#miami shores florida

[goalhofer]

2023 Los Angeles Angels Famous Relations

#48 Reid Detmers: Son of former Springfield Capitals P Kris Detmers. #17 Ōtani Shōhei: Brother of Toyotajidōsha Higashinihon Kabushikigaisha coach Ōtani Ryuta. #35 Chad Wallach: Son of former Miami Marlins bench coach Tim Wallach. #8 Mike Moustakas: Nephew of former Chiba Lotte Umi Heitai coach the late Tom Robson. #16 McKenzie Moniak: Grandson of former Winston-Salem Red Sox CF Bill Moniak. #25 C.J. Cron; Jr.: Son of Oakland Athletics assistant hitting coach Chris Cron, 2nd cousin of former Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Yankees C Chad Moeller and brother of former SSG Randāsu 1B Kevin Cron. #27 Mike Trout: Son of former Orlando Twins 2B Jeff Trout. #44 Ben Joyce: Brother of Inland Empire 66ers P Zach Joyce. #33 Max Stassi: Great-nephew of former Gainesville G-Men RF the late Myril Hoag, son of former Shreveport Captains C Jim Stassi and brother of Jersey Shore BlueClaws hitting coach Brock Stassi. Manager Phil Nevin: Father of Toledo Mud Hens 3B Tyler Nevin & Rancho Cucamonga Quakes LF Kyle Nevin. Field coordinator Romar Gil: Father of Binghamton Rumble Ponies SS Mateo Gil. 1B coach Damon Mashore: Son of former Memphis Blues CF the late Clyde Mashore and brother of former New Orleans Babycakes hitting coach Justin Mashore.

[pinkandgoldensoul]

CS#55 || So? || oneshot

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If this is your first time here on this blog, please check the Disclaimers here.

pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc sister!reader (feat. charles leclerc!brother) genre: secret relationship, strangers to lovers, fluff, a bit of smut (minors DNI), angst tw: panick attack, brief mentions of death (Hervé), swearing other notes: relationship between Carlos and Charles SUCKS. Consider it out of character, if you will. (Check Disclaimers above) Also, on the desktop version (the themed one) some of the spacing formatting isn't working, so I suggest reading it on the regular page (does it make sense? the one with the blue background. Edit: nevermind, the formatting glitches everywhere. Just... pretend it is fine.) word count: 24.2k plot: what could possibly go wrong if you hooked up with a handsome man who you too late discover to be your brother's teammate after said brother had tried to keep your existence unknown to his colleagues?

Hope you enjoy it ♥ If you do, please let me know! Thanks in advance to whoever will like, reblog and comment!

3 new messages from Lando where are u? want to celebrate with you you were my lucky charm today

>>♥<<

A bored night in the warm breeze of May, laying on the sofa with eyes fixed upon your phone’s screen: it was all you needed to twist your life around completely. Not even the breathtaking scenery outside the glass window could cheer you up: palm trees absorbing the orange shades of the sun, the placid ocean roaring on the shore, the pavements brimming with people. Miami’s perpetual heat weakened your limbs and consumed them slowly and steadily.

Charles had invited you to the race in the USA, hoping that the nice weather and the lively nightlife of Florida would perk your interest. «I honestly can’t believe you’re not coming to the club with me, that’s rude.» «Lan, you know why…» To be fair, spending time with Charles should’ve been a valid reason itself to hop on board the plane, without subtle hints to help you choose. And yet, he knew you wouldn’t have accepted his offer as easily as your mother or your brothers would. «Yes, but jeez, you can’t hide forever…» «Charles won’t let me. He wants me for Imola and Monaco too.» «No way he convinced you to do that.» «He promised to pay for anything I want while travelling with him.» It rubbed you the wrong way, and he knew it; he was sorry not to see you on any of his weekends, and you knew it. «Oh, now it makes sense.» he pauses. «Must be sad to be alone, though.»

After you had landed in Miami, being the youngest and the newest of all Leclerc’s, those two days in the paddock had been a nightmare: you had been asked to release some interviews, always receiving absurd questions on your brother’s behavior towards you, as if you weren’t independent enough to take care of yourself. The trap was set. To which your reaction was hiding in the flat Charles had booked for you and at the same time dreaming of breaking the confinement. «Maybe I won’t be alone…» «Uh? What’s up?» Exiting your first serious and disastrous relationship – as if anyone could know how to handle another person’s feelings at 21 – you had decided to experiment and not settle to rigid ties anymore, opting for fling burners instead, inspired by the air of freedom and possibilities of Florida. «I’m currently… scoping the surroundings.» You had created a Tinder account for the purpose. Scared that someone, despite your brief appearance in the paddock, could recognize you somehow, you had added pictures in which it was almost impossible to tell your face features apart and you had transfigured your surname in Clerc, enough to get away with it. It was as easy as breathing: no strings attached only in the bio, search set on matches near you by location and swipes. Lots of them. As toxic as it could be, receiving so much approval enticed you greatly, but at the same time filled you with inexplicable sadness. You knew nobody was there to stay. «Need to search elsewhere when you have me? I’m not enough for you, am I?» Despite how boldly you had followed your proposition, you hadn’t acted on your folly yet. Sure, you had been texting with some guys, but nobody had conquered your attention well enough to really drop the talk and meet them in person. You simply craved someone to take notice of you and let you know. «Lan! Of course you’re enough, silly.» Because you had craved it all your life.

>>♥<<

Through the endless swiping of new faces that Miami offered you, spread on the couch, your half-closed eyelids suddenly batted open. Chili. Mmh. Weird nickname. Sus as heck. But boy, was he handsome. You kept staring at the photos of his card, and well… His facial features were barely visible, or not displayed all together at once – in one pic his lavishly thick hair, in another one his glossy eyes, in yet another one the plumpest and most inviting lips on earth… –, but you had quite made out his body, and it didn’t surprise you at all to read in his short bio that he was an athlete. «I could tell, honey.» you whispered to yourself, still bewildered. A pleased smile adorned your lips as you read the other lines of the bio. Just searching for some good fun, no commitment. All you wanted on a silver plate, right before your drooling heart. A rush of excitement cursed through your fingertips as you swiped right and immediately opened the chat, halting in search of the right words to type.

hey, nice to

What the fuck, it doesn’t have to be this awkward and formal. You pouted in reflection, then deleted and re-typed.

hey, want to hang out?

Too straightforward, it seems like you’re the neediest girl on earth…

love your profile, I’d like to get to know you more

And this is just pathetic. Clingy and stalkerish when he asked for no commitment. You huffed in frustration and threw your arm over your eyes to conceal the hard truth: your inexperience and naivety wasn’t to be changed overnight by downloading a dating app. Looking back at the phone, you were ready to spend another hour figuring out what to say, when you noticed a new text on the chat.

are you free to hang out tonight?

Straightforward would’ve been fine, after all. Because the bluntness and directness of his text shook you deeply within, pulling strings of yearning, curiosity and utmost fascination.

yes, ofc > can i at least know your real name? cause i don’t think it’s Chili, right?

You saw his typing dots.

Carlos let’s meet at the Regent at 9

Panicking on Google Maps to search for the address, you saw another notification pop.

the dress code is quite elegant, but i’m sure you’ll wear something nice both for yourself and for me as well can’t wait to meet you

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

> me too

>>♥<<

You tried to relax your muscles under the hot night breeze, as the sun still lingered on the horizon before setting down. Nervousness stuck the dress on your skin, as much as it dried your mouth and throat. Your only shield: sunglasses. Wearing them at any time of the day was a habit you had unknowingly inherited by Charles. As soon as he had picked it up, he had bought you – well, gifted you, since he had an awfully huge collection of them – a pair of Ray Ban’s for your birthday. Whenever you two would hang out together, not often, and he’d invite you aboard his Sedici yacht during the summer break, at the sight of those sunglasses his lips would stretch in his unmistakable dimpled smile.

The walk on the pavement seemed endless and a thousand thoughts crossed your scattered mind: years and years of recommendations from Lorenzo thrown to the wind only to hang out with the first guy met online. Not even met: just let him do the talk on his own and had you wrapped around his finger.

Your sandals moving in shorter steps as you approached the lounge bar, you eyed a standing figure, casually leaning near the entrance, whose small smile momentarily melted your knot of anxiety. Carlos didn’t even give you time to greet him and take in his overwhelming presence that he placed his hand on the small of your back, gently but somehow already intimately, directing you towards the entrance. «Sorry, I’ll explain later. Let’s get inside.» «Sure!» Your voice betrayed the attempt at sounding confident with its squeakiness. Mentally facepalming yourself for it, you couldn’t stray your gaze away from his hypnotizing features: he seemed older than what you had thought while observing his profile pictures (and you had consumed them with staring, so it definitely wasn’t due to lack of attention) and he exuded a timeless charm quite inexplicable.

As soon as he asked the waiter about his – therefore yours – reservation, you were both given room and led to an inner area of the bar, way quieter and with fewer tables crowding it. He pulled the chair for you, like a true gentleman, and took a seat, grinning wide as you both settled. «Sorry for the hurry, I didn’t mean to sound rude.» «No need to apologize!» you quickly hushed, already blushing by the proximity. «And sorry if I asked you to hang out with no warning, but I’m leaving tomorrow morning and… I definitely needed to meet you first, y/n.» The name and the thick Spanish accent had sparked the thought, but his words were a confirmation Carlos was probably in Miami by chance, as much as you were. «Well, I’m leaving tomorrow too, don’t worry. And I wouldn’t have accepted if I didn’t want to be here.»

You exchanged a delighted stare, while going through the menu in search of your cocktail order and, consequently, of relief. Though, the pleasant tension you had felt, like a string pulling you to him, as soon as you had seen him, had gradually disappeared and had left space to a growing sense of ease, almost familiarity: words, together with the liquid content of your drinks, flowed without interruptions, and you touched a wide variety of topics, always finding yourselves on the same page. «Thank you for choosing a quiet place. My moves are constantly watched…» you sighed. «I came here last year and I really enjoyed how chilled out it is. Makes me relax.» Carlos leaned back into his chair, so that his collarbones immediately popped under his tanned flesh. «So you’re always chased too?» «Not as much as my brother, but yes.» «Is it because of him? Is he known?» «More than known, yes.» you smiled. «My life is reserved, compared to his.» Carlos took a sip of his drink with a sympathetic smile. «Would you prefer a quieter life?» he asked. You raised your glass, lost in thought. «Maybe, but that would mean my brother isn’t successful anymore, so no. I really can’t complain about my life, I’m… lucky.» you pulled a small smile. «I wish I were as grateful as you are.» Carlos sighed, and his resignation intrigued you. «Should you be?» «Oh, yeah, I think so.» he took another long sip, then wetting his lips clean. «But I’ve had paparazzi around me since I was young and I can’t bear the media’s attention anymore.» «There’s nothing wrong with that. You shouldn’t feel forced to gratitude.» you calmly prompted.

His pupils were quite enlarged, you noticed, and glazed with softness: your hand was laid close to his, almost at a fingertip’s distance, and for a moment you both glanced down at them, craving the same touch and connection your minds and feelings had experienced. It had only been half an hour since you had crossed The Regent’s threshold guided by Carlos’ hand and you were already perceiving a mutual tenderness none of you anticipated nor searched for, and which you now couldn’t let go of even if you tried. After chuckling to each other at the miserable sight of your emptied glasses, you both agreed to order a second round of cocktails, which flowed effortlessly down your throats as a sweet-toned conversation left your tongues. You learned about his passion for most sports, laughing and being entertained by his anecdotes, only to feel flustered by his sudden questions about you.

Finally, after staring satisfied and content at each other, Carlos asked for the bill, which he insisted on paying. Waiting for it, you hummed to the music playing inside the cozy lounge bar. He frowned, clearly amused. «Do you like this song?» he asked. «Of course I do? Who doesn’t?» You light-heartedly mouthed him smooth operator as Sade’s voice sang the chorus, moving along to the beat. Carlos couldn’t stray his eyes away from your enchanting figure and acknowledged how smitten he had already become after only a casual talk. He honestly wouldn’t believe you were only searching for a good time as he was. Apart from looking desperately beautifully young, you had a cheerful glee in your manners, a youthful spark inside your eyes which lured him in way more than he would’ve liked. He had given up on his wicked intents as soon as you had cheered him down the street with your flustered smile; he had been soft and warm for you already before sitting at your booked table. He had enjoyed talking with you more than he’d had with any past fling. He could tell you were someone different, someone to be treated with care, somehow; and the biggest surprise was that he didn’t mind at all undertaking such a delicate task.

After paying the bill, Carlos got up right away, implicitly inviting you to do the same. «Come, I want to show you a place.» Taking your sunglasses in your fingers and lightly fidgeting with them, a smile still lingered on your lips from the thrill of conversation. «Where?» Carlos grinned, placing his hand on yours to stop the nervous work on the Ray Ban’s temples. «Do you trust me?» His touch sent your whole body in trance and sudden anticipation of further exposure all at once, like a rush. Was it okay to trust a stranger? And on top of that, a devilishly handsome one? Was it okay to let him guide you God knows where in a foreign country with the darkness of the night approaching? You nodded. «Yes.» «Let’s go, then.» And with a swift move, he took the sunglasses out of your loosened grab, wearing them on, leaving you breathless as the thicker frame fitted his masculine features stunningly.

The botanical garden was barely ten minutes away from The Regent, making it pleasant to walk under the setting sun of Miami. To your surprise, some areas of the garden were empty, so that your quiet stroll with Carlos felt like an intimate travel in astonishing oases of peace, silence and chirping birds, drowned in the relaxing green of leaves. You walked alongside, so close and so slow that your hands were always on the verge of touching, until you both naturally reached to the other and sealed them in a secure hold. You smiled, buzzing with warmth. As sun rays cut through the leaves and chased your figures, you couldn’t help but be caught in staring at Carlos’ glowing skin while he was talking. «Have you ever been to Spain?» «No, never.» you shook your head. «You need to come, for sure. The weather is even better than Florida.» His genuine, happy grin made one burst on your face too, suddenly blinded by a sun beam. «You should visit Monaco, then.» you replied with pride. «You mean the Principality?» «Yes. I live there.» «Too bad I’ve already planned to move there months ago.» You stared at him, shook. How many chances were there? «And now that I know you live there, I’ve got another good reason to hurry up.» You eye rolled, flustered, brushing your upper arms in a poor attempt to dust off the cozy, warm feelings blooming in your chest. «Can’t wait.» you murmured, smiling.

Abruptly, Carlos stopped as you were crossing a small wooden bridge inside the garden, facing you and gazing low to your intertwined fingers. The soft rocking sound of water and the inebriating smell of night descending on Florida slowed the flow of time. «I, uhm… I’m going to be one hundred percent honest with you.» he began. «I really like you. This is the most fun I’ve had with someone without having to get naked since a long time.» Carlos kept caressing your fingers with his, flickering his eyes back and forth from yours to your hands. «I know that you probably expected something different from tonight…» «No, it was perfect.» you stepped in. «Indeed, it was.» Carlos smiled, still shyly looking down. «But my job makes me really busy. As much as I’d like to spend more days with you and enjoy moments together, I’m constantly travelling across the world and… I don’t want you to think I don’t care.» «I wasn’t-» «And I don’t want to force you to follow me everywhere I go, especially because we both would be exposed to the media and… I guess we’re both tired of it.» «We… we don’t need to go at full speed. We can try to keep in contact the times you are available. There’s no rush.» you suggested, leaning a bit nearer.

Only then you realized how close you had got, Carlos’ starry eyes boring into yours. «Don’t you feel an urge?» he asked, husky. «I think I do.» you simply managed to breathe out, a bit shaky. «But I have no problems in waiting, and we’ll meet up whenever-» It rained on your mouth, a waterfall of bliss and honey through the touch of his plump lips: instead of releasing a pent-up tension, it sharpened the yearn, hands searching for a place of belonging and rest on your respective bodies. «I’ll text you every day.» he said in between the kiss. «Don’t make promises you can’t keep.» you chuckled. «I always keep my word. You’ll learn to know me.» «Such a lover boy.» you whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

>> 2 new messages from Lando so did you hook up? > hottest man alive, but we only kissed lame >> 2 new messages from Chili🌶

look who’s with me

You gaped, an immediate grin spreading on your lips.

guess when you’re seeing them again

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

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

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

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

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

have you planned anything for me?

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

     > you bet

«Never mind.» «No, mom, I’ll do it, give me the knife!» you whined, stuffing your phone in your pocket. She immediately smiled at you, a glint of curiosity and mischief not going unnoticed to your trained eye. «Who was it?» she chirped. «Lando.» «Oh, how is he doing?» «Good.» Your phone buzzed as new notifications popped in, wearing your nerves so thin you had to quickly take it out the pocket and put it on silent. «Eager to talk to you, uh?» «What?» you rapidly turned your head to her. «Lando. It’s him texting you, right?» You didn’t know, but something told you your cheeks were flushed, indeed, that they had been all along since you had stepped next to the kitchen counter. A picture. What if Lando could recognize Carlos, being into sports more than you were? What if Carlos didn’t want to be shown around, after the privacy talk you had shared?

>> 1 new message from Lando want to judge myself      > gatekeeping his beauty from your unholy mind > sorry

>>♥<<

During lunch, you stayed pretty much silent, always taking the chance to clear plates and bring them to the sink so that you could check your phone, unnoticed.

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

You stared at the bottom of the sink.

it’ll be just us no paparazzi shit

Plopping an apricot on the pottery fruit basket, you glanced outside the window above the sink, a line of gray clouds aligned at the horizon, casting a dark shadow onto Monaco’s corner of sea.

You placed the pottery full of fruits in the middle of the dining table and took a seat. Charles swiftly grabbed an apple and unapologetically gave it a big bite, making everyone chuckle at his antics. Everyone, but you. «So…» he said, still chewing. «Ready for Sunday? The forecast says it’s going to be sunny all day.» «Can we ride watercrafts this time? I don’t want to lay on the deck for twelve hours.» Arthur chimed in. «Yes, of course.» Charles nodded, taking another bite. «But I’d do that in the afternoon, when the sun isn’t too bright.» «Deal. We need to organize a watercraft race!» «I know, right? What about-» «I don’t think I’m coming.» Charles, who was seated right in front of you, stopped chewing and gave you an expressionless glance. «Why not?» «I think I got a sunburn in Miami and I don’t want it to get worse.» Charles’ left eyebrow quickly raised in annoyance, then he shook his head to himself. «I don’t believe it, but you’re free to stay home.» he said monotone. «I won’t stay home.» you said quiet, but still somehow assertive. At this point, everyone at the table – Lorenzo, Alexandra and Pascale included – were staring at you in anticipation, trying to decipher your words. «I’m going to Provence for the weekend.» Charles scoffed, taking another huge bite out of frustration. «You’ll spend two days hiding under a rock, then, if you really want to avoid sun exposure there.» «Charles…» Pascale tried to warn him. He bored his eyes into yours, so that you read right away his disappointment painted in bold letters. «Some days I feel like I don’t have a sister at all.» As your mother scolded him again, you could see drops of venom fall from his lucid lips, as he had stabbed a full syringe of it right in the middle of your chest, which had caused you to abruptly stand up, hands on the table, eyes wide like a mad woman. «And I’ve been feeling without a brother every fucking day of my life, Charles.» Lorenzo intercepted your arm as you fled to your room, getting up and chasing you but not fast enough to stop your march; he was met with the cold, white wood of your door like a slap on his face, still pleading you to open it. A simple hiccupped sigh, tears pricking your eyes. Vision blurry, you took your phone.

can we leave earlier than Saturday?

You spent the evening crouched on the bed, feet pressing the duvet, fighting feelings away. It haunted you all at once, as it usually would: breaths would pick up the pace, matching your scattered thoughts, heart beating loud. Lorenzo had knocked on your door several times throughout the evening, while you overheard a constant muffled talk in the living room, sure of the discussion your dramatic departure had ignited. It was still a fresh wound. It still bled through the skin. Never having your father nor your brother aside when it mattered. Lorenzo had tried to suffice, being the eldest; he probably was the only one who had seen you breakdown before, the one able to at least take your loneliness into consideration. Out of all the people in the house, he was the one to patiently check in on you in the darkest hour of the night, knowing you’d be still awake. He was the one who hugged you and hid your sighs with reassurances, among your broken “I can’t do it”, the one to cup your wet cheek while sitting on the bed. As every other night. «Please, let me leave this weekend, I don’t want to come…» you chanted, like a prayer. «Of course you can go, no one said you can’t. It’s all good.» The one to cradle you, to caress your messy hair, to cuddle you to sleep in your twin bed. >>♥<<

You landed in Jerez on Thursday, around midday. Crossing the exit of the airport with your suitcase in hand, you got swamped with a wave of heat. Sun shining way too bright for your eyes to keep open, you placed a hand on your forehead, shielding them, so that you could spot Carlos’ car more easily. It was hard; indeed, he hadn’t chosen anything fancy like most sportsmen do, but opted for something low-key instead. Once you had caught sight of Carlos’ luscious hair and silhouette at the driving seat, you confidently walked towards the car, quite surprised to see it was barely decent and clean. Without hesitation, you loaded your suitcase and took the passenger seat, throwing an inquisitive glance. «Couldn’t you find anything nicer than this… car wreck?» He chuckled. «You’ll see why we need it.» In a flash, Carlos leaned over to grab your seatbelt and put it on for you: he seized the chance to linger a few inches from your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. «I missed you.» «It’s been barely a week!» you giggled. Since he still hadn’t moved away, you cupped his cheeks and left another quick peck on his lips, being too adorable and handsome not to. «But I missed you too.» you added, soft. «That’s what I wanted to hear.» he whispered with a grin. And with that, he finally put on your seatbelt, ready to switch the engine on.

The road was a lonely stripe in the middle of burned-yellow lands, hills and the smallest villages punctuating the view. You pointed out all the Spanish flags you could see, amused, letting your arm wander in the warm air outside the window. After more or less an hour of travelling from the airport, when the street started to get uphill and quite bumpy, you rapidly understood Carlos’ vehicle choice. «Where are we going?» you beamed. «Be patient, we’re almost there.» You reached a crossroads: you could either keep driving uphill or follow down a path on foot. Carlos parked the car in the small space available before the fork. «C’mon, let’s go.» he gestured. «But we’re in the middle of nowhere!» you protested, getting out of the car. Carlos opened the trunk and took your suitcase, snatching it before you could even imagine carrying it yourself. «And what do you think this is?» You raised your eyes up to the point he indicated and your jaw dropped: right at the side of the crossroads, there was a beautiful one-store small villa, with huge glass windows and a skillfully-made path of stones leading up to the entrance door. The white tint of the walls gave a sense of freshness and broadness, paired up with the same simplicity achieved through its squared forms. Carlos approached the small gate, taking a pair of keys from his pocket. «Is it for us?» you asked, dumbfounded. «Of course.» he stated matter-of-factly. Still struck by the beauty of the landscape – the sea roaring behind your back, the hill dominating it from above – you hurried up behind Carlos, following the stoned path.

«We’re staying here because this way we’re closer to the beach and to another place I’ll show you on Sunday.» «Good, because I almost only packed swimwear, as you’ve told me.» You both chuckled. Eyes still wandering around the room, enamored with the designing choices – warm and light tones both for the wallpaper and the furniture – you then ultimately placed your stare back on Carlos’ towering figure, inevitably feeling a burst of excitement and thrill. Before you could move an inch closer to him, he cleared his throat. «Come, I’ll show you the rest of the house.» The shower in the bathroom made you want to strip naked and immediately get the best out of its luxury: black stones, golden details, a small basket full of products only awaiting usage; a huge mirror above the modern-styled sink. «I’m going to spend hours in here, I’m telling you.» you said, still in awe. Carlos laughed whole-heartedly. «I can’t blame you.» You then walked into the bedroom, first noticing the king-sized bed; then, a huge, curtained glass window caught your attention, pushing you to get close and unveil the breathtaking scenery concealed behind it. «That’s the beach we’ll go to.» Carlos said, still standing at the door frame. You turned your head to him, lips slightly parted. «Carlos, this is… It’s incredible, thank you so much.» He walked over to you, smiling in delight, guiding you back into the sightseeing pose with his hands, gently. «Thanks to you for accepting.» he said, low-toned. Maybe it was May’s bright sun making heat creep up your cheeks, or maybe it was Carlos’ touch on your burning skin; maybe you hadn’t lied to Charles when you had said you had got a burn in Miami, a severe one, something not to overlook, because Carlos was drowning you in explosive helium, and the same reckless rush had ignited you both, bringing you under the hot sky of Spain. And now that you were hypnotized by his overwhelming presence, you could only search for his eyes in the reflection of the window, gulping as you noticed he was doing the exact same. The vision of his fingers dancing on your skin hit you deeper than the mere tactile perception, as if you had just become aware of the tantalizing movement on your arm. You saw Carlos’ face fade away from the reflection and felt suddenly naked, deprived of his touch. As an immediate reaction, you turned around to keep looking at him, something you couldn’t do without anymore. «As you can see, there’s only one bed. If you don’t feel comfortable sleeping together…» «No, Carlos, of course I want to sleep with you.» you blurted out in a rush, only to mentally facepalm for the unintended pun. He smirked, both amused and finding your embarrassment endearing. «Happy to know that.»

>>♥<<

There was something that either you had miscalculated or that Carlos had carefully taken into consideration while organizing the trip, something you hadn’t thought about while packing your favorite swimsuits and bikinis, alongside sarongs and summer dresses: that you’d be both almost completely naked, all day. After spending the morning in the cool, crystal-clear water, during the hottest hours you would drop back home to eat something on the fly – and change into a dry swimsuit –, then running back to the beach in the afternoon to walk hand in hand ‘til the sun set on the fine sand of the shore.

The first day was a nightmare. You both felt a rush of electricity run through you whenever you’d touch by chance, while swimming in the waves or passing a towel to the other; you were always feasting on each other’s bodies, almost shamelessly, driven by exasperation; you’d obsessively remind each other to wear sunscreen, so that you could either give help with spreading it over or enjoy one’s hands doing what the other’s craved. The only relief to the unbearable closeness was a profound, endless, affectionate conversation. Answers, follow-up questions, anecdotes, some common trivia about each other; you’d say the yearn for the physical was only a manifestation of a deeper emotional longing.

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

After hours of fast-paced teasing, the way your lips met in a kiss was slow, intimate; he brushed your hair with unexpected tenderness while deepening the kiss, getting to taste more of the sweetness he had drunk. «It’s just us.» he whispered again, tilting his head on the opposite side.

A soft wind rolled shivers on your skin as much as his hands settling on your waist and gently squeezing it did; heart about to burst out of your chest, you pressed both your hands on his cheeks, to keep him steady on you, not to let go of the sweet pleasure of closeness. It was only you and him on the beach, as the sun sank in the sea to let you two enjoy each other’s embrace: Carlos had spread one hand on your back, radiating a warm tingling feeling in your stomach as he slowly guided you to lie down on the bath towel beneath you. Despite the thought having lingered in the air, untold, for long, you couldn’t let yourself be bothered by where the night was leading, too pleasantly overwhelmed by his swift and yet careful moves.

Only when Carlos grazed your neck and you were lulled by his sharp inhales and his fanning breath over you, only when the bulge of his damp swimsuit involuntarily met your core causing you to grip a curl of his thick hair with your lips parted in bliss, only then you realized he was invading your entire space and driving your senses in tilt with too many feelings to process and to give into. You moaned, helpless, as he brushed over your core once again. Carlos halted, his dark irises contrasting with the white of the sclera even more, as his eyes were wide open; his chest, you noticed, heaved with an impatience that matched your own, electricity running through both your bodies. He had forced himself to stop. What are you waiting for?, a part of him said; and it was the impulsive one, the needy, the greedy, the one which had reached out for you in the Tinder matches only a week ago. The one which had him palming himself while staring at your pictures, anticipating the meeting with lust; the one that almost lost control by breathing in your scent after a few days he hadn’t seen you as he put the seatbelt on for you. But then, another part of him had put the hand brake. The one which had felt a soft spot for you when you laughed at the bar listening to his jokes, the one that cherished you like a treasure meant to be preserved pure and rare in its beauty, the one that would hang from your lips and comply with your pace, your desire.

You stared at each other for seconds which seemed eternity; you caught every single movement of Carlos’ body, attentive like a deer observing the predator’s actions. He wetted his lips, he flicked his eyes elsewhere before being drawn on you, this time with a softer gaze. His scent inebriated you as he leaned towards you, getting so close you could feel your own heart beating on the very edge of your skin, drawn like a magnet to Carlos. The concert of quickened breaths and pants blacked out the distant grating roar of the sea: your rhythm, your frequency, your tune was his to dictate.

As his hot breath signaled how he had got dangerously close to your ear, you kept your fingers intertwined in his hair, your entire body trembling in anticipation. «I want you.» His husky voice sent a violent shiver down your arching back, so deep in desire that your eyelids half-closed, fighting the instinct to push Carlos’ head on your neck to finally unleash his teasing. He had waited, he had thought about keeping you that close since the first time you had seen each other: and still he had refrained from acting on his selfish needs, and he had crafted instead the most alluring trap for you, making it impossible to untangle from him. Not that you wanted to. You didn’t know how you had both been able to fall so heavily in love in less than a week, but it had happened out of your notice, and with his tanned torso occupying all your senses – hot and full to the touch, a light veil of his cologne lingering on it despite the sea salt – there was no way to take a step back. Carlos couldn’t either. Not with your skin palpitating before his eyes, before his lips, so kissable, so perfectly laid out for him to nibble at, to mark and stain with passion. «Fuck, I need you…» You were in too deep. Your breath hitched at his husky tone. «Carlos…» His lips brushing yours with a circling motion, teasing them with a gut-wrenching delay, he whispered again honey-laced words. «Tell me you want it as much as I do, please…»

Without time to answer, mumbling another desperate please, he sealed his request with a kiss, which immediately became sloppy and messy due to your impatient bodies pressing onto the other, grabbing, exploring, roaming for pleasure. Lost in the kiss, you couldn’t tell whether it was Carlos rubbing his hard-on you or you desperately searching for friction through the damp layers of your swimsuits. However it might be, the result was the same: it had you whining and moaning, feeling the first stone-cold fabric warming through your throbbing cores, once rubbing couldn’t soothe the ache anymore. Carlos’ groan told you he felt the same way.

He couldn’t wait any more second: his body, mind and soul craved you all at once with the same disrupting force. Looking around, hurriedly rummaging with one hand in the pocket of his dismissed trousers, he sighed in frustration, placing his forehead upon yours. «I don’t have condoms here, for fuck’s sake…» he breathed out, a mix of disappointment and apology in his tone. You brushed his cheek, half hiding a smile. «But I promise I have them in the house. When we go back-» You pressed your pointer finger on his lips to interrupt him. «I’m on the pill.» Carlos’ eyes widened in realization, and despite being pulled by a nosy curiosity as to why you were on birth control, his arousal got the best of him and cut short any feasible matter.

He had captured your lips back in another messy kiss, slow-paced, open-mouthed, and his fingers had immediately rushed to teasingly push down your bottom swimsuit, tracing your folds with the thick wetness he was welcomed by. He growled into the kiss as soon as he noticed how turned on you were, feeling his own cock stir once more inside his swim trunks; with another groan, he left your glistening lips, smirking, and you understood why the moment his digits found your clit. You couldn’t control a half-screamed moan. «Nobody can hear us. I want you to be louder, baby.» As he rubbed you with his thumb slow and steady, your mind disconnected and stopped working properly: it was just him, his fingers making you mewl and his bulge against your bare thigh.

Carlos’ stare was unbearable: it was so filled with lust you had to stray away not to feel a hotter wave of heat on your reddened cheeks, to shut your eyes in bliss, to look down at his hand disappearing under your bikini. And if only you could’ve sustained his eyes for more than a few seconds, you would’ve noticed how he was struggling as well. Eight years of age gap. Sure, he still had to turn thirty, but… «Please, Carlos… I need to- GOSH!» you cried out. «Use your words, love. What do you need?» Maybe he was rushing it just for his own yearning, without taking you into much consideration. Not even a week after meeting each other for the first time and already hitting the fourth base… «Fuck, I need your fingers inside… Oh, please!» you moaned, tilting your head to the side. Or maybe he was simply complying to your desires as well. «Like this?» After all, you had already proved him that you weren’t a naïve little girl: your talks, your constant teasing (well thought-out, thanks to your provocative swimsuits), the way you hadn’t seem shocked or scared by his maneuvers but, quite the opposite, thrilled and longing for them. You were both on the same wavelength. «Ah, fuck me… Fuck!» What was he supposed to do now? Now that you were a whimpering mess under his expert fingers, now that he had you right where he had needed you to be since the first moment – below him, legs open for him, nipples tensed and visible under the top of your bikini, begging for your release –, now that he had the green light, it took a while to realize he could go for more without risking being turned down. «Carlos, please…» Spaced out, he had raised back on his knees, and you had started panting out of breath at both the sudden lack of contact and at the scene before you, his hands slowly pulling down his trunks. He was taken over by an unexplainable aplomb, moving carefully but surely at the same time, precise as a sniper in brushing your most sensitive spots: his calm had the opposite effect on your body, shaking in desire, swollen and aching, and you gripped his back once he leaned over you, his tip teasing your entrance.

>>♥<<

Your second day in southern Spain was spent in Carlos’ arms. Stirring after a night of sleep next to him, mattress and sheets still warm, you had felt his boner pressing on your thigh, as you had cuddled together all night. After exchanging the most adorable sleepy grin with him, you hadn’t hesitated to take the matter in your own hands. Neither had Carlos: less than a minute in, frustrated by how poorly he could pleasure you while lying next to you upright, he had quickly ordered you to sit on his face, so that he could grab your thighs, squeeze them tight in place whenever you’d try to shift away from his skillful tongue. He learned you quickly, cracking your body’s code after that abundant breakfast in bed; spending yet another morning on Playa de el Cañuelo, enjoying the vibrant shades of the sea water, wetting your ankles while sitting on the shore, eyes closed in delight and sunbathing, you didn’t expect you’d soon learn his.

At lunch, as usual, you both refuged back in the villa, welcomed by a cooler temperature. While preparing two bowls of salad, you felt a pair of hands sliding on your skin, rolling up your sarong to toy with the two nods holding the bottom of your bikini together. Before you could even realize, the feast had begun, as you moaned his name gripping the marble counter while he thrusted into you with one single stroke. Nibbling, biting and open-mouthed kisses were tell-tale signs of your mutual hunger, which Carlos’ cock satiated by providing you with a sickly-sweet full sensation, your stomach being filled with him. Out of impatience and urge, Carlos had satisfied his own leaning back onto the edge of the kitchen table and dragging you back with him through the firm hold he had on your hips, rocking you back and forth with ease and speed. You were now sure the sunburn had got severe, it had caused a fever: and Carlos was both the rays and the refreshing after-sun lotion, sliding on your skin, penetrating it, nourishing it from within.

>>♥<<

The surprise he had warned you about came on Sunday late afternoon. «Ready for a walk?» He had waited for the heat to be less intense, making it pleasant to stroll undisturbed hand in hand on a dirt path next to Playa de el Cañuelo, which went up the hill, amongst the bushes. From up there, you looked back to the beach and caught a magnificent glimpse of the view: the sea seemed even broader and distant, roaring onto the shore. Carlos stopped with you to enjoy the sight, reading into your sparkling eyes. «Let’s go, we’re almost there.»

You had been walking roughly for ten minutes, when you reached a crossing: the dirt left room to a wooden walkway with railing, leading back down to the jagged coast. «Este es el Faro de Camarinal.» «This is what?» you giggled. «Faro means lighthouse.» Holding hands and playing push and pull like two kids, you stared at Carlos’ lips closely as to replicate the Spanish words rolling off them, since he was determined to teach them to you. «Faster, now.» «I can’t! It’s impossible, you’re too quick.» «Try.» You both chuckled at each other, taken over by exhilaration for no particular reason but closeness. «Faro… Faro de Marinal?» «Camarinal.» «Faro de Camarinal.» Grinning at you, he let go of one of your hands to guide you towards the lighthouse once again, letting your steps resonating through the wooden boards. «Better. You improve very quickly.» «Are you planning on teaching Spanish to me already?» You both stopped in front of an old metallic door at the base of the lighthouse, on which a sign hung off: prohibido el paso. «You know me so well and yet it hasn’t even been a month since we’ve met.» «You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.» «It just amazes me.» he looked at you. «You amaze me.» The orange glow of the sunset warmed your cheeks, forcing you to suppress a smile after hearing Carlos’ comment. «Let’s go.» «But we can’t. Isn’t this a prohibition sign?» «It is. But nobody ever comes here and it’s completely safe to go inside.» He then proceeded to open the door, which was loosely closed, and invited you to step in, offering his hand to you given your reticence.

After carefully going upstairs being wary of any danger, you came at the top panting a bit, but the view managed to leave you wholly breathless: the sea, the glimmering of the distant waves due to the sun diving in and swimming in the golden water. «I used to come here when I was a kid.» «Did you come to this beach during holidays?» «Yes. This was the refuge I’d run to when my mom showed up to tell me we had to go back home.» You lowered your gaze and smirked, hit by the tenderness of the memory. «Is this a way to say you wish this trip didn’t end today?» «It is. And I also wanted to show you my favorite spot in Spain.»

You both engaged in sightseeing, Carlos hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder for a while, as he had grown accustomed to doing in those three days; you brushed his arms as he enveloped your waist, feeling cozy and happy in the embrace. Softly, gently, like a dance, he reached for the ribbon of your white swim dress and began undoing it, while you both imperceptibly moved your bodies to the rhythm of your hands. «This swimsuit is the best you’ve brought on this trip.» Carlos whispered in your ear. «Glad you like it… It was meant to be my small surprise for you.» «Let me unwrap it so that I can get my real surprise, then…»

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

You paced back and forth inside your bedroom, grinning wide as if Lando could ever see the sparkling magic in your eyes as you were telling him minute by minute everything about the sweet romanticism that had gone down during the trip. He had called you because he knew would like to vent and extenuate him with every single detail of that perfect, dreamy vacation. «Of course I do, but I want you to embarrassedly say it out loud so that you know how down bad you are.» You heavily sighed, knowing he was smirking by the tone of his voice. «Okay.» You licked your lips, biting your lower lip as the memories hit you. «We made love.» «Oh, wow, made love? Please, you’ll talk to me about making love when you’re an elder or something.» You chuckled, too embarrassed to reply with anything else. «So… I guess it was good.» Lando said. «It was out of this planet. It was dizzying, and he was just… perfect.» «Did he make you cum?» he quickly added. «LANDO!» you gaped, eyes bewildered. «’m just asking.» Sitting down on your bed, fingers fidgeting with a loosened thread of the comforter, your thoughts kept swimming in the sea of those recalled moments. You couldn’t help but realize that with Carlos everything had spiraled out of control. From complete strangers to lovers in a week. And the scariest thing to acknowledge was that it felt right, all along. Like puzzle pieces, you fitted seamlessly and now that you both had tangled up, there was no chance of ripping: you would text each other every other hour, hoping new opportunities to hang out together would arise, longing for connection after having discovered your new favorite pastime was looking in the eyes and talk. The mere thought of the proximity you had experienced warmed your cheeks again. «Yes, he did. Multiple times, if you’re interested!» «Weird that you think I’m interested, but okay.» Lando giggled. «Glad to hear you’re happy, though.» «Yeah, I just feel at ease around him.»

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

You paused once again, not really sure how to continue the conversation and pondering whether you should add anything in your detailed report to Lando. You heard him humming briefly, signaling he wanted to speak up again. «When… When will you see each other again?» As soon as Lando ended the question, your fingers harshly twisted the thread they had been holding, while you were still looking down at the bed. «I don’t know… he’s busy this week, and I’m coming to Imola with Charles, so definitely not as soon as we’d like.» «Well, you should invite him to Monaco for the Grand Prix, if he’s free. He’s a sportsman, he would enjoy it.» «Invite him so that you can pester him with questions and my whole family can disapprove of both him and me? Or you want us to get caught in a storm of paparazzi and twitter threads of how irresponsible Leclerc’s little defenseless sister is?» Lando tsked and you could almost see his brows knitting in frustration. «Don’t try to steal my job and make it a big deal when things are that simple. You love each other? Yes. Then no one can say a thing. But even if you two were just fucking around, I mean…» he paused. «You should be free to hang out with whoever. It’s nobody’s business.» «It isn’t only about me, Lan… I think he would get in bigger trouble than I would. It seems like in his sport everything is blown out of proportion.» «A man who understands the struggle.» Lando added, bittersweet. «But what is all this secrecy anyway? I don’t trust someone who can’t even tell you what he does for a living.» «Lan, I just could tell he was being honest… Plus, he really looks like an athlete.» «And couldn’t you tell which sport he practices by his body shape?» «No, he’s really fit overall, there’s no prominent feature.» you shook your head. «He told me that he loves cycling, but usually riders have a smaller frame, right? I have no clue, Lan.» «Guess you just love some mystery man, don’t you?» Lando was grinning, you could tell. «Well, I haven’t told him everything about me either, so it’s only fair…» you breathed out. «I’m so scared of his reaction when he finds out about my family…» «You make it sound like you’re the daughter of an Italian mafia boss.» «You know what I mean by that…» «Yeah, I do. And you know that I think it’s silly.» You paused, gaze still down, in reflection. «It’s going to be fine. Stop overthinking, you little muppet.»

>>♥<<

Earphones plugged in, you scrolled through some of the pics you had taken with Carlos on Playa de el Cañuelo only a couple of days earlier. The sand between your toes, the warm breeze, the sun kissing your skin already felt like a thin memory and the moments, the touches you had shared with Carlos desperately ghostly.

Laying in bed at night, the apartment become quieter compared to the chatter of the dinner you had had with your family, you had been unable, despite vainly trying, to keep your mind off your little escapade. You had, therefore, found yourself stumbling upon some stolen shots of him, shirtless, hair wet and shiny, drops of water sliding on his tanned skin. You could anticipate its warmth, because you had felt it; you could almost evoke his fingers tracing your body with gentleness and precision, making you gasp. Loosening your muscles in delight, you swiftly slipped your right hand under your leggings and underwear, giving relief to your core through friction and light touches.

Carlos’ absence had left a void which you found unbearably underwhelming: love-bombing for three days had got you used to his ways, to his constant physical touch – which, you figured, was probably his favorite love language, since he couldn’t stray his hands away from your body – and now that you were laying in a single-size and empty bed, mind full of hopes and desires, you coped as you could, shutting your eyes and trying to reproduce Carlos’ skilled movements with your fingers, gradually increasing the pace, biting your lip as not to let out a single noise. I want you to be louder, baby. You knew that if Carlos were there, he would rub you hard enough to make you cry and beg out loud for more; he would not care of your brothers resting in their rooms only a couple of meters away and he would pay no attention but to you only, sucking on every corner of your breast, down in your inner thighs, leaving a trail of kisses to reach your-

S♥O is calling . . . Decline <-   -> Answer

You nearly yelped as you felt your left hand vibrate because of the call. Heart pounding out of your chest, partly because of the unexpected call, partly because you were in the middle of something, you hurriedly swiped to answer. «Hola, baby!» «Hi.» Carlos, who at first wasn’t looking at the screen in order to get comfortable on a beanbag chair, raised a brow: you had spoken so low your greeting was almost inaudible, your room barely lit by a table lamp. «Why are you whispering?» «My brothers are in the rooms next to mine, I can’t make too much noise.» «Haven’t told them about me yet?» he smirked. «No. They can be a bit protective.» «Well, then tell them not to open their socials on the… 22nd of May.» You frowned, taken aback. «What happens...?» «I talked to my management, and I settled everything for us to go public with our relationship. That weekend I’ll be in Monaco for a competition, so I thought there was no better occasion.»

You stared at the screen, brain racing at two hundred miles an hour: Charles had asked you to be with him for the race, but it didn’t mean you were obliged to stay attached to his hips every single second. And even if you had to skip some sessions, nothing was more deserving of your time than to keep close to Carlos, support him and stick with him in such a delicate moment for him and for you both. It wasn’t even a question. «If you’re okay with it, of course.» Carlos added, an enquiring look on his face. «Uh? Yes! Of course, I mean…» you sighed. «My brother asked for my presence at one of his races but he’s in Monaco too, so I’ll be running to you whenever I can, I promise. I’d desert completely him for you, but I can’t.» «I see.» Carlos nodded small to himself. «He must love you a lot to ask you to be with him every time.» «He’s been pretty insistent since Miami.» you smiled. «Why? Did you bring him good luck?» he smirked, raising a brow. «Hmm… Yeah, kind of.» you said, thinking of the podium picture Lando had sent you with Charles spraying champagne in the background.

