#i finished chapter 4 but its just so hard finding the time to write 😭😭😭

[99probalos]

rewatched gorilla interrupted at last. best movie ever made of all time on cod no squidding for eel no carp

[timelesslords]

fic writer twenty questions!!!

I got tagged by the beautiful lovely gorgeous @tapemonkey21 who has written some of my fav star wars fics to date and who got me on the cody/obi-wan/satine train without which my current wip would not exist <333

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

55!

2. What's your AO3 word count?

812,034 😵‍💫

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Rn only star wars with Ahsoka in it, but I've written for TLOU and PJO too!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Under Freezing Stars

have my back, yeah, every day

Violent Heart

invisible string

For Real This Time

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yesssss!!! I honestly love responding to comments just as much as reading them. I like chatting with people and hearing their thoughts and their theories and what they want to happen next!! I think it makes it more fun for everyone but especially for me hehe

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

and the waves come crashing down for sure. I'm really not an angsty ending kind of person except with that fic lol

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Roman Holiday has the cheesiest mushiest most ridiculous holiday fluff ending ever <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

haha yea 😭 messed up some niche details in my star wars fic and got absolutely lambasted in the comments lmao i never wanted to post sw again 😭 but then i realized i just needed to find the gay people and it all worked out lol

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I would say I'm retired from smut writing lmao 😭 but idk maybe something will change. i am not typing out the gory details of everything ive written on here I have no desire to get cancelled again

10. Do you write cross overs? What's the craziest one you've written?

No but I do write AU fusions <3 my favorite stupid insane one was a James Potter/Lily Evans Batman universe fusion fic it lowkey ate but I had to hide it because I was embarrassed at the quality and the very just-took-sociology-101 level of social commentary 😭

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so???? back in the day maybe lol

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but I have had a few podfics of my fics made and that is my absolute most favorite thing ever ever 🥹

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes with my wonderful beautiful brilliant best friend forever who shares half of my brain @captain-jackson

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

all-time...,, whew. rn it's definitely Codywan. Idk if I have an all-time transcendent one that I always come back to tbh. I'm really more into platonic relationship dynamics than ships tbh

15. What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever wilI?

God, I have one re-writing the Zygerria arc where Ahsoka sneaks onto the mission instead of being incorporated into it that i want to finish SO BAD. when the ties that bind is done I'm really going to hammer it out because I do love it but its kind of a monster.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm good with dialogue and characterization and, on occasion, plot twists.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I hate writing filler. I can't do it for the life of me, which means I also tend to have pretty poor pacing. im also bad at ending scenes which is why many times my chapters will end with my characters falling asleep 😭

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

jesus fucking christ it's so hard. doing it for Mando'a is hard and it's not even a real language. Usually I just go for the itallics but sometimes it's nice to have the immersion (which only works if you do it perfectly lol)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I did not stake out the username "timelesslords" back in 2013 for the answer to this question to NOT be Doctor Who

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

cheating and doing my fav from my three main fandoms:

Under Freezing Stars because it was the first long piece of fiction I ever finished, and without it I would not have made three of my best friends in the whole world so its very special and important to me

if you never bleed you're never gonna grow is one where I feel like I did something interesting and innovative with form and perspective and I'm really proud of it. I feel like a lot of times as a fic writer you can feel like what you're doing is repetitive and this one felt really unique to me!

The Ties That Bind is still a WIP but I honestly really love it and have been loving the process of writing it a lot. it's the first WIP I started posting without having at least 75% of the fic completed and it's been really interesting to see what a different process it is pre-writing vs writing as you go! Also, I love the plot contrivance that makes up the premise, I love working out all the little butterfly effects of that decision, I love making it gay and poly and I love writing a million different perspectives!!!

this was so super fun I miss doing tag games like this hehe :3 low pressure tags @bbyannabeth @lena-hills @bookishjules @captain-jackson & anyone else who wants to consider urself tagged by me :3

[heatherthetiredwriter]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @autumnwoodsdreamer <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently just one! I've got two others sitting around in drafts but I've not published them

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

8,742

3. What fandoms do you write for?

My one fic I've published is a crossover for three fandoms, Big Hero 6, Tangled: the Series, and Tales of Arcadia: 3 Below. So I guess I write for those three. And my other two unpublished fics are for Frozen and How to Train Your Dragon. DC as well kinda.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Well I've only got one so the list is just

A Game of Keep Away

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I love comments and try to respond to them as soon as I get them! They make me so happy! Though... I do have a problem with... comments.... that I know come from a specific person being on multiple accounts that I try not to engage with too much.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

So A Game of Keep Away is again the only one I've published and its got a LOT of angst and much more to come-- but my unpublished Frozen fanfic probably has the angstiest ending of them all

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

It's not really spoilers, especially since I haven't written it all yet, but A Game of Keep Away will have a happy ending! My unpublished, unfinished httyd fic probably has the happiest ending, but that fic is like never ending I swear---

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Never hate, which I'm glad for. I've had grammar police. But I don't mind them cos "dang it, how didn't I catch that?" My problem, again is mostly with the one specific person who comes and finds my fic no matter where I post it and comes at it with this energy that I do not enjoy. I am glad this person likes my fic but my goodness I don't need that energy in my space when I'm trying to write 😭

9. Do you write smut?

Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes! I already mentioned my only published fic right now is a crossover! I love writing crossovers!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I've had so many things stolen off of Wattpad. So. Many. Stories. Oh my goodness.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I am currently co-writing a fic with my boyfriend and our other friend, its called The Last Bat and I am just remembering its also on AO3 I think and that means some of my answers might be incorrect bc I didn't take into account that fic but I don't care cos its not on my account its on his

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

How could you ask me to choose between my favorites like that??? But it might have to be one from How to Train Your Dragon? It was the first thing I really got into. I remember shipping Hiccup and Astrid so hard. And Heather and Fishlegs as well. So maybe one of those two.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My httyd fic... It's too big of a fic to actually write I'm pretty sure. I might could make it smaller, but I'm certain it would take years to actually write out. I think currently it sits at seventy-five chapters? or something like that? But those were twelve year old me chapters and so I would want to re-write them and make them better.... and then I'd have to continue the story.... Like in my head, I'm fond of the story because it was my first ever fic, and because it was a way I connected with my now dead great-grandmother when she lived so far away from me (yes, I did get my great-grandma to sign up for a wattpad account when I was 12), but I don't know if I have the stamina to keep that up again. Plus this was the fic that kept getting stolen. I'm sure its floating around the internet somewhere, despite the fact that I took it down from all my platforms.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I'm really good at getting into a characters head. And I'd like to agree. Once I'm in, I know their everything. What they eat for breakfast. What color their socks are. How they'd react to the stupid trolley problem. So I never have any problems showing how a character reacts to something. How it makes them feel.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I definitely could be more descriptive. I've noticed I've only ever been descriptive with a character once and that was just because I was so into her head and I knew that instead of focusing on the dangerous missions she was on, realistically she'd be like "Oh I wonder what kind of fertilizer they are using for their poppies? They are beautiful!" So since then I've been trying to paint a visual picture better. Something that I am finding to help is figuring out my setting beforehand and like mixing ambiance players to give the right vibes. Then it tends to come easier. But its something I need to work on for sure.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

In the wise words of @autumnwoodsdreamer "One word: italicise." But also yeah I'll mix in other words. I've done a lot of dragonese for different httyd things. Elvish too.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

How to Train Your Dragon

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Its not published anymore, it didn't survive my personal purge, but it was a crossover between httyd and the hobbit movies. One of my ocs antagonists from my httyd fic got teleported into the hobbit movies and fell in love with Kili. Who then of course dies at the end of the movie and she steals his body and does the whole viking burning boat funeral to try and send him to Valhalla. And then she comes back to her world and the main fic and is like "Imma be a better person so I can be with Kili in the afterlife :)" It was so cringe, but I was free and innocent and thought it was the coolest thing ever and I wrote like I was the most talented person in the world and honestly 12 year old Heather was onto something bc I'd like half of her confidence

No pressure tagging: @susanshinning @rachelbethhines shooot im trying to think of people I know that post on ao3........ if you post on ao3 then please feel free to join!!!!!

[stormwife-writes]

too shy to say this off anon lol but I just wanted to say reading your fic inspired me to start writing my own (never even written a fic in my life but the gale brainrot is powerful). 🥹 As someone who hasn't written in a long long time, thank you for the motivation to go for it! and if you have any writing tips I would love to hear them. Have a wonderful day!

😭 I’m SO happy to hear the fic has been an inspiration to get (back) into writing!! It brings me a ton of joy to hear it especially since this story was the reboot of my writing journey too and I figured out a lot as I went along - and I’m sure you will too 💜

As for writing tips, gosh 🥹 Hooo boy so as a longfic writer I’m not great at being brief!! but a few high-level thoughts:

Reading a LOT - of the kind of works you would like to write. Whether it’s epic fantasy, erotica, screenplays (esp for dialogue), whatever, consuming a ton of those works and studying how the authors are executing plot, characters, dialogue, etc. Especially important for skills you’re looking to develop - for example, for me atm that’s illustrating rather than introspecting, breaking out of linear timelines, and distinct character voices, but it could be anything!

Writing a LOT - the fic was the first big story I ever wrote and I posted as I went, and when I went back to edit Act 1 at the end of that 8-month process I was shocked by how much I had developed (and how much editing Acts 1 & 2 needed, lol - which I’m almost finished with now!). So yep just getting hands to keyboard and figuring it out as you go along is the way, and best of all you get stories out of it - at the beginning the quality and audience doesn’t matter as much as just doing it 😊

“Go where it’s hot” - A writer I know gave me this advice once when I asked “how do I know when to switch from outlining to writing prose?”, and I’ve found it hugely helpful in making any sort of decisions about what to work on. Writing is for you first & foremost, and in my experience the more excited you are the better the work!

Read up on theory - I only started reading and taking courses about writing halfway through the fic, which was…. uh, a little late 😂 The resources I’ve found most helpful are: 1) On Writing by Stephen King, 2) Brandon Sanderson’s writing class on YouTube, 3) Truth Is the Arrow, Mercy Is the Bow by Steve Almond, and 4) Steering the Craft by Ursula K LeGuin. And if you or others find any other great writing resources on your journeys please send ‘em my way because I’m always learning!

As a bonus I’d thrown in: Engage - this one is hard for me tbh because I too am shy! I literally just shared my tumblr on Chapter 105 of the fic 😂 and am slowly trying to comment more on AO3 and engage more in internet spaces. But it’s really helpful to talk to people about writing and share your work, whether it’s IRL friends or internet friends or writing groups. Definitely one I’m still working on!! In that spirit always feel free to ping me here for any other writing qs or if you need a beta reader for your first piece!

Good luck with the writing, I’m super excited for you & anyone else starting on this journey 👏🏻 and hope to see your Gale brain rot make its way to AO3 soon 😁 💜

[twice-inamillion]

Good to hear that TM, real life is more important, stories can wait. Keep up to your own pace, thats where good stories come from 😌

I have few in mind.

3mix member, it would be so good with Jihyo mommy vibe (this we've seen alot as usual), nayeon cute bunny face as you facefucked her to train for her easily gagging habits on OC huge cock and tsundere jeongyeon who cant be true to herself and succumb slowly to OC cock but still act like she didnt care up until orgasm. Maybe later in the stories coz our bunny and jeongies cant seems to make initiatives with OC yet. The scenario would be three twice vocalists were recording new song in recording studio and OC were the producer and give them rewards for their good work.

Our very best J-line (i like this the most 😗), who can resist Mina big ass when OC did anal to her, Momo huge milky white titties that give the perfect boobjob and let OC did whatever he wants to try (maybe new position that havent been tried?) and Sana flirtatious face and dirty talking that turned everyone on when the rest of members being thrusted hard. Also Sana would be very good at and enjoy rough sex where Sana will be kneeling on bedside while OC taking her from behind standing position thrusting hard, reaching for her forearms and pull backwards causing her to arch her back with her tits juggling. But then Sana is pregnant now 😭 and have to wait 9months for it. Scenario would be in their dorm where only 4 of them is home due to their schedules and OC wanted to have 'Japanese cuisines'. Btw please let OC order a king size bed somewhere in later story line 😅

The remaining is none other than our School Meal Club. First our personal OC cum dump, Chaeyoung who OC will used her like no tomorrow until she passed out (maybe second round will be her unconscious while OC thrust her very roughly and wake up just 15seconds before orgasm and moan/scream until the neighbours knock on the door asking what happened), our dubu with her perfect hips as OC take her doggy style and mould his hand onto her hips while spanking occasionally with redness on her ass and im dying to know how red of her face when shes flushing hard when orgasm incoming and finally our very own maknae, Tzuyu. Since she havent have sex yet in the stories, maybe this will be her vanilla period where she prefer soft sex after her very first time and also heavy daddy kink asking OC to take care of her and caressing her head while thrusting in a long and sensual pace. After seeing OC use Chaeyoung like an unleashed kraken, she wanted to try it in their second round but OC tries his best to control himself while pleasures her with rough sex. The scenario fits perfectly in livimg room on the couches, table or on the carpet where tzuyu always wanted to have foursome after accidently came across the porn to train herself before her very first time with OC and find her first roommates (i think tzuyu sleeps in same room with chaeyoung and dahyun when debuting)

Sorry for long post, i just realise its getting longer when i get to last one, of course as usual this is just opinion, write however how u see fits hahaha, if u ever written it, please make it spicier and hotter than this 😆. I still have alot in mind maybe tomorrow as i need to finished up my thesis writing.

-AvidTwiceReader-

These are very good suggestions that I will take into consideration. I think I might use one for these upcoming chapters.

[xenomorphee3]

Will you consider writing a new Quartich story about a new OC from a different clan or will this really be the end 🥲😭

Wow okay this question made me so sad when posed like that! So bear 🐻 with my emotional reply.

Almost a year ago, I finished A New Mission: Ash to Fire having started it in January 2023 and completing it in June. It took about 5.5 months to finish that nearly 400,000 word longfic. But I loved this world and the characters and felt there was more story to tell. And so I started A New Mission: Happiness is Simple in August 2023 having posted the first chapter on September 1st and proceeded at a much slower pace than its predecessor. But it too is coming to a close. I anticipate late June, not too far from a year after ANMAF finished which is a funny coincidence.

