This Is A Piece Of Art. I'm Almost Crying And I'm In Class, So I Can't. It's Perfect And Now I Need A

This is a piece of art. I'm almost crying and I'm in class, so I can't. It's perfect and now I need a part 2 to see how he suffers when he realises that she's not his and it's never coming back. I don't care if she's with Oscar or not, I just need to hug her and see that she's happy. Thank you for your amazing writing and for the time spent creating this beautiful thing. 💖💖❤️❤️

HEAR ME (PURPLE LACED BRA) | LN4

an: i've been dying to post something to this so i'm glad i finally have something written - hope you guys enjoy it! go listen to so close to what!!

wc: 4.6k

HEAR ME (PURPLE LACED BRA) | LN4

THE MUSIC WAS DEAFENING, the bass shaking the floor beneath her heels, but she barely heard it. She stood at the edge of the VIP section, half-watching the celebration unfold in front of her. The club was packed—champagne bottles with sparklers, models draped over the backs of velvet sofas, cameras flashing every few seconds. And at the centre of it all was Lando.

He was grinning, drink in hand, surrounded by his team and a few celebrities she half-recognised. Another win. Another podium. Another reason for the world to love him. And they did—God, they did. Everyone wanted a piece of him.

She used to feel lucky just to stand beside him. Now, she wasn’t sure if she even existed in his world at all.

A hand brushed against the small of her back. She startled, turning to see Lando looking down at her with that easy, practised smirk—the one that melted screens and made headlines.

“Where’ve you disappeared to?” he asked, pulling her into his side. His hand rested low on her waist, fingers playing at the hem of her dress. He didn’t wait for an answer before leaning down, his lips grazing her ear. “Come on, don’t do that thing where you get all quiet on me.”

Her jaw clenched. He said it like it was a mood she put on, like she was being difficult. But what was the point of speaking when he never heard her?

So she did what she always did. She tilted her head, plastered on a smile, let him pull her closer. He liked her like this—silent, beautiful, easy.

A photographer stepped forward, camera ready. Lando straightened, his grip tightening just slightly, and just like that, she knew her role. She shifted towards him, leant into the picture, let them capture exactly what they wanted: The driver and his perfect girl.

But she was starting to wonder if that was all she would ever be.

The camera flash flickered, catching the sharp angles of Lando’s jaw, the gleam of his watch, the perfect way her body fit against his. The photographer gave him a nod of approval before turning away, already chasing after someone else worth capturing.

Lando exhaled through his nose, his grip on her easing now that the moment had passed. “See?” he murmured, pressing a kiss against her temple. “Was that so hard?”

Her smile didn’t waver. It never did. But something in her chest twisted so tightly she almost felt breathless.

He turned back to his conversation, already lost in some animated discussion about the race, his hands moving as he recounted the final laps. She knew the words before they left his mouth—the same adrenaline-fuelled debrief he gave after every win. The late braking, the perfect strategy call, the rivals he left in his dust.

He was electric when he spoke about racing. It was the only time she ever saw him truly alive.

She used to love watching him like this. Now, she just felt like a shadow beside him.

Her fingers skimmed the rim of her untouched drink as she scanned the room. Everywhere she looked, people were watching him. Not her. Never her. She could disappear right now and no one would notice.

Well—almost no one.

Lando’s teammates, Oscar, was watching her from across the table. He had that knowing look in his eye, the one that made her stomach twist. He always seemed to see things, things she wasn’t ready to admit.

She turned away before he could say anything.

“I’m going to the loo,” she said quietly, but Lando didn’t even glance at her. He just gave a distracted nod, still deep in conversation.

Of course.

She stepped away, weaving through the throng of people, their laughter and shouting merging into white noise. The ladies’ toilets were tucked behind a velvet curtain, far enough from the chaos that the music was just a dull thud in the walls. She pushed open the door and exhaled, gripping the edge of the sink as she stared at herself in the mirror.

She looked exactly how she was supposed to. The perfect dress, the flawless makeup, the effortless kind of beauty that people expected from the girlfriend of a star.

But looking perfect had never felt so exhausting.

The door swung open behind her, and she braced herself, half-expecting one of the other WAGs to stroll in. Instead, it was Oscar.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. “You alright?”

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “That’s a stupid question.”

“Maybe.” His gaze didn’t waver. “But I think you should hear yourself answer it.”

Her throat tightened.

Because the truth was, she wasn’t alright. And she was starting to think she never had been.

She turned back to the mirror, gripping the porcelain edge of the sink as if it could steady her. Behind her, Oscar hadn’t moved. He wasn’t pushing her to answer, but his silence said enough.

“I’m fine,” she said, forcing the words out smoothly. Too smoothly.

Oscar huffed a quiet breath, tilting his head slightly. “That’s not the answer I was hoping for.”

She met his gaze in the mirror, and for a second, something flickered in her chest—something that made her want to fold, to speak, to say all the things she’d been swallowing down for too long.

But what was the point? She could scream at the top of her lungs, and Lando still wouldn’t hear her.

She turned away, brushing past Oscar as she pulled open the door. “I should get back.”

“Should you?” His voice was quiet but steady.

She paused.

Oscar sighed, shifting his weight. “Look, I know it’s not my business, but I see the way he looks at you. And I see the way you look when he’s not.”

Her breath hitched slightly. She hated that he noticed. She hated that someone had caught onto the thing she’d spent months trying to ignore.

Still, she forced a light laugh, giving him an amused glance over her shoulder. “You analysing me now?”

His lips twitched. “You could say that. You know, body positioning determines whether or not someone’s actually listening.”

The words sent a sharp pang through her chest.

Because Lando never did listen. She could whisper in his ear, touch him, scream until her throat was raw—but the only time he truly paid attention was when she was undressing, when she was playing the role he wanted her to. And maybe she’d accepted that for a while, maybe she’d let herself believe that was just part of loving someone like him.

But now… now it felt suffocating.

Her phone buzzed.

Lando: Where’d you go? Come back.

No “Are you okay?” No “Do you need me?” Just come back. Like she was a misplaced watch or a forgotten drink.

She swallowed the bitter lump in her throat, forcing another easy smile as she tucked her phone away. “I should go.”

Oscar didn’t stop her. He just nodded, but the look in his eyes stayed with her as she slipped back into the club, where Lando was waiting.

Waiting for her.

Not her thoughts, not her words, not the things that made her her. Just her body, her presence, her silence.

And she was starting to wonder if that was all she’d ever be to him.

The night dragged on. More drinks, more cameras, more mindless conversations she wasn’t part of. She stayed close to Lando, playing the role as she always did, but she felt herself slipping further and further away.

By the time he decided they were leaving, she felt like a ghost in her own body.

As Lando shook hands and exchanged goodbyes with the people that mattered, she glanced towards the bar, her eyes catching on Oscar.

He was already looking at her. His expression was unreadable, but there was something steady in his gaze—something that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t in a long time.

Before she could stop herself, she gave him a small, tired smile.

Oscar didn’t smile back, but the way his jaw clenched slightly told her enough.

Lando’s hand landed on her hip, pulling her back into focus. “Come on,” he murmured, already leading her towards the exit, towards his car, towards another night of being exactly what he wanted.

The drive back to the hotel was quiet, the hum of the McLaren filling the silence between them. Lando was relaxed, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily on her bare thigh.

She stared out the window, watching the city blur past, her thoughts tangled.

Would he hear me more if I whispered? If I touched him the way he wanted? If I played this part forever?

Would he ever hear me?

She barely realised they’d arrived until the car pulled smoothly into the hotel’s private entrance. The valet opened her door, and she stepped out into the warm night air, still feeling that lingering touch on her skin.

The lift ride was just as silent. Lando didn’t notice—he was scrolling through his phone, probably checking messages, reading about his win, soaking in the world’s praise.

She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself.

The moment they stepped into their suite, the tension shifted.

Before she could even take a breath, Lando’s hands were on her, spinning her towards him.

She barely had time to react before he had her pressed against the wall, his body firm against hers, his lips brushing against her neck. “You’ve been quiet tonight,” he murmured against her skin.

She swallowed, her hands coming up to his chest, pushing lightly. “I’m tired.”

Lando barely hesitated. “Come on,” he murmured, his lips trailing down her jaw, his hands sliding over her hips. “Don’t do that.”

That.

That meaning the exhaustion in her voice. That meaning the part of her that wanted something more than this.

“I’m not in the mood, Lando.” Her voice was firmer this time.

He let out a sharp exhale, pulling back just enough to look at her properly. His dark eyes scanned her face, and for a second, she thought—hoped—that maybe he’d see something. Maybe he’d hear something.

But then he just scoffed. “You’re always bloody tired these days.”

And just like that, she knew.

There was no concern in his voice. No question of what was wrong. No care for why she felt like this, for why she had been drifting further and further from him. Just frustration. Just disappointment that she wasn’t giving him what he wanted.

She forced herself to hold his gaze, even as something inside her cracked wide open. “I think I’m going to take a bath.”

Lando studied her for a moment longer, then ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated. “Yeah, whatever.”

And then—just like that—he turned and walked out of the suite, the door clicking shut behind him.

She stood there, frozen.

Not surprised. Not angry.

Just… empty.

And that was the worst part.

She moved through the next couple of hours on autopilot.

She took off her makeup, wiped away the remnants of the night. She ran a bath but barely stayed in it long enough for the heat to sink into her skin. She changed into one of Lando’s oversized shirts, something she always did before bed—more out of habit than comfort now.

And then she sat.

Just sat on the edge of their bed, staring at nothing, the dim glow of the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Her body ached with exhaustion, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. The weight in her chest pressed heavier and heavier until it finally cracked, and before she even realised it, tears spilled over her cheeks.

She sucked in a shaky breath, trying to blink them away. What the hell is wrong with me?

It wasn’t like this was new. Lando had always been like this. She had always been an accessory to him, something to be looked at, shown off, touched when it suited him.

But tonight felt different.

Tonight, she had said no. And he had walked away like she was nothing more than an inconvenience.

A quiet sob broke from her throat, and she buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking.

She didn’t even hear the door open at first.

It wasn’t until she caught the heavy thud of something hitting the sofa that she jolted upright, quickly wiping at her tear-streaked face. Her heart pounded as she turned towards the noise, her breath catching in her throat.

Lando was slumped on the suite’s sofa, looking barely conscious. And standing over him, an arm still half-draped around his shoulders, was Oscar.

Her stomach twisted. “What—?”

Oscar let out a breath, straightening up and shaking his head. “Your boyfriend’s had one too many.”

Her eyes flickered back to Lando. His head lolled against the cushion, his shirt slightly rumpled, his hair a mess. He was clearly out of it.

She swallowed, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Where did you find him?”

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, looking both exasperated and unimpressed. “Slumped in the back of the club, surrounded by people who were more interested in snapping pictures of him than making sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit.” His gaze flicked to hers. “Figured you might want to know.”

Her chest tightened.

Of course. Of course this was how he handled things—getting wasted, drowning himself in attention that didn’t require him to actually feel anything. It was easier than facing his own reflection.

Or maybe… it was easier than facing her.

She let out a slow breath, rubbing at her temple. “Thanks for bringing him back.”

Oscar nodded but didn’t move. He was watching her carefully, like he could still see too much.

Like maybe, just maybe, he knew she had been sitting here crying before he walked in.

Her hands curled into fists in her lap. “You don’t have to stay.”

Oscar hesitated for half a second before his jaw tightened, and he gave a small, reluctant nod. “Alright.”

But as he moved towards the door, he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “You know… if you ever get tired of this,” he gestured vaguely to Lando’s slumped form, “you don’t have to stay.”

Her throat closed up.

Oscar didn’t wait for an answer. He just slipped out the door, leaving her alone with the man who was supposed to love her.

But as she sat there, staring at Lando—passed out, blissfully unaware—she realised something.

She had never felt lonelier in her life.

She sat down on the floor beside the sofa, pulling her knees up to her chest. The carpet was soft beneath her, but everything else felt unbearably sharp.

Her gaze flickered over Lando’s face—the strong jawline, the perfect cheekbones, the dark lashes that cast faint shadows against his skin. He looked almost peaceful like this, lost in whatever drunken haze he had drowned himself in.

Her chest ached as she reached out, fingers threading gently through his hair. It was soft beneath her touch, familiar in a way that made her heart hurt even more.

A quiet sob broke from her lips as she whispered, “Why wasn’t I enough?”

She had loved him so fiercely. She had stood by him, supported him, adored him. She had been everything he wanted her to be—poised, beautiful, silent when it mattered.

And yet, as she sat there, her tears slipping onto the fabric of his shirt, she finally understood.

She had fallen in love with him. But he had only ever fallen in love with her body.

Her hands curled into fists in his shirt as a quiet, broken sound left her throat. She had spent so long trying to be heard, to be seen, but the truth was devastatingly simple. Lando had never wanted to know her. He had never cared about her thoughts, her fears, her soul.

Only how she looked standing beside him. Only how she felt beneath him.

A shaky breath shuddered through her as she slowly pulled back.

Her gaze landed on his phone, lying loosely in his hand.

For a long moment, she just stared at it.

Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she carefully pried it from his grip. He didn’t stir. She tilted it towards his face, and with a soft sound, the lock screen vanished.

Her heart pounded as she pulled up his messages, ready to text Oscar.

But she never got that far.

Because the moment she opened his messages, her stomach dropped.

Hundreds.

Hundreds of messages.

All from different girls.

Some were old, buried beneath months of conversations. Others were recent. Some from tonight.

Her breath caught in her throat as she scrolled. He hadn’t even bothered to be subtle. Flirty messages, suggestive photos, hotel room numbers exchanged without hesitation.

Like it was nothing.

Like she was nothing.

A sharp, painful lump formed in her throat, but no more tears came. Maybe because there was nothing left to grieve.

Because the man she thought she loved?

He had never existed.

Her hands shook slightly as she backed out of the messages and pulled up his texts. She typed quickly, her fingers moving without hesitation.

Lando: What’s your room number?

The reply came almost instantly.

Oscar: Why?

She swallowed hard, staring at the screen. Then, without another thought, she typed back.

Lando: Please. Just tell me.

There was a long pause. Then—

Oscar: 2209.

She exhaled slowly, then locked the phone and set it back beside Lando.

For the first time in a long, long time, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

And for the first time—she wasn’t going to ask for permission.

She didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t stop to second-guess herself.

For so long, she had been trapped in this cycle—ignoring the things she didn’t want to see, pretending everything was fine. But now? The truth had cracked open in front of her, and there was no going back.

She stood up, wiping at her face, even though no more tears had fallen. Her body felt strangely light, like the weight pressing down on her for months had finally started to lift.

But she wasn’t free yet.

She grabbed a bag from the wardrobe, moving quickly, shoving in the essentials—her passport, her wallet, a few clothes. Enough to get her away from here, away from him.

She hesitated when she reached for one of Lando’s oversized shirts—the one she was still wearing. Then, with a bitter exhale, she pulled it off, yanking on a cropped tank top and a pair of shorts instead.

This wasn’t his to keep anymore.

Without a second glance, she slung the bag over her shoulder and walked out of the suite, her pulse hammering as she stepped into the empty hallway.

She didn’t look back.

The corridor outside 2209 was quiet.

Her hands felt clammy as she knocked once. A part of her expected Oscar to ignore it, to assume it was Lando being drunk and annoying.

But after a moment, the door cracked open, and Oscar stood there, his brows pulling together the second he saw her.

“What the hell—?”

“I—” Her voice wavered, and suddenly, everything hit her all at once. The weight of the last few hours. The betrayal. The realisation that the man she had given her heart to had never truly wanted it in the first place.

She dropped her gaze, blinking hard. “I can’t—I can’t stay there.”

Oscar was silent for a beat. Then, without another word, he stepped aside, pulling the door open wider.

She hesitated, guilt twisting in her stomach. “I—I’ll book my own room. I just—needed to get out.”

Oscar’s jaw tensed, his eyes scanning her face. “You’re not booking a hotel at—” he glanced at the clock on the bedside table, “—two in the bloody morning.”

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet huff. “For fuck’s sake, just—get in.”

Her throat closed up, but she nodded, stepping inside as he shut the door behind her.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows. She stood there for a moment, unsure what to do with herself. The adrenaline that had carried her here was wearing off, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion and heartbreak.

She felt Oscar watching her.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” His voice was steady. Not pushing, not demanding. Just there.

That was what undid her.

Because when was the last time anyone had asked her how she felt? When was the last time someone had wanted to hear what she had to say—without conditions, without expectations?

Her shoulders shook as she sucked in a breath, her hand coming up to cover her face.

And then she broke.

A strangled sob ripped from her throat as she sank onto the edge of the bed, the tears she had been holding back finally crashing over her.

Oscar didn’t say anything.

He just moved.

She barely registered it at first—the dip of the mattress beside her, the way his arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest.

For a moment, she stiffened. She wasn’t used to this—to comfort without expectation. But Oscar just held her, warm and solid, one hand rubbing slow circles on her back.

She sobbed harder.

“He never loved me,” she whispered through the tears, her fingers curling into his t-shirt. “I—I thought he did, but he just—he just loved the way I looked. The way I made him look.”

Oscar’s grip on her tightened. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice lower now, almost dangerous. “I know.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. “I was so stupid.”

Oscar exhaled sharply. “You weren’t stupid.”

She let out a hollow laugh. “Then what was I?”

Oscar was quiet for a long time. Then—

“You were in love.”

Her chest tightened painfully.

And maybe that was the worst part.

Because she still was.

Oscar didn’t pull away. He just kept holding her, letting her cry against him. His hands were steady on her back, his touch warm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel like she was carrying the weight of the world on her own shoulders.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, voice muffled in his shirt, her tears soaking into the fabric. “I thought… I thought I could fix it. But I don’t even know who he is anymore. Or who I am to him.”

Oscar’s hand smoothed through her hair, the motion gentle. “You don’t have to fix anything, alright?” he said softly, his voice low and comforting. “You don’t owe him anything. You only owe yourself the truth.”

She nodded weakly, though it felt like a hundred-pound weight was sitting on her chest.

He let her cry for as long as she needed, and when the sobs finally slowed, he shifted slightly, coaxing her to lie down.

“Let me get you into bed,” he murmured.

She wanted to protest, but she was too tired—physically and emotionally—so she allowed him to help her, shifting her legs as he gently guided her onto the mattress. Oscar tucked the blanket around her and, for a moment, just stood there, looking down at her.

Her eyelids were heavy, but she managed to lift her head slightly to meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft, barely a whisper.

Oscar gave her a small smile, but there was no mockery, no playfulness in it—just something real. “Get some sleep. I’m right here.”

She didn’t have the strength to say anything else. Her eyes fluttered shut, and before she knew it, the exhaustion of the day caught up with her.

When she woke up, the room was bathed in the soft morning light. She blinked a few times, groggy, trying to remember where she was, what had happened.

Then the events of the night came flooding back, and her chest squeezed with pain.

But as she stirred beneath the covers, she realised the weight on her was gone. There was no harshness, no cold emptiness pressing in on her. Instead, she smelled something familiar. Something warm.

She turned her head, and there, sitting at the desk, was Oscar.

He was holding a tray with a simple breakfast—croissants, fruit, and coffee. “Morning,” he said with a small smile, looking up from the screen of his phone.

Her stomach grumbled, and she smiled weakly, appreciating the gesture more than she could express. “I didn’t expect this,” she murmured, sitting up slowly.

Oscar grinned, though there was something soft in his eyes. “Well, you’ve had a rough night, haven’t you? Figured you could use something other than room service for a change.”

She nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel completely alone.

After a few moments of eating in silence, she reached for her phone. The screen lit up with a message notification—nothing from Lando.

Her heart skipped, but she told herself not to feel disappointed.

She unlocked her phone and opened Instagram, the app taking a moment to load. She tapped through her feed absentmindedly, but her thumb froze as her eyes landed on a photo—Lando, in his usual athletic wear, standing on a padel court, laughing with some other drivers.

He hadn’t noticed.

She stared at the photo for a long, long time.

He hadn’t even thought to message her.

There it was again. That crushing, suffocating truth.

She had spent the entire night worrying about him, about why he hadn’t cared, about why he had left her feeling like this.

And there he was, looking perfectly fine. Having fun. Living his life without a single care in the world about what she had gone through.

Her breath hitched, and she set her phone down, her hands trembling.

It hit her all over again—the truth that Lando had never cared about her in the way she had hoped. He never would.

The realisation was sharp and brutal. And this time, it didn’t feel like the first time she had felt heartbroken—it felt like the first time she had truly woken up.

She looked up at Oscar, her breath still shaky. He was watching her, waiting for something.

“Lando’s out there,” she whispered, her voice a little too quiet, too small. “He’s out there, laughing, living his life, like nothing happened.”

Oscar nodded, but his expression wasn’t pitying. It wasn’t anything like the way Lando would have looked at her in that moment. “Yeah. He is.”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

Oscar’s gaze softened, and he set the breakfast tray down beside her. He sat next to her on the bed, his hand brushing hers. “You don’t have to figure it out right now.”

She met his eyes, and this time, there was a calmness inside her—a stillness, like she was beginning to see herself for the first time in forever.

“I’m not going to let you stay in that toxic shit,” Oscar said, his voice steady. “You’ve already put up with it for too long. But if you need time, I’m here.”

She didn’t have the words to express what she was feeling, but for once, she didn’t need to.

“Thank you,” she whispered again, the words feeling like the most sincere thing she’d said in a long time.

And in that moment, as she sat beside Oscar, she realised—maybe she could finally let go. Maybe it wasn’t about fixing things with Lando. Maybe it was about fixing herself.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @driverlando

More Posts from Xiscamoony and Others

6 months ago

This one is so sad and soft. It's perfect💖💖💓💓

The World Can Wait

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: no matter whether he’s wearing Ferrari red or Williams blue, standing on the top step of podiums or fighting for points, you’ll love Carlos through it all

The World Can Wait

The podium is eerily quiet now. The lights are dimmed, the bright flashes of cameras long gone, and the chaotic hum of celebration has faded into nothing. The night wraps itself around the circuit like a heavy blanket, but Carlos is still there. Sitting cross-legged on the podium, the silver P2 trophy rests beside him, untouched.

You find him like this after weaving through the empty paddock, the distant sounds of dismantling garages growing fainter as you near him. At first, you’re hesitant. You stop at the base of the podium steps, watching him from the shadows.

His head is tilted back, eyes fixed on the sky, though you doubt he’s really looking at anything. The set of his shoulders is tight, his elbows resting on his knees. He doesn’t notice you.

“Carlos,” you say softly, almost unsure if you should disturb him.

He doesn’t startle. Instead, his gaze drops, and he looks at you. There’s something hollow in his expression, a weariness that no trophy can mask. He doesn’t say anything, just gestures faintly with his hand for you to come up.

You climb the steps slowly, the sound of your shoes against the metal breaking the heavy silence. When you reach him, you hesitate again, standing just a few feet away.

“Are you okay?” You ask, careful, your voice low.

He exhales sharply, almost a laugh but not quite. “Am I okay?” He repeats, shaking his head. He leans forward, running both hands through his hair. “I don’t know, cariño. I don’t think I know how to answer that.”

You lower yourself down beside him, close enough that your knees brush. The chill of the night air seeps into your skin, but you ignore it, your eyes fixed on him. “Talk to me,” you urge gently. “What’s going on in your head?”

He doesn’t respond right away. For a while, the only sound is the distant murmur of the city beyond the circuit. Then he sighs, deep and heavy, as if it’s been trapped inside him all night.

“I’m just ... taking it all in,” he says finally, his voice quiet, almost broken. “I don’t know if I’ll ever stand up here again.”

The weight of his words sinks into your chest. You reach out, your hand brushing against his arm. “Carlos, don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“But I don’t know that I will, either,” he counters, turning to look at you. His dark eyes are glassy under the dim lights, his jaw tight. “It’s Williams next year. Williams. You know what everyone is saying. You know what they expect.”

“Forget what they expect,” you insist. “This isn’t the end for you. It’s just-”

“-a step back?” He interrupts, his tone bitter. He shakes his head again, lips pressing into a hard line. “That’s what they all say, isn’t it? That it’s a ‘rebuilding year,’ a ‘fresh start.’” His voice drops, softer now but no less anguished. “But what if it’s not? What if this really is the end? What if I’ve peaked, and it’s all downhill from here?”

Your heart twists at the vulnerability in his voice. You don’t know how long he’s been holding this in, how long he’s been carrying this fear. “Carlos-”

“Do you know what I thought, standing on that podium tonight?” He cuts you off, his voice thick. He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “I thought, ‘This is it. This is the last time.’ I smiled, I waved, but inside I was just ... empty.”

His voice breaks on the last word, and he swallows hard, looking away from you. But you can see it — his hands trembling slightly, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

You don’t think. You just move. You reach for him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him into you. He doesn’t resist. His head drops against your chest, and that’s when it happens. The tears come fast, silent at first, then with a shuddering breath that rips through him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your hand threading through his hair. “Let it out, baby. I’ve got you.”

He clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, his arms wrapping around your waist. His tears soak through your shirt, but you don’t care. You press your cheek to the top of his head, rocking him gently. “Even if you never stand on another podium,” you whisper, your voice steady, “it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make you any less. It doesn’t make me love you any less.”

He stiffens slightly at your words, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are red, his face streaked with tears. “You say that now,” he says, his voice cracking. “But what if I can’t give you the life you deserve? What if I can’t be-”

“Stop,” you cut him off firmly, your hands cradling his face. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare say you’re not enough for me. Carlos, you are everything. Do you hear me? Everything.”