Carlos sank deeper into the beanbag sack, keeping silent. «What?» you asked at his reaction, still trying to keep your volume low. «Can’t believe I need to thank him for having met you in Miami.» «Bad thing, uh?» «Yep, because I can just sense that once you introduce me as your boyfriend he’ll turn into a cockblocker.» At first, you giggled at his comic frustration and at the – probably true – assumption he had made; then your attention landed on the deeper meaning of the sentence and lingered on its last word, that had your core throb suddenly. You hadn’t stop slowly and lazily rubbing yourself, almost unconsciously, staring at Carlos spread out on the sack chair, and you definitely found it impossible not to keep touching when he represented such a strong and influential visual clue to your yearning. «Are you good?» Carlos’ voice woke you up from your trance: not sure about what to do or say, feeling once again near your release, you leaned your head on the pillow. «I… Please, don’t judge me.» you whispered in plead. «Of course I won’t. What’s the matter?» «I was… I am…» you bit your lower lip, frowning as you felt the jolt of pleasure approaching. «…masturbating to you. I miss you.» Carlos grinned affectionately at those words, finally able to interpret the subtle twitch of your shoulder he had been quite distracted by all along. «I miss you too, love. And there’s nothing to be ashamed of.» The hoarseness of his voice. Your core clenched around nothing just by him talking. «Are you close?» His tone had turned almost serious, consequently lower; you nodded through whines, at this point quite failing at the proposition of keeping absolutely silent. «Wanted to make a mess on the sheets before even going to bed? Wanted your brothers to walk in on you while screaming my name, uhm? Like you did on the beach while riding my cock, you remember that?» Only a couple of sentences and you were over the edge. You pressed your lips together, keeping your fingers on your clit to enjoy its throbbing and the riding out of your orgasm, wishing it’d never end. «Fuck, I’d like to be there on the bed next to you.» Carlos sighed, almost talking to himself. «Feel better, now?» «Feel amazing.» you breathed out. «I’m really sorry we can’t hang out until next week.» «It’s not your fault, Carlos. We’ll manage.» you reassured him.

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

>>♥<<

Exiting the bathroom after cleaning up, you decided to go grab a glass of water in the kitchen, still flushed by the steam of the situation.

Moving in the dark only helped momentarily by the whitish light of the fridge, knowing every centimeter of the house like the back of your hand, you startled as the light was switched on. «Oh, didn’t see you.» Charles seemed genuinely surprised to find you there, pulling a sheepish smile while getting close to the fridge. «I was thirsty.» you said, taking a sip from your newly filled glass. «Yeah, me too.» he said, grabbing from the fridge the bottle you had just put back in.

You gripped the counter with your free hand, wishing to escape him as soon as possible, but he was quick to pour himself a glass and join you alongside the marble. The glass against your skin felt as cold as the silence falling on you both. Growing embarrassed, you glanced at him, drawing his own interest on you. «Your cheeks are bright red… Are you okay? Do you feel like you have a fever?» As Charles leaned over to you, full of concern and thoughtfulness – too unexpected and unwelcome, if coming from him –, threatening to touch your skin as to prove the temperature of its surface, you flinched backwards, avoiding him. «No, I’m fine! I… Guess I should change the duvet, it’s still the wintery one.» He raised a brow in a quick, frustrated move. «Isn’t it the sunburn?» he asked, sharp. Sunken. Guilt pervaded you, head to toe. «Oh, uhm… No, I don’t think so.» you stood in silence. «Charles, the sunburn was just a lie…» «I know.» On pins and needles, you waited patiently for him to carry on, knowing there was more when he turned around to face you. «Where did you go?» «To Provence, I told you.» you sipped. «You flew off the country.» Charles kept staring at you with a knowing look, waiting for an answer. «Freak, can’t even trust Lorenzo…» you snorted. «He told me he accompanied you to the airport.» «Fine.» you took another sip. «I was in Spain.» Charles nodded to himself. «Did you go with anyone?» «No, I was alone. Last minute decision.» «I see.»

Charles retreated, thoughtful, staring at the bottom of his glass. Had you always been this distant? Had he ever had you closer than this? One step away, about to graze you if he only reached out, and still miles away from each other. Sometimes he wondered if he could’ve done anything not to splinter the relationship between the two of you: instead of blaming himself, he took it out with fate, destiny, whoever had decided that his only passion in life would make him hop on planes all over the world, putting most of his relationships at risk. But what if it had been him all along? What if he could’ve done something to prevent it? What if not keeping in touch with you enough was a burden placed on his shoulders only? «I’m… I’m sorry for what I said, last week. You’re free to choose who to hang out with, but I was frustrated. I never get to see you all often and you deliberately cancelling the rare time I’m here got me mad. Sorry.» «We were both petty. It’s fine, Cha’.» You weren’t his little sister anymore. You had suddenly turned into an adult, and it was unbelievably hard for him to acknowledge that he couldn’t treat you like a baby anymore, that you could have different plans and willing. Separate lives; nothing but a surname, a roof and a hurtful past shared between the two.

Despite Imola not being particularly sunny on Thursday morning, you decided to shield your sight with the sunglasses Carlos had stolen and given back to you in Spain. As if it wasn’t a clear enough sign of your unavailability to pictures, interviews and any type of approach, you kept your eyes glued to the phone engaging in a way more interesting pastime than looking at a crowded paddock.

> I hate it already and I’ve been here for barely ten seconds lol I know, without me any place is boring

You grinned.

> unfortunately true 🥲 > how are things there? crowded and busy my first task begins literally now I’ll text you later ♥      > love you ♥

You huffed, putting your phone down. «Y/n, right?» You scrutinized head to toe the woman dressed in red who had got closer to you, quickly guessing she could be a media manager by the obsessive worry she held her phone with. «Yes.» «Good! Charles asked us to give you a garage tour, so you’ll be joining the one we reserve for our guests, which starts in a few minutes. Please, follow me!»

Annoyed beyond comprehension, wondering why in the world your brother had decided to put you through such a torture – was it vengeance for having missed his family boat day? He was a menace, you had always known. He had told you he was sorry only to let your guards fall down and trick you right after, when you least expected it… –, you followed the staff, carelessly strolling in the back corridor of the box, reaching the garage. Too outraged to notice your surroundings, you paid no attention to the words the woman said (something about waiting for the other VIP guests) and wandered around mindless, gazing at the rows of headsets on the wall, some screens and the cars covered by black sheets. Charles had you trapped in his own hamster wheel: the fact that he liked it wasn’t a good reason to force you in there as well. You knew nothing about driving and you couldn’t care less. Literally, it was a heated discussion topic with Lando as well, because there was nothing attractive to you in risking your life at 300 km/h. Absolutely nothing. Knowing Charles, he had planned your entire day to avoid losing track of you as it had happened in Miami. It wasn’t established in your deal. Little shit.

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

1 new message from S♥O love you too

His words melted your rage like snow under the brightest sun: they warmed your whole chest, making a smile linger on your lips. Hearing people talking and walking into the garage, you raised your eyes from the screen; in the process, you involuntarily locked gaze with someone who seemed to be looking in your direction. And you froze. To be fair, you could tell he had been frozen longer than you had and that, in fact, he had caught your attention exactly because he was already standing still the moment you looked around you in the room. Carlos’ doe eyes were meters away from you, as his body was wrapped in the Ferrari merch you were so used to seeing in your brother’s wardrobe, standing with his phone in his hands, like you were, lips parted in astonishment and confusion.

An unmistakable laugh emerging from the back of the garage together with the flow of new people put you in alarm, which was justified as soon as Charles strolled casually his way into the box: you immediately looked away from Carlos, terrified that small interaction could ever be caught. As if you could slow down your heart thundering in your chest.

«What are you looking at?» Carlos turned his head to Charles, who was leaning on the wall next to him. «Nothing.» Why would you be there? You had a VIP pass hanging around your neck. Maybe you had got it thanks to your brother being a famous athlete… But he couldn’t spot anyone else among the guests around your age who could be your sibling; no one was as beautiful as you, no one even got near your perfection. Did you know? Had you found out he was a F1 driver and decided to surprise him, to confront him? After all, the real mystery was how you hadn’t managed to discover it yet…

«I’m doing the tour, today.» Charles plainly said. «What? You never want to.» Carlos smiled, knitting brows. Looking at his teammate's casual pose, arms crossed and sunglasses on, chewing on a gum, Carlos suddenly realized something; and he wished he could turn around to compare him to you, as doubts and hypotheses sprung in his mind. «Hello, everyone!» But Charles had already gathered and greeted the guests, and Carlos found himself surrounded by mechanics to proceed with the seat fit.

Needless to say, you understood nothing of what Charles said. Hyperaware of your surroundings, you tried to peek at Carlos, who talked to various team people – probably engineers –, then climbed into the cockpit and did checks you couldn’t see the purpose of. Charles occasionally threw dimpled smiles to you while speaking, both hoping to entertain you and getting on your nerves, well knowing you couldn’t pull a tantrum at his workplace. In five minutes, the activity inside the garage died down: Charles had dismissed you all, and you had glimpsed Carlos getting out of the car. «Next, you’ll visit the hospitality. Follow me, this way!» As the same woman you had met earlier gestured to all the guests to form a group behind her, you reluctantly entered the corridor towards the exit, not before glancing back, desperate to see Carlos one last time. You almost gasped as you saw him quickly step towards you, who were then forced to face forward, somehow fearful: you could just feel his silhouette towering yours as he chased you close.

Before you knew it, in the mid of the corridor, he had grabbed your wrist and dragged you inside a small room, shutting the door behind him. What now? You had little to no time to elaborate the situation, to master the catastrophic impact of Carlos being a F1 driver and Charles’ teammate; putting pieces together, the overall picture still had blurry borders and it shook before your sight. In that fraction of eternity – since meeting Carlos seemed to have halted time –, though, locking gaze with him, you realized a deeper truth. He was in front of you, flesh and bones, body and soul. He was the man you had incoherently fallen in love with in such a short amount of time and whom you couldn’t let go. At unison, two listeners tuned into the same radio station and moving to the beat of the same song, you leaned close to each other and you pressed lips upon lips, body upon body. You felt Carlos holding you tight in his embrace, afraid it was only a vision, a fathom, a ghostly appearance, and you clung onto his shoulders stronger to reassure him, since you definitely weren’t planning on withdrawing from his touch.

It took long to stop the kiss and get to talking; somehow, you both were always discovering a new corner of lips you craved to tease, to nibble at, to smother with kisses. Once you felt Carlos’ breath hitch and his movements ceased, as he tried to get your attention in order to speak up, you braced yourself for his words. «Why are you here?» he let out in one breath. «My brother… the  one who’s an athlete…» you inhaled. «That’s Charles.» Carlos spaced out, and you showed him a sympathetic smile while caressing his cheek with fondness. «You’re from Monaco…» «Yep.» you kept brushing his skin, appreciating the smoothness of it, able to guess he might have shaved that same morning. «You were in Miami for the race, weren’t you?» You nodded in small movements, waiting for his reaction. «But like, how didn’t you recognize me? Did you pretend not to know?» «I told you I never went to Charles’ races. I’m not interested in F1, I’ve never watched it on tv…» «At least I know it wasn’t a lie, then…» he leaned his head back, sighing.

There was no way of hiding the hint of fear you felt while biting your lip, examining Carlos’ expressions as they changed rapidly. Through it all, though, he never retreated from your touch, keeping you tight in his arms. «What a mess…» he muttered under his breath. «He can’t say a thing, it’s not up to him to decide who I’m dating-» «Y/n, there are… dynamics that you can’t understand. It’s much more than an overprotective-brother matter.» «Then what is it?» «Y/n!» Carlos shut his eyes in annoyance as he heard his teammate, your brother, searching and calling for you. «Y/n? Guys, did you see my sister?» In mutual agreement, you stared at each other while reluctantly loosening the embrace; taking a sharp breath in, Carlos then placed his hand on the knob and opened the door. «She was being nosy in the strategy room. She said she got lost.» Without paying too much attention to Carlos’ justifying words, Charles only addressed you. «Go reach Arthur and mom, we’re having lunch at the hospitality together.» You simply nodded, regretfully walking out the garage without sparing a last glance at Carlos, who was then leaning against the door frame. As the Spaniard was about to follow you and exit the box too since his duties were carried out, he felt a hand wrap and drag his arm to prevent him from leaving. «Y/n is my sister.» Carlos tried to play it cool and smirked. «I didn’t know anything about her.» «And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to always be.» Charles stepped closer to Carlos, never letting his smile falter. «Don’t get near her.» Something about his eyes, despite the attempt of coming off as friendly, something feral, almost murderous struck Carlos and left his heart blue, aware that there was nothing he could possibly do to change Charles’ disposition towards him. At the same time, however, he had to restrain himself from barking at his teammate: Carlos had sisters himself and had experienced protectiveness towards them, but he had never gatekept their existence from the entire world as Charles had done with you. He had never seen a picture of you, never known a younger Leclerc was part of the family… Cutting you off from his passion and his job only to then plead you to be a part of his life back again and suddenly dragging you around the world was simply selfish. He could tell why you would always tense up whenever you mentioned your arguments and your lacking relationship with him, and if you knew on which terms Carlos and Charles were, maybe you would’ve backed him up. Maybe you would’ve picked his side instead of Charles’, as everyone else did.

No one could deny how much Charles was the most liked, protected and favored driver out of the Ferrari pair, and this partiality unluckily showed through divisions inside the team, which no one dared speak about. Mechanics, media staff, engineers: Charles had to be cherished like a baby prince, able to obtain anything, keeping people’s hearts wrapped around his fingers, to the point he could throw ultimatums and threat to leave the team and gain, in turn, the dismissal of a team principal with a favorable replacement. 

Deep down, Carlos knew it was no one but Ferrari’s fault, with the team who had let Charles progressively identifying with the team until losing him would have a tremendous negative impact on the brand, and most of all everyone relied on him for the title championship’s fight without even considering any other person. They had made him too important, and now they couldn’t afford to lose him, even if this meant sacrificing their other driver. They had already signed Hamilton before the season had even started. And that Charles himself didn’t like Carlos much, well, signs were between the lines, for the ones who could read them properly. He had beaten Charles in the end of the first year as teammates, though people seemed to forget it. He had secured the only win of the team in the 2023 season, and had replicated it triumphantly in Australia. What did he have to do to shine as bright? What did he have to do to be… chosen?

>>♥<<

You waited in the interstice between Ferrari and McLaren’s hospitalities, barely hid in the shadow, sunglasses purposely on to avoid crossing gaze with the crowd walking up and down the paddock. Carlos had texted you, saying he would reach you as soon as lunch with the team would be over; on your hand, you had finished eating quite early since you felt no big appetite, sickened by a pounding question. Had you rushed things with Carlos? The question left your mouth dry, your hands clammy. He had seemed too hesitant, too fearful, and at first too slow to commitment, always managing to pull out excuses as to why he wasn’t ready to go public. What if it had been a fleeting moment? But how could all of it be a lie? Lying in the sand, limbs intertwined, giggling and whispering slices of life to each other as the sun set down.

A sigh revealed Carlos’ presence aside you. «I’m going to be brief. Things between me and Charles are a mess, when it comes to dynamics within the team. It’s not even hate, it’s way more subtle than that…» «It’s competition.» «Unfair competition.» he spatted. «He knows the team will always back him up, whereas I’m currently without a seat for next year.» You shot your wide opened eyes to him. «What?» «I was negotiating the renewal when they suddenly announced another driver they had been in contact with for quite a long time. The team told me nothing.» You passed a frustrated hand on your face, trying to wash away mental fog. «You don’t want Charles to be on your tail more than he is now, I guess.» «I don’t want him to force you to choose either him or me.» he stared at you. «Because you can’t help choosing him.» «No! I don’t care about him if this is the way he treats people! And why would you assume I wouldn’t choose you? I…» You halted after suddenly noticing your hands were now resting on his chest; maybe too much of an intimate gesture, but delicate enough to soften Carlos’ expression, sewed with pain. «You?» «Y/n!» You stepped back abruptly, before even turning around to see who was searching for you with such a greeting, before Lando’s curly locks bounced over to you. «Oh, Carlos!» the Brit smiled sheepish. «Do you two… know each other?» A F1 driver recognizing you right away with sunglasses on and cheering you as if nothing happened, only to be clearly surprised and slightly embarrassed locking gaze with him. Math wasn’t mathing.

Carlos smiled, genuinely curious as to why his old teammate had approached you – or tried to, before noticing the presence of a third wheeler – so confidently when, according to you and your brother’s words, no one in the paddock knew a thing about you. «No, not really. She is a VIP guest Charles asked me to treat good. Probably a friend of his.» Carlos grinned. «Do you know each other?» You could tell by the tone that the question, though his eyes were on Lando, was actually directed at you as well, and you could easily imagine the confusion and the frustration reigning in Carlos’ head. «Uhm, yeah.» Lan said, unsure. «We’re friends.»

>>♥<<

The knob clicked closed behind you. It had been a long day: trying not to show your inner turmoil, trying not to think about him too much, trying to make sense of the situation that had formed before your eyes in the span of a morning.

we need to talk i'll let you in my hotel room, i'm at the same floor charles is 8.30

You glanced at every clock your eyes could spot, compulsively checking the time on your phone’s screen, always managing to forget it and therefore forced to take a look again. Hours drew longer and longer as the moment approached, they projected shadows on your thoughts, dark and frightening.

Clearing your throat, you knocked on his door lightly and it surprised you when you felt it retreat from your touch almost immediately, opening. You quickly shuffled inside, hoping not to be seen by anyone in the corridor. Carlos vaguely glanced at you, as you could tell he was deep in thought. Not sure what to start with, you grabbed his hands, fidgeting with his fingers so that you keep your head low staring at them. «How does Lando know you?» «We met in Monaco without knowing that… that he was him and I was me. We became friends before Charles could even find out.» «And how was Charles okay with it, given his “no sister” policy with us drivers?» «I guess he couldn’t do much, at that point. But Lan told me that he had to swear he wouldn’t say a word about me.» «The only secret he was ever able to keep.» Carlos scoffed. «It had to be the most precious girl, of course.» You raised your eyes at him. «What do we do now?» Carlos didn’t answer, choosing to enjoy the silence and draw you near with his arm; he let you adjust in the hug, as you wrapped his waist, while he left a kiss on your head. That shower of love reminded you how much you had longed for his presence; despite being hundreds of kilometers away from home, you still somehow felt in the right place. You knew what Carlos was about to say. Yet, his words came late, choosing to settle in the embrace a little more, adjusting just so that he could wrap you tighter and fit perfect. «Charles can’t know.» You shut your eyelids close, inhaling deeply. Embarking in a secret relationship wasn’t on the plan, weeks earlier. Neither was Carlos. >>♥<< His fingertip traced your skin, removing unwanted strands of hair out of your face, watching you sleep in his arms with a tender smile. He let his digit draw soothing lines on your forehead, willing to undo its knit. It wasn’t going to be easy on any of you, lying to half world. And yet, no other choice was left.

«Did you save me as “so” because it stands for “significant other”?» Your cheek inseparable from the comforting warmth of his chest, you eyed up at him, irises glinting with amusement.

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

Exchanging another small kiss, you got startled as Carlos’ alarm went off to warn him about the light training he was meant to do before free practice. «Never lasts long enough.» he grunted, leaving another kiss on your lips. «Are we hanging out tonight?» you asked, climbing off him reluctantly to let him go. «Maybe right after qualifying. I need to attend a dinner with sponsors.» «Business nights, uh?» He grinned, as you both stood up. «Be careful when you exit the room. Wait here a few minutes.» «Good luck.» «It’s just free practice.» he grinned.

After he had closed the door, you sat back again on the red pillowed coach, taking a closer look to the furniture: a painting with both Carlos and his father; a Spanish flag, to which you smiled reminded of the trip to Playa de el Cañuelo; the white varnish of the wardrobe. That small corner of Monaco was dressed in Carlos' clothes as the only fortress of freedom in a country so foreign to him and so dearly close to you. The thought that he'd be living in Monaco too pretty soon and that seeing each other wouldn't be a problem through his off season quickened your heartbeat. Your love was growing fast, faster than anyone racing in those streets.

Hearing nothing but stillness outside the room, you opened the door and got out without suspicion, ready to go downstairs. «Y/n?» Struck, you stopped and raised your gaze, who was following your feet's movement. Lorenzo. He was in the guests’ area of the second floor, phone in hand, staring right in your direction. «Yes?» Fuck, you knew he had seen you. You could read it in his face, in the way the brows wrinkled his forehead, in the unsure tone he had used to call you, in the slow steps he made towards you. He halted, pausing to place his phone back in the pocket. «All good?» «Yes, just need to use the restroom real quick.» He nodded small as a sign to let you go. Confirmed, he had noticed. He knew you were lying.

>>♥<<

Waving back to fans behind the pitlane fence as a form of greeting and thanking, Charles rushed back inside the garage. The love he received in Monaco was comparable to nothing else. Walking those streets, getting to drive them and own an entire country, wrapped around his fingers, was quite the power at such a young age. Still, Charles didn’t feel pressure from it, nor the need of controlling or maintaining it: when you’re comfortably in the lead, you only see the road ahead and you don’t focus on the position you’re in.

Entering the box, searching for Andrea, Charles didn’t expect to find you engaged in a conversation with his teammate. About F1. «… and they could undercut us.» «Undercut? What does that mean?» Watching Carlos talk and gesture data on a screen, hearing his words half eaten up by the noise of the mechanics cleaning the garage, Charles didn’t stray his stare once. The way his hand lingered on the small of your back, almost without touching it but still hovering on you like a magnet's pole meeting one of the same sign, not able to make contact and yet forcing proximity, pressed an emergency button in Charles' brain. And even more so, as you gazed intently at the screen, willing to follow the Spaniard's explanations. Because when you’re in the chase, the subordinate position you’re in never ceases to pound in your head as the deadliest sin.