I love my story and my OCs so much. My life has been dedicated to them for a fascinatingly long time considering the random urge to just start this massive saga in the wake of my many Avatar 2 theater viewings and borderline obsession. I was a sleeper Avatar fan since the first came out and boy did the vindication of the second's success feel sweet. I was ready to ride the Avatar wave and I certainly did 🌊 But writing these longfics was an unexpected way to ride it.

To be honest, I don't know if I'd write more stories. A big part of me—and I'll be sincere in saying this—wishes I didn't start A New Mission at all. Not because I don't love it, but because I do. Too much. When all is said and done, my series will be about 740,000 words. All written in about a year and a half. That is... a remarkable feat, shocking even to myself. It was a result of the longest actively cultivated dedication and hyperfocus I've ever had. To keep this up, I have been purposefully strained from all my hobbies and even other movies and shows to not get in the way of my "Avatar high". My stories together are over 10 times bigger than my dissertation which I finished while writing the sequel. Geez.

My sadness over starting these stories primarily stems from how as soon as Avatar 3 comes out, the void that these 740,000 words fill for myself, Avatar readers, Quaritch, and recom fans is officially filled. And I hate, despite the frothing at the mouth excitement I have for Avatar 3, how sad that makes me. Sure some people here and there will still find my stories, but I don't see how there will be much interest and demand given the third film and new canon. I accept that, even for my own mind, but it still saddens me deeply. At least my stories will be able to breathe on their own for about a year and a half before Avatar 3 releases.

I just wish to close this interesting, complex, and fulfilling chapter of my life. So happy to have done it with such a dedicated cabal of amazing readers. Everyone has been so kind and supportive and your enjoyment has kept the fire going 🔥. As a thank you, I hope you can all tell that I've been desperate to keep up the quality of each chapter. I never want to give the impression of losing interesting or untidily wrapping it up. I am as dedicated to the closing of this fic as you all are to read it.

I won't say I'll *never* write again. There will be a four year gap between Avatar 3 and 4 and I think Quaritch is going to do some cool stuff in A3. Maybe I'll be inspired again. But damn I really do love Zu and her and Quaritch’s little made-up family. It would be hard to let them go.

[peyton-warren]

My favorite fic of yours Although I fell in l've with your writing with "The Hidden Sun" this has to be "Blinded By The Fog" I just love all the characters so much!

My favorite chapter in my favorite fic of yours Chapter 4 of Blinded By The Fog. I re-read this so many times. Always finding all these little scenes that melt my heart. And then that last little words “Ni-night, baby.”  It always breaks me and I'm sobbing like a baby 😭

A fic I haven't read yet from you, but I want to Stick handling series. It's sitting in my drafts for a long time and I swear I will get to it, promised

What made me the most emotional after reading

Already mentioned it, but it is just so, so heartbreaking!

“Ni-night, baby.” 

What I like the most about your writing

Your characters are so full of life, they have their own personality, their flaws, they are loveable. Also, you get emotions out of me with your work, it's just wonderful!

A fic i'm excited for you updating/posting

Well, it's no secret that I hope to see an update on Blinded By The Fog...

Something I wish/hope you write

Anything that makes you happy ad comfortable!

If i've ever shared/talked about your fic to someone else

Yes, I did! Because you need to be praised! You're such a talent!

A fic I didn't expect to like so much

Arresting and arrested - I send you this ask but I didn't think to get THAT! And damn, it was so much better than everything I had expected. This man hanging from the Ceiling is plastered into my mind!

My dear @peyton-warren You have an alley in me and I will always do my best to support you. I know you're having a hard time. Just know that there are people who really love what you create! Because I do! 🥰

Found this in my inbox when i got a new ask tonight. This has been sitting there entirely too long . First of all thank you for your kind words and support. You know how crappy of a day I had today, and how many tears I shed. And this ask brought more tears to my eyes but for good reasons!

Your Favorite Fic of mine: I didn't know you started out with Hidden Sun, I am glad you liked that one. its one of my first here on tumblr and that first chapter holds a special place in my heart. I know how much you love Blinded by the Fog, you are my #1 cheerleader on that one, and I really appreciate as I try to get more of it out.

Your Favorite Chapter of a Fic of Mine: Chapter 4 of Blinded hits me more and more every time I reread it. And once I wrote your ask about the behind the scenes of how Sy was feeling, it is now a whole other level. I didn't intend for him to have so much feeling in that chapter, but man he breaks my heart too.

Something of mine you haven't read yet- I know that one is no longer true because you were able to help me brainstorm Chapter 8!

Whay you like most about my writing: Thank you hon. I honestly just write what the characters tell me to write, and I dont intentionally try to draw out emotions. I do love writing, and I love telling a good story. I am glad it comes across in the writing.

Writing you are looking forward to me writing/posting: It is no surprise at all you want me to post the next chapter of Blinded. And I appreciate your patience as I work through my own stuff as i try to get past this writer's block. And trust me, you will probably be the first person to know I when i finish that chapter.

something you wish I'd write: make me cry why don't you, Nina.

You telling others about my work: I don't think anyone has shared my work as much as you have, ever. I appreciate all of your support, and you telling others about my writing. It means so so much to me, more than you could ever know.

The fic that you were surprised by: I think that fic surprised many people, especially me. your prompt threw that scene in my head and I just wrote it down verbadum as I saw it in my brain. I need to get back to that. Tell the rest of the story that's in my head.

Again, Nina, I just I have no words for your support and how much it means to me. I keep saying thank you, and telling you it means the world to me, but even that does not cover how much you mean to me. Thank you, my friend from the bottom of my heart. You are a such a rare treasure and i value you so. Whether we are talking dogs, hairy titties, or fic, I always love seeing you pop up in my asks, dms and feed. Thank you for being you.

[borathae]

hey sibi! Ive been a silent reader for a few good months. I recently saw an obssesion on your blog about one of the SA characters, I think it was tae??? but I am quite not sure. Anyways, since I kept seeing posts of SA, I kept it in mind and looked in your masterlist. I realized that SA stood for Sanguis Alpha, and added it to my reading list. I finally had the urge and time to read it, and when I tell you that I read this book in 2 days(including today). Its a bit crazy cuz I was so hooked I kind of procrastinated other stuff just to read SA. This book is so so good, your writing is immaculate and the way the characters developed and grew. UGH It’s just so amazing. The way the reader cant help but fully immerse themselves in the story. Its just so GOOD. I genuinely have not felt so strongly for a book in a while. While reading SA, I felt so many emotions. Sadness, happiness, hornyness🫣🫣, shyness, stomach butterflies, and so many more emotions. I just really wanna praise you for the book and your mind is genuinely genius. I have a question though, I just finished reading the last chapter and saw that in the comments you talked of a sequel. You said the sequel would involve yoonkook coming back home after a bit and saying they havent found namjoon, tae and oc join them on the journey to find namjoon as they go through different countries, poly relationship between the 4, working through old grudges, trying to stay together even though life is hard, hobi and jin making an appereance and deeper emma storyline. So, is this sequel still in the talks? or has it been scratched and SA universe is truly done?

Even if the sequel has been scratched off I stil love the book and appreciate SA so much. I would love the sequel to be written since it seriously just sounds SOO good but it is your choice! . Again, thank you so much for writing Sanguis Alpha and making me feel so many emotions that I havent felt in quite awhile. Not only that, but the book actually taught me some valuable lessons and reminded me of some stuff, so thank you for that as well.

So sorry for the long message, I did not mean to write such a long message but it kind of just happened 😅😅😅

Love you! Hope you have an amazing day or night and I hope you are doing okay 💕.

I love you so much :( thank you so much for this lovely message. Gosh, it truly means the world to me 🥺😭

I also have good news for you! I finished the second book last week and I want to start editing it once I feel better again. Look forward to it in early 2023 💜

[captainaikus]

BELLE LOVE YOURE BACK!!!!!!!!! I've missed you so much 😭😭😭!!!! I'm so sorry to hear that you're sick though 😖😖. That seriously sucks, but I hope you feel better soon!!! Also I have a confession to make. I know I said I was working on blue lock drabbles. But like. The TR season 2 opening just dropped. I am not the same woman I was 1 hour ago. Episode 13 of bllk will probably kick-start my inspiration for the writing again (hopefully) but I'm hitting a block atm and all I can think abt is TR right now 💀💀. I have actually been so productive this winter break that it's insane. Cleaning, cooking, organizing, writing, etc. It's hard to believe I was the same person as last year tbh. I'm a hoarder and a sentimental sap so I never throw anything away 💀🥲. BUT I got rid of so much unnecessary stuff yesterday and I'm actually kind of proud of myself. I've been meaning to go to the gym again, but finding the motivation is hard, especially in the early morning when I'm drowsy and tired. I know it's not an excuse and I plan on going to bed early tomorrow so I can wake up without feeling tired 😤😤. Wish me luck 🥹🤞🏼!!! Also also. I have currently been listening to the new opening on loop since I heard it came out don't judge me and I'm pretty sure I have the entire visuals and lyrics matched up inside my head atp where I can hear it and know which character is on screen 💀💀💀. It's the same with the season 1 episodes again no judging. Yes I'm normal abt this 😌😌. Anyways ✨. Idk if you've seen my posts, but I have been freaking out abt the new opening since this morning adjkhgggkjggfdhjhg. I am so excited about next week. You are gonna be sick of me once the first episode drops I'm calling it now 😭😭💀. Anyways onto the actual important stuff. How was your vacation and holiday?? Good I hope?? How's the move to a03 coming along?? Again, I hope you feel better soon (Oliver sends his love from Italy ❤️❤️❤️)!!! Make sure not to overwork yourself and take care of yourself and rest okay love?? I really have missed you tho 🥹❤️. *sending all the virtual hugs and blankets and warm soup to you*

- ✨ anon

YES! I have returned !! I missed you too T.T , ahh its good to be back. ps. not only have i managed to fall sick... I uh... I twisted my ankle last night when I was celebrating new years. There was so much that happened last night, the dancing, hanging out with my roommates and last but not least. there were a lot of pretty boys at the club; but honestly, they were strutting around the place like some proud peacock and were intimidated by my height (yeah i was the tallest one last night with my three inched heels) and my calves are killing me rn; but totally worth it ✨ I SAW THE NEW TR OPENING! Pretty sure the fans are gonna crash the website; i wouldn't be surprised honestly- I am so looking forward to the new eps !! I read the latest chapter of bllk and... *sobbing cause no Oliver* Anyway, getting back to Tr; I am excited for the new season !! And i wanna see more of bonten and the shiba brothers arc, now i'm thinking if they're gonna introduce Nahoya and the whole baby of the family thing (cause the way i cooed when I was reading the manga) Girl. I saw you posted about Chainsawman !! And during vacay, we were passing by a bookstore... I uh... I ended up buying vol 4 with Aki as the cover. (i love it sm and i'm gonna treasure it even if I haven't reached that part yet) - the look i got cause the amount of profanities in there on opening one of the pages 😭 Vacay was fun, spent some time in the countryside and got a hold of new experiences that inspired me to re-write ruined rome (a project that i had started for Rin earlier on my blog) there was a cute guy on the bus who was watching rising shield hero i think? and i was busy watching one punch man cause i didn't get time to finish it, *sad cause i shoulda asked for his @ but i was really shy to talk to him and kinda disoriented cause of no sleep*

As for the move to ao3; I released the new chapter of Ocean hues and I'm working on a spotify playlist that you guys can play it when you read the series; hopefully you guys will enjoy it <3 speaking a bit and giving spoilers for the series; i included some of my dreams with Oliver (yes i am a simp and idc) And i have my oneshots saved in my draft, that will be getting posted as well... ao3 is getting fun for me cause i figured a way on using dividers and pictures. Not to mention even if ao3 does seem complicated its actually pretty easy to get by and i'm getting obsessed with alice in borderland- THE NEW SEASON IS FINALLY OUT! so i'm gonna be completing that and stone ocean's new eps (yes me likes JJBA. *likes jonathan, joseph and Jotaro*) And no bb ♡ i like seeing your rants on my dash and also. I. squealed at your Oliver drabble. Like i was walking around, stood for coffee before my flight at some 1 o clock in the morning and i saw this. And my gah- the way i was staring into my phone, I had a jolly good christmas and an early new year 😭 *busy working on a list of yandere wips and thinking the title to give my work*

*sending back hugs and wuv along with Bachira*

[rose-tinted-juls]

I'M SCREAMING OMG i should be packing rn bc i move into my new rent for uni today, instead what was i doing? reading this bc i couldn't stop thinking about a house a home and wanted to know what happens next. do i have to rush impossibly now with the packing? yes. do i regret choosing to read where do we go instead? 100% no.

1. THE PARALLELS!!!! i was honestly squealing after reading the first line and the last but let's talk about that later shall we so yeah, the "carlos sainz is a ..." sentences straight on killed me. from the very first second.

2. "charles's eyes are still bright, elated you had decidd to come alongside him. all he had to do now was fix every other mistake spanning over twelve months."

3. "however, his grasp, like the entirely of his actions over the past twenty-four hours, was different. charles' thumb gently stroked over your knuckle, his fingers gently resting against yours instead of the firm grip he usually held for the sake of actions. he'd taken a moment to look at you before entering the building, something he'd never done in the past, simply having dragged you into whatever location instead. it was as if his eyes told you a million things; that he had your back and the moment you wanted to leave, he was right behind you."

4. this conversation: "i didn't realise you'd be here, mariposa. come to make sure your husband behaves?" - "no. i came to see how his teammate is behaving. i'm a married woman, carlos." - *your marital status doesn't change the way i feel for you." I'M DEAD I'M SCREAMING I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH

5. "he tries to keep his breathing calm, your presense practically overpowering him." oh to be that woman who has that effect on carlos sainz jr himself.

6. "when you take a sip of the rich red, you're blissfully unaware of your husband's eyes; the ones which are never attached to you, but in that moment, don't want to focus on anything else." AHHHHH honestly jay you're killing me over here

7. also, "nobody misses the way he purposely sits between yourself and his teammate, fingers interlocked into yours tightly, the occasional kiss on the temple of your head. you were his wife, after all." EXCUSE ME. i don't even know why am i crying at this so hard i just do

8. "it didn't stop him from gently rubbing a makeup wipe over your features, knowing you'd regret your lack of attention to appearance in the morning." DOMESTIC CHARLES 😭😭 also this is finally something so husband of him why are you so late with this charles why couldn't you be like this a year ago 😭

9. "you can'thelp but hesitate when you pull back from his face, lingering within mere millimeters of his lips for a long moment; you could just lean forward, press your lips to his and give into all those nights you had dreamed of. but this wasn't a dream; this was your husband whom you needed to fix a relationship with first." SHE STRONG omg i could never be her, half broken relationship or not i would kiss charles leclerc no matter what.

10. CHARLES AND HER LITTLE SISTER 😭😭 and how she reminds him of baby arthur 😭 i'm not okay rn

11. "undeniably, carlos sainz looks good in any situation." *george russell voice* FACT. carlos is honestly unreal by how good he always looks.

12. again, the beginning and end of "carlos sainz is a best friend" and "carlos sainz is your best friend" ughh *chefs kiss* breathtaking writing once more

13. i FEAR that the photo carlos took of her sleeping will come back somehow and it will cause me pain i'm AFRAID

14. so back to the parallels. FINISHING AGAIN WITH A CONFESSING TEXT!!!! AND THIS TIME IT'S CHARLES ADMITTING TO BE IN LOVE WITH HER. I'M DECEASED AND IN HEAVEN FOR SURE. charles babe why are you so late and make things so much more complicated </3

another gorgeous chapter by the queen herself that i couldn't help but read asap. now i just have to find time to read the third part and my life will be complete. new fave c2 fic? easily. i ADORE everything about this fic and about its precious writer. there are no words that could properly express how much i love you, @forteafy <333

Where Do We Go? | CL16 & CS55

Summary: Charles will do anything to fix his marriage with you, Carlos will do anything to prove you're worth more. The question is where do you go between the two men fighting for your affection?

Word Count: 9.7k

Warnings: angst, a lotta angst, cheating, light smut, character death.

Note: You all really wanted a Part 2 to this one, and of course, I wanted to deliver! This is a little bit more angsty, we’re trying to save a relationship, after all. Or…are we? Also, a massive thank you to @formulaforza for proof-reading this for me and pulling me up on my addiction to italics; my brain is literally jelly right now. Enjoy, everybody!

You can read part 1, ‘A House, A Home,’ HERE!

Carlos Sainz is a best friend. 

Best friends, however, do not text a love confession to one another in the hours of a rising sun, especially not when their declaration is to a woman who is wrapped up in the arms of her husband. 

The confession had run cold through your veins; if it hadn’t been for the sheer exhaustion taking over your body from the events of the past 48 hours, you were certain you would have been up the entire night, contemplating the words he had sent to you. He wasn’t drunk; far from it, the man had driven you down the dusky streets to your home mere hours before. Was he lonely? Did he feel sorry for you? More importantly, did he mean those precious words that had lit up your screen?

Eventually, the desire for sleep, for the warmth of your estranged husband’s chest pillowing your back overtakes your body. You hadn’t slept in a bed with him since the last day of your supposed honeymoon; even then, you had slept with an infinite gap between the two of you, cuddling instead into a pillow, rageful tears in your eyes at the realization that this was now your life. 

This was entirely different. Charles pressed into you as if holding you together; his warm breath danced across the nape of your neck, a hand pressed into your stomach, cradling you between the warm blankets and soft cushions you had picked out when decorating your room. You didn’t rouse during the night, the two before had been filled with tears, constantly awakening to call for your mother as if you were a child again, the harsh realization that she wasn’t around anymore. 

When you did wake, the bed was empty. 

You had subconsciously turned in the blankets when you arose, expecting to see the figure of your husband next to you. The pillow was still rumpled, his glasses disappeared from the nightstand, every single trace of him had seemed to evaporate. Clearly, one night next to you had been a big enough mistake in his eyes. 

Instead, your attention turns towards your phone. Silently, you remove the device from its charger, the homescreen being flooded with sympathetic messages and photographs of you arriving at your father’s home. Luckily, no photographs of Carlos picking you up himself had been released; that would have caused a frenzy which wasn’t desired on either side. 

However, his last text to you that evening before still stayed burned into your screen. In curiosity, you’d once again opened the text thread, seeing th

e words stand strong, his confession to his feelings presents for your eyes. He had laid it out so clearly, Carlos Sainz was in love with you. 

But, were you in love with him? You loved your family; you loved the smell of fresh candles. You adored the sounds of the fastest cars in the world racing around a track whilst you watched with ease. Did you categorize your best friend into the love you so carefully crafted? Was the desire you felt for contact solely directed towards him? 

You never had time to answer yourself that morning. Your subconscious state recognised the sound of footsteps; it was most likely Charles, on his way to his own room for some private time. Maybe he’d have his mistress with him, having snuck out of bed early that morning to possibly go and pick her up himself. 

The footsteps get louder, the door to your room opens, much to your confusion. In the doorway, stands your husband. You’ve never seen him like this; a soft smile, hair pushed back by a bandana, glasses resting on the bridge of his small nose. He’s dressed in a soft, grey jumper and matching tracksuit bottoms, fluffy socks warming his feet. In one arm, he cradles a washing bag. Upon closer inspection, you see that it’s your washing from the case you had lugged in the night before, ironed and folded. In his other hand, he holds a steaming mug of tea. 

He looks beautiful like this, almost ethereal. He looks domestic. 

“Good morning.” He speaks gently, as if any sudden sound would hurt you. You looked…so precious, covered in blankets, your pajamas covering your modesty. “I’m sorry I had to leave early. I went to get your washing done and…pick up some tea.” He offers, holding up the bag of washing in confirmation. Charles offers you a smile as walks into the room, placing the pile of clothing on your vanity. Cradling the mug of hot tea in his hand, he walks back over to where you’re now sat up, surrounded by soft furnishings, offering you the drink which you gladly accept. 

It's a mediocre cup of tea at best; the teabag hasn’t diluted properly, there’s too little milk and too much sugar. Yet, the fact he had made the drink himself caused your heart to soften, despite the past twelve months of actions. You offer him a soft ‘thank you,’ as the drink touches your lips. You’re half-expecting him to stand up and leave immediately. Instead, Charles sits himself down on the edge of the bed, making certain he doesn’t sit on your outstretched legs. 

There’s a moment of bliss; you’re somewhat enjoying the drink cradled in your hands, your husband’s eyes trained on your movements. At one moment, he reaches out his hand towards your face. You flinch, not too sure on what was happening, before his palm simply tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You can’t bring your own eye gaze to meet him, simply focusing on the hot drink in your hand. You can’t help but notice the way his shoulders fall, clearly not satisfied with the lack of eye-contact. 

You can’t help it; it’s as if Charles believes with one night wrapped in his arms would solve the past twelve months. You couldn’t forget, not everything that had happened. Your husband had shattered this relationship, well and truly. He could only hope he’d realised in enough time to somehow win you back. Silently, he stands up from the edge of the comforter, walking towards the vanity, beginning to remove the clothing from its basket. It’s… humorous, to see him try and figure out where each category goes. It’s also a stark reminder of how this is ‘your’ room, not ‘our’ room.  

Whilst picking out a rather revealing pair of panties, folding them up and placing them into your draw, he begins to speak again. “What are you doing this afternoon?” His voice is soft, but in the silent room it carries well.

You shrug, before realizing Charles has his back to you. “I’m…nothing much.” You cut yourself off, placing the cup of tea on your bedside table, letting your hands pull up the comforter a little higher. “My father is going to the funeral parlor today.” Are you…having a conversation with your husband? “How about you?”

“I have lunch with the Ferrari team this afternoon. Nothing serious, just a talk on the next part of the season.” He explains. Charles isn’t stupid; he knows despite your father’s input that you constantly worry about his job. Not because you care about his fame, wealth or power; you care about him. 

“I was,” he takes a breath. “I was wondering if you would like to come along.” 

You feel goosebumps prickle across your exposed skin. Charles Leclerc never invited you to his lunches. He’d always have a reason as to why his darling Mrs. Leclerc could never attend their lunch meetings alongside him. The only time you’d ever appear by his side, fingers harshly interlinked and a cold barrier between you both was when your father insisted upon it. He wouldn’t be there today, there was no way he’d be present for any form of meeting for a while now. 

“You don’t have to, of course.” His explanation runs further. “I know it might be too much for you now. I just thought…maybe we could go for a drive after. Carlos and Xavi will be there, you’ll know some of the others from the Paddock…” His voice trails off in your mind. It had started to  the moment he had said the Spaniards name. 

Were you… ready to see Carlos? The day after a text message you had never thought you’d see. Would he acknowledge the message, was it a drunken mistake? Most importantly, did you want him to love you? 

When you come back out of your trail of thoughts, Charles is still talking, carefully hanging one of your summer dresses onto a velvet coat hanger. He takes a moment to brush the fabric under his fingertips, feeling the soft cotton under his touch. He’s so gentle. The touch is almost identical to the way he had held you mere hours ago.

“I’ll come.” You cut him off, watching as his head snaps in your direction, eyes bright underneath his glasses. “Yeah. It will be…nice.” You finish your sentence, trying not to ramble or to float off topic. Charles’ eyes are still bright, elated you had decided to come alongside him. All he had to do now was fix every other mistake spanning over twelve months. 

Carlos Sainz is a red-wine gentleman. 

You’d immediately spotted him the moment you had entered the waterside restaurant; his back was to the entrance, but you’d recognise the powdered blue shirt and dark wisps of hair in any circumstance. You could have just walked over, stood next to him and ordered a drink, but your fingers stayed tightly interlocked with your husbands, a force of habit in public at the current rate. 

However, his grasp, like the entirety of his actions over the past twenty-four hours, was different. Charles’ thumb gently stroked over your knuckle, his fingers gently resting against yours instead of the firm grip he usually held for the sake of actions. He’d taken a moment to look at you before entering the building, something he’d never done in the past, simply having dragged you into whatever location instead. It was as if his eyes told you a million things; that he had your back and the moment you wanted to leave, he was right behind you. 

The moment you’re in the presence of company, the façade still comes alive, the act you had been creating for all this time is still a force of habit. Charles’ hand comes around your waist, greeting the many members of the Scuderia Ferrari team, thanking them for his time and attention to the matter. As always, you tactfully excuse yourself from the side of your husband, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and removing yourself from the crowd. Usually, he wouldn’t so much as flinch from the chaste action, but you don’t miss his eyes longing for you to stay this time. 

Instead, your heel-clad feet press through the tiles of the place, making advancements towards the white marbled-bar. You receive a nod from the friendly-looking gentleman mixing cocktails, a silent signal to let him know when you’re ready. Maybe you stand too close to Carlos, so much so that you can smell his cologne, you can feel his body warmth radiating through that shirt. It doesn’t take long for him to notice your presence, his eyes widening upon the realization that it was, in fact, you–the woman he had confessed his feelings to less than twelve hours ago. 

“I didn’t realize you’d be here, Mariposa,” he taunts, pulling you into his side. You’re grinning immediately, happy to be reunited with your close friend after how he had left you last night, promising he’d be there if you needed anything. “Come to make sure your husband behaves?” 

“No. I came to see how his teammate is behaving.” You let him ponder for a moment, but he realizes, the blush growing from his neck to his cheeks. “I’m a married woman, Carlos.” You remind him but make no attempt to move further away. The idea is completely eradicated when his hand comes out to rest on the small of your back. His eyes are still fixed on you. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not fair to you. He couldn’t care less about his teammate’s position, the way he’s treated you all this time leaves a sour taste on his tongue. 

“Your marital status doesn’t change the way I feel for you.” He thinks back to that moment in the ocean. What on Earth would be happening if he had kissed you at that moment? He could never be certain, but something tells him you’d be his date to this luncheon right now. Sighing, Carlos turns to face you directly, the bottle of wine he had originally come to pick up having been left on the counter. 

“I’m going to ask you something, and you don’t have to respond.” He tries to keep his breathing calm, your presence practically overpowering him. “But...I would love to take you out for a date sometime. A proper date. With flowers and dinner and being able to make you smile.” Your heart is softening by the moment with the Spaniard’s pleads of everything your husband had never given you. “Would you like that?” 

“I would.” You don’t even have to think of your response. “I would like that, Carlos.” At that moment, your estranged husband is the last thought of your mind; instead it’s overpowered by the fantasies of a date with the man standing in front of you. This time, Carlos can’t help the grin on his lips, reaching for the bottle of red wine on the bar. His careful hands carefully unlatch the stopper, the liquid hitting two crystal glasses, one of which he passes to you.

“Well, shall we toast the idea, no?” he holds up the glass delicately, to which you raise your own, grinning at the satisfying sound of clinking crockery. When you take a sip of the rich red, you’re blissfully unaware of your husband’s eyes; the ones which are never attached to you, but in that moment, don’t want to focus on anything else. Nobody misses the way he purposely sits between yourself and his teammate, fingers interlocked into yours tightly, the occasional kiss on the temple of your head. 

You were his wife, after all. 

Carlos Sainz is a brilliant cook. 

The intimacy between yourself and your husband had oddly grown within the past week. To start, his messages became more frequent, checking in when he couldn’t be at the house. Your pantry had stocked overnight, begging for your home cooking whenever he could be there to sample it. Most importantly, the interaction. You’d been hesitant to even let your husband touch you in the beginning. You had kept it simple, a hug before you’d headed off to bed in your room, (sleeping in the same bed as him had been that one-off.) His arms would find their way onto your waist if you were cooking, his fingers would tuck a lock of hair behind your ear when you found yourself engrossed in studies. 

Your husband had been elated when you had spoken to him two days before he was due to leave for Qatar, announcing you would like to attend alongside him; it was also your father’s wishes to attend that race, wanting to signal to his fellow associates that he was okay, that you could pass on a message from your family. Charles’ eyes had glossed over with happiness, taking your hand in his own, pressing a kiss to the back of your knuckles. 

You were ready for your entrance to the Paddock 72 hours later; after arriving in Qatar, you’d barely seen anything from the transport from his jet to the hotel. Your eyes had grown heavy the moment your feet were removed from their shoes, two large beds welcoming you with their soft blankets and heavy pillows. (He’d made sure to give you the sleeping space that you needed.) Charles’ heart had softened when he’d seen you curl into one bed. When he returned from the bathroom, you were out like a light. 

It didn’t stop him from gently rubbing a makeup wipe over your features, knowing you’d regret your lack of attention to appearance in the morning. Hesitantly, he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline, one hand stroking over the back of your head before he returns to unpacking both yours and his suitcase. 

You had been hesitant of attending the Paddock alongside Charles that morning, not because you were worried of the bombarding questions. No, this was the first time you had attended the paddock with a husband who seemed comforted by your presence. His heart felt gentle when he saw you look out of the front windscreen, eyes transfixed on the countless photographers standing by the barriers. Immediately, his hand finds yours, resting atop your thigh, the hot weather pleading for a cooler outfit. 

“You don’t have to do this.” He removes his sunglasses, those ocean eyes finding your own. “You can wait here, or I can have somebody drive you back to the hotel now.” He promises, the worry flickering over his face. Your hand removes itself from his firm grasp, instead reaching forward and resting your hand on his bristled cheek. 

“I’m okay.” You promise him, thumb dancing over his soft cheekbone. He offers you a soft smile, eyelashes fluttering as your face gets closer to his; you have no panic leaning over the console of the hire-car, gently pressing a warm kiss to the cheek your hand wasn’t resting upon. You can’t help but hesitate when you pull back from his face, lingering within mere millimeters of his lips for a long moment; you could just lean forward, press your lips to his and give into all those nights you had dreamed of. But this wasn’t a dream; this was your husband whom you needed to fix a relationship with first. 

Charles isn’t going to lean forward and kiss you himself, not until the signals you are giving him are crystal clear. Instead, he presses his forehead close to yours, tips of your noses gently brushing against one another before he steps out of the car, and you’re quick to follow. 

This time, he doesn’t walk in silence, ignoring your presence. Instead, as the two of you flash your paddock passes towards the security guards, he’s openly commenting on different happenings around Media Day, both of you falling into giggles upon seeing Toto Wolff’s broken arm; he was truly beginning to become an icon at the local emergency room. You’re happy. Subdued in a bubble alongside your husband, hands interlocked as you work your way through the paddock. 

You’ve never experienced such a harsh blow to reality when you see an all-too-familiar figure lurking outside of the Williams Racing building. Her hair is shorter, her skirt is skimpier and a ghastly color. However, she still looks beautiful. She is undoubtedly the woman you’ve fought and lost your husband’s affection from, his mistress. 

Charles seems to clock less than a moment after you do, both bodies freezing upon notifying her presence. You seem to have a quicker reaction time, despite being in the presence of a world-class Formula Driver. Immediately, you rip your grasp from Charles’ hand, showing him no emotion as you step away and into the Ferrari Building. You’re fortunate enough to avoid most of your fathers’ colleges, only once having to stop to give a sympathizing message of your mothers’ passing, the words being used are minute compared to the ache in your heart for her presence. 

When you reach the top of the dark stairs, almost certain you can hear Charles’ voice below you. He’s searching for you now, but instead is overwhelmed by the amount of people in his presence. You’re able to sneak through the makeshift corridor, finding a large number ’55,’ pressed onto the door. You don’t even think, opening the door to a very tanned, very shirtless Carlos Sainz.

He's so… toned. The natural light from the window is reflecting beautifully onto his chest, broader than you’d last seen during your adventures at sea. His shorts hang low on his waist, making no attempt to shift his body despite your appearance. Instead, his dressing is overtaken by his concern for your face, immediately dropping the shirt fisted in his right hand, taking your gentle face in between both of his palms. You didn’t even realize the tears resting on your cheeks, the fear glossed over in your eyes that you’d ever trusted Charles.

Carlos doesn’t need to ask; he saw her on his own entry to the Paddock. Admittedly, he had to double-take; surely Charles wouldn’t have the audacity to bring his mistress to the other side of the world. He didn’t bother to glance in her direction too long, instead greeting the Ferrari team, excusing himself to go and get changed for their upcoming press appearances. In this moment, he’s held you against his bare chest, hushing you gently as one hand threads through your hair. Your mind is overwhelmed, from seeing your husband’s mistress, but from being pressed against his oh-so warm chest. 

You don’t even realize, but your palms are resting on his chest, his skin so soft beneath your touch. Carlos gently hushes you, tilting your head up to face him, still cradled in his grasp. He could so easily reach forward, claim you there and then, but he realizes in that moment, under your soft touch and those doe eyes, you are the one who has claimed him. After a moment, he pulls back, motioning for you to follow him towards the couch, littered in Spanish-themed cushions and the enormous chili plushie you had bought him several months ago. 

You can’t help the slight disappointment when Carlos eventually slips on his Ferrari Polo; however, you are interested when he reaches for his small fridge, pulling out a neat lunchbox, motioning for you to grasp it whilst he reaches for another. Curiosity takes the better of you, gently unclasping the lid of the Tupperware box. A beautiful aroma overtakes your senses, a carefully crafted meal nestled into the lunchbox. The Spaniard can’t help but grin at your reaction; sometimes something as simple as a homemade meal could lift your spirits.

And that’s how you spent the next forty-five minutes, sat on the sofa of Carlos Sainz’s driver room, the man sat on the floor as the two of you exchanged bites of food. There’s one particular moment where you offer him a spoonful of your lunchbox, watching as he arches his torso towards you. 

It’s almost…sensual, the way his lips wrap around the top of the spoon, maintaining sole eye contact as he retracts his mouth from the utensil, letting his tongue trace around his lips for a chase of the taste. He knows what he’s doing; in his mind, all he wants is to show how adored you could be, to show he could be everything your husband never was.

It isn’t until Charles is finally free from the bombarding questions of his sponsors that he finally locates you in Carlos’ room. The man isn’t oblivious; he can see that the two of you have grown undeniably close. He can’t bring himself to say anything on the matter. He knows, in his heart of hearts, he has no right to make any assumptions; he was the one who had spent hours with a mistress, after all. Silently, he opens the door to the driver’s room, your figure perched upon the sofa, a grin plastering your soft features. You looked happy.

You looked like the most beautiful girl he had seen in his life. 

You acknowledge his presence after a few moments, standing up from your place on the sofa, insisting the man tries Carlos’ cooking. It takes less than a few blinks of your eyes for him to submit, taking the spoonful off your utensil, making a comment towards his teammate that he would have to give him some lessons at some point. The man says nothing, simply nodding in a passive agreement. 

There’s a sharp call for Charles after he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. He shoots both you and his teammate an apologetic look before he makes his way down the corridor, gently closing the door behind him as to give you a sense of privacy; the last thing he wanted was to have you plastered all over social media pages when he knew it would purely be used for publicity purposes. 

You’re still smiling when the door closes, your back to Carlos’ front. “He seems to like you-“ 

You were destined to never finish that sentence. Within a split moment, there are warm hands, rough hands resting on either side of your waist, twisting your body within his grasp. He takes two steps backwards, enough pacing to have your back pressed against the closed door: the coldness of the wood contrasting violently with the heat radiating off your best friend. 

He couldn’t hold any emotion. Carlos Sainz wears his heart on his sleeve. That much is adamant, from the way his text messages were drafted, to the way he tilts his head, meshing his lips to your own. 

They’re surprisingly soft; there’s nothing soft in the way his hands grasp at your waist, the way his body is pressing so deeply into yours. Yet, as his lips continue to entrance yours, they feel like clouds; a gentle stroke of a paintbrush. His artistry continues when his kisses get deeper, one of his hands enclosing yours, bringing it to rest around his shoulders, pushing the two of you closer together. Your other hand is interlocked by his, being stretched above your head, pinned to the door you’re resting upon. 

He's waited so long for this, before lunch, before your moment in the sea. He’s wanted this since the moment you walked into the Ferrari Paddock alongside your father, you must have been etched into his heart. 

Carlos isn’t thinking; his kisses are becoming rougher, one hand blindly reaching for your leg, almost bare from the shorts you had opted from your wardrobe earlier. He guides it to rest upon his hip, grunting when he can feel his hardened crotch press between your legs. His reality comes crashing down when he feels the cool band on your fingers entangling in his hair. Your wedding ring. 

Ragged breaths, panting, he pulls away from your lips, pressing his forehead to your own in a sheer plea of comfort. Both your breaths are synchronized, both grasping for some form of air in the room. 

“You’re everything, Mariposa.” He whispers, closing his dark eyes, enjoying his moment, taking every opportunity to imprint the feeling of your body, of your lips into his mind. He prays this won’t be the last time he holds you this way. 

Carlos Sainz is a fast texter. 

In the moments after you had shared the intimacy, hidden away in his driver’s room, he’s gone into a sheer panic. He’d overstepped, he’d made an advancement on you at your most vulnerable. When he had left for the press alongside your husband, he didn’t have a single chance to pull you aside, not when you had left the moment after the duo had been pulled into their press conferences. Simply, you were not waiting around to catch glimpses of the mistress, still proudly flocking around the Paddock as if it was her home.

It had taken a matter of moments to request a car home, having slipped out of the Ferrari building, talking to one of your father’s colleagues about your departure. Silently, you paced out of the building, a direct beeline towards the car park, head down from the ever-present photographers. 

You hadn’t expected a text from either your husband or his teammate, considering that they were both in press conferences until further notice. However, when you had felt and grasped the device in your shorts, you had immediately noticed the soft vibrations, pulling your device out of your pocket, your eyes being illuminated by the screen of your phone. Two text messages. One from your father, one from Carlos. Your attention is drawn to the latter, curious on what your best friend has to say. 

11:32: Carlos Sainz: 

I’m really, truly sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I haven’t seen Charles yet to let him know you left. You don’t have to see me again if you do not wish. 

11:36: You

It wasn’t you at all, I promise! I was aware that Charles’ mistress was about, I couldn’t stick about for that. 

Carlos messages you back, almost immediately. You’re confused, considering he is due to be in press alongside Charles. He could be having a break; he could have completely skipped out on several media appearances. 

11:38: Carlos Sainz

I wish you could have stayed longer. I meant what I said, every single word. Please let me know if you need anything.

11:41: You

I know, C. I appreciate it, even if I express it terribly. I’ll always be here for you, too. Always. 

You never get to see the next message that Carlos sends to you. Instead, your phone starts ringing, an incoming call from your father. You’re certain that the chauffeur won’t mind you taking the call whatsoever, holding the device to your ear as your father’s tone fills the void, his words becoming numbing as he runs through the details of your mother’s funeral, the tears in his voice beginning to swell heavily. 

Charles had left the Paddock as soon as he got notice of your departure. He hadn’t bothered to message, his sole focus being on returning to the hotel, to find out what on Earth had happened to you. He was fortunate enough to escape the wandering eyes of his ex-mistress, how on Earth she had gotten into the Paddock for that race was beyond him, especially since he had ceased contact from that day. 

The car arrives swiftly outside of the hotel; immediately, Charles is rushing through the back entrance, beelining for the staircase; waiting for an elevator at this moment would be too much. Within moments, he’s fumbling for his key card, pushing the door open, his heart shattering at the vision in front of him. 

You, his wife, sat on the edge of one of the king-size beds; your head is buried into your hands, heavy sobs racking through your body. He can see the goosebumps littering your skin, the solemn shakes running through you, the trauma of losing somebody you cared about so deeply, combined with a cocktail of emotions from your entrance to the Paddock had become too much. 

He doesn’t care about boundaries, not at this point. Immediately, Charles has crouched in front of you, his gentle hands reaching to grasp around your wrists. There’s a flinch at the sudden contact; your skin had overheated from the sheer energy of crying; your husband’s cool touch was a stark contrast which made you shiver. Delicate touches pull your hands away from your eyes. They’re so red, so swollen. Had he ever made you react like that from his own actions. The Monegasque doesn’t want to question that right now, he can’t even bring himself to look into your broken eyes. Instead, he feels as your arms wrap around his neck, hiding your face in his neck, craving for somebody to just…hold you. 

Your husband has no issue in that desire; he lets you remain like that, Charles on his knees whilst you cling to him, the tears dampening through his shirt. One hand slides across your back, kneading gentle circles into your skin. At some point, you move onto the bed, the man lying back on the soft furnishings whilst you rest your head on his chest, arms encircling you as if he could hold you together, until the storm in your mind passes. 

When the tears subside, you finally find the energy to look up to your husband. He hadn’t reached for his phone, tried to find some form of entertainment whilst he held you to his chest for hours. Instead, his gaze had been fixed upon you, brushing a gentle stroke over your cheek, his fingers dancing against your skin, brushing away the tension from heavy lines and sobs. When your eyes do open, you’re greeted with a soft smile, Charles leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Do you need some water?” His concern is to bring you back up to health; now the tears have stopped, he can do this. “I can order some food; would you like that?” His voice is so quiet, as if a simple loud sound could shatter through your veins. You can’t muster up more than a nod, your body becoming colder when Charles’ gently shifts away, sitting up so he can reach for the telephone. His voice is so mesmerizing, speaking down the line as he requests different foods; he doesn’t mind how much he orders, if he can coax you into even eating a little, the man will be satisfied. 

The call finishes, but the man doesn’t sink back down into his previous position. Instead, whilst he remains sat up, Charles guides you to join him, your body still aching from your emotional breakdown. He murmurs under his breath as he pulls you into his lap, your body is tense until his strong arms wrap around your waist, the warmth instantly allowing you to relax, lean back into his firm chest. 

“I’ve wanted to speak to you for a few days.” His voice is soft, but the phrase causes you to feel a sharp panic dance down your chest. Surely, this can’t be good. The relationship had evolved from barely speaking to intimate conversations within a span of two weeks. You try, try so hard to keep a clear mind as your husband continues to address you. 

“How I’ve acted…how I treated you, all that time-“ He must stop himself, trying not to let his own emotion overpower his words. “I’m never going to be able to take it all back, and I will never be able to stop apologizing for it.” His whispers, his eyes growing misty with regret. “I will never forgive myself for how I treated you, nor do I ever expect you to forgive me. But…I want to try. I want to try and spend the rest of my days as you husband. I know…it won’t be overnight, but I’ll do anything, anything for you.”  

The tears are rolling down your own cheeks now; never, in your wildest dreams, did you expect for Charles to speak those words of affirmation to you. His hand moves cautiously, to your face, wiping the tears which were pooling across your features.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, letting one of his hands remain on your cheek. The man leans forward, pressing gentle butterfly kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose…he pauses, mere inches from your lips. He wants to kiss you; he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to push you; his mind and his heart are complete opposites. 

His mind goes into overdrive when you lean forward and press your lips to his own. They’re salty, slightly chapped, but undeniably something he has been craving for oh-so-long. Charles is immediately kissing you back, his grip around you tightening, keeping your body close to his own. Carefully, he shuffles the two of you back into a lying position, never once breaking the kiss, tumbling back onto the mattress.

Of course, you don’t miss his grumble of annoyance when the food eventually arrives.

 Carlos Sainz is a gentle kisser. 

An autumn breeze was strong on the dreaded day; the funeral had rolled around way too soon for your liking. Rows of family connections, close and distant friends lined the outside of the cemetery, eyes all transfixed on the black hearse rolling into view. Murmurs were pressed into silence, a bitter air all-too present as the ivory coffin was removed from the vehicle. Your elder brother and two cousins were to assist in carrying the piece into the church. Plans were soon suspended when the eldest of your siblings collapsed into tears, head in his hands upon the sheer realization that this was it.

Your father is desperately looking around, practically praying outside a place of worship that the eldest could pull himself together; it’s impossible. Whilst one of your arms is occupied, holding the hand of your young sister, the other gently wraps around his torso, comforting him in the ways he had done for you when you were nothing more than a young girl in messy braids and mismatched socks. 

His wife stood on his right-hand side, adamant on consoling the man as you were, a caring hand running across his back. Your husband stood next to your sister, her childish eyes blinking in confusion; just like you, she had never seen her brother this inconsolable. 

Charles feels a pain wash through him, he wants nothing more than to help his dear family through this moment. Maybe the act he was playing for so long was just a way of shielding himself from caring. Now he had bared his soul towards you, pleading for a second chance, the man wanted to be there for you, in every sense of the word. 

He murmurs something incoherently, stepping away from your side, leaning towards your father’s ear. Whatever he mumbles is met with a sharp nod, a firm pat on the shoulder in confirmation. Your husband keeps a firm gaze on the coffin, not catching your own eyes as he walks towards the piece to join your cousins. There’s a quick whisper between the men, before the ivory is shuffled from the car, resting on their suit-clad shoulders. Silence falls over the attendants as your mother is carried into the church, immediate family following closely behind. Hesitantly, your eyes look to the crowding people, and as if by fate, you see his dark eyes, the fluffy curls brushed back to conform. He shouldn’t look that good in a dark suit. 

Most noticeably, his gaze isn’t fixed on the church, on the six men carrying your mother. It’s transfixed on you. 

The service is beautiful, if you can describe it like that. Flowers are placed atop of your mother’s coffin, the service of words correlating to her soul, the hymns sung were always her favorite when you had frequented church as a young girl. However, there’s a turning point. When the priest begins to speak of her dear children, tears pool in your lower lash-line. You want to take the time for yourself, to mourn, but louder sobs are emitting from next to you; the youngest child is beginning to realize her mother is truly gone. 

You’re torn; pulling her towards you would only make you cry harder; you had already seen your father and brother fall apart, silently knowing you would have to be the one to wait by the door, thanking the copious guests for attending. Her tears are suddenly quietened when you see her gently shuffled into Charles’ lap; despite the estranged relationship for the past twelve months, he’d always had a soft spot for your sister, she reminded him of when Arthur was young. Whilst her tears turn softer, he runs a hand over her back, letting the young girl rest her heavy head in his sternum. 

The open gap in the seating allowed for you to shuffle closer towards your husband, his free arm wrapping around your torso. You had to remain sitting up straight; his presence right now would have to be enough for your comfort. To any unassuming eye, you would probably look like a family, the crowds of attendants would have no idea of the true story behind your marriage. Even on the darkest days, the narrative was played well.

When the service draws to a close, final prayers are spoken. The first to rise are your father and brother, both clinging to one-another as they must leave the building. Silently, you pull yourself away from your husband’s grasp, smoothing the skirt of your dress. Charles remains seated, your sister practically passing out atop of him. Today had been a heavy day for a child, after all. 

There are rows of people pausing to console you on your loss whilst you stand at the door of the church; friends you had known for oh-so-long, members of the Scuderia Ferrari team; you had never seen Fred Vasseur cry, but the redness of his eyes told you something completely different as he took one of your hands in his, squeezing it in apology. 

The pews filter out silently, a large group of the guests making their way back to your father’s home, the wake soon to begin, a blessing and want of your late mother. Sharp footsteps are emitted through the church, the penultimate duo being your husband and sister. He was still carrying her, head resting on his shoulder, almost completely asleep. Charles smiles at finally seeing you, using his free hand to run across the back of your head. 

“I’m going to take her back.” Charles explains to you. He understands you don't need the pressure of looking after her atop of everything else bound to come your way. “Let me know when you’re done here, please?” Silently, you nod, no hesitation needed as he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, bidding you farewell as he paces out of the church, holding your sister tightly in comfort. 

You believe that’s everybody, ready to collect your belongings and thank the priest for a heart-warming farewell. Before you can even think to turn around, there’s a light cough, emitting you to spin on your heel. 

He’s there. Still clad in his designer suit, hair pushed back behind his ears. Undeniably, Carlos Sainz looks good in any situation. He holds your bag in one hand, the other reaching out to clasp around your wrist. You gasp at the warm skin pressing to your own, heat radiating through your body. The man leans down, letting his lips brush against your own, a sweet feathering brush pressing onto you. Carlos wanted to be there for you, more than ever on what would be the hardest day. 

Seeing Charles take that position had made his blood boil. 

His grip on you remains tight as he leads you out of the church and towards his own car, parked in the most secluded section of the lot. When his grip falters to hold your hand instead, he doesn’t aim to correct it, instead only holding tighter. He only removes his grasp to unlock his car, sliding himself into the driving seat, pushing the recliner back as far as it would go. When the space is present, he guides you to rest atop of his lap, arms tightening around your waist as he lets the door close, bodies pressed together tightly. 

“Is this okay?” He murmurs, keeping your faces so close together. The built-up emotion, the desire since your last kiss had built a fire in your stomach, not so much as speaking before pressing your lips to his own. Whilst your own movements had become desperate, craving for some form of emotional release, his remained feather-light, one hand tangled into your hair, the other resting firmly on your waist. 

His lips are soon ghosting over your cheek, fluttering across your jawline and landing on your neck, small whines emitting from your lips as he seeks to trace his tongue over your sweetest spot. The sensation across your body, the hot touch of his skin and an undeniable bulge now settling between your legs. 

There’s a sudden realization that you needed to go home. Being with Carlos was the affection you desired, your heart knows however that right now, your family needs you. Hesitantly, you pull away from the man’s lips, feeling utterly guilty for the pleading look in his eyes as you rest your forehead against his own. He could never hate you for it, though. In his eyes, you could never draw that feeling from him. You don’t need to say anything, he knows. 

“I’ll drive you back.” He murmurs, pressing one final kiss to your lips before allowing you to slide into the leather passenger seat. 

The drive to your father’s home is almost silent; there’s an occasional rev of the engine, various horns from different cars along the highway. A part of you always prays that each drive with the Spaniard could last forever, you could drive into the distance and live happily ever after. The fairy-tale is soon dissolved when you pull to the driveway, hearing the engine of the car cease. Your eyes find Carlos’ side profile, still transfixed on the road ahead. 

“Are you coming in?” You ask gently. He sighs, the grip on his steering wheel becoming tighter.

“I can’t see you that close to him, Mariposa.” He murmurs, finally finding the courage to look you in the eyes. “Not when I want to be that close to you.” One hand finds its way off the wheel, entwining your fingers together, peppering light kisses against your knuckles. “Please call me when you go back. I’ll miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you too.” You whisper, leaning to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek. In that moment, Carlos Sainz is your savior. He’s your truth. 

Carlos Sainz is a liar. 

Your knuckles had turned white from the grasp on your phone, you didn’t want to believe anything you were seeing. What was supposed to be an impromptu browse of Twitter whilst waiting for your husband to finish in the en-suite, had turned into a deep dive through a certain hashtag, having seen information spread on a certain Ferrari driver.

It had started as a simple few tweets, some fans and gossip pages reckoning they had seen the driver in an exclusive club, some random blonde sitting on top of him. The photos came second, though the angle was skewed, the quality too weak to see who was there. The final nail was the video; Carlos’ hand placed on her waist, how he had done to you mere hours ago, his mouth pressing against hers, clearly nothing else on his mind. 

Granted, you knew you had no right to feel the anger you did; after all, you were married, Carlos was a single man, free to do as he desired. Yet, your rage was fuelled by the romantic, now seemingly empty promises he had made you; how you were his everything, how he would treat you better than Charles ever did. He was no different than Charles Leclerc, and as your fumbled fingers reached to his contact, your rage felt inclined to tell him that. 

The phone rings once, twice, three times. You’re set to hang up, leave a particularly nasty text message to the man before the line connects. Immediately, your eardrums are overtaken by the loud pulse of a nightclub, some feminine laughter almost directly on top of him. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. Clearly, he’s now intoxicated, his accent is always thicker when he is. You hear another voice, telling him to hang up the phone and to come and dance with her. “Hey- are you there?”

“I’m here.” You snap; why do you feel this enraged? You must have done so when you first saw Charles with his mistress; that had become such a common occurrence that the fire in your stomach must have eventually drained. “And clearly, you’re busy with the woman climbing all over you.” 

“Fuck- you left me hanging!” He retorts, drunken mind clearly pressing against any form of sober thought. “You went back to your husband. Left me with nothing. Fuck the funeral.” He snaps, clearly now becoming enraged with the entire situation, with the fact he had been caught out. The words pressed through the speaker of your phone and emitted a wave of sobs from your stomach, immediately pressing the red button on your device.

Carlos Sainz wasn’t in love with you. He just liked the distraction. 

Of course, as fate would have it, the moment that your tears began again was the moment Charles had left the bathroom. He’s dressed in just a pair of boxers, chest bare and tone after his warm shower. The sound of the door opening caused you to turn to the source. His eyes widen, scampering towards you, cradling you in his arms, bare chest against your cheek. Silently, you sob into his body for the third time that day, wanting nothing more than for every form of pain to stop.

“Hey, come on.” He whispers, arms circling your body, pulling you tight against him. He thinks that seeing you cry will get easier each time, that the pain in the pit of his stomach won’t continue to eat him away. However, it never gets easier; he hates seeing you cry, every single time. “It’s been a long day, yeah? Let’s get some sleep, baby.”

The nickname sounds foreign on his tongue, though neither of you question it. If anything it causes more emotion to flicker through your body, the fact that your estranged husband was finally beginning to give you. Silently, he guides the two of you into the large bed, cradling you to his chest as he had done whilst in Qatar. Sleep and emotion overtake you, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder as a ‘thank you,’ before drifting into a state of slumber.

The sleep means you miss a vital update from the Twitter threads you had been closely following earlier. 

‘Carlos Sainz leaves exclusive club ALONE, despite dating rumors arising with mystery blonde.’

Carlos Sainz is your best friend.

You returned to the following day; the entire time remaining at your father’s house had consisted of nothing but tears. You had been especially concerned for your sister, watching the way she had clinged to Charles when the duo was saying their fond farewells. After a tight hug from each family member, your husband hand interlinked your fingers together, guiding the two of you to his own car, each free hand carrying along the suitcases. 

The first hour of the drive home had been quiet, the buzzing streets had morphed into greenery, the sun beginning to set across the coast. Your eyelids couldn’t find it to grow heavy, having done nothing but sob and sleep for the past twenty-four hours. Instead, your focus turned to the radio, a familiar song trickling out of the speaker, one you hadn’t heard in almost eighteen months. 

“Is this…” You ask, fingers reaching towards the dial, turning the volume up slightly. Behind his sunglasses, Charles grins. You hadn’t expected him to recognise the song, let alone be aware of where he recognised it from. 

“Our first dance.” Your husband laughs, both nodding your head to the music. One hand on the wheel, he reached out his other hand to grasp yours on his own, a gentle squeeze passing through each hand. “We’ll have to dance to it again, properly next time.” He promises to himself, eyes focused on the road as he continues to drive you both home. 

It’s almost dark by the time you have arrived back at your driveway. The stones are dipped in the darkness, the only illumination being from the headlights of Charles’ iconic vehicle. Your eyes flicker towards the doorstep, convinced the sleep is playing tricks on your mind; why on earth was there a figure standing on the doorstep to your house? They were slim, feminine, holding a cream envelope in one hand, a designer bag resting atop the other. 

The familiar feeling of who she was began to nestle in your stomach. Surely, it couldn’t have been her; even your husband would not have the audacity to invite her to the house, right after you had returned home from what was quite possibly the saddest moment of your life. It couldn’t be her, even if every sign pointed towards the truth, you’d begin to search for the tiniest detail; her hair was too short. Your stomach snaps when you realize it’s the identical haircut from the Paddock mere days ago. 

“What on earth-“ You hear your husband begin to speak, turning off the engine to the car. He looks over to your figure, but you show no emotion, no reaction on the exterior. Immediately, he has stepped out of the car, violently slamming the door behind him, causing you to snap out of the trance the woman had placed you upon. 

Your eyes fixed upon Charles, his mistress trying to reach out into his touch. She’d pressed the envelope into his hand, continuing to speak. The words were clear through the thin glass of the car’s windscreen, divorce, pictures, evidence. 

You couldn’t stick around to watch this activity play out. Immediately, you reach out for your phone, breathing uneven as you scroll through the contact list, searching for his name. Despite the last twenty-four hours, you were not too sure who else to call. It takes less than a moment for him to answer, your words rambling and falling over one another, pleading for him to come and collect you. He speaks firmly, commanding you to stay in the car, he would be there as soon as possible. 

Charles is so deep in conversation, pleading for his mistress to reconsider, that he doesn’t see you slip out of the car, stepping down the driveway into the awaiting car of Carlos Sainz. He makes no intention to show you affection when first stepping into the vehicle, his only intention to get you out of the situation as soon as possible. Whilst silence filled the space between you both, you had sent a text to your husband, confirming your disappearance. 

23:01: You

I’m so sorry, I can’t be there when she is, not anymore. I’ll be back at the house tomorrow. Thank you for everything.  

There’s no response. If you’re completely honest, you were not expecting anything else, not whilst he was engrossed in conversation. The street is quiet as you pull into Carlos’ driveway. Saying nothing, the man simply removes his keys from the ignition, before leaning over your frame to open your door, ever the gentleman. Of course, his eyes catch yours as he leans back, creating a deep gaze for oh-so-long. Carefully slipping out of his gaze, you leave the car, walking up the steps to his apartment, the door opening for your arrival. 

It's homely. Clearly lived in. Shoes are thrown across the entrance mat, coats hanging in the rack. Although it is primarily basic, a little bare, there’s touches around the complex which warm your heart; a photograph of the man with his sisters and father, a helmet you immediately recognise as Lando Norris’ resting atop of a bookshelf. There’s fine wine glasses resting atop of his coffee table; clearly ready for their usage before your untimely call. 

The details become irrelevant the moment you feel his warm arms circle around your middle; the rising of your hoodie lets his body heat radiate onto yours. Carlos doesn’t need to say anything, his face comes towards the joint between your neck and your shoulder, using his nose to brush your hair away, exposing the skin he craves to mark. 

“Mariposa.” He whispers, hiding his expression in your soft skin. “I can explain her, I can explain who she is, I didn’t-“ 

This time, it’s you who rolls around in Carlos’ touch, your arms entwining around his neck, pulling his lips to touch yours. The Spaniard does not need convincing, his grip on your waist immediately tightening, pushing your bodies closer together, if that was even humanly possible. This time, when his lips begin to trail down your neck, there’s no hesitation left in your mind, letting the man dance across your skin, leaving small bites, trails of his tongue against you. 

You realize it’s you, making a small whine as he pulls away from your body, catching his breath whilst his tanned arms reach to the bottom of his shirt, exposing his chest once more. This time, your fingers fumble to find the hem of your hoodie, pulling the clothing atop of your head, exposing the laciest bra Carlos had ever seen. There’s a grunt from the back of his mouth as he darts forward, one rough palm scooping your breast from the lingerie, his mouth immediately finding your nipple, tongue tracing across the sensitive skin whilst his stubble rubs against your exposed flesh. 

He doesn’t let up, not even when your legs go weak. His mouth remains firmly attached, using his arms to instead scoop you into his grasp, your whining sheer pornography to his ears whilst he carries you into his bedroom. 

He will simply ruin you for every other person, and god forbid if he lost you now. 

You realize hours later, somewhere between your post-orgasm haze and the combined warmth of Carlos’ hoodie and his firm arms that best friends did not have intense, body-numbing sex in the middle of the night, specifically when one of them was married, the other one a close friend of her husband. Yet, it somehow feels normal, as if this had been the longest impending explosion. Of course, you had explained to the man the reasoning for calling him out so late, for him to simply hush you, promising you would have never been a burden to him. The further questions of what is to come next are pushed to the back of your mind. 

Your sleeping state misses two key moments. The first? The slight camera shutter from a phone as Carlos places his device back on the nightstand, snuggling down into the blankets, his dream to hold you whilst he slept finally arising.

The second? Your phone finally buzzed with a response from your husband, unable to sleep without knowing you were in the large house alongside him. 

02:51: Charles Leclerc

I’m in love with you.

This is everyone who asked to be tagged! @Mac-daddy-210 @aundercover @barnestatic @omgsuperstarg @chimchimjiminie16 @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @magicalcowboyarbiter @gaslasysblog @junetto @beatrizmel-472 @motorsp0rt @crowdthena @screemqueen @lewislvr @styles-sunflower @itspaddockprincess @adeptustemptations @amalialeclerc @meetmyblondemuffins @formulanando @lorarri @christianpulisic10 @gaypoetsblog @thisbitxhs-blog @goldsainz @ru-kru @magical-spit @hrlzy @nooshytushie @gaslysainz @marvel-at-stucky @sugarvibez

[sixflame438]

YAH MY DEMENTIA WAS IN MY ASS AGAIN AND I LITERALLY FORGOT BUT WHY YOU CALLIN ME HAG HUH ✋😒😒😒😒

UNACCEPTABLE

ill be the one crushing ur dusty ass fr fr ZONT play w me istggggg amen

SMAU BANGER INCOMING JHGFDSFGHJK FR COMEBACK WHENNNNNNN im in hiatus rn so i wont be uploading soon (sry guys i lied abt updating the dani fic its still in 600 words rn and I haven't even got to the middle part like bffr) BUT I have like 6 drafts rn so when my writing eras back I'm gonna be sure to feed my litol children well TRUSTTT

I once tried to do puzzles (it was the sunflower painting of van goh) but yknow I dunno how to even do that shit and ended giving up midway bc lemme tell you I was STRESSED) learned it wasn't for me the hard way hahaha 😀👍

if im a hag ur the old granmama form of evil step mother from snow white (dw ill support ur dusty crusty ass bc I'm a gud friend duh)

im kidnapping u w me if u ever even try to find and hunt my ass istg I'm a gud girl everyone will believe if I said YOU went down bc of natural cause 😇😇😇

THE OLD GRANMAMA FORM OF THE EVIL STEP MOTHER IS CRAZY FUCK YOU MEAN THATS ME HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR ASS CLEARLY THATS YOU

Hiatus she said, wait till its revealed shes on indefinite hiatus instead 🙄🙄 GET THAT DANI FIC DONEEE

I have 4 half finished drafts and i was going through them the other day omg what the heck was i trying to write 😭😭😭 TRUST ILL HAVE ONE DONE AND OUT BY THE END OF THIS WEEK ILL LITERALLY WRITE YOU SOMETHING IF I DONT GET IT DONE LIKE PLZ IM ALRDY AT LIKE 5K I THINK GIVE ME A LIL TIME

Teehee the smau im working on currently is a collab one 😁 first chapter is dont but i cant do anything more bc ive gotta wait for her to do the next one and shes on holiday rn 🤦‍♀️(sssshhhh dont tell her im revealing more info, she might come for me or worse not send me my presents)

But that reminds me i have another smau idea i can work on in the mean time so 😈😈 fr the only thing stopping me is the choice of love interest 😭

Dude i love puzzles ☺️ i legit did this 1000 piece one in 5hrs 20mins it was soo nice.

YOU KNOW WHAT ISINT NICE?? DOING ALL THAT JUST FOR A PIECE TO BE FUCKING MISSING WHAT THE HECK????? AND ITS NOT LIKE OTS ONLY HAPPENED ONCE I SWEAR EVERY PUZZLE I OWN IS MISSING A PIECE AND I DONT KNOW WHY 😭😭

[1d1195]

Ohhhh Sam, THANK YOU SO MUCHHH I FEEL SO PROUD this term i was very busy with my auntie bwcause she was visting us (she lives in france and its been 4 years since she last visited) so i was busy with my cousins and trying to show them around before their time is over with us :(

SAM you ARE incredible😭 we work in a pharmacy together (she's a pharmacist, but I work with cosmetics), so yeahhh she's been talking about this whitening cleanser that has some great reviews, and she's not taking care of herself enough because our older siblings are troubles, so the house is full of drama all the damn time😭😡 and I might just try and buy that cleanser for her it'll be hard tho as we're in the same place but I may ask my brother who's working the night shift to get it (yes all my siblings are pharmacists I am the exception)😭

You absolutely seem like a birthday person it's obvious that you really love to gift people and see their smiles since you're always very kind💕 I hope you stay that way! But don't get yourself hurt. My mom says the kindest people get the most hurt :(

So you think the photo session would make her happy? Idk I'm always hesitant😭 I'll have to make a big-girl decision

I'm so happy to know that you're doing better. You deserve that girlie. Your hair seems so soft and fluffy and really healthy, which is awesome! I know I said my hair is a little longer than usual but it's not healthy🙈 lmao I'm a hijabi and spend most of my time out so when I get an opportunity to take care of my hair I do but I think I made my mind a few days ago I was combing my hair and I think long hear suits me. ANYWAYS THAT WAS NOT NEEDED BUT EHH

I just love self-care, so I love to talk about it. I'm not over the fact that I'm a junior, tho. Oh, btw I recently discovered that I have ADHD like.. it's not thar common here, but I had my doubts, but then I saw an interview with two kids one has ADHD and the other does not,I found myself acting like the other girl and it just snapped to me, but then again don't we all have ADHD😭😭

IM IN LOVE WITH FLOWER (I think that's it, right?😭 sorry!) I saw the new update I'll read it right after finishing my ranting session. Have you read any book from the Twisted series? I bought it recently and the first book is taking me ages to finish it, it's not boring but the chapters are heavily written.

Do you have any pets??? I love birds and cats, but I had two birds a few years back, but we were traveling constantly and it was hard to leave th so I gave them to my cousin but I think they run away😭 but! I reaaaally want a little kitten, duh.

Sam thank you so much for helping take care pleaaase🩷🩷🎀

Oh btw a question just popped. Do you ever wonder about the anons? Like their names and stuff, I find MYSELF wondering lol😭 yalla byeee🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️

🎀-anon 🙈

OH WAIT I ALWAYS REMEMBER STUFF AFTER SENDING THE MESSAGE, TOOTHPASTE IS SO DEVINE!!!! I love that she's confident, she can't hold her tongue and it's just so cute that he asked her on a date on that note it was so cute you're always writing cute stuff I don't know if I'll melt from it or the weather

--

That's so sweet you got to see your family 💕 My family is crazy and I love them but it's never relaxing when they're around. It's nice you got to see them after so long.

That's really cool you work with your family. It's nice! I'm sure your sister will appreciate the cleanser! Especially where it's something you talked about with her. The photo session would be nice too! I think that would be really special as well, so whatever you decide she will love I'm sure 💕

I think unfortunately your mom might be right. I hurt my own feelings more than anything. It's because I want a me in my own life to do what I do for others and it just doesn't happen lol. Shakespeare's got something on how expectation is the root of all heartache. It's very true. But thank you, I'm trying to be better about my self worth and whatnot and lower my expectations hahahahah

My hair is sometimes soft and definitely fluffy. One time I straightened it and my friend couldn't find me in the lunch room. The problem is that like one degree of moisture sets it into a complete frizz. It's looking healthier now but it looked pretty raggedy not too long ago 😂 I really love long hair though so it sounds like you made a good decision!

Idk what I have but I need to be studied 😂 I read a lot about how ADHD and anxiety presents differently in women than in men (naturally) so I probably have one or more diagnoses in my future. It's cool you connected with the person though and recognized similarities in yourself. Even just getting comfortable with the idea of being ADHD or whatever, I think, is an important step in coping and figuring out how to navigate everyday life 😊 Hopefully that makes sense!

I have not read Twisted, but I've heard good things. I'm not sure I want something deep right now though. This tbr shelf of mine is out of control lol.

No pets for me. I'm pretty allergic to pet dander. Cats especially. I'm def more a dog person than a cat person as well. I love all baby animals though, kittens are so sweet!

I WONDER ALL THE TIME ABOUT MY ANONS. I think about everyone's name and where they live. It's really fun to imagine but I wish I could have a huge Harry Styles themed party and hug everyone.

I'm starting to really love toothpaste. I'm glad you liked it 💕

stay cool and don't melt! Much love 💕

xoxo

[ofallthingsnasty]

God damn, your mind's just so precious 😱😍😍😍 it's really what struck me when i finished your fic, you picture him sooo well ! You're right, dark is really canon for him and (lets be honest) he's basically a piece of shit 😅 but it somehow nurish my masochistic kinks 😳 (I admit starting playing rdr2 this summer and I havnt finished the main storyline but I will as soon as I have the time 😭)

You can count me in for your next a/b/o fic 👋 i'm sure its gonna be awesome 🥺💗

I loooove all the ideas you decifered in this !! Like it's brutally honest that despite everything that will happen Micah will never truely love you (that's what I think of him too) but he's a crazyman and I just picture him being super jealous. Like real dangerously so. Not just about reader, but like you kind of portrayed it in Through the Briar, he's also super jealous of Arthur and that's what makes him super explosive.

Argh, why the objectifying possessivness of Micah over the reader carrying his child is so hot 🥵❤️‍🔥 ?? I havn't thought about it but you are so right about the fact that he would have no shame droping hint that he slept with the reader in front of all the crew, and she would probably never tell anyone that he forced himself onto her beacause she would be so ashamed...

Being pregnant with his child would doom the rest of the reader's life, like I don't think she could escape him for long... But what if she had a little girl ? How do you think Micah would react ? I'm not sure but I'd say that he'd be more distant with them, and reader would have a slightly easier life.

I kind of have the impression that if she trier to escape him though, bringing HIS child with her, he'd find her and make sure that she'd be trapped with another baby of him, making it even more difficult for her to run away...

But back to the camp, I feel like everyone would be concerned by the fact that Micah slept with the reader, but I think the only one that would have no doubt about the fact that it was non-consensual would be Arthur. Like, he saw how reader never talked back to him even though he's been roughing her up and he des not trust him. At all.

But without confirmation, he'd just be extra careful when he's around.

Seing how other would interact with reader after they found out about Micah would be vers interesting ! And also really sad for the reader...

You seem to have already so many ideas : I really hope you'll someday elaborate all of them in a sequel or something 🤩✨️

I laugh so hard at your alternative timeline with Arthur, the sunset and the credits 🤣🤣 I'll keep it dearly close to my heart for emotional support emergency 🧡

Oh please do ramble whenever you want I loved that 🤣💖 also thanks for your reply, it must have took you sooo long, but I enjoyed it so much 😘

I'm really happy it made you smile this early in the morning and I hope it made your day brighter ☀️🌈 Take care 💕

Ps : I'm sorry to ear that you were expecting hate on your lil diamond, I get that darker content can be targeted but these are fantaisies, and as long as they stay this way, I think we can all live a safer world 🌷 especially if everyone read the trigger warnings and age limits ! Stay safe everyone 💚

I am SO sorry for making you wait this long for an answer, this week has been eating me alive so far lol. And thank you again! To be 100% honest, out of the whole VDL gang he is the easiest to write for me because he is imo very predictable. Arthur and John are hard asf for me - or Javier. Oh my god, I can't read that guy at all!! For some reason my brain just vibes with Micah in that way lol. And I only played until Chapter 4 in February and finally completed the game this summer, so kinda same haha!! I'll try not to spoil you!! 💗💗 And @ the masochistic side of you! Totally get it! I love to write about hopeless and bleak scenarios, it's super cathartic to me. And from the main cast, Micah is just the one who comes to mind when thinking about rdr2 darkfic (because I don't quite think that even low honor Arthur would go as far as noncon of a fellow gang member? Idk just my impression. And the rest of the gang is at best emotionally manipulative, but I don't anyone would pull what Micah did in through the briar.)

I so agree with everything you said!! If you were to have a little girl instead of a boy, he'd definitely be more distant. But we saw in his letter to Amos that he does keep tabs on the people in his closer circle - and while he isn't going the be father of the year 1900-1910™, I do think that from that point onwards, you're 'his woman'. I think he'd have no issue with getting you pregnant again and again until you finally have that little boy. Mind you, I think he'd drop you off somewhere and stop by every weeks/months, like Arthur did with Isaac. He isn't gonna be around 24/7, he has his gang stuff to do and you'd only be a hindrance. Imagine how humiliating it has to be to make up lies about your 'husband' to the very few neighbors you do have and then it's... Micah. And regarding escaping him: yes, a hundred times yes. Wherever you're hiding out, he'll go in, guns blazing, and make a whole show of shooting every poor soul there. He'd be absolutely livid, to be honest, and he's gonna take it out on anyone standing in his way and THEN you. I genuinely think he'd even slap you for it. Definitely chokes you out for a little bit until your eyes are bloody and you're frantically kicking at the ground for release. And then noncons you. Just overall a super bad, gritty situation for you, so... don't even try it. (There are also a few things to consider regarding the epilogue but I'm not gonna spoil you haha!!)

The camp reactions are super interesting for me to think about as well; either a sequel that picks up where I left off or the 'escape in the epilogue' would be cool to write about but I don't think I'd get that fic done until next year summer (which sounds shocking, I know, but knowing my writing speed and what is in my immediate future, it's, unfortunately, the truth 😭). So let me elaborate on here before I leave you to starve (😭😭😭). I think, at first, the women would be put off immensely. As soon as they figure it out, I think they'd judge you, even if just a little. They've spent weeks, months shooting him and his disgusting advances down and while everyone knows Micah is a snake, they aren't safe from that little nagging voice in the back of their head that thinks about the 'what if you did this willingly...?' thing. The most level-headed ones of them are definitely Abigail and Tilly, I just see Abigail as the type to immediately see what's going on, much like Arthur (back to him and the men later, though). Mary-Beth seems to be somewhere in the middle and Karen the slowest to catch on. I think you could genuinely catch some of her ire at first, with her dropping some snide remarks. I think she'd be kinda mad? Until someone either tells her off or you tell her (which. Is hard. Speaking from experience.) Ms. Grimshaw? Hard to decipher. We've seen how she gets when one of the women is in danger, but the problem with the whole aftermath is that it involves TWO gang members... And one of them is regarded very highly by Dutch. So while I think there would be little fire from her side, she'd step in between you and Micah, here and there. Ultimately, she has very little say in it all, sadly. Sadie is just on the sidelines. It's not like she doesn't care but she doesn't really connect with the reader-character from through the briar and she has her own things going on. So, in short, I am still rather optimistic about your standing among the women. I think they can empathize, one way or another - no matter what they think, in the end. They might look at you funny for a bit if they think it was consensual (and they might never realize it wasn't) but time will heal those little bumps in the road, I'm sure. But still; there definitely will be a few drunken confrontations between Karen and you and they won't end pretty. But I do think Abigail cares a whole heap. We know about her past and I think she'd lend reader a shoulder to cry on, if you wanted to- which in my mind- you don't. (Like I said, I think reader would turn very quiet and reclusive after that night.)

Now onto the men: Most of them do not give a shit, in my honest opinion. The reader-character isn't necessarily regarded as pretty nor is she very sociable beyond the other women. There... isn't much to care about, as harsh as it sounds. She isn't hated or disliked, she's just an afterthought, you know? Dutch likes you well enough and Arthur is a genuine friend, and the rest... Very ambivalent. I think Charles immediately knows there is something wrong, he can read you like a book. Does he offer support? Hard to say, leaning towards no. He and reader don't really have a relationship and it isn't his place. Hosea might figure it out, too. And I think he'd call you over for a little talk but, again, reader just... can't speak about it. And honestly, I think the rest sees you in a more negative light afterwards. They probably don't put much thought into it being consensual or not, as harsh as it sounds. John might care a teeny tiny bit but someone like Bill? Jeez, no. Get ready to be mocked openly, when the chance arises. And Lenny? Oof, I think he just kinda knows something is off but much like Charles, he isn't gonna broach that topic anytime soon (again, not his place in his opinion). Dutch straight-up goes with whatever Micah feeds him, no doubt. That you both were drunk and fooling around, if he's ever questioned about it. That you're just having some buyer's remorse, basically. And quite frankly, Dutch wants to gloss over this, he needs everyone together and not divided. So don't expect much sympathy there. Now, Arthur... Arthur immediately notices how quiet you are and how you don't come to sit by his side anymore. And of course, as the absolute oaf he is, he'll probably think he did something wrong, at first. Until Micah drops his first comment and everything just clicks. I can actually see a big confrontation there and Arthur absolutely losing it - but like I said, Dutch believes Micah and needs the camp to be a united front. The fact that you were drunk is perfect for Micah's side - and Arthur will have to submit, ultimately. And I genuinely think your and Arthur's relationship would break over this; with him lording over you like some man-sized guard dog and you needing space - I can see reader snapping one day and Arthur taking it the wrong way, only for both of them to gradually grow apart. I am of course pulling from personal experiences and I leave the explanation at that so as to not trigger anyone on here.

Also, the way Micah would drop his little hints in the first place- he'll definitely get closer than ever before, not touching you, but caging you in with his body so you can't quite leave (like leaning next to you, not that anime move lmao, but definitely invading your personal space), trying to spook you, excessive pet names and overall way, way more attention... Super loud comments to the other men (ew ew ew) and a dozen new little jokes about you. Just thinking about it makes me pull a face, ew. And you touch on something I haven't thought about yet: another man approaching reader/flirting with you. I don't think he'll step in and be like 'be gone, that's my woman' (lmao never) but he'd make the worst, lewd comments about how he got you into bed and how you enjoyed it, about how 'easy' you are. Basically both humiliating you and trying to shoo that feller away. Yes, he did say that he's more likely to despise the women he has been with afterwards - and I totally think that manifests itself in more verbal abuse and shame. And if you're pregnant, back to the above haha.

Thank you so much for letting me ramble again and adding your own thoughts!! I am so happy to talk about this, you don't even know. If only I had more time 😭💕 But better late than never, right? I hope you have a lovely day wherever you are!!

[ohsomightypeaches]

😃 how did I miss it when it came out?! How?

Summary: You and Jack play house for a day.

I see you coming for me starting with the summary. The actual chapter hasnt even started and im already 🫠🫠🫠 Will I survive? Will I be yearning? Is it time to rewatch golden circle for the 2928477526th time? I can't watch Merlin die another time man. Not to mention the meat grinder.

Appaloosa: An American horse breed best known for its colourful spotted coat pattern.

Ah yes. How fitting. Why did Jack with that stupid American flag helmet in that jet just pop into my brain 😃

You stretch languidly as Jack drapes his arm over you, warm and heavy, his bare skin finding yours under the duvet. His baritone rumbles in your ear. ‘Mornin’, darlin’.’

We are 4 sentences in. We cant be yearning already. Pls. 🥺 STAHP (please don't stop)

Jack shifts, taking his weight off one elbow so that his hips slowly but surely brush against yours. ‘We’ll have to take a shortcut.’

So... that's not a no. 👀

‘How about I show you how hard I can ride, cowboy?’ You grin against his lips. ‘Will it put your mind at ease, sir?’

‘Just testin’ how well you stay on a buckin’ bronco,’ he sasses back at you with a debauched grin.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 pls

Champ owes him fifty bucks, and he intends to collect.

LOL. Champ you set them up what do you mean. 💀🤣

And he doesn’t have to wait long. He’s just finishing up the last of his slice at the dining table when he hears movement down the corridor to the guest bedrooms. There’s a flush of the toilet and a trickle of water, then Jack emerges in just his jeans, head down while he does up the fly.

Wh.. WHY ARE YOU IN THERE EATING THE CAKE KNOWING THEYRE STILL THERE

‘Mornin’ sunshine,’ pipes up Tequila, louder than he needs to. He enjoys the way the normally calm and collected cowboy jumps a foot in fright.

again WHY DID YOU GO INSIDE THE HOUSE. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT. 💀💀💀

Tequila flashes him a shit-eating grin. ‘C’mon, a thank you would be nice. I drove into town specially to get you those rubbers, you know. Did I get the sizing right, by the way? Not too loose?’

NOT TOO LOOSE 💀💀💀 im screaming 💀💀💀 TEQUILA NO

‘Like recognises like,’ winks Tequila.

💀💀💀💀💀 pls. I'm dying.

‘I can’t,’ he protests. ‘I gotta collect your dirty laundry and strip the beds. Bet I only need to strip one bed though.’

💀💀💀 i cant with him 💀💀💀💀 TEQUILA NO. (As he does not have a known government name the full word will do)

‘Mornin’ sweetheart,’ calls out Tequila with a two-fingered salute. He turns to Jack and pronounces, ‘Well, she hardly looks rode hard and put away wet, does she?’

💀💀💀💀💀💀 ksjdhxbsklsjjdje 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 nooooooo 🤣🫣😭 what is wrong with yooouuuuuuu

Whistling at Jameson to follow, Tequila calls out over his shoulder in farewell. ‘Keep your saddle oiled and your gun greased!’

I had to look up what this meant. 😃

He chuckles. ‘I’m not sure who will want to wring your neck first - Poppy or the Italians.’

LOL

You know he doesn’t mean to, but your heart sinks at his casual mention of days after - how many more do you have left before it’s just… after? 

Right after the nice domestic kitchen scene?!?! 😭😭

He has you panting into the Wyoming night sky, the sweet sound of his name on your lips something that he will remember you by - months from now, when he sits on the porch on his lonesome, another cohort of strangers fast asleep in the bed that you two once shared on a crisp midsummer night.

MAAM NO HOW DARE 😤 had to throw in the angst at the end why 😭 we were having such a great time yearning.

🥲 I suppose we gotta get through the angst to the other side but man I'm not ready. Im glad you had fun writing Tequila because man what a menace 🤣

V ║ Appaloosa

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 4: Strawberry Roan | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: You and Jack play house for a day.

Warnings: This is filthy, light angst, feelings, flirting, insecurities, sexual innuendoes, protected sex, fingering, dirty talk, language, mention of food, no use of Y/N

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: Cowboy Jack and his Darlin' are back. This is a bit of a transitional chapter as we move into the second part of the their week together, and shit's getting real 🥺 I know it's been a while, and I hope this doesn't disappoint ❤️

Appaloosa: An American horse breed best known for its colourful spotted coat pattern.

Jack can’t remember the last time he missed his alarm. 

When he slowly comes to, the room is quiet, the digital beep from his phone that you must have switched off but an echo in his ears. He exhales heavily through his nose and turns onto his side, where he finds you burrowed into your pillow.

You stretch languidly as Jack drapes his arm over you, warm and heavy, his bare skin finding yours under the duvet. His baritone rumbles in your ear. ‘Mornin’, darlin’.’

You smile as he presses a kiss to your temple. You mumble back, ‘Morning, cowboy.’

‘Sleep well?’

Shifting onto your back and blinking up at his face hovering just above you, you nod and let your gaze trail over his rumpled hair, his warm eyes, still hooded with sleep, and lips curled into a gentle smile. The morning light spilling through the window chases away the tailend of the chill from last night, and the air in the room is ripe with the musk of sex and slumber. You hum and pull him in for a chaste kiss.

‘Do the horses need feeding?’ you ask as he settles between your thighs, holding himself above you on elbows either side of your face.

‘No, I left the feed out for them last night,’ he answers, but stays still otherwise, as if he’s letting you take the lead on how this morning should play out.

You run your hands down his back, sliding slowly against his skin as you feel goosebumps bloom in their wake. Cocking your head to the side, you say, ‘So theoretically, if your guests don’t feel well -’

Jack’s brow immediately furrows in worry. ‘You don’t feel well?’

You shake your head, soothing your palms over his lower back as you reassure him, ‘No, I feel perfectly well. It’s just,’ you pause and bite your bottom lip. ‘Just theoretically - could we stay one more night?’

You can tell it’s not what he expected to hear, but the way his gaze darkens just ever so slightly doesn’t escape you. His voice comes out deeper when he finally says, ‘But we’re going to miss all the sights we were going to see today.’

With a slow nod, you reply, ‘I know.’

Jack shifts, taking his weight off one elbow so that his hips slowly but surely brush against yours. ‘We’ll have to take a shortcut.’

You don’t mean for your words to come out so breathless, but they do anyway. ‘I understand.’

Jack’s voice drops to a throaty whisper. ‘We’ll have to ride extra hard tomorrow to make up for lost time.’

‘How hard?’ you prompt, wrapping one leg around his waist, your breath hitching when you feel his hard length sliding through your folds.

‘Very hard,’ he breathes through gritted teeth, his large palms cupping your ass and squeezing greedily, pulling you flush to him.

‘How about I show you how hard I can ride, cowboy?’ You grin against his lips. ‘Will it put your mind at ease, sir?’

Jack groans and takes your lips in a searing kiss, rocking against your dampening core before pulling back to growl, ‘Not fuckin’ likely, darlin’.’

Jack’s never been one to cut work. Hell, he’d never even taken a sick day until his wife’s accident. After the funeral, he’d packed up his truck and headed straight into the woods, where he spent the entirety of three months in silent solitude in the depths of the forests.

Then he went back to work, and he’s never stopped since.

But right now, he can’t bring himself to care that he’s putting a blemish on his perfect record - not when his eyes are on your tits as you bounce on his cock, the pulse in your neck rabbiting under the scrape of his teeth when you throw your head back, nails digging into his shoulders and grounding him to the moment. In the back of his head, he hears the bed creak underneath, an off-key violin to the tune of your gasps and moans.

‘Fuck, darlin’, you ride me so well,’ he praises you, one hand coming down to smack you on the ass, which makes you stutter something incoherent as your pussy clenches around him.

‘Told you so,’ you somehow manage to reply smartly, prompting a growl from him as he thrusts up into you so hard that you nearly fall off his lap. ‘Jack!’

‘Just testin’ how well you stay on a buckin’ bronco,’ he sasses back at you with a debauched grin.

You bite your lip, hips desperately grinding against his. So close that your insides are trembling, you let his comeback slide, begging instead, ‘Do it again, Jack, please, gonna cum -’

He leans forward and presses a desperate kiss to your lips, his words catching in his throat as he feels you break around him. ‘Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

Tequila’s battered truck rattles up to the Halfway House a few minutes after nine, the metallic grunts of the engine breaking the still of the morning. Jameson sits patiently on the passenger side, but his tail is thumping excitedly on the seat at the sight of his favourite playground in the mountains.

Whistling to himself, Tequila rounds the truck to let the border collie out, who bounds headfirst towards the paddock. Looking up, he grins at the sight of the three horses still in the stables.

Champ owes him fifty bucks, and he intends to collect.

He knocks anyway - his mama taught him manners - and he gives it a couple more tries before letting himself in, leaving the door ajar if Jameson wants to come in. 

The house is silent, only the floorboards creaking under his boots as he makes a sweep of the living space. Remnants of the night before are scattered about in wine-stained glasses, empty dishes and dying embers in the fireplace. 

He gotta give it to Jack. Man’s got moves.

Humming quietly to himself, Tequila pulls open the fridge door, the interior light flooding him in orange as he pokes his head inside, and his eyes light up at the half-eaten chocolate cake. He shrugs and reaches for it - might as well have a second breakfast while he waits.

And he doesn’t have to wait long. He’s just finishing up the last of his slice at the dining table when he hears movement down the corridor to the guest bedrooms. There’s a flush of the toilet and a trickle of water, then Jack emerges in just his jeans, head down while he does up the fly.

‘Mornin’ sunshine,’ pipes up Tequila, louder than he needs to. He enjoys the way the normally calm and collected cowboy jumps a foot in fright.

Rubbing his palm over his eyes, Jack groans and stumbles over his words. ‘Oh fuck. Sorry, I meant to call. Our guest - uh, she isn’t feeling well, so we’ll be staying one more night. So that she can - get better.’

Tequila crosses his arms, one eyebrow arched. ‘She isn’t feeling well, huh?’

‘Yeah, um - something with the food,’ mumbles Jack as he stalks over to the kitchen sink to pour himself a glass of water, which he downs.

‘Losing your touch in the kitchen, Daniels?’

‘Shut up, Teak,’ glowers Jack, steadfastly avoiding his friend’s gaze as he busies himself with moving the dirty dishes from the kitchen counter. He turns on the hot water and squeezes far too much washing up liquid into the stoppered sink. Grabbing a sponge, he begins to aggressively wash up.

Tequila watches with a pleasant smile and comments, ‘Funny choice of attire when our guest can walk in any moment, by the way.’

Spinning around with soapy hands, Jack opens his mouth, ready to make up another excuse - when his eyes alight on the box of condoms haphazardly ripped open lying in plain sight on the table in front of the other cowboy. 

Pointing what he hopes is a menacing finger at Teak - as menacing as it can be with suds sliding off the tip of it - he growls, ‘Not a single word from you, understand?’

Tequila flashes him a shit-eating grin. ‘C’mon, a thank you would be nice. I drove into town specially to get you those rubbers, you know. Did I get the sizing right, by the way? Not too loose?’

Jack resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. ‘How did you even -’

‘Like recognises like,’ winks Tequila.

Rolling his eyes, Jack turns back to the dishes and says, ‘Just get the fuck out of here before she wakes up.’

‘I can’t,’ he protests. ‘I gotta collect your dirty laundry and strip the beds. Bet I only need to strip one bed though.’

The front door whines on its hinges - it really needs a good oiling - as Jameson runs into the house, barking at the sight of Jack, who gives him a wet pat on the head. 

He freezes when he hears another door creak, but before he can sound the warning, you pad out of the corridor and into the living area in just his shirt, your eyes still squinty with sleep.

‘Did I just hear a dog -’ you stop abruptly in your tracks when you spot Tequila waving to you.

‘Mornin’ sweetheart,’ calls out Tequila with a two-fingered salute. He turns to Jack and pronounces, ‘Well, she hardly looks rode hard and put away wet, does she?’

You blink, your limited morning brain power preoccupied by Jameson, who’s shimmied up to you wagging his tail. Scratching him behind the ear, you try to muster a response to Tequila’s rather cryptic remark. ‘I mean, um, maybe not in so many words -’

Jack cuts in from across the kitchen. ‘Darlin’, do not answer that. It’s a southern sayin’ and he’s just tryin’ to wind you up.’

Tequila wriggles his eyebrows at you playfully. ‘Wind up the birthday girl? Never! Happy birthday, by the way. I’m guessing Jack showed you a good time?’

‘Get outta here, Teak!’

He surrenders with his palms up, vacating the kitchen table. ‘Alright, alright, no need to shout, Daniels. I’ll be back tomorrow then. If you decide to stay another night, just send a text,’ he pauses and gives you a suggestive wink. ‘We can always send a car to pick you up instead at the end of the week.’

Whistling at Jameson to follow, Tequila calls out over his shoulder in farewell. ‘Keep your saddle oiled and your gun greased!’

As the door shuts behind him, you burst into laughter. 

‘What the hell did he just say?’

The afternoon light filters through the half-drawn blinds over the bathroom window, casting shadows on the tiled floor that only grow longer as the lazy hours tick by. 

The water has long gone tepid, your plans for what was meant to be a quick bath alone derailed when Jack climbed in after you.

The condoms are in the bedroom, and neither of you are inclined to leave the tub, so he has you spread in his lap, your tits heaving just above the waterline. Bubbles cling to your nipples as Jack draws slippery circles on your clit, sucking hot kisses onto the side of your neck.

‘Harder, Jack. Mark me, please,’ you beg. His cock is hot and heavy in your hand, and you feel him twitch as your words hit home.

‘Yeah? Want me to fuckin’ brand you, darlin’?’ he growls into your ear before sucking on your skin so viciously that you cry out, thrusting his fingers into you as you start to cum. You stroke him harder, feeling him tense behind you before a violent shudder goes through his body, harsh breaths in your ear as he lets go. ‘That’s it, darlin’. So good for me, cummin’ so hard on my fingers like that while I mark you -’

You slump bonelessly into Jack’s chest when your high passes, and you tilt your head backwards so that he can kiss you fully on your mouth, tongues meeting languidly, your nails sliding into his wet hair to pull him closer.

Nose in your temple, he eyes the blooming hickey on the base of your neck with a deep grunt of satisfaction.

Jack’s voice is warm against the shell of your ear as he ambles up behind you, big palms leaning on the kitchen counter on either side of you. ‘Is it regressive of me to find the sight of you cookin’ very sexy?’

You smile, not looking up as you measure out the dried pasta. ‘It might just be that I’m wearing nothing underneath your shirt.’

You shriek when he draws up the hem to see that you’re not lying, ducking to press an open-mouthed kiss to the side of your naked hip before wrapping his arms around you.

‘What’s on the menu, chef?’ he asks, chin on your shoulder.

‘Carbonara,’ you answer, the ingredients you found laid out on the kitchen counter, along with the freshly cut parsley that Jack got from the garden.

‘With cream and peas?’ he asks dubiously.

You toss him a look over your shoulder. ‘Didn’t peg you for a pasta snob, cowboy.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m not sure who will want to wring your neck first - Poppy or the Italians.’

‘Good thing I can count on you to get me out of a spot of trouble, can’t I?’

‘Depends on how good that carbonara is,’ he teases, letting out an exaggerated oomph when you gently elbow him in the stomach in rebuke. He adds, ‘You didn’t have to cook, you know. I would’ve been happy to do it.’

‘You deserve a break,’ you say as you crack an egg for the sauce. You pause, the words caught in your windpipe as you hesitate. When they do come out, you don’t sound as nonchalant as you would’ve liked to. ‘And I wanted to show you that I can feed myself when you’re not around to cook for me, cowboy.’

It’s the first time any mention of what lies beyond this week has been articulated between you two. The air shifts, and for a split second, the unwelcome weight of reality suddenly looms over you, all-consuming - until you feel Jack shuffle on his feet behind you.

His calloused palms close over hands - you’ve completely overbeaten the egg mixture while your mind wandered - and you set the bowl and fork down, your restless fingers gripping the edge of the countertop instead. 

‘I have no doubt you will manage without me,’ he says, almost diplomatically.

But when his hands find your waist again, he holds you tighter.

Out on the deck, next to the stairs, stands a serious-looking telescope. Over the carbonara - a home run, by the way - you remind Jack he promised a couple of nights ago that he’ll show you the constellations. Warm from eating in front of the fire, you venture outside afterwards with just a thick blanket draped over Jack’s shirt, your legs bare from mid-thigh down.

But the cowboy’s not very inclined to keep his end of the bargain.

‘I could fuck you all day,’ he hums distractedly into your neck.

You roll your eyes fondly. ‘You have fucked me all day.’

‘I want to fuck you all day tomorrow, too.’

‘Cowboy -’

‘And the day after.’

 ‘Jack - ’

‘And the day after that.’

You know he doesn’t mean to, but your heart sinks at his casual mention of days after - how many more do you have left before it’s just… after? 

After this week.

After this trip.

After Wyoming.

After Jack.

You can hear the sands shifting. You can no longer tell the top of the hourglass from the bottom.

But you can’t dwell on that - not now. 

‘You said you’ll show me the stars, cowboy,’ you try to redirect the conversation as he slides a hand under the shirt and squeezes your breast. You arch into his touch - it is beyond your comprehension how your body is still responding after all that he’s tirelessly wrung out of it today.

‘Don’t worry, darlin’,’ he quips, his other hand delving underneath the layers to cup your bare pussy. ‘I’ll make sure you see stars, all right.’

Then he bends you over the white railing - the blanket discarded at your feet and your shirt hitched up around your waist - you faintly hear the clink of his belt buckle and the rustle of a condom packet before he’s pushing into your wet cunt. 

Your bottom lip stings as your teeth close over it, his fingers lacing with yours on the bannister as he thrusts into you. His moans fill your ears as you take him, his cock ramming into you so hard that you’re pinned to the railing on your tiptoes by the sheer force of his fucking.

‘You can be as loud as you want, darlin’,’ Jack coaxes. Facing the other way, you can’t see him, but you can almost hear his teeth grind as he fights to hold on. ‘Let me hear you, please, I need to hear you -’

He has you panting into the Wyoming night sky, the sweet sound of his name on your lips something that he will remember you by - months from now, when he sits on the porch on his lonesome, another cohort of strangers fast asleep in the bed that you two once shared on a crisp midsummer night.

Notes: It was so much fun writing Tequila into this chapter after Jack and Darlin' have had so much alone time together! I know this was quite a short chapter compared to what's come before, but I think a lot of my anxiety was actually coming from chapters running (which means more time and more editing), so I think we might be seeing more compact chapters from now on.

I'm thrilled to see so many new readers these few weeks, but I noticed that most only like the chapters. This is a gentle reminder that comments and reblogs are strongly encouraged ❤️ We writers put in so much of our free time on our fics, all we ask for is meaningful interaction to keep us going!

Horsey notes: I was googling Southern sayings that Tequila could deliver as a punchline, and ridden hard and put away wet was so perfect that I laughed out loud when I discovered it because it was so on-theme!

The phrase describes someone who looks unwell, and has a horsey origin. You never put a horse away wet if he's sweaty or washed down, they should always be towelled or brushed dry. This is covered in the last chapter when Darlin' scrapes Whiskey dry after hosing him down.

[staysuki]

rambling warning ,,, hope u dont mind 🥲🥲

SLC OVER 💔💔💔 i loved the story soso much !!!! Literally would check everyday if u updated cause this smau got me HOOOOOKED u wrote this story amazingly , I fell inlove with literally all the characters and their story ,, also may or may not have cried a few times reading it 😭😭😭 honestly had a feeling that y/n wasn’t gonna end up with anyone because idk i just didnt see it happening ?? But yeah HER AND HYUNE I LOVE THO (even if i was rlly rootitn 4 seungmin 💀but i knew that it was impossible 4 them to end up together) BIBI AND WONPILSHJhhzgzjsgj JAE AND NAYEOMSHjgzjzgsjhs ?:$.? JAKE AND RYUJIN 😩😩😩 so many couples , someone get seungmin a partner too poor dude ,,,,,, ALSO STOP WHEN HAN MESSGAED Y/N I HOT SO EXCITED??? 😭😭😭 i was literally just talking abt how crazy it would be if han came back and talked to y/n ( i was talking to myself abt slc yes i do it alot 💀) AND COINCIDENTALLY HE COMES BACK NEXT CHAPTER ?!?!?!?! also felix alive… and im kinda confused who the girl he was talking to is… 🤨🤨 maybe we’ll find out on his smau ( which im rlly excited for 🤩🤩 maybe we’ll know more abt him and his past who knows )bUT YEAH oversll im truly going to miss this series , i look forward to your other works <33 also let me just say it again , i love slc and all your other fics too !! Make sure to take care always and stay safe , cant wait to see what else u have in store for us ^_^ also let me just say same its kinda hard to take jooyeon seriously 😭😭 the dude is so funny 😭😭

yes rambles. i live for rambles.

this pretty much sums up the entire series—crying, screaming, excitement. i went through all those emotions trying to finish writing this series too 😀

but i'm glad you got hooked 🥰 i aim to make HDD even better (and more coherent lolz). probably won't have the same amount of complicated web theories because fuck that lmao.

and idk which girl you're talking about (y/n??). is it the one in the teaser? the one with jisung's texts? cuz if it's the one in the teaser, that would be bibi (slc sister)—she's the one who helped him from the car crash and helped him escape. those texts were sent a few months after SLC chapter 45 while HDD is set some time after SLC chapter 70. i tried to make sure no timelines get too messy. but yes, this is felix's smau now so we get to learn a lot about him 😮‍💨😤

also istg. i initially gave jooyeon a serious role but he ended up just making fun of it 🙄✨

anyways, thank you for tuning in! see u in hdd~