𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: who is the infamous red bull driver (y/n) (l/n) dating? her teammate, some celebrity guest, or is it the man who just posted their pictures online?
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: david corenswet x female f1 driver!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): fluff, suggestive? very sfw (wow what a first from me hehe)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: never in my life did i expect to be writing toothrotting fluff but here we are, this seems so cliche but this is meant to be self-indulgent hehe also shout out to @crumbssss for helping me with the idea! and also thank you to the anon who asked for this!
You're sweating, completely out of breath as you stood before Crofty, struggling to even string together a coherent sentence. He's asking the race winner Charles Leclerc about the thoughts of winning in Austria, the home of the Red Bull, but your thoughts of being composed were being side-lined by the annoying dutchman - your teammate, Max - whispering into your ear, a hand over his mouth as he leans towards you.
"Is it Charles?" He asked, and you frowned, having not heard him through the way the crowd was screaming Charles' name. Gesturing for him to repeat himself, Max rolled his eyes and leaned even closer, not bothering to care if the camera was currently zooming in on the interaction. "Are you secretly dating Charles?"
You had to turn your head away from the camera to roll your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Aside from feeling like you just got hit by a train after a tiring race, you had to deal with this pestering voice besides you that seemed far more interested in your love life than your own parents. You mouthed the word 'no' and was about to whisper into Max's ear that if he didn't shut the hell up you were going to rip out his tongue but then the booming voice of Crofty calling to Max seemed to snap the both of you out of your interaction. Max smiled softly, his attention drawn towards the older man while you had glanced at Charles, offering him a whispered congratulations and a thumbs up that he merely chuckled at, nodding his head. He was tired, you were tired, it was only a matter of seconds before you could head to the cooldown room.
"And (Y/N)!" Crofty finally came to you, waddling over with his microphone, "You had quite the tough battle for third with Carlos Sainz in the final chicane, tell me what was going through your mind?"
"Uh," you turned to face Max, watching the way he seemed to grin at the fact that you were still trying to catch your breath, "when will this race end, that's what I was thinking. No, I mean, I was… just trying to get as many points as we could for the constructor's-"
"And it must've been a daunting task considering you're our only female driver!" Crofty interrupted your respond which earned him a frown from the other drivers on the podium with you.
"I don't really think gender has to do with her performance," Charles quickly added, frowning at the absurdity of the question, "she performed well, she got the outcome the team needed and that was that."
Max smirked, running a hand over his mouth as if trying to wipe away the growing smile he had on his face. The dumbass couldn't be any more wrong and you had to clench your jaw, forcing a smile as you thanked Charles for his words. Turning back to Crofty, you shrugged, "like he said, my gender doesn't really have to be brought into this, I mean yes, perhaps I face much more strain at the end but I still think it's perfectly fine! I signed up for the challenge, I know what I'm doing, and that's mainly to help Red Bull in the constructor's championship."
"Wise words from the lady," Crofty nodded and that comment itself irked you but you kept smiling, waving to the crowd as they cheered for your third place.
"Thanks, lady," Max patted your back once inside the cooldown room, clearly taking the piss as you grumbled in your seat. Charles had tossed you a rag, letting you wipe the sweat off your brow. He took his place besides you, staring at the race highlights with a look of exhaustion on his face,
"70 laps, not too bad."
"Imagine Singapore," you exclaimed, earning groans from the other two drivers. Max took his seat next to Charles, his smirk only widening as he leaned forward to glance at you,
"That first corner, you nearly took us both out!" he laughed, and you shook your head, thinking Max was a little too calm at what happened in the start of the race. You held your hands up in a placating gesture, trying to explain yourself,
"I was just trying to get to the front! You and Charles were at each other's necks so I thought I could squeeze through, and then the car locked up for a second and I panicked. God, but then when you were pitting, I had to deal with Carlos breathing down my neck! You're lucky I was feeling nice to your teammate," you punched Charles' arm softly, and he shook his head with a laugh,
"Oh God, I don't think we could handle another DNF," Charles scoffed, running a hand over his face. He paused, turning to face you, "Wait, maybe this is inappropriate for the moment, but… but did you see that post about you on Kym's instagram page?"
"The what?" You frowned, your eyes briefly flickering to the camera in the room before turning back to face the two, "What post?"
"(Y/N), most eligble bachelorette on the grid," Max wiggled his eyebrows. He laughed when you tossed the sweat-stained rag at him.
"No such thing," You snorted, "I'm taken."
"You are?" Charles and Max cried out in unison, only for them to both look at each other, "I thought you were dating her!"
"Why would I date her, she's my teammate, she's like my sister!" Max scoffed, running a hand through his hair. Charles shrugged,
"Well, you two were always whispering after races and laughing so I assumed… wait but why did you think I was dating her?" Charles asked, only for you to snap your fingers, hopping out of your chair.
"Cameras, guys, cameras," you hissed through gritted teeth, adjusting the cap on your head, "Let's go, we got a podium to be standing on."
As podium celebrations began, Max and Charles were busy pouring you with the champagne, laughing at the way you seemed to try and duck away from their pursuit. You chugged the drink down, clinking the bottle against the others with a sigh. It was a good race finish, you got points that you needed for the team and yet your mind still buzzed with whatever Charles had mentioned in the cooldown room. What damned post was out there that considered you an eligible bachelorette and why the hell did that bother you so much? Oh right, because you had a golden retriever at home that had kept texting you until the second you entered the car about how much he was going to miss you. Right… your boyfriend, David.
Settled into the bed of your hotel room, you yawned as you scrolled through your phone. You needed to give this post a read, trying to gauge out what the hell had been written for Charles fucking Leclerc to be asking you about who you were dating. Then there it was, a photo dump of your recent sightings around the paddock, hugging celebrity guests, hanging out with the other drivers. It seemed innocent in your eyes, nothing too dramatic and yet when you opened the comments, it was flooded with ship names between you and Charles, you and Max - was that Carlos, too?
"Carlos and (Y/N), enemies to lovers?" One of the comments read and you nearly threw your phone across the bed. You wanted to respond so badly about how Carlos and you were still good friends, just a few bad races didn't mean you were enemies - nor did it mean you were lovers, either! But you knew if you did that, your PR manager was going to give you absolute hell for not checking in with her before "ruining your image"; the very thought made you groan in frustration. You should've gone to bed an hour ago, still exhausted from the race, but your curiousity could not be sated and here you were at 2 o'clock in the morning, going down a massive TikTok rabbithole about who you must be dating. You were being linked to everyone! Why were you even being linked to Sebastian Vettel? That man was retired and has a wife and kids!
Your phone abruptly started to ring, the caller ID displaying a very familiar name that made you smile. Placing the phone on speaker, you yawned and sunk further under the covers,
"Hey, baby, what's up?"
"Congratulations on third place, (Y/N)!" David's voice screamed of pure joy and enthusiasm, you could practically hear the grin on his face, "I'm so proud of you! I couldn't watch the race, sadly, I've been stuck on a lot of press tours but I'll rewatch it when I have the time."
You cringed at the word 'rewatch' already knowing that the cameraman had captured the conversation in the cooldown room, no doubt stirring more drama online as everyone tried to guess who it was that you were dating. Forcing a chuckle, you yawned once more and told David that you were gonna get some sleep. He blew you a kiss from the other side of the phone, giggling about how much he was going to miss you until he could see you again. You chuckled at his child-like demeanor, giving him a kiss goodbye before hanging up on him.
On the other side of the world, while you were resting and getting prepared for the next race, David had been going through press tours all over the world for the Superman movie that was coming out soon. He wasn't used to excessive traveling but in the back of his mind, he thought of you and all that you did for every race and hell, if that wasn't enough motivation for him to get through a day without complaining. He always thought about how hardworking you were, how you always knew what you had to do and being the only female driver on the current grid somehow made his love only grow tenfold for you. He considered himself a lucky bastard, and still couldn't understand how you managed to fall in love with little old him, a shy, bumbling theater kid who was just now getting his big break.
He also knew the downsides for the relationship and most importantly was the fact that he had to keep you as his secret. He hated it more than anything else in the world, always wanting to proudly show you off that he was your boyfriend, that you were the best thing that could ever happen to him but he stuck with the dog photos for the past year, knowing your press manager would rip him apart for posting your face at all. It hurt at first but he got used to the feeling, and now that he was superman, his whole instagram had to be cleansed and curated accordingly so he felt relieved that he could share that struggle with you, even if it always held him back from showing the world how much he loved you. He was scrolling through his phone, glancing at all the photos taken of the race that occured the day before, his dimples flashing with his smile as he stared at all the photos of you. You had your trophy in your hand, this proud look on your face that made him wish he was there to scoop you up into his big arms and plant a big, sloppy kiss on the top of your head. He sighed, pocketing his device when the interviewer had come into the room, the start to a very tiring day for him.
The questions were always in and out, asking about his process, his interests, the filming process. Sometimes it felt repetitive and other times it got a good laugh out of him as he sat with his co-stars Rachel and Nicholas. Everything was going fine until one interviewer decided to change the path of the conversation:
"So, David, I was looking through your following list and you seem to be really into F1! Has this always been something you've been a fan of?" The woman asked and David laughed, a slight blush creeping up his check at the memory of you.
"Oh, uh.. no, not exactly," he shrugged, "got into it last year, it's been a recent development but I really like the sport and I've learned a lot, I'm looking forward to how the season will turn out!"
"Yeah, quite recently, Charles Leclerc won in Spa! And with him were the two Red Bull drivers um… Max and uh-"
"(Y/N)," David answered, before feeling a bit ashamed at how fast he must've jumped the gun on that one. He played it off, smiling, "I was watching the race yesterday so yeah." which itself was a lie, he hadn't had time to watch the way you had managed to defend against Carlos Sainz like the beast that you were but who was gonna know outside of him and you? Pfft, he had this in the bag.
"Oh, yeah, (Y/N)," Nicholas nodded his head, adjusting himself in his seat, "I've seen her before, isn't she dating that Charles guy?"
"What?" Rachel and David both asked, except the former's reasoning behind her question was far different than David's. The poor guy was sweating at this point, now where the hell did Nicholas get that information from?
"Yeah…." Nicholas drawled out, his eyes narrowing at David, "I could've sworn she was dating Charles, she was very like… I don't know, they seem like really good friends but I've heard tons of rumors around them all the time. Both talented drivers."
"Oh, well yesterday in the cooldown room," The interviewer smiled, "Charles had asked her that question, and she seemed to panic. There was some confusion going around because the drivers all thought she was dating the other, but she merely said she was taken, didn't elaborate on anything else."
"Ahhhh," Nicholas raised an eyebrow, a wry smile playing on his lips, "So she's teasing us here. Hm, I wonder who she's dating. You follow F1 more than I do, what do you think David?" The blonde man turned to face the star of the movie. David's mouth dropped, as if he was thinking about how to approach this situation. Every bone in his body wanted to just straight out admit that you were the love of his life and the both of you have been dating for more than a year, but he knew that would be a whole 'nother can of worms that he didn't want to get into just yet. He smiled, shrugging his shoulders as he tapped his knee,
"No clue. I mean, it could be anyone," He awkwardly exclaimed and the interviewer nodded her head, almost as if she knew.
"There have been links to her and Carlos Sainz in the past, both of them are always at odds on track but off track are very sweet with each other. I personally think they'd both look amazing together, he's got the brains and she's got the brawns," She grinned to which Nicholas seemed to agree. David's face contorted into a frown, his bottom lip jutted out into a pout. He couldn't stand this interview anymore and every time the interviewer kept mentioning cooldown room, he couldn't help but wonder what the hell even happened between you, Charles and Max. He trusted you, of course he did, but now he was getting a bit… posessive, to say the least, that his girl was being thrown around multiple guys on the internet, as if she wasn't his girlfriend.
"Gonna see this for myself," David had mumbled to himself later that night. He was on his phone, something he never really liked to do much because he was always about trying to spend time off social media - "chronically offline king" as Rachel called him, whatever the hell that meant - but now he was scouring through the internet about yesterday's race and then he landed on Kym's post. Okay, it wasn't as bad as he was fearing. You were just you! Smiling, laughing along with the other driver's, nothing insane.
Poor guy then made the big mistake of opening the comment section. Oh, his blood boiled, not out of anger to you but at how stupid everyone could be, shipping you with other people. Did one comment just fucking say enemies to lovers? He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. It was time to set the record straight, there was no way he was letting random people on the internet dwell in whatever fantasies they made in their heads, he had to let the world know that you were his and no others. Biting his lip, he sat down at the edge of his hotel bed, glancing out the window to formulate a little plan in his head. You were his, and there was no way he was going to let some Charles or Carlos guy get the credit of dating you, he'd show the world and perhaps, you as well...
When you woke up the morning of the next race, you groaned as you saw the influx of texts from your PR manager. She was ranting about something that had come to light, how the internet was going wild. You nearly turned your phone off when the name "David" caught your attention. You sat up, rubbing your groggy eyes and with a yawn, opened up Instagram. Your inbox was flooded with DMs, so many people tagging you in comments that you didn't even know existed and so when you clicked on one, you were faced with photos of David and you together. For a moment, your heart stopped in your chest. Who the hell posted these? How did they get these photos? So you glanced up at the username and sighed in relief when it was just David's account.
Wait a damn minute, that's David's account?!?
You flipped through all 20 photographs, the way they started off very sweet and loving, kisses on your cheek and vice versa. Then, they started to slowly get a bit more intimate, private moments where you remembered exactly what David had been doing moments before he took those photos; tangled in bed sheets, the post-sex hair, the giggles and teeth marks on his biceps. You blushed, still in disbelief that he had posted any of this when you scrolled to look at his caption:
"Don't usually post much on my Instagram page anymore, but I figured this deserved an exception," David had written, "I just wanted to say thanks to the most gorgeous, talented woman I have ever had the fortune of meeting in my entire life. Thank you so much, baby, for giving me a chance and sticking by me for the past year and a half. You've supported me through everything, made me become a better man and watching you succeed in your own sport makes the proudest boyfriend ever, I'm so lucky to have you by my side. I can't wait for the many more years to come with you in my arms… Love, your boyfriend and #1 fan, David Corenswet."
"That was corny," Max had leaned into your ear to whisper during the driver's parade later that day. You shook your head, snickering as you thought about David's instagram post. All the other driver's had been relentlessly teasing you over it and Max, being himself, was of course the most insufferable out of the lot.
"Ask your girlfriend to post a photo dump about you then," You retorted and he waved you off with a scoff,
"I'd rather not have the world see what I look like after sex," to which you smacked his arm with a gasp,
"Shut up!" You giggled, "I didn't choose for that photo, David posted it on his own!"
And just before you were getting ready for the race to start, you decided to quickly text David like you always did before every race, knowing that he was at his press tour, waiting for the interviewer to come in.
"Next time, I'm hiding your phone," you texted.
"I just thought you looked very pretty, can't I admire my girlfriend when she's a million miles away from me and killing it out there?" he texted back almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for your text all this time.
"You've lost your phone privileges for a long time thanks to your little stunt, you scared the hell out of my PR team!"
"So, does that mean I have to show my appreciation in person then?"
"Shut up, dork, don't you have an interview to get to?"
"Matter of fact, I do, unfortunately. I shall attend to you later, my beloved.""Love you, too," you wrote back with a giggle, before placing your helmet - that you might've added a superman logo on the back - over your head, and running off towards your car for the win.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: as the photographer for the 2025 f1 shoot, it's hard to keep your hands off even behind closed doors...
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smuttt, this is quite literally porn with no plot, p in v, anal sex, blowjobs, handjobs, cunnilingus, sloppy seconds? does that count as a warning? slapping, overstimulation, edging, tied up, rough sex, spitroasting (male), hair pulling
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): dom!carlos sainz x switch!max verstappen x sub!charles leclerc x sub!reader (charlos/lestappen/versainz/foursome)
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i've actually never written driver x driver before so im really sorry if this isn't good, i want to give a shoutout to my 🐱 anon they are doing the lord's work!!!!
"shoot starts in 2 minutes!" you cried out, hands cupped around your mouth at the drivers that lurked just outside the set. your colleagues had spent the past few minutes arranging all the crucial pieces for the drivers to stand on and some of them were grumbling already at how bland it looked, but you smiled with a small shrug, "it looks quite nice."
one by one, the drivers had shuffled onto the set and with your assistant, you guided them to stand where you wanted them to. your hand extended out as you pushed your fingers to the side in the air, urging fernando to move closer to pierre. you pursed your lips, crossing your arms as you thought about the placement of the drivers. some of them were missing, too busy chattering in the background as they caught up with each other, reminiscing old teams or merely discussing the excitement the new season would bring. you glanced over your shoulder to find a blue helmet with a spanish flag across sitting forlornly on a black box, cast aside at the moment.