Before he could even prevent himself, Charles was already walking towards you with hands stuffed down into his loose sweatpants. «This is why in case of safety cars it's best to-» «Pit so no one undercuts you. Right, Carlos?» He knew. Inside his eyes, Charles could read annoyance for the interruption, as he saw your attention shifting from Carlos to himself. «Why are you guys talking about undercut? What did I miss?» «Carlos was teaching me some stuff on strategies, since I had some questions.» «You? Questions on strategy?» Charles scoffed, almost jokingly. «And why didn't you ask me instead?» «Because Carlos is a great teacher.» you grinned. «And he was the only one available.» Two bullets shot at once. A glint, the fastest and subtlest, flashed in Carlos' dark irises, bright enough to catch Charles' attention. Neither of them was keen on the idea of losing, but if there was anything Charles didn't want to be won over was a stranger engaging with you and getting your undivided attention better than he had ever done himself. He couldn't bear anyone winning you. «So?» The angles of your mouth curved in a smile unconsciously, hearing that secret code escape Carlos’ lips with such a teasing tone; and it tasted even sweeter when Charles decided to simply walk away, answering nothing to the cruel evidence.

White and black waved at the cross line, as a red car flew on the straight. The jewel had been caste onto his long due awaited Prince’s crown: Charles had won in Monaco. Emotion brimmed in every pair of eyes you met. First Lorenzo, then Pascale hugging you up, you stared at the screen and tried to make sense of your brother’s team radio being broadcasted, while you tried not to lose Carlos out of sight through the wide window giving you a majestic glimpse of the Principality. You all ran downstairs, flooding the pitlane to welcome the winner, to see his fist brought up to the sky, to hear the screams and cheers muffled by his helmet, to release your breath as soon as Charles sighed in relief too.

As you followed his red suit launching into the mechanics crowd, you swallowed hard at the scene, Charles ruffling Arthur’s hair and hugging each other with joy. It was less than a couple of meters away from you, and yet it felt like joy was a matter only to be shared between them, as if that win they so much ached for was only meant to drown you down in a painful defeat.

Charles eyed you behind Ferrari’s president Elkan but didn’t linger on you much, swamped by other people congratulating him; Carlos, instead, embracing the man who was unconsciously guarding you from the track – said Elkan –, he took the opportunity to make a deep eye contact. You noticed he must be tired or bothered by thoughts too, and if only cameras weren’t capturing every single second of the happy chaos filling the boulevard, you would’ve leaned in to leave a kiss on those soft, plump lips of his.

>>♥<<

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

>>♥<<

The shiver and the adrenaline coursing through your blood as soon as you put foot in the club inevitably sprung a smirk upon your lips. You knew it was a mistake, and still, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for it. You, Carlos and your brother dancing and getting wasted in the same room.

You had felt it right as you posed against the Jimmy’z cardboard next to Charles for some family shots, it was in the nice breeze travelling down your skin: you knew it was on you, and you only flashed smiles to the camera because you were aroused by that thought. Carlos’ stare. It told you everything you needed to know as soon as it found you among the crowd and rested on you; his eyelids had widened in surprise, while he frowned, worry and concern concealed by a layer of undeniable excitement. In that quick exchange of looks, it was made painfully obvious to both of you that staying away from each other would be a challenging task, almost impossible, if only Charles’ delightful expression wouldn’t haunt your sight left and right.

«Lando! Lan, congrats, bae!» you slurred, lacing your arms around his neck. «Thanks, babe! I wasn’t on the podium, but I appreciate.» he laughed. He then paused and checked you out with smiling eyes, trying to interpret your weirdly affectionate state. «Who did you get all this cute and worked up for?» «Uh?» Lando had to repeat the question through the loud cheers of Charles’ friends near you. «Whose heart are you trying to steal being this giggly and adorable?» Eyes bored deep into his, suppressing a smile biting your lower lip, you faked the purest honesty and innocence of mind. «No one’s.» Your hidden mischief didn’t go unnoticed to Lando, who nonetheless decided to let it slide off his mind, letting his gaze wander in the packed floor. «Want to dance?» His quick request caught you off guard, making you turn around to him with a puzzled expression. You had barely even realized his hand was resting friendly on your naked shoulder, his fingers squeezing it gently as to silently repeat the offer. «Yes, sure!» Lando vibed to the beat, taking small sips while flashing smiles at you: he could see you were having fun and definitely not sparing any ounce of energy, letting your hair sway left and right to the rhythm. Until, a flash. Behind you, in the sea of dancing bodies, he had caught someone flicking his eyes on you. Lando decided to take another sip, considering it wouldn’t be unusual for people to notice you. But then it struck again, and he managed to catch the person’s face. «What’s wrong?» you half-screamed at Lando, trying to make yourself be heard. «Nothing, thought I saw someone I know.» He then brushed your arm lightly. «I’ll come back in a second.»

>>♥<< Drink in hand – an unnecessary one, since you were already quite tipsy, but absolutely required to argue with Arthur like lords far from the dancing chaos – you reasoned out loud that the only good thing about Jimmy’z was the music. He chuckled in agreement, taking a sip. «The venue is cool, though, don’t you think?» he asked. «Would be better off without those naked girls flashing everyone.» «They’re not naked!» Arthur smugly replied. «But I see why you’re not interested.» «Are you?» you asked, disgusted. «I mean…» You scoffed at his collected reticence. «C’mon, don’t play the goody two shoes! I bet you wouldn’t complain if it was a sixpack on full display.» «But I don’t want to be flashed every single second. I’m not always in the mood, you know?» you teased, placing your gaze back to the crowd. Arthur kept staring at you, raising a brow and pulling a knowing smile. «Oh, really?» «Yes.» «Then why have you been dancing like crazy all over Lando while wearing your revenge dress?» You looked at him, genuinely puzzled. «Revenge dress?» «This is the dress you wore the night after breaking up with that dickhead of your ex-boyfriend when we partied at Buddha’s. It’s the “partying ‘til I forget my name” sexy dress.» The realization made you laugh uncontrollably hard, spitting out the sip you had taken back into the glass and obliging you to lean on Arthur’s arm for support. Of course, you couldn’t refrain from laughing long enough to let your brother know how drunk you actually were, how unstable you seemed to be on your high heels and how difficult it would be to let you go back home alone in that state.

While gripping Arthur’s arm tight for support, a trail movement at the back of the room perked your interest, and you were quick to see a group of people walking towards the VIP room, amongst which you easily spotted Charles – under his unmistakable Monaco flag – and, to your dismay, Carlos. You flung yourself away from Arthur, rushing to the VIP room door before they could reach it, dodging waiters and bodies dancing around, trying your best not to twist your ankle in the process; ignoring Carlos’ widening irises, you grabbed the shuffling flag away from Charles’ head and bore your eyes into his. «What are you doing?» you asked. «We wanted to go inside-» «I want to come in!» you pouted. Charles, already quite wasted, stared at you, seemingly unable to make sense of your weird request. He’d always thought you didn’t like the VIP room, he had it clear; still, your fingers gripping his shirt and your eyebrows knitted in plead were unequivocal signs of protest in utter contradiction with the past. It didn’t even cross his mind why he would ever deny you the access when he had, in fact, waited for you to get closer to him and join him since the very beginning. Since forever. He would always have to see you party with your friends in other clubs, purposely avoiding the one he was in, just so that you couldn’t meet him. It was a no brainer for him to giggle at you and ruffle your hair with a drunk smile, heart swelling with pride and happiness. «Of course, let’s go!»

The shades of the dim lights were blue and red, creating nice purple shadows on the black leathered couches, on the uncountable glasses placed on the coffee table, on the features of everyone sitting around you. Shameless, you couldn’t help but focus your entire attention onto seducing Carlos from across the table: index tracing the edge of your cup, taking sips from the straw while looking straight into him, crossing your legs so that the thin fabric of your dress would expose even more of your thighs. An ineffable pleasure hit you when you noticed the gleam in his dark eyes. He was hooked. You had seen him seeking relief from the heat creeping on his body, pulling away from his neck the tight-fitting shirt with a finger, shifting in his seat, first leaning over with his forearms on the thighs in order to desperately get involved in the conversation and avoid staring at you for an unreasonable amount of time, then ultimately giving up, crashing his back onto the back of the couch, manspreaded. Useless to say you fell into his trap. His smug smirk, half-lidded eyes, warned you he had very well noticed your reaction; catching you staring was the sweetest revenge, but still let him unsatisfied. He had to swipe the palm of his sweaty hands onto his trousers and swallow hard, as he watched you drink your thirst away and diverge gaze, before one of you could call out the shitshow and drag the other out of the club to finally have what you both wanted, touch starved.

Luckily for you, nobody at the table had picked up on the intense and mutual riling up competition you had started: except for Lorenzo. His eyes had followed Carlos’ body spreading wide on the couch and his clear arousal after feasting on your poses all night. Lorenzo hadn’t missed the way you had bit your lower lip, immediately taking a long sip of your drink, visibly affected by the exchange of looks with Carlos. Before he could process it any further, you abruptly popped standing up. «I’m going dancing!» Not that anyone really followed you; Charles, as well as all his friends, were deep in conversation – or, at least, drunkenly attempting to – digging up the past and cherishing the incredible victory achieved.

Carlos turned his head around, unable to stop following your silhouette everywhere like a sunflower chases the brightest star in the galaxy: you were that charming to him, that dear. «Carlos, what about you?» Carlos’ head snapped back to the table, breath almost audibly hitched, wide eyes placed on Lorenzo who had been the one to address him. He hadn’t heard the question, because he had been too caught up admiring the way your hips would sway to the rhythm, tracing imaginary lines on your neck, along your collarbone, done to the neckline of your dress… Fuck. «Sorry, I spaced out for a second. What was the question?» He knew Lorenzo hadn’t bought it, it was written in bold letters, between the lines, but Carlos acknowledged he had decided to let it drop for the moment, and he was, obviously, relieved. «How do you feel about the podium?»

You were stoked. You had rarely ever experienced such a high in your years spent in the most exclusive clubs of Monaco, and you could just feel everything was incredible: the blasting music, the drinks, the company. It was the first time you had joined clubbing with all your brothers together, and it hadn’t gone south as you had always expected to. Deep down, though, you couldn’t fake it was probably due to someone else’s presence getting your family off your mind and preventing you from focusing on anything and anyone.

He was still sitting on the couch, briefly talking to the others, but he always managed to peek at you amongst the crowd. You found the perfect hiding spot for your improvised dancing performance to Carlos behind the back of what seemed to be a guy about your age. It allowed you to momentarily disappear from his sight just enough to keep him searching for you, returning a wicked smile whenever he would small grin at you. «Are you good, mate?» Charles’ giggle alarmed Carlos once again, obliging him to nod at his teammate. «You sure? You seem a little… tense.» The chuckles and the laughter bursting from Charles’ side of the table didn’t please the Spaniard, making him rather confused. «I’m fine, actually.» They both stared at each other, Charles’ eyes sparkling in drunkenness and mischief, still smirking with both dimples on display. «I have a gift for you, Carlos.» Carlos gulped as soon as he saw Charles’ fingers gesturing as to bring something next to the table; the green eyes still fixed on him, Carlos tried to free himself from whatever was to come, reassuring Charles on the fact that if anyone needed gifts, well, that was the winner of the Grand Prix, not the third classified. «But Carlos! You aren’t turning down my gift, are you?» he said. «Because in that case, you know what they say… Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?» Charles leaned back onto the couch, resting his arm on the top. Carlos tried to throw a last glance at you, not able to find you in the swaying sea of bodies, but as soon as he had turned his head over the dance floor, he had seen the ‘gift’ approaching, and his lips parted in surprise. And disgust. One of the many dancers hired for the VIP room, hanging around and serving tables with little to no clothes on, climbing the small three steps separating the table from the dance floor. «Never look in the mouth, but… you can take a great look at everything else.» Charles smirked wide, enjoying the embarrassment and the amused commotion he had created between his friends. As the woman took a step closer to Carlos knees, he was quick to halt her lascivious moves by standing up, driven by madness at how clearly Charles had planned it only to cause a scene and enjoy how he would entangle away from such a predicament, well knowing he couldn’t act on the rage coursing in his heated blood. Carlos’ mouth went completely dry, despite the drinks he had had in order to forget he was sitting in the lions’ cage and hideously having to socialize with people who despised him as much as he did. To forget that you were the sister of that bratty, annoying, childish prince of Monaco.

Carlos darted his eyes to Charles, fingers clenching into a fist, desperately trying not to give in and offer the reaction everyone awaited as to get him to be kicked out from the club. A shatter of glass interrupted Carlos’ trail of thoughts, making him turn his head to the noise coming from the dance floor. He noticed a waitress’ tray had crashed and wetted the floor, right above the stairs next to their table, as you rushed excuses and apologies to the girl.

Carlos was about to walk down and help you getting out of the embarrassment only to get rid of his own, but he needed no further convincing the moment he saw a pair of hands grab your waist from behind, drawing you close to his body. It was a young guy, the same you had used as a shield in the crowd, who had ultimately turned around and noticed your dancing, mistakenly thinking you were addressing him with those moves and not your boyfriend sat meters away.

«What’s your name, sweetheart?» It had escalated the moment you had tried to reach Carlos both to sneak away from the unrelenting advances and to shoo away the unwanted presence of one of the dancers near your man. «Where do you think you’re going? We haven’t had fun yet!» He had spun you around grabbing your shoulder, quick to press his body onto yours; out of fear, disgust and panic, you had pushed yourself away from him with all your might, tumbling backwards on your heels and hitting the waitress. «Leave me alone!» Carlos needed no more. His eyes renewed with fire, in no time he had reached you and had snatched those foreign, dirty hands away from you. «Are you deaf? Leave.» No matter how loud the music was, you could feel Carlos’ low voice echoing in your chest, vibrations reaching your stomach: you hadn’t been that close to him all night and his sudden presence daunted you all at once. «What? Who are you to tell me what to do?» A couple of friends of the guy backed him up, as Carlos smiled out of utter disbelief and fury. You wrapped his wrist tight, hoping to hold him back in the unknown propositions you knew he might be harboring. «Someone who could get you out of this country in less than two minutes.» You turned around, surprised to see Charles dismiss the jovial and light-hearted grin he had worn all night to put on a devilish smile, his green irises concealing a hint of madness. Carlos had wiggled out of your hold, scared that your brother could notice it, as you both stared at Charles with curiosity and bewilderment. «Maybe three, if you leave immediately and forget to come here for the rest of your life.» he added, looking down at his Richard Mille.

Peeking behind their backs, the ridicule group gulped noticing a group of bodyguards approaching. Charles flashed them back with the smile of someone who has the entire world wrapped around his fingers and manages to win it all. Still, glancing back at you, he felt no power, no control. Lorenzo had approached you and was making sure you were okay, hands grabbing your arms delicately. Carlos, who had stepped in first, didn't allow Lorenzo to take care of you alone, and stood close to you, worry painted in his eyes. And what had Charles done? What had he done for you? He hadn't even noticed you were in danger. He was so focused on himself, on the mischief he had reserved for his teammate. It was the first time you were partying together and he had left you out of his conversations, his laughs, his memories' sharing, to the point you had gone dancing alone to find the company he hadn't given you.

Charles' head started buzzing, mental fog clouding his actions. He stared at you, lost, eyes glinting in drunkenness. «I'll ask Arthur to bring you back home, okay?» Lorenzo said to you. «I'll give her a ride.» Like a magnet, your eyes flew to Carlos right as he spoke. Your brother looked at him with an inquiring look, not sure why Charles' teammate would ever consider himself adequate for the task. «You guys should all stay here and celebrate together.» Carlos smiled. «I was about to leave too.» «Well, then... Thank you, Carlos.» Lorenzo grinned while Charles blinked through the interaction without grasping the meaning, which was brutally revealed as Carlos put his hand on the small of your back and escorted you towards the exit of the VIP room. And you were gone. Again.

>>♥<<

Unbeknownst to you, inside the VIP room you had kept rather quiet, experiencing a moment of down after having drunk that much. After dancing it out and getting your adrenaline levels up with the incident, stepping back into the main floor of Jimmy'z, swamped by the overwhelming heat, you had to get a good grip on Carlos' shoulder not to lose balance. «Hey, are you good?!» Aaaand you fell. Of course. Pouting and whining, you did what Carlos hoped you didn't: throw a drunk tantrum. «I don't want to leave!» He sighed, picking you up from the ground with ease and making sure you'd stand on your own. «Be a good sister and obey your brother, huh?» «I'd only obey... you.» and with your pointer finger on his chest, you smirked at him. «Then let's go home.» «Ughh, you're no fun! I want to stay!» «Is everything okay?» The voice signaled the approaching of Lando, fast enough to take an apprehensive look at you. As soon as Carlos met the Brit’s eyes, a wave of comfort washed over him. «She's drunk and I've been told by her brothers to bring her home...» Lando raised a brow at you suddenly hugging Carlos and complaining in slurred sentences. «But she doesn't want to.» Carlo sighed, defeated. «Need help?» «Yep. Much needed.» «Y/n!» Escorted out of the club by the two of them at your sides, you only remembered getting in the passengers' seat of Carlos' car, while Lando showed him the way to your house from the backseat, with his elbow leaning just above your headrest. Thighs pressed on the luxurious leather of the Ferrari’s seat, you let out a giggle out of nowhere, not sure what was making you happy: your best friend's presence paired up with the love of your life's seemed enough.

>>♥<<

«'Right, let's get you some fresh clothes.» Lan moved quickly towards your wardrobe, knowing exactly where to search for a pair of shorts and a plain bedtime shirt. Carlos, while following his movements, flipped you upwards, since you had fallen onto the bed like a dead weight facing the mattress. «Here!» Lando joined Carlos, staring at you with a sigh. «She can't put them on herself, I guess.» «No, I don't think she can.» «So… how do we do?» Carlos reached for the hem of your top without a second thought, well used to the feeling of your warm skin on his fingers while sliding clothes off of you; spreading wide your rosy cheeks with a smile, you settled for his touches, complying to the well-practiced duet, sure it was the right reward after a night of mutual pining. It seemed like Lando's presence wasn't relevant enough, or at least it didn't cause any second thought on proceeding with the stripping down before his eyes. You raised your arms, teasingly, waiting for Carlos to remove your top, which he did, leaving you only with your bra on and your high-waisted shorts. «Give me the shirt.» Lan handed it to him, furrowed eyebrows, examining carefully Carlos' moves. Smirking, you laced your arms around his neck and strived to leave a kiss on his cheek, but suddenly aware of the Brit’s stare, Carlos gave him a sheepish smile, placing a hand on your back as you didn't unglue yourself from him. «Where’s my goodnight kiss?» Lando, brows knitted and batting eyelashes quickly, examined the careful yet tender smile blooming on Carlos’ lips after your drunk request, followed by the peck he left on your forehead. Melting under the touch, you cuddled back in bed, grinning wide like a child, while the two drivers silently switched off the lights and exited the room.

Firing up the engine, the revving noise of Ferrari’s horsepower covered partially the few words escaping Lando’s lips as a reflex of a realization. «It’s you, isn’t it?» «What?» «You’re her boyfriend. You’re the guy she met in Miami.» The sky had fallen silent, though the streets of Monaco shone and the pavement brimmed with people strolling by in search of fun. Carlos glanced briefly at Lando, who was still staring and expecting an answer; then, gripping the steering wheel, he focused back on the road, unconsciously smiling. «Is it that obvious?» «I mean…» Lan gulped, avoiding gaze. «She was trying to kiss you, what other confirmation do I need?» The smile spread wide, uncontainable at this point, fueled by the memory of the cute and clingy behavior you had shown off in front of both himself and Lando. The ride kept silent for a while, as the Brit studied Carlos’ collected calm concealed under a sweating, hot body, veins in his arms popping out the tanned skin. «She told me you were pretty secretive about it all.» «Well, I didn’t want to rush her into a crazy public relationship full of formalities.» he stopped at a traffic light. «But if you really want to know, I had planned on going public next week.» «It sounds like you won’t.» «Because we can’t.» «Why not?» Lando turned to face him. Carlos gripped the steering wheel harder and stared back at the traffic light. «Charles.» «Charles what?» «Told me to stay away from her.» he accelerated, seeing the green light. «And don’t tell me “Fuck that”, because you know I’m in no position to. I’m sure that if he wanted, he could convince the team to drop me mid-season.» «Well, I see. It sucks.» «Yeah.» Pensive for a few turns of Monaco, Lando was quick to speak up again. «But isn’t love stronger than anything else?» «You can’t make a living out of love and carelessness, you know?» «I’m just saying that… She loves you a lot.» «I do too.» «I think… I think she would give up on Charles, for you.» «I don’t want her to sacrifice anything or anyone for me, let alone her loved ones.» «Need to throw up, after this.»

Carlos had asked you to sleep in his hotel room without too much thought; as a quite established couple, though hiding it, he just wanted to put his arms around you and feel your body heaving by his side, especially on weekends in which the tension upon his shoulder started to take a toll on him. The negotiations with Williams and Audi going south; the relationship with Charles wearing thin; the team starting to gatekeep the car development and excluding him from some technical feedback. Some days he only wanted to take a deep breath in and exhale loudly, in silence, searching for inner peace; he figured it would be easy with your sparkly presence next to him. He hadn’t anticipated seeing the situation affecting you as much. With a hand resting on your stomach, he could feel your heartbeat quicken and your breath being sharp and irregular. Even though you were both supposed to be sound asleep, the room already drowned in darkness, he could tell you were fighting your fears, your imagination running wild in open fields he knew nothing of. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, soothingly, you curled up, to become smaller and smaller, to take less space, and Carlos matched your movements pulling you closer to him.

In the morning, watching you offer him a coffee inside the hospitality with the brightest smile, he’d be left wondering: which vulnerable side you were both trying to show and conceal to his awareness. And when you cuddled in his changing room, he’d be willing to ask and address it but then stopped as you fidgeted with his fingers, delaying the answer, inevitably discouraging him from pursuing the truth. Still, whenever the two of you hid from the world to build a fort of intimacy and love - whichever place you’d find the most fitted to your hot-blooded desires: cramped in his changing room, late night sessions on the desk of the strategy department, making out in the backseat of a media van with tinted windows -, he could read the intense, swamping need of putting worries to sleep, he could taste it on your lips, on your collarbone, and he could sense it in the sweet scent of your hair, an implicit beg for freedom from an unknown chain. Through each breath, in each moan you let out, Carlos could hear faint pleads, a soft voice praying for him not to ask, not to speak, not to remind you, not to ruin the magic of the moment.

