication people are on there. The app users seriously set a precedent of kindness and authenticity.
Iâve actually had fun swiping on there this morning.
WITH ALL THIS BEING SAID.
The LAST THING I need or want is a relationshipâand I mean this from the bottom of my core.
My last relationship morphed into a mother-child dynamic. IT SUCKED MY SOUL and drained the life out of me. Right now, I DO NOT need to be responsible for another human being like that. I only have the emotional capacity to heal myself. I CANNOT concern myself with another person in the way that a relationship requiresâand I canât do this for a VERY long time.
I truly want to be single for a while. Being paired up slows me down. Itâs also just fucking horrible. Based off my past relationship and the twoish flings I had before that, I donât want to be in a relationship again. They have never been emotionally, spiritually, or sexually beneficial to me.
EVER.
IF I end up dating someone again, itâll be the result of a friendship where care, patience, and consideration for me are demonstrated.
Ever since this breakup, Iâve really been paying attention to how my main four friends make me feel. They make me feel WONDERFUL and uplifted. They listen to me and they respect my boundaries. Whenever we argue, we arenât defensive. We argue with the purpose of solving the issue (as opposed to arguing to win the argument).
If Iâm going to involve myself deeply with a person again, whoever they are has to make me feel as goodâand even better than my friends do.
I swear to god. If I befriend a guy and I can sense the friendship start to move toward a sexual area (Iâm not closed off to this in some cases) and ANY OF MY BOUNDARIES ARE PUSHED, Iâm running. (NOTE: I had to stress âguy,â because Iâve never experienced predatory boundary pushing with women partners)
No friendship is worth a pushed boundary.
As far as sex goes, I WILL NEVER sit through mutually unbeneficial sex AGAIN. Iâm a 30 year old woman. I do not HAVE TO have bad sex if I donât want to.
Nine years of bad sex has caused me to be so indifferent toward the act that I no longer care about grinning and bearing it. For me to have it, it MUST be good. If itâs not, Iâm getting up and leaving the second I sense an ounce of selfishness.
Another rule Iâm sticking to is ABSOLUTELY no sex without a minimum of 30 minutes of foreplay. If a prospective partner thinks that excessive or too much, I can respect that and will support them and myself in parting ways.
I must be kept happy and I must be kept fulfilled. The old attitudes that prioritized âkeeping a man,â and âkeeping a man happy,â are dead and dying. Women are realizing that we no longer have to do this.
With the amount of work and stress that I have, Iâd be stupid and seeking self destruction to willingly add to my caseload a human being who takes away from my experience.
Sex and relationships are supposed to be pleasurable, but authentic and constructive. Not harmful and selfish.
With all this being said, Iâm gonna rewrite my bio on Feeld. I WANT to match the openness I see on there. I really canât lie, the guys on there actually seem like cool and safe people. My friends whoâve used the app also report similar things.
Guys who are cool and safe can make good friends. Iâm getting over this relationship, Iâm also getting over and trying to avoid sentiments that lean toward misandry. Men exist. Their existence is NOT inherently a bad thing. Theyâre a part of nature and that means that they can be existed alongside with harmoniously.
I LOVE harmonious friendships with people. Those are fulfilling. If I strike up a friendship with a dude and I sense sexual tension and IM DOWN FOR IT, then Iâm so open to a beautiful friendship like that.
As for anything resembling the nearly 6 yearâŚthing I just exited, NEVER AGAIN. âLoveâ doesnât mean that someone should spiritually and emotionally die and suffer just for the wellbeing of the parasitic other. Thats not love. Fuck ALL that.
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