His eyes search yours desperately, as if looking for something to hold onto. “Promise me,” he whispers. “Promise me you’ll still feel that way, even if ... even if everything goes wrong.”

“I promise,” you say without hesitation, your voice trembling with the weight of it. “On my life. I promise.”

He closes his eyes, a fresh tear slipping down his cheek. You wipe it away with your thumb, your fingers lingering against his skin. Then, slowly, you lean in, your lips brushing against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing still uneven but steadier now. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, you do,” you counter, your hands slipping down to rest on his shoulders. “And if you can’t believe that right now, then believe this: I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

He doesn’t respond with words this time. Instead, he pulls you back into his arms, holding you like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the world. And maybe, for now, that’s exactly what you are.

The night stretches on, the podium still and silent around you. But neither of you moves. The world can wait.


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2 years ago

I was wondering that you could write a Aaron Hotchner x reader but the reader is a doctor and the team don’t know that you exist until hotch one day gets hurt and took to their hospital.

btw love all your fics ❤️❤️

<3333 anonnnnn, you are SO sweet.

-

Your phone had gone off before your pager had, with the nurses’ station calling you, Aaron’s emergency contact, to let you know that he had been admitted, which meant that you were already running towards the A&E, before your pager, calling you in as the doctor on call to the bay you were already running to, started to beep

“Aaron.” You throw back the curtains of the emergency bay, bracing for the worse, to find him seated on the edge of the bed, the nurse pressing a piece of gauze to his forehead.

You assess him from head to toe, your medical training kicking in, he is awake, alert, and upright, which meant to you that he was low risk. It doesn’t prevent you however, from snapping up his chart from the movable table, running through the notes from the paramedic as the nurse busies herself with patching up the scratches on his face.

“You could potentially have a concussion,” you state as you run through the chart, flipping onwards to the next page, “I’m keeping you here overnight.”

“(Y/N)..” he starts, and your eyes snap up to stare directly at him.

“Don’t (Y/N) me Aaron. It says here you jumped towards the bomb, instead of away from it, I think you’ll let me keep you here for one night.” Your eyes narrow as he falters slightly, his posturing sinking with defeat.

“Did she just?”

“Yup.”

“Are they on a first name’s basis?”

“Seems like it.”

The voices behind you have attempted to whisper, but not well enough. You turn, throwing your head over your shoulder to glance at the small crowd, while pulling your stethoscope off from around your neck and positioning it in your ears. A quick look at the guns each of them has buckled to their waist tells you that it’s his team.

“I’m Dr. (Y/L/N)” you throw out to the crowd as you move behind him to place the cool flat edge of the stethoscope on his back. “His girlfriend.”

It earns you a gasp and wide eyes.

“I see no one else was stupid enough to jump towards the bomb?” You say, hearing a deep sigh from Aaron through your stethoscope and a chortle of laughter from Derek.

“No we were not.” Rossi smirks, arms crossing over his chest.


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2 years ago

The Suit

Summary: Hotch guest lectures for his daughter’s criminology class. He ends up having to address Foyet’s impact on his life. AU where Hotch never goes into WitSec and remarries and has more children.

Relationship: RetiredHotch x FemBAURetiredReader (college aged daughter too)

Word Count: 1963

TW: Foyet, spoilers, murder, academia, angst if you squint, protective family

A/N: So many fics about Hotch and Foyet address the hidden pain, fear and not so hidden PTSD Hotch contends with. I wanted to write about Hotch and his post-FBI life/career - something fun and saucy - but, alas, this took on a life of its own. I like the idea of writing about Hotch addressing Foyet in a way that’s more like this happened, and it changed me, and now I can talk about it more objectively all these years later. I can still see his family wanting to protect him from something, though, many years behind him, still painful.

————————————————————-

“Honey?! Honey? Where’s my Armani suit? The gray one? That didn’t go in the donation pile, did it?” he asks, referring to the towering, expensive pile of shirts, suits and ties he donated when he retired. He’s trying to hide it, but he’s clearly nervous.

Keep reading


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2 years ago

I love it so much😍😍

Hi luv! How are you? I would like to request some Tasm!Peter Parker with reader that is shorter than him and loves to write. I hope you like this and that you have a great time writing it! Thank you!

Hii, thank u for this request! I'm sorry it took me so long to write🤧 I hope this is okay and not completely bad lmao😅🥰 (0.6k) warnings: use of y/n and petnames, fluff

You were in the middle of writing, when your favourite pen stopped working. And you know, how just some pens are the pens. You couldn't focus on the writing with a different pen, because it was irritating you. So you decided to go buy it and completely forgot that Peter was supposed to come.

You are walking to the supply shop not far from your apartment, when your phone rings, "Sweetheart, where are you ?" He asks, sounding a little bit worried.

You suddenly remember, that he was coming over, " shit, I'm sorry, Pete. I was writing, when my pen stopped working. I'm on my way to the supply shop near the apartment right now. I completely forgot, you were coming, I'll be back in like 15-"

"I'm coming to you" Peter cuts you off and you can't even respond, because he hangs up.

You barely take a few steps towards the supply shop, when you hear a familiar 'whoosh' sound and it only takes Peter a few seconds to appear at your side.

And Peter, the affectionate person, that he is, picks you right up into his arms and spins you around.

"Pete! Put me down, you idiot," you laugh, "everybody will think, we are crazy!"

Peter puts you finally down and smiles at you, "well I am crazy..." his grin gets even bigger, "crazy for you."

"That was so cheesy, Pete" you giggle and playfully punch him in his arm.

"Yes, but you loved it," he replies and intervenes his hand with yours, as you begin to walk to the shop. "I did not," you lie. You love his cheesiness, even if it makes you cringe sometimes.

"You did and you know it," he argues, voice all cocky and you just shake your head.

"Nope," you deny and try to suppress the smile, that is trying to break out.

"You are clearly lying, sweetheart" he points out the obvious," do you wanna know how i know?"

"How?" you question with a roll of your eyes.

"You always scrunch your nose, when you lie, that's how I always know," he say, grinning and he flicks your nose softly.

"What?"

"It's true, but I think, it's so cute, babe" he pokes your side and laughs, when you glare at him.

"You're mean today."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart" he says and you almost believe him. You want to say something rude to him, but he stops the teasing and asks you about your day. You happily tell him everything, that happened, until you get to the supply shop.

At the shop, you literally look at everything you don't need before getting the pen. Peter is obediently following you around the shop like a lost puppy.

Finally you spot the pen, the only problem is, that it's on the highest shelf.

You stand on your tiptoes, even jump, but it's too high for your small height, you groan in frustration.

"Pete?" you smile sweetly at him.

"Yeah?" he asks. He is looking out of the shop's window, his mind completely somewhere else. You can't blame him, it can't be fun to follow you around the store.

"Could you help me?" you pout. Peter's face immediately lights up, his boredom gone.

"What do you need, lovely?

"Can you get the pen, please?" you point at it, "I can't reach it."

You know the second Peter starts smirking at you, that you are in for teasing (affectionate).

"Ow sweetheart, you are too tiny to reach the top shelf, aren't you?"

"Well, having a boyfriend, that is literally a giant comes in handy then, right?" You banter back.

"That's why you keep me around, huh?" he quips back, you chuckle at that and nod, "Yeah, that's exactly why, " you say and tap him lightly on the cheek.

"Now come on, handsome. We have to get home before I forget, what I wanted to write."

"I'm coming, I'm coming" he laughs and follows you quickly towards the cashier, before you can leave him behind for being too slow.

-

-

-

Thank u for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. 🥰🥰

Have a good day☀️Peace out

2 years ago

Same🥺🥺

The Way A Hug From Him Would Solve Everything In My Life

the way a hug from him would solve everything in my life

1 year ago

Reposting it, to read them all💖💖

Chris Evans Masterlist

Chris Evans Masterlist

Fics with a ❤️‍🔥 contain smut and are 18+. MINORS DNI!

I do not have a schedule please don’t ask when updates will be!

One Shots

Speak Now

Lip Sync Battle

The 2020 Election 

Best friends

Swap

Happy Mother’s Day

Tease

Which Chris?

Hiccups

Surprise!

The girl on set

Evening Activities ❤️‍🔥

Call it Even

Favour

Call me babe for the weekend (Follow up to Call it Even) ❤️‍🔥

Let It Snow

Surprise Visit

Think about it

Floofy Haired Surprise

Floofy Haired Delight ❤️‍🔥

Floofy Haired Treat 

Glammed Up?

Under The Stars

Silver Fox

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to

Rollerblading Hero

Okay Gramps

I told you so

The Perfect Wingman

Dog Sitting

Cuddle Buddy

Sexiest Man Alive ❤️‍🔥

Pumpkin Carving

Sweet Nothings

New Girl In Town (Bookstore AU)

Greatest Regret

Series

Boston ❤️‍🔥

Best Friend’s Brother ❤️‍🔥

The Interview Series

Burnin’ Up (Firefighter AU) ❤️‍🔥


Tags
5 months ago

This one is so cute😍😍🥺🥺

"(Not) dancing in the moonlight" - teacher!Remus Lupin x teacher!reader

"(Not) Dancing In The Moonlight" - Teacher!Remus Lupin X Teacher!reader

A/N: I was in a desperate need for something soft and winterish so uhhh here have this! <3 Headcanons? Memes? Let’s talk! My asks are here.

Warnings: setting of NYE, post-full moon Remus (minor descriptions of physical and mental discomfort), wit/sarcasm, smoking cigarettes, use of mobility aid, minor description of fireworks (hurt/comfort + fluff - mostly major fluff)

Summary: Professor Remus Lupin and his partner spend a soft NYE evening within the walls of Hogwarts. Turns out being on a teacher night duty isn’t so bad when you’re your pupils’ favourite.

Word count: 1.2K+

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist

my AO3 archive is here

"(Not) Dancing In The Moonlight" - Teacher!Remus Lupin X Teacher!reader

"On my heart, where you're resting your head.

And you just look so beautiful.

It's like you were an angel.

Can I stop the flow of time?

Can I swim in your divine?

'Cause I don't think I'd ever leave this place."

"(Not) Dancing In The Moonlight" - Teacher!Remus Lupin X Teacher!reader

“You’ve got options,” you said, holding up two tea bags for him to see. “Which will it be, darling?”

Remus was sitting on the leather sofa of Gryffindor’s common room with his legs propped up on a wooden coffee table.

Unfortunately, Remus ended up being assigned for a New Year’s Eve teacher duty for Gryffindor. At first, you’d been quite disappointed by the fact that you and Remus couldn’t attend New Year’s Eve ball organized in your beloved restaurant in Hogsmeade. It was your annual tradition to go there ever since you were teenagers. The tradition started after Lily and James had found the restaurant – it wasn’t very popular amongst Hogwarts students since it’s on the fancier side. But after going there once you all made a promise to save some money throughout the year so that all of you could go there at least once a year for the New Year’s Eve party. Lily particularly loved the place for the delicious food. She hadn’t been able to stop raving about it for at least a couple of days back at school.  After their passing it felt mandatory for you and Moony to keep the tradition alive.

Even if it wasn’t for the teacher duty your plans would have changed anyway – full moon had fallen right after Christmas leaving Remus drained both physically and mentally. So, the change of plans kind of worked out for the better in a way. The idea of loud crowds and dancing was obviously out of the question. As much as you wanted to enjoy an evening out, you were glad to be with him in a way that didn’t push him beyond what he could handle.

Remus squinted across the room, clearly trying to see what you were holding up, but then he gave up with a small sigh. Leaning forward, he reached for his cane and slowly made his way towards you. The soft taps of the cane against the wooden floor were the only sound besides the crackle of the fireplace.

When he reached you, he stood for a moment, his head tilting as he scanned the options you held in your hands.

“Hmm,” he muttered, his lips quirking into a faint smile as he reached out. He plucked one of the tea bags from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours with a warmth that gave you butterflies.

“I’ll take this one.” He watched you as you carefully poured water into your mugs. You turned over your shoulder to shoo him away and make him settle on the sofa comfortably, careful not to spill the boiling hot water over yourself.

Just as you were about to hand him his mug, the portrait hole creaked open. The cold outer air mixed in with the warm, pine-scented air within the common room.

You turned your head, half-expecting it to be the Fat Lady herself popping in to complain about something. Instead, three familiar figures shuffled in, trying - and failing to move quietly.

Ron tripped, stumbling over the hem of his own robe.

“Shhh!” Hermione hissed, quickly grabbing his arm to steady him.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Ron whispered back, louder than necessary.

She sent him a deathly glare in response.

Harry, stuck in the middle, shot both of them an irritated look before glancing towards the sofa. His blue eyes widened when he spotted you and Remus, clearly realizing they weren’t as sneaky as they thought.

“Weee- we. Umm we-- weren’t expecting anyone to be up.” he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

Remus raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Clearly…There’s nothing more subtle than tripping over your own feet, whisper-shouting, and holding the portrait hole open like you’re inviting Filch in for tea.”

You tried really hard not to laugh at your husband's remark. His quick wit was one of the main reasons why you fell for him in the first place.

Ron turned bright red.

“We weren’t doing anything! Just, uh, checking to see if—”

“You’re sneaking out." you interrupted, crossing your arms completely unable to hide the grin spreading across your face. Their shenanigans reminded you so much of yourself and the rest of marauders back in the day.

“No, we’re not!” Ron protested, which would’ve been more convincing if Hermione didn’t shoot him a sharp don’t-lie-to-a-teacher look.

“Alright, fine. WE ARE sneaking out…” Harry said. Honesty was the best approach in this situation.

“We just wanted to watch the fireworks over the lake. We’ll come right back, I promise.”

You exchanged a glance with Remus, who took a slow sip of his tea, clearly dragging out the suspense just to mess with them. You poked his side noticing Hermione’s pale face.

“Well,” he finally said, setting the mug down, “Fireworks over the lake, huh? Sounds nice."

“But let me guess — you haven’t thought this plan all the way through, have you?” Remus continued.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked defensively.

“We have!” Hermione said quickly, holding up a piece of fabric.

“We’ve got the invisibility cloak.”

Remus tilted his head, looking at the cloak with mock seriousness.

“And how, exactly, are you planning to fit all three of you under it?”

Ron looked down at his feet.

“It might be a liiiittle bit snug.” You shook your head.

“Remus, just let them go. If they get caught, they will have something funny to talk about.”

Remus sighed dramatically, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“Fine. But,” he said, pointing a finger at them, “if you get caught, don’t come crying to me and professor Y/N.”

“Deal!” Harry said quickly, nudging Ron and Hermione back toward the portrait hole.

“Happy New Year!” Ron called over his shoulder.

“Don’t stay up too late professor Lupin — you’re looking a bit peaky! Good night professor Lupin II! Love you both!”

Remus chuckled, shaking his head.

The portrait closed, and you tucked yourself into his side.

“I swear to merlin that boy has absolutely no sense of self-preservation.”

He looked down to search through his pocket to grab his cigarette box and a lighter.

“We’re such pushovers for them.” You said laughing.

“Maybe so,” he admitted with a sincere smile.

He held out his cigarette box motioning to the balcony.

“Fancy a smoke ma’am?”

“Baaad, bad influence Lupin.“

He smirked, lighting his cigarette as he held the balcony door open for you.

“I’ve been called worse.”

You stepped out into the crisp night air, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“But ‘bad influence’ suits you tonight.” He lit your cigarette.

“Only on special occasions.” he said with a grin, blowing a stream of smoke.

“I can’t believe Ron called me ‘Professor Lupin II’.”

“See? You’re the second Lupin on the list. Maybe being soft isn’t so bad hun.“

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. He wrapped his arm around your waist and huffed with laughter into your hair.

In the distance, you could see the first flash of fireworks lighting up the sky over the lake, shimmering almost like falling stars, leaving a trail of glowing sparks that slowly disappeared into the night.

“Happy new year love.”

"(Not) Dancing In The Moonlight" - Teacher!Remus Lupin X Teacher!reader

Thank you for reading! stay whelmed xx


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3 years ago

That was simply fascinating and perfect🤤🤤

Ma’am i am begging for a wolfstar blurb where Remus has a innocence kink and Sirius has a corruption kink

With love, my vagina

Dumb Bunny || Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

Word Count: 4,553

A/N: I hope you like this Bo, you’re my favorite and you know that. I also wrote like 90% of this in one sitting so I don’t know if it’s any good because you usually i take breaks and come back and look at what I’ve written but who knows. Love you so much my love.

Warnings: degradtion, praise, names like slut and dumb, blow job, oral virgin, dogg style, this is post Azkaban kinda

Masterlist

image

Kneeling at Remus’ feet staring up at the outline of his cock pressing up against his pants was daunting. You’d never actually given head before, had guys asked? Sure, but it had just never seemed worth the trouble, you’d never actually gotten a good look at any of their pricks because as soon as you’d nixed a blow job they were desperate to get inside of you.

Not that that had been all that great either, but you digress. 

You watched with wide eyes as his nimble fingers moved to the button on his slacks, pulling it through the hole before unzipping his zipper which allowed his slacks to drop and pool at his ankles. 

This left him in only his navy boxers which allowed you to get a much better look at the outline of his cock, you could almost see the ridges of the head as it was jostled around when he stepped out of his pants, kicking them to the side as he repositioned himself in front of you. 

You sat there, unmoving as you stared down his cock, not quite sure what to do now.

“Come on Pup, don’t tell me that you’re so clueless that you don’t know what to do with a cock when its been laid out in front of you,” Sirius sniped from where he stood, leaning nonchalantly against the wall as his eyes raked over your figure, clad only in the pair of pale pink panties and matching bra that you had put on hours earlier. “Don’t tell me that you’re that useless.”

“M’not useless,” You grumbled, casting your eyes down in shame, “I just, I’ve never done this before.”

“Speak up there Pup,” Remus commanded gently, slipping two strong fingers under your jaw to tilt your head up so that you could meet his gaze, “Can’t hear you when you mumble, and s’not nice to not look at someone when you’re talking to them.”

“M’sorry sir,” You apologized, trying to keep your eyes on his and not on his ever growing bulge, still straining against the material of his boxers, “I was just saying that,” You gulped, casting a sidelong glance at Sirius before moving your eyes back to meet Remus’, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Never done what before?” Sirius asked from off to the side, his smirk evident in his voice as he moved to stand next to Remus, “Come on bunny, wanna hear you say it.”

You looked up at Remus with pleading eyes but it was clear he wasn’t going to call his dog off, “I’ve never given head before, I’ve never sucked…” You felt your face heat up as you trailed off at the implication of your words.

“Oh come on,” Sirius chuckled, kneeling next to you so that you were of equal height, “Don’t get shy on me now, you can say the word puppy, I know you can.”

You found yourself not mortified by his condescending matter but rather ridiculously turned on, you could already feel a knot begin to form in your belly.

Sirius kept his eyes trained on you expectantly until you finally relented, “Cock,” As the single word slipped from your mouth you felt embarrassment bloom in your belly which was silly really, it was only just a word.

“Come on now, all together,” The dark haired man grinned mischievously.

“I’ve never sucked cock,” You admitted bashfully, looking to Remus to measure his reaction. You were nervous, not only had you never sucked someone off before but both men were a decade older than you with more sexual experience. What if you weren’t good, or you couldn’t take them and triggered your gag reflex? With all of these thoughts swimming around in your head it was hard to form a coherent thought and that was purely from nervousness, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like when you had them inside of you.

He had to restrain himself from groaning, both at your words and the innocent look on your face as you gazed up at him, “You’ve had sex though right baby? We’re not gonna take your virginity are we?” He asked, because if he and his lover were about to be your first time it was going to have to be a whole lot more special than this.

You were quick to shake your head, “No, I’ve had sex, I’m not a virgin.”

“Well in this hole you are,” Sirius captured your jaw, turning it to face him. His thumb brushed against the seal of your lips in a nonverbal command for you to open them, which you did of course.

You watched with wide eyes as Sirius gathered spit in his mouth before he spat it into your mouth, the taste of him bleeding across the expanse of your tongue. 

“Let me see Pup,” Sirius commanded as you stuck your tongue out, allowing him to see his spit on your tongue before he gave you your next direction, “Good girl, now swallow.”

Not as restrained a man as Remus he did groan watching your throat with an unguarded lust that had you shivering at the idea of what thoughts laid behind that gaze.

“Pads is right, you’re a very good girl,” Remus praised, directing your attention back towards him. Your mouth dropped open at the sight you were met with, Remus’ stiff cock standing proud and tall in front of your face with his hand wrapped around it.

“Am I going to suck your cock?” You asked, wide eyed and slightly concerned as you gazed up at Remus. Though his dick was prettier than you anticipated with its bright red, leaking tip, and the ridges caused by the veins that ran along the sides it was absolutely mouth watering, but the idea of fitting that in your mouth was nothing less than nerve wracking.

He let out a low chuckle, one of his strong hands moving to brush your hair out of your face, his eyes trained on your lips, “No, not yet baby. Gonna wrap those pretty lips around Sirius he’s a little bit smaller, it’ll make it easier for you.”

You heard Sirius grumble in discontent at the comment as he pushed himself up to undo the buckle of his belt, shedding both his trousers and boxers with far less dignity than his counterpart. Though yes, he was a bit smaller, it didn’t appear to be a significant difference and did little to soothe your woes about your potential performance. 

“Don’t worry Poppet, m’gonna teach you how to suck his dick. It's not hard I promise,” The tall man knelt beside you, his hand still on his prick as he smeared a kiss along your temple. You allowed your eyes to close at the contact, leaning into the touch as Remus guided one of your hands to his cock. It practically jumped into your grasp as oppositely charged magnets would attract each other. 

Though you’d given a hand job before Remus’ much larger, scarred hand found its way to encase your’s, guiding you through the motions of pumping up and down the shaft.

“How about me?” Sirius sounded petulant, like a child, but there was absolutely nothing child like about the way his dick rested heavily in the palm of his hand, he wasn’t as long as Remus but what he lacked in length he made up for in girth. The head of his member was more purple than red, though it leaked just as ferociously with the beginning drops of precum.

“He’s right Puppy,” Remus told you, pulling his lips away from your temple so that you would be forced to support the weight of your head on your own and meet his eyesight, “Gonna teach you how to give a blow job, okay?”

You nodded your head, “Yes, Sir.”

Impatience radiated off of the man who stood before you, the head of his cock staring you down, before you could talk yourself out of action you reached out and took the shaft in your hand, getting used to how it sat heftily in your hand.

“You’re gonna want to spit in your hand first Pup, it’ll make it easier,” Remus suggested, his length still secure in his own hand. You followed your instructions, switching Sirius’ member to your nondominant hand while you spat into the other one before resuming your previous hold.

Gazing up at him as you worked your hand up and down the length of his shaft you noticed the way his eyes were entirely consumed by lust, shining grey irises now black, blending in with his pupils.

“Use your thumb to smear the precum baby, like that,” Remus continued to coach you, watching as you ran your thumb over the sensitive head of Sirius’ member and how he jolted at the motion, “See he likes it.”

“Do you? Do you like it, Daddy?” You peered up at him through your eyelashes, cocking your head to the side without ever relenting the movement of your hand, “Am I doing a good job?”

Remus groaned from beside you, his gaze having left the dick in your hand, now landing on your face. Sirius simply smirked, dark curtains of hair framing his visage, the mere sight of him looming above you was enough to make you embarrassingly turned on, feeling pleasure begin to simmer in your belly you could only imagine how it would feel when you had him in your mouth.

“You’re doing a very good job Puppy,” It was Remus who spoke this time, “But it looks like Pads might be a little desperate to get his cock in your mouth, you think you’re ready?”

“I think so,” You nodded.

That was all Sirius needed before he was releasing his member from your hold, gripping his hand around it pumping it once, then twice before bringing the head to rest on your bottom lip. Tracing the seal of your lips with the weeping head of his prick he spoke, “Come on Puppy, wanna be the first cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“You heard him (Y/N), open your mouth, time to take his cock.” Remus said from beside you.

“B-But I’ve never done this before, how am I supposed to know what to do?”

Getting more and more frustrated with the fact his prick still wasn’t in your mouth Sirius began shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright,” The werewolf soothed you, running his fingers through your tresses, “Gonna help you.”

Glancing over at Remus for one last confirmation you didn’t realize what Sirius was doing until it was too late and his member was making contact with your cheek as he slapped it against the side of your face, streaking precum across your skin, “Hurry up slut.”

You whimpered at the degradation of both his words and his action as you felt a pang of pleasure zip through your body, shivering at the filthiness of it. You shifted in your spot, trying to rub your thighs together to soothe some of the ache that resided there and that wasn’t showing any indication of relenting but neither of the older men were having it.

“Stop that,” Sirius growled, capturing your jaw in his hand, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips were forced open, “Not about you right now, you’re supposed to be getting me off,” With that, having lost all patience he pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, releasing a strangled groan as he stopped himself from pushing in deeper. 

Remus let out a small chuckle shifting so that he was closer to you, “There you go Poppet, just start with the head. You wanna be sure to keep your teeth tucked away so that you don’t hurt him,” Leaning in closer towards your ear he added something else in a low whisper, “We can do that later, yeah?”

You let out a small giggle, which because it was muffled by the cock sitting inside of your mouth sent vibrations of pleasure through Sirius, starting at the head of his member and working their way up the shaft. Unable to control himself he bucked into your mouth, not considerably deep but deep enough to jar you. 

“Careful Si,” Remus scolded gently, one of his hands going to grip Sirius’ bare thigh as a reminder not to rush. Looking at you he saw the tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden and unexpected motion, “Puppy,” He cooed, caressing the side of your face with his knuckles, “Gotta breathe through your nose, do you know how to do that baby?”

Shaking your head gently you were careful to keep your teeth tucked away behind your lips while still signaling that you had no clue what you were doing. 

“Are you choking on my cock?” Sirius mocked you, the concerned tone of voice so sickly sweet it was nauseating, “Not even doing anything with it, just sitting there in your mouth and you can’t even take it,” He thrusted up gently into your mouth, just enough for the head of his cock to brush up against the roof of your mouth as cause you to gag around his length.

“Be nice Sirius,” Remus seethed through gritted teeth, glaring up at him while he pet your hair, grounding you as you focused on inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils. Concentrating on that helped you to calm your gag reflex, no longer having a problem with how his member was positioned in your mouth.

“Daddy can be mean can’t he?” Remus directed his attention towards you, his tone was so falsely sympathetic that it worsened the need bubbling up inside of you as the pleasure in your stomach continued to simmer. 

You stopped yourself from nodding again, this time letting out an affirmative hum which pleased Remus as he watched Sirius’ hips stutter as he refrained from forcing his length all the way down your throat.

“You can suck harder bunny, it’ll feel good and he’ll tell you if something hurts or doesn’t feel good, gotta trust him to do that.”

Taking his advice you sucked more harshly at the member inside of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head while looking up at him to gauge his reaction, he was still looking down at you, unblinking as though if he lost sight of you for even a moment the pleasure would stop. 

Remus slid his body behind yours so that your back was pressed to his chest with his cock achingly pressing into your bareback, smearing precum along your skin.

“Gotta hollow your cheeks Pup, like this,” His fingers found their way to either side of your face, pressing gently on your cheeks until he could feel the cock inside of your mouth. “It’ll feel good for him, make it tighter like it would be if he was fucking your cunt.”

One hand quickly abandoned your face, sliding its way down your stomach until his fingers were brushing the top of your lacy panties before slipping just his fingertips beneath the material. He simply cupped your pussy possessively, not working his fingers between your folds or into your hole, but just resting there, clutching you.

“Fuck Moons,” Sirius gritted, “She’s a fucking natural, hollowing her cheeks so prettily for me it’s like fucking her actual cunt.”

You whined at his words, squirming once again trying to relieve the ache burning between your thighs, the way he spoke to Remus, to Sir, like you weren’t even there. It was deliciously objectifying, degrading, and you loved it. 

Remus smiled into your neck as he moved to nip at your ear, the contact subtle, but still enough to have you shivering as pleasure tickled at your nerves which felt frayed and exposed, with every motion, every exhale against your skin it was like on fire had been set to each of them individually.

“Gonna make him feel even better now poppet, bob your head up and down and you’re gonna take your hand,” He took one of your hands, which had been resting on your thigh, and guided it to the base of Sirius’ member, “Just move it a little bit, on what you’re not able to fit into your mouth, don’t wanna neglect it.” 

Following his instructions you worked the exposed length of him in your hand as you bobbed your head up and down the rest, taking about half of his cock into the velvety warmth of your mouth. Running the brunt of your tongue along his shaft you acted upon the courage you felt surge through you, using the hand not at the base of his cock to grapple at his balls. 

You were more than pleased with the strangled moan that fell from Sirius’ lips, you’d gotten groans out of him earlier but not a moan. Remus noted this as well, his mouth still pressed against your ear, “Look at that, he’s so pretty with his head thrown back like that, moaning, and all because of your mouth.” 

One of his fingers found your bottom lip which was dripping with saliva, and he ran the pad of his finger along the cushion of your lip, pressing gently. 

“How’s it feel, Pads?” Remus looked up at the other man.

“She was born to suck cock,” He exhaled sharply as you took him deeper in your mouth, making a point to continue to hollow your cheeks.

The hand cupping your sex slid a finger between your folds, collecting your wetness on a singular digit causing you to jump at the contact before you rolled your hips towards his hand nonverbally begging for more.

Moving his lips to suck dark purple hues into the delicate flesh of your neck Remus spoke into your skin, “Once you make Daddy cum then it's your turn Bunny, don’t be greedy, you gotta give before you get.”

Taking his words at face value you became even more determined to make Daddy cum, knowing that not only would it be a personal feat, your first blow job, but that when it was done you would be getting so much more.

Breathing in sharply through your nose you willed your gag reflex not to act up as you pushed your head down on his cock, taking in as much of Sirius as you could which you were pleased to see that it was a majority of his length inside of your mouth by the time you hit your limit. 

You sucked more harshly at his member, swirling your tongue around what you could before Remus rose from where he had rested behind you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before moving to stand next to Sirius. You whimpered when his fingers slipped from your cunt but were intrigued as you watched through your lashes. Observing as Remus’ hands slipped under the smaller man’s shirt, palms running up and down the toned planes of his stomach as he meshed his lips with the other man’s.

You were unsure but you thought that you heard a command for Sirius to rid himself of his shirt as he quickly undid the buttons, letting the dress shirt fall to the floor with Remus’ quickly following suit.

Watching the two men make out with each other, Remus’ hands nestling themselves in Sirius’ long hair and Sirius’ gripping at Remmy’s bare ass, spurred you on in your efforts to make him cum.

Adjusting Siri’s length so that it sat comfortably in your throat and that so you could feel where it bulged against your throat before you swallowed around his length.

If the feeling of his load being shot down your throat wasn’t indication enough that your little trick had done the job then the sharp, “Fuck” the man released from above you certainly was. 

You swallowed his cum just as you had his spit before easing yourself off of his length, taking extra care to keep your teeth from his sensitive cock. Looking up at him with wide eyes you watched him lay his head on Remus’ chest as marks similar to the ones left on your neck were left on his, and though yours were beginning to feel a bit tender you knew that Sirius was loving his as much as you were loving yours.

“Did I do a good job Daddy?” You looked up at him owlishly, cocking your head to the side.

“Fuck Moons if you don’t fuck her I will,” Was all you got in response as Remus chuckled into the newly bruised skin of his lover pulling away to assess you. 

He frowned looking at you as he noticed that you were still in your underwear, “Up,” He ordered, once you were on your feet he was in front of you in a single stride, strong, scarred arms were extending around your torso to undo the clasp of your bra, pulling the straps off of your shoulders allowing the garment to fall to the floor before kneeling in front of you to tug your panties down which you then stepped out of.

“On the bed,” He ordered simply, your panties hanging from the crook of his finger as he moved to deposit them in the pocket of his blazer, cock bobbing in the air as he moved about the room.

Positioning yourself on the bed, on your hands and knees you caught a glimpse of Sirius lounging on an armchair in the room, cock resting against his thigh as he recovered from his first orgasm of the night. He shot you a lazy smile before raking his eyes along your form, studying each ripple and ridge hungrily. 

On your hands and knees, you felt uncomfortably vulnerable but you knew it was all worth it when you felt Remus settle in behind you, his hands moving to grip your hips and pull you back towards his pelvis.

You pushed your bum back towards Remus as you felt the head of his cock run through your soaking folds, you were almost embarrassed by how wet sucking Sirius off had made you but you couldn’t quite summon the energy.

“Don’t rush bunny, I got you, I promise,” With one hand guiding his cock and the other anchoring you to him he pushed just the head of his member inside of you. You clenched around him, trying to suck more of his length up into you because though you technically had him you needed more.

Not feeling particularly patient himself Remus wasted no time before pushing the entirety of his length inside of you, growling as your cunt pulsed around him. 

“Sir!” You moaned feeling yourself stretch around him, having never taken his cock before you weren’t ready for the way that he stretched you so wide it was bordering on painful just barely avoiding tipping over the edge. 

Allowing you a moment to adjust to his length he pulled out of you until his member barely rested inside of you before thrusting himself all the way back in. A hand running down your back signaled for you to arch your back for him which of course you did.

His pace was fast but deep, the depth of his strokes consistent as he reached depths inside of you you hadn’t even known existed before. Pistoning his hips in and out of you the rhythmic sound of skin slapping up against skin filled the room and you could feel his balls slapping up against your clit which each and every thrust.

“Pretty bunny,” Remus’ low voice sounded through the room, accompanied by the sounds of your skin against each other as he leaned back to watch his member disappear in you before pulling back out, “Such a pretty bunny for me, so sweet and innocent aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” You responded, allowing your head to drop and hang as you fell onto your elbows rather than your hands.

Sirius tutted as he rose from his seat in the corner, his beautifully tattooed body still glistening with sweat as he began pumping his cock while walking towards you, “Please, she’s not a pretty bunny, she’s a little cum slut. Dumb little bunny.”

You whined out at his degradation, your eyes squeezed shut as a wave of pleasure coursed through you causing you to let out a ragged breath. 

“See, she likes it, dumb bunny.” Though you couldn’t see him you were sure that he was grinning wickedly down at you.

“No m’not! I’m a pretty bunny,” You insisted, though your message was a bit undercut as you slurred your words.

“That’s right, pretty bunny,” Remus cooed, groping the globes of your ass in his hands, squeezing the flesh before pulling away to observe the handprints he left on your skin, if only for a moment.

“She wants to be, but she’s not, she’s just a cock hungry slut.” Sirius countered and you looked up at him with pleading eyes, desperately seeking his approval but all you got was a sneer as he pumped his cock next to your face.

“Not nice, Sir says you’re mean,” You whined as Remus continued to thrust in and out of you, rather enjoying watching the interaction between his two lovers.

“Oh is that right? Well, I don’t fucking care if I’m mean, you’re a dumb fuck bunny and if telling you that is mean then oh well,” He grasped your jaw in between his hand, forcing your head up at an uncomfortable angle to make eye contact with you, “Guess I’m mean.”

The whine you released at that was perhaps the most pathetic of the night, you felt pathetic at the gush of wetness you felt at his words, the pleasure in your belly progressing from a simmer to a boil as Remus’ hand reached around to find your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves between his thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t listen to him,” The man buried deep inside of your cunt told you, “You’re my pretty bunny, keep on being my pretty bunny, prove Daddy wrong.”

It was all too much, the contrast between Remus’ praising words and Sirius’ harsh ones, the sight of Sirius’ tattooed hand working up and down his shaft, Remus’ pace in and out of you and his hand on your clit. 

It was just all too much.

You could barely see straight as the pleasure boiling in your belly overflowed, like hot lava flowing you felt pleasure flow through your veins as you climaxed. Your orgasm left you feeling warm in every nook and cranny as your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt like you were underwater as your thoughts swam around you, mingling with the noises in the room around you.

Your head was still heavy as you opened your eyes which you hadn’t realized you’d squeezed shut, you jolted forward as Remus continued moving in and out of your pussy, trying to get away from his cock. Your orgasm had been electrifying leaving you sensitive but Remus didn’t seem to be relenting.

“Don’t recall telling you you could cum Poppet,” Remus said from behind you, and that’s when you realized why he wasn’t stopping, “Maybe Daddy was right, maybe you are just a dumb bunny.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete

6 months ago

This one is so cute!!!! I love it!💖💖💓💓

Smooth Operator (Carlos Sainz x Reader)

Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Some people can hear a song when their close to their soulmate, the volume depends on how far or close to them you are. Carlos was sure his song was smooth operator, so why hasn't he found his soulmate yet.

Smooth Operator (Carlos Sainz X Reader)

People would spend their whole life hoping to meeting their soulmate. Some would meet them as entered any stage of schooling or some would run into them suddenly but the worst were those that spent their life preening their ears for the soft melody of their soulmate song. You never knew what the song was, it could be a song that actually existed or just a mash of musical notes that described the two people involved but there was one thing Carlos was sure of; smooth operator was his soulmate song and yet his love life was anything but smooth operation.

He had heard stories of how loud and melodious the music was when his mother entered his father's life, his sister's recounted time when they met their soulmate. Carlos was getting antsy. Until one day, during a race weekend, he had grown tired of the tune of smooth operator which he could hear playing faintly as he walked in to the paddock with Lando. "ugh, that stupid song" Carlos muttered. "What song?" Lando asked confused. "Smooth Operator" Carlos stated. Lando looked confused, "I hear nothing" Lando stated. Carlos's eyes widened trying to figure out where he should move to find his soulmate. In the frantic few minutes of Carlos running around the paddock like a headless chicken with a confused Lando calling out to him; the melody stopped just as it had started.

Y/N never thought she would find her soulmate, she was above the natural age most of her relatives and family had met theirs and she had given up hope on ever meeting hers. She was in a small store near an F1 race when she heard the faint sound of smooth operator playing. She chalked it down to it being played at the race because it was a running gag with Carlos, her favourite Formula One driver. Y/N wasn't able to secure tickets to the race and just enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the race from the entrance, retreating to her hotel to try and enjoy a F1 free vacation.

Carlos waited days and months to be able to hear the song again, but with all the travelling it wouldn't have been possible. He just wished he had tried harder and maybe than he would've met his soulmate by now. His spirit was wounded to say the least.

Carlos then proceeded to hear smooth operator a few more times, but the melody was so faint that anyone would've missed it. His ears had started to pick up on the song whether it was being played or not.

Y/N finally got tickets to a F1 race. She used to watch the races with her siblings and being able to experience it with them was a dream come true for her. They had packed their bag and headed off to Spain. Ever since she had landed, she could hear the faint buzzing of smooth operator. She chalked it up to being obsessed with Carlos that, that was she was hearing it. She had made beaded bracelets for him and her siblings had made posters for the track side. It was Carlos's home race and she was so excited to be able to see him race in his home turf. As she had only gotten tickets for the race day, she spent the rest of her time in Barcelona with Smooth Operator playing. She thought it was probably the song currently stuck in her head. A thought did cross her mind; what if it was her soulmate song, but quickly pushed it off since the volume didn't seem to increase of decrease constantly.

Carlos was on edge, he could hear the song playing over and over again, the melody taunting him. The volume had increased on Friday but had remained constant the whole weekend, making it difficult to communicate with his race engineer. This was really throwing his mind off track since he couldn't focus on anything but the thought of his soulmate being so close yet so far away.

It was race day and both Carlos and Y/N were getting ready for the day. Y/N held all the bracelets she made for the drivers and fellow fans in hand as she distributed it to her fellow 55ers. She hoped to meet Carlos as he drove in. A little while after she had gotten on the track, the volume of the song playing in her ears had increased. Was she about to meet her soulmate? was all she could think about as the volume kept increasing. Y/N kept an eye out for anyone, in hopes that maybe, just maybe. She felt stupid for hoping when never thought she'd meet her soulmate.

As Carlos's car halted to a stop in the parking lot, the song had gotten quite loud, loud enough to make it difficult to focus. Carlos was extremely excited by it. He hopped out of the car and started scanning the area for his soulmate. He walked around for a bit before proceeding to the fans when he felt like he would go deaf with how loudly the song was blaring. He looked around for anyone who was also being affected by it. And than he saw it. A girl who's eyes were frantically scanning the area. Carlos stumbled forward to stand in front of her and as their eyes met, they knew since the song suddenly stopped, like the whole world stopped. Y/N slipped a bracelet into his palm while Carlos tried to walk away, not to cause a big scene. Y/N pulled her siblings aside and told them what had just happened and they couldn't stop jumping in excitement.

He asked his cousin to help get the girl into the garage. His cousin was quick to get her and her siblings in. Y/N was anxious and worried and excited. She couldn't believe Carlos was her soulmate. What good karma had she acquired to have him as her soulmate, she wondered.

Y/N was ushered into the garage, Carlos was seen waiting, his hair a mess from running his hands through it so many times. The pair stood in front of each other, "Carlos" she whispered and Carlos took her in. Dressed in his colours with his number on her cap and looked at the bracelet in his hand which read, idc ur my soulmate. It was supposed to be a joke, but right now neither of them were laughing. "Not fair you know my name" Carlos spoke, breaking the silence. "Y/N" she laughed. "Can't believe it" she said turning around to stop herself from fan girling. "You better believe it because I'm here to stay" he stated. She turned around to look at him once more, taking him in, not Carlos Sainz Jr, Formula One driver but Carlos Sainz, her soulmate. "That bracelet was supposed to be a joke" she stated as she saw him put it on. "And now it will be something I will wear forever" Carlos said, kissing the bracelet on his hand. "I never thought I would meet my soulmate but it was totally worth the wait" she smiled at him with tears in her eyes. "I always knew I would meet you and I'm glad I didn't lose hope" he smiled back, wrapping her in his embrace. The pair stood there for a while before breaking away, "Gonna have to win the race to show you how good I am" Carlos said. "I know how good you are but a race win doesn't sound bad" she replied.


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1 year ago

That's so true

sometimes the love of your life is a 40 year old french man…

Sometimes The Love Of Your Life Is A 40 Year Old French Man…

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xiscamoony - Xisca
Xisca

+18 blog/MDNI. Requests open.22. She/her. Scorpio. I love art, books, music and movies. Emotionally attached to fictional characters.

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