Carlos had, indeed, good reasons to think something beneath the surface was unsettling you. You felt it too, during the shared flight with your brothers; and then while stepping foot back again in the land which had brought so much happiness to you and that, still, couldn't swipe away the nasty shadow eating you alive. It followed you, haunted you.

Thursday, 20th June 2024. Written in bold letters on an article about the F1 weekend you were reading, and suddenly the gloom took shape. Seven years. Raising your eyes from the screen of your phone, you glanced at Charles, searching for the same wave of despair and melancholy your heart was overcome by, finding nothing but a light tint of blue under his eyes. Maybe you still had words entangled between your vocal folds yet to be spoken, yelled at him, buried inside your body under the compact soil of time; maybe prejudice had precluded a relationship not so unreachable or despicable as you had always imagined. Because maybe, well disguised by an uncracked mask, you were both harboring the same regret and grief. Or maybe not.

>>♥<<

You walked down the paddock marching to Ferrari’s garage, smile on full display, Charles’ gifted Ray Bans shielding you from judgment as you sported your shirt with the confidence of a star; it was loose enough for you to swim inside of it but still letting the hem of your shorts show beneath it. Ferrari 55 You didn’t miss the friendly smiles of the mechanics and engineers, who had got accustomed to your presence throughout the weeks, at the sight of the bright red merch. Quite pleased with the reaction, you glanced left and right with a single goal in mind, and as you hit it the grin grew wider, mimicking the one Carlos wore on his face. «How do I look?» You twirled around so that he could see better how the cotton draped your silhouette, clearly outlined by his imagination despite the lack of transparency. He had traced your body with his eyes, with his rough hands, with his thoughts way too much not to be obsessed by it, not to remember every single corner of it.

Charles, entering the garage in that same moment with a bit of a rush, since he was running late to the activities established for the day, distractedly took a look in your direction, only to turn his head a second time as he noticed his teammate checking you out with too much familiarity. «What’s going on here?» «Cha’! I was asking Carlos his opinion on my new outfit.» He took a moment to let his eyes scan top to bottom a couple of times, before nostalgically smiling. He had never wanted to see you on track during the kart days because your relationship wasn’t particularly good and he knew you wouldn’t agree anyway. But since F2, since your dad’s condition had started to worsen, since Baku, since his finger raised to show the Je t’aime papa on his rear wing, he had always dreamed of having you support him. He knew he was too old to hide in Pascale’s arms, but craving his little sister’s affection wasn’t as childish. Still, it was way harder to obtain. And having it now, eyes not missing the sunglasses you used as a hairband, so glad you appreciated that gift to the point you wore them that often, felt like that dream was coming true.

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

>>♥<<

2 new messages from Lando

[picture] you guys are going public or something?

You smiled staring at the photo Scuderia Ferrari had posted on X: it was a shot taken on the pit area of you with Ferrari merch – in fact, number 55’s one – and Carlos resting his hand on your waist.

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

>>♥<<

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

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

>>♥<<

Watching them from the pitlane, two red dots moving in the distance, you sensed something was off. Approaching them, dots elongating into silhouettes you so well recognized, you knew something was off. Given the race just disputed – which you had followed from Ferrari’s garage, biting your lips – you kind of expected it to be, but nothing more than a scratch due to adrenaline still running high. Still, you quickly realized how the matter stood different, struggling to catch up with their strides, helmets swinging with force from their hands as they animatedly discussed.

Surprised to see they entered the hospitality instead of walking towards the media pen as expected, you rushed inside, panting from the effort finally compensated, only to be welcomed by yelling now fully unleashed. «WHAT DID YOU FUCKING SAY?!» «CHARLES!» Screaming at the top of your lungs as you saw him tug Carlos’ suit, you tore him away, staring at him both furious and terrified, breathing harshly. «Did you sleep with him?!» «It’s none of your busin-» Carlos spitted out, bitter, enraged at the tone he had addressed you with. «Shut the fuck up!» he barked at Carlos, then looking back at you with fiery eyes. «Tell me you didn’t, y/n.» Your fingers weakened their hold onto Carlos’ suit, as you felt the weight of his own hand on your waist lift off from perception, and your mind suddenly went black. You had lost him, yet another time. Like you had ever had him.

You stood still, arms resting lifeless to your sides, eyes still piercing his. What would he do now? What would he say next? How would he treat you from now on, after discovering that you had sticked with him through weekend races around the globe not to enjoy his company, but to sneak with a teammate he didn’t even like? Would he feel betrayed? Would he feel as lonely as you’d always felt? Would he… hate you? His lack of reaction was the painful delay of the stab you expected in the middle of the chest.

A voice inside of you, from a hidden corner of your disrupted soul, screamed in the deafening silence around you, as your father’s face flashed you awake from that trance: that was the weekend. And those, poking your chest, stinging at the bottom of your lungs, those were the feelings. You gagged. It was inevitable; it had come too quick, too sudden to notice. You had seen the warning sign linger in the unthought thoughts, in the untold truths, ready to slip in any moment. And it did.

When Charles stepped closer, your body jerked backwards, frantic, and you would’ve said it had been out of fear; but as you felt Carlos’ arms wrap your waist with might, you realized your knees had given up on your weight, and that you couldn’t, indeed, breathe. Everything rushed around you: without knowing how, you found yourself sitting on a couch, Charles holding both your hands and talking gibberish you couldn’t follow, a cloud of people dressed in red crowding you two, when Carlos suddenly missing in the blurry picture of your vision almost unblocked the choking clench in your throat and made you cough, before turning into a panting mess. «Can you hear me? What’s wrong, can you breathe?» Charles’ words reached you like a metal screeching noise, not really able to grasp their meaning as you kept gasping and panting; you could only focus on his sweaty, warm fingers tightly gripping yours. In distress, you shook them off, hands trembling like a leaf right after.

Charles, at a loss of words, gulped in terror, letting out a frustrated whine: he could do nothing. «Lorenzo, where is he?» «He’s not here.» Charles whispered, a sad and confused shade in his voice. «I need him, I need… I… Lorenzo…» «Hey, I’m here too…» he spoke soft, inching closer, willing to engulf you in a hug if only you’d let him. He had never been there. Charles had always left you on your own. Things had even managed to get worse, after the death of… You wheezed, bringing your hand near your throat. «Fuck, call the doctors from the medical center here at the track! Come on, go! Quick, for fuck’s sake!» Focusing on the way his expression was shaped into panic and madness, the clench in your throat seemed to loosen just enough to make you sigh, as tears pricked your eyes due to fear. «No, no no no, don’t cry, it’s okay…» Charles was pained by your sobs, adding on top of your erratic breaths, and he placed a hand on your upper arm, hesitant but incapable of preventing it, because he couldn’t stand not being allowed to physically comfort you while you turned in shambles in front of him.

When you felt a hand gently place on your shoulder, you first had the instinct to flinch, but forced yourself not to as a small plastic-coated bag was handed to you from Carlos. «Breathe into the bag.» In and out, tears still running, you watched it expand and crinkle, full and empty, tuning into the rhythm of your heart slowly decreasing, and never letting slip into unawareness Carlos’ warm touch. You dropped down the bag once your breathing had settled back into a constant flow, despite being still hiccupped by sobs. Crushing between Carlos' arms, you gripped him tight. «Please, take me away from here.» you whispered, voice cracking. Charles saw your back caged and shielded by someone else's arms once again; he heard yet another time those same words, ticking inside of him like a bomb. He could still see you dressed in black, hair once combed and then miserably tousled, your frame smaller, seeking refuge in Lorenzo's embrace. Your dad's funeral. The day he realized he had not only lost Hervé, but he had also lost you. Your name slipped off Charles' lips almost inaudible, like a plea, while he got closer and raised his hand to touch you, to beg both permission and forgiveness. Carlos took a step back, drawing you even nearer to his chest to forbid him. «You don't get to touch her after what you said.» Why couldn't he never... «I'll do what you should've done instead.» Love you?

Spielberg 2024

Charles P11. Carlos P3.

Another great performance by the Spanish driver, who granted a podium for Ferrari during his last year in the team.

_____________________

4 new messages from Lando [picture] are you guys for real FINALLY official? ON THE FREAKING F1 ACCOUNT?! > ♥ yesssss

_____________________

Silverstone 2024

Charles P14. Carlos P5.

A solid weekend for Carlos Sainz despite the car being clearly difficult to drive, with great performances in mixed track conditions both in qualifying and in the race.

_____________________

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

_____________________

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

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

I’ve made so many mistakes

«So… Me +5, you +8, right?» «Yep.»

there are so many things that I want to change

«Onto the next hole, then!»

please don’t ignore me

«Ready, babe?»

I’ve missed you so much

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

>>♥<<

Monaco’s street merged with the gray of the liquid asphalt and the pouring column cascading from the plumbeous clouds. There was nothing more disappointing than to be forbidden the breathtaking scenery of the sea glimmering with sunshine splinters, and be left instead to a gray expanse of cold, humid and dampness.

You shook your umbrella, soaked in rain, squeezing it shut as you anticipated it being totally broken after the violent wind gusts blowing from the sea, and you brushed your lucid boots onto the rug, as you would always do. Welcome Home, it said. As soon as your jingling keys touched the small glass plate awaiting them in the hall, Charles was already springing up in front of you, visibly in distress. «Why did it take you so long?» Still struck by the violence of the storm which had welcomed you outside, and dazed by the hurry and urgence of Charles once you had got inside, you didn’t answer. «Did you get wet? Wait, let me get you new clothes.» You followed his erratic figure flinging in your room, opening the closet and scattering it through, in search of anything you might like to wear and change into. «This, it will make you feel warm.» «Cha’, I’m not cold…» «No, this one! This one is good, for sure.» Piling up clothes on the bed as he frenziedly looked through your entire wardrobe, you stood still waiting for him to stop. «Here, let’s change into these.» he said, handing a shirt and some trousers to you. Who… who was that? What had happened to old Charles? The one you’d always known? «C’mon, I don’t want you to get ill!» «You… you need to exit the room.» «Right!» It had never once showed his concerns for you this openly. You figured he had always been too far away from you and not present enough to make his worry evident; and yet you had never even dared dream about such a nurturing and caring brother. At least, you had never expected him to be, once you had fully realized he would never be that brother you so dearly hoped to have.

You sat on the bed, brushing the texture of the shirt he had chosen for you: a softness, a delicacy new-found in his madman behavior. Where from? Out of fear of losing you? Hypocritic. Or maybe just finally acknowledged his mistakes? Carlos’ words echoed in the silence of your bedroom. Listening to him didn’t cost you anything.

«I’m sorry. From how I treated you and Carlos, to how I never once stepped up to improve our relationship even when it was more in my power than in yours to do so.» You lowered your gaze, knowing full well what Charles was referring to and playing every scene, every talk, every fight in your mind like a rerun. «Me and dad barely included Arthur in my driving experience. We thought that there was no point in including you, who were even younger than him, in something you didn’t seem to have a lot of interest in.» «You both decided that for me.» «I know. I know now.» he nodded. «It was a terrible mistake to exclude you from my passion because it indirectly excluded you from my life.» «You weren’t even here when dad was at the hospital.» «Don't you think I know? Don’t you think I’ve suffered for that?» You, inevitably, cried; and he, inevitably, took you in his arms, hugging as strong and tight as he had ever done, as he had wanted to do the day he had come back for the funeral, the moment he had seen you cling onto Lorenzo’s shirt and be cradled by him. It should’ve been me, I should’ve supported you instead, his embrace now screamed. Charles undeniably loved you from the first time he had seen you: a little princess to guide and take care of, to cuddle to sleep when you were still a newborn, to shield from Arthur’s mischief dictated by jealousy from not being the youngest kid anymore. «I missed you.» The crack in his voice, the trembling of his chest upon yours warned you he was crying as well, inside your arms. You couldn’t help but sob louder, and grip his shirt tighter, burying your face in his neck. And yet, he knew that he needed to let that princess grow into a queen and, instead of shielding her from life, support her along the way. «As to Carlos…» he said. «Cha’, I love him, I can’t help it.» you said as he wiped a tear from your cheek. «Please, don't ask me to choose because I won’t.» «Y/n, I’m no one to say what you can and can’t do.» he dropped the tone of his voice. «And I’m definitely not entitled to say whom you can and can’t love.» You stood in shock, elaborating his words. «So…» «So, if Carlos makes you happy, then I support it. I support… you.»

>>♥<<

«So you're good now?» «Thanks to you, yes.» You laid back onto the swim towel, pressing on the sand of Playa de el Cañuelo, staring straight at Carlos who was laying right next to you. «I love the sun here in Spain, gosh…» «Brings back memories, right?» he smirked. «Yeah...» «Why don’t relive them?» In a glimpse, Carlos had grabbed you and you two rolled on the sand, so that you rested on top of him, giggling through the embrace you were now surrounded by. It was as natural as breathing the way you both leaned in to join lips in a messy kiss, smiling and grazing each other’s hot skin, building up steam in such a short amount of time. Dreamy eyes, Carlos placed a strand of your wet hair behind your ear, speaking up again. «I was thinking of buying the villa, so I can stop renting it every month for us to come here.» «Really?» you beamed. «Would you like it?» «I'd love it.» «So then we can expand it and add a second floor, to have space for a playroom for our kids...» «What?» «This will be our holiday villa, once we get married.» Out of excitement, you peppered his face with kisses, secure in the hold of his hands. He then leaned in again, as the tips of your nose brushed on each other’s. «So... Where were we?»

So... First of all, congratulations for making it through! I hope you liked it! Thanks for any feedback - negative, neutral or positive - you'll leave! Wish you all a good day ♥

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[jennaispunk]

Someone Like You

Summary: A vacation you didn’t want to take turns into something you never expected.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.3 k

Tags/Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, allusions to smut, shitty ex-boyfriend (not Marcus), brief mention of infidelity (again, not Marcus. He would never), meet cute, instant attraction, Marcus being Marcus (aka perfect), reader is shorter than Marcus and has hair that can be tucked behind her ear but no physical description is given

A/N: I wrote this for @whocaresstillthelouvre follower challenge (I hope you enjoy this Mallory!!). The moodboard was dream vacation with Marcus. This moodboard is gorgeous and I am so in love with it. I’m sorry I held onto this for so long. I went at the idea of a “dream vacation” a little differently. This was the idea that immediately came to mind when I saw this moodboard. This is for all my Marcus girlies (gn). Marcus deserved so much better and this is my (lame) attempt at a fix-it fic for Marcus. Thank you @clawdee for the beta read. The title is taken from a Van Morrison song.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You didn’t even want to go on this stupid trip. You’d planned it with Justin, and it was supposed to be a romantic getaway…until you caught him in bed with his ex-girlfriend, the one he called crazy and told you he wasn’t talking to anymore.

Your friends had convinced you to go on the trip anyway. "Fuck him!" they said. "Go on this trip and have the time of your life." Since the trip was paid for already, and you couldn’t get a refund, you reluctantly packed your bags.

The plane ride to Miami was peaceful. The older married couple sitting next to you was celebrating their 45th wedding anniversary. They showed you pictures of their grandkids, and you smiled politely. They were the goal…one that was looking increasingly out of reach.

You dropped your bags in your hotel room with a loud thud. You fell onto the bed and let yourself sink into the soft comforter. The sun shone brightly into the room, warming your skin, and you slipped into a peaceful afternoon nap.

Most of that night was spent sitting on the balcony listening to the ocean crash against the shore and feeling sorry for yourself. How did you not see the signs that Justin was cheating on you? They were there, you just chose not to see them. Every time that little voice in the back your mind started to chirp, you ignored it and told yourself it was just your insecurities. Looking back now, you should have listened. Hindsight is always 20/20.

You woke up the next morning with a renewed determination. You were done thinking about the past, it was time to live in the present. Today was going to be different. Today, you were going to go the beach and soak up all the glorious South Florida sun you could handle. You were going to let the ocean breeze carry all your worries away. This vacation was meant to be enjoyed and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

In your cutest bikini (bought specifically for this trip) and cover-up, you confidently strolled across the hotel lobby. It might be considered modest by Miami standards, but it showed off your assets. A small smile played on your lips as you remembered how sexy you felt the first time you put on the hot pink fabric. All around you were happy couples, holding hands and stealing kisses. Your resolve to not wallow in your sadness faltered just a bit as you made your way to the door, but you held your chin higher. You weren’t going to think about Justin anymore.

“Excuse me…”

You jumped as someone touched your shoulder and wheeled around to see a handsome man looking down at you. If you had to guess, he looked to be around your age. The style of his chestnut brown hair screamed young professional, and his mocha eyes were the kind you could get lost in.

“I think you dropped this.”

His large hand held a hotel key card toward you between thick fingers. Your brow furrowed and you patted the pockets of your cover up only to realize that your room key was missing.

You smiled at him and the heat rushed to your cheeks. Your carelessness struck again. How did you not realize you dropped your key?

“Thanks. It was sweet of you to track me down.”

The smile he shot back at you almost made you melt. It was so genuine, and the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled made you weak in the knees. Your eyes darted over his shoulder, half expecting his wife or girlfriend to be standing behind him, waiting. He was alone, and you smiled just a bit wider.

“It’s no problem.” His soft voice carried to your ears like a sweet melody. “You’re probably going to need this later.”

Your soft laugh was met with a nervous chuckle of his own. His soulful eyes studied you like a work of art but somehow it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t looking at you like other men do.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Marcus.”

He extended a hand toward you, and you froze for a moment. You couldn’t even remember the last time a man introduced himself to you this way outside of a professional setting, and you found yourself intrigued by this stranger.

You offered your name in return and placed your hand in his. His skin was rougher than his appearance suggested, and the warmth radiated right through you.

“So, Marcus, does your wife or girlfriend know that you go around saving strange women from being locked out of their hotel rooms in your spare time?”

His laugh came from his belly, like you told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. It was warm and genuine. Suddenly, you had butterflies in your stomach.

“Actually, I’m not married or even seeing anyone right now.”

Your brow raised and those butterflies intensified. How in the world was this man still single?

Stop! This isn’t what you were here for. The last thing you needed was to get mixed up with anyone while you were here. The purpose of this trip was to stop thinking about your ex, not lust after a handsome stranger.

“Well, there’s a beach chair out there calling my name.” Your eyes darted toward the door and then back to him.

“It was nice to meet you, Marcus. Enjoy your vacation.”

You turned to leave without giving him a chance to respond. It was better to walk away now, before you did something you’d regret later.

Marcus watched you walk away, rubbing his chin as he huffed softly. He certainly hadn’t expected to meet anyone on this trip, but maybe it was fate.

You told yourself that you’d never see Marcus again, that it was just a fluke meeting, a fleeting moment in time that was never meant to be anything. You didn’t believe in fate or destiny. That was for other people.

It seemed that fate was trying to prove its very existence to you, because the very next morning at breakfast you ran into Marcus once again.

“How was the beach?” Marcus asked with that heart stopping smile. “You didn’t get sunburned, did you?”

Your cheeks felt warm as he looked you over. How could such a simple question get you flustered?

“Nope. I got the perfect amount of sun.”

The two of you chatted for a few minutes before your phone buzzed in your pocket.

“Sorry, but I gotta go or I’ll be late for my massage.”

His hand jutted out to stop you as you turned to leave.

“This is going to sound crazy, but would you have dinner with me tonight? There’s this amazing restaurant overlooking Biscayne Bay.”

You bit your bottom lip as you considered his proposal. What would be the harm in having dinner with him? Why shouldn’t you have fun while you’re here? You needed a distraction and Marcus certainly fit the bill.

“Dinner sounds nice.”

His body visibly relaxed when you agreed, and you could have sworn you heard him sigh.

“Great. I’ll meet you in the lobby at seven?”

“Seven it is.” You responded and headed off to your massage.

That was the moment that everything changed, although you didn’t know it at the time. You’d spent every night with Marcus since then and the more you learned about him, the harder you fell for him. The two of you lived closer than you thought, he was in DC and you were in Baltimore. You scoffed when he told you that he was an FBI agent with the art theft division, but he showed you his badge and swore you to secrecy under penalty of death. He winked and laughed, and you were sure he’d stolen your heart then and there.

He was here on a case and decided to stay an extra week to use up his vacation time. He was a total foodie, he talked at length about the amazing restaurants in DC. Every detail you learned about each other just made the attraction grow.

The week practically flew by as your time was occupied by Marcus. He took you to the institute of Contemporary Art and Pérez Art Museum and watched you with a smile as you marveled at the art, and he explained the finer details. The way he spoke about the art had you completely captivated.

On your second to last night in Miami, he took you to a bar with a live band. You couldn’t believe your eyes when he jumped up on stage with the band and they played one of your favorite songs.

You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched him on stage. The image before you didn’t jive with the mild-mannered, soft-spoken man you’d spent the last few days with, but it intrigued you all the more.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

The smile was still plastered to your face. He looked so carefree up there on the stage.

“It was definitely worth it to see you smile like that, Sunny.”

He wasn’t going to tell you that he’d cashed in a favor from the lead singer. He wanted you to think it was totally random.

After leaving the club, he took you for a moonlight walk on the beach. The night sky was crystal clear. A thousand stars dotted the sky, like a painting created for just the two of you.

During a brief moment of silence between you, he took your hand and laced your fingers together. It all felt so perfect, too good to be true. You never thought that you would meet someone like him.

He suddenly stopped walking and tugged your hand. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked down at you. After everything that happened with Teresa, he wasn’t looking for anyone. She had broken his heart, and he wasn’t sure if he was even ready to try again. Looking at you now, with the ocean breeze in your hair and the moonlight illuminating your skin, he knew he couldn’t walk away.

“Everything okay?” You asked

He smiled at you and looked down at the sand before looking back up.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do all week.”

Before you could say anything, he closed the distance between you and gently cupped your cheek. He gazed into your eyes, almost hesitant before he leaned in and softly pressed his lips to yours.

You tensed for the briefest of moments, you didn’t expect him to kiss you, but you were glad he did. You kissed him back, slightly parting your lips to let his tongue in your mouth. It couldn’t have been any more romantic: the moonlight, the soft swish of the waves upon the shore, and the most perfect man you’d ever met holding you in his arms.

As you packed your suitcase to head to the airport, you couldn’t help but think about the last few nights. You got lost in the memories of the way he made you come on his fingers before he made you come on his cock, how he intertwined his fingers with yours as he pinned your hands to the mattress, the way he talked you through your second orgasm: That’s it, sweet girl…just like that…so beautiful. He even held you afterwards, something Justin never did.

It really was like a dream come true. This vacation was wonderfully unexpected, and you didn’t want it to end. You didn’t want to go back to the real world, back to your job and your old life….not when you’ve had a taste of what could be.

Marcus paced the hotel lobby waiting for you to check out. After Theresa, he’d almost sworn off love completely, then he’d met you and he was smitten. He knew that this could work, he would be kicking himself later if he didn’t try.

You smiled as his sweet face came into view. Your heart clenched in your chest. Was this this last time you would see him? You couldn’t let that happen. This couldn’t be the end.

“This week turned out better than I expected.” you said with a soft laugh.

You wanted to say more. You wanted to tell him that this had probably been the best week of your life, but you held your tongue. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.

He took your hands in his, smiling as caressed the back your hand with his thumb. His mocha eyes took in every inch of you, committing it to memory until he saw you again. It was now or never. He was going to tell you that he didn’t want this to be the end, the two of you could make this work. A short train ride was no big deal, and you could see each other often. All he knew was that he couldn’t just let you go.

The way he said your name made your heart stop. It sounded so beautiful rolling off his tongue, just like when he had you in bed.

Your lips pressed softly against his, swallowing his next words. You didn’t need anymore words. You just wanted to keep the magic alive for a few more moments before reality came crashing down.

The hum of the car engine behind you broke the spell. It was over, your Uber was waiting to take you to the airport and back to your life. You shoved a piece of paper into his hand and smiled as your eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

“If you’re ever in Baltimore, give me a call.”

He chuckled softly as he watched you walk away and get into your ride. As you drove away, he looked down at the small piece of paper in his palm. There was no way in hell he was going to let you get away. He’d be calling you sooner than you thought.

[cryptid-quest]

Cryptid of the Day: Specs

Description: On March 11th, 1959, scuba diver Bob Wall claimed to have seen a massive, 5-6 ft crab/lobster off the shore of Miami Beach, Florida. Wall named the creature “Specs” due to its massive eyes that were mounted on two slender stalks. In addition to that, the creature sported six, hairy legs.

[gettyarchive]

Nicole 'Snooki' Polizzi is sighted leaving her home during the final day of filming the second season of Jersey Shore on May 22, 2010 in Miami Beach, Florida

[cariantha]

A Chance Encounter (2/3)

Book: Open Heart (Pre-Series) Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Warning: Implied sexual activity Category: Fluff Word count: 3.3K Series Summary: Ten years before meeting at Edenbrook, Ethan and Sawyer have a chance encounter during spring break.

A/N: Artwork by the incredible @/artbyainna on Instagram.

Chapter Summary: Knowing the odds of ever seeing each other again, Ethan and Sawyer throw caution to the wind and spend a magical night together.

Part One

Part Two: The Hook-Up

January 2023 - Miami, Florida

“And I’m beginning to realize…” Ethan paused, reaching for Sawyer’s wine glass and placing it along with his own on the patio table behind him, “There are some things that are worth any risk.” 

Though it was winter, the cooler Miami temperature was as comfortable as a summer night in Boston. But Ethan wasn’t thinking about home. With the moonlit backdrop of the Atlantic Ocean, a scene from his past began to play out before him. 

When he turned back to Sawyer, he met her hopeful eyes. Reflecting the bright, silver moonlight, they looked just like sea glass.

It had been six months since the mystery woman he met a decade ago in East Hampton, New York found her way back into his life. If Sawyer had any memory of those days at the beach, she had kept it tucked away. When her shaky hand cupped his dark stubbled cheek, Ethan was suddenly desperate to remind her. “Sawyer, I…” 

“I know,” she said softly, never breaking their intense gaze. 

Immense relief coursed through him as he closed his eyes and leaned into her caressing touch. With that long-awaited admission, Ethan’s remaining reservations were drowned out by overwhelming lust for the woman he had dreamt of for years. When his eyes opened again, the dam built of steadfast resolve finally broke.

In an instant, she was finally - after all this time - back in his arms. His mouth covered hers in an intense kiss. He held his lips to hers for many heartbeats, needing to make up for lost time. 

“Dr. Ramsey, you’re–”

“Ethan,” he insisted. There was no need for formality anymore. They no longer had to pretend they were only ever co-workers. Their pact of anonymity became null and void the day Sawyer walked through the doors of Edenbrook Hospital.

Time was a blur as a frenzy of hands and mouths allowed their bodies to become reacquainted. After a clumsy, lip-locked dance across the balcony, Ethan fell back into a cushioned patio chair. Sawyer lowered herself onto his lap and began slowly rocking her hips against his, matching the lapping rhythm of the shore. 

“Sawyer, I’ve never done anything like this. Ever. This is—” He needed her to know he would never take advantage of his position of authority. He would never take advantage of her in any capacity. Hell, it’s why he had kept this memory to himself to begin with. But he could no longer deny their history. Their attraction. Their connection. 

Sawyer stopped him mid-sentence, placing her hand over his pounding heart. She then took his hand and held it between the valley of her breasts, and he completely forgot what he was going to say. Instead, he sighed contentedly. “You… feel amazing.” 

His blonde temptation smiled coyly. “Wait ‘til you feel the rest of me.”

Her confusing words and a perfectly timed chilly gust of ocean breeze released him from her spell. What does she mean by that? Ethan quickly replayed the last few minutes, realizing he may have made an erroneous assumption. When Sawyer said “I know” was she referring to their past or acknowledging their current and undeniable attraction to one another? The jolting thought made him face the harsh realities of their situation yet again. She was an intern. He was her boss. This can’t happen no matter their history.

March 2012 - East Hampton, New York

The day after her best friend's accident, Christian headed into the big city with her employer on official nanny duty. Having stayed behind, Sawyer took the opportunity to walk to town and explore the local shops and eateries. She enjoyed window shopping at high-end stores catering to wealthy vacationers and locals. But wearing cut-off jean shorts, a tank top, and flip-flop sandals, she didn’t dare go inside fearing a “Pretty Woman” scene the moment a salesperson sized her up. 

Deciding it was time for a morning pick-me-up, Sawyer made her way to the crowded Starbucks on the corner. She was about to follow a couple of hoity-toity customers inside when a row of quaint boutiques across the street caught her eye, a little coffee shop nestled between them. She looked both ways before dashing across the bustling thoroughfare, eager to try something different.

The bell on the door rang as she opened it, drawing the attention of several patrons. As Sawyer surveyed the charming and seemingly popular cafe, her face lit up when she saw Ethan at the back of the order line. 

Also excited by the surprise meeting, Ethan let the older woman behind him go first so he could stand next to Sawyer in line.

“I didn't take you for a coffee guy," she greeted.

"I'm a med student, remember? We only function on coffee or energy drinks. I prefer coffee."

“And why this place over that one?” she wondered, tilting her head toward the large bay window. The siren in the middle of the familiar green logo smiled back at them.

“In my experience, local coffee shops have better quality coffee. And they tend to be much quieter. There’s a lesser-known place close to campus where I like to go to study. The owner is from Hawaii and occasionally serves an amazing Kona.”

“In other words, you’re a coffee snob,” she poked fun.

Ethan shrugged unoffended.

The barista took their orders when they reached the counter. “Are these together?”  

“Yes,” they both answered at the same time. 

“Let me,” Sawyer turned to Ethan. “I owe you one for your help yesterday.” 

But Ethan wouldn’t have it. “It’s on me,” he overruled, handing his debit card to the barista.  

Moving out of the way for the next customer, Sawyer thanked him for the coffee. “That was sweet. But I still owe you. I might just have to give you one of those private surf lessons for free," she smiled coyly.

Clearing his throat, "Speaking of… how's the leg?" 

"It's bruised and tender,” she shifted her body to show him. “I found some of that same ointment at the house and rebandaged the big cut this morning."

Ethan nodded satisfied.

Sipping from their to-go cups, they stepped out of the small eatery together. Hoping to extend their time together with a walk home, Ethan asked which direction she was headed. 

Looking down the street, she answered, “I was going to take this way around. I wanted to check out a few more of the sights.”

“Care for some company?” Ethan asked hopefully.

Sawyer couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face when she turned her head to respond. “I’d love some.”

Strolling through the village-like setting, they chatted about all sorts of things, especially medical school. With a big decision to make soon, Sawyer wanted to know more about the application process, Ethan’s favorite classes, and his plans after graduation.

“Wait, seriously? I’ve heard of Dr. Banerji! I recently read one of his case studies for my Viruses and Application for Biological Systems class. Wow, I hope things work out and you get the chance to work with him,” Sawyer commented with sincerity.

Spotting a gift shop with tacky tchotchkes and souvenirs, she tugged on his arm to follow her inside. They browsed the displays, making a game of who could find the most ridiculous item. Ethan was determined to outdo himself every time simply to hear her lovely, melodic laughter. He found her minutes later flipping through a rack of novelty t-shirts. Ethan mindlessly flicked through shirts on the opposite side. He found it endearing how she giggled at the silly ones, and more than once their eyes met over the clothing rack, eliciting shy smiles.

When they exited the store, Sawyer handed him a bag. “Here.”

“What’s this?” he furrowed his brow in question.

“Open it,” she instructed.

Ethan pulled a white t-shirt from the bag. The red print said “LIFEGUARD,” and below the cross symbol it said “The Hamptons.” 

“I know it’s cheesy, but I owe you a new shirt and you did come to my rescue,” she explained. 

With a nod of appreciation, “Thanks. You didn’t need to do this,” he said, tucking the shirt back into the bag. 

As they trekked through the neighborhood, their conversation continued to flow effortlessly, like they could share anything and everything without hesitation. Sawyer made him smile often with her carefree playfulness and gentle teasing. Not an easy feat if you ask those who knew him well. Likewise, Ethan made her laugh, even snort a few times, with his dry humor and quick wit. They walked just inches apart, their hands brushing together so many times it no longer felt accidental. 

It felt like they had been walking and talking for hours, but it all came to an end too soon when they reached his driveway.

“Thanks for the coffee and company.” She looked nervously at her feet before continuing, “It sucks that you’re leaving tomorrow. Maybe we can–”

"Hey! Is that you, Gidge?” Tobias interrupted as he came outside to unload party supplies from his Jeep. “I see you've met Moondoggie here.”

"What the hell are you talking about, Carrick?" Ethan glared at him. 

"It's from an old movie," Sawyer helped to explain.

"Gigde, we're throwing a beach bash later tonight–”

“We are?” Ethan interrupted with a vexed look on his face. 

“You and your friend should come," Tobias continued, ignoring his roommate.

"We'd love to come to your orgy… I mean luau, Kahuna," she played along. 

Ethan just looked between the two of them, the movie references completely lost on him. 

Tobias elbowed him playfully, "I like this one, man.”

Rolling her eyes, Sawyer turned back to Ethan, “Later then?"

Ethan nodded and put his hand up to say goodbye as she continued down the road.

The back of the Jeep was stockpiled with several cases of beer and brown paper bags with various assortments of liquor bottles. “Jesus Christ. How many people did you invite over?” Ethan groaned.

Shrugging, Tobias responded, “Who was counting?” 

Ethan jumped when he felt fingers slide into his back pocket. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, swatting his annoying friend's hand away. 

Tobias patted Ethan’s ass where he deposited a strip of square foil-wrapped packets. “Just making sure you’re prepared for later.” 

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Christian had to put the kids to sleep before going off the clock for the night. By the time Sawyer and her best friend finally made their way next door, the party was in full swing.

As the ladies made their way to the kitchen for drinks, Sawyer’s eyes swept each room they passed, hoping to spot a familiar face. Every room was crowded with college-age partiers, most of whom looked like snobby rich kids. Guys wearing polo shirts and plaid shorts, and who sported expensive watches, mingled with women wearing tight, short dresses, with blown-out hair and manicured nails. Sawyer wasn’t sure if they’d been invited to a spring break party or a country club clambake.

“Gidge! You made it,” Tobias greeted, throwing an arm around her shoulder as he squeezed in between the two friends. 

“Kahuna,” she acknowledged. 

“Let me introduce my boys, Stinky and Lover Boy,” he joked, nodding to his pals. “Moondoggie, who you’ve met, is around here somewhere. Probably sulking in a corner.”

“Annnd, I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Sawyer’s friend laughed, “but, I’m Christian.”

Tobias looked her up and down, then said with a smirk, “Challenge accepted, angel. We’ll make a sinner of you before the night is over.”  

A while later, Ethan came out of hiding and weaved his way through the party. He scanned the many faces gathered in nearly every room on the first floor of the mansion, searching for a pair of brilliant green eyes. But as luck would have it, they kept barely missing each other. No sooner had he left the room than she entered. After a couple of passes, Ethan grabbed a beer from the kitchen, and with a disappointed sigh, he made his way outside. 

Sawyer stayed by her friend's side for a while until Tobias wrapped his arm around Christian's shoulders and led her away for a dance. With a beer of her own, Sawyer ventured outside to get some fresh air. On the far end of the deck was a spiral staircase that led to a second-story balcony. Hoping to at least enjoy the view of the moonlit ocean while she worked through her own disappointment, she coiled up the stairs. When she reached the top step, she saw Ethan leaning on the railing, looking sullen and staring out to the water.

"Oh! Hey,” she tried to contain her sudden excitement, “Sorry. I didn't realize anyone was up here."

"Hi," his voice sounded glad to see her.

"Mind if I join you?"

Ethan shook his head.

"Not much of a party guy, huh?" Sawyer asked, joining him at the railing. 

"It's not really my scene."

“Oh? And what kind of scene do you prefer?”

Ethan slightly shifted his body toward her. “Coffee and conversation. A stroll through the neighborhood. Beers on the porch,” he answered, clinking the neck of his bottle against hers.

With knowing smiles, they each took a swig of beer, then fell back into the same comfortable conversation as earlier in the day. There was an undeniable connection between them and, as if they both came to that same realization, a timid silence settled between them. 

This was the moment, the one where someone made a move or made an excuse to head back downstairs. Ethan pushed off the railing and stood up straight, setting his beer bottle on the railing. Sawyer followed his lead, doing the same. When she turned to face him, a gust of ocean breeze blew her hair into her eyes. Ethan's fingers were there in an instant to help push it away, and after tucking it behind her ear, his hand lingered on the side of her face. Sawyer wrapped her hand around his wrist to hold it in place as their eyes met in contemplation.

Ethan considered whether the instant gratification was worth it, knowing it would make their inevitable goodbye that much harder. Given their current realities, he was under no illusion that this would be anything more than a spring break fling. But the voice of reason was drowned out by the overwhelming need to taste her lips and feel her skin under his fingertips. In that instant, he decided the reward far outweighed the risk. 

During those few seconds of hesitation, Sawyer made her mind up too. When she wrapped her other hand around the back of his neck, the dam broke. 

Though their lips were eager to meet, their first kiss was not hurried. It started soft and slow. Ethan pulled back after a moment to gauge Sawyer’s reaction, seeing the smile in her eyes. When he felt the gentle tug on the back of his neck urging him to return to her lips, he angled his head to the other side and kissed her again. Sawyer parted her lips, inviting him deeper. Their kisses grew in intensity, and the longer they stayed lip-locked, the more desperate they became for more.

Tongues still dancing together, Ethan clumsily backed them away from the railing and toward a reclining chaise lounge. Mindful of her wounded leg, he laid down so that Sawyer could straddle him. 

Eager to feel more of him, Sawyer lifted his shirt over his head. As her fingers dragged over the contradiction of velvety skin and concrete muscle, Ethan’s fingers found their way under the hem of her shirt. The lower hers traveled, the higher his went. When she reached the button of his jeans, Sawyer hesitated.

His hands instantly dropped to hers, tenderly wrapping them in his own. “If you want to stop, we can. This is probably a terrible idea given the odds of seeing each other again.”

The fact that he was being so considerate only made her want him more. If she was going to check this experience off of her college bucket list, she wanted to do it with him. 

Staring down at their joined hands, she shook her head. “No, I want to. I’m just a little nervous,” she confessed, looking up with a shy smile. “And honestly, the fact that we probably won’t see each other again seems like a good enough excuse to just give in. No strings attached. No complications,” she assured him. “Do you? Want to stop?” 

“Hell no. I want you,” he insisted, squeezing her hands. “It’s just… I don’t usually do this sort of thing… but I just can’t seem to get enough of you.” Ethan rubbed the knuckles of her hand with his thumb. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. No pressure.”

His eyes spoke nothing but the truth, and in response, Sawyer weaved her fingers through his. She then pushed their joined hands over his head, leaning down to capture his mouth in a heated kiss. 

When things turned red hot again, Sawyer murmured against his lips. “Do you have–”

“In my back pocket,” he whispered, letting go of her hands.

Sawyer laughed as she reached underneath him and shimmied her hand into his pocket. “For someone who doesn’t do this sort of thing–” 

“Let’s just say my roommate is the type to do this and wanted everyone to be prepared tonight,” Ethan defended, plucking the foil packets from her fingers. “As much as I hate to give him the satisfaction, I’ll have to remember to thank him later.” 

The stars in the night sky replaced the ones behind her eyes after experiencing something she could only describe as magical. Feeling as though she had finally descended back to Earth, Sawyer shifted in Ethan’s arms, attempting to disentangle herself and stand up.

“Not yet,” he begged, locking her up in his limbs.

She inhaled the scent of his bare skin and placed a kiss over his still thundering heart, “Okay.”

The ocean mist cooled their flushed skin as they stole gentle kisses from each other, hoping the next wouldn’t have to be the last. Propping herself up on an elbow, Sawyer stared down into Ethan’s moonlit eyes.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“It’s just… you’ve been so amazing, and I don’t even know your name,” she giggled.

Caressing the side of her face, “Let’s keep it that way. It will be easier to let each other go. No complications, remember?” 

Nodding in agreement, “Okay. No complications,” she echoed. Sawyer repeated the mantra in her head several times as she reluctantly pried herself free of Ethan’s embrace. “I should find my friend before she starts to worry.”

“Right.”

They handed each other pieces of clothing and got dressed. Standing in front of each other, Sawyer reached up and took Ethan’s face in her hands, offering him a final kiss goodbye. Ethan swept his hands over her hair and held her head as he returned the sentiment, not letting go until they were both out of breath. 

Slowly they pulled away. Sawyer took a few steps backward, before finally turning her back to him and walking away. Before descending the spiral staircase, she turned her head and met Ethan’s gaze. “Bye, Moondoggie.”

“Bye… Gidge?” he tried to remember. 

With an affirmative nod and final wave, Sawyer winded her way down the stairs. 

She found Christian inside, sitting on Tobias’ lap. They were watching and laughing as Stinky, whose real name she thought was Andrew, sang a horrible karaoke rendition of Gotye’s “Somebody that I Used to Know.” 

When Christian spotted her friend in the doorway, she whispered to Tobias that she’d be right back. “Hey! Are you good? Have you been having fun?”

“Yep,” Sawyer beamed uncontrollably. 

“Hold up,” Christian looked her up and down, “Sawyer, did you…?” 

Sawyer eagerly shook her head in the affirmative. 

“You and your lifeguard?” 

Sawyer nodded again. 

“Eeeek! Girl, how was it? Are you okay?”

“I’m good. Really good. It was incredible.”

Part 3: The Realization

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[rafesgoldrings]

First off, congratulations again on 1k, my sweet love. 🥹 very well deserved. One of the most talented writers on here!

Could I please get Lust For Life, with the song Florida Kilos by Lana Del Rey for our angel boy, Rafe? Thank you so much, baby!

Florida Kilos R.C

Thank you my love🥺 that means so much coming from you, I hope you enjoy (I apologize if the pacing and plot is weird😭 this is just how I envisioned this in my head)

Warning: drug usage, mentions of a gun, worries about dying?

“You know if we get caught you could go to prison right?”

“Well baby, prison isn’t nothing to me if you’ll be my side”

That was how it started, being his girlfriend yet barely seeing him caused you to grow tired of his constant late night trips to who knows where. You weren’t an idiot, you knew what he was doing, and when you first approached him, he was hesitant to let you in. He told you this was a dangerous world, that there were people who would shoot you with no hesitation, that he didn’t want you involved because you were too good for that kind of shit. You of course assured him it was okay, that you wanted in, to just give you a chance because you missed having him there with you and if this is what it took then so be it.

So he agreed, now a year later it’s summer and you both decided to drive down to the Florida Keys in a condo he bought recently. Turns out you’re a great help at his deals, all those little skirts you wear and the way you wrap your lips around your straw as you sip your cherry coke with lime made the men incredibly weak in the knees.

“You cut this shit with the baking powder right Rafe? You know that makes it weigh more which means we can charge more and half these idiots will be too high to notice” he shook his head as he bent down to the white lines he had placed on the counter next to the stove, snorting them clean and letting out a loud sigh.

“Of course I did baby, not an amateur. Here” he pulled his car keys from his pocket, getting the special key he used for coke and scooping some of the white powder up to hold to your nose.

You snorted the powder from the key, scrunching your nose and sniffling, then wiped any evidence from your nostril. You extended your hand to his, interlacing your fingers and heading to the car for a deal he’d managed to set up in Miami. He opened the middle console and pulled out his gun, sticking it in the waistband of his pants as he always did in case something went awry. You pulled down the vanity mirror and reapplied your signature red lipstick, admiring the delicate gold hoops you had on that Rafe bought you as a gift. When you were satisfied, you pushed it back and put your seatbelt on.

The deal was obviously a huge success, the guy wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you long enough to notice his coke was clearly cut with baking soda, blindly paying Rafe double the price because of his fascination with you. Once he left, You and Rafe walked to the beach and watched as the waves crashed against the shore. The soft moonlight illuminating them beautifully, bringing you a sense of peace that you hadn’t quite realized you needed.

“I think we should move to Miami one day” you spoke softly, resting your head on his shoulder as his expensive cologne filled your nose.

“Yeah? Why’s that baby?” his eyes remained on the waves in front of him, one arm wrapped around your shoulder hugging you close.

“People never die in Miami. That’s what they all say, you believe me, don’t you baby?” a forced smile on your face as you realized you two aren’t bulletproof, you could easily die on one of these runs. Sure you’d been lucky before, but luck always runs out one way or another.

“Of course, maybe one day we will. We’ll move here and leave this shit behind us, just dance the night away. A world made just for us where we live forever and watch the keys” he knew what you were thinking, the same thing often crossed his mind. He was able to drown it out with you, your moans, the feeling of your body against his, the high he got from snorting the white powder that made it feel like winter.

“Promise me. Promise me we’ll move here and live forever one day” you moved your head to look at him, a serious look on your face.

“I promise.” his hands moving to cup your face and pull you into a kiss. A promise that could seal your fates forever never felt so good. Little did you both know…

[mariacallous]

As Hurricane Milton roared toward the west coast of Florida on Tuesday and Wednesday, its 180-mile-per-hour winds weakened to 145 miles per hour, rose again, and then fell. What had been one of the quickest ever storms to reach Category 5 strength—which is when wind speeds top 156 mph—flicked back and forth between Categories 4 and 5. It ultimately arrived at the coast on Wednesday as a Category 3 storm, with winds of 125 mph.

But while Milton’s wind speed was reduced, the inundation of water forecast for Florida remained just as massive as before. Tampa, a city of 3 million that hasn’t taken such a direct hit in a century, faces a storm surge of 10 to 15 feet, along with nearby St. Petersburg and Sarasota, according to the National Hurricane Center. This comes less than two weeks after Hurricane Helene pushed an 8-foot surge into the area. Central and northern Florida could also see 12 inches of rainfall, with up to 18 inches in isolated areas.

That Milton could decrease in category but still threaten such a high storm surge and volume of rainfall shows a major shortcoming of the Saffir–Simpson scale, by which we assign hurricanes categories 1 through 5: It’s based solely on wind speed, even though in an era of climate change, hurricanes have been unleashing more and more water on cities. That has left hurricane forecasters trying to move beyond these categories and convey the risk of storm surge and flooding, so people will still evacuate even if wind speeds slacken.

“The public needs to not focus totally on the number in the category,” says Erik Salna, a meteorologist at the International Hurricane Research Center at Florida International University. “The fact that it has already been a major hurricane, it will still have that momentum, power, and force on the water. And the biggest killer is water, not the wind.”

The Saffir–Simpson scale is “a great way to show really the intensity of an open-water storm system,” says Brian Hurley of the US National Weather Service. “But it should not be the end-all be-all for diagnosing the threats.”

Modern hurricane forecasting was born in 1943, when a US Army Air Corps pilot flew a two-person propeller plane into the eye of a hurricane on a barroom dare, and then repeated the stunt with a meteorologist on board. This gave birth to subsequent innovations like aerial surveys, but while these gave weather watchers a lot more data—on how low the barometric pressure in the storm had fallen, how fast a hurricane was spinning, and how fast it was moving toward shore—they still struggled to express the level of danger to the public.

For instance, in 1969, many residents of Mississippi failed to evacuate before Hurricane Camille slammed into the coast with estimated winds of up to 200 miles per hour, despite detailed weather reports, and 256 people died. National Hurricane Center director Robert Simpson subsequently decided to adopt a categorization of hurricane wind speed developed by his friend, Miami civil engineer Herbert Saffir, leading to the Saffir–Simpson scale. Simple and evocative, it gave even the most uninformed people the sense that categories 3, 4, and 5 are major hurricanes, with major destructive potential.

“Its great advantage is everybody knows it, and everybody more or less knows what to be afraid of,” says Richard Olson, director of the International Hurricane Research Center.

This simplicity comes at a price, however. Since it’s based on the maximum wind speed achieved, the scale doesn’t say anything about the size of a storm. Hurricane Katrina, for instance, hit New Orleans in 2005 as a Category 3, weaker than Camille. But it was much larger, with hurricane-force winds extending 105 miles from its center rather than 60 miles for Camille, and it did a lot more damage.

The scale also doesn’t address flooding—neither the storm surge of ocean water pushed onshore by a hurricane, nor the heavy rainfall it dumps as it passes over land. Originally each category included an expected range of storm surge, but the National Hurricane Center removed this in 2010. That’s because factors besides just wind speed influence the surge. A hurricane that moves forward quickly or has a large radius will push more water onshore than a smaller, slower storm, especially if a shallow continental shelf forces that water mass upward. The storm surge will be higher when squeezed into a bay like the one around Tampa or when a hurricane barrels head-on into the coast rather than at an angle.

Hurricanes like Katrina showed the potential for confusion: The gigantic storm surge of up to 28 feet far exceeded the 12 feet predicted based on its Category 3 wind speed, corresponding instead to what would be expected from a Category 5. In response, StormGeo, an advisory firm that helps its clients decide when to shut down infrastructure like oil refineries and retail stores, developed the Hurricane Severity Index. “We realized the Saffir–Simpson scale didn't accurately reflect the storm-surge capabilities of a storm,” says StormGeo meteorologist Bob Weinzapfel. The index measures wind speed on a 25-point scale and a storm’s size—that is, how far these high winds extend—on another, to give a total rating out of 50, and compares that to historic hurricanes. By that index, Milton has 11 size points and 12 intensity points.

For its part, the National Hurricane Center started issuing storm surge watches and warnings in addition to categorizing hurricanes based on windspeed. Its bulletins now also include risks of rainfall, tornadoes, and high surf.

“We’ve worked to separate the impacts to best represent areas on the immediate coast and for those a few miles to hundreds of miles away,” says Maria Torres, a meteorologist at the center.

But the Saffir–Simpson scale remains the key measurement, unless you have the time to click deeper into your regional weather service website. And as climate change supercharges hurricanes, which are fueled by warm water and air, the sufficiency of the system's five categories is increasingly coming into question. After Milton’s wind speed skyrocketed from a 60 mph tropical storm to a 180 mph Category 5 hurricane in only 36 hours, experts are again discussing whether a Category 6 needs to be added.

Milton’s enormous storm surge has also highlighted the growing danger from water. More intense hurricanes are pushing higher storm surges due to sea-level rise. These “hurricanes on steroids,” as Olson calls them, are also dumping larger amounts of rain inland, just as Hurricane Helene did in North Carolina late last month. Between 2013 and 2022, flooding due to heavy rainfall accounted for a whopping 57 percent of hurricane deaths, with storm surges responsible for another 11 percent, according to the National Hurricane Center. Wind caused only 12 percent.

The International Hurricane Research Center is known for its “wall of wind,” a hangar of 12 giant yellow fans that can generate 157 mph winds to test the resilience of building materials. Now it has a $13 million federal grant to design and prototype a new facility with 200 mph fans and a 500-meter wave pool, to test the effects of windier, wetter hurricanes.

“That’s real-world. You don’t get just wind, just water, just wave. You get all three,” Olson says.

Some meteorologists say we need a different scale entirely. Carl Schreck, a research scientist at North Carolina State University, has proposed a Category 1–5 scale based on sea-level pressure to better incorporate water. A low pressure boosts both wind speed and storm size, and larger storms tend to have bigger surges and more rain. A Category 5 would be a hurricane with a pressure lower than 925 millibars. By this measurement, Milton would have remained a Category 5 until mid-Wednesday rather than vacillating between 4 and 5.

“Pressure is easier to measure, easier to forecast, and matters more for damage, but NHC, through inertia, they’re tied to the current system, and they think changing it would confuse people, unless there’s a silver bullet,” Schreck says. “And there is no silver bullet.”

No single number can capture all hurricane impacts. That was demonstrated by Helene, which made landfall in Florida as a Category 4 but unleashed “biblical” rainfall hundreds of miles inland in Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina. The storm killed more than 200 people, half of them in western North Carolina, where mountain valleys channeled the rainfall into devastating floods. The impact was compounded by a tropical storm that showered the Carolinas with historic rainfall two days before Helene.

Before Helene hit, forecasts compared its rainfall to hurricanes Frances and Ivan, which brought up to 18 inches of rain to some parts of North Carolina in 2004, triggering 400 landslides and killing 11. They also cited a record-setting flood in 1916, warning that the “impacts will be life-threatening.” The storm two days before Helene was described as a “once-in-a-thousand-year event.” But the fact that so many people died nonetheless shows a “communication disconnect” between our storm warning system and the public, says Schreck, who lives in Asheville and was without power and water for days.

He’s also helped develop an “enhanced rainfall” scale, where a Category 5 event pours five times as much rain as an area would get once every two years on average, a Category 4 dumps four times as much, and so on. The predicted rainfall would have made Helene a Category 3 extreme rainfall event in the mountains of North Carolina rather than just a Category 4 hurricane on the coast of Florida.

“Nobody knows what 500 or 1,000 years means. It’s basically inconceivable,” Schreck says of probability-based systems. “So it’s saying, take the biggest event you can remember and multiply it by three.”

Not everyone will evacuate even for a major storm, however, especially in a hurricane-weary state like Florida. More than a million people were under an evacuation order there for Milton, with Governor Ron DeSantis urging residents to “run from the water” and the mayor of Tampa warning those who don’t are “going to die.” But one mother named Amanda Moss went viral with TikTok videos saying she didn’t have the money for flights and hotels to evacuate her husband, mother-in-law, six children, and four French bulldogs from Fort Meyers, which faces up to 12 feet of storm surge. In the comments, some other users said they were also staying put, arguing they couldn’t get off work or were worried about gas shortages.

It’s not just “a pride or an ego thing,” as Moss put it. Thirteen percent of Americans wouldn’t be able to cover an emergency expense of $400, and 38 percent would have to pay with a credit card, sell a possession, or take out a loan to cover it, according to the Federal Reserve.

“There is not like one sentence that you can get on air and say that is going to get everybody to evacuate,” says Samantha Montano, an assistant professor of emergency management at Massachusetts Maritime Academy, who favors retiring the Saffir–Simpson scale altogether.

Rather than wind speed or sea-level pressure categories, hurricane forecasts should focus on local impacts in certain areas, she says. For Tampa right now, that’s 15 feet of water in the streets, winds that could tear off your roof, and rainfall that can overwhelm drainage systems and wreck your car.

“Any scale that we’re using to communicate with the public that isn’t accounting for what impacts are isn’t going to capture what the public needs to capture in order to be able to understand the risk,” Montano says.

[amadouers]

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here, are you? i figured because you totally just missed milena “mila” bukowski walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who she is ? they kind of look like rachel zegler and i could be wrong but i think that they might be 26 years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last 2 years. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of jackie burkhart from the 70s show. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at cove wellness center as a receptionist. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the airhead of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty materialistic at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty vivacious to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that 2 bedroom apartment beside me over in sunny shores. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!

statistics  .

full  name:  milena  grace  bukowski.    nickname(s):  mila,  miley.    age:  twenty6.    date  of  birth:  august  10th,  1998.    hometown:  miami,  florida.    living  arrangement:  sunset  villas  #2b,  sunny  shores.    sexuality:    heterosexual.    occupation:  receptionist  at  cove  wellness  center.    traits:  vivacious,  loyal,  outgoing,  envious,  materialistic,  judgmental.

biography  .

born  and  raised  in  miami,  but  visited  palmview  during  summer  breaks  to  spend  time  with  her  grandpa  throughout  her  life.  mila  had  a  close  relationship  with  her  grandpa,  who  often  spoiled  her  rotten  growing  up.  not  that  her  parents  didn't  (  being  the  youngest  of  two  siblings  made  it  easy  for  mila  to  be  the  favorite,  but  her  parents  often  reminded  her  that  it's  important  to  stay  humble  )  but  she  totally  got  grandpa  wrapped  around  her  little  finger  and  anything  mila  wants,  mila  gets.

mila  had  it  easy  for  the  most  part.  everything  had  been  spoon  fed  to  her  since  day  one  so  she  never  had  to  worry  about  a  thing,  which  made  her  come  off  as  shallow  and  conceited.  still,  people  find  her  endearing;  she  was  never  a  mean  girl  although  she's  part  of  the  popular  crowds  at  school,  having  joined  the  cheerleading  team  since  her  freshman  year.

(  death  tw  )  her  grandpa  passed  away  right  before  her  high  school  graduation.  it  took  her  a  while  to  get  over  his  death,  considering  how  close  she  was  with  him,  but  her  parents  had  been  there  for  her  throughout  it  all.  she  stopped  visiting  palmview  since  then,  stayed  in  miami  with  her  family,  only  moving  to  california  when  she's  ready  for  college.

college  was  a  nice  distraction  and  just  like  in  school,  mila  was  thriving.  probably  not  academic  wise,  but  she's  able  to  make  the  most  of  her  time  there.  after  all  it  was  daddy  dearest's  wish  to  have  her  attend  his  alma  mater,  and  mila  only  obliged  because  what  else  was  she  supposed  to  do  ?  even  if  she's  not  interested  in  studying,  most  of  her  friends  were  going  anyway,  so  she'd  go  for  the  experience.

once  she  graduated,  mila  went  back  to  miami.  her  parents  let  her  stay  for  a  bit  before  suggesting  that  she  should  learn  to  be  independent  now  that  she's  old  enough.  mila  wasn't  too  excited  of  the  idea  of  having  to  do  things  by  herself,  already  gotten  used  to  everything  being  provided  to  her  all  this  time.  she  knew  her  parents  meant  well,  but  that  didn't  mean  she  wouldn't  be  dramatic  about  it.  finally  made  up  her  mind,  mila  decided  to  move  to  palmview  in  an  attempt  to  be  independent;  it  was  daddy  who  paid  for  her  apartment  in  sunny  shores  (  only  until  she  gets  her  first  pay,  that's  the  deal  !  )  and  got  her  the  job  at  cove  wellness  center.

it's  hard  to  navigate  a  whole  new  life  by  herself  in  palmview,  but  mila  is  never  one  to  give  up  easily.  no,  actually,  it  was  something  that  her  brother  has  said,  something  about  mila  not  being  able  to  live  without  her  parents'  help  and  now  she's  determined  to  prove  him  wrong...  it's  been  two  years  since  she  moved  into  palmview  and  mila  could  say  she's  doing  good  -  well,  great,  even  -  although  she  whines  about  it  all  the  time.  she'd  make  it  work  though  !

personality  .

although  she  might  not  be  the  sharpest  tool  in  the  shed,  mila  is  known  to  be  kind  and  affectionate.  the  type  to  wear  her  heart  on  her  sleeves;  has  been  told  she's  bad  at  hiding  her  feelings  because  of  this,  you  could  literally  tell  it  from  the  look  on  her  face.  as  much  as  she  tries  to  be  in  denial  about  it,  mila  constantly  craves  attention  and  validation  from  people  around  her.  always  feels  like  she's  lacking  something,  although  there's  nothing  a  good  outfit  couldn't  fix.  falls  in  love  very  easily  and  probably  has  a  different  crush  every  week.  daydreams  a  lot;  totally  dreams  of  getting  married  to  the  love  of  her  life  one  day  and  starting  her  own  family.  that  being  said  she's  almost  always  dating  somebody,  loves  the  idea  of  being  somebody's  girlfriend.  a  ray  of  fucking  sunshine  and  a  little  bit  of  a  dramatic  queen.  probably  uses  the  i'm  just  a  girl  reasoning  in  every  situation;  knows  she's  pretty  and  will  use  that  to  her  advantage.  again,  she's  just  a  girl  <333

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Ocean Heat for Hurricane Helene

When tropical weather watchers in the U.S. began tracking a disturbance brewing near the Yucatan Peninsula in mid-September, there were already worrisome signs in ocean temperature data for the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea.

Sea surface temperature and ocean heat content data—both derived from satellite observations—showed a tongue of unusually warm water extending north from the Caribbean Sea into the Gulf of Mexico toward the Florida Panhandle. It was a sign that the Loop Current—a variable current that shunts water from the Caribbean Sea into the Gulf of Mexico, around Florida, and up the eastern coast of the U.S.—had shed an eddy of warm water that was lingering uncomfortably close to U.S. shores.

Such features can make storms more dangerous because they provide a store of energy for passing hurricanes to draw from as they approach land, explained Scott Braun, a research meteorologist at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center. “These warm core eddies are a fairly persistent feature in the gulf and represent a deep layer of warm water that is much less likely to be disrupted by strong surface forcing by the hurricane winds,” he said.

The map above shows sea surface temperatures on September 23, based on data from the Multiscale Ultrahigh Resolution Sea Surface Temperature (MUR SST) project, a NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory effort that blends measurements of sea surface temperatures from multiple NASA, NOAA, and international satellites, as well as ship and buoy observations. Surface waters above 27.8 degrees Celsius (82 degrees Fahrenheit)—the temperature generally required to sustain and intensify hurricanes—are represented in red on the map. The tongue of warm water is also visible in maps of sea surface temperature anomalies on NASA’s State of the Ocean data viewer.

“A warm ocean isn’t everything when it comes to hurricanes, but it’s a lot,” noted University of Miami hurricane researcher Brian McNoldy as the storm intensified near the Yucatan Peninsula. Not only were much of the seas along the storm’s path up to a “toasty” 31°C, but the warm water ran deep, fueling the storm with what McNoldy described as “a source of high-octane fuel.”

But ocean heat is just one among several factors that together control whether a hurricane intensifies rapidly or fizzles. In Helene’s case, the presence of high vertical wind shear, a patch of dry air on one side of the storm, and that only part of the storm hit the warmest part of the eddy likely helped constrain Helene’s intensity somewhat as it approached Florida. “If the track had gone right along the axis of the eddy, intensification would likely have been even greater,” Braun added. The image above, acquired by the VIIRS (Visible Infrared Imaging Radiometer Suite) sensor on the NOAA-20 satellite, shows Helene in the afternoon of September 25 as wind shear prevented the storm from developing a clear eye and becoming symmetrical.

Nevertheless, Helene underwent bouts of strengthening that met the official threshold for rapid intensification—an increase in the maximum sustained winds of a tropical cyclone of at least 30 knots (35 miles per hour) over a 24-hour period—as it neared Florida on September 25 and 26, fueling a major hurricane.

As Helene neared land on September 26, National Hurricane Center forecasters expected the storm to strike Florida’s Big Bend region as an unusually expansive, Category 3 or 4 storm that could deliver “catastrophic” storm surge and “life-threatening” flash and urban flooding. They warned that storm surges of 10 to 20 feet could swamp some areas, that hurricane-force winds could extend outward for up to 60 miles, and that total rainfall accumulations between 6 and 18 inches were possible. Since the storm was moving rapidly (more than 15 miles per hour), they cautioned that gusts could cause significant damage far inland, including portions of northern Florida, Georgia, and the Carolinas, after it made landfall.

On September 25 and 26, bands of rain influenced by the storm had started to hit the Southeast, well before the center of the storm got near the coast. “This rain is likely due to moisture moving over a frontal zone to the north of the storm,” Braun said. “This means that significant flooding may occur. All of this precursor rain is saturating the ground, so when the storm does make landfall, there will be little absorption of rain into the ground.”

NASA’s Disasters program has activated to support the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) and other agencies responding to the storm. The team will be posting maps and data products on its open-access mapping portal as new information becomes available about flooding, power outages, precipitation totals, and other topics.

People tracking sea surface temperatures or other aspects of the storm can do so using NASA’s State of the Ocean data browser, the near real-time data viewer from the Short-term Prediction Research and Transition (SPoRT) project at NASA Marshall Space Flight Center, and the U.S. Naval Research Laboratory’s Tropical Cyclone Web. Daily sea surface temperature data from the SPoRT team is also used in NOAA’s nowCoast mapping platform, a tool designed for coastal communities and maritime users. It also powers part of McNoldy’s Tropical Atlantic Headquarters website, a data hub for meteorologists.

NASA Earth Observatory images by Wanmei Liang, using data from the Multiscale Ultrahigh Resolution (MUR) project, VIIRS data from NASA EOSDIS LANCE, GIBS/Worldview, and the Joint Polar Satellite System (JPSS), and storm track data from NOAA's National Hurricane Center. Story by Adam Voiland.

[astralfms]

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { VERONICA LEE } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { SHE } is ? they kind of look like { PARK SOO YOUNG } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { 28 } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { 13 YEARS  }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { SAMANTHA JONES } from { SEX AND THE CITY }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { COVE WELLNEST CENTER } as a { ESTHETICIAN }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { THE AESTHETE } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { CALLOUS } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { IMAGINATIVE } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { 3 BEDROOM } apartment beside me over in { SUNNY SHORES }. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!  { MARCY. 25. SHE/THEY. CST. }

statistics:

full name: veronica lee

nicknames: ronnie, ron

birthday: august 27, 1996

hometown: miami, florida

occupation: esthetician, aspiring artist

hobbies: upcycling thrift finds, embroidery

lives: sunny shores

background:

growing up the child of a famous boxer certainly had it’s perks, giving ronnie a taste for a life of luxury she would soon realize she loved. an absolute daddy’s girl at heart, her mom made sure she was there to celebrate after every match. the time not spent at venues or gyms was dedicated to family trips, both parents ensuring that ronnie was always certain she was the center of their world.

trying on her mom’s clothes and putting on fashion shows for her and her friends soon became ronnie’s top hobby, encouraging her mom to start letting her put together outfits of her own and picking items when they went shopping. fashion was clearly an outlet for her, learning to use a sewing machine proficiently by nine and following complex patterns by ten.

though she has a knack for it, the process of designing and making clothing and accessories was never her passion. she much preferred to wear them, loving the way certain pieces made her feel and loving even more how people thought they looked on her. upcycling became a side gig through high school, her parents wanting her to have a job to learn responsibility after moving to palmview for a quieter life.

her true passion however, lies in art. her favorite class since elementary, ronnie seemed to find a different side of herself on canvas. family trips included frequent stops for ronnie to pop out a quick sketch, filling more sketchbooks than she had years alive. these sketches were turned to canvases when they returned from their trips, and filled nearly the entire art room her parents set up for her. her parents and teachers encouraged her to enter them into local art competitions, which she did, and often brought home gold. painting gave her a way to express herself in a softer way than words, which typically came out harsh.

as she approached the age for college, she begrudgingly applied for universities close to home, the need to please her parents deeply engrained. it was here she met her best friend, each never seen without the other. those around them always wondered, but the rumors were baseless until sophomore year when the two shared a kiss, leaving ronnie out of a best friend and full of regrets. she dropped out soon after winnie cut contact, much to her parents dismay, and pursued esthetician school which she practices part time while chasing her art career.

in her free time, she’s found in her art studio, commissions to be filled, or, a new project always at the forefront of her mind. most of her time is spent trying to get more exposure, the esthetician job mostly a side gig at this point for her. while she loves her clients and coworkers, it’s simply a means to an end until she can live her dream life. she’s received a few offers from galleries to showcase her work, but the ultimate goal would be to own a gallery of her own, filled with her art and spaces for aspiring artists to showcase theirs.

[give-me-a-movie-camera]

I was watching I Love Lucy on Pluto TV last night and it completely slipped my mind that yesterday marked Desi Arnaz’s 106th birthday.

His was a classic Riches-to-Rags, Rags-to-Riches Cinderella tale. Desiderio Alberto ‘Desi’ Arnaz y de Acha III was born 2 March 1917 in Santiago de Cuba, Oriente Province, Cuba, the only son of wealthy landowner Desiderio Alberto Arnaz y de Alberni II (a prominent Cuban politician, who, to date, was the youngest mayor of Santiago de Cuba from 1923 to 1932) and his wife, Dolores ‘Lolita’ de Acha y de Socías (one of the most beautiful women in the Caribbean, the daughter of a businessman, one of three founders of Bacardi Rum Limited, the world's largest privately-owned spirits company). Desi was of the small but vastly privileged, upper-class y de Acha, the descendent of Cuban nobility of whose colonial ancestors originated from Santander, Provincia de Cantabria, Cantabria, Spain. (His grandfather, Dr Desiderio Alberto Arnaz y Alberni I, was assigned to the first United States volunteer cavalry in Cuba, the ‘Rough Riders’ under the leadership of ‘Hero of Cuba’ Theodore Roosevelt during the Spanish-American War on 1 July 1898. To legend, they sieged San Juan Hill on horseback, and though the forged conquest did not belong primarily to Roosevelt, for the conflict was an integrated effort between the white volunteer regiment and the 1,250 black Buffalo Soldiers, the famed battle gained Cuba her independence from Spain—a victory for the people, the Cuban people).

At the height of the Cuban Revolution of 1933, Desi and his family were forced to flee their Motherland, leaving their riches behind. Following a brief election, the government collapsed with the removal of President Gerardo Machado y Morales from office in August of 1933. The opposing anarchists seized all political leaders and stripped them of their power. Among them, Desi’s father, imprisoned by the regime, before his brother-in-law, Alberto de Acha, intervened on his behalf, thus making his escape to Miami, where he was to remain in exile. Having lost their holdings to the rebels who confiscated their property (their palatial home, a cattle ranch, two dairy farms, and a vacation villa on a private island in Santiago Bay), his father sent for Desi and his mother, who took refuge in Key West, Monroe, Florida in 1934. When Desi washed upon the shores of the Americas, his father had established an import-export company, where the family of three took up frugal lodgings in the company warehouse and dined on cans of cold beans. Desi came to live in New York City and Los Angeles for about one year, where he tightened his belt for survival and scrambled for employment as a struggling musician. Following an engagement as a guitar player for a Latin-American band at the Roney Plaza Hotel in Miami Beach, and a cursory stint with the Xavier Cugat Orchestra in 1937, he made his Broadway debut in the Rodgers and Hart musical Too Many Girls, where he reprised the role for RKO's major motion picture of the same name in 1940. During the course of filming, he fell head-over-heels for the Apricot Queen, Lucille Désirée Ball. The couple eloped on 30 November 1940 in Greenwich, Fairfield, Connecticut. By 1949, at the age of thirty-two, Desi established himself a renowned nightclub entertainer as conga-playing band leader for the travelling self-titled Cuban orchestra.

Most Hollywood buffs would do well to remember the Power Couple formed by Desilu Productions—a celluloid empire built on the backs of Lucy and Desi’s American Dreams, despite the public scandals and tumultuous marital woes. But at the crowning glory of their golden existence, there are those who neglect Desi's legacy and his reluctant resignation to his fate as the Man Behind the Curtain, to remain in Lucy’s shadow so long as he lived. Lucy, of whose celebrity distinction was of higher standing than her husband’s. Desi, though undoubtedly talented, who was not exempt from the unjust ostracization and societal prejudice that plagued him as a Cuban Spaniard immigrant in racially-charged Hollywood. For those who clutched their pearls at the prospect of Middle American households who might've dismissed acceptance of the world’s first interracial couple on television, Lucy and Desi defied those expectations and dissolved racial barriers in an era dominated by cultural strife. Audiences of all races, colour, and creed came together to shower the Ricardos with adoration and praise, because they came to understand the Ricardos epitomized the human experience, no matter that they didn't reflect the typical post-war domestic demographic. Against all odds, the world fell in love with the All-American Ricardos… white, Hispanic, or otherwise. Lucy and Desi, to be envied by all... America's Sweethearts.

On his 106th birthday, we remember Desi for the pioneer he was, as the Mastermind behind the nation’s most Beloved Redhead.

Behind every great woman lies a greater man.

Perhaps Desi speaks for us all when he declared his everlasting love, in his own words... ‘I Love Lucy was never just a title.’

💓 Happy Heavenly Birthday, Desi.  💓

       𓆩♡𓆪 · ・ 𓆩♡𓆪 · ・ 𓆩♡𓆪 · ・𓆩♡𓆪 · ・ 𓆩♡𓆪 · ・

[newsarticle4u]

Lionel Messi House in Miami and Barcelona: Cost, Inside Photos and Net Worth

Lionel Messi and his wife, Antonella Roccuzzo, acquired a lavish mansion in Miami after Lionel joined Inter Miami’s professional team in July 2023. The couple invested approximately 50 million USD (around Rs 413 crore) in this stunning property. Situated on a uniquely shaped island, the estate ensures complete privacy for the family. Known for its exclusive location, Lionel Messi’s Miami residence is celebrated as a masterpiece of contemporary architecture. Designed by renowned designer Lori Morris, the modern mansion has garnered attention, even being featured in Florida Design magazine.

source: Miami Herald

Lionel Messi, who shares three sons with Antonela Roccuzzo, an Argentinian social media influencer and model, recently became the proud owner of a sprawling 10,500-square-foot estate. This impressive residence features 8 bedrooms, 9.5 bathrooms, a three-car garage, and a luxurious pool.

source: Miami herald

Represented by Samuel and Donna Simpkin of Compass Florida, Messi purchased the home nestled in a quiet cul-de-sac within the exclusive Bay Colony community. Notably, this area saw a record-setting purchase in 2021 by Patrick Bet-David, an author and social media influencer.

The ultra-modern mansion, occupying less than half an acre, boasts two boat docks, a spa, a fitness room, and an expansive 1,600-square-foot primary bedroom suite. Annual property taxes for the estate are estimated to be around $83,400, reflecting its substantial value and amenities.

source: Miami herald

Also Read: Taylor Swift Mansions

Lionel Messi Barcelona House Address

Lionel Messi House in Barcelona address is Passeig de la Creu, Castelldefels, Barcelona, Spain

source: pinterest

The exterior of Messi's house is truly a sight to behold. Elegantly designed, it features beautiful architecture with side stairs adding to its charm. Messi, an avid fan of high-intensity sports, has an enormous yard that reflects this passion. In this expansive space, he practices his skills, constantly striving to break his own records. It’s also where he enjoys playing football with his dogs. Messi’s commitment to his family is evident in the quality time he dedicates to them, showcasing his ability to balance his professional pursuits with personal life.

Lionel Messi's house, located just 12 miles from Camp Nou, is a haven of luxury and convenience. The property features a football field, a swimming pool, an indoor gym, and a children's playground. It offers breathtaking views, including the stunning Balearic Sea.

Messi's residence is situated along the Spanish coastline in the affluent Bellamar neighborhood of Castelldefels. Since choosing Bellamar as his home in 2009, the upscale neighborhood, about 25 kilometers south of Barcelona's city center, has seen significant growth and revaluation.

The football legend initially invested 1.8 million dollars in the property in 2009 and spent an additional 6 million dollars on renovations and personalizations to suit his tastes. Messi's home boasts many open terraces and large panoramic windows that provide stunning views of the beautiful Catalan hills and the Mediterranean shore.

Lionel Messi house living room

More than just a living room, Messi's lounge is a cozy nap corner, often used by him and his toddlers for power naps on the oversized couch. The lounge is tastefully adorned with Mediterranean motifs, enhancing the area’s overall design. A grey patterned rug beautifully complements the dark and light sofas, which rest on chestnut-toned floors. The room features a diverse color scheme with beige and brown tones, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

The main attraction of the room is a wall adorned with floral pattern motifs, creating a focal point that separates it from the rest of the house with a stylish glass partition. Mix-and-match cushions add to the sofa's attractiveness, making the space both functional and aesthetically pleasing.

Lionel Messi house: T-shirt Collection Room

Messi's passion for football is unmistakable in his dedicated room for his extensive t-shirt collection. This space perfectly blends black and white decor, showcasing over 50 jerseys from various football legends. Among the prized items is his complete collection of Ronaldinho's shirts, reflecting their strong bond and mutual respect.

The room also honors other great players, featuring jerseys from Gerard Piqué, PSG winger Ángel Di María, and Roma legend Francesco Totti. This impressive display underscores Messi's deep appreciation for the sport and its players. Striking glass exhibits on the floor and ceiling add to the room's overall grandeur, making it a true homage to football.

Also Read: Rohit Sharma House

Lionel Messi house: playing area

As a football player, Messi is also a huge fan of other energetic sports, and his expansive yard showcases this passion. Here, he hones his skills, constantly striving to surpass his personal records. The yard is also a place where he enjoys playing football with his dogs, combining his love for the game with family time. Messi's dedication to his family is evident in the significant time he spends with them, reflecting his commitment to balancing his professional and personal life.

Lionel Messi house: Gym Area

The mansion boasts a dedicated workout space, a football field, and a swimming pool. For Messi, football alone isn't enough; he emphasizes core strength training with a variety of machines. The standout feature in his indoor gym is the step climber. What makes it unique? The names of his family members are etched into the stairs, and a carved Number 10 at the base, representing the number he proudly wears on his blue and white jersey, adds a personal touch. This distinctive design element not only enhances the gym’s functionality but also symbolizes Messi's deep connection to his family and his sport.

Lionel Messi M-shaped house.

One of the most decorated football players, Lionel Messi, has made significant strides not only on the field but also in the real estate sector. His 2023 purchase exemplifies the luxurious lifestyle he leads. In 2023, Messi and his wife Antonella Roccuzzo invested in another lavish property in Miami.

Purchased for a staggering 50 million USD (around Rs 413 crore), the mansion is designed in an M-shape, symbolizing his name. The interior includes personal touches, such as his signature and name featured in various rooms, making it truly his home.

Situated on a ship-shaped island, Messi's Miami house follows a futuristic concept. This architectural marvel spans three levels and offers complete privacy for the family in an exclusive location. The design and location of the mansion not only showcase modern architecture but also provide a serene and private retreat for Messi and his loved ones.

Lionel Messi Net worth:

According to Forbes' list of highest-paid athletes, Lionel Messi tops the chart with annual earnings of 130 million USD. Of this total, 75 million USD comes from his sports endeavors, while the remaining 55 million USD is earned through endorsements and other business ventures. With a net worth exceeding 600 million USD, Lionel Messi is considered the richest football player in the world.

Frequently Asked Questions:

1. Who is Lionel Messi?

Lionel Messi is an Argentine professional footballer widely regarded as one of the greatest players of all time. He has spent the majority of his career at FC Barcelona, where he achieved numerous records and accolades

2. How many houses does Lionel Messi own?

Lionel Messi owns several properties around the world, including residences in Barcelona, Miami, and other locations where he has lived during his career.

3. What are some features of Lionel Messi's house in Barcelona?

Messi's house in Barcelona is reported to have a football field, swimming pool, and various amenities suited for relaxation and family activities.

4. How many children does Lionel Messi have?

Lionel Messi has three children with his wife, Antonela Roccuzzo. They are named Thiago, Mateo, and Ciro Messi Roccuzzo.

5. Where was Lionel Messi born and raised?

Lionel Messi was born on June 24, 1987, in Rosario, Argentina. He grew up in a modest neighborhood in Rosario, where his talent for football was evident from a young age.

6. What is Lionel Messi net worth?

With a net worth exceeding 600 million USD, Lionel Messi is considered the richest football player in the world.

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[airlinestravelnews]

Miami, Florida: Where Sunsets and Skyscrapers Meet

Miami, Florida, a vibrant metropolis nestled along the southeastern coast of the United States, is a city of unparalleled allure. From its breathtaking sunsets to its towering skyscrapers, Miami offers a unique blend of natural beauty and urban sophistication. In this article, we delve into the captivating essence of Miami, exploring its diverse attractions, cultural richness, and the dynamic interplay between its natural landscape and architectural marvels.

Sunsets Over the Magic City:

Miami is renowned for its mesmerizing sunsets that paint the sky with hues of fiery orange, soft pink, and golden yellow. Whether you're strolling along the sandy shores of South Beach or gazing out from a waterfront terrace, each sunset in Miami is a spectacle to behold. The city's coastal location provides the perfect vantage point to witness nature's masterpiece unfold against the backdrop of the glittering ocean waters.

Skyscrapers That Define the Skyline:

Miami's skyline is a testament to its modernity and progress, adorned with gleaming skyscrapers that punctuate the horizon. From the iconic silhouette of the Freedom Tower to the sleek lines of the Brickell City Centre, these architectural marvels stand as symbols of Miami's status as a global city. The juxtaposition of glass and steel against the azure sky creates a captivating visual panorama that captivates residents and visitors alike.

Cultural Fusion and Diversity:

Miami's cultural tapestry is as diverse as its population, reflecting a vibrant fusion of influences from around the world. From the colorful murals of Wynwood to the historic neighborhoods of Little Havana and Little Haiti, each corner of the city tells a unique story. Art galleries, museums, and performance venues abound, offering a rich tapestry of cultural experiences that celebrate Miami's multicultural identity.

Outdoor Oasis:

Beyond its urban landscape, Miami boasts an abundance of outdoor recreational opportunities that beckon adventurers and nature enthusiasts. The city's lush parks, scenic waterfronts, and pristine beaches provide endless opportunities for relaxation and adventure. Whether it's paddleboarding along Biscayne Bay, exploring the Everglades National Park, or simply basking in the sun at one of Miami's famed beaches, outdoor enthusiasts will find no shortage of activities to indulge in.

Culinary Delights:

Miami's culinary scene is a melting pot of flavors, reflecting the diverse heritage of its residents. From sizzling Cuban cuisine to innovative farm-to-table fare, the city offers a gastronomic journey like no other. Food enthusiasts can explore a tantalizing array of eateries, from upscale restaurants helmed by celebrity chefs to hidden gems tucked away in vibrant neighborhoods. Whether you crave authentic Latin American flavors, fresh seafood delicacies, or international fusion cuisine, Miami's dining scene promises to delight the palate.

Conclusion:

In Miami, Florida, the convergence of sunsets and skyscrapers creates an enchanting tapestry of beauty and wonder. From its stunning natural landscapes to its iconic architectural landmarks, the city offers a captivating blend of urban sophistication and tropical allure. Whether you're drawn to its vibrant cultural scene, outdoor adventures, or culinary delights, Miami beckons with endless possibilities, inviting you to experience the magic of a city where sunsets and skyscrapers meet in perfect harmony.

[myth-blossom]

MAH GURL!!!!!! I have a song that has never left my ears for the past 3 years. It’s called ‘Undo’ by Cool Joke. The original song is in Japanese, so I here is the song with the English translation.

https://youtu.be/NwaUaO_x-Ys

Hi Magenta! Thank you for the song request, it’s such a good one! I listened to both versions you’ve shared with me, including the English cover I’ve linked below. I hope you enjoy what the song inspired 😊

*Note: Bittersweet; mentions major character death

The brothers basked in the afternoon warmth as the lake shimmered under the sun. Two ducks waddled to the shore and shook the water from their feathers, eager to join the rest of their hungry flock near the bench. 47 tossed more grapes to his new friends before resting the bowl in his lap. 

“So, Agent 47…the world’s deadliest flamingo—I mean, assassin.” 

Grey peered at 47 to gauge his reaction. He briefly closed his eyes and shook his head, the classic sign of one’s internal sigh. Grey chuckled. 

“Diana?” 47 asked, hazarding a guess. 

“No, though I’m sure she has a great deal to say about your unusual exploits,” he grinned. “Olivia found a press photo of your mascot stunt in Miami.”

47 grimaced as he recalled the pink costume he used to pursue Sierra Knox. The flamingo suit had been quite itchy and unbearably hot, which only got worse the longer he wore it in the balmy Florida heat. It wasn’t one of his finer moments, but it had given Diana a good laugh (and, apparently, Grey and Olivia as well).

“Perhaps that’s why these ducks are so friendly towards you,” Grey continued. “Birds of a feather, as they say.”

47 smiled as a chorus of quacks rose around them, ready for more treats. He offered Grey the bowl as the ducks moved in expectantly. Grey took a handful of sliced grapes and tossed them carefully amongst the feathered crowd before taking two pieces for himself. He hummed in approval at their taste.

“These are delicious,” he said, reaching for more as a duck waddled closer to the bench. “It’s no wonder why they like them so much. You grew these yourself?”

“Yes, they’re from my garden,” 47 confirmed with pride.

Grey looked towards the impressive residence behind them and smiled fondly. 

“You’ve done well for yourself here, 47. This is a fine home.”

47’s breath hitched as a cool breeze blew in from the lake. He placed the grape bowl back in his lap, the ceramic feeling heavier than it seemed earlier when it was full. He stared ahead at the shimmering water as he fought to keep his voice firm.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I wish you were here to see it.”

47 felt a hand clasp his shoulder in comfort.

“I know,” Grey said quietly. “I wish I could.”

“It feels wrong to enjoy this freedom when you never got that chance.”

“There’s no need for survivor’s guilt,” his brother said firmly.

47 stayed silent. The bowl was suddenly empty of grapes despite its hefty weight on his thighs. His feathered friends were gone, their quacks growing distant after having retreated back into the lake.

Grey squeezed the hand on his shoulder, encouraging 47 to face him. He clenched his fist and looked away from the lonely scenery to Grey’s serious expression.

“It’s fine to visit your memories, but…please don’t keep yourself in the past. Enjoy the present you’ve earned and the love that’s waiting for you there. You deserve to be happy.”

47 blinked as hot tears prickled his eyes. He rested his hand over Grey’s and squeezed as the sunlight began to saturate everything around them, his dream signaling its end. Grey smiled warmly, his final words echoing as the world faded into the light.

“You deserve a good life, 47.”

47 slowly awoke from his deep slumber. He found himself in the peaceful morning quiet of their bedroom, his companion snuggled cozily against him under the sheets. He felt the soothing warmth of her hand upon his face as she stroked his cheek, causing a sigh to escape from his lips. She lifted her head off his chest to look up at him as he stirred.

“47?” Diana asked softly.

He must have been speaking in his sleep again, he realized. An occasional side effect of the antidote Grey had administered so long ago. He inhaled deeply to center himself before he met her loving gaze, grateful for the reality that awaited his wounded heart.

“Are you alright?”

47 pulled Diana closer and kissed her deeply in response. He rested his hand upon hers, pulling away slightly from her lips to rest their foreheads against each other.

“I am now.” 

[cymlea]

Bridging Horizons: A Transcendent Finale

As your exploration of Florida and New York reaches its zenith, consider the grandeur of the journey you've undertaken—the interplay of sunlit beaches, towering skyscrapers, and the myriad hues of cultural diversity. Your odyssey is more than a mere traversal between states; it's a testament to the interconnectedness of experiences, a tapestry woven with the threads of discovery.

Sunrise on the East Coast, Sunset on the West:

Embrace the symbolic transition from sunrise to sunset, a metaphor for your expedition from the east coast of Florida to the western landscapes of New York. Witness the celestial journey, a celestial ballet that mirrors your earthly adventure.

Capturing the Essence:

Capture the essence of each destination not just through photographs but through the sensations imprinted on your soul. The warm embrace of Florida's sun, the rhythmic lull of waves, the cosmopolitan heartbeat of New York—all are etchings in the gallery of your memories.

Reflecting by the Water's Edge:

Find reflective moments by the water's edge, whether it be the Atlantic's gentle caress along Florida's shores or the contemplative embrace of the Hudson River. Let the waters mirror the revelations and insights garnered throughout your sojourn.

A Melody of Urbanity and Nature:

Listen to the harmonious melody that emerges when the urban rhythms of Miami blend with the natural symphony of upstate New York. Recognize that even in the contrasts, there is a sublime melody of coexistence.

The Lure of Uncharted Avenues:

Feel the allure of uncharted avenues, beckoning you to explore beyond familiar horizons. In Florida's untamed wilderness and New York's urban alleys, discover the thrill of stepping into the unknown and the joy of unscripted moments.

Cultural Weavings:

Marvel at the intricate weavings of culture, history, and tradition. In Florida's storied past and New York's tapestry of immigrant narratives, find the common threads that unite diverse communities and enrich the narrative of the American experience.

A Journey Beyond Borders:

Acknowledge that your journey extends beyond geographical borders. It's a journey of self-discovery, cultural immersion, and the realization that every destination, no matter how distinct, contributes to a universal story of human exploration.

Crafting the Epilogue:

As your dual-state odyssey draws to a close, consider crafting the epilogue—a reflection on the transformative power of travel. Share your narrative, weaving together the landscapes, faces, and moments that have shaped your understanding of these two remarkable states.

A Heartfelt Adieu:

Bid a heartfelt adieu to the states that have opened their arms to your wanderlust. Whether it's the sun-drenched beaches of Miami or the city lights of Manhattan, express gratitude for the hospitality and beauty that have enriched your journey.

Carrying the Essence Forward:

Carry the essence of Florida and New York forward. Let the lessons learned and the memories made become guiding lights for future travels. Your dual-state odyssey isn't just a chapter; it's a compass pointing towards the next horizons waiting to be explored.

Final Words: A Journey Unbound

As you conclude this exceptional journey through the landscapes of Florida and New York, remember that the true beauty lies not just in the destinations but in the profound connections forged along the way. Your footsteps have left an indelible mark on the shores, streets, and hearts encountered.

May your future adventures be as boundless as the horizons you've glimpsed, and may the memories of Florida and New York continue to echo in your heart. As you step into the world beyond, know that the spirit of exploration is a perpetual flame, lighting the way for journeys yet to unfold.

Safe travels, intrepid explorer, as you continue to embrace the beauty of uncharted paths and the wonders that await beyond every bend in the road. The odyssey is yours, unbound and limitless.