"who placed that there?" you asked, pointing to the item for your assistant who merely shrugged in response,
"didn't get a chance to look at the number, maybe just place it on the set for now and someone will come looking for it," she responded and you sighed, moving over to grab the helmet when a pair of hairy hands quickly snatched it from your grasps. your eyes darted to the figure in front of you, taking note of those big, brown eyes that were currently narrowed at you, an unamused expression clouding his handsome features.
"that's mine," carlos scoffed, "i leave to get coffee for 5 minutes and someone wants to steal my helmet."
"n-no, that wasn't my intention sir," you blurted out, hands stretched outwards in defense, "i just saw it sitting there and i was gonna move it to the... well, it doesn't matter now since... you have it."
carlos' eyes raked over your body, taking note of the way the button-up shirt you wore clung to the curves of your body, a bit too tight for your own good. he smacked his lips, nodding his head for a split second before taking a long stride off towards the set where the rest of the grid was gravitating towards.
great. first impressions were already going just great. you peered over to see the way his hands clung onto the helmet, the hair on the back of his hands slowly fading as they reached his knuckles, tangled above sculpted veins that became more prominent as his fingers dragged along the stripes of the spanish flag. you shook your head, smacking your forehead. get a grip, you were here to do a professional photoshoot, not drool over a driver's hands! returning back to your job, you gave directions from behind the camera for where the drivers should stand and what pose they should be doing. however, you forgot that despite being very well coordinated on track, most of these guys had zero coordination following basic instructions.
with a groan, you stalked over to where they all stood, clapping your hands to grab their attention before walking them through where each of them should stand, and how to pose. while you were busy chastising esteban ocon for nearly tumbling onto lewis hamilton, you were unaware that you had caught the attention of the latter's teammate, charles leclerc. charles had sat down in a corner, waiting for your instructions when the time would arise and the entire time, he was enraptured by the way you were ordering the other drivers around, almost mocking them for their inability to follow simple directions. you rolled your eyes, hopping onto the floor when carlos had sauntered back onto the set after excusing himself for a while.
"well look who decided to show up again," you snapped, glancing at your watch, "already making us late."
you didn't notice the way carlos raised his eyebrow at you, his lips forming into a thin line at the way you were demeaning him in front of the other drivers. you grabbed onto his arm, dragging him towards the center before running your hands down the front of his race suit, smoothing the fabric down, "the new director and still can't show up on time?"
"watch it, nena," carlos growled, lowly, "it'll only take me a few seconds to get you on your knees and shut you up with my cock."
your hands hovered over his chest for a second, noticing the way he smirked at the initial shock before it transformed into a curious form of hunger, as you snickered, "i'd like to see you try."
carlos' smirk widened into a grin as you walked back to the camera, grabbing your assistant to talk about the lighting. with your back turned to the men, carlos turned to his side to find max toying with his helmet, clearly uninterested at the moment. the dutchman ran a hand over his face, smiling lazily at carlos,
"what's with the grin? can't be because you're in williams right?" he joked,
"big talk coming from the guy who used to beg for my cock before promotional vids back in toro rosso," the spanish man snorted and max couldn't help but smile once more, laughing.
"i'm a changed man, i've got finer tastes," max began, glancing over to charles, "a taste we both happen to share."
charles remained oblivious at the way their conversation turned to him. he was too busy watching the way your jeans hugged your ass perfectly, the shirt you wore clinched around your tits that struggled to fit behind those buttons. he toyed with the rings on his fingers, slipping them in and out as he imagined his aching cock sliding in and out of your pretty cunt, he knew it would be perfect, knew that his name falling from your lips like an orchestra would be exactly what he needed to drown himself after what cacophony ferrari would produce.
however his thoughts were cut short when max's fingers snapped in front of his face.
"eyes on us or on the floor," max hissed, tugging at charles' ear sharply as the latter winced in pain. he smacked max's hand away, soothing the pain that flourished on the side of his head as carlos leaned forward to get a good view of his former teammte.
"someone's getting bolder now that i'm not there," carlos sneered, "surely you're not that foolish to think that just a difference in teams will leave you unscathed, right?"
charles frowned at the both of them, taking note of their mocking smiles. he hated being bottom, hated always having to be manhandled. he was the golden boy of ferrari, he was supposed to be treated like royalty, but time and time again he found himself stuck between these two like some common prostitute that was working overtime. he pouted, glancing to the floor as he remembered max's win in austria years ago, leaving him hopeless in p2. he remembered arguing with max on the plane ride, yelling and screaming in frustration at how max turned in and wrongfully shoved him off track. only to then find himself shoved face down onto the plane ground, pants torn off of him as max's fingers carefully wrapped around the ferrari's drivers shaft, thumb flicking over his tip as he mewled out loud, inadvertently bucking his hips. he was desperate to get some relief after such a frustrating race, but little did he know that it was just the start. especially in the 2022 season, where charles found himself on his knees whenever max had won yet another race.
"i don't have all day you know," max would laugh, slapping his cock against charles' pouting lips, "get to work."
and it was no different with carlos. he had spent most of his early time in ferrari yearning for sebastian vettel's validation and approval, trying to be the perfect good boy that he was known for, the new talent that outshined everyone. when carlos had joined the team, charles had foolishly assumed he would be the bigger and better teammate, only to realize that carlos was anything but what he was in front of the cameras. it started off as small gestures, holding his waist if he was squeezing by to examine his car. gently teasing him, or messing up his hair with a laugh. and then it became carlos dragging his eyes over his body, always spending a second too long staring at his crotch or his ass. biting his lip on purpose when charles would walk over to him, and most importantly, always pressing the outline of his thick cock against charles' ass.
the first time it had happened, it was after a promotional interview between the two before carlos' first year at ferrari ended and charles was tugged into the former's driver room, a wicked grin on the spaniard's face as he gently pressed charles up against the wall,
"spent a whole year thinking about that tight ass, i think i deserve it no? a celebratory gift?" carlos smirked, flipping charles so that his back faced him before getting onto his knees and jerked those skinny jeans off, his plump lips dragging over each ass cheek before spreading them apart and spitting onto his ring of muscle, tongue swirling around before pushing through, savoring his taste. charles' hands slammed against the wall, a soft moan falling from his lips as carlos continued to plunge his tongue deeper, one of his big hands circling around his waist to take charles' cock and giving his shaft a few pumps. charles' whimpers and pleas were music to carlos' ears, and he finally understood what max had meant when he told him to enjoy every second at ferrari.
but that was a few years ago, and charles was growing tired at having to be the one that endured their torment. he shuddered as he remembered what happened after the las vegas race in the last season, how carlos had spent the whole night refusing to let him cum until tears streamed down his face, apologizing again and again and even through it all, he was left to be tied up in his room till the next day, his cock weeping for mercy. he definitely learned his lesson after that. his eyes briefly met with carlos, taking note of the williams race suit and how it fit his body well. he frowned shortly after when you once again emerged, placing your hands on carlos' waist and guiding him towards you before adjusting his arms to a certain pose. your hands brushed against his own, and charles scowled.
how could you possibly dare and touch what was his? he craned his neck to see carlos' flirtatious smile and he seethed, wishing he had the opportunity to slam you to the ground and pound his cock into your ass, wanting to hear your whimpers and please. wanting to see you become what he was grown accustomed to because of max and carlos. max had sat back, bouncing his leg as he watched you walk over to him.
"4 time world champion? you aiming for 5th?" you smiled, grabbing the helmet from his hands and placing it besides him.
"i don't really care about championships, it would be nice but it isn't my sole focus," max chuckled, biting his lip when he saw you sink to your knees, pushing his knees apart gently, "woah now. you're playing a dangerous game, carlos might let it slide but i won't."
you winked at him, "i wouldn't have it any other way. trust me, i'm just doing my job!" but as you stood up, hands hovering over his clothed crotch, max had quickly caught onto your arm,
"you almost slipped, careful schatje, can't imagine your face pressed up against the floor, can you?" he licked his lips, eyes never leaving yours. you knew this was overstepping countless boundaries, having riled up two of the drivers on the current grid, but you figured nothing would really happen. besides, you needed something fun to keep you going for the shoot. as the lighting was being fixed in the background, you had finally approached the last driver: charles leclerc.
you could tell by the way he was looking at you that he wasn't technically amused by your presence, and the snarky attitude that he was giving you at the moment was starting to piss you off more and more. so in a twisted way of revenge, you gave him the outlandish pose that made him stand out from everybody else. one leg bent up on the bench he sat on, the other on the ground with his elbow on his knee. as you leaned forward to readjust his legs, he leaned forward and inhaled your scent as a soft groan escaped his lips. your hands pushed his leg apart farther from the other which earned a sharp whistle from carlos who was making sure charles kept his hands to himself. charles glared at him in response, the urge to finally prove that he wasn't just some toy to be tossed around. he had the capabilities to prove himself to the two men that were making crude jokes at him, fueling the red blush that painted his cheeks.
"comfortable?" you asked charles, brushing off his shoulders as his glare hardened on you,
"barely, but i suppose you'll feel this soon," he snarled and you were taken aback by his comment, but before you could respond carlos had snapped his fingers,
"oi! watch how you talk to her, cabrón," and charles muttered a few curses under his breath, adjusting the collar of his suit. he needed to have his hands on you, groping and squeezing your flesh, slapping your face as his cock drove into every hole you had to offer.
unfortunately, he wasn't the only one that shared this desire.
when the photos were taken, you clapped your hands with a smile, "thank you, drivers of the 2025 season! you guys did good!" and turned to your assistant, "give yourself a 10 minute break, I know I will. we'll come back and pack everything up later."
you exited the set, stretching your arms as you headed out to the paddock for a small walk before a hand came out to twist your ear, dragging you backwards. you turned your head while letting out a small yelp and found yourself facing carlos.
"where are you going, hermosa?" he asked, and you looked at your surroundings to find the paddock empty at the moment,
"just going for a small walk, trying to give my mind a break," you responded. carlos let out a laugh, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you flush against his side as he guided you towards somewhere unknown.
"your mind a break? you're funny, you know that?" he chortled, "very funny indeed. you think we'd let you go after the way you were feeling us during the shoot? think again, use that brain of yours. unless you're just a dumb fucking puta who's too busy chasing the cocks of her clients."
your jaw dropped at his words, absolutely stunned as he shoved you into his driver's room not far from where you originally were. you hit the ground, the icy cold texture of the tiles anything but comforting as you glanced over your shoulder to find max and carlos towering above you.
"didn't think you guys were this desperate," you teased as you propped yourself on your elbows, trying to ease the palpable tension in the room but your soft laughs quickly died down as carlos' shoe slotted itself between your thighs, the tip of his shoe rubbing harshly against your clothed cunt. your breath hitched, staring up at him with wide eyes as you felt the tip dig deeper, a sharp edge to it as he continued to maneuver it around in biting circles. max in the meantime, crouched down to your level and grabbed at the collar of your shirt, yanking it down as the buttons scatted around you, exposing your tits to their hungry gazes.
"no bra? she's more of a slut than charles is," he laughed, looking up at carlos who was too enraptured at the way your hips were already bucking up against his shoe. max's hands groped your tits, pinching your hardening nipples harshly before slapping them, relishing your mewls. the door to the carlos' room had swung open around this time to reveal charles who was panting heavily, clearly having spent the past few minutes running around desperately to find them both. his eyes landed on your sprawled out form, and they instantly darkened as he took a step forward.
"nuh uh," carlos stuck a hand out, blocking charles' path, "the fuck you think you're doing?"
"j-joining in?" charles frowned, glancing at the two other drivers, "look at her, she deserves to be put in her place for being so desperate for our cocks."
"not like she's any different from you, charles," max snickered, stepping over your body to grab onto charles' chin, "what's with the fucking attitude you've been having all morning? you forgotten who you belong to?"
"w-what?" charles scoffed, his face already burning with humiliation at the idea of being a sub once more, especially in front of you. he refused to be manhandled again, his mind already racing with thoughts on using your body and letting all his frustration onto you so that you would never know how instantly he'd crumble as soon as someone had their lips wrapped around his cock, or his ass stuffed with someone's cum. "i don't belong to anyone, what the hell are you talking about?"
the room fell silent almost immediately, save for charles' heavy breathing. max's grip only tightened on charles' chin, forcing the latter to beat against the unyielding fingers that seemed to determined to shatter his jaw. max glanced to carlos,
"our little slut forgot his place, can you believe that?"
you frowned, finding this whole interaction foreign as you never really thought the drivers would be arguing over who belong to who. in the back of your mind, you always sort of thought they must be fucking each other, but seeing it play out in front of you was a surreal experience. you slowly pulled your torn short together to cover your tits, rising to your feet as you took a step backwards.
"well, this has been fun and all but... clearly i'm interrupting something," you whispered, tip-toeing to the door. carlos rolled his eyes, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragged you onto your knees before charles,
"he's acting up because his cock's aching for her," carlos spat, shoving your face onto charles' crotch which elicited a choked gasp as his eyes flickered to the spaniard. carlos roughly shook your head once more, slamming your head back onto charles' suit, "he's clearly asking for it, go on take his cock out."
charles gasped as your face was forced against his now rock-hard bulge, his hips bucking involuntarily. This was so humiliating, he wanted to be the one in charge, not carlos or max. But as he stared at your hooded eyes, the way you were biting your lip, his knees buckled and he shoved max's hand away, unzipping his race suit and bringing his cock out. max's fingers curled around his shaft, hand sliding down and up as his tip leaked for you. you slowly wrapped your lips around his tip, easing yourself onto his cock but carlos' patience was running thin. he scoffed, glancing to the side for a second before grabbing your hair and yanking your head forward, slamming charles' cock past your lips and deep into your throat. your gags flooded the room as charles' whined out loud, throwing his head back against the wall.
max grabbed hold of charles' throat, using his forefinger to redirect his face towards him, "don't waste this fucking opportunity, you might never get it again. fuck her throat."
charles' clenched his jaw, shoving carlos' grip on your hair away before both his hands settled on the back of your head, pushing you further until your nose touched his pubic bone as he began to thrust into your throat with wild abandon, not caring about the way you were struggling to breathe, overwhelmed with intense pace. carlos palmed his dick through his race suit, watching in surprise at how charles seemed to vent out his frustrations through you, almost as if it was a desperate plea to max and carlos to let him finally have the chance to fuck them instead of the other way around. he let out a soft moan, his cock twitching in your throat.
"putain, je suis si proche," he whispered, feeling himself teetering on the edge before max grabbed your hair and shoved you to the ground, leaving charles' cock twitching as he cried out loud and bucked his hips helplessly into the empty space which you once occupied, feeling a part of his soul be ripped out as he realized what just happened, "fuck! no!"
"you really think you could cum after the shit you just said, puto?" carlos scoffed, reaching out on his shelf to grab a belt, folding it in half before letting it drag down charles' heaving chest. max had stripped himself of his clothes, stalking towards you before hauling you onto the couch in the corner of the room. with your back pressed against his chest, he pulled away at your clothes before spitting onto his fingers, toying with his saliva before letting it trail down your pussy that was already clenching at nothing. charles glanced at the sight of your bare cunt, groaning slightly as his cock was shaking with the urge to bury itself inside you, but instead he found his face pressed against the wall as carlos trailed the belt down the cleft of his ass. charles' face burned with humiliation, hating that you were now the audience to his punishment. a firm crack of the belt against his ass made him moan out loud, his ass involuntarily jutting out into the air.
seeing charles being used like this for some reason made you more aroused. you sort of wished that had you had full creative control, you could've placed him in whatever position he was in at the moment, the camera capturing him as nothing more than a desperate slut begging to have the attitude fucked out of him properly. carlos continued to smack his ass with the belt, the harsh cracks echoing in the room followed by a desperate cry from charles. in the meantime, max slapped at your folds, whispering how much he loved the way you jerked in his arms.
"should've met you sooner," max cooed, nipping at your earlobe, "I feel like you'd take my cock perfectly, won't you?"
his fingers shoved deep inside your pussy without warning, your head thrown back onto his shoulder as he continued to plunge them inside your gummy walls, smirking to carlos who had peered over his shoulder in annoyance at the way your moans were growing louder and louder. it didn't help that max's fingers were scissoring you, curling and hitting just where you needed him to. carlos turned his attention back to charles, licking his thumb before circling his sphincter, enjoying the way the man above was whimpering,
"carlos, please... please," charles whispered, face scrunched up in yearning as carlos pushed his thumb past the ring of muscle, prodding his insides. but upon hearing your loud moans, absolutely lost in pleasure as max's cock nestled inside your walls, carlos' annoyance was growing by the second. instead, he grabbed the belt off the ground, standing up and wrapping it around charles' neck and firmly securing it before wrapping the leather around his fist and dragging him to sit besides a table as he tied him to a leg on the table. charles kicked and thrashed, trying to fight back but was only met with a harsh resounding slap against his face, his eyes tearing up.
"cierra la puta boca," carlos snapped, before immediately walking over to where you were bouncing on max's cock, shoving his fingers deep down your throat to silence your moans. your eyes flew open, carlos' fingers curling in your throat as you gagged, your drool seeping through the corners of your mouth as you stared at him with wide eyes, almost pleading at him to slow down a bit. instead, he tore you off of max's cock, shoving you to the ground as he spread your legs and slid his cock along your folds, watching you buck your hips trying to chase after his throbbing member. charles tried to claw at the belt around his neck, his hand inching towards his unsatisfied cock but before he could bring himself the release he craved, max quickly caught hold of it and brought it to his own cock.
"come on schatje," max huffed out, a bit out of breath, "maybe if you can make me cum, i'll consider letting you."
and so as charles began to pump max's cock with renewed fervor at the promise of being able to cum, he let his lips wrap around his on track rival's cock, letting him use his throat to his liking. max's hands gripped the strands of charles' hair, driving his cock deeper and letting his balls slap against his chin as he threw his head back, "fuck, charles, fuck why are you even a driver? you're so much better being my cocksleeve."
carlos' cock was relentless as he fucked you, his hairy arms grabbing your thighs and slamming your cunt onto his cock with deep thrusts that made you sob. your hands flew to his chest, trying to maintain some balance but he grabbed your hands and held them against your thighs, folding you in half as he dipped his head to capture an areola in his mouth, suckling on your nipple as you arched your back off the tiled floor, a wanton moan escaping your lips. you tossed your head to the side, watching with perverse excitement at the way max was using charles' mouth as nothing more than a cumdump, shooting ropes of his cum and letting it fall onto the ferrari driver's chest before the current champion crouched down to his knees, shoving charles' cum covered mouth onto his own tits, letting him kiss and suck. charles' lips wrapped around a hardened peak, eyes peering up for validation as max began to drag his fingers around charles' leaky red cock, knowing how sensitive he was after being denied an orgasm for so long. however, the show you were watching was cut abruptly as carlos' hand found your jaw, tilting your head back to face him,
"eyes on me, zorra," he hissed, shoving his fingers down your throat once more, "when im fucking you, you look at me. unless you're that cock-hungry and want more, you greedy slut."
he reveled in the way your throat seemed to constrict and flex, struggling to take his fingers that deep. he brought himself knuckles deep into your mouth, seeing the tears glide down your face before he roughly pulled out, watching you cough and splutter saliva onto the floor beneath you. your mind was a foggy mess, having already cummed from max's fingers, and now another orgasm was approaching you as carlos' cock continued to split you open, his thumb rubbing your clit harshly. you shattered in his arms soon enough as you arched your back, whining his name out loud as you reached your orgasm.
"oh fu- oh no wait," you hoarsely whispered, feeling carlos manhandle you and prop you against the couch. he ran his hand through his hair before pointing at you,
"you don't stop rubbing that pussy of yours until I tell you to stop, comprendida?"
you nodded your head, whimpering at how sensitive you were especially since you were plugged up by his cum at the moment. regardless, you did as he asked and started to massage your sensitive pearl, clamping your mouth shut as you knew carlos didn't want to hear your moans overshadowing charles' whimpers.
charles had coughed when the belt was released from his neck and every notion of defiance that he had earlier, to try and pretend to be the one in charge in front of you was out of the window. he was so needy, begging to cum.
"please, please, i c-can't anymore," he whined, being positioned on all fours by max who smacked his ass,
"someone needs to shut up those whines," max scoffed, winking at carlos who was stroking his hardening cock, grabbing onto charles jaw and slipping his thumb past his lips as he jeered,
"listen to this little bitch, so desperate to cum."
charles whines only grew louder, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. he really wanted to cum, wanted to let go of the knot that continued to pit in his gut before being ripped away from him. max chuckled darkly, moving to stand behind charles. he spread charles' ass, exposing the tight, pink pucker of his hole, before spitting onto it, "fuck, look at it. begging for my cock."
charles gagged and choked around carlos' pistoning shaft, tears streaming down his face as he struggled not to cum from the brutal throat fucking. his asshole clenched, eagerly expecting the finger circling his sphincter to finally push inside and give him exactly what he wanted - max's cock. charles' eyes glanced over at you, watching you spread your legs wider as you bit your lip, struggling to keep quiet as you rubbed your clit, feeling yourself already on the brink of another orgasm. charles' eyes flashed with rage and a mix of barely contained jealousy at your ability to achieve an orgasm while he was being denied. yet, his attention on you was short-lived before he felt the tip of max's cock pressing against his tight hole, nudging itself into him as he let out a strangled, muffled moan around carlos' cock.
"he's so fucking perfect like this," max laughed, slapping charles' ass before burying himself completely, grabbing charles' hair to yank his head back, giving carlos more access to shove his cock further into his throat. carlos glanced down to see the way charles choked on his cock, drool frothing around his relentless shaft. as carlos continued to ruthlessly pound into charles' raw, abused throat, max had leaned in and captured carlos' lips in a heated kiss. carlos kissed back fiercely, his tongue invading max's mouth as he hilted his massive cock in charles' mouth.
charles began to sputter around the thick shaft violating his throat, tears and drool splattering his face. the depraved display of carlos and max making out above him as they used his body sent jolts of pleasure through his core, realizing that no matter what he always would be theirs, their little fucktoy to use whenever they wanted.
second later, max broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting their lips. max threw his head back, hands gripping onto charles' waist as his hips snapped against his, "fuck, he's so tight. i forget how tight his ass his, how he takes my cock all the time like the good slut that he fucking is."
carlos groaned out loud as he pulled his cock out, splattering his cum all over charles' face before harshly gripping onto his jaw, "let's start this again, hm? who do you belong to, puto?"
"y-you," charles moaned, thrusting his ass onto max who merely growled and picked up his pace.
"me and...?"
"you and max," charles cried out, as max's cum painted the insides of his anus, "i belong to you and max."
charles slumped against the floor, glancing over to see the way you were still rubbing your overstimulated clit, tears streaming down your face. in the midst of all this, the three of them had forgotten that you were still there, following carlos' instructions diligently. carlos took note of the way your face and tits were covered in their cum, your pussy leaking with his own cum and he glanced back down to charles who was still hard and most importantly, still hadn't cummed. he grinned at max, standing up and shrugging his shoulders,
"i think our slut's learned his lesson, he deserves a reward," carlos began and max smirked, glancing over to your shaking form,
"by all means," he grabbed onto charles, pulling up to his knees before smacking his ass, "you know what to do, charles."
and that's all charles needed to hear before he's crawling towards you, a dangerous glint in his eyes that made you shudder in anticipation. you could see the pent-up frustration and desperation to finally find his own release. he lunged forward, ignoring your squeals as he roughly pushed your legs apart, burying his face between your thighs. he attacked your pussy like a starved man, not caring at the way you were pushing his head away weakly or the fact that carlos' cum was still inside you. in fact, charles was enjoying the taste of the mixture of juices, licking and sucking your sensitive folds with brutal intensity. his tongue delved deep, fucking your hole and lapping up your arousal, now amplified from watching him be used so roughly. charles didn't let up his relentless assault on your cunt, eating you with a ferocity you'd never experienced before. he was determined to make you fall apart before he even thought about fucking you the way he wanted to when he first laid eyes on you. he focused his attention on your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it rapidly. two fingers plunged knuckle-deep into your soaked cunt, pumping in and out at a punishing pace. the obscene sound of his fingers squelching in your juices filled the room, mingling with your wanton moans and pleas for him to slow down and have some mercy, but he was too far gone, having craved this moment for so long.
carlos and max were busy dressing themselves up, kissing each other briefly as they turned to see you helplessly stretch your arm out to them, begging them to at least tell charles to slow down. you were still racked with multiple orgasms before this, your body was shaking at the intensity. charles felt your pussy clench and quiver around his plunging fingers, your juices flowing freely as he brought you closer to the edge. he doubled his efforts, sucking your clit hard as he curled his fingers inside you, rubbing that sensitive spot deep within your core.
"fuck, putain, your cunt tastes so fucking good," charles growled against your folds, his hot breath making your skin tingle. "i cannot wait to feel it squeezing my cock."
he bit down on your clit, sending a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you. at the same time, he slammed a third finger into your tight channel, stretching you as he finger-fucked you hard and fast, watching your face contort in pleasure as your gripped onto his hair, almost ripping it off his head as you screamed out loud, squirting all over his face. he lapped at the juices you had to offer him, drinking it up as if it were the last thing he would ever be able to savor in his life, before he slid his aching cock against your folds. you gulped, still not over from the after shock of that intense orgasm before his tip was already pushing inside you. in one brutal thrust, he shoved his aching, throbbing cock deep inside your dripping pussy. he didn't give you any time to adjust, fucking into you with wild abandon, chasing his long-denied release.
"fuck, your cunt feels incredible," charles snarls, pounding into you with animalistic intensity. "So fucking tight and wet, squeezing my cock so good like that."
he hooked your legs over his shoulders, nearly bending you in half as he loomed over you, hips slapping against yours with brutal force. he was rutting into you like a bitch in heat, unable to control himself. he could feel his balls tightening once more, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he was close to cumming, and he wasn't going to do so until he brought you to another mind-shattering orgasm. he brought his thumb to press down onto your clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as you were practically screaming, tossing your head to the side to see max and carlos, shuffling out of the room.
"this is what happens when you tease us, especially charles," carlos laughed, winking at you as you threw your head back to let out another guttural moan.
"have fun and enjoy!" max smiled, waving at you before shutting the door behind him. your attention went back immediately to charles who shifted his angle slightly, his cock head slamming directly into that sensitive spot deep inside you with every thrust. your pussy clenched around his invading shaft, trying in vain to hold him inside you before you came undone once more, sobbing loudly as you were met with another mind melting orgasm. this only spurred charles on, and he whined pathetically as he cummed inside you, his cum coating your insides before he collapsed on top of you.
he lifted his head up slightly, "do you do private photoshoots?"
you stared at him in shock, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the orgasm, "private as in...?"
"just for us three, maybe another driver but it's up to them, really," charles whispered, and you propped yourself on your elbows,
"maybe if i'm paid extra, but under one condition."
charles nodded his head, already liking the idea of having his own personal slut. if max and carlos could use him to their will, he should be allowed to have someone to himself. "of course, of course, what's the condition?"
"im tying your ass up in every photo from now on," you proposed, which only made charles whine as he buried his face between your tits.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you - a famous actress coming back into acting after a small rested break and a messy break-up. david - the star of the superman movie who's currently having a heart attack seeing you in a PR relationship with his co-star, nicholas.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: david corenswet x established actress!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): fluff, angst this man is pining for you lol, slowburn (?) i think it counts as slowburn
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: did i use an oc superhero name for this fic? yes, it was the only way it could work lol but yayyy my second david fic! also key note for the fic, the story jumps around timelines so italics is past, normal is present!
When James Gunn had offered you the role of Doctor Confound, the very first thing you had said to him over the phone was:
"Really? Me? Couldn't find anyone better?"
Now, this had nothing to do with your list of accolades you'd achieved in a short time, nor did it deal with your initial dislike of being in a superhero film. You trusted Gunn, the guy did wonders in Marvel and you were sure he'd do the same for an iconic character in the DC universe. What you didn't trust, however, was the idea of ringing you up at 3 am in the morning after dealing with a public fallout with your ex-boyfriend that was plastered on everyone's morning newspaper. Front page, too.
Journalism's dead, you had thought when you'd finally gotten your hands on the latest issue before shoving it into the trashcan. Being famous hadn't really given you the perks you'd liked, not when paparazzi had been following you everywhere to ask what caused that embarrassing meltdown in front of your boyfriend's house one night which led to an argument that almost turned into a fistfight if it wasn't for his mistress stepping in to "save the day". It didn't help when you had to go back to filming the next day, only to be labeled as difficult to work with when you were just in an awful mood and needed a break. So you did take a break, one far away from Hollywood in a small, cozy cabin sleeping away until your phone rang and that crazy yet amazing director had reached out to you because he apparently saw one of your movies and decided you'd be perfect for the role.
"I-I don't know, James," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You had sat up on the edge of the bed, glancing at the snow falling outside the window. The streetlamps were distant to your eyes, a soft circle of light that did little to ease that funny feeling shifting in your guts. This was your break, a chance to put that past behind you and find peace outside of fame. It never brought you good anyway; who even cares about those shiny trinkets? You stood up on stage a few times up there, thanking your director and producers before the violins started playing, shoving you back to your seat before you even had a chance to thank your ex-boyfriend for his support - yeah, you remembered that argument when you came back home that night.
"Listen, I know you might feel… conflicted," James' voice softened on the other side of the phone, "But trust me, you are the only one I know that can bring justice to this character. I'll send the script to your cabin and just let me know what you think."
The line went silent after he hung up, leaving you to your thoughts. Well, there was no harm in trying, right?
"Lovely to see you again, (Y/N)." Nicholas greeted you, pulling you in for a hug. You saw the way the gears in his head turned when he nearly pulled you in for a kiss on the side of your head, but chose instead to kiss your cheek. Something a little more intimate that would get the public talking, at least that's what both your PR managers told you. You always hated press tours, it was the one thing you couldn't wait to escape. Sitting in a chair all day, having to pay attention to each question and talk about the movie you're working on, maybe Hollywood was right when they called you a diva. You tried your best to put on a smile for the cameras, especially when you were told that this movie would be a clean slate for you, a chance to get back on the good side of the general audience.
"The ideal here is to make sure no one remembers you and your ex breaking up," your manager, Jackie, whispered into your ear when you got yourself seated besides Nicholas. The only reason the two of you were kissing up to the camera was because Nicholas was a better known actor than the main star, David Corenswet, who sat right besides you. You didn't dare turn your head to face him, not after all that happened on set. It was like the unspoken rule, and you didn't have any desire to break it.
"There you are, (Y/N)!" James chirped when you walked in for the table reading. You were a few minutes late; well, no, you were on time but you spent the past 5 minutes pacing in a bathroom, feeling like you were about to throw up. The last time you did a table read, you remembered how your boyfriend kept spamming messages, asking where the sugar was, where the paprika was, all for a sandwich that he ended up throwing into the trash. You still remembered the way the other actors were staring at you, a little confused but mainly disgruntled at your unprofessional behavior. It made you feel like those Oscars meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, that you were just the klutz that you were when you first started in the industry.
So here you were, standing at the door to see everyone staring at you. You squeaked out a small, "hi" before looking around the table to see if there were any empty seats. You could always do what you did for another movie - sit on the floor with your salad, munching away as if nothing was wrong, even if you overheard the other actors snickering about you being put in your place, for always being the cunt that stood up for herself.
"Here!" A big, burly man with black curls grinned, gesturing to an empty space besides him. You snapped out of your thoughts, meeting his blue eyes and for a moment, it was like everything else disappeared. God, he was stunning and you had to mentally lock in, forcing a smile with a nod of your head. Come on, (Y/N), lock in! This was supposed to be your shot at reinventing yourself, not ogling at the hunk sitting next to you.
"I'm David," The man greeted, extending his hand out for you to shake. You accepted, giving it a firm squeeze,
"I'm (Y-"
"No, I know. You're (Y/N)." He exclaimed, his hand lingering a little too long before he pulled it back. You noticed the way he brought his palms under his thighs, almost like a little kid who had just been caught in trouble. Rachel leaned forward, a smirk on her face as she rolled her eyes,
"David's a big fan of your works," She exclaimed, "A really big fan. Couldn't stop talking about you when he found out you're gonna be part of this film."
"In my defense," David raised his forefinger in the air. He narrowed his eyes at Rachel, before they flickered to you. God, his eyes were so blue. "I just think you're a phenomenal actress and your awards are all deserved, you worked hard for them. I mean, your performance in Portrait of a Missing Man-"
"Alright, settle down," James called out, a hint of exasperation coloring his tone, "Let's not start this again." The director glanced at you with a soft smile, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder, "I'm just glad you're here, you're gonna be amazing, (Y/N)."
He turned back to face the crowd with a big smile, "Alright, from the top! Act 1, Scene 1!"
You noticed the way David's eyes stilled on you for a second, as if he wanted to say something else before he turned back to read the opening scene.
David had never had a press tour as massive as this one before. After all, this was his breakout role, he wasn't just a small guy in indie films. He was Superman - or wait, no, no… he was playing Superman, there's an important difference there.
As he glanced to see you and Nicholas walking together up ahead during an event, he told himself that he now knew 100% that he absolutely despised press tours. Who even cares about PR relationships? If the movie was going to get promoted, it should've been done through the story, through the actors, through all the hard work the Gunn put into making this film, not a phony relationship that was going to end as soon as the film came out. Ah, there it was, the jealousy. He swore he was above feeling things like that, but he couldn't help himself. Despite being the main lead for the movie, he felt like he was missing out on something and God help him, but he was just about ready to tear Nicholas away and pummel him to the ground for agreeing to this arrangement. Nick was a nice guy, though, and an amazing actor. It wouldn't be fair, besides David hadn't reached the fame and caliber of his co-star yet anyway.
"How are those laser eyes working for ya?" Rachel teased, coming up behind David. The man snapped his neck over his shoulder, looking down at the actress with looks that could kill.
"I'm not shooting laser eyes," David mumbled, "Our human eyes can't-"
"Yeah, I'm well aware," Rachel scoffed, "It was a joke, David. I'd be more concerned if you actually could shoot lasers out of your eyes. Because then we'd have two co-stars dead."
"Is this all really necessary?" David grumbled, walking alongside Rachel. He had his hands folded behind his back, worried that he might reach out to steal you for himself. "Like, maybe it's just me, but I can't fathom why a PR relationship is needed for this film."
"Well, think about it," Rachel reasoned, glancing to you and Nicholas, "She had a really messy breakup with her ex, reportedly had an attitude problem that caused a few films to be dropped. She's just trying to get a better public image."
"She doesn't need all that," David whined, shaking his head, "She's a talented actress, all people have to do is watch the movie!" He had his arms stretching to the ground, brows furrowed together, "She's an amazing person, incredibly hardworking, she's… she's perfect!"
Rachel paused in her tracks, a growing smile on her face as she studied David, carefully. "Yeah, well, you're gonna have to put that silly little crush to the side, David."
He instantly blushed at her words, his face turning beet red. Clearing his throat, he walked off as Rachel trailed behind him, "I-It's not a crush, I just… I respect her a lot."
"Oh yeah? Because from what I could tell when we filmed this movie, it was anything but mere respect."
Doctor Confound's character was an anti-hero. That's what Gunn had told you on set. A woman wronged by the world she once thought she could save, shunned away because of her powers. She had a similar past like Superman, but when the city turned against her, instead of trying to prove herself, she found peace in her own dark thoughts and chose to wreak havoc instead. You really didn't understand what role you'd be playing until James explained that you'd reluctantly help Superman stop Lex, you couldn't stand to see someone else go through the same fate that you did. A complex person, a morally gray personality, wasn't the first time you'd play a character like this before.
It should've been a walk in the park if it wasn't for that 6'4 giant towering behind you in every scene you shared together, staring at you like you were his entire world or something.
"We're supposed to be fighting each other here," you pointed out, watching the crew members hook you up to various strings.
"Yeah," David smiled, flashing his dimples. He seemed so happy, it made you sick. Just a man filled with sunshine and rainbows. The both of you had spent days practicing the choreographed fight. You sometimes pitched in a tip or two, not that it mattered but you felt as someone who'd done big projects like this before, it was the least you could do. He ate up every word you said, following you around like a puppy at times to ask more nuanced questions about your performance.
He was eager to learn, that's what he told you but you could tell there was something amiss in those blue orbs when he looked at you. You just had to smile and nod, your ego growing slightly at the fact that this beast of a man was bending down slightly whenever he wanted advice on acting.
"You're the one with the awards, not me," David laughed, and you rolled your eyes, a small smirk playing on your lips.
The two of you were dangling off these chords, and you couldn't help but giggle when David clutched his crotch, complaining about how tight the mechanics were.
"Put some ice on it later or something," You snickered, before shooting up into the air causing you to yelp out loud. David glanced up, a hand above his eyes. Those damn dimples, you were close to biting them off him. He flew up besides you, and you waited for the signal from James before the both of you started throwing punches.
"It's like watching swans dance," Nicholas had snickered to Rachel; the two of them stood behind the monitor, watching the scene unfold.
A dodge to the left, punch to the right. Kick, kick and then David's elbow -
"Oh, shit!" you cried out, clutching your chin. His elbow misplaced and hit you firmly. David's eyes widened, his hands flying out to cup your face,
"I'm so sorry, oh my, I didn't mean it, shit!" he exclaimed, his thumb brushing over your bruising flesh. You felt his breath wash over your face, eyes all wide with worry and regret. You gulped, making the mistake of looking into his eyes and the both of you just stood there in the air. His eyes flicked down to your lips, the pad of his thumb swiping against your bottom lip slowly, as if memorizing the softness of it before James' booming voice ordered the two of you to be lowered down to the ground so someone could check on your chin. You pulled away, taking in a shaky breath when your feet hit the floor once more, eyes darting to David who stood there.
"I'm sorry," he mouthed, but you couldn't tell if it was for the hit, or the way he had started at you, so longingly. It wasn't a little crush anymore, that you knew.
"(Y/N) (L/N)!" The interviewer smiled as soon as he sat down. Your eyes widened slightly at how enthusiastic you seemed, and Nicholas, clearly playing into his role perfectly, adjusted your dress to cover your legs a bit more - the gentleman act would do wonders online.
David's hands clenched into fists, his lips pursed together. He shifted in his seat, trying to ignore the envy burning in his veins. He bent down to put down his water bottle under the leg of his chair, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw you staring at him. Your eyes immediately looked away, back straightening up as you turned to face Nicholas and David couldn't help but smirk to himself. He sat back up as well, admiring how gorgeous you looked in this dress. He had to shake his head, dispelling those thoughts as soon as they had came back, not wanting to risk causing a scene in front of everyone.
"You're finally coming back to doing big projects again," The interviewer smiled, "This must be a big leap, is it not?"
"Yeah," You nodded your head, "I didn't really think I was up for it but James really convinced me and of course," you gestured to your co-stars with a laugh, "these guys were fun to work with."
"I'd prefer you say my name," Nicholas snorted, "Not just any guy to you (Y/N)," and you rolled your eyes, jabbing a thumb in the blonde's direction,
"This guy, has been nothing but hell for me. I hate working with him." You shook your head, "I heard such great things about Nicholas, and then I'm on set wondering who lied to me?"
"Ouch," He brought a hand to his chest, face contorting in outrage, "You say all these things but I know deep down you love me."
You met Nicholas' eyes, pouting his way, "Unfortunately, yes, I do love you."
David sighed deeply, earning a nudge from Rachel. He caught her gaze, noting the stern look in her eyes. Shit, right. Get it together, David. You can't be doing the heartbroken Casanova bit on camera right now. The interview had barely noticed the tension, going down his list of questions with ease, until he got to the very last one that really managed to tick off the growing time bomb within you:
"So, back to (Y/N), first time in this superhero universe, whatnot." The man looked up at you, a critical look in his eyes. You'd seen that before, when one of your co-stars in the past asked you to stop being such a bitch when you had specifically asked him to not block the camera when you were stating your lines. That look that made you crack and yell insults the last time someone spoke about your "difficult nature" when working on a film. With the things you went through at the time, you were surprised you hadn't gone further. But you couldn't do that now, this film was meant to get you back in the game, not push you out any further. "How'd it feel to be in a suit like Doctor Confound's? It's skin-tight, really tight actually, did you have to wear any special underwear for that?"
Your jaw dropped, struggling to process what had just been asked. Did someone seriously ask you this question? You expected it 10 years ago when you first started out as a wide-eyed teen, navigating the industry by yourself but the fact that nothing had changed in all this time stunned you into silence. Special underwear, where did this guy even get his degree?
"That's not… an appropriate question," David chuckled, trying to clear the air. "You didn't ask me anything about my costume, c'mon now."
"Talk about real journalism, huh?" Rachel snorted, shaking her head, "Who cares what she's wearing to get into that suit, you don't ask a lady that. Especially someone as big as (Y/N)!"
"Exactly," David snapped, his gaze hardening at the interviewer, "If you want to ask questions, why not ask about her talent? Her records, her accolades? All that she's accomplished, her craft and process for this film? You have a thousand different things and yet you chose the worst possible one."
As much as you hated it, you had to break the rule in your head and you turned to David, and you saw behind those blue eyes, there was this igniting flame in them. He was playing it cool, but you knew the truth. It was the same look he gave you that one night.
This was the 5th time that both of you had nearly kissed each other. Even in scenes that didn't have this much tension, it was like you lost your professionalism completely. You gave David grace considering that you were technically his senior in the industry and should've been more disciplined, but every day filming with him turned into hell. And so you did what you always knew how to do, push people away and insult them. Give them a reason to forget about you. Be difficult to work with.
Yet, David was different. He caught onto your game instantly, he spent the past 6 weeks filming with you, of course he knew how you'd react to certain situations. Forget about being your biggest fan, he didn't care about that at all anymore. When he came to set, he didn't see you as the famous movie star, he saw you as the girl he wanted to come home to. Someone to love, to cherish. To wake up next to in bed, nuzzling into your neck and whisper sweet praises. You were so nice to the crew members, stopping by during lunch breaks to ask them about their job and how they were doing, he couldn't believe the tabloids had made it seem like you were a crazy bitch. You were much more than that, and he hated that you couldn't see it as much as him.
It was intense scene that day, Doctor Confound and Superman were having an argument about saving humanity. She didn't care, and he cared. You lost count of how many takes the both of you did, James wanted perfection and you were getting irritated. It was late at night anyway, and you couldn't help but dream about a nice, cozy bed to go back to once he yelled cut for the final time.
"I understand you were wronged," David - err, well - Superman exclaimed. "But you can't just give up on all of them. There is good in this world, and it needs to saved. Not everyone is the villain you make them out to be."
Doctor Confound laughed, a bitter sound as she turned to glare at the superhero, "When I lost my family, there wasn't a single person here to help me. Not one soul. The entire city turned against you-"
"Not everyone-"
"It doesn't matter, it starts off as a small crowd but they'll be gone too," She spat, "Just like everyone else did. You wanna save them? Stop caring, you care too much. You trust too much, even now, what makes you think I won't beat you unconscious and use my powers against you?"
She swung at his face before he caught it, lowering her fist slowly with a look that could kill,
"Because you're just projecting. And I know the real you, you're just like me in your own way. But the more you push, I'll push back stronger. You do the one thing everyone did to you because you think it'll make you stronger, no. You're only hurting yourself, I just don't see why you won't let me in."
"Aaaand, cut!" James' voice echoed in the background. Yet, the both of you stood still, staring into each other's eyes. You took a step back without another word, hopping off set knowing that David's gaze was boring into your soul.
There was a knock on your trailer an hour or two later, a sound that you knew deep down belonged to the person you didn't want to see at this time. You took in a deep breath, staring at your reflection in the mirror before walking over and opening the door. You didn't get a chance to speak before he pushed himself inside, closing the door behind him. He was still wearing the Superman suit, the curls tousled and falling across his forehead. You saw the remnants of pink hair-clips, something that made your heart soften if it wasn't for the way he was glaring at you.
"We need to talk," David began, and you dismissed him with a wave of your hand,
"Not interested, get out."
He caught your wrist, squeezing it firmly before his touch gentled, "No, I mean it (Y/N). We need to talk. You've been avoiding me for the past two weeks, you've been insulting me at every turn."
"Well, get used to it," You shoved his hand away, grabbing a cleanex to wipe the rest of your make-up off. His shoulders slumped, head falling back to glance at the ceiling, holding back his temper. When he spoke again, his voice was fragile, on the verge of breaking,
"Did I do something wrong?" He whispered, "Is that why you don't like being around me anymore? You can tell me, I'll… I'll fix it, I'll make it right. Just don't… don't ignore me like this, please. It hurts."
Your heart clenched at the way he sounded so broken, your gaze flickering to the pout on his lips, his blue eyes widening in desperation. You reached out to cup his face before quickly correcting yourself, turning your back to him.
"It's nothing," You spat, "Just… get out, I don't have time to waste away like this."
He spun you around, ignoring your gasp. His eyes had hardened, but you could see the tears threatening to spill over. "It doesn't hurt me that you're pushing me away, it hurts me that you know it's wrong to do it, you and I both know that you want me just as much as I want you, but you're too stubborn to admit it."
"How do you know I want you?" You scoffed, "You're imagining things?"
"Oh yeah?" David frowned, "Well, I can tell because you spend every morning waiting by the cast sign-in sheet until I show up. You grab me the coffee I like and sit down next to me and if anyone else comes over, you scoot real close to me and make sure no one else sits next to me. You like to watch me practice my lines, leaning over my shoulder to point out certain notes. You giggle when I mess up a line, you purposely stop walking when I trail behind you only to tease me when I bump into you. There's a thousand other things, the list goes on (Y/N), and the one thing I can't get out of my head is that whenever we do scenes together, you always glance at my lips and lean in closer as if you're about to kiss me but then you walk away."
You blinked a few times, listening to his passionate ramble. His chest heaved in exhaustion, hands cupping your face, "I can't do this anymore. I can't… I can't go the rest of these last few weeks pretending like I don't have feelings for you, that I don't want to be with you."
"David, I'm not the type of girl you want," You blurted out, removing his hands from your face, "I'm rude, I'm difficult, I'm a terrible girlfriend-"
"You're just repeating things people told you," David sighed, taking a step back to give you some space. He realized halfway through his rant that he was crossing boundaries and he didn't want to impose on you. If you didn't feel for him, then that was that. It's not like he could force you to reciprocate what he felt. "But in all these months filming with you, I've never once thought you were anything but… perfect. For me, at least."
"I can't get into another relationship," you whispered, "I don't… I'm not ready, I just… need time."
David's eyes widened, feeling regret for thinking that he might've been forcing you to feel the way he did. His parents raised him better than that, what was he doing? He nodded his head, taking another step back, hands held up in a placating gesture, "I understand. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… that was wrong of me, I'm really sorry (Y/N)." his voice dropped to a whisper, mumbling to himself as he turned away, "such an idiot, should've never done that. She's clearly not interested, God, David…"
He walked out of the trailer, closing the door behind him leaving you behind and wondering if you had just made a big mistake.
"Having fun with Nicholas?" David's voice rang out in the hallway. The two of you had stepped out to use the bathroom before another event for the press tour began. You could hear the jealousy in his tone, a bitter sound that grated your ears.
"Getting jealous?" You retorted, and David rolled his eyes. He smoothed down his suit, trying to remain calm. You sighed, stepping into the bathroom to reapply your lipstick when you saw him standing outside. Ugh, even after all these petty arguments, he was still a gentleman. You grabbed him by his collar, yanking him into the tiny room. David groaned, his body pressed up against yours in a way that made you both gasp. He glanced over your shoulder at the mirror, before furrowing his brows to fix you with a stern frown.
"You do things like this," David mumbled, pouting slightly, "And wonder why I'm getting upset."
"You get upset easily," You snorted, turning to the mirror once more, lipstick in hand. David stood behind you, crouching slightly so that you could see him as well,
"No, I do not!" He cried out, "I just… okay, yeah. I am jealous, I'm really jealous that you're up all over Nick, when you told me that you weren't ready for a relationship."
"What I have with Nick isn't real," You pointed out and David threw his hands in the air,
"Yeah well… well, ugh! It looks pretty real to me," David crossed his arms across his chest, "The way you lean into him, the way he has his hand on the small of your back and might I add," He held his finger up like he always did, "he kisses your cheek every opportunity he gets, even I never did that!"
"So," You raised an eyebrow, "You want to kiss me?"
David stood there, staring at you like a deer in headlights. Blush crept up on his cheeks as he struggled to respond to you, "I mean… well, if you want… but…" he took in a deep breath, pacing the bathroom before turning back to face you, "Look, I can't play this game anymore. It's killing me, I can't stand to see you with him, because every day I wish it was me. If I kiss you, I want it to be that you want me to kiss you, not me trying to make you understand how I feel. Because, what's the point if you don't truly want me?"
The both of you stood there, staring at each other and holding your breath. There was silence, a loud silence that hung over you two before you pointed your lipstick at him,
"If I kiss you, how do I know for sure that you're not going to just… leave me to the wolves? You know the shit I've dealt with these past few years, the things I've had to go through," Your voice nearly broke but you held it in, "How do I know this isn't just infatuation, that you're not only feeling these things because we worked on a movie together?"
"Because if it was, I would've given up on you after what happened in your trailer," David responded, taking a step closer to you, "I would've stopped thinking about you, stopped kicking myself over and over again about how I shouldn't have bothered you like that, worrying if I scared you away for good. I would've stopped wanting you, and I've never stopped having these feelings for you, (Y/N)."
He cupped your face, his thumb caressing your cheek, "This sounds corny, in hindsight, but I really like you, (Y/N). Not like, in a number one fan kind of way, though arguably I would say -"
"Cut to the chase," You snapped, and David awkwardly nodded his head,
"Right, right… I like you for who you are, how you made me feel so welcomed and safe, how you put so much effort into what you do. I love the way you laugh, the way you joke around and giggle at the tiniest of things. You're more than just a silly crush to me, (Y/N). And I really wish you could give me a chance to show you what I mean." He exclaimed, his voice so soft and reverent that it made your heart skip a beat.
Outside, there was a knock on the bathroom's door. A familiar voice calling out to you,
"(Y/N)! We've got to get back on stage in like 5 minutes, hurry up!" Nicholas' voice called out, and you saw the way David's shoulder slumped, the way he seemed to close in on himself in defeat.
"I don't want to waste any more of your time," He mumbled, gesturing to the door, "You've got to-"
His words are cut off by your lips crashing against his, catching him off guard. His eyes widened for a second, before his instincts took over and his arms wrapped around your waist, crushing his body against yours. One hand slid up to tangle in your hair, tilting your head back for a better angle, while the other grabbed onto your thigh and helped you wrap your leg around his waist. You cupped his head into your hands, kissing him with equal fervor. You couldn't do this anymore, couldn't hold back. Who cared about all those rules you had in your head, none of that mattered anymore.
Yeah, right, like you could resist this bear of a man pouting at you, forget about it! You moved your lips against his, the both of you working in tandem, not a care in the world about the man outside knocking, the lipstick being smeared. All that mattered was the feel of him in your arms, his lips against yours and the way his heart hammered against your chest. You couldn't help but smile, blushing at the intensity of the kiss. David couldn't stop giggling against your lips,
"Does this mean you'd be interested in going on a date with me?" He asked, peppering his lips against your cheek. You couldn't help but laugh, nodding your head,
"I'm offended you'd even ask," and he chuckled, a low rumble escaping him before he kissed you once more, grinning from ear-to-ear.
"Good Lord," Nicholas knocked on the door once more, "What is she even doing in there?"
He pressed his ear to the door, wanting to make sure you weren't in danger when he heard the sound of David groaning slightly, whispering about how long he'd dreamed of this moment. Nicholas pulled back from the door, clearing his throat as he looked around,
"Um, yeah… not my business," and he shuffled out of the hallway, leaving the lovebirds alone.
𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙖𝙨𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙞𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙨
✶ the lights, cameras and props aren't enough to hide your mistakes when you've angered a few of your associates ; this follows my hollywood!au and as always 18+, minors dni!
✶ drivers involved: carlos sainz jr., charles leclerc, max verstappen, lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, jenson button, fernando alonso, daniel ricciardo, sebastian vettel
✶ warnings: smutttt, p in v, breeding kink, slapping, cunnilingus, blowjobs, spanking hehehe
🎥 producer!carlos sainz jr.
"famed actress (y/n) (l/n) criticizes Sainz 55's production company... i'm not here to be second..." carlos reads through the headline of the front page, before throwing the newspaper at your face. you flinch and turn your head to the side, breath shaking as you continue to bounce on his cock. your arms are tied behind you with his belt, the leather bound so tight that you swear it might be cutting off circulation. your mouth is stuffed with your panties, the lovely mascara you had bought was now running down your cheek; like delicate rivers streaming across the globe as he put it. he shifts in his seat, causing you to let out a muffled cry as the tip of his cock pushes further into you. his hands are behind his head, a grin on his face as he sees you all helpless and vulnerable like this. just like when you first came to his office asking for him to make you a star.
"after everything we've been through, cariño, this is how you'll repay me? wanting to leave?" he laughs, a coldness in his voice that cuts into your skin. goosebumps trail your body as he gently blows on your hardened nipples, begging for his attention. when you pause just a bit from riding him, he rolls the newspaper and smacks your ass, sending you forward onto his chest. he won't touch you nor help you. instead he bucks his hips forward, relishing in your cries. he can hear your muffled apologies, and he merely shakes his head, "from the top, mi vida, for an award winning actress, you sure are terrible at delivering a good performance for me to enjoy. come on, make me cum before i decide to throw you out, permanently."
you roll your hips, nodding your head as you continue, your thighs burning from exertion.
🎥 actor!daniel ricciardo
"that was my scene, you know that was my scene," daniel hisses into your ear, fingers deep inside you in your trailer. you gasp out loud, gripping onto his shoulders as he continues his relentless assault, waiting for you to cum for the third time. you moan, mouth open wide as he spits into your mouth, grabbing your chin so you can stare into his eyes, "this is my big chance to get back on the big screen. i'm not letting you ruin that for me."
perhaps wanting to outperform him in front of the cameras was a mistake. you do recall seeing the cameraman flinch a bit. you did great, you always did but they could see daniel ready to pounce on you as soon as the director yelled cut. now you're in your trailer, being shoved down onto all fours. he grabs his phone and props it on the table as he slips off his shirt. "we'll see who's better now, cunt" and he brings his head down, eating you out from behind. his tongue slips into your dripping pussy with ease, smiling as you're mewling and shaking. fuck, as much as you hated him for always trying to get in your spotlight, you couldn't let this opportunity pass. you might even help him get a few more roles if he could make you squirt all over his body.
🎥 actor!max verstappen
"ok, i made my sister win those oscars, what are you going to do about it, hm?" max scoffs, leaning against the wall during the afterparty. you snarl at him, smacking him across his face.
"i would've won. i would've won all these years had you not been busy screwing me over like this," you watch him stumble backwards, your handprint blooming on his face. his expression of shock turns into one of anger and he grabs you, dragging you off to the bathroom. once inside, he bunches your dress up and bends you over the counter, laughing as he sees your pussy gaping for him. "schatje, i didn't know your pussy was this sweet, waiting so patiently... crying for me to fill you up."
you're screaming as his cock buries to the hilt inside of you, slapping your ass hard so that every time you sat down, you'd only be reminded of him. he licked his lips, bringing your back to his chest as his pace became faster, "oh fuck, maybe if you became my personal little slut, i'll try talking to the association to give you all the awards next year."
you smile at his words, "fuck... i can get behind that."
"maybe though... it's a maybe. maybe i might change my mind, and fuck this pretty pussy of yours raw, fill you with my cum again and again until the media comes to know of our future child," and despite his words, you're clenching around his cock because you always loved a little thrill in your life.
🎥 producer!lewis hamilton
"how ungrateful of a whore do you have to be?" lewis laughs, watching you on your knees as you suck his cock. you bob your head around his throbbing member, the sinful noises you have to offer fueling him as he grabs the back of your head and shoves you deeper down. "fuck, you sound gorgeous."
he can see you smile through the deed. he looks up to see your offer to switch to his production company for a year. an interesting contract, he knows you'll renew it if you're successful with him. especially if you're worshipping his cock like this. he grabs his phone, and takes a few pictures of you. he even records his cock ramming into your swollen cunt, your tits bouncing as he fucks you raw against his desk.
"rec-recording for oh!" you arch your back, cumming once more before whining as he continued to fuck you, "recording for memories?"
"you could say that," lewis grins, his thumb hovering over carlos's contract. if you were willing to go against carlos's back to contact him again and again, despite all the times he rejected your offers, then how loyal would you even be when you signed with him? you're extremely talented, though, he'd be a fool not to sign you. your cunt was also pure heaven.
🎥 actor!charles leclerc
"how inexperienced do you think i am?" charles scoffs, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. you're on set of a film with him, already getting off on bad terms because you couldn't stand the fact that this newbie was receiving more attention than you. it was a sex scene, one you signed up for because this was just normal for you. only difference was that in this makeshift room with no light at all spare an artificial moon outside the window, charles was fucking you for real. no fake socks, no skin color underwear. he had shoved those panties to the side a long time ago and rubbed your clit hard right before the director yelled action. method acting, that's what the assistants on set whispered before leaving.
"you think i don't know anything, isn't that right mon ange?" he whispers, low enough so that no sound system can pick up his words, it's only meant for you. you gulp, trying your best to make your moans seem fake. the bed's creaking beneath you, tears in your eyes with how good he's fucking you. you shake your head, words failing to come out because now you're arching your back, your nipples brushing against his chin and he smirks, taking the opportunity to lean closer and wrap his mouth around your areolas, flicking his tongue around as you're squirming underneath him.
"oh fuck!" you whisper, silently screaming to the side where the cameras cannot see you, "i cannot believe you..."
"meet me in my trailer after, i'll prove to you that i'm not just some stupid rookie with a pretty face," he nibbles at the shell of your ear, and you bite down onto his shoulder as you're cumming around his relentless cock. the poor set crew had a lot to clean up after this scene.
🎥 director!sebastian vettel
"no, no, no!" sebastian yelled out, rolling his eyes. you'd messed up the take for the 50th time. "schatz, what's going on? what's wrong with you?"
he hops off his chair and walks over to you with a frown on his face, "you usually get these in one take! are you not feeling well?" he places the back of his hand on your forehead, and you shrug your shoulders,
"just not feeling it today," and that makes his face harden. so in your trailer, he's sitting on a chair, your legs in the air as he contorts your body so that your face is against the ground, he lets the blood rush down to your pretty little head for a few seconds before pulling you back up onto his lap. clothes are long gone, he's mouthing the fat of your tits,
"i have a schedule, i have days to finish this film and if you're going to be a brat," he pauses, slapping your face gently so that you get the idea, "on your knees now. right now. you can't say your lines? make that fucking mouth useful then, du hure."
🎥retired scriptwriter!nico rosberg
"you keep coming back here, acting like i'm going to... oh fuck," nico groans out loud, watching you spread your legs out for him. you were always such a tease. even before he quit the industry, you always tried to coax him into a quickie before the ceremony would start. nico falls to his knees, crawling over to you on the bed. he grabs a pen and bites the cap off, spitting it to the distance before biting the insides of your thighs. you yelp in surprise, giggling as a hand comes to tangle in his hair and he glances up at you with hooded eyes and half a smile.
"i guess i could write a script for you," he murmurs, licking your clit rapidly as you buck your hips against his mouth. he wraps his lips around your puffy folds, tugging and sucking before writing all around your cunt and on your thighs. the feeling of the pen's tip alongside his tongue lapping up the gummy walls inside you makes you let out a wanton moan, body arching as you chase after your release. the pen dips further into your skin, the small dose of pain sending your mind into a dizzy mess he shoves the pen to the side and lets his fingers scissor inside your juicy cunt.
when you wake up the next morning with his cum leaking, you also finally see what he's written all over you: my pretty little dumb slut. you're already grabbing the pen to write all over his bare chest.
🎥 film critic!jenson button
"oh," jenson pouts mockingly as he sees you crying, "oh did my words hurt miss princess's feelings?" he grabs your jaw and tilts your head to look at him, "well too fucking bad. you want to insult my intelligence to the press? you want to see me replaced? darling, if it isn't me writing these film reviews, which other journalist's cock is going to have that cunt sinking down on them, hm?"
and before you can answer, his grip tightens, "if it isn't me, i will personally see to it that each review i write is worse than the one before, i have credibility sweetheart. you want to ruin my reputation? i can go one step further."
you knew fighting with him was pointless, but there was a bit of fun in it. up until now, it seems that he really was at his last straw with you. he throws you over his shoulder, shutting and locking the door to his office before throwing you onto his swivel chair. he rips your clothes off like a madman, a hand around your throat as he squeezes gently and soon his hard cock is sliding along your wet folds that yearn just for him to stretch you out. "i should take a photo of you right now and send it to the press. they'd love to see another dumb whore on the front pages."
"i...i'll have you photographed as well," you hiss, bucking your hips to see if his cock will finally slide inside you. he smacks his member a couple times against your cunt, loving the way you're begging for him to fill you up.
"go ahead, i have nothing left to lose. you do that, and there'll be permanent evidence of our affair. you don't do that, i'll still make sure there's evidence," and as you tilt your head in confusion, he lets out a laugh, "going to fill you up with my cum and see if a baby will put you in your place."
he fills you up in one thrust, watching the way your eyes widen as you moan out loud.
🎥 retired actor!fernando alonso
"what do you mean you no longer want to take acting lessons with me?" fernando roars, crossing his arms. his princess, his sweet girl was wanting to cut ties with him? seriously? he worked so hard to bring you to the actress that you are today, giving you all the skills and talent in the world! the reason you were so big now and praised for your performances was because of him! he helped you!
and now you wanted to leave him because some young actor named... what was it? charles? or was it max? or was it even daniel? who even knew anymore!?! but you were being wrapped around SOMEONE'S finger. no, no, this wouldn't do. your stubbornness had its limits, and he was for sure going to make you regret trying to leave him. he has you over his lap, smacking your ass as he makes you count.
every time you hiccupped and forgot to count through the tears, he makes you restart. by the time your ass is covered in his handprints and the tears are now loud sobs, he flips you over and lets you bury your face in his neck. "come on, mi princesa, you cannot leave me, after all i've done! i thought you liked our private lessons!"
"i do, i do! i'm sorry, no one treats me good as you do," you whine, kissing him. he caresses your cheek, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. he lets you show your forgiveness by letting him fuck you as much he wants for the night! you don't know how many times you've cummed, but the more he thrusts into you, the louder you wail. you feel like you're on heaven, his big hands groping your tits, slapping them as his hips snap faster and faster each time. you're screaming as you squirt all over his cock, laughing half-way through with how good you feel. you're unaware that as soon as he's done with you, he's going to pull a few strings to make sure his princess doesn't pull out another move like this again. he's your mentor after all, he's doing what's best for you!
got more ideas/requests/questions for my hollywood!au? send them in!
✶ you didn't make enough money for the night, and your pimp!f1 driver decides to take matters into his own hand...
✶ driver's involved: carlos sainz jr., lewis hamilton, max verstappen, oscar piastri
✶ warning(s): dubcon, p in v, slapping, fingering, cunnilingus, deepthroating/blowjob, slapping, brief threesome (reader not involved)
✶ author's note: the person who wrote this ask, i want you to know you have no idea what you just started 😭😭😭 this is a slightly dark fic so you have been warned!
"how much did you make?" you'd asked a girl in front of you. you were last in line, as you always were told to be. usually, it would excite you and you'd dangle the fruit in front of the other girls, boasting about how you were the favorite of the bunch and spoiled to the max. but this time was different. you stared at the pitiful stash of cash in your hands, eyes narrowing at the way the other girls in front of you seemed to carry a bulk with them, generously paid by whoever they had spent the night with.
"400." the girl in front of you beamed, before her eyes flickered down to your hands. you awkwardly hid your earnings behind your back, a sheepish smile on your face as she snorted, clearly loving the way the tables had turned against you. when the guttural "next!" echoed from the dark office, she let her eyes rake over your body before strutting off with what you could only deem as newfound confidence.
too bad for you, you were practically shaking in fear of having to face your pimp. these past few weeks had been a bit tough and you didn't know necessarily know why. it seemed that your usual spot wasn't being frequented as often considering the underground club had been raided by the police. you knew you should've moved elsewhere but the thought of abandoning a place that used to bring you such good luck irked your poor brain so you stuck it out.
you glanced down at the money in your hands, beginning to count, "5, 10... 20, 30, 35, 55..." you gulped, 55 dollars? was it really that bad for you? that was 20 less than what you even made last week! you sighed, debating if you should walk out at the moment and save yourself from the embarrassment but you knew better than that, he'd always find you, wouldn't he? not when the other girls would rat you out in a second just to snatch your title as his favorite. you turned your back to the door, taking a slow step away when the door creaked open and the girl from earlier stumbled out with a smile,
"he's waiting for you," she said in a way that made your blood boil, a teasing edge with a high pitched squeal that made nails on a chalkboard seem better than this. you sighed, nodding your head as you pushed past her slipping into the dark room, gently placing your earnings onto the table. it looked pitiful next to the stacks around and with the little courage you had left in you, you finally looked up to meet your pimp's eyes...
💋 lewis hamilton
"what the fuck is this?" pimp!lewis asked, leaning back in his chair. he gestured to the money on his table, before his hand came forward to drum against the wood.
"m-my earnings?" you meekly mumbled, awkwardly looking away. you hated the way he scoffed, as if you were pathetic.
"baby, what happened?" he sighed, curling his two fingers towards him as he beckoned you to come around the table. you shrugged, trying to hold back your tears. your feet padded against the cold tiles, bottom lip trembling with those wide eyes that always had any man weak to his knees. as you climbed onto his lap, he leaned forward and inhaled the scent of your hair, petting it softly, "what's wrong? you're usually the one that brings the most to the table, honey."
"i-i don't know!" you squeaked out, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "i... i swear i've been doing everything and it just... i can't leave that spot, you know the other girls won't let me join them."
he pinched the bridge of his nose, an exasperated sigh on his lips as he shook his head, "you've done this before, sweetheart, you just need to... well, here let me show you, yeah?"
he adjusted you onto his lap, your back pressed against his chest, and let his hands wander down to your thigh, tracing soft circles against the flesh. you whimpered, softly, trying to tell him that you weren't really in the mood at the moment considering you felt like a failure for not doing your job properly but he shushed you with his lips pressed against your ear, his fingers sliding up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to make you squirm uncomfortably against him.
"see baby, this is the problem isn't it?" lewis stressed, "you're too stubborn for your own good-"
"n-no, that's not it!" you cried out, trying to sit up but his free arm shot out and wrapped around your waist, pulling you back down,
"you know better than to do that," he hissed, his tone sharp and you slumped against him, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. his touch softened slightly, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, "listen, just listen to me, okay? you just need to listen and do as you're told. the other girls have told me all about your attitude problems when a guy you like tries to pick you up, sweetheart."
his fingers slipped under your panties, toying with your clit as you let out a soft gasp, stiffening above him. you could feel the way his lips smirked against your face as he continued, "stop thinking, stop resisting. look at you, you're a perfect little slut aren't you? you're my good girl, are you not?"
"i-i am," you whispered, your mouth falling open as his fingers continued to rub slow, hard circles on your sensitive nub.
"mhm, yes you are," he smiled, "and you know what good girls do? they do as they're told, shut that brain off for me, baby. when you're out there, you put aside that pride, you understand? this isn't about you, sweetheart, this is about the money."
he picked up his pace, his free hand lifting your shirt up to grope at your tits, pinching your nipple and the double stimulation had you throwing your head back, your first orgasm crashing through you. a strangled moan escaped you, and as you gasped for air and started to come down from the high, you could hear him unbuckling his belt, adjusting you so he could slip his throbbing cock into you.
"w-wait," you whined, "g-give me a break, please!"
"what did i just tell you?" lewis scoffed, "tsk, tsk, tsk, sweetheart you're not leaving until i know for sure you can get your brain dumb for any cock, now shut up and take it baby," he clamped his hand over your mouth, notching the tip of his cock into you as he fucked you relentlessly for hours, until he was sure you were just a dumb little slut.
💋 carlos sainz jr.
pimp!carlos was on the phone when you had walked in, his fingers toying with the telephone cord as he leaned back against his chair.
"no, no," he enunciated, "no, i don't want lando for tomorrow. the fuck you mean he's busy? that whore always knows when i want him and how i want him. tell him if he doesn't call me back by next week, i'll fuck his ass so hard, he won't be able to work for the next month. la puta audacia de él..."
carlos paused, a hand covering the microphone as he jerked his head to his table, "vamos, déjalo princesa."
you gulped, watching him turn back to the phone, no doubt planning one of his lavish yacht trips with his colleagues. you'd heard lando's name brought up occasionally at times, but you never dared ask who he was. you just knew that after charles, lando was his favorite. it was a tier list, it was you then charles and then lando. at least charles worked for carlos, all you could remember was that lando had somehow gotten lucky and went off to suck off some other pimp's dick and became much more popular among the elites. you shook your head, not wanting to think too much about it and meekly placed the money onto the table.
carlos' eyes flickered to the money and his jaw dropped for a second, and then he slowly looked up at you in disbelief. his hand tightened around the handset of his telephone and he let out a low growl, "call me back."
he hung up abruptly and spun around in his chair to face you with a large scowl, "the fuck is this, puta?" he grabbed at the money, counting them before recounting them, almost as if he thought he was dreaming. 55 dollars, seriously? he glared at you, storming around the table as he grabbed the back of your neck, bringing you closer,
"is this a charity, mi zorra?" he spat, "the fuck do i do with this money? you know what the other girls bring, don't you?"
"i do, i do!" you squeaked out, tears filling up your eyes, "b-but it's been so hard i don't-"
"hard? you know what's hard?" he barked, "hard is having my bitch fuck other men and be fucking worthless in the end. you're wasting my time, my money, like... do you not see what i'm seeing?"
he pointed at the money, shaking your head roughly by the hair as you whimpered. "cut the water works," he snapped, dragging you around the table. he sat down, tossing you over his lap.
"you're doing this one purpose, i swear, siempre poniéndome de los putos nervios," he fumed, shaking his head. he hiked your skirt up to your waist, roughly kneading your ass before he landed a hard blow to the flesh, watching it jiggle and redden under his touch. you let out a pained gasp, trying to wriggle away and explain to him, but he paid no mind. again and again, he made you count it all out and everytime you missed a number or cried a little too loud, he'd start right back over. he was a furious man, you should've known better than to piss him off like this.
he has you cockwarming him when he's done with you, ignoring your pained whimpered every time your ass pressed down too hard against his body. your cunt's all leaky and wet, squelching at the slightest movement that makes you moan softly. he's on the phone again, desperately trying to speak to lando who was too busy sucking off mr. brown. of course brown had his own policies and every time the old man would start yapping, carlos would clamp a hand over your mouth and start roughly thrusting into you, ignoring your little wails. it wasn't until brown asked what that noise was did carlos let you moan and whine out loud, your noises flooding into the telephone.
"give me lando and..." carlos paused, watching you bounce on his cock despite the way your red, sore ass seemed to be screaming in agony. he hated having to share you, you were his little bitch not some other man's but he figured if he could get you making more money now, he wouldn't have to worry about you later, "and i'll hand her over to you for a night. 500 dollars?"
"300," brown scoffed on the other end, "i'm not payin' that much for a slut i don't even know."
"400 for you and your friends," carlos hissed and when he finally heard the word 'deal' he sighed in relief and hung up before wrapping his arms around your waist, thrusting up to match your bounces. you arched your back, moaning wantonly as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder,
"una chica tan buena, and as soon as you get back, i'll remind you again...and again..." he emphasized his words with harsher thrusts, "who you really belong to, princesa."
💋 max verstappen
pimp!max verstappen snickered as soon as you had walked into the door, he'd heard from the girl before you that you weren't really bringing much in the first place but damn, he hadn't expected that low from you. he took note of the way you were standing before him, nervously fidgeting with your hands, a worried expression on your face.
"how much?" he asked, taking a sip from his glass of gin tonic.
"55," you whimpered, watching his eyes dart to you immediately. he snorted, nearly choking on his drink as he shook his head, laughing darkly. the sound grated your already fried nerves, and you already knew what was about to happen.
"here, do me a favor," max began, throwing your own money back at your face, "take this shit and get the fuck out of my face, you dumb bitch. i gave you one job, yeah? one fucking job and it's too much to ask from you, isn't it?"
you panicked, shaking your head, "no, please! i've been trying my best, please!" you walked around the table, getting on your knees like you'd done for him a countless times, muscle memory. "please, i'll give you the money you want next week, i promise!"
"next week?" max sneered, "there is no next week for you, you worthless cunt. do you even know how much the other girls bring? you're staining my empire, you hear me? you're ruining my fucking reputation, get up and get out."
"maxie, please!" you pleaded, and a sharp crack echoed in the room as his hand connected with your face.
"don't fucking call me that," he hissed, grabbing you by your hair as he shoved your face onto his crotch, "you have no fucking right to call me that. you think i'm gonna be cooing over you, calling you schatje and other sweet names when you haven't been doin' shit?"
he could feel the way your legs wrapped around his feet, slowly grinding your hips against the tip of his shoes as tears streamed down your face. even at a time like this, you knew how to please him. you were a slut, through and through - his slut. "you want to stay?"
you nodded your head, your tears coating his pants and he grabbed hold of your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his eyes, "then prove it. show me that you're actually good for something."
that was all you needed, your hands flying to unbuckle his belt, pulling down the zipper of his pants with your teeth. he couldn't help but chuckle, running his hand through your hair. he was only this hard on you because he knew how good you were, you were just lazy and stubborn some times, just needed a good kick to your rear to get you back in line. his cock sprang out, eagerly calling out to you as it glistened in the dimly lit room with beads of his pre-cum rolling down his tip. your tongue glided over his shaft, eyes focused on him just like he taught you and soon you shoved his length down your throat, gagging slightly. it had been a while since you had given a blow job to a client, since all the ones you'd fucked in recent times only wanted your pussy before leaving. you were being gentle, trying to familiarize yourself with max's girth but the man had very limited patience. he watched you bob your head at an agonizingly slow place, lips wrapped around the tip before you sank back down and then ran them right back up his shaft.
he nearly felt himself softening.
so, considering that he was doing you a favor, he grabbed the back of your head and forcefully shoved you down, your nose touching his pubic bone as you gagged and cried. your hands splayed against his knees, trying to pull up but he held you in place, bucking his hips up at a maddening pace,
"you're too fucking slow," he grumbled, "but it's okay, schatje, you'll learn. you always learn, don't you?"
he fucked your face with wild abandon, ignoring your desperate whines and sobs. he grabbed your hair and yanked your head back slightly to see the mascara streaming down your face, your lipstick smudged as he laughed between a groan of pleasure.
"fuck, look at you," he bit his lip, continuing to thrust into your throat deeper and deeper each time, "you're gonna take my cum down your throat, yeah? swallow every drop, schatje, don't you dare waste any of it."
he bucked his hips against your face a few more times before cumming down your throat, shooting ropes of his seed into your mouth with a soft, low groan. as he took in deep breaths, he held you firmly with both of his hands. your throat seemed to constrict around his length, some of his cum dribbling down your chin before he finally released you from his hold. you coughed and gagged, but you still licked your lips and swiped some of his cum off your face to lick it off. he smirked, before shoving you away as you sprawled out on the floor.
"one week," he exclaimed, raising a finger up, "one week, you make above 200 dollars and i won't kick you out. now go on, get back to work. you don't get a break after bringing in 55 fucking dollars, schatje. go on."
you stumbled out of the room with a dizzy head, the taste of his cum still staining your tongue.
💋 oscar piastri
one look from pimp!oscar was enough to make your knees buckle - out of fear, out of love depended on the scenario itself. today was the first option, and you could tell as soon as you placed the money on the table that he wasn't in a good mood. he blinked a few times, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he fought to rein in his temper. he didn't even have to say a word for you to be crawling up to him, hands folded together as you whined out loud,
"i'm so sorry, im sorry! i'll do anything to make it up, i really will!" you grabbed hold of his arm but he shrugged you off, as if you touching him burned his skin. he snorted, rolling his eyes as he looked away from you.
"sorry," he repeated, a sarcastic smile growing on his face as he rolled his eyes, "huh.. sorry...?"
you gulped, knowing that if he wasn't even looking at you that you most likely buried your own grave. you were his favorite, even if he didn't say anything, he'd always let you on his lap and he'd pepper kisses all over your face. that was the pimp!oscar you loved, the one sitting before you now was the one that you hated but you knew this side the best, because knowing him beneath his mask of indifference was what had you in his good graces all this time. you watched as he poured himself a glass of whiskey, the only sound in the room being your ragged breathing and the clinking of glass with sloshing liquid. he took a sip, sighing loudly before calling out for one of the other girls and as if on cue, three girls emerged into his office with wicked smiles on their faces. you knew them, you hated their souls so much after the way they always seemed to be so jealous of oscar always choosing you.
i guess this was their revenge.
you found yourself tied up with ribbons, gagged with your own panties as he forced you to watch him undress, his eyes only fixed on the other prostitutes that seemed to be basking in the moment. he had his fingers pumping inside one girl, his tongue swirling on another's clit. you cried out loud against the binds, whining as you wanted desperately to be a part of this sinful act. it felt weird not to be next to him, enjoying his attention and praise. this was however your punishment. your eyes remained transfixed, watching the way his thick cock stretched out one of the girls' cunt, his veins bumping against her gummy walls as she threw her head back, nearly screaming at how good he felt. his lips latched onto a nipple, sucking harshly before flicking the peak around with his tongue, his thumb running down to circle her clit.
you watched orgasm after orgasm explode in front of you, your own pussy dripping wet and craving for attention. it was unfair, you wanted to scream and lash out but you knew you deserved this after bringing in that stupid sum of money. these girls had earned their moment with him, no doubt bringing in the highest amount of money after their work. you whined out loud, hips bucking up against the chair you were strapped on. oscar took a small break finally, drinking his glass of whiskey as he approached you, wiping away your tears with a swipe of his thumb. his hand danced down your body, smirking at the way you arched into his touch, desperate for your own pleasure. he cupped your heat, fingers pushing along your folds as he spat out,
"of course, you're fucking wet, you pathetic cunt."
he harshly slapped your clit, your cries music to his ears before he pulled away, returning back to the girls as you sobbed and writhed against the ribbon binds, whining and begging through muffled screams at how you'd do better next time.
but oscar never liked empty words, not until they were fulfilled with meaningful actions. and poor you, you'd have to wait until tomorrow morning before you could start proving yourself to him.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you never got along with carlos and his friends, especially as carlos' pr manager, but when they invited you for a round of uno, surely their intentions were pure right?
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, slapping, p in v, anal, fingering, oral (m receiving), double penetration, heavy degradation, threesome, voyeurism (not reader), roughfucking, overstimulation, carlos is really really mean lol
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: carlos sainz x reader; gigi x reader; teto x reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.1k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: special shout out to 🎭 anon who gave me this idea literally months ago but i finally got time to writing it! this was one of the longest fics i've ever written! any mistakes are mine, first time really writing for gigi and teto so if it's bad im so sorry 😭
carlos had been on edge for much of the race weekend in bahrain. aside from the obvious that he was being booted out of ferrari - nonetheless, a team he had always dreamed about being in when he was little - the first free practice session wasn't the best.
practice sessions weren't always representative of how the race would turn out, but it sure didn't help when he got out of the car after finishing 11th to see his press officer standing by the side in the garage with this know-it-all look on her face. it seemed almost every weekend you were determined to let him know that his time in red was coming to an end, even if the season had just started.
he remembered when he first met you, his hand outstretched with a big grin on his face. he had introduced himself when he was doing pre-season testing with this hopeful gleam in his eyes that ferrari would be his new home. he retreated his hand instantaneously when you shot him down with a snort, reminding him that he was just vettel's replacement and one day he'd get replaced too.
"she's just a big fan of seb," charles smiled, trying to console his new teammate. but it wasn't enough for carlos, not when he had to work with you more often than he liked. with ferrari, they had a carefully articulated persona designated for each driver. he couldn't be as free as he used to be at mclaren, not with all the cameras surrounding him like vultures after each race with the intention of weeding out one of his flaws. perhaps he was destined for greatness in the team, but all he ever saw was that look of utter disdain in your eyes after each race. no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that he was used to it, he couldn't help but seethe when you'd pass a sly remark at him over something he must've said on the radio in the heat of the moment.
"stop making my job fucking harder," you hissed into his ear after a disaster of a race one day. he could see it in the way your eyes burned into him that your loyalties lied with charles - hell, you kept reminding him every day after the 2022 silverstone gp that you wanted to be his press officer, not carlos'. "don't say anything out of line, and don't you dare say anything about charles."
"it's about the team," carlos snapped, biting down on the straw to his drink, "i talk about the team, i don't give a fuck about charles right now."
"you say that but you can't keep his name out of your mouth sometimes," you glanced down at your phone, reading through some of the tweets online that were being written after the race. you snorted at some of posts that were coming to carlos' defense. he fucking dnf'd and all of a sudden he was being hailed as a saint. "it's your second year with the team, let's try to not get ahead of ourselves yeah? you win once and all of a sudden you think you're a god."
"and i dnf once and all of a sudden you think i'm incompetent." he flipped his cap on backwards, his chest heaving more in anger than out of the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. "if the team makes shit calls and can't make a functioning car, how is that my fault?"
"i'm hearing excuses when i need you to spit out what i've written for you," you exclaimed, shoving your phone into his hands. he inhaled, sharply and watched you storm off towards the direction of charles' press officer on a quick debrief for the post-race interviews. he mumbled under his breath about what a bitch you were and glanced down at the screenshots you had taken on what was recommended for him to say. he leaned against the wall behind him, waiting for any one of the drivers in front of him to finish when his thumb accidentally swiped down on the photo and he dropped the device onto the ground.
"joder," carlos crouched down to grab your phone, trying to scroll through your photos to get back to the screenshot when he stumbled upon something that didn't quite match up to the persona he had of you in his mind. increasing the brightness on your phone, he let his thumb swipe through some selfies that you might've forgotten to delete. there were various poses in front of mirrors or taken from above, your tits on full display with your tongue out. others were pictures of your glistening pussy, caught in the moment of your cunt clamping down on your fingers. he couldn't deny the way his race suit seemed to tighten around his crotch as he discovered these gems, nor could he hide the wicked grin that formed on his face.
"esa pequeña zorra..." he whispered under his breath, biting the inside of his cheek as he imagined you on your knees, your cheeks hollowed out as he'd shove his thick length down your throat. maybe that would get you to shut up for once and stop picking at him over the tiniest of things. he'd heard charles call his name just in time for him to start his interviews and the spaniard marched forward towards a reporter, his hands wrapped around the railing for support. by this time, you had wandered back to him with that infamous grim look you always shot him right before he was to speak and carlos could barely hold back from bending you over the railing and eating your ass in front of the hundred people clamoring in the press pen. he knew he'd have to wait for the perfect opportunity, so he had told his trainer gigi days later after his discovery in the middle of some hip-thrusts.
"is this some joke?" gigi scoffed, standing before carlos as he looked down at the ferrari driver. "really? she never... seemed the type for that."
carlos sat up, arms folded over his knee as he paused for a moment to catch his breath, "i didn't think so either but... it was there. my own eyes, cabrón. she's got a pretty pussy, you know?"
gigi rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a dry laugh, "you want to fuck her? che cosa, you can't be serious! i would've thought with the way she treats you that you'd never even talk to her ever again!"
carlos fell onto his back, adjusting his posture as he resumed his sit-ups. he remained silent for a good portion, letting gigi's words sink into his brain. he was right, you weren't someone he'd ever want to be around at all. he hated you more than he'd like to admit, but that didn't mean he'd let his anger go unanswered. every day it felt like he was fighting with you more than the damn car.
carlos sat up once more, the burn in his core disappearing against the darkness clouding his eyes, "with the way she treats me, i want nothing more than to fuck some respect into her tight cunt. she thinks she can treat me like i'm a piece of shit? if i get my hands on her, i won't let her go, not even when she's sobbing on my dick, begging for mercy. maybe i'll knock her up, get that bitch pregnant and see who she's dealing with..."
gigi sat down besides carlos, propping himself on his elbows with his lips pursed together as if deep in thought. he knew he should have the moral high ground and tell carlos to stop, especially since he knew you longer than he knew carlos. but the thought of you being put in your place, putting an end to your charade as some big shot sent a dark thrill through his body. he bit his lip, a chuckle escaping his lips before he turned to carlos, "what you ask, i'll deliver. give me a few months, i'm sure i can work something out."
gigi's job became a thousand times easier when he saw carlos' best friend, roberto, walking around the paddock with his phone in his hand. the spaniard had his brief stint in formula 1, but never failed to show up for his friend, always with his phone in hand and cracking jokes that only made the passersby that sighed in exasperation and rolled their eyes, giving him a brief smirk and walking away.
"teto!" gigi cried out, cupping his hands over his mouth, "c'mere, i have something to tell you!"
teto's head whipped around at the source of the sound, his lips breaking out into a massive grin as he walked over, arms all wide open to embrace his friend before the man bumped into someone that he hadn't expected to meet: you. you had dropped your coffee onto the ground, jaw clenched tight with a hateful look in your eyes.
"you moron!" you snapped, "can't you watch where you're going? you made me drop my fucking coffee!" you looked up to face teto's startled expression. he wasn't expecting to get yelled at in the paddock, especially not in front of everyone. "oh, you're one of his friends aren't you? i should've figured you all were idiots like him."
"woah, easy now," gigi stepped forward, "you don't get to talk to guests of the paddock like that (y/n). you're upset, i get it, go take a walk or something."
"a walk?" you growled, "like i'm a child? you're lucky you even have a job here gigi, if i had it my way i'd-"
"you'd what?" teto snapped, getting defensive for his friend. his hair fell forward, brushing against his narrowed eyes. his fist clenched his coffee cup tightly, as if he was seconds away from crushing it.
"i'd have him replaced," you bitterly snapped, before pointing at teto, "and i'd have you banned from setting foot onto the paddock. you asshole, you posted those pictures with carlos on his birthday last year, all of you drunk and saying awful things, remember that? well, i fucking remember because i had to clean that damn mess up." you took in a deep breath, head snapping to the side to avoid looking at those rats, "ferrari drivers have class, they have elegance, they have dignity - all of which you and that stupid buffoon sorely lack in. cannot wait for him to leave to williams, forgotten and ignored for the rest of his career."
with that, you stormed away and left the two of the men behind, ignoring the way they were ready to murder you in the spot. teto clenched his jaw, jerking his head towards your retreating form when he turned back to face gigi, "what a cunt, and you're telling me carlos dealt with her for 4 years? ese pobre hombre…"
"she said what?" carlos took off his balaclava after another devastating dnf, he had turned to look at teto and gigi in the ferrari garage, brows knitted tightly together, "so you're bitching about it to me, instead of putting her in her place?"
carlos had grown weary of your constant belittlement, and as he tapped his foot impatiently he couldn't just stand by and let you walk over him and his friends any longer, you needed to learn your lesson, a very harsh one as well. he nearly threw his helmet onto the ground if it wasn't for gigi creeping up behind him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. it was raining in brazil, a thunderous storm that reflected the war raging in carlos' head.
"woah, woah, non avere fretta carlos," gigi whispered, "you need to calm down. there is no point in starting a fight in the garage, she's only a couple feet away."
all three men turned their head to find you wearing the red headset, staring intently at the screen to see how the race would play out. your fingers twirled around the wire, eyes focused on watching charles and max battle it out on track, only adding fuel to the evergrowing fire.
"she's coming with us to vegas, no?" carlos asked, ruffling his curls, "i'll deal with her then."
carlos was not a patient man, not when it came to you. that break between brazil and vegas taught him a lot of things; one, he had to do better in the upcoming races, these were his final weeks with ferrari, he needed to perform well. two, because it was the final weeks, he wouldn't leave you without giving you a parting gift, something that he was sure you'd never be able to forget. not only had you insulted his friends, but after that dnf in brazil, you had the audacity to criticize him in the press pen. it was a conversation that still made him seethe, his thumb pressing against the pencil he was holding, snapping it into two.
"i should've told ferrari to just not let you race at all," you had whispered to him, a biting remark as he waited for his turn to be interviewed. "you can't even drive in wet weather."
"a lot of other cars dnf'd as well," carlos murmured, running a hand over his exhausted face.
"not charles."
"mention his name one more time, puta," he hissed, pointing a finger at you. "and i won't be responsible for what becomes of you, you'll have more than just a bad day at pr to deal with."
this was the first time carlos had ever talked back to you with such intense hatred that you couldn't help but pause in horror at his threat. you blinked a few times, trying to come back to your senses but before you could retort, he had walked away towards the media, spitting out exactly what he had rehearsed in his head just seconds before you approached him. it was unlike him to do something like this and you wondered if it had to do with the fact that he was leaving the team, maybe he was unwinding, taking risks that he wouldn't have dared to do when he first joined ferrari. either way, your blood boiled at the audacity of his words, making a mental note to yourself to deal with the aftermath later. carlos glanced back over his shoulder to look at you, taking note of your startled posture and he couldn't help but smirk to himself. a tiny win, according to him, something that he intended to abuse far into the future.
the flight to las vegas was delayed because of rain, forcing you to find a place to stay for the night. you weren't going to just sleep in the airport, you weren't that desperate but when you approached the front desk and they told you there was no rooms available, you nearly wished you had stayed back.
"are you sure?" you asked, shaking your head, "all the rooms are filled? could you check once more? listen, it's raining outside and i really don't want to go through the hassle to find another airport in this storm."
the receptionist shook his head with a sympathetic look, "i'm terribly sorry, ma'am, but there really isn't any more room available."
you groaned, a small squeak of a whine tumbling from your lips as you looked around the lobby. as if catching your intentions, the receptionist cleared his throat before adding, "we don't usually allow people to sleep in the lobby, that's against our rules."
"i'm not that stupid," you snapped, earning yourself a frown from the man, "i figured you wouldn't do such a thing."
carlos watched from afar, a grin on his face as you stumbled through your words and begged for any chance at a room. you were exactly where he needed you to be, and he intended on using this moment to his advantage. with a low whistle, he approached where you stood and gave an appreciative nod to the receptionist as he turned to face you,
"no room to stay, hermosa?" he softened his voice, big eyes widening slightly. if it wasn't for your troubled state, you would've picked up on his bullshit instantly.
"yeah, and i don't know what to do, i have nowhere else to go!" you cried out, shaking your head. carlos bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from smirking,
"hey, i have two beds in my room, why don't you come up? i'll let you stay over, no problems." he suggested.
"oh… in your room?" you asked, the years of hatred rising up at the very thought of sharing a hotel room with this man. you shrugged, "i don't know… i mean, we don't necessarily get along-"
"my room or the streets, princessa," carlos snapped, a flicker of anger in his eyes. he cleared his throat, schooling his features as he continued, "like i said, two beds. you won't have to worry about a single thing, i promise."
weighing out your options, you knew you had no other choice and with a dejected sigh, you nodded your head, "fine, i guess i'll stay with you, thank you carlos."
"ah, thank you," carlos laughed, "that's a first from you," and he took your suitcase from your hand, guiding you to the elevator. the atmosphere seemed different this time, and you believed - wholeheartedly - that maybe he was actually being nice to you for once. his head faced the elevator doors, nodding his head to some imaginary song. in the confined space, you caught yourself admiring his side-profile. he was an asshole, but at least he was handsome, you couldn't deny that. when he led you to his room and pushed the door open, you frowned at the sight teto and gigi on the table, sorting through some cards together. the door behind you clicked shut, but you were too busy to realize the finality of the moment.
"what are these two doing here?" you asked in disgust which caused teto to laugh,
"don't worry, we were gonna play a game of uno with carlos before we left. our room is just down the hall anyway," he seemed cheerful, more cheerful than he'd ever been in your presence. gigi nodded his head, grinning as the two of them rambled like teenagers, writing something down on the cards. you sat down on the edge of the bed closest to the wall, kicking your shoes off. as you laid back down against the pillow, you stretched your arms with a low groan, oblivious to the way the three men gave each other a look.
"hey (y/n)," gigi began, grabbing the cards from teto and shuffling them, "want to join us when we play uno?"
"play with you guys?" you scoffed, "i don't associate with degenerates like you three."
gigi's eyes flashed with darkness for a brief second, opening his mouth to spit something back if it wasn't for carlos squeezing his shoulder, signaling him to calm down. they were so close, they couldn't ruin this, not when it hadn't even started.
"don't be like that, (y/n)," teto smiled, "just one game of uno! it's raining outside, anyway, it's boring, we're all tired. a game won't hurt, you can loosen yourself up, relax! right, carlos?"
"indeed, indeed," the spanish driver nodded his head, "come on, hermosa, we don't want to end this year off with bad terms, right? not when i'm going to leave the tea-"
"i wish you'd done it sooner," you bemoaned and carlos rolled his eyes, his patience on thin ice the more you opened your mouth. oh, how he would've loved to grab you by your hair and shove his cock into your mouth; the only sounds he needed to hear from you was you gagging on his dick. with great effort, he forced a smile and held up his forefinger,
"one game. that's all i ask, just one."
teto had grabbed the table and placed it in the space between the two beds, all three gentleman moving to sit near you. gigi sat right next to you while teto and carlos sat across from you. you reluctantly agreed to play, realizing that their constant begging would lead you nowhere.
"fine, just one game," you rolled your eyes, "and then we can get this game over with. what's the rules? stacking or no stacking?"
carlos' eyes flickered to gigi, a wicked grin forming on his lips before his gaze traveled to you, "this game, is going to be a little bit different, mi vida. ever heard of strip poker?"
your face fell into a nasty scowl at his words, "why are we playing strip poker?"
"strip uno," teto corrected you with a wink, and that only deepened your scowl,
"doesn't matter what it's called, why are we playing that?" your eyes snapped to carlos, "i'm so confused right now."
"i think someone thinks she's gonna lose," gigi exclaimed in a sing-song voice, and you slammed your fist onto the table,
"i don't lose."
"then play the game," carlos whispered, his eyes zeroing in on you. it was a challenge, and god help you, you never backed down from a challenge.
as teto began to shuffle the deck once more, you could feel the weight of carlos' gaze. they were heavy, a burden on your shoulders as the seconds passed. it felt like he was undressing you before the game even started, a testament to the many months he led in silent frustration. after every race this year, every time he bickered with you, he had gone to his room and closed his eyes, remembering those obscene photos on your phone as he fisted his cock, cumming around his hands and imagining it was your pretty little cunt. ugh, the amount of days he had been waiting for this moment and now it was all about to come to life.
teto finished passing 7 cards to each player, taking the top card and flipping it over, before he pointed at you, "you can start."
"isn't it supposed to be the person left of the d-"
"stai zitta!" gigi threw his hands in the air, making sure to not show his cards in the process, "just start the game!"
you winced at his words, shaking your head as you glanced at the open card - a green 7. you glanced back down at your deck, finding no 7s, but you sure did find a lot of green cards. this was perfect, you could totally win this game and head to bed earlier than the rest of them. you plucked out a green 1 and placed it on the table, turning your head to gigi who placed a yellow 1. fuck, the color changed. that's okay, you could always put down the number. teto put down a yellow 0 and then carlos followed suit, placing a yellow skip.
"skip, already?" you cried out. carlos shrugged his shoulders,
"that's the only yellow i had."
gigi smirked, putting down a yellow 3 and your shoulders fell. how many fucking yellows did these guys have, and why did you have so many green on your deck? was the deck even shuffled properly? your eyes darted to carlos, peering your head slightly to see his deck but he caught on much faster than you expected,
"nuh uh," he shook his head, "no cheating, or instant disqualification."
"or dnf," teto snickered, earning a smack to his head from carlos, "yikes, sorry," and then he placed down another yellow card. by this point of the game, your chances of winning seemed to only get slimmer. the three of them kept using their reverse cards and skips against you, and by the end of the game after tallying up points, you were the sore loser. you gulped, noticing the way they all seemed to stare at you intently, no doubt waiting for you to fulfill your part of the game. your fingers fumbled with the belt of your jeans, slipping them off with great effort. you lifted your hips off the bed and with the rustling of fabric, carlos' moan went unnoticed. with the jeans out of the way, you tugged the ends of your shirt over your knees as much as you could, nodding your head. you couldn't lose like this, the others had to lose their clothes too and so despite your best interests, you tapped the table,
"alright, again. one more round."
teto's eyebrows went up, a disbelieving laugh coming from him, "you want to play again? i thought you said only one round."
"well…" you began, trying to brush around the subject of humiliation and being a sore loser, "i don't know, just feel interested that's all."
teto's elbow nudged carlos, a triumphant grin on his face as he nodded his head, "alright, alright. another round."
as the hour passed by, the four of you found yourselves with an uneven number of wins. gigi had only lost his pants, his hairy, meaty thighs on display as he clung to his stack of cards. teto had lost his shirt, and as he ran his hand through his hair he glanced at carlos who still had all his clothes on him. you, on the other hand, only remained in your panties, hands awkwardly crossed across your tits as your face burned in humiliation.
"getting cold?" gigi snickered, his finger trailing down your arm and you yanked yourself out of his grasps with a scowl,
"i can't believe i'm losing this badly, i'm usually really good at this game!" you hissed, unaware that the three men had rigged it from the start. you were never going to win, and that was the plain fact. carlos grabbed his backpack, pulling out an extra deck of cards and waved it at your face,
"here, maybe this can help you," he handed the cards to teto, "shuffle them for me, please. we need to let miss (y/n) win at least once."
the game commenced once more, all four of you silent and focused on trying to outdo each other. you were actually losing cards a lot more faster, giving you a sense of confidence that you lost an hour ago and carlos saw the grin on your face. after teto placed down his card, carlos grabbed the one black card from his stack and placed it onto the open table. it was one of those cards where the players wrote in their own task and you leaned forward to read it:
"ride the next player's thigh for 5 minutes."
your face fell, staring at carlos with a look of bewilderment, "w-what? who wrote that?"
carlos shrugged, "it's in the deck, i say we utilize it."
"this is… this is a joke," you laughed, nervously, shaking your head, "i'm not doing that, what the fuck? it was already bad with the stripping our clothes off but-"
"but you have no other choice, hermosa," teto smiled, tapping the black card, "it's either you do this, or we kick you out of this room, just like this in your panties with nowhere else to go but the streets." he glanced at carlos for support and the driver nodded his head,
"now be a good girl, chica, do what the card asks," and he pointed to gigi, who had already took his shirt off without asking, patting his thigh invitingly. when you hesitated, staring at the three of them like they were strangers, gigi had grabbed the waistband of your panties and ripped it off, ignoring your startled cries as he manhandled you onto his thigh, your tits pressed up against his chest. his arm wrapped aroudn your waist, holding you in place as you struggled, still trying to come to terms with how the game had shifted. Your pussy lips parted against his firm thigh, your wetness dripping against his flesh as he used his freehand to guide your hips, gyrating them slowly.
"oh fuck," gigi growled, "your pussy is so warm and fucking wet," moving his thigh against your cunt, the hair on him, coarse and unrefined, brushing against your clit in a way that made you gasp and shudder. his thigh is so thick, it forces your folds apart wider, your poor throbbing clit being exposed to the rough texture. he leaned down, watching the sensitive nub peek out from its hood, causing his hands to grab your hips and move you a little bit more faster, bouncing his leg so that his thigh dug deeper against your aching sex. a low moan ripped from your lips, your breathing becoming ragged. he leaned his face close, blowing air on your hardening nipples and just before he was about to suck on one, carlos cleared his throat,
"5 minutes are up."
you gasped when he lifted you off his thigh, your arousal creating a sticky string to connect the two flesh before setting you back onto the bed. you stared at carlos and teto, your chest heaving as they smirked at your flustered state. you couldn't understand how they returned to the game as if nothing had just happened. carlos smacked down an extra four cards onto your stack, muttering how silly you were to forget before it teto's turn and the cards began to go around once more before gigi placed down another black card.
"suck off the player opposite of you until they cum."
"that's me," teto grinned, beckoning you with his finger, "come on princessa, we can get this over with fast if you cooperate."
"i don't… i don't know-" your words were cut off by the spaniard roughly grabbing your hair, shoving you onto your knees. teto grabbed out his massive length, slapping the head of his cock against your lips as a sign for you to open up. your eyes flickered to carlos before you felt gigi's hand slap against your cheek from behind you,
"don't look at him, look at teto, puttana," he grabbed your hair and shook your head, forcing you to look up at teto, "he's the one you're servicing with that filthy mouth of yours."
"shh, shh, don't be mean to her," teto softly exclaimed, waving gigi's hand away, "she's a good girl, she knows what she has to do. isn't that right, hermosa? you're a good girl, aren't you, you can suck my cock, you're a good little cock-slut aren't you?"
his veiny cock slapped against your lips once more, before carlos leaned forward and pried your mouth open with his fingers, letting teto slip inside your throat. his pre-cum coated your tongue, the musky scent of his arousal flooding your nose as he guided his length deeper down your throat, watching the way you struggled to accomodate him into your tight throat.
"mmm, that's it, baby. take it deep like a good girl," teto cooed in a sickly sweet voice, even as he forced your head down, pushing his cock deeper into your throat. you gagged, tears springing to your eyes as you felt him hitting the back of your throat. but you couldn't stop, not with the way he was holding your head.
"oh, you're just the sweetest little thing," teo sighed, petting your hair like you were a dog. "i bet you just love the taste of dick, don't you, princessa?"
you couldn't respond when he started to thrust into your mouth at a faster pace, your throat clenching around his huge cock. your drool seeped out of the corners of your obscenely stretched lips, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and carlos watched the way it dripped down onto your bare heaving tits as teto ruthlessly fucked your mouth. you could feel him twitch, close to his climax before he shoved your face completely against his body, giving you no room to breathe as he shot ropes of his cum down your throat.
"fuck!" teto cried out, "qué boca tan perfecta!" and he pulled back to watch his seed dribble down your chin, leaving you dazed as you coughed up the rest of his cum, eyes all red and teary. there was no way you could continue the game like this, but gigi grabbed your arm and shoved you back onto the bed, giving you your stack of cards as you inhaled sharply, teto's cum still marking your lips. gigi had snuck a peek of your cards when he had handed it to you, and he glanced at carlos before mouthing what you had left, a sign for all three men that it was only about to get worse for you.
gigi had placed a red reverse card, allowing you to play next isntead of teto but you were too far gone that you couldn't read the numbers in your hands, swallowing thickly. he chuckled, leaning closer as he pressed a kiss to your temple, his moustache bristling against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise.
"oh, bella, you tired? come on now, you can't give up already, the fun hasn't even started!" he looked down at your cards, his beefy arms encircling your waist as he held your hands, guiding you to place down another red card, "see, it's that simple. here, i'll help you for the rest of the game, don't worry."
as he rested his against your shoulder, you felt his lips trail down your neck, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses that were sure to bruise your sensitive skin. you whined, trying to get up when his arm wrapped around your neck, his bicep digging painfully as he spat in your ear, "don't. fucking. move. you stay here and finish the game like a true player, you represent ferrari, no? then you stay and win, it's about class, it's about elegancy, it's about dignity…"
teto placed another reverse card, which let carlos to place down another black card that had tears streaming down your face. you were too tired for this, you didn't want to play this game any longer. carlos rubbed his hands as he smiled at you, head jerking to the card on the table which read "player to the left of you will lick your boot."
"it's not that bad, hermosa, just a lick," carlos grinned, moving the table slightly so that you could bend down and do the task. you shook your head, having second thoughts about the whole scenario but carlos' smile dropped, grabbing your cum-stained chin roughly, "i said lick my fucking boot, puta. now."
you gulped, feeling the back of your head being forced down onto his foot and reluctantly, you let your tongue run along the top of his shoe, cringing at how humiliating this was but as soon as you thought that the worst was over, you felt a presence behind you loom menacingly. you couldn't turn your head back because carlos still held onto you but you could hear the spaniard's dark voice echo from above,
"loser has to pay big time, hermosa," he explained, "and you were going to lose this round anyway just like you lost the ones before. wasting our time like that, tsk tsk tsk… it's time you learnt a lesson."
the tip of gigi's cock was pushed inside your unsuspecting cunt, earning a startled cry from you, you looked up at carlos, your eyes wide in shock and a hint of betrayal as gigi gripped your hips, fucking you with wild abandon. you could feel him brush against your cervix repeatedly, unrelenting in his pace, as if he had been waiting all this time just to fuck you like you were nothing more than a fleshlight for him. he shoved your head back down onto carlos' boot, the sound of his hips snapping against your cunt drowned out by your loud, almost pitiful, moans. you were being used like a ragdoll at the moment, your body shaking as you orgasmed much quicker than you normally would've collapsing onto the floor with a groan. gigi smacked your ass roughly, enjoying the red handprint forming your skin as he shook his head,
"a fucking bitch, can't wait to leave her behind when the new season starts."
a new round of the game started once more, the rules now shifted thanks to carlos, whoever the loser was would be fucked by the winner. it was simple, they were playing the normal game of uno, no more funny cards, everything was designed to make sure you could win at least once, but you weren't winning, no matter how hard you tried which was how you found yourself on top of teto, his cock plunging your cunt while gigi filled up your ass from behind. teto had reached up, slapping your face to keep you conscious, gripping your chin.
"eyes on me, mi pequeña zorra," he exclaimed through gritted teeth, fucking you with great effort. you were being filled by their cum again and again, your moans having turned into silent screams from how tired you were getting, and in the entire time, carlos had not once fucked you. you nearly wondered if this was some sort of fucked up fantasy of his, being a cuck of some sort but when you glanced to the side, gigi tugged your hair harshly which caused you to yelp out loud by surprise.
"you can't win, you can't listen to basic instructions, what the fuck are you even good for in the first place?" gigi growled, shaking his head as his cock drove deepered into your poor, reddened ass. teto's thumb found your clit, rubbing the abused pearl harshly as you screamed out loud, sobbing for a break. both men pulled out of you for a split second; teto whirled you around so that you back was pressed against his sweaty chest, looking up at gigi whose own sweat clung to his hairy body. the man behind you grabbed his cock, stroking it a few times before entering your gaping asshole while the man in front entered your swollen pussy, fucking you harshly once more. you threw your head back against teto's shoulder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as gigi's meaty hands came up to palm your tits, twisting your nipples harshly. you couldn't understand why this was happening, how did a game of uno turn into this madness? they fucked you like they hated you, like they wanted you dead. were you really that much of a nuisance to them? and yet carlos still sat on the side, watching the scene unfold. you nearly hoped that he'd step in and break them apart from you, but instead he continued to watch, as if waiting for his own turn.
gigi pulled out of you as your squirted your release, your body shaking with the force of your climax; your juices gushing out of you like a waterfall and staining the men's thighs. teto giggled, his high pitched voice rining in your ears as his hands rubbed your hips,
"ah, she's a squirter, didn't know that," he reached his hand around to continue rubbing your oversensitive clit, humming in approval as your body jerked in response, gasping for air. carlos had finally stood up by this point, stretching his arms as if he had been doing all the work and he held up the deck,
"one more round." he announced and you began to cry once more, shaking your head,
"no… no, please… i can't… i really can't…" you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. carlos shook his head, dismissing you in his own cruel manner, ignoring your whines and whimpers. if anything, it only made him want to take this next level. he hoisted you off teto's cock, shoving you onto the bed behind him while turning to gigi and teto,
"you two get some rest, yeah? got a plane to catch tomorrow."
the two men exchanged each other a glance, a bit bummed out that they couldn't have more fun with you but considering themselves lucky for the opportunity in the first place, they dressed themselves up and grabbed their belongings. gigi smacked your sore ass while teto leaned down to kiss your forehead, thanking you for the wonderful night as the both of them left the room, laughing amongst themselves at how stupid you looked on their cocks. the room was now silent, save your heavy breathing as you turned to face carlos, a curious look on your face as you watched him shuffle the cards once more.
"alright, easy mode. i will give you the cards you need to win," carlos explained, sitting on the edge of the bed just across from you. he waited for you to sit back up, listening to your hiccups. "we play the game as it is, you win this round and it'll be over, i promise you. just win the game, mi vida, i know you can do this."
he shuffled the cards a total of 5 times, even going so far as to looking through the deck and choosing the best cards for you. you were starting to feel hopeful, maybe he really was a man of his word, maybe it was finally time for you to shine and get this game gone. you hastily picked up your cards when he finished shuffling, glancing at the open card.
it was a green 7.
you had a green 5.
perfect, you could actually finally win this. you ignored the foggy feeling of your brain, trying your hardest to concentrate. he was placing numbers that you had, and you swore you placed down the 3, but he shook his head and gave the card back to you.
"no, it's a 3, you placed down a 4, come on, use your brain, hermosa," he scolded you, lips drawn into a thin, disappointing line. you nodded your head, whispering a soft apologize before glancing at your deck and placing down the yellow 3.
"no," carlos rolled his eyes, handing the yellow card back to you, "you have a green 3, you have more greens than yellow, get the greens out of the way first!"
"oh… you're right," you whispered, and he even showed you his deck,
"save your yellow when i place this card down! oh come on, no puedes ser tan estúpido, just continue."
as the cards kept being drawn and placed down on the deck, your eyes were focused on your deck and the open card, trying to read the numbers properly. your mind was overworking yourself, you were too exhausted for the mental capacity to be playing this game but just as you were about to get rid of your fourth card, carlos exclaimed 'uno'.
you paused, eyes flickering up to find him holding one card. "no… no that's not possible. i was… i was winning!"
"winning, my ass," carlos scoffed, throwing the card to the side. "you stupid slut, i even had the game laid out for you, even help you and you couldn't win, what a fucking whore. were you fucked too dumb, or was this always how you were?"
carlos had gotten up, grabbing you by your throat as he pinned you to the bed, looming over you. "joder, look at you. nothing but a little puta all spread out for me to use," he sneered, his accent dripping with disdain. he used his free hand to tug his pants down, freeing his hardened cock that had been aching since the day he had gone through your phone and found those filthy photos. forcing your legs apart, he spat onto your cunt, not bothering with foreplay or gentleness, you'd had enough time with teto and gigi to get used to this, "i've been waiting for this moment since the day i met you, zorra, fuck."
without warning, he shoved his thick cock into your cunt, throwing his head back with a low growl, "ay, qué estrecha! your cunt is so fucking tight, you little bitch, even after the way they used you?" he laughed in disbelief, shaking his head, "you're more of a slut than i thought!"
carlos continued his brutal assault on your poor, swollen cunt. each rough, hateful thrust of his hips was a punch to your lungs as he folded your legs over your body, contorting you to his will, leaving you gasping and wheezing for air. now you understood why he hadn't fucked you before, he was saving you all for himself. his balls slapped against your ass, his hand connecting with your face as he continued to fuck you as if he meant to kill you, "dios mio, you deserve this, you deserve every single fucking second of this."
his head fell forward, his face inches from yours as he growled, "i have spent too long dealing with your stuck up little ass, too long. every fucking race, i've wanted nothing more than to slam you against the wall and fuck this tight cunt of yours until you were screaming. you think i'm incompetent? you think i'm going to be forgotten in williams? think again, puta, i will be more than you could ever be in your worthless life."
"be perfect," he mocked in a high-pitched voice, pulling out of you abruptly before flipping you over onto your stomach. he roughly kneaded your ass, spreading your cheeks apart to spit on your tight ring of muscle. he shoved his length deep inside your warm guts, his hand pressing your face down against the mattress to silence your whimpers, "ferrari is all about perfection, it's about class, elegancy, dignity! what it wasn't about, was dealing with a bitch like you! four years, i spent four years putting up with you, having to listen to your every insult, your every complaint and snide remarks." he leaned down to grab your hair, yanking your head back to arch your back and force your eyes to meet his, "did you really think i wasn't going to do anything before i left? did you think i was going to listen to you with a shut mouth? no, no not at all, puta."
he grabbed your body and carried you to his bed in the hotel room, laying on his back as you laid right above him, watching your ass bounce as he thrusted his hips up into the air harshly, both hands clutching your thighs to keep you hoisted up. you knew his grip was about to leave sore bruises on your body the next morning, but you couldn't even form words to fight back; you were reduced to a babbling, incoherent, dumb fucking mess.
"you wanted picture perfect pr?" he growled in your ear, his fingers coming around your waist to rub at your clit. you screamed out loud in overstimulation, especially when he drove his digits into your sopping, wet cunt. he laughed, a harsh bark behind you, "you like this don't you? you like being used like a whore, all for my use? maybe that's why you've been such a bitch, you just wanted this all along, didn't you? mierda, i can feel your asshole squeezing me like the stupid brainless slut i know you are, you're loving this aren't you? you love having your body used by a man who despises you?"
your tits bounced in the air, his hips refusing to slow down as he continued to fuck up into you, his hand clamping over your mouth to silence your noises. just before you could cum, he shoved you off him and watched you crumble onto the ground. he stood up, grabbing your phone off the nightstand as he took in a deep breath, pressing record as he stroked his cock over your body, his hand wrapped around his thick shaft, going back and forth and back and forth. "turn your head, i need you to face the camera, puta."
you weakly looked up, your breathing ragged and short as he smiled above you. he groaned as he climaxed over your body, making sure to spray your tits and your face with his cum, laughing at the tired, fucked out look in your eyes. you took a few minutes to come to your senses, finally finding the words after this entire ordeal.
"w-what was that recording for?" you swallowed, slowly beginning to sit up despite the way your body was screaming in pain that you knew was only going to get worse tomorrow.
carlos smiled, his thumb tapping against your screen a few times, "oh, just thought lewis could know he has a welcome gift waiting for him when he joins the team next year," and he turned the phone to face you, enjoying the way your face paled at the screen of the video being sent to the future ferrari driver you were supposed to manage next year, your eyes glued to the typing dots…
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: let her taste the fires of hell, or let her be mine and mine alone! - the young chaplain, charles leclