#and i want to see the florida man whoever he is

[the-pheal]

Pheal, are you joining your dads on the US leg of the tour?

hi! thank you for your question. i'm not sure, they didn't take me this time around :/ but hopefully they will now!

i do miss the cuddles :'3

- pheal <3

[reidmarieprentiss]

Federal Beach Investigation

Summary: You are on spring break in Florida where the BAU is investigating a string of murders.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: talks of case, danger, slapping, fear, investigation

Word count: 4k

a/n: i can just imagine our poor baby wanting to help but scaring us so bad because he doesn't know how to not be serious

main masterlist

The sun was setting over the Florida beach, casting a warm orange glow over the lively spring break crowd. Music pulsed through the air, the bass thumping in time with the waves crashing against the shore. You had been dancing for what felt like hours, your feet moving instinctively to the beat, your skin glistening with sweat and salt from the ocean breeze. Your friends were still lost in the music, but you decided it was time for a small break. You excused yourself with a laugh and made your way toward the bar, craving something cold and refreshing.

As you waited for the bartender to circle back to you, your eyes drifted over the lively scene. People were dancing, laughing, and soaking in the carefree vibe that only a spring break beach party could offer. The bartender was busy mixing drinks, his hands a blur as he catered to the rowdy crowd. You tapped your fingers on the bar, your thoughts a pleasant buzz from the music and the warm evening air.

Suddenly, you felt it—a hand on your bare waist, gentle but firm, like it belonged there. Your first instinct was to spin around and give whoever it was a piece of your mind. You didn’t need random people touching you, especially not some guy who probably thought he could flirt his way into your night. But just as your irritation started to build, a low voice spoke into your ear, calm but urgent.

“Don’t panic,” the voice said, his breath warm against your skin. “There’s a man who’s been following you. I’m an agent with the FBI. I need you to look and tell me if you know him.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the casual atmosphere of the beach party shattering in an instant. FBI? Following you? This had to be a joke, right? You slowly turned your head, trying to get a look at the person speaking to you. He was tall, with a lean build that seemed out of place amidst the carefree beachgoers. His eyes were serious, and there was a calm authority in his demeanor that made you believe he could be telling the truth. But your stomach churned with nerves, disbelief mingling with fear.

“Who?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper. You scanned the crowd behind him, your gaze darting over the masses of people dancing, drinking, and enjoying the night. It was a sea of faces, none of them standing out. “There’s so many people.”

The agent kept his hand on your waist, a grounding presence in the chaos. “He’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. On the beach.”

You blinked, the description clicking in your mind. Who the hell wears jeans and a long-sleeve to a beach party? Your eyes narrowed as you scanned the crowd more carefully, searching for the oddity in the sea of swimsuits and sundresses. Then you saw him—a man standing a little too still, a little too focused. His dark jeans and long-sleeved shirt made him stick out like a sore thumb among the beachgoers. And his eyes... they were locked on you.

Your stomach dropped. “Oh, I see him,” you said, your voice shaky. “No, I don’t know who that is.”

The agent’s grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, a subtle reassurance. “Okay,” he said calmly, his tone professional. “Just stay with me. We’re going to move, casually, like nothing’s wrong. We’ll blend in with the crowd.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. The beach that had felt so full of life and fun now seemed filled with shadows and threats. You could feel your pulse quicken, but the agent’s steady presence kept you grounded. Together, you started to move through the crowd, his hand never leaving your waist, guiding you with a quiet confidence that made you believe that everything would be okay.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Why is the FBI here?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion and a touch of fear as the agent continued to guide you further away from the crowded beach. The music and laughter seemed distant now, replaced by the pounding of your heart and the seriousness of the situation.

The agent glanced at you, his expression unreadable but his tone reassuring. “I’ll tell you everything as soon as I know you’re safe.”

You hesitated but followed him, your mind racing with a million questions. Who was this guy? What was happening? Why did it have to involve you? The warm sand shifted beneath your feet as you walked, the noise of the party growing fainter until you finally reached an SUV parked away from the crowd. The agent moved swiftly, opening the door for you, his demeanor professional yet urgent. But as you looked at the open door, a nagging doubt crept into your mind.

“Um… can you show me your credentials?” you asked, your voice steady despite the rising tension. “I don’t want to just get in your car.”

The agent paused, his expression softening with understanding. “Yeah, sorry, of course.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a badge, flipping it open to reveal his identification. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI.”

You examined the badge, your eyes scanning the information quickly. The name, the title, the official seal—it all seemed legitimate. You nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. “Okay, okay.” You slid into the car, the cool leather of the seat a stark contrast to the warmth of the beach. Spencer closed the door behind you before rounding the SUV to get in on the other side.

Once inside, he took a moment to glance at you, his eyes softening just a bit. “Thank you for coming with me,” he started, his voice gentle. “My team is here investigating a string of murders. I was canvassing the beach when I saw you.”

“Saw me?” you repeated, your confusion deepening. “I thought you said the man was following me.”

“Yeah, yes, he is… was,” Spencer corrected, fumbling slightly with his words. He seemed to take a breath before continuing, his tone more focused. “You fit the victimology of the women who have been kidnapped and assaulted. I was on my way to talk to you when I noticed him watching you.”

Your stomach dropped at his words, a cold shiver running down your spine. “So you just let him go?” you asked, the fear creeping back into your voice.

“Not exactly,” Spencer replied quickly, shaking his head. “My partner went after him.”

You took a deep breath, trying to process everything. Your mind was spinning with all the new information, and you couldn’t quite wrap your head around what had just happened. “Okay… so now what? Are you going to take me back to my hotel?” you asked, hoping for some clarity, some direction.

“I can do that,” Spencer replied, his voice hesitant. “Or really, you could go back to the beach, I—I’m not entirely sure where to go from here.”

You blinked at him, surprised by his uncertainty. “Haven’t you done this before?”

“Well, yes. But I have never taken a potential victim to my car… I guess I got swept up,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly, as if embarrassed by his own confession.

“You said I can leave, right?” you pressed, your wariness growing.

“Yes, of course. Do you want me to check if my partner got the guy?” he asked, his concern evident in his voice.

“No, I’m good, thank you,” you replied quickly, the alarm bells in your mind growing louder.

Without another word, you jumped out of the car, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t look back as you sprinted away from the SUV, putting as much distance between you and the agent as possible. His nervous energy, his fumbling words, his uncertainty—it all made you question if he was really who he said he was. What if he was the one after you?

Spencer watched as you bolted from the car, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he slumped back in his seat. The realization hit him hard: he had been the one to creep you out. Emily always joked that his IQ dropped around pretty girls, but this time, it seemed like his entire common sense had taken a nosedive. Why did he take you to the car? He knew better than that. Now, he was left staring after you, hoping you wouldn’t be putting yourself into trouble by going back to the beach.

Spencer’s phone rang, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen before answering, “Spencer Reid.”

“Reid, that wasn’t our guy. He was just your garden variety pervert, creeping on girls in swimsuits,” Derek’s voice came through, casual but with a hint of annoyance.

“Seriously?” Spencer’s heart sank. “So he’s still out there?”

“Yeah, we didn’t have anything on him. What’s up?” Derek asked, sensing something was off.

Spencer hesitated before admitting, “That girl, she just went back to the beach.”

“Why?” Derek’s curiosity was evident.

“I… scared her,” Spencer confessed, feeling a twinge of guilt.

There was a pause, and then Derek chuckled, the amusement clear in his voice. “She thought you were the unsub, didn’t she?” Spencer could practically see Derek’s smirk through the phone.

“Shut up,” Spencer grumbled, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “...Yes.”

Derek’s laughter echoed through the phone. “Well, maybe you should find her, explain yourself. She did fit the victimology; maybe she knows our unsub.”

Spencer sighed, knowing Derek was right. “Great. Got it.”

“Good luck, pretty boy. Don’t scare her again,” Derek teased before hanging up.

Spencer pocketed his phone, feeling the weight of the situation settle on his shoulders. He had to find you and explain, not just for his sake, but because there was still a dangerous man out there—and you might be closer to him than anyone realized.

—

“You guys, it was so weird!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of disbelief and lingering fear as you recounted the events to your friends. “He just grabbed me, and then there was this guy watching me, and then the agent or doctor or whoever he was took me to his car! I thought I was going to be kidnapped!”

Lynn’s eyes widened in horror. “That’s so scary! What did the guy look like?”

“He was tall, lanky, had shaggy hair, kind of a pretty boy, and he was wearing a button-up shirt. Like, come on, it’s hot out here!” you said, shaking your head in disbelief at the memory.

Jayce suddenly stiffened, their eyes darting past you. “Uhhh, I swear to God that guy is walking over here right now,” they said, their voice tinged with panic.

“What?” You whipped around, your heart skipping a beat when you saw Spencer approaching. “Oh, hell no. We gotta move.”

Without wasting another second, you and your friends started weaving through the groups of people on the beach, trying to put as much distance between you and the man who had just turned your evening upside down.

“Wait! I’m sorry! I need to talk to you!” Spencer called out, his voice strained as he picked up his pace, trying to catch up to you. But the crowded beach made it difficult for him to move quickly, the sea of partiers barely noticing his attempts to get through. Frustration and desperation colored his tone as he shouted, “FBI! Move!”

You heard him, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins wouldn’t let you stop. You pushed forward, determined to get away. However, Spencer’s long legs finally closed the distance, and you felt his hand grab your wrist, pulling you to a sudden halt.

“Hey! Let me go!” you shouted, spinning around in a flash of panic and anger. Without thinking, you lashed out, your hand connecting with his face in a sharp slap.

Spencer recoiled slightly, his eyes widening in shock, not expecting the slap. But he didn’t let go of your wrist, his grip firm yet gentle. “Please, just listen,” he said, his voice pleading, desperation lacing his words. “I’m not trying to hurt you—I just need to explain.”

But in that moment, all you could think about was getting free, getting away from the man who had scared you more than the potential threat he was supposedly protecting you from.

“Fuck you, let me go, man!” you yelled, twisting and struggling in Spencer’s grip. “This hurts!”

Spencer’s eyes widened, and he immediately loosened his hold, his face a mix of concern and regret. “Okay, okay, what if I have another agent come and talk to you instead? A woman even?” he offered, his voice softening as he tried to calm you down.

“Fine, fine! Just stay away from me,” you demanded, your voice shaky but firm.

Spencer nodded, releasing your wrist and lifting his hands in surrender, showing you he meant no harm. He quickly pulled out his phone and made a call, his voice low as he spoke to someone on the other end. Within minutes, he managed to convince you and your friends to move toward the edge of the beach, away from the crowds, at least until the other agent arrived.

Soon, a blonde woman in a professional yet approachable demeanor approached, her expression warm and reassuring. “Hi, I’m Agent Jareau. I appreciate you speaking with us, and I’m really sorry about Doctor Reid here. He’s completely harmless, I promise. Pretty women and exposed skin tend to make his brain shut down,” she said with a playful smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey!” Spencer protested, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

You couldn’t help but laugh, though it was tinged with nervousness. “What do you guys want, Ms. Jareau?” you asked, your tone cautious but more relaxed now that someone else had taken over.

JJ smiled sympathetically. “Can you come back to the precinct with us? Please? We have some questions regarding the string of murders. You fit the victimology to a T, and we’re curious to know if you might know the unsub.”

You hesitated, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “Okay… I’ll ride with you. But can we drop my friends off at the hotel first?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you,” JJ replied, her tone grateful. She then turned to Spencer, giving him a reassuring nod. “Spence, I got it from here.”

Spencer looked at you one last time, his expression apologetic, before stepping back to let JJ handle the rest. You watched him for a moment, still wary but starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the bad guy in this scenario.

—

At the precinct, you found yourself seated in a quiet office with JJ and Emily. The atmosphere was serious, but both agents carried a sense of calm that put you slightly at ease. They began asking you questions about the man they were looking for, hoping that something you knew might help them catch the unsub.

As they described what they knew so far, you frowned, a memory stirring in the back of your mind. “Um… that kind of sounds like this guy that was hitting on me. His name was Adam,” you said, your voice tentative.

JJ and Emily exchanged a quick glance before Emily leaned forward. “Where is Adam?” she asked, her tone direct but not harsh.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, shaking your head. “We met at one of the bars on the beachfront. He was weird.”

“Weird how?” JJ prompted gently, her eyes searching yours for any detail that might be important.

“He, um, he kept flirting with me, even though I was really clear that I wasn’t looking for anything. Not even a spring break fling,” you explained, the memory of the encounter making you shudder slightly.

Emily’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Did you get his phone number?”

“Yeah, he put it in my phone,” you replied, feeling a bit uneasy as you remembered how insistent he had been. “He was kind of… opposing. Like he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

JJ nodded, her expression serious but understanding. “Okay, can you give us his number, please?”

“Of course,” you said, pulling out your phone and finding the contact information. You handed it over, hoping that this small detail could help them find whoever was responsible for the terrifying situation unfolding around you.

“Can you stay here until we find Adam? We want to make sure you’re safe,” Emily suggested, her tone warm but serious.

You nodded, still processing everything. “Uh, yeah.”

JJ’s expression softened with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm… I feel bad about hitting a federal agent,” you admitted, your voice quiet as the guilt settled in.

Emily’s eyes widened in surprise. “Who did you hit?”

JJ, unable to contain herself, snorted. “Did you hit Reid?”

“Is that the doctor?” you asked, unsure if you were following correctly.

“Yes,” JJ confirmed, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Then yes,” you replied, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Both women burst into laughter, the sound filling the office. You couldn’t help but crack a small smile, even if you still felt awkward about the whole situation.

After a moment, Emily, still chuckling, asked, “Why did you hit him?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “He grabbed my wrist, and I thought… I don’t know, I panicked. He seemed so nervous and awkward, and I was already on edge. I guess I just reacted.”

JJ shook her head, still smiling. “Don’t worry, Reid’s tougher than he looks. He’ll be fine.”

Emily nodded in agreement, a twinkle of humor in her eyes. “Yeah, he’s used to dealing with all sorts of things. I’m sure he’ll understand once we explain everything.”

“Who knows,” JJ said with a playful wiggle of her brows, “maybe he liked it. He couldn’t seem to keep it together around Y/N here.”

Emily burst into genuine laughter, the kind that made heads turn in the precinct. Her amusement was contagious, and you could see a few of the other agents glancing over with curious smiles. Despite still feeling a bit uncomfortable, you found yourself starting to relax, the tension in your shoulders easing as the humor lightened the atmosphere.

“Thank you both,” you said, your voice warm with sincerity. “You’re so nice.”

JJ smiled softly, her earlier teasing tone replaced by one of genuine care. “We’re just glad you’re okay. We’re here to help, and we’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Emily nodded in agreement, still grinning. “You’re in good hands, Y/N. We’ll get this sorted out, don’t worry.”

For the first time that night, you felt a real sense of reassurance. You watched as Emily left the room, her presence comforting, but now it was just you and JJ. As JJ stood up, ready to leave as well, you hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Um, miss?” you called out, your voice soft but steady.

JJ paused, turning back to you with a raised eyebrow, curiosity evident in her expression. “Yes?”

“Do you think I could apologize to the doctor?” you asked, feeling a small knot of guilt twist in your stomach.

JJ’s expression softened, her gentle smile returning. “Clear the air? I’m sure he would appreciate that. I can stay if you’d like,” she offered, her tone kind and understanding.

You shook your head, giving her a small, grateful smile. “No, you don’t have to stay. Thank you for offering.”

JJ nodded, her smile growing warmer. “Alright, I’ll go get him.”

As she left the room, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. You weren’t sure why it felt so important to apologize, but something about the way Spencer had handled everything, his awkward sincerity, made you want to make things right.

Moments later, the door opened again, and Spencer stepped in, looking a bit timid, his usual confidence tempered by the earlier events. “Hello,” he said quietly, almost hesitantly.

“Hi,” you replied, feeling a mix of awkwardness and relief that this conversation was happening.

Spencer took a deep breath before speaking, his voice sincere. “I’m sorry, for today. Scaring you, grabbing you—I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, um, it’s okay,” you said, waving off the apology with a small, embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry for slapping you.”

A faint smile tugged at Spencer’s lips. “That’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me on a case. I’ll get over it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle a little at that, the tension between you easing with the shared humor.

“It’s nice to see you laughing instead of terrified,” Spencer said, his tone light, but with a genuine warmth.

“You’re a lot nicer to be around when I’m laughing instead of terrified,” you teased back, the playful remark slipping out before you could think twice.

Spencer’s smile grew, and for a moment, the stress of the night seemed to lift. “I know the other agents already asked you everything, but, uh, did you know the unsub?”

“I think so, yeah,” you replied, your tone still light but with a hint of frustration. “Some jerk who wouldn’t take no for an answer at a bar.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Spencer asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

“What? Men being dicks? Yeah,” you laughed, but it was humorless, tinged with the weariness of too many similar experiences.

“I’m sorry to hear that. You don’t deserve that,” Spencer said earnestly, his gaze softening.

You looked at him curiously. “What do I deserve, Doctor?”

“Oh, sorry,” he stammered, realizing how his words might have come across. “Another man telling you what you need, huh?”

You smiled, shaking your head slightly. “Mmm, no. This time, I’m interested to hear what you have to say.”

Spencer blushed, clearly caught off guard. “Well, all women deserve to be treated with respect and kindness.”

“And me?” you pressed, leaning in just a little, curious to see how he’d respond.

“You, uh, I guess you deserve a man who will listen to you?” he suggested, his voice unsure but sincere.

“Smart boy,” you giggled, the compliment rolling off your tongue easily.

Spencer felt a warm rush at your words, enjoying the praise perhaps a little more than he should. “I’d—I’d say I could take you on a proper, gentlemanly date, but we’ll leave Florida as soon as we close the case.”

“Now that’s a bold statement,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Are you assuming I would want to go out with you?”

“No, I just—based on your body language and demeanor, not to mention your flirtatious tone and word choice, I suppose, yes, I did assume you would want to go out with me,” Spencer replied, his analytical nature slipping out.

You tilted your head, impressed. “What are you, some kind of genius?”

“Yes, actually. I have an IQ of 187,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“Wow.”

“Hah, yeah,” Spencer chuckled, still a bit shy under your gaze.

“You’re right, by the way. In your assumption,” you said with a playful smile.

“Good to know,” he replied, a touch of satisfaction in his voice.

“Tell me, Doctor, do you happen to work at the FBI bureau in Quantico?” you asked, your tone still teasing.

“I do,” he confirmed, curiosity piqued.

“Well then, in the event that you close this case by, say… next weekend, do you still want to take me out?”

“What? But I won’t be here,” Spencer said, clearly confused.

“I know, neither will I. Do the math, genius.”

Spencer stared at you for a moment, his face adorably concentrated as he processed your words. Then, realization dawned on him, and his eyebrows shot up. “You live in Virginia?”

“I live in Charlottesville, but I’m willing to let you travel two hours to see me,” you said with a teasing grin.

“How kind of you,” he laughed, feeling relief and excitement.

“Well, you did basically kidnap me, and you hurt my wrist,” you pouted playfully.

“Did I really?” Spencer asked, his concern immediate as he took your arm gently in his hands, examining your wrist.

“I still prefer you to the other guy,” you said softly, your voice sincere.

Spencer’s gaze met yours, and for a brief moment, everything else seemed to fade away. Despite the chaotic night, something good had come out of it—a connection neither of you had expected.

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[pinkandgoldensoul]

CS#55 || So? || oneshot

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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 (Hervé), 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: 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 ♥ 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

>>♥<<

A bored night in the warm breeze of May, laying on the sofa with eyes fixed upon your phone’s 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. Miami’s 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. «I honestly can’t believe you’re not coming to the club with me, that’s rude.» «Lan, you know why…» To be fair, spending time with Charles should’ve been a valid reason itself to hop on board the plane, without subtle hints to help you choose. And yet, he knew you wouldn’t have accepted his offer as easily as your mother or your brothers would. «Yes, but jeez, you can’t hide forever…» «Charles won’t let me. He wants me for Imola and Monaco too.» «No way he convinced you to do that.» «He promised to pay for anything I want while travelling with him.» 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. «Oh, now it makes sense.» he pauses. «Must be sad to be alone, though.»

After you had landed in Miami, being the youngest and the newest of all Leclerc’s, those two days in the paddock had been a nightmare: you had been asked to release some interviews, always receiving absurd questions on your brother’s behavior towards you, as if you weren’t 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. «Maybe I won’t be alone…» «Uh? What’s up?» Exiting your first serious and disastrous relationship – as if anyone could know how to handle another person’s feelings at 21 – 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. «I’m currently… scoping the surroundings.» 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. «Need to search elsewhere when you have me? I’m not enough for you, am I?» Despite how boldly you had followed your proposition, you hadn’t 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. «Lan! Of course you’re enough, silly.» Because you had craved it all your life.

>>♥<<

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 – 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… ��, but you had quite made out his body, and it didn’t surprise you at all to read in his short bio that he was an athlete. «I could tell, honey.» 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 doesn’t 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 you’re the neediest girl on earth…

love your profile, I’d 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 wasn’t 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 would’ve 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 don’t think it’s Chili, right?

You saw his typing dots.

Carlos let’s 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 i’m sure you’ll wear something nice both for yourself and for me as well can’t wait to meet you

Cheeks burning red, dazed by the whole interaction and its speed, dizzy with adrenaline, you had no more focus than what’s required to type:

> me too

>>♥<<

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 – well, gifted you, since he had an awfully huge collection of them – a pair of Ray Ban’s for your birthday. Whenever you two would hang out together, not often, and he’d 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 didn’t 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. «Sorry, I’ll explain later. Let’s get inside.» «Sure!» Your voice betrayed the attempt at sounding confident with its squeakiness. Mentally facepalming yourself for it, you couldn’t 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 wasn’t due to lack of attention) and he exuded a timeless charm quite inexplicable.

As soon as he asked the waiter about his – therefore yours – 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. «Sorry for the hurry, I didn’t mean to sound rude.» «No need to apologize!» you quickly hushed, already blushing by the proximity. «And sorry if I asked you to hang out with no warning, but I’m leaving tomorrow morning and… I definitely needed to meet you first, y/n.» 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. «Well, I’m leaving tomorrow too, don’t worry. And I wouldn’t have accepted if I didn’t want to be here.»

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. «Thank you for choosing a quiet place. My moves are constantly watched…» you sighed. «I came here last year and I really enjoyed how chilled out it is. Makes me relax.» Carlos leaned back into his chair, so that his collarbones immediately popped under his tanned flesh. «So you’re always chased too?» «Not as much as my brother, but yes.» «Is it because of him? Is he known?» «More than known, yes.» you smiled. «My life is reserved, compared to his.» Carlos took a sip of his drink with a sympathetic smile. «Would you prefer a quieter life?» he asked. You raised your glass, lost in thought. «Maybe, but that would mean my brother isn’t successful anymore, so no. I really can’t complain about my life, I’m… lucky.» you pulled a small smile. «I wish I were as grateful as you are.» Carlos sighed, and his resignation intrigued you. «Should you be?» «Oh, yeah, I think so.» he took another long sip, then wetting his lips clean. «But I’ve had paparazzi around me since I was young and I can’t bear the media’s attention anymore.» «There’s nothing wrong with that. You shouldn’t feel forced to gratitude.» you calmly prompted.

His pupils were quite enlarged, you noticed, and glazed with softness: your hand was laid close to his, almost at a fingertip’s 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 Regent’s threshold guided by Carlos’ hand and you were already perceiving a mutual tenderness none of you anticipated nor searched for, and which you now couldn’t 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. «Do you like this song?» he asked. «Of course I do? Who doesn’t?» You light-heartedly mouthed him smooth operator as Sade’s voice sang the chorus, moving along to the beat. Carlos couldn’t stray his eyes away from your enchanting figure and acknowledged how smitten he had already become after only a casual talk. He honestly wouldn’t 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 would’ve 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 he’d 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 didn’t mind at all undertaking such a delicate task.

After paying the bill, Carlos got up right away, implicitly inviting you to do the same. «Come, I want to show you a place.» Taking your sunglasses in your fingers and lightly fidgeting with them, a smile still lingered on your lips from the thrill of conversation. «Where?» Carlos grinned, placing his hand on yours to stop the nervous work on the Ray Ban’s temples. «Do you trust me?» 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. «Yes.» «Let’s go, then.» 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 couldn’t help but be caught in staring at Carlos’ glowing skin while he was talking. «Have you ever been to Spain?» «No, never.» you shook your head. «You need to come, for sure. The weather is even better than Florida.» His genuine, happy grin made one burst on your face too, suddenly blinded by a sun beam. «You should visit Monaco, then.» you replied with pride. «You mean the Principality?» «Yes. I live there.» «Too bad I’ve already planned to move there months ago.» You stared at him, shook. How many chances were there? «And now that I know you live there, I’ve got another good reason to hurry up.» You eye rolled, flustered, brushing your upper arms in a poor attempt to dust off the cozy, warm feelings blooming in your chest. «Can’t wait.» 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. «I, uhm… I’m going to be one hundred percent honest with you.» he began. «I really like you. This is the most fun I’ve had with someone without having to get naked since a long time.» Carlos kept caressing your fingers with his, flickering his eyes back and forth from yours to your hands. «I know that you probably expected something different from tonight…» «No, it was perfect.» you stepped in. «Indeed, it was.» Carlos smiled, still shyly looking down. «But my job makes me really busy. As much as I’d like to spend more days with you and enjoy moments together, I’m constantly travelling across the world and… I don’t want you to think I don’t care.» «I wasn’t-» «And I don’t want to force you to follow me everywhere I go, especially because we both would be exposed to the media and… I guess we’re both tired of it.» «We… we don’t need to go at full speed. We can try to keep in contact the times you are available. There’s no rush.» you suggested, leaning a bit nearer.

Only then you realized how close you had got, Carlos’ starry eyes boring into yours. «Don’t you feel an urge?» he asked, husky. «I think I do.» you simply managed to breathe out, a bit shaky. «But I have no problems in waiting, and we’ll meet up whenever-» 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. «I’ll text you every day.» he said in between the kiss. «Don’t make promises you can’t keep.» you chuckled. «I always keep my word. You’ll learn to know me.» «Such a lover boy.» 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 Chili🌶

look who’s with me

You gaped, an immediate grin spreading on your lips.

guess when you’re seeing them again

«Y/n, can you help me with the vegetables? Charles and Alex are going to be here any minute!» «Yes, mom, I’m coming.»

> omg have you planned something? you bet >> 1 new message from Lando don’t tell me you’re down for him already      > i am, plus we’re seeing again woah what happened to the whole “I’m never going to date again PERIOD”?      > disappeared as soon as I met him ♥ gross send me a pic of him rn

«Y/n?» «I’m coming!» you said loudly, finally getting up the couch and walking towards the kitchen, eyes still glued to your phone.

>> 1 new message from Chili🌶 and what about you?      > what?

«Here you are! Take this, cut these carrots, please.»

have you planned anything for me?

Pascale sighed as she was still handing the knife to you.

     > you bet

«Never mind.» «No, mom, I’ll do it, give me the knife!» 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. «Who was it?» she chirped. «Lando.» «Oh, how is he doing?» «Good.» 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. «Eager to talk to you, uh?» «What?» you rapidly turned your head to her. «Lando. It’s him texting you, right?» You didn’t 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 didn’t 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

>>♥<<

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 you’re free this weekend i organized everything, you’re going to love it

You stared at the bottom of the sink.

it’ll 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 Monaco’s 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. «So…» he said, still chewing. «Ready for Sunday? The forecast says it’s going to be sunny all day.» «Can we ride watercrafts this time? I don’t want to lay on the deck for twelve hours.» Arthur chimed in. «Yes, of course.» Charles nodded, taking another bite. «But I’d do that in the afternoon, when the sun isn’t too bright.» «Deal. We need to organize a watercraft race!» «I know, right? What about-» «I don’t think I’m coming.» Charles, who was seated right in front of you, stopped chewing and gave you an expressionless glance. «Why not?» «I think I got a sunburn in Miami and I don’t want it to get worse.» Charles’ left eyebrow quickly raised in annoyance, then he shook his head to himself. «I don’t believe it, but you’re free to stay home.» he said monotone. «I won’t stay home.» you said quiet, but still somehow assertive. At this point, everyone at the table – Lorenzo, Alexandra and Pascale included – were staring at you in anticipation, trying to decipher your words. «I’m going to Provence for the weekend.» Charles scoffed, taking another huge bite out of frustration. «You’ll spend two days hiding under a rock, then, if you really want to avoid sun exposure there.» «Charles…» Pascale tried to warn him. He bored his eyes into yours, so that you read right away his disappointment painted in bold letters. «Some days I feel like I don’t have a sister at all.» 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. «And I’ve been feeling without a brother every fucking day of my life, Charles.» 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 you’d be still awake. He was the one who hugged you and hid your sighs with reassurances, among your broken “I can’t do it”, the one to cup your wet cheek while sitting on the bed. As every other night. «Please, let me leave this weekend, I don’t want to come…» you chanted, like a prayer. «Of course you can go, no one said you can’t. It’s all good.» The one to cradle you, to caress your messy hair, to cuddle you to sleep in your twin bed. >>♥<<

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 Carlos’ car more easily. It was hard; indeed, he hadn’t chosen anything fancy like most sportsmen do, but opted for something low-key instead. Once you had caught sight of Carlos’ 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. «Couldn’t you find anything nicer than this… car wreck?» He chuckled. «You’ll see why we need it.» 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. «I missed you.» «It’s been barely a week!» you giggled. Since he still hadn’t moved away, you cupped his cheeks and left another quick peck on his lips, being too adorable and handsome not to. «But I missed you too.» you added, soft. «That’s what I wanted to hear.» 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 Carlos’ vehicle choice. «Where are we going?» you beamed. «Be patient, we’re almost there.» 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. «C’mon, let’s go.» he gestured. «But we’re in the middle of nowhere!» 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. «And what do you think this is?» 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. «Is it for us?» you asked, dumbfounded. «Of course.» he stated matter-of-factly. Still struck by the beauty of the landscape – the sea roaring behind your back, the hill dominating it from above – you hurried up behind Carlos, following the stoned path.

«We’re staying here because this way we’re closer to the beach and to another place I’ll show you on Sunday.» «Good, because I almost only packed swimwear, as you’ve told me.» You both chuckled. Eyes still wandering around the room, enamored with the designing choices – warm and light tones both for the wallpaper and the furniture – you then ultimately placed your stare back on Carlos’ towering figure, inevitably feeling a burst of excitement and thrill. Before you could move an inch closer to him, he cleared his throat. «Come, I’ll show you the rest of the house.» 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. «I’m going to spend hours in here, I’m telling you.» you said, still in awe. Carlos laughed whole-heartedly. «I can’t blame you.» 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. «That’s the beach we’ll go to.» Carlos said, still standing at the door frame. You turned your head to him, lips slightly parted. «Carlos, this is… It’s incredible, thank you so much.» He walked over to you, smiling in delight, guiding you back into the sightseeing pose with his hands, gently. «Thanks to you for accepting.» he said, low-toned. Maybe it was May’s bright sun making heat creep up your cheeks, or maybe it was Carlos’ touch on your burning skin; maybe you hadn’t 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 Carlos’ 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 couldn’t do without anymore. «As you can see, there’s only one bed. If you don’t feel comfortable sleeping together…» «No, Carlos, of course I want to sleep with you.» you blurted out in a rush, only to mentally facepalm for the unintended pun. He smirked, both amused and finding your embarrassment endearing. «Happy to know that.»

>>♥<<

There was something that either you had miscalculated or that Carlos had carefully taken into consideration while organizing the trip, something you hadn’t thought about while packing your favorite swimsuits and bikinis, alongside sarongs and summer dresses: that you’d 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 – and change into a dry swimsuit –, then running back to the beach in the afternoon to walk hand in hand ‘til 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 you’d touch by chance, while swimming in the waves or passing a towel to the other; you were always feasting on each other’s bodies, almost shamelessly, driven by exasperation; you’d obsessively remind each other to wear sunscreen, so that you could either give help with spreading it over or enjoy one’s hands doing what the other’s 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; you’d say the yearn for the physical was only a manifestation of a deeper emotional longing.

And that’s 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. «You still haven’t told me which sport you practice.» you murmured. «Basically any sport, you name it.» «Are you a decathlon athlete?» you smiled. Carlos looked at you with a raised brow. «You really want to know, uh?» «Am I right?» «No, but thanks for trying.» he smirked. «Why can’t you tell me?» Carlos paused, and it was his time to gaze at the distance, enjoying the peaceful view of the horizon. «I 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 can’t prevent from leaking…» he tsked. «This isn’t what I want for us. I mean, look at us now: no expectations, no hectic lifestyle, no rush. We’re alone, we have nothing else but each other.» You nodded in small movements, almost to yourself. «My brother is almost never home. He’s been involved in the sport since he was a kid and already when he was a teen he’d be nowhere near Monaco.» Carlos rubbed your back as you talked. «Did you feel alone?» «Not really, no. I’ve got two other brothers.» «Please, don’t tell me they’re all older than you.» You smiled at his tone, giggling at his little “oh no…” as he realized it was the case. «But apart from gradually growing distant from my brother, the thing that I’ll never be able to forgive is that my dad was always with him. Because of him, I lost both a brother and a father.» 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. «So… If anything, I’m more scared of not being allowed in every part of your life.» you made eye contact with him. «And we would still have each other, no matter what.» Tacitly thanking you for sharing your feelings, Carlos kissed you briefly before settling back his head on your shoulder. «When you texted me you wanted to leave earlier, I was happy like a little kid.» You grinned, eyes veiled with sadness. «Yeah, I couldn’t wait.» Carlos gently grabbed your chin with his fingers, demanding eye contact back again: you soon dropped it, as Charles’ poisonous words still rang in your ears. «I wanted to run away.» you confessed, then resting your head onto your buckled knees, gazing at the sea. «Did something happen?» Carlos asked, soft, rubbing your back in soothing motions. «Nothing new. It’s always the same.» He leaned in to meet your eyes again, his hand still resting on your back. «Not today. It’s us, now.»

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. «It’s just us.» 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 other’s 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 couldn’t 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 hadn’t 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 Carlos’ body, attentive like a deer observing the predator’s 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. «I want you.» 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 Carlos’ 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 didn’t 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 – hot and full to the touch, a light veil of his cologne lingering on it despite the sea salt – there was no way to take a step back. Carlos couldn’t 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. «Fuck, I need you…» You were in too deep. Your breath hitched at his husky tone. «Carlos…» His lips brushing yours with a circling motion, teasing them with a gut-wrenching delay, he whispered again honey-laced words. «Tell me you want it as much as I do, please…»

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 couldn’t 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 couldn’t soothe the ache anymore. Carlos’ groan told you he felt the same way.

He couldn’t 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. «I don’t have condoms here, for fuck’s sake…» he breathed out, a mix of disappointment and apology in his tone. You brushed his cheek, half hiding a smile. «But I promise I have them in the house. When we go back-» You pressed your pointer finger on his lips to interrupt him. «I’m on the pill.» Carlos’ 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 couldn’t control a half-screamed moan. «Nobody can hear us. I want you to be louder, baby.» 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.

Carlos’ 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 could’ve sustained his eyes for more than a few seconds, you would’ve 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!» you cried out. «Use your words, love. What do you need?» 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!» you moaned, tilting your head to the side. Or maybe he was simply complying to your desires as well. «Like this?» After all, you had already proved him that you weren’t a naïve little girl: your talks, your constant teasing (well thought-out, thanks to your provocative swimsuits), the way you hadn’t seem shocked or scared by his maneuvers but, quite the opposite, thrilled and longing for them. You were both on the same wavelength. «Ah, fuck me… Fuck!» 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 – below him, legs open for him, nipples tensed and visible under the top of your bikini, begging for your release –, now that he had the green light, it took a while to realize he could go for more without risking being turned down. «Carlos, please…» 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.

>>♥<<

Your second day in southern Spain was spent in Carlos’ 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 hadn’t 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 you’d try to shift away from his skillful tongue. He learned you quickly, cracking your body’s code after that abundant breakfast in bed; spending yet another morning on Playa de el Cañuelo, enjoying the vibrant shades of the sea water, wetting your ankles while sitting on the shore, eyes closed in delight and sunbathing, you didn’t expect you’d 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 Carlos’ 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.

>>♥<<

The surprise he had warned you about came on Sunday late afternoon. «Ready for a walk?» 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 Cañuelo, 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. «Let’s go, we’re almost there.»

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. «Este es el Faro de Camarinal.» «This is what?» you giggled. «Faro means lighthouse.» Holding hands and playing push and pull like two kids, you stared at Carlos’ lips closely as to replicate the Spanish words rolling off them, since he was determined to teach them to you. «Faster, now.» «I can’t! It’s impossible, you’re too quick.» «Try.» You both chuckled at each other, taken over by exhilaration for no particular reason but closeness. «Faro… Faro de Marinal?» «Camarinal.» «Faro de Camarinal.» 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. «Better. You improve very quickly.» «Are you planning on teaching Spanish to me already?» 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. «You know me so well and yet it hasn’t even been a month since we’ve met.» «You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.» «It just amazes me.» he looked at you. «You amaze me.» The orange glow of the sunset warmed your cheeks, forcing you to suppress a smile after hearing Carlos’ comment. «Let’s go.» «But we can’t. Isn’t this a prohibition sign?» «It is. But nobody ever comes here and it’s completely safe to go inside.» 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. «I used to come here when I was a kid.» «Did you come to this beach during holidays?» «Yes. This was the refuge I’d run to when my mom showed up to tell me we had to go back home.» You lowered your gaze and smirked, hit by the tenderness of the memory. «Is this a way to say you wish this trip didn’t end today?» «It is. And I also wanted to show you my favorite spot in Spain.»

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. «This swimsuit is the best you’ve brought on this trip.» Carlos whispered in your ear. «Glad you like it… It was meant to be my small surprise for you.» «Let me unwrap it so that I can get my real surprise, then…»

«And then what happened?» «Lan. You know what happened.»

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. «Of course I do, but I want you to embarrassedly say it out loud so that you know how down bad you are.» You heavily sighed, knowing he was smirking by the tone of his voice. «Okay.» You licked your lips, biting your lower lip as the memories hit you. «We made love.» «Oh, wow, made love? Please, you’ll talk to me about making love when you’re an elder or something.» You chuckled, too embarrassed to reply with anything else. «So… I guess it was good.» Lando said. «It was out of this planet. It was dizzying, and he was just… perfect.» «Did he make you cum?» he quickly added. «LANDO!» you gaped, eyes bewildered. «’m just asking.» 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 couldn’t 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. «Yes, he did. Multiple times, if you’re interested!» «Weird that you think I’m interested, but okay.» Lando giggled. «Glad to hear you’re happy, though.» «Yeah, I just feel at ease around him.»

The line fell silent for a couple of seconds, giving you time to elaborate the sentence through a soft grin, head lowered. «Gosh, I think I love this man!» «Man? Is he old?» he laughed. «No, he’s just a bit older than me. But he’s so youthful as well! Lan, I’m doomed.» you facepalmed. «Seems like you are, yeah.»

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. «When… When will you see each other again?» 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. «I don’t know… he’s busy this week, and I’m coming to Imola with Charles, so definitely not as soon as we’d like.» «Well, you should invite him to Monaco for the Grand Prix, if he’s free. He’s a sportsman, he would enjoy it.» «Invite 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 Leclerc’s little defenseless sister is?» Lando tsked and you could almost see his brows knitting in frustration. «Don’t 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 mean…» he paused. «You should be free to hang out with whoever. It’s nobody’s business.» «It isn’t 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.» «A man who understands the struggle.» Lando added, bittersweet. «But what is all this secrecy anyway? I don’t trust someone who can’t even tell you what he does for a living.» «Lan, I just could tell he was being honest… Plus, he really looks like an athlete.» «And couldn’t you tell which sport he practices by his body shape?» «No, he’s really fit overall, there’s no prominent feature.» you shook your head. «He told me that he loves cycling, but usually riders have a smaller frame, right? I have no clue, Lan.» «Guess you just love some mystery man, don’t you?» Lando was grinning, you could tell. «Well, I haven’t told him everything about me either, so it’s only fair…» you breathed out. «I’m so scared of his reaction when he finds out about my family…» «You make it sound like you’re the daughter of an Italian mafia boss.» «You know what I mean by that…» «Yeah, I do. And you know that I think it’s silly.» You paused, gaze still down, in reflection. «It’s going to be fine. Stop overthinking, you little muppet.»

>>♥<<

Earphones plugged in, you scrolled through some of the pics you had taken with Carlos on Playa de el Cañuelo 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.

Carlos’ 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 – which, you figured, was probably his favorite love language, since he couldn’t stray his hands away from your body – 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 Carlos’ 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-

S♥O 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. «Hola, baby!» «Hi.» Carlos, who at first wasn’t 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. «Why are you whispering?» «My brothers are in the rooms next to mine, I can’t make too much noise.» «Haven’t told them about me yet?» he smirked. «No. They can be a bit protective.» «Well, then tell them not to open their socials on the… 22nd of May.» You frowned, taken aback. «What happens...?» «I talked to my management, and I settled everything for us to go public with our relationship. That weekend I’ll be in Monaco for a competition, so I thought there was no better occasion.»

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 didn’t 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 wasn’t even a question. «If you’re okay with it, of course.» Carlos added, an enquiring look on his face. «Uh? Yes! Of course, I mean…» you sighed. «My brother asked for my presence at one of his races but he’s in Monaco too, so I’ll be running to you whenever I can, I promise. I’d desert completely him for you, but I can’t.» «I see.» Carlos nodded small to himself. «He must love you a lot to ask you to be with him every time.» «He’s been pretty insistent since Miami.» you smiled. «Why? Did you bring him good luck?» he smirked, raising a brow. «Hmm… Yeah, kind of.» 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. «What?» you asked at his reaction, still trying to keep your volume low. «Can’t believe I need to thank him for having met you in Miami.» «Bad thing, uh?» «Yep, because I can just sense that once you introduce me as your boyfriend he’ll turn into a cockblocker.» At first, you giggled at his comic frustration and at the – probably true – 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 hadn’t 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. «Are you good?» Carlos’ 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. «I… Please, don’t judge me.» you whispered in plead. «Of course I won’t. What’s the matter?» «I was… I am…» you bit your lower lip, frowning as you felt the jolt of pleasure approaching. «…masturbating to you. I miss you.» Carlos grinned affectionately at those words, finally able to interpret the subtle twitch of your shoulder he had been quite distracted by all along. «I miss you too, love. And there’s nothing to be ashamed of.» The hoarseness of his voice. Your core clenched around nothing just by him talking. «Are you close?» His tone had turned almost serious, consequently lower; you nodded through whines, at this point quite failing at the proposition of keeping absolutely silent. «Wanted 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?» 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 it’d never end. «Fuck, I’d like to be there on the bed next to you.» Carlos sighed, almost talking to himself. «Feel better, now?» «Feel amazing.» you breathed out. «I’m really sorry we can’t hang out until next week.» «It’s not your fault, Carlos. We’ll manage.» you reassured him.

As you leaned forward, sitting on the bed and seemingly about to get up, Carlos mimicked you on his beanbag chair. «Do you need to go?» he asked. «I’ll go clean up and then straight to bed.» you smiled. «What about you?» «I wanted to go to bed too, but I think I’ll need to take care of my boner first.» You covered your mouth to prevent your giggles from echoing louder in your room. «Sorry!» «Don’t worry, I was already pretty hard when I saw you in pajamas on the bed, so…» «So?» «So stop teasing me any further!» he laughed. «Good night, y/n.» «Sweet dreams, lover boy.» you joked with a fond smile on your lips.

>>♥<<

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. «Oh, didn’t see you.» Charles seemed genuinely surprised to find you there, pulling a sheepish smile while getting close to the fridge. «I was thirsty.» you said, taking a sip from your newly filled glass. «Yeah, me too.» 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. «Your cheeks are bright red… Are you okay? Do you feel like you have a fever?» As Charles leaned over to you, full of concern and thoughtfulness – too unexpected and unwelcome, if coming from him –, threatening to touch your skin as to prove the temperature of its surface, you flinched backwards, avoiding him. «No, I’m fine! I… Guess I should change the duvet, it’s still the wintery one.» He raised a brow in a quick, frustrated move. «Isn’t it the sunburn?» he asked, sharp. Sunken. Guilt pervaded you, head to toe. «Oh, uhm… No, I don’t think so.» you stood in silence. «Charles, the sunburn was just a lie…» «I know.» On pins and needles, you waited patiently for him to carry on, knowing there was more when he turned around to face you. «Where did you go?» «To Provence, I told you.» you sipped. «You flew off the country.» Charles kept staring at you with a knowing look, waiting for an answer. «Freak, can’t even trust Lorenzo…» you snorted. «He told me he accompanied you to the airport.» «Fine.» you took another sip. «I was in Spain.» Charles nodded to himself. «Did you go with anyone?» «No, I was alone. Last minute decision.» «I see.»

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 could’ve 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 could’ve done something to prevent it? What if not keeping in touch with you enough was a burden placed on his shoulders only? «I’m… I’m sorry for what I said, last week. You’re 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 I’m here got me mad. Sorry.» «We were both petty. It’s fine, Cha’.» You weren’t his little sister anymore. You had suddenly turned into an adult, and it was unbelievably hard for him to acknowledge that he couldn’t 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 wasn’t 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 I’ve 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 I’ll text you later ♥      > love you ♥

You huffed, putting your phone down. «Y/n, right?» 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. «Yes.» «Good! Charles asked us to give you a garage tour, so you’ll be joining the one we reserve for our guests, which starts in a few minutes. Please, follow me!»

Annoyed beyond comprehension, wondering why in the world your brother had decided to put you through such a torture – 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… –, 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 wasn’t a good reason to force you in there as well. You knew nothing about driving and you couldn’t 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 wasn’t established in your deal. Little shit.

Still fuming at the thought, carefully intending to search a boutique nearby – if any existed in that God forgotten Italian village – and force him to buy the most expensive dress of the lot, you snatched your sunglasses away, not bearing the thought of them being Charles’. Phone vibrating in your pocket, you grabbed it and glanced at it.

1 new message from S♥O 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. Carlos’ doe eyes were meters away from you, as his body was wrapped in the Ferrari merch you were so used to seeing in your brother’s 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.

«What are you looking at?» Carlos turned his head to Charles, who was leaning on the wall next to him. «Nothing.» 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 couldn’t 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 hadn’t managed to discover it yet…

«I’m doing the tour, today.» Charles plainly said. «What? You never want to.» 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. «Hello, everyone!» 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 – probably engineers –, then climbed into the cockpit and did checks you couldn’t 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 couldn’t 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. «Next, you’ll visit the hospitality. Follow me, this way!» 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 Charles’ teammate; putting pieces together, the overall picture still had blurry borders and it shook before your sight. In that fraction of eternity – since meeting Carlos seemed to have halted time –, 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 couldn’t 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 weren’t 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 Carlos’ breath hitch and his movements ceased, as he tried to get your attention in order to speak up, you braced yourself for his words. «Why are you here?» he let out in one breath. «My brother… the  one who’s an athlete…» you inhaled. «That’s Charles.» Carlos spaced out, and you showed him a sympathetic smile while caressing his cheek with fondness. «You’re from Monaco…» «Yep.» you kept brushing his skin, appreciating the smoothness of it, able to guess he might have shaved that same morning. «You were in Miami for the race, weren’t you?» You nodded in small movements, waiting for his reaction. «But like, how didn’t you recognize me? Did you pretend not to know?» «I told you I never went to Charles’ races. I’m not interested in F1, I’ve never watched it on tv…» «At least I know it wasn’t a lie, then…» he leaned his head back, sighing.

There was no way of hiding the hint of fear you felt while biting your lip, examining Carlos’ expressions as they changed rapidly. Through it all, though, he never retreated from your touch, keeping you tight in his arms. «What a mess…» he muttered under his breath. «He can’t say a thing, it’s not up to him to decide who I’m dating-» «Y/n, there are… dynamics that you can’t understand. It’s much more than an overprotective-brother matter.» «Then what is it?» «Y/n!» Carlos shut his eyes in annoyance as he heard his teammate, your brother, searching and calling for you. «Y/n? Guys, did you see my sister?» 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. «She was being nosy in the strategy room. She said she got lost.» Without paying too much attention to Carlos’ justifying words, Charles only addressed you. «Go reach Arthur and mom, we’re having lunch at the hospitality together.» 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. «Y/n is my sister.» Carlos tried to play it cool and smirked. «I didn’t know anything about her.» «And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to always be.» Charles stepped closer to Carlos, never letting his smile falter. «Don’t get near her.» 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 Charles’ 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 would’ve backed him up. Maybe you would’ve picked his side instead of Charles’, 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 people’s 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. 

Deep down, Carlos knew it was no one but Ferrari’s 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 championship’s fight without even considering any other person. They had made him too important, and now they couldn’t 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 didn’t 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?

>>♥<<

You waited in the interstice between Ferrari and McLaren’s 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 wasn’t 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 Carlos’ presence aside you. «I’m going to be brief. Things between me and Charles are a mess, when it comes to dynamics within the team. It’s not even hate, it’s way more subtle than that…» «It’s competition.» «Unfair competition.» he spatted. «He knows the team will always back him up, whereas I’m currently without a seat for next year.» You shot your wide opened eyes to him. «What?» «I 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.» You passed a frustrated hand on your face, trying to wash away mental fog. «You don’t want Charles to be on your tail more than he is now, I guess.» «I don’t want him to force you to choose either him or me.» he stared at you. «Because you can’t help choosing him.» «No! I don’t care about him if this is the way he treats people! And why would you assume I wouldn’t choose you? I…» 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 Carlos’ expression, sewed with pain. «You?» «Y/n!» You stepped back abruptly, before even turning around to see who was searching for you with such a greeting, before Lando’s curly locks bounced over to you. «Oh, Carlos!» the Brit smiled sheepish. «Do you two… know each other?» 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 wasn’t mathing.

Carlos smiled, genuinely curious as to why his old teammate had approached you – or tried to, before noticing the presence of a third wheeler – so confidently when, according to you and your brother’s words, no one in the paddock knew a thing about you. «No, not really. She is a VIP guest Charles asked me to treat good. Probably a friend of his.» Carlos grinned. «Do you know each other?» 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 Carlos’ head. «Uhm, yeah.» Lan said, unsure. «We’re friends.»

>>♥<<

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 phone’s 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. «How does Lando know you?» «We met in Monaco without knowing that… that he was him and I was me. We became friends before Charles could even find out.» «And how was Charles okay with it, given his “no sister” policy with us drivers?» «I guess he couldn’t do much, at that point. But Lan told me that he had to swear he wouldn’t say a word about me.» «The only secret he was ever able to keep.» Carlos scoffed. «It had to be the most precious girl, of course.» You raised your eyes at him. «What do we do now?» Carlos didn’t 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. «Charles can’t know.» You shut your eyelids close, inhaling deeply. Embarking in a secret relationship wasn’t on the plan, weeks earlier. Neither was Carlos. >>♥<< 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 wasn’t going to be easy on any of you, lying to half world. And yet, no other choice was left.

«Did you save me as “so” because it stands for “significant other”?» 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 Ferrari’s hospitality in order to chill and relax a bit before FP3 in Monaco. You were surprised to see there wasn’t a lot of space, forced to lay on a small couch. «Where did you learn that?» «Internet, of course.» he said, matter-of-factly. «What, did you search the short form of “smooth operator”?» Giggling, you threw another jokingly glance at him, noticing his brain gears moving as he spaced out. «I never realized…», he shifted his gaze on you, «until now.» Willing to get closer, you flipped around and climbed upwards, resting your hands on his broad chest, still smiling at him. «You’re my so, in every way.» You left a quick peck on his soft lips, biting your own in awe, admiring how lost he seemed. «So?» «So.» you tenderly brushed your nose against his. «It’ll be my secret code for you, from now on.» «I want it to be a secret code for me too.» Carlos’ lips curled in a pensive pout, while you couldn’t stop yourself from leaving another peck on them, slower this time, but still feather-like. «Then, you’re my… Sexy Owner?» You both burst out laughing. «What? It’s true, you’re both sexy and you own me.» «I don’t own you, Carlos.» you eye rolled, still grinning. «But we own each other.» he firmly grabbed your waist, as you still laid comfortable over him. «Or at least I own you, according to what you said last night…» The light pat he gave on your bun, paired up with his breath fanning on your neck triggered a cheerful chuckle in you. «What about Sweet Oath?» You looked back at him. «An oath?» «An oath of love. That’s why it’s sweet.» «You’re the one being sweet.»

Exchanging another small kiss, you got startled as Carlos’ alarm went off to warn him about the light training he was meant to do before free practice. «Never lasts long enough.» he grunted, leaving another kiss on your lips. «Are we hanging out tonight?» you asked, climbing off him reluctantly to let him go. «Maybe right after qualifying. I need to attend a dinner with sponsors.» «Business nights, uh?» He grinned, as you both stood up. «Be careful when you exit the room. Wait here a few minutes.» «Good luck.» «It’s just free practice.» 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 Cañuelo; 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. «Y/n?» Struck, you stopped and raised your gaze, who was following your feet's movement. Lorenzo. He was in the guests’ area of the second floor, phone in hand, staring right in your direction. «Yes?» 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. «All good?» «Yes, just need to use the restroom real quick.» He nodded small as a sign to let you go. Confirmed, he had noticed. He knew you were lying.

>>♥<<

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 didn’t feel pressure from it, nor the need of controlling or maintaining it: when you’re comfortably in the lead, you only see the road ahead and you don’t focus on the position you’re in.

Entering the box, searching for Andrea, Charles didn’t expect to find you engaged in a conversation with his teammate. About F1. «�� and they could undercut us.» «Undercut? What does that mean?» 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 didn’t 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 you’re in the chase, the subordinate position you’re 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. «This is why in case of safety cars it's best to-» «Pit so no one undercuts you. Right, Carlos?» He knew. Inside his eyes, Charles could read annoyance for the interruption, as he saw your attention shifting from Carlos to himself. «Why are you guys talking about undercut? What did I miss?» «Carlos was teaching me some stuff on strategies, since I had some questions.» «You? Questions on strategy?» Charles scoffed, almost jokingly. «And why didn't you ask me instead?» «Because Carlos is a great teacher.» you grinned. «And he was the only one available.» 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. «So?» The angles of your mouth curved in a smile unconsciously, hearing that secret code escape Carlos’ 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 Prince’s 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 brother’s 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 Arthur’s 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 Ferrari’s president Elkan but didn’t linger on you much, swamped by other people congratulating him; Carlos, instead, embracing the man who was unconsciously guarding you from the track – said Elkan –, 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 weren’t capturing every single second of the happy chaos filling the boulevard, you would’ve leaned in to leave a kiss on those soft, plump lips of his.

>>♥<<

«I know you might disagree, but… Today was a really special day for Charles and it’d be great if you could join the celebrations tonight, with him. With us.» Your mother hummed to Lorenzo’s words, glancing at you to check your reaction, which was more than slow to show. «Charles, a-and Arthur as well, would be so happy to have us all together, like the family we are.» 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. There’d probably be a celebration of P3 too. «Dad would’ve liked it as well.» Pascale added. And what then? Wouldn’t a chance to see Carlos be more than enough to set resentment and old rotten feelings aside? «Yes.» Lorenzo agreed, lowering his head. «Where is he partying?» you asked, monotone. «How come where? At Jimmy’z, of course.» Your eyeroll was accompanied by a sharp inhale, regretting already the resolution you had just formed. «I’ll go home as soon as I’m tired or bored.» «Are you really coming?» Lorenzo asked surprised, as if he had just made peace with the fact you would turn the invitation down. «But of course! You can go home whenever you feel like it, since we’ll probably stay up very late… You’ll make him happy just by being present for five minutes.» «Don’t give me ideas I wouldn’t hesitate to put into work.» you said, teasingly. Pascale grinned wide, sincerely glad to have all the Leclerc’s on the same page – quite a novelty, lately. «Good! Do you need help choosing your dress? Styling your hair, maybe?» «No, mom, I’m fine. I can manage.» «Okay, I see… Always the self-made woman!»

>>♥<<

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 couldn’t 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 Jimmy’z 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. Carlos’ 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 Charles’ delightful expression wouldn’t haunt your sight left and right.

«Lando! Lan, congrats, bae!» you slurred, lacing your arms around his neck. «Thanks, babe! I wasn’t on the podium, but I appreciate.» he laughed. He then paused and checked you out with smiling eyes, trying to interpret your weirdly affectionate state. «Who did you get all this cute and worked up for?» «Uh?» Lando had to repeat the question through the loud cheers of Charles’ friends near you. «Whose heart are you trying to steal being this giggly and adorable?» Eyes bored deep into his, suppressing a smile biting your lower lip, you faked the purest honesty and innocence of mind. «No one’s.» Your hidden mischief didn’t go unnoticed to Lando, who nonetheless decided to let it slide off his mind, letting his gaze wander in the packed floor. «Want to dance?» 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. «Yes, sure!» 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 wouldn’t be unusual for people to notice you. But then it struck again, and he managed to catch the person’s face. «What’s wrong?» you half-screamed at Lando, trying to make yourself be heard. «Nothing, thought I saw someone I know.» He then brushed your arm lightly. «I’ll come back in a second.»

>>♥<< Drink in hand – an unnecessary one, since you were already quite tipsy, but absolutely required to argue with Arthur like lords far from the dancing chaos – you reasoned out loud that the only good thing about Jimmy’z was the music. He chuckled in agreement, taking a sip. «The venue is cool, though, don’t you think?» he asked. «Would be better off without those naked girls flashing everyone.» «They’re not naked!» Arthur smugly replied. «But I see why you’re not interested.» «Are you?» you asked, disgusted. «I mean…» You scoffed at his collected reticence. «C’mon, don’t play the goody two shoes! I bet you wouldn’t complain if it was a sixpack on full display.» «But I don’t want to be flashed every single second. I’m not always in the mood, you know?» you teased, placing your gaze back to the crowd. Arthur kept staring at you, raising a brow and pulling a knowing smile. «Oh, really?» «Yes.» «Then why have you been dancing like crazy all over Lando while wearing your revenge dress?» You looked at him, genuinely puzzled. «Revenge dress?» «This is the dress you wore the night after breaking up with that dickhead of your ex-boyfriend when we partied at Buddha’s. It’s the “partying ‘til I forget my name” sexy dress.» The realization made you laugh uncontrollably hard, spitting out the sip you had taken back into the glass and obliging you to lean on Arthur’s arm for support. Of course, you couldn’t 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 Arthur’s 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 – under his unmistakable Monaco flag – 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 Carlos’ widening irises, you grabbed the shuffling flag away from Charles’ head and bore your eyes into his. «What are you doing?» you asked. «We wanted to go inside-» «I want to come in!» you pouted. Charles, already quite wasted, stared at you, seemingly unable to make sense of your weird request. He’d always thought you didn’t 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 didn’t 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 couldn’t 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. «Of course, let’s go!»

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 couldn’t 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 Carlos’ body spreading wide on the couch and his clear arousal after feasting on your poses all night. Lorenzo hadn’t 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. «I’m going dancing!» Not that anyone really followed you; Charles, as well as all his friends, were deep in conversation – or, at least, drunkenly attempting to – 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. «Carlos, what about you?» Carlos’ head snapped back to the table, breath almost audibly hitched, wide eyes placed on Lorenzo who had been the one to address him. He hadn’t 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. «Sorry, I spaced out for a second. What was the question?» He knew Lorenzo hadn’t 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. «How do you feel about the podium?»

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 hadn’t gone south as you had always expected to. Deep down, though, you couldn’t fake it was probably due to someone else’s 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. «Are you good, mate?» Charles’ giggle alarmed Carlos once again, obliging him to nod at his teammate. «You sure? You seem a little… tense.» The chuckles and the laughter bursting from Charles’ side of the table didn’t please the Spaniard, making him rather confused. «I’m fine, actually.» They both stared at each other, Charles’ eyes sparkling in drunkenness and mischief, still smirking with both dimples on display. «I have a gift for you, Carlos.» Carlos gulped as soon as he saw Charles’ 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. «But Carlos! You aren’t turning down my gift, are you?» he said. «Because in that case, you know what they say… Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?» 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 ‘gift’ 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. «Never look in the mouth, but… you can take a great look at everything else.» 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 couldn’t act on the rage coursing in his heated blood. Carlos’ mouth went completely dry, despite the drinks he had had in order to forget he was sitting in the lions’ 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 Carlos’ trail of thoughts, making him turn his head to the noise coming from the dance floor. He noticed a waitress’ 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.

«What’s your name, sweetheart?» 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. «Where do you think you’re going? We haven’t had fun yet!» 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. «Leave me alone!» 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. «Are you deaf? Leave.» No matter how loud the music was, you could feel Carlos’ low voice echoing in your chest, vibrations reaching your stomach: you hadn’t been that close to him all night and his sudden presence daunted you all at once. «What? Who are you to tell me what to do?» 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. «Someone who could get you out of this country in less than two minutes.» 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. «Maybe three, if you leave immediately and forget to come here for the rest of your life.» 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. «I'll ask Arthur to bring you back home, okay?» Lorenzo said to you. «I'll give her a ride.» 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. «You guys should all stay here and celebrate together.» Carlos smiled. «I was about to leave too.» «Well, then... Thank you, Carlos.» 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.

>>♥<<

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. «Hey, are you good?!» Aaaand you fell. Of course. Pouting and whining, you did what Carlos hoped you didn't: throw a drunk tantrum. «I don't want to leave!» He sighed, picking you up from the ground with ease and making sure you'd stand on your own. «Be a good sister and obey your brother, huh?» «I'd only obey... you.» and with your pointer finger on his chest, you smirked at him. «Then let's go home.» «Ughh, you're no fun! I want to stay!» «Is everything okay?» The voice signaled the approaching of Lando, fast enough to take an apprehensive look at you. As soon as Carlos met the Brit’s eyes, a wave of comfort washed over him. «She's drunk and I've been told by her brothers to bring her home...» Lando raised a brow at you suddenly hugging Carlos and complaining in slurred sentences. «But she doesn't want to.» Carlo sighed, defeated. «Need help?» «Yep. Much needed.» «Y/n!» 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 Ferrari’s 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.

>>♥<<

«'Right, let's get you some fresh clothes.» 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. «Here!» Lando joined Carlos, staring at you with a sigh. «She can't put them on herself, I guess.» «No, I don't think she can.» «So… how do we do?» 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. «Give me the shirt.» 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 Brit’s stare, Carlos gave him a sheepish smile, placing a hand on your back as you didn't unglue yourself from him. «Where’s my goodnight kiss?» Lando, brows knitted and batting eyelashes quickly, examined the careful yet tender smile blooming on Carlos’ 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 Ferrari’s horsepower covered partially the few words escaping Lando’s lips as a reflex of a realization. «It’s you, isn’t it?» «What?» «You’re her boyfriend. You’re the guy she met in Miami.» 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. «Is it that obvious?» «I mean…» Lan gulped, avoiding gaze. «She was trying to kiss you, what other confirmation do I need?» 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 Carlos’ collected calm concealed under a sweating, hot body, veins in his arms popping out the tanned skin. «She told me you were pretty secretive about it all.» «Well, I didn’t want to rush her into a crazy public relationship full of formalities.» he stopped at a traffic light. «But if you really want to know, I had planned on going public next week.» «It sounds like you won’t.» «Because we can’t.» «Why not?» Lando turned to face him. Carlos gripped the steering wheel harder and stared back at the traffic light. «Charles.» «Charles what?» «Told me to stay away from her.» he accelerated, seeing the green light. «And don’t tell me “Fuck that”, because you know I’m in no position to. I’m sure that if he wanted, he could convince the team to drop me mid-season.» «Well, I see. It sucks.» «Yeah.» Pensive for a few turns of Monaco, Lando was quick to speak up again. «But isn’t love stronger than anything else?» «You can’t make a living out of love and carelessness, you know?» «I’m just saying that… She loves you a lot.» «I do too.» «I think… I think she would give up on Charles, for you.» «I don’t want her to sacrifice anything or anyone for me, let alone her loved ones.» «Need to throw up, after this.»

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 hadn’t 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, he’d 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, he’d 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 you’d 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.

>>♥<<

You walked down the paddock marching to Ferrari’s garage, smile on full display, Charles’ 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 didn’t 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. «How do I look?» 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. «What’s going on here?» «Cha’! I was asking Carlos his opinion on my new outfit.» 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 wasn’t particularly good and he knew you wouldn’t agree anyway. But since F2, since your dad’s condition had started to worsen, since Baku, since his finger raised to show the Je t’aime papa on his rear wing, he had always dreamed of having you support him. He knew he was too old to hide in Pascale’s arms, but craving his little sister’s affection wasn’t 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.

«So…What do you think, Carlos?» The Spaniard, a bit surprised by the ball being passed to him immediately, hesitated some more in the staring. «Red looks amazing on you.» «Does it?» you asked, coquettish, turning your shoulder a bit. Enough to show the number on the back. «Yes, it does.» Charles said, anticipating Carlos’ answer. «Now we need to get done with the social media challenge before the briefing. Right, Carlos?» «Yep. I’m coming.» As Charles turned his back to move away, Carlos seized the moment to whisper in your ear. «And my scent fits you amazingly as well…», you smirked in sync. «Did you steal it from my wardrobe?» «Maybe.» «Keep it. I want to rip it off of you tonight.» «Tonight? Thought it’d convince you to find more time for me earlier in the day, but seems like I was wrong…» Knowing you had hit a vulnerable point, you enjoyed Carlos’ hand brushing casually your hip while passing by and pretending to let you go, only to capture you with words. «I’d fuck you right now on the counter next to the helmets.» he paused, licking his ruby lips. «But since you’re trying to rile me up at work, you’ll pay the price by waiting.»

>>♥<<

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 – in fact, number 55’s one – and Carlos resting his hand on your waist.

> can’t a driver and his teammate’s sister pose together for a pic? they can, but… not being subtle at all here, just saying

>>♥<<

Dining at a table hidden away from Netflix crew and photographers, you chugged down water in large sips. «Did he congratulate you?» Charles smiled. «Think he wished for me to have a mechanical failure like in 2022.» You drank and drank again, hand never letting go of your glass, willing to extinguish the fire – once a mere fever – which had built up in your chest since first hearing your brothers’ words about Carlos.

An infuriating, consuming flame of love. «He pushed me off the track in China… Don't know what he'll do in his home race, starting in front of him.» «If the strategy is to save tyres, the team should ask you to keep the positions in the first stint at least.» Charles snorted at Lorenzo's reasoning. «I'm sure. Can't wait for his mother's comments defending him whatever shit Carlos does on track.» «Can you please stop?» Charles eyed you from across the table a bit surprised, visibly annoyed by the tone and the request. «Stop doing what?» «Talking shit about someone who's not present and whom you don't know a thing about.» 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. «Oh, right, I don't know anything… Then tell me, what do you know about him, uh?» Out of frustration, you stood up abruptly, struggling to form a proper answer. «What I know is that you’re still a fucking child who can’t never, ever accept he’s wrong!» «Guys, tone it down.» 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 weren’t expecting to hear them now. «What were you doing in Carlos' room?» You kept facing away from him, not able to move nor to answer. «Why do you keep attending race weekends only to disappear without explanation and avoid Charles and all of us like the plague?» he said, stepping forward. «Did you really think I wouldn't notice?» «Does Charles know?» you asked. «No.» he said. «But if it's serious, you should definitely tell him.» «If?» you turned around to face him. «Are you kidding me? Of course it's serious, indeed, very serious-» «Then you need to talk about it, because this doesn't only involve you but-» «I'm not listening to this bullshit, sorry.» you retreated. «You don't get to tell me how to live my life.»

>>♥<<

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 – which you had followed from Ferrari’s garage, biting your lips – 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. «WHAT DID YOU FUCKING SAY?!» «CHARLES!» Screaming at the top of your lungs as you saw him tug Carlos’ suit, you tore him away, staring at him both furious and terrified, breathing harshly. «Did you sleep with him?!» «It’s none of your busin-» Carlos spitted out, bitter, enraged at the tone he had addressed you with. «Shut the fuck up!» he barked at Carlos, then looking back at you with fiery eyes. «Tell me you didn’t, y/n.» Your fingers weakened their hold onto Carlos’ 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 didn’t even like? Would he feel betrayed? Would he feel as lonely as you’d 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 father’s 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 would’ve said it had been out of fear; but as you felt Carlos’ arms wrap your waist with might, you realized your knees had given up on your weight, and that you couldn’t, 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 couldn’t 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. «Can you hear me? What’s wrong, can you breathe?» Charles’ 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. «Lorenzo, where is he?» «He’s not here.» Charles whispered, a sad and confused shade in his voice. «I need him, I need… I… Lorenzo…» «Hey, I’m here too…» he spoke soft, inching closer, willing to engulf you in a hug if only you’d 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. «Fuck, call the doctors from the medical center here at the track! Come on, go! Quick, for fuck’s sake!» 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. «No, no no no, don’t cry, it’s okay…» 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 couldn’t 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. «Breathe into the bag.» 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 Carlos’ 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. «Please, take me away from here.» 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 Hervé, 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. «You don't get to touch her after what you said.» Why couldn't he never... «I'll do what you should've done instead.» 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?! > ♥ 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.

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f1 ✔ It seems like Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend y/n Leclerc had a little romantic getaway in London right after the race 🤭

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3 new messages from Charles we need to talk please call me back when you see this

«Nice try!» «There was a gust of wind…» «Yeah, sure. Keep dreaming of shots like mine.»

I’ve made so many mistakes

«So… Me +5, you +8, right?» «Yep.»

there are so many things that I want to change

«Onto the next hole, then!»

please don’t ignore me

«Ready, babe?»

I’ve missed you so much

«Y/n?» «Uh?» 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. «Don’t you answer?» «I… No.» «May I know who is it?» You sighed, simply turning the screen of your phone towards Carlos so that he could read the preview of Charles’ flood of texts. As the cart slowly started moving, you stayed silent. «I know you won’t like what I’m about to say, but I think someone should tell you this.» «What?» «It’s your brother, y/n.» You tsked, annoyed, crossing arms and looking on your right side, onto the endless fields of play. «So? Does this give him permission to treat badly both of us? And if anything, you should be mad at him more than I am.» «But I’d never ask you to hate him for me.» You stared at him, as he kept driving. «I know you love him, and I don’t want to see you sad and upset anymore because of anything that happened between me and him.» «It’s not just about you two…» «I know. But from his texts, it seems like he realized he was wrong and is willing to change.» Approaching the new golf hole, Carlos stopped the cart right behind Lando’s. «In four years, if I learned anything about Charles’ character, that’s his perseverance once he has a goal set.» he paused and then looked at you. «If you ignore him today, he’ll keep texting and calling you tomorrow, and the day after, until you give in.» «I don’t want to give in. He always gets what he wants, and I want him to understand I’m not a trophy he can keep on his shelf just because it’s the only one he lacks.» «I think you should hear his reasons anyway. You can always refuse afterwards, if you feel like he’s being superficial about it.»

>>♥<<

Monaco’s 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. «Why did it take you so long?» 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 didn’t answer. «Did you get wet? Wait, let me get you new clothes.» 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. «This, it will make you feel warm.» «Cha’, I’m not cold…» «No, this one! This one is good, for sure.» Piling up clothes on the bed as he frenziedly looked through your entire wardrobe, you stood still waiting for him to stop. «Here, let’s change into these.» he said, handing a shirt and some trousers to you. Who… who was that? What had happened to old Charles? The one you’d always known? «C’mon, I don’t want you to get ill!» «You… you need to exit the room.» «Right!» 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? Carlos’ words echoed in the silence of your bedroom. Listening to him didn’t cost you anything.

«I’m 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.» 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. «Me 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 didn’t seem to have a lot of interest in.» «You both decided that for me.» «I know. I know now.» he nodded. «It was a terrible mistake to exclude you from my passion because it indirectly excluded you from my life.» «You weren’t even here when dad was at the hospital.» «Don't you think I know? Don’t you think I’ve suffered for that?» 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 Lorenzo’s shirt and be cradled by him. It should’ve been me, I should’ve 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 Arthur’s mischief dictated by jealousy from not being the youngest kid anymore. «I missed you.» The crack in his voice, the trembling of his chest upon yours warned you he was crying as well, inside your arms. You couldn’t 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. «As to Carlos…» he said. «Cha’, I love him, I can’t help it.» you said as he wiped a tear from your cheek. «Please, don't ask me to choose because I won’t.» «Y/n, I’m no one to say what you can and can’t do.» he dropped the tone of his voice. «And I’m definitely not entitled to say whom you can and can’t love.» You stood in shock, elaborating his words. «So…» «So, if Carlos makes you happy, then I support it. I support… you.»

>>♥<<

«So you're good now?» «Thanks to you, yes.» You laid back onto the swim towel, pressing on the sand of Playa de el Cañuelo, staring straight at Carlos who was laying right next to you. «I love the sun here in Spain, gosh…» «Brings back memories, right?» he smirked. «Yeah...» «Why don’t relive them?» 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 other’s 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. «I was thinking of buying the villa, so I can stop renting it every month for us to come here.» «Really?» you beamed. «Would you like it?» «I'd love it.» «So then we can expand it and add a second floor, to have space for a playroom for our kids...» «What?» «This will be our holiday villa, once we get married.» 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 other’s. «So... Where were we?»

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 ♥

Navigation || Masterlist

[mauesartetc]

FREE PALESTINE MASTERPOST

Trying to keep this blog more art- and creativity-focused in general, so I'll be removing the Gaza-related reblogs that are about a month old. But I'll use this post as a permanent archive that will update periodically (some of this information will grow dated as the situation develops, but I think it's important to keep a record of just how fiercely opposed people were to Israel's actions from this moment forward). We should all continue to raise our voices about this, and refuse to support politicians who enable genocide. Remember, they work for us, not the other way around. Keep going.

October 2023

-Donation links

-Social media links

-US congress ceasefire script

-Decolonizepalestine.com (information, mythbusting)

-More donation links

-Ways to pressure politicians for a ceasefire

-HUGE resource list

-"Is there anything I can do to help Palestinians besides call my representatives and beg them to stop killing people?"

-"We are isolated now"

-Palestine and landback

-210 PAGES of dead people's names.

-Bail money for Palestine Action

-Article list

-US action items

-Boycott info

-Grand Central Station shut down by protestors

-Message to white American citizens

-UK ceasefire petition

-How YOU can help Palestine (regularly updated!)

-"Please try amidst all this fury and grief to still have faith in the common people." (+donation links)

-Reminder about protest etiquette and privacy

-Prints for Palestine

-"We have no communication with the outside world. They are using their military might to harm us. We have no power but the power of God, no one but God. Please, pray for us." (spoken over mosque speakers)

-DAILY donate button + more donation links

-"Doesn't Israel have a right to exist too?"

-Script for US Congress calls

-Queerness under apartheid

-Sudan is also at war

-Hundreds of thousands of protestors in London

-Half a million.

-Tips for folks with phone anxiety

-This comic got real

-European and Canadian ceasefire scripts

-"The people of Gaza see the protests. That is reason enough to come even if nothing else." WE HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOU. WE ARE HERE.

November 2023

-More genocides than just Palestine

-How to buy e-sims to circumvent Gaza's internet blackout

-"Occupying territories is illegal. Resistance to occupying forces is legal."

-MASSIVE resource list

-"For decades now the media has told us Muslim men are savages, terrorists, wife beaters and everything in between. I want you to challenge this trope the next time you see it in the media. Let these photos serve as a reminder."

-"Don't stop talking about the Palestinian genocide. IT'S WORKING."

-UN resignation letter

-Israel won't allow Irish or Brazilian citizens to leave Gaza

-"Palestine must never be forgotten. Promise me that." (from the documentary "Children of Shatila")

-Gifs of pro-Palestine rallies around the world

-Support Palestine's last kufiya factory

-Protestors flood the streets in Washington DC

-Explanation of why calling representatives is a numbers game

-FREE ebooks on the history of this conflict

-Petition to screen films by Palestinian directors

-Call to boycott Gal Godot's work

-Indigenous activists block weapons shipment to Israel

-If you're attending a protest, DON'T TELL YOUR GOVERNMENT SHIT. Y'know, friendly advice.

-Links to support Palestine Action and Palestine Legal. Get in the way.

-Parallels between Israel and the surveillance tactics used by NYC mayor Eric Adams

-Don't spiral into doomerism. Persevere.

-Want a different strategy to contact your representatives? Try faxing them!

-Florida rep Michelle Salzman calls for the death of all Palestinians

-"The phone doesn't stop" :)

-Indian trade unions call on the government to scrap deals with Israel

-An overview of Israel's human rights violations, and two major political groups that have exacerbated Zionism in the US

-Israeli man explains why he's protesting

-"Whoever stays until the end will tell the story. We did what we could. Remember us."

-US House of Representatives votes to send billions of dollars worth of weapons to Israel

-Canadian email campaign and petitions

-"Canada's First Nation standing with Palestine"

-"Freedom is infectious as it is just and no one is free until they ALL are."

-Israeli forces invade al-Shia hospital

-Leaked list of weapons the US has sent to Israel

-Only 32% of Americans believe the US should support Israel

-Cop City action demonstrates how to protest effectively

-Refugee grandmother "doesn't have to imagine a multicultural and integrated Palestine- she remembers it".

-Protestors block the Bay Bridge in San Francisco (plus bail fund)

-Israeli forces attack schools in northern Gaza. SCHOOLS.

-Journalist shares an update from an Indonesian hospital and pleads for others to spread it around as it "may be the last video we are able to send"

-Scottish Parliament votes overwhelmingly to demand a ceasefire

-Sobering texts from a friend providing humanitarian aid in Gaza. "They have been distributing guns to the civilian settlers and allowing them into the West Bank to terrorize people" "We have been given option to leave. None took it"

-"the absolute bare minimum in this situation is 1) a complete ceasefire and immediate humanitarian aid in Gaza, 2) complete halt of all military foreign aid to the Israeli government, 3) the Israeli government being prosecuted for its war crimes in the International Criminal Court, and 4) land back and reparations for the Palestinian people. free Palestine means free Palestine, not just temporarily stop carpet bombing Palestine."

-"It's important that you keep posting and speaking about the ongoing genocide. This 5 day agreement isn't the end of things."

-Boosting the incredible, FREE daily donate button again

-Protests at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade

-"REMINDER THAT ANTISEMITES AREN'T WELCOME HERE AND WON'T BE TOLERATED"

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 13

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“They have a sex tape.”

“They have what?”

“A sex tape” Mason repeated.

“Yours?”

“Obviously” he laughed.

“I’m sorry, I… I… How? When?” Adele asked.

“Why don’t we sit down and I explain everything?”

“Yes, sure.”

“Ok” Mason said, taking a deep breath. “Where should I begin?”

“From the beginning?” she chuckled.

“Yes, of course. It was… it happened during my 21st birthday. I don’t know if you remember, but I was working in the US. I had spent some time in New York, and for my birthday I was in Los Angeles.”

“Oh, I do. I remember seeing all the photos on Instagram while laying on my couch feeling like shit because of a cold. You sent me chocolate macaroons to make me feel better.”

“I wish I had been taking care of you and eating them instead of… Anyway” he sighed. “My friends threw a big party to celebrate because 21 is a big number in the US since you are finally allowed to legally drink and all that, and they invited many people, most of them girls. By the end of the night I was very drunk, and I’m pretty sure I had hooked up with a few girls already. But then, I saw her. She was stunning, and when she came to talk to me, I just couldn’t say no. She was… hypnotizing. Hypnotizing and a bitch” Mason chuckled. “Instead of going to one of the rooms of the house where we were throwing the party, she took me to her hotel room. I think she said she was visiting from Florida, I can’t remember. And then… well, you can imagine what we did. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. She had only left a note behind saying that I should pay for her room before leaving if I didn't want to get in trouble.”

“Oh, how nice.”

“Yeah… A couple of weeks later, my agency called me. Someone was trying to sell some compromising photos from my birthday. They were just me being very drunk, nothing that you hadn’t seen before, but I had just gotten my first big contract, was starting to make a name for myself and being recognized because of me and not because I was Toni Mount’s son, and they didn’t want them to jeopardize everything we had been working so hard for.”

“Look at them being nice for once…” Adele said. “How did they get the video?”

“Whoever was trying to sell the photos wasn’t happy that we had managed to stop them, so they tried with something more juicy. My agency had to ask for many favours and pay a good amount of money to stop the press from publishing it.”

“That juicy is it? Wait, sorry, I…” Adele said, feeling her cheeks burning.

“You can see me completely naked while she gives me… and then she…”

“I can imagine, there is no need to get into details” she interrupted him, her face about to burst into flames. “So your agency paid for the video?”

“Yes.”

“Do they know who was trying to sell it? Was it her?”

“It was her, that bitch had planned it all. Somehow she had found out that there would be famous people at the party and went looking for a victim who would allow her to earn some easy money and maybe become famous. When she took me to the hotel, the camera was already there, ready to film everything we were about to do. I was so stupid…”

“Mason, it wasn’t your fault. How could you have known it was all a trap? Besides, you were drunk. You are lucky you remember all the details you do.”

“I know but… Anyway. That’s what my agency has against me. They say I owe them. Big time. And if I don’t do as they ask, they will release that video and the photos and end my career.”

“That’s blackmail, Mason. You could report that to the police.”

“And the moment they find out, they will release the video and everything will be over” he sighed, letting himself fall on the bed. 

“You don’t know that, Mase. People these days are very aware of what a video like that means. It is a violation of your intimacy. I’m sure your fans would do everything in their power so it doesn’t get shared everywhere, it has happened before. You are so lucky you are a man…”

“But what about the brands I work with? About the designers? What will they think?”

“If a sex tape makes them stop working with you when they keep doing it with people who have done worse, it probably is for the best” Adele shrugged.

“And you? What about you?” Mason asked, sitting up again. 

“What about me?”

“What do you think about me?”

“Can I be completely honest?”

“Please” he said.

“I think you are an idiot.”

“What?”

“Not because of the video. Again, that isn’t your fault, you are the victim here. Double victim if we add what your agency is doing. You are an idiot because you thought I would look at you differently or stop caring about you because of it.”

“But Addie… It’s a sex tape.”

“And?” she laughed. 

“Aren't you like… shocked? Scandalized? Outraged?"

"The only thing I am is angry at that bitch and at your agency. She used you and filmed you without your consent, and they are blackmailing you."

"So if I had known she was filming and had agreed to it… you would not mind?"

“Can I confess something?” Adele said, biting her lower lip.

“It can’t be worse than what I just confessed” he chuckled.

“Remember Ben, my last ex?”

“I do. Why?”

“Well… We liked to take photos or film ourselves from time to time to spice things up.”

“Adele Antonia Turlington!” Mason laughed. 

“You can’t tell anyone. Anyone, you hear me?”

“I won’t, I won’t. But wow. I didn’t expect that from you” he chuckled.

“I’m full of surprises“ she smiled, still not believing she had confessed something like that to Mason. “And here is another one… I will walk that red carpet with you.”

“Wait, what? Are you sure?”

“No, not really. But until we find a way to get rid of your agency, I’m gonna do everything in my power to help you and protect you. And if that means posing in front of a bunch of photographers, then so be it.”

“Addie, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“A thank you will be enough for now.”

“Ok, thank you” he smiled. And this time, it was one of his smiles, one of those that was all dimples. “I love you, Addie.”

“I love you too, Mase” she said as she hugged him, trying not to think too much about the three words they had just said to each other.

[hollywoodsargeant]

What are your favorite Logan and/or Loscar pics?

++ do you have any where Logan is actually smiling with his teeth? I love his smile so much but everytime he sees a camera he does exactly this face :)

i love getting these asks. yes i want to talk about logan for an unnecessary amount of time. yes i will show you pictures of him. this is the greatest day of my life. ik you did not ask for commentary you just asked for pictures but the commentary is included for free thanks for coming

i have so many logan pics… easy answer is they’re all my favorite which is real but i won’t be annoying. also applies to loscar. let’s go. i will give both logan and loscar pics and YES i definitely have some where he's smiling with his teeth i will include (+ if you have not seen my thesis yet i have some real insanity about his smiling tendencies)

anyways. here u go

okay first is this picture bc it's been in my favorites album forever and i think. this is the third time i've been asked for my favorite logan pictures and i always include this one. great merch shoot all around i owe my life to whoever decided it was a good idea to put him in a sleeveless shirt

something about this fucking polo shirt man... i remember seeing a video clip of him walking into the paddock and being like omg the fucking polo shirt. and i took some really horrible quality screenshots. so the actual photo of him is great for my business... and this is monaco fyi

bahrain press con loscar... there r many images from this press conference that i enjoy but here's the two of them gayly staring at each other. and thank god for oscar piastri in shorts great for my business (i want to bite his thighs)

my friend described this once as "the picture where oscar has fully given up" (implied on acting straight) and i think about that a lot

more recent loscar. spectacular work. i love this picture so much it's my banner or whatever on here... and it includes some logan smiling with his teeth. more oscar giving up. really good all around thank you whoever decided mclaren and williams should be paired up here again there are other images from this fanzone thing that i love but this one is my fav

kyle... logan kyle... my favorite florida boys... another one that i'm like. i can't not include it. this one is my banner on twitter (NOT X) and i still love it to tiny little pieces. even if logan is in ultimate Smiling For The Camera Mode i just think he is neat. hockey guy. also hearing kyle talk about this night amuses me bc he called logan a superstar

so. yeah i don't know. something something hometown boy... florida man... special helmet et cetera. he clearly just got a haircut before miami and it's really apparent in all of these shoot photos ANYWAYS this is my favorite picture from his helmet shoot. this or the one of him and benny and benny's wife that is not from the shoot actually it was just on benny's instagram but it makes me smile

his suit does him well. Next

h. for one he looks very impeccably like a ken doll in the first one then the second angle where he's smiling with teeth... very important. i love him so very much i will put him in my pocket goodbye forever

more of him laughing w alex for Reasons. his tendency to touch with the back of his hand... especially while laughing... let's not get into that. bonus austin 2022 bc i am still amused by the fact that alex was against logan in that head2head for some inexplicable reason. it was never acknowledged. latifi just was not there

I JUST THINK HE'S CUTE.

peak logan smile. he's so perfect. Goodnight. actually here's a bunch of random shit i like:

i hit the image limit. thanks man

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

~Big spoon, little spoon (+cuddle) headcanons for the Main 6~

=======================================================================

Loui: mainly little spoon

-he is often the victim of being snatched and cuddled closely (I mean- who wouldn’t snatch and cuddle th living f*ck outta him 🥺)

-he is always the little spoon, with only a few exceptions

-the only way this boy is sleeping is if he is with someone else like Florida, Mass, Texas, or Georgia

-he is very, VERY cuddly, especially when he’s sleepy

=======================================================================

Florida: big spoon

-he is always the big spoon, no matter what

-despite his chaotic energy and personality, he really loves being able to hold his loved ones in his arms as if he were protecting them

-he is always very warm, and while he is absolutely jacked, he is strangely comfortable to cuddle with

-he will snatch literally anybody to cuddle at random times of the day. New York just drinking coffee and contemplating on putting a gun barrel in his mouth? Snatched. Loui just simply existing? Snatched. Texas overworking with no break? Snatched. Gov nonstop working? Snatched.

=======================================================================

Cali: big spoon

-mans is always the big spoon

-he is like Florida, warm and jacked, but comfy

-York usually ends up being his cuddle victim cuz he knows that Yorkie is beyond touch-starved

-during that one winter where Texas and Loui both froze over, Cali and Florida snatched both of them and cuddled them since Flo and Cali were both warm.

=======================================================================

Texas: 50/50

-sometimes he’s the big spoon, other times he’s the little spoon

-he loves being big spoon cuz he’s able to hold those he loves close and "guard" them as they sleep

-this man will NEVER, and I mean NEVER, admit that he loves being little spoon and that he loves being held. Tho it is quite obvious that he enjoys it, seeing as he doesn’t fight back or protest against it if somebody manages to pin him down and cuddle/hug him

-has definitely been manhandled and cuddled by Alaska. No doubt about it. And while he grumbled and protested a bit, he secretly did not mind it, and definitely hopes it’ll happen again (and it does)

-Loui has definitely fallen asleep on top of Texas just so Tex wouldn’t move, and Texas won’t move because he has a "secret" soft spot for Loui, and loves being able to hold those he loves.

=======================================================================

Gov/DC: mostly little spoon

-first off, if you’re gonna cuddle this mf, you’re gonna have to go through the struggle of getting his stubborn *$$ away from his work

-he usually ends up being the little spoon and the big spoon at the same time if there’s two people cuddling him "against his will" (usually Florida and Loui, Florida big-spooning Gov and Gov little-spooning Loui)

-because of how sleep deprived he is, if somebody cuddles him, he will fall asleep nearly instantly, but not without some sleepy protests

-gets handed over to Georgia a lot so that he will actually sleep and not just run on coffee

=======================================================================

And finally New York: little spoon

-yes his scrawny 5’10 *$$ is a little spoon and yes he would rather take a swim in Australia’s oceans and walk through hell in full winter gear before admitting it.

-much like Loui, being cuddled is the only way he’s getting any proper sleep whether he would like to admit it or not

-he will fall asleep in the arms of whoever is holding him whilst purring if they end up petting him like a d*mn cat "against his will" (I say "against his will" cuz he could literally make them stop at any moment if he wanted them to, whether it be with a single word or a punch to the family jewels)

-he usually ends up being the cuddle victim of Cali or Florida and Loui, and he "secretly loves it more than life

-when getting cuddled, for the cuddler it’ll be more like having a sleeping cat next to them if York isn’t fully relaxed (as in, he’s curled up in a ball with his arms wrapped around his torso)

[sailoryooons]

With the new Yoongi photos, I see a lot of people bringing up Scarface references and linking it to the Tony Montana song, which honestly I love. As a Cuban-American and a giant history nerd, I feel like babbling about why Yoongi selecting Tony Montana as a representation of his music is so perfect.

Hali being a fucking long-winded nerd under the cut

For those that aren’t familiar with Tony Montana, who inspired Yoongi’s track Tony Montana, he’s a fictional character in Howard Hawk’s movie Scarface. Tony Montana is a Cuban who, along with thousands of other Cubans, came to Florida by way of the Mariel Boatlift in 1980.

Let’s talk about the historical aspect of this first cause I think everyone should actually know the cultural significance of the Mariel Boatlift. 

The movie starts with the Mariel Boatlift event in 1980. It was basically a mass immigration all at once of Cubans to the United States when Cuba’s president at the time, Fidel Castro, agreed to release the thousands of Cubans who were trying to escape Cuba and its violent communist dictatorship. The US (Carter administration at the time) agreed to take Cubans under asylum - until they realized that a majority of the Cubans Fidel released were only the members of society the Cuban government considered ‘undesirable’. So people who had been in jail for years - and very specifically anyone who identified as queer - were sent to the US where they ended up stuck in immigration camps in absolute CHAOS. 

In the movie, Tony is one of the Cubans released who was a “criminal” (we could discuss for hours what actually constituted a criminal via the Cuban government but that’s not the point). The point is, that because of this realization, the media and the Americans freaked the fuck out when this happened and there was a HUGE wave of hate, backlash, and fear against the Cubans who were now plopped in Miami with nothing to do and nowhere to go. There was a HUGE pushback to get them out of the US and there was a lot of villainization of Cuban people for just existing. 

Thus - the growth of the cartel industry. Miami in particular was built on the back of Cubans and Cuban-Americans and I will die on this hill, and the cocaine boom in the 80s/90s is largely responsible for Miami becoming so funded the way that it was. Through the beginning of the movie, Tony is jumping through hoops as a low-level drug runner, but he’s viewed through the lens of a hero from the audience: does good by his family, has a great relationship with his best friend, is kind of making the best with what he has and wants so much more. We can liken this to how Yoongi views his own story: someone who is just trying to make a life for himself, someone who loves his members and his fans and family, someone who is passionate about what he does and is fighting for his legitimacy. Yoongi is the Tony Montana, being hated and shamed by Western media and even K-Media and struggling with enemies all around him.

The drug trade in Miami at its beginning was predominantly run by elite white men. In the 70s/80s/90s cocaine was a “white man's drug” as it was largely expensive - the majority of it was coming from South America. Tony essentially climbs the ladder through a white man’s game and trade, and ends up top. He slaughters his way there, killing whoever is in his way, and the entire time he does it, the viewer loves his story because he’s so proud and his brutality is from pride and want for power because he comes from nothing. 

This is literally Agust D. It’s Yoongi fighting his way to be who he is, to establish himself. His entire first two albums are consumed with anger and saying fuck the industry because he, like Tony, is good at what he does and even though others do not want him there, he doesn’t care. He will do whatever he wants to get to the top.

And both Tony and Yoongi get to the top, but once there, the enemies are even worse. The people who hate you are tenfold, you’re paranoid, you want more because you realize it isn’t enough, and you feel like you have people trying to fucking snipe you and tear you down every second. Your friends aren’t your friends anymore because you don’t know who is trying to bring you down, but despite all that, you’re the king because you did it. Which is Yoongi’s going in feel like Tony Montana.

Also, it’s not lost on me that using a character not native to the United States who started from nothing and climbed their way to the top with enemies everywhere is the fucking genius of it. Yoongi, a Korean rapper, has dealt with people thinking his music is a joke, not taking him seriously, and having so many haters - especially in the Western music industry predominantly controlled by white media (we can dissect this bullshit too)- likens himself to Tony because of the insane pride, the willingness to do anything, and the way you have so many people out for you when you fucking get there.

There is also a great comparison to draw between the two when you consider that Americans largely hated Cubans when they first came to Florida and it was all: they’re going to take our jobs, they are criminals, they don’t belong here. 

When you look at kpop and the BTS experience in general, it’s the same fucking thing. The Western media does not want BTS here - doesn’t get it. Thinks that kpop and BTS specifically are there to take jobs, that they don’t belong here. And then BTS did it anyway. 

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk idk I could talk about this so much longer and there are more things I want to include but this is just a summary on why Yoongi x Tony Montana is such a vibe.

also fun fact about hali's dad - he went out on his fishing boat to help rescue Cubans from Cuba and brought them back during the Mariel Boatlift lmfao

[stawpny]

GUYS I AM BEGGING YOU

SOMEONE DRAW NEW YORK IN THE 1989 ERAS TOUR OUTFIT OR THE REPUTATION ONE

PLEASE I WOULD LITERALLY COMBUST AT THE SEAMS

AUGHHH

🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

-

anyways, ik a lot of ppl go on here and see when I post, hoping it’s headcannons and I just disappoint them

so here’s some hc’s for u children

ny and the south edition! (pls I don’t know much about the south so don’t kill me 😭 I’m a new yorker)

(the quotes with names on it are southerners communicating with NY or whoever else u want, but more specifically NY)

-

- NC and SC always force NY or any other state who would hate it to sing and/or play the banjo when singing a song at a campfire. Even if they suck at singing or playing the banjo!!!

-speaking of campfires, I believe that the states usually have fires every Summer and Autumn. most get together and sing songs and stuff (u can use this idea if u want)

-New York was forced by Gov to make sure a southern party didn’t go terribly. He stood by the door while Texas wouldn’t leave him alone. He stole Texas’ hat when they all passed out, drunk and still has it to date.

-as (maybe) stated before, York plays a lot of instruments, and sometimes they force him to play the acoustic guitar, harmonica, banjo, electric guitar, etc. The NE makes fun of him for it.

-acts gay especially in front of the south just to make them pissed. he’ll flirt with them and make them uncomfortable with the high amount of gay in the room with them. Florida just goes along with it, laughing and pointing at all the southerners that turn away out of embarrassment.

-made fun of Texas and California when they were outlaws and they just joined the union. “I’m tha toughest cowboy ya will ever meet!” “Mhm.” “DONT JUS’ HUM AT ME!!” >:( -Texas

-They know better than to mess with a northerner. Texas doesn’t though, he’s just stupid. York punched him once and he swore he saw him crying to Virginia after.

-has bit many southerners, does not regret it

-

-“Gimme yer best ‘yeehaw’” “yeehaw..” “Ya can do better than that! I’ve heard ya yell at Jersey.” “yeehaw.” “York, I swear-“ “YEE- FUCKIN’ HAW!”-Texas

-“just add some ol’ bay, it’ll make it taste better.” “No it fuckin’ won’t. Keep that shit away from my brownies.”- Maryland

-played poker against Texas, won and almost got shot by him. (Sore loser)

-“what are yous gonna start growlin’?” “GRRRRR-” -Kentucky

-“nah yer good ‘ere.” “Yous are ontop of me. I dunno if I should feel turned on or uncomfortable..” -Georgia

-“off-brand me.” “southerner you, which makes better.” -also Georgia (Empire State and Empire State of the south)

- “who made you this way..?” “The man yer datin’, Y’know, Mass’.” “He would never-“ “Gin, yous even know the answer to this question, it’s an obvious yes.” -Virginia

-“get rid’a the car at this point.” “Hey! I spent my life savin’s on ol’ reliable ‘ere! I ain’t gettin’ rid o’ her if she jus’ has a leak!” “Life savin’s? Jesus, what’s wrong wit’ yous?” - Tennessee

-“ that’s ‘cause Sippi’ wants a sip of that dick.” “WHAT. I ain’t gay!” *crickets* “GUYS PLEASE-“ -Mississippi

-“are yous happy to live in this shithole?” “Hey! I work hard to make this house a home!” “Work harder next time. This looks like if a hillbilly came in ‘ere trashed the place. Y’know, that makes sense knowin’ that yous idiots live ‘ere.” *walks away* “HEY! YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” -Alabama

- “I HATE YOU!” “NUH UH! I HATE YOU MORE!” “‘nuh uh’ really proves yer point, north.” -NC & SC

- “Mais sha, ya really know how shade the south, huh?” “I’ve had enough of all of yous and I’ve seen ya at yer highest and lowest, so I know what will make yous cry later.” “Uh huh, do me then.” “Nah. Don’ get me wrong, yer barely tolerable, but ya don’ get one.” - Louisiana

(loui was upset later bc he didn’t get one 😭)

-“I swear, ya say anythin’ about me bein’ in ‘misery’ then I’m gonna-“ “Nah, I don’ care ‘bout that. What I do care about is why you like mules better than horses. Isn’t that like the whole southerner thing? Horses and idiots with hats?” -Missouri

-“are yous even apart of the south, or are you like the West Virginia of Kansas?” “JESUS IS GONNA NEED TO BLESS YER ASS SOON, WHAT THE HELL DID YA JUS’ SAY TO ME?!” “I’m Jewish.” -Arkansas

-“yer mid-atlantic, but I understand why ya don’ go to family dinnahs wit’ the Northeast. If I had an excuse, I would use it too.” “You guys are scary up there, I’m shocked you still go to those things. In the ‘contract’ they said they were optional.” “FUCKIN’ OPTIONAL?!” -Delaware

-“I will eat your face.” “Uh huh.” “PAY ATTENTION TO ME OR IM GOING TO DO SOMETHING DRASTIC!” “Uh huh.” “AAAAAAAAA-“- Florida

—

could u tell I got lazy at the end?

anyway, I hope you liked

I spent so long on the quotes, trying to come up with a good one was the hardest part.

and I know half of them are reaaally bad 😭

augh

I have no clue what to do for the next chapter of a fic

but anyways, ily guys

<3

[life-set-to-random]

Oh dear lord… the Ninja Tribunal arch. So much to unpack. Give me strength…

I’m going to try and be fair, I’m going to mention something positive for every complaint I make. I don’t want to be that person after all.

Firstly, please, please, for the love of all things , STOP CALLING OUT ATTACKS LIKE A CHEAP 90S ANIME DUB!!! The original cringe. 😖

Ok, nice thing time. These four were very likable (if not superfluous). I found myself wanting to know more about them and even shipping some of them with the Hamato brothers, if not romantically then at least as besties. Sadly they spend the entire arch building up friendships between these humans and the Turtles only to kill them off in the end. But it feels SO forced. We weren’t given enough time with them to really cry over them as individuals so much as morn the wasted potential they were brimming with. I get they couldn’t kill off the Turtles and thus needed some “Red Shirts” to try and sell the high stakes, but still.

And what about the relatives they were threatened with in the first episode of the arch? Joi Reynard’s Aunt who lives in Japan (I’m assuming Army or Navy brat, she’s WAY too caucasian to even be half Japanese, I’m assuming French ancestry), and Adam McCay’s brother (who never gets a name) in Miami Florida? Faraji Ngala and Yoshida Tora aren’t given specific loved ones to fret over but Tora obviously has someone because he apologizes to Mikey “…our families are at stake.”

Did anyone notify those poor people that their relatives died?! Because they weren’t even mentioned after this.

Side note while we’re on the subject of the folks left behind back on the home front, I hope April or one of the other human Allie’s back in NY are taking care of Klunk. With the way the Hamato clan keeps getting kidnaped for long periods of time, the poor fluff ball could starve easily.

These four, ugh where to start?

Positive note, beautiful visual designs, if not a westerner’s usual hodgepodge of Asian fantasy stereotypes. 🙄😑

Weak backstory, contorting groundbreaking original canon for this series into a very boring and predictable bit of nonsense. Completely unnecessary and obviously half assed, to the point where the Turtles sum it up so succinctly you want to say to Splinter and The Ancient One “That’s how you tell a story!”

Oh and their attitudes sucked! Almost as bad as their communication skills. Thankfully, when he arrived, Splinter flat out called them out on their crap. “How can they prepare themselves if you do not tell them anything?!”

Probably should say something positive again… Um, their voice actors were great?😅 And I love the juxtaposition of the girl being the one to represent strength and having a huge man representing stealth.

The weapons. Positive observations, they’re real weapon types and are actually pretty cool looking. Also it’s nice to see the boys deviated from their comfort zones (not Leo unfortunately, the writers just can’t separate him from swords in their minds apparently). How Leo gets his is so infuriatingly complicated when it didn’t need to be and falls into the trope of “black guy dies first” (then the girl, then the sweetheart, then the cool dude. Did we take a wrong turn into a late 90s horror movie or something?).

The monsters. None of these creatures look like their Japanese inspiration AT ALL! And none of them are Tengu, Tengu doesn’t even mean “demon”! They just stuck Tengu on the end of every other Japanese Yokai name! For no good reason!

I kept hearing that line from Princess Bride in my head. “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

I’m not even Asian and I’m so offended and confused, I can’t imagine how an actual member of the Japanese culture must feel getting shit on like this. Whoever wrote this arch did not respect the source material, the source culture, or the audience because they obviously assumed we were all stupid unaware kids! Ether that, or they were seriously lazy, I suspect both.

And if you’re going to give an English speaking cast of white people Japanese words to say, TEACH THEM HOW TO £¥€&ING SAY THEM CORRECTLY! Jeezus Henry Christmas! (Best Herminone Granger voice) It’s “Oh-Knee” not “On-Eye”!

Bright side, they do look awesome.🤷🏻‍♀️

Im going to have to post about the Tribunal’s dragon forms on another post, I’ve run out of picture space.😑

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022)

 Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022)

Rated PG for action/violence, rude humor/language, and some scary moments

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2023/12/review-puss-in-boots-last-wish-2022.html>

Score: 5 out of 5

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish is a movie I missed last year, which made it kind of annoying to hear so many people praising it to the heavens as one of the best animated films in years, not least of all because I'm the kind of guy who does not like spoilers. Flying down to Florida just in time to share a house with three little kids over Christmas break gave me the perfect opportunity to check it out, and the only thing I'm disappointed about is not seeing it sooner. It doesn't reinvent the wheel or have any pretensions of being a particularly revelatory movie, but it's still an outstandingly well-put-together one in everything from the animation to the characters to the humor to the mayhem. Putting it side-by-side with Shrek, the film that put DreamWorks Animation in the spotlight and which this one is a sequel to a spinoff of, shows just how much the studio has evolved in the twenty-plus years since then, going from mischievous, Looney Tunes-esque pop culture spoofs with barbs aimed directly at Disney to a kind of family-friendly, character-driven adventure comedy that's clearly inspired by the Mouse but still has enough unique style and dramatic edge to stand out. I don't really have much to add to the conversation on this one except to say that it's easily one of the best films that DreamWorks has ever made, especially given what I thought of the movie they released just eight months before this, and one that I expect to stick around as a classic just like Shrek itself.

Set in a fantasy/fairy-tale version of Spain, our eponymous protagonist is an intelligent cat who has exploited his nine lives to become an adventurer who doesn't fear death... at least, not until he loses his eighth life thanks to his carelessness fighting a monster attacking a town. Suddenly, he no longer feels so invincible, especially once he encounters a mysterious wolf bounty hunter who seeks to claim his ninth and final life after watching him squander his previous eight. Going into retirement in an elderly cat lady's home after burying his sword and gear, Puss is dragged back to the world of adventure when Goldilocks, the thuggish leader of the Three Bears Crime Family (guess who her "enforcers" are), seeks to hire him to find the Wishing Star, a magical rock that would grant one wish to whoever discovers it -- and she won't take no for an answer. Puss decides that this star is his key to regaining his nine lives, and with help from an old flame named Kitty Softpaws, he sets out to find it himself, staying one step ahead of Goldilocks, the evil businessman "Big" Jack Horner who wants it for his own ends, and of course, the Wolf.

The look of the film is one of the most immediately striking things about it. While it's not the first film to use cel shading to make computer animation emulate the look of hand-drawn animation while being distinct from both (Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and The Mitchells vs. the Machines did something similar recently), it's going for a different set of influences than those films, its look instead resembling a mix of the fairy tale artwork that the Shrek movies have always spoofed and anime in the action scenes. The settings feel lifted almost from a highly stylized painting or storybook, while the action looks downright sublime, the film's characters doing battle, chasing one another, and facing various treacherous foes on their quest for the Wishing Star in all manner of awesome ways. Even as cats, Puss and Kitty came across as credible and cool adventure heroes, especially with Antonio Banderas and Salma Hayek Pinault leaning heavily into their live-action screen personas, Banderas playing Puss as a riff on Zorro where the only real "parody" element comes from his species and Hayek playing Kitty as the cool femme fatale who has history with the hero that they'll inevitably have to settle. Florence Pugh was hilarious doing her best gender-flipped Ray Winstone impression as Goldilocks, especially with the real Winstone himself voicing one of the three bears (alongside Olivia Colman and Samson Kayo), while John Mulaney made Horner into an absolute bastard who I couldn't wait to see get his well-deserved comeuppance. At first glance, with three separate groups of characters all racing for the Wishing Star, this film can feel sprawling, and yet it always manages to tie these three stories together in a way that feels organic.

The key to doing this was the Wolf. From the moment we're introduced to him, he's presented as a metaphorical representation of death itself, an impossibly skilled fighter who trounces and nearly kills Puss in their first encounter and who is seemingly unstoppable from that point onward, every meeting he has with Puss feeling like it could be their last. The film's comedy stops dead cold whenever the whistling announcing his arrival starts up, Wagner Moura's performance lending him an almost demonic menace without going over-the-top into cackling supervillainy. He is one of the best villains I've seen in any animated film in a long while, a no-nonsense monster whose evil combines the most terrifying elements of an unstoppable force of nature and somebody who hates you personally, the closest thing that a family film could come to an outright slasher movie villain. There have been many jokes made about this film having one of the most realistic depictions of a panic attack in any animated film, but watching it, it was no joke: I understood immediately how this guy completely disarmed Puss' suave, arrogant demeanor and left him a trembling wreck running for his life. The Wolf wasn't just scary, he was a perfect villain for Puss, a representation of how his wasted life is finally catching up with him, and watching Puss reach a place where he can finally confront the Wolf and turn the tables on him was immeasurably satisfying.

From this, we get a fairly simple moral that largely boils down to a celebration of living life to the fullest rather than either wasting it on hedonism or remaining stuck in an idealized past. It's nothing revolutionary, but not only is it exactly the kind of thing that the fairy tales this movie is sending up have long embraced, it's well-told enough that I fully bought into it. If the original Shrek was a deconstructive parody of fairy tales that sent up their moral messages while offering a few of its own, then this film serves largely as a more faithful, straightforward throwback to them, amped up with a swashbuckling action/adventure plot and some jokes for the parents but otherwise falling squarely within the modern, post-Kung Fu Panda DreamWorks wheelhouse.

The Bottom Line

It's a very straightforward movie once you get past the stylish animation, but hardly to a fault, as it's still a riotous, heartfelt, and just plain awesome ride that delivers exactly where it counts and doesn't overstay its welcome. Easily one of the best family films of the last ten years.

[brattylikestoeat]

Bratty! You’ve briefly mentioned your experiences with the guys in Florida (I think they were all military and you were a done?) could k please ask what you learned about yourself and about men?

The little you shared - they were nice, scarred from their experiences, some had acid tasting junk - made me curious about the whole thing.

I’m surprised they were willing to be vulnerable and share that they were so lonely and troubled - is that something you had to work at or were they already in that space? How did the pegging go - did they enjoy it or were they trying hard to prevent you from seeing how much they liked it?

Love questions like this.

1) kinda mixing up two different experiences. Gator and Chez were from flordia. When I lived in Hawaii I dealt with a few military men (guy who jizz tasted like acid).

2) my first experience with being a SB and Domme where in Hawaii. I didn’t know it was called being a SB but regardless this older Asian man paid me weekly to spend time with him. No fucking, some kissing and touching but he was mostly lonely and just wanted some company.

As for what I learned about myself, I learned to be my own ducking person. Mind you I’m 19 when I get to Hawaii. I learned that I had my own needs and wants. I learned any type of relationship wasn’t just about making men happy.

As for what I learned about men. That color, background, education level most men at the core are the same. Men wanna be around women they think are pretty and most are willing to do anything to make that happen.

People in general just tend to be comfortable around me. I can put anyone at ease, I’m a people person even tho I hate talking and being the center of attention. It’s something I can turn on/ off.

As far as men go, I can be whoever they want. My true personality is a introvert. Ted likes a damsel in distress, so that’s who I am with him. Donald like a strong take charge domme, so that who he get.

I’ve only pegged two guys. Donald and someone else. And they both enjoyed it for different reasons and they both ask for it first. I never bring up pegging to a man. Like Mr. No Name said something after we went to a adult store. Just him bringing it up means he already comfortable with me.

[colleenmurphy]

"B...Bruce! Pull. Up! I SEE TREES! We almost HIT THAT EAGLE!"

Was all he heard from his terrified flight companion turned in flight entertainment. Her long dark hair was spilling down from it's plastic hair clip and her aviators were sliding down her nose as her hands waved wildly at the clear blue sky that matched her eyes.  He couldn't help but grin a slow easy grin at her. She was truly his fish out of water today. 

"Man...you're a mermaid, huh?"

"If I'm a mermaid then you're an albatross!"

The belly of the plane was mere inches from the pristine tree line as they roared along with the flight path of the local geese. He had to admit her hometown was a pretty little place. Pulling up they had a better view of some cozy houses along the coastline. In fact they buzzed Minnie's place as they spotted her in the back yard having a cigarette. He decided to show off a smidge and loop a hello before continuing on. The neighbor's grandson now things the Murphy house is the coolest place on earth.

He'd been born in Chicago, moved around to Indiana as a kid and then joined up to the Army on his 18th birthday. He'd been in Florida ever since after he'd come home from his three tours. The woman to his right was about ten years his junior, an internationally licensed boat captain named Mary Colleen Murphy, or Col as she preferred to be called. Currently marveling at the view her face lit up like a kid at Christmas.  He could count the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the fact that her eyes were now tinged a little spring green meant she's calmed down enough to enjoy herself. The fact that they could simply pack a bag and fly out to her hometown from their place in the Hatcher Keys blew her mind. To Bruce it was just another two hour flight that went smoothly. 

"I can deal with being a bird. Here's the part you hate..."

He figured ample warning would help settle her stomach. She knew that the most critical time was during take off and landing, it still didn't help her body to know not to gag at an angle normally not achieved. 

"I doubt I'll ever get my license. I've a feeling that's not looked kindly on during the final exam?"

Her dry reassurance to him that she was fine. They were traveling light this time, just some luggage and gifts for the family and friends she had to introduce him to. There had been talk to merging her mother's bar, The Gull's Nest and their place The Trade Winds but they had yet to put anything into writing. Minnie was setting to retire and move closer to her own mother in Miami so it only made sense to keep it in the family...unless Harvey Starling, Col's god father wanted first dibs at a turn key operation. Bruce knew Colleen would gladly do that over taking it over. Even though she lived down south nearly 1500 miles away she still cared about the town where she'd grown up. 

"BVY tower, N2789 5 miles west, inbound for landing."

The crackle of the controller picking up filled his head. Whoever it was had a hell of a head cold. 

"N2789 you're clear for landing. Welcome to Massachusetts."

"I can't just take it from them, Bruce. The Gull's Nest was built by my great grandfather when the town was founded. Second on the waterfront besides the old butcher and green grocer. Did you know the Starling's used to own that? That's how far back our families go...oh my god Harvey! Hel's florist shop is right there...perfect!"

He'd heard her last night as she'd packed for them both. He'd admitted to her that he didn't have a clue about packing for cold weather anymore so she had delighted in walking him through her process and parts of her family's backstory came out as she carefully rolled his shirts and pants up. She'd learned the military packing style. Bulky sweaters went on top to act as a cushion if you were bringing back souvenirs, or in Col's case, if you were bringing a stash of homegrown herb to share with your mother and best friends. Deep down his wife really was a pirate, even if she didn't realize it. 

"Who taught you how to pack?"

"Chief Petty Officer James Murphy Sr."

Bruce caught a glimpse of a pirate smile ghost across his companion's face. All he could picture for a moment was his wife in a plumed buccaneers hat with a dainty silver dagger between her teeth. Perhaps he'd just given himself a new tattoo idea. 

"He was a Navy man...then he came home became a cop and met my mom."

"All American boy."

"Guess you could say that. My mother was almost a nun until she met him."

"Damn beats Mel and Rita's story. She was a barmaid and he was bootlegger."

"Two sides of the same coin, Miller."

The tidy landing strip was fast approaching as the landing gear came out. Wheels touched down and all was well. Another one down in the flight logs. 

In their combined down time from the bar they did flight and boat charters together under the Trade Wind Tours name for the tourists. They weren't above doing a favor to a friend or two with flying in goods. Colleen was going to be needed if his buddy Whit ever gave up his wings. She had also expressed an interest in doing angel flights for sick and needy children. 

"You'd be surprised. My first time I puked out of a bird just straight up didn't care about anything except not wearing it. Bulls eye on an enemy from above. I can still see his face...I still feel bad about that."

"You were under heavy fire in a military war plane. Vastly different as I'm not open and exposed."

Reaching out to pat his jean clad thigh she sighed. 

"You'd be amazed at people can forgive. I'm sure you were the least of his worries back then. You both just wanted to get home."

He'd forgotten she'd been a nurse and just how deeply her compassion ran. He smirked and patted her back as they pulled upwards 

"If it makes you feel better I get sea sick."

A deep chortle sounded in his head that warmed him. 

"Always keep above deck where you can see the horizon and get fresh air or keep to the middle of the boat."

He heard the snicking flick of her lighter.

"You forget we're still in an airspace?"

"Nope. But I figured out my window. Until they come out with a flameless option I'm sticking with hand rolls. Helps my stomach and in all honesty I think you may need some when we're on solid ground. You're wide eyed and your eyebrows are touching your hairline. I love you, Minnie loves you...my Grandmother loves you, Harvey and Helene are going to adore you too."

Directing towards the hangar Bruce shook his head. 

"The last thing I need to do is meet the town chief of police smelling like your home grown, Col."

Wide innocent eyes met his as she held out the joint with a smile. Her next sentence made his face fall momentarily.

"But he's my god father...and I know the perfect spot."

Nimble tanned hands rolled two more joints as they were directed into the proper hangar by the ground crew, a rather an elderly portly white haired fellow wearing safety orange muffs with 'Willy' stitched into his green coveralls. Waving his sticks he looked almost like a Yankee blue collar ballerina.  A thankful two finger wave and they had some privacy.  

"Thanks Willy!"

Colleen called as she hopped out earning a Roebucker smile her way, Willy's teeth matched his shocking white hair before he hobbled back into the warmth of the hangar office. Col had grabbed her small shoulder bag and her flash light before taking off out of sight. Giving him a bird whistle he saw her crook her finger from inside what looked like a solid tree line. 

"Join me on a side quest brave traveller."

Snow crunched under their feet as he followed Colleen. She evidently knew exactly where they were going to end up. A twisting path lead to a rough stone walking path the lead to a rumbling sound. 

"Watch your step here..."

Her left hand reached out to touch a large pine tree with 'HS + JL' carved into the bark and it made him smile to see her reconnect with a tangible object from her past. The initials were newly carved into the bark, especially the JL. From the look on Col's face HS finally found a love well deserved. 

"Where...what...wow."

Looming overhead was a weather beaten lighthouse sitting at the mouth of the harbor. It's light cutting through the fog that was setting in. Between the two of them they'd planned the timing perfectly.  

"This is Tortoise Harbor light...or Turtle Point. I've mentioned it a few times in my stories of home but well...this used to be our secret spot. Me and Helene Starling. A little birdie told me that there's still heat in it."

Knocking the snow from their boots they ventured into and up to the top of the ancient lighthouse on the point. Outside the winds had picked up and the sound of rain was almost indistinguishable against the sound of the surf hitting the rocky coastline. 

"We used to come up here all the time watching for our Dads when they sailed away or came back in. I guess it was our clubhouse...in some way it still is."

The very top held a battered fold out couch upholstered in a rather interesting shade of pea soup green and outfitted with numerous blankets and throw pillows. A handmade three tier shelf held ancient paperbacks along with a wire spool coffee table with bar ashtray advertising 'the regal taste of Reinhardt beer'. tucked to the left hand side by the railing away from the light. The floor below still held a snug little alcove with a lamp and a few layered feather beds for the nights that were especially tough going home. 

"We used to have a working kitchen and bathroom downstairs but that's been boarded up since we were in our 20's. That's the past though."

Settling herself down onto the couch she sighed before inviting him to sit down as she lit the joint. He'd have wondered what she looked like young and carefree and unscarred but she seemed to bloom before him. Healed and restored. The smell of her homegrown hit him right between the eyes and he smiled as curled in next to him. The storm raging outside as they flew higher together allowing their inner teenagers to bond for the first time.

[cilldaracailin]

I Was Born To Love You

Hello my Tumblr Lovely's

Thanks so much for the lovely likes on this story :)

Here is the next part,

Suze xx

11

“Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.”

In the hotel room, Taron was in the same position but on the bed in the bedroom. His shower was one of the quickest he had had in the bathroom since they had arrived, excited about where they would end up for dinner and as he stepped out, he had heard Robyn speaking with her American friend, the 7/11 the hot topic. It sent jittery shivers through his spine, a cold sweat to break out on his clean skin and he struggled to wrap the towel around his waist, the word ‘closure’ crippling him. He hadn’t wanted to come to Florida. It was the last place he wanted to travel to but with Robyn, he would have gone anywhere and with their promise of going nowhere near the 7/11, they had had the most amazing time.

Until now. When everything just went downhill very quickly.

He could still feel the annoyance in his body, the frustration bubbling inside but as he lifted his head and looked around the empty bedroom, his stomach dropped. He closed his eyes and thanked whoever he could for having Robyn in his life because he loved her more than he ever did at the moment, if it was at all possible. While walking away was something he knew she hated doing, she ended their argument before it went too far and stopped them both from hurting each other but he was worried he had already said too much.

It was so clear they were both still completely overwhelmed by the 7/11. He knew he was still shaken maybe more so than he realised but he never thought Robyn would want to go back, would even consider thinking about it. Especially after how she was still affected by what she did for him even after all the sessions she had with Penny and conversations with him. Going through the first aid training was clear proof of that.

He ran his hands through his damp hair and threw himself back on his back on the bed. He had heard the conversation on the phone and immediately thought the worst and went right to judging when he should have asked her but anything to do with the 7/11 always got his back up and made his thoughts blur. But Robyn had done something that he hadn’t been able to stop himself from doing and that was walk away when very harsh words were being exchanged in the horrible heat of the moment. Robyn walked away before it went too far while at the same time making it very clear she very much loved him.

Touching his cheek, she left with a kiss on his skin and instructions to follow her. He didn’t have to think hard to know where she would be. On his feet, he got dressed quickly, taking his phone and wallet and left the hotel room. Once through the lobby, he by passed the pool and wished he hadn’t worn his runners as they quickly filled with sand as he passed the small dunes on his way to the beach. Expecting to see his beloved girlfriend in his eyeline beyond the sun loungers, he stopped when he didn’t see her among those strolling through the white sand.

“Shit.” Cursing to himself, he went right to the water, wondering if she was actually in the ocean. He shook his head and looking left and right, decided to go right. He had learnt from Robyn that to the left was the busy side of the peer so he turned right and walked down the sand. As he walked, he pulled his phone from his pocket and clicking into his WhatsApp thread with Robyn, send her a love heart, rocket and a man, his heart thumping wildly, biting his lower lip deeply as he pocketed his phone and walked along the shore.

The sand was cool on her feet, the water warm each time it reached her toes but Robyn sat with her arms folded around her knees, her hair blowing in the light wind of the evening after she had taken her plaits out. Her sigh was long and heavy. She just wanted to get up and walk back to Taron and wrap her arms around him, snuggle into his neck and breath every inch of him in. Being away from him was horrible when need called for it but he was only a ten-minute walk away and she felt like he was on the other side of the world. Everything blown up so quickly over something so stupid. She wished she had of just said no to Maggie. A flat out no and ended the conversation there.

Her phone dinged from her bag in the sand and as she wiped a lone tear from her cheek, she took her phone from her bag. Expecting her millionth text from Claire, she was so surprised to see Taron’s name on her screen. Swiping down so she could read the message without him knowing she had done so, her eyes welled up. Clicking into the message, she immediately sent back a love heart and chicken, dropping her phone down, her head going back to her knees.

“I love you Taron.” She whispered to herself.

“I love you too.”

She felt arms drape around her shoulders and knew immediately it was Taron beside her. That beautiful fresh shower scent she had always loved, before they even got together, the hint of lime from the shower gel she had brought wafting around him. She adored the way how his bare skin against hers made her stomach jump, his skin wonderfully soft as he caved to the green jar of after sun on day two of their break. His lips brushed the lightest of kisses on her skin as he sat beside her on the sand, her arms curling up over his forearm as his head rested on her right shoulder.

“Thank you.” He said after a minute of them just sitting together without a word exchanged between them.

“For what?” She asked quietly.

“For stopping me from speaking, walking away.”

“Taron…” Robyn turned to him, her left hand going to his face as he lifted his head. “I didn’t walk away for you. I did it for me because I knew if I was to stay, I would have said something to you that I would never forgive myself for.” Her words turned to a whisper at the end.

“Cariad…”

“I am sorry for walking away, again.”

“Robyn…”

“I am sorry too for whatever you heard from the phone call and I promise nothing was organised to go to the 7/11 with Maggie, I swear and I told her no straight away Taron because I know it was what we promised each other when we booked this trip because I know it is something that you did not want when we came here and you know I would never ever break that promise to you because I don’t think you actually know how much it would hurt me to know that I have hurt you and that is something I would never ever do intentionally and I promise that I told Maggie…”

Having her words cut off by a kiss, Robyn closed her eyes and kissed him back, lips parting after a few seconds.

“I love it when your words just flow into each other like that.” Taron smiled with another kiss. “I am sorry if my words hurt you Robyn and please know, I don’t think you planned this trip just to go to the 7/11 and I know you are excited for New York and I don’t believe for one second that you got your way Robyn. We planned this together and I wanted to come here and you made sure many times that I was ok with coming here, even when we were on the plane and you even told me to tell you if I was uncomfortable and we would go somewhere else and I haven’t been once. I wanted to come to Clearwater to create some new memories…” He stopped and brushed some damp hair from her face. “But the old ones still scare me.” He moved to sit closer to her, his right hand stretching over to hold her left hand, while his own left hand rested on her thigh. “I think they always will but that doesn’t mean that I should disregard your feelings and what you would like Robyn.”

“We don’t have to do this now.” Robyn murmured.

“No we do.” Taron insisted gently. “Because I was horrible to you back in the hotel room.”

“You were expressing your feelings. You are allowed to do so.” She replied.

“I know but not like that. Not with such disgust and no thought for your feelings.” He lifted her hand to kiss it lightly. “While I am not ready to go back to the 7/11, you could be and may need that…” He paused.

“Closure?” Robyn finished.

“Yeah.”

Robyn gave a shrug. “I don’t know Taron. I think maybe one day it is something I need but not now, not when I am with you. This is our time together. Time that is limited and short and I would never ever want you to feel that I would force you into something I know you don’t want to do or something you are not ready for. I don’t even know if I am ready for it. One day, it is something I feel I will do.” She gave his hand a tug. “But not this week.”

“I did get the wrong end of the conversation, didn’t I?” Taron murmured.

“It’s ok. It happens but I did tell Maggie no and I definitely want to go to New York and be fancy fancy with you.”

“I am really sorry about what I said to you Robyn.”

“And I told you that you don’t have to be. I want you to express your thoughts and feelings to me and I am sorry too. My words weren’t very nice either.”

“But I need a filter.” He blushed.

Robyn shook her head. “I need to know if I have said something to upset you Taron and you need to know that you can ask me if you heard something that you are uncomfortable with. There is no need for a filter. If we cannot be honest and truthful with each other, then we are doing each other a terrible injustice to the relationship we have. What you said to me were your honest and true feelings and you don’t need to apologise for them.”

“But I am still sorry Robyn.”

“I know and I am too and it’s ok.”

“Yeah?”

“Very much so.” She turned her head to him and gave him a kiss. “Once we are always able to sit down and talk about it afterwards, we will always be ok and you always seem to be able to find me when I walk away.”

“If there wasn’t a beach right beside us, I probably would still be looking.” He chuckled as she pushed him away, only to wrap her arms around his waist. “I know why you did it though and I am thankful. I just felt so angry and, well…”

“Betrayed?” Robyn suggested.

“It sounds so terrible but yes in a way.” He appreciated how Robyn squeezed him harder as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “But next time, maybe you could just stick with the pool.”

“Next time?” Robyn lifted her head.

“Yeah, my shoes are full of sand.”

Her giggles echoed around them.  “Next time I will go to the pool but Taron, there won’t be a next time. I think it is something we will always have to work on. Our communication skills but can I just ask you before we continue our wonderful time together…” She turned in the sand, getting to her knees so she could properly look at him. “Are you dreaming about what happened?” She lifted her hand to his chin to make him keep eye contact with her. “Please Taron, are you?”

“Sometimes. It started a few weeks ago.”

“Around the year mark.” Robyn kept her hand on his chin.

“Yeah.”

“Me too.” She moved her hands to his cheeks. “And how about now?”

Taron shook his head. “Not now. My dreams are much nicer now.”

Robyn felt the heat in his cheeks under her hands. “Mine too.” She leaned in to kiss his lips. “I love you.”

Taron’s hands found their place over hers. “I love you.” He kissed her back once. “Robyn, I am so glad to be here with you. Clearwater is beautiful and I have made so many new and wonderful memories with you.”

“And learnt not to wear your runners on the sand.” Robyn chuckled.

“Ugh, yes.” Taron took his hands from her face.

“I am sorry.” Robyn leant in to give him a quick kiss. “It is kinda my fault your shoes are full of sand.”

He shook his head smiling. “Not at all and it is an easy fix.” He pulled off each shoe and dropped them to his right side. “I can give them a shake out later.” He stretched out in front of him, the waves washing over his feet. “It is so much cooler at night.” He commented.

“It is but I thought you were getting used to the heat.”

“I am.” He agreed. “But it is nice not to be sweating through my clothes.”

“’Cos you have been wearing so many clothes here.” Robyn laughed.

His own laughter followed. “True it has been mostly swim trunks but ya know, still sweaty.”

“No complaints from me.” Robyn stretched her legs out beside his. “This has been one the best holidays I have ever been on.”

Taron had replied to her but the crack of thunder above them drowned out his words and as soon as the thunder ended, the sky lit up with flashes of lightening, a few drops of rain turning into a very heavy rainfall. Robyn turned to look at Taron her face laughing as the rain fell in sheets of large drops, both of them soaked through quickly, Taron’s laughter joining hers.

“Our first thunderstorm!” She looked up with her eyes closed, enjoying the freshness from the rain.

“I need to stop wearing white.”

Robyn looked at Taron after he spoke and laughed harder at his appearance. His forehead was covered by his wet hair and his t-shirt had turned mostly see through from the rain. Getting to her knees, she used both her hands to move his hair away from his eyes, her fingers spiking it up a little before the rain flattened it again. “It’s a good look for you though.” She leaned in to kiss his forehead. “But maybe a switch to blue or green. Not so see through.”

“Not so see through.” He agreed lifting his head to kiss her lips. “I didn’t know it was going to rain though.”

Robyn’s hands had moved around to the back of his neck. “Taron you know I love you more than anything right? And I would never do anything…” A kiss stopped her words, a second slower one nearly taking her breathe away. “Ok I guess you do.”

“I do and Robyn, you know…” When his kiss was returned with extra enthusiasm he breathed in deeply and cupped her cheeks. “So we are both in agreement.”

“Yes, that you need more coloured t-shirts.” She chuckled.

“Robyn…” His face lit up in a beautiful smile.

“We can go look in the shops for some. Maybe a tie-dye one.”

His laughter echoed around them. “Well if we are going tie-dye then you are most definitely getting one too.”

“Sure.” Robyn got to her feet and held out her hands. “And we can get you a hat to match. Let’s go get out of this rain. I know the perfect shop to get you some new coloured t-shirts.”

Taron took her hands and accepted her help to his feet and once up, he pulled her into him hugging her close. Completely drenched through, the hug was still gorgeously warm as they snuggled deeply into each other. Robyn closed her eyes and buried her nose further into his shoulder, tightening her arms around him. A hug she had been desperate for earlier, she didn’t want to let him go. An apology and understanding of each other’s feelings, the disagreement was acknowledged and forgiven. She had been so distracted by soaking his heat in, that it was too late for her to feel him drop his arms and move to pick her up, half carrying her over his shoulder and she was looking at the ocean waves before she could even protest, soon fully submerged into the warm water.

Surfacing with a grin, she threw herself at Taron, both toppling over, coming up laughing together.

“This is much better in the gulf then Aberystwyth.” He grinned, swimming over to her. “Warm for one.” He took her hands under the water.

“It’s a good thing we were already wet.” She smiled.

“Yes indeed. Can’t get wetter than the ocean.”

“But I wouldn’t suggest a long stay with a thunderstorm over our heads.” Robyn turned her face towards the flash of lightening she saw to the side.

“Just felt like a swim.” Taron shrugged.

“And to make your t-shirt more transparent too?”

“I really want that tie-dye one.”

“I wouldn’t want to not follow through with your wishes, so how about we get out of the water and say we got caught in the rain and get you the t-shirt?”

With a nod, they swam and then waded out of the water, the rain still falling around them. Shoes back on and hand in hand, they strolled along the shore, the beach pretty much to themselves as the rain, thunder and lightning rolled around them.

The storm and late evening had driven most of the people around inside and those who were out, looked a little less wet than the couple as they headed into the surf style shop. They grinned at the staff who gave them a smile, a chuckle at their very wet appearance.

“Storm came from nowhere.” Robyn shrugged, Taron’s hand tight in hers.

“Tends to do that here. Just be careful with the floor. It could be slippery.” The staff grinned.

Still hand in hand, they strolled through the rails of clothes and both chose a tie dye t-shirt, Robyn’s a little less colourful with just a tie dye pocket and once paid for, they left the shop, the rain having stopped as quickly as it started.

“We never did figure out what to do for food.” Taron could feel and hear his stomach rumbling as they headed back in the direction of the hotel. “And the buffet is closed. Maybe we could try one of the restaurants on the strip.” He suggested. “They could still be open.”

“Wait, are you telling me that you are up for a meal outside the hotel and not room service?” Robyn joked, stepping out of his way as he went to tickle her, coming back to side with a hug. “There is a place very close to the hotel that does amazing food and the best key lime pie.”

“Better than yours?”

She chuckled. “It’s amazing.”

“Sounds good to me but I am still pretty soaked.”

“The restaurant I am thinking of is pretty close to the hotel, so why we don’t we quickly go into our room and change and then head back out.”

“Plan made.”

Twenty minutes later, the two were seated upstairs in a restaurant at the railing overlooking the marina, a menu on their hands. Crabby’s was a usually busy place but they were eating late, so while normally crowded, there were empty tables but still a nice evening buzz around. They had already ordered some cocktails and were deciding on what to eat.

“Let’s just get what we want.” Robyn told Taron. “We haven’t really had much to eat since breakfast and it’s our first proper meal out.”

With that in mind, the chose a starter and main to have and when the food arrived, it was steaming hot, fresh and delicious and after two cocktails, they chose to get dessert to go along with another cocktail, their evening ending on a high.

Back at the hotel, Taron sprawled out on his back on the bed, a goofy happy smile on his face. “That was a great dinner.”

Laying beside him but on her side, Robyn agreed. “It’s a good place.”

“Those cocktails were too easy to drink though. I think I might be fuzzy.”

Robyn smiled at his words. “Fuzzy in a good way.”

“Definitely good fuzzy.” He turned his face to her. “It was a good day today.” He yawned through his words. “I like it here. A lot. It’s the most relaxed I have been in such a long time and I get to be here with you.”

“Is this the fuzzy cocktails talking?” Robyn laughed.

“Hmmm who knows but I am relaxed and fuzzy with you.”

Robyn moved closer to him so she could run her hand slowly up and down his chest. “I think that last cocktail was a bad idea.”

“Nope. It had a colourful umbrella.”

Robyn smiled at his words. “Maybe you have had too much sun.”

“Nope.” Taron replied lazily. “Nice and brown. You are nice and brown and all my freckles are back.”

“Your freckles?”

“My freckles.” He confirmed.

Robyn brushed his hair from his face. “Sure, your ones.” She gently scratched his head.

“Hmm nice.” He murmured.

Robyn deepened the pressure, hearing his long exhale. He had had many head massages over the last few days and she adored giving him each one, loving how easily he melted into her hands but knew something he would love as much as a head massage and that was a full body one. Remembering they had free access to the spa as a couple, she took her hands from his head and stretched over him to get to the phone on the bedside locker.

“Hey!” Taron protested, his head turning the opposite side so he could see her. “Massage.”

Robyn had the receiver to her ear and was waiting for her call to be answered but looked to him. “I am working on the massage for you.” Her attention went back to her call when a women spoke and after a few minutes she had booked them both into the spa for the next morning, organising a facial and a massage for Taron. “Now massage all booked.” She rolled off him and lay beside him once more.

“Will you be my therapist?” He asked with a grin, Robyn shaking her head as his request. “You booked us the spa?”

“I did.”

“You don’t like a spa.”

“No but you do and it’s included in our all-inclusive and you did all the dolphin bits with me and it is not that I don’t like a spa, I just hate the sitting around but I will happily go and sit with you while you have a little relax and the lady on the phone told me there was a pool that can be used so I can go swimming. She also said we will get the couples room to ourselves and you only have to leave to go to the therapy room which you will be escorted too.”

“Well that all sounds wonderful Robyn. Thank you.” He leaned up to kiss her. “Go out with me.” He said against her lips.

“Sorry?”

“Go out with me.” He repeated.

“Taron, last time I checked, I was already going out with you.”

He pulled himself up and sat against the pillows. “No I mean, on a date. Go out with me on a date.”

“A date?”

“Yeah, a date.”

“Haven’t we not moved past the dating stage?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course not. I want to bring you out on a date. A dinner. A nice dinner. Tomorrow evening.”

“You are serious.”

“Robyn, will you please go out with me tomorrow evening.” He asked with compete sincerity in his voice.

“I would love too.”

Date confirmed with a kiss, they moved to get changed and ready to sleep, Robyn setting their alarm so they would be able to have breakfast before their spa tomorrow and not sleep in too late.

“Best holiday ever.” Taron said sleepily as he pulled her back against his chest as they lay under the duvet. “Just the best.”

Robyn easily agreed with him and pulled his arm tighter around her, soaking up his warmth, thinking only about how much time they still had left together on their holiday and how much she loved the man who held her so tight in his arms.

[gatekeeperwatchman]

Daily Devotionals for December 01, 2022

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living Devotional Scripture: Proverbs 29:12-14 (KJV): 12 If a ruler hearkens to lies, all his servants are wicked. 13 The poor and the deceitful man meet together: the LORD lighteneth both their eyes. 14 The king that faithfully judgeth the poor, his throne shall be established forever.

Proverbs 29:12-14 (AMP): 12 If a ruler listens to falsehood, all his officials will become wicked. 13 The poor man and the oppressor meet together -- the Lord gives light to the eyes of both. 14 The king who faithfully judges the poor, his throne shall be established continuously.   Thought for the Day

Verse 12 - We know that a ruler who keeps company with liars, is also corrupt himself. Those who are wicked do not want men of integrity around them, so the officials they choose to serve them will also be wicked. It goes back to the adage: "Birds of a feather, flock together."

Verse 13 - Although the poor and the deceitful may be worlds apart in their manner of living, both receive sight from God. Mankind has been bestowed with life and blessings that come only from God. He created the earth for all people, even those who do not acknowledge that it came from Him. He gives us eyes and sunlight by which to see valleys, mountains, rivers, animals, and all creation. He causes the sun to shine on the good and the evil. He sends rain on the just and the unjust. "…That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust" (Matthew 5:45). He gives men natural gifts, enabling us all to contribute to the good of society. Like snowflakes, each of us is unique. He has a specific purpose for each of us, which we can only fully understand when we give our lives to Him.

By His plan for mankind, God created the perfect Garden of Eden. There Adam and Eve lived, worked, and enjoyed fellowship with Him. When they disobeyed Him, sin began to defile both them and all the earth; so God then initiated His plan of redemption. At the determined time, He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, into the world to atone for the sins of mankind. According to the plan, through Christ, all people can be restored to Him if they accept what Jesus did for them and surrender to God's will. Whoever gives his life to the Lord receives spiritual gifts in addition to his natural gifts. In the natural, God gives us eyes to see the light of the sun and what it illuminates. In the spirit, He gives us sight and revelation to perceive His Light and Truth.

Verse 14 – A good ruler faithfully judges the poor. He does not deny them the right to be heard. He does not pervert justice, but judges fairly and uphold the poor man when he is in the right. God establishes the rule of such a man. Jesus will one day return to earth and establish His righteous reign on earth. He is the only completely just and upright King, and His rule shall indeed be established forever. Prayer Devotional for the Day Dear heavenly Father, We thank you for the many gifts You have given to us, as Your children. We do appreciate eyes to see Your beautiful creation. We are grateful that You gave us so many things to see and enjoy on this earth. We also thank You for the gifts You have given to us personally. We know that You have given us the gift of writing and we are grateful. We are also humbled that You would use us to share the revelations You have given to Your people. Lord, we dedicate our lives and gifts to Your work. Please use them to bring glory to Your Name. I Steven P. Miller ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

From: Steven P. Miller CEO/ Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups, At @GatekeeperWatchman1 , @ParkermillerQ, @steven_p_miller; https://www.facebook.com/ https://www.instagram.com/ https://www.tumblr.com/ Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA.;

GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #GatekeeperWatchman1, #Shebuel, #Melkizadeck, #Brainstormer, #Ephraim1, #IAM

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for June 18, 2024

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 19:3(KJV): 3 The foolishness of man perverteth his way: and his heart fretteth against the LORD. Proverbs 19:3(Amp): 3 The foolishness of man subverts his way (ruins his affairs); then his heart is resentful and frets against the Lord.

Thought for the Day

Because man does not understand God's ways or know His Word, he does many things that are foolish and sinful. When he begins to suffer the natural consequences of his actions, he tends to blame God. As we have seen, the Bible teaches that a man reaps what he sows. "Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting" (Galatians 6:7). When we break God's commandments, we suffer the consequences of our sins.

Not all people break the laws of God willfully; some people break them ignorantly. God's laws are given to us for our good so that we might live a good life. If we break them, we are the ones who are hurt. This applies not only to people who do not know God but to God's children as well. One of the tactics of the devil is to feed us the lie that God is so angry with us when we sin that He punishes us with evil things. If Satan can get us to believe this, we will blame things on God that are not His fault. Most of our troubles are the result of our sins or the sins of others. This is the reason Jesus died for us - to save us from our sins. When we receive Him into our hearts, He can repair the damage done by sin, whoever it is, and enable us to overcome evil with good. Jesus came to redeem us and to help us become overcomers in this life.

"Thine own wickedness shall correct thee, and thy backslidings shall reprove thee: know therefore and see that it is an evil thing and bitter, that thou hast forsaken the LORD thy God, and that my fear is not in thee, saith the LORD GOD of hosts" (Jeremiah 2:19 and Job 37:23). Also Hosea 7:2 says, "And they consider not in their hearts that I remember all their wickedness: now their doings have beset them about; they are before my face."

God is for us, not against us. Romans 8:31-32 says, "What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us? He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?" Certainly, we can learn things by going through adverse circumstances, but many such circumstances could be avoided if we took the time to learn God's Word. If we are committed totally to God, we will want to study His Word to know His ways. If we are good students, we can escape many snares of the devil designed to destroy us. We are responsible for learning God's ways. Bibles are available in most countries, especially in America. Where they are available, we should be ashamed if we are not reading God's Word and learning His ways. "My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because thou hast rejected knowledge, I will also reject thee" (Hosea 4:6).

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, I thank you for Your love and patience toward me. Lord, help me to trust You when I do not see an answer to my prayers right away. I want to take the time to come before You and find out if there is a reason for my delayed answer. Perhaps it is a "God delay" instead of the enemy delaying it. Give me Your knowledge and wisdom as to what You want me to do in the matters I face in this life. Lord, help me not to make hasty decisions that would not only wrongly affect my life, but others as well. Help me to be more faithful in prayer. I ask this in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. From: Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ,  gatekeeperwatchman.org Monday, June 17, 2024, Jacksonville, Florida., USA. Founder and Administrator of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups: Https://gatekeeperwatchman.org/post/751889961062744064/daily-devotionals-for-may-30-2024-proverbs-gods? X/Twitter ... @ParkermillerQ   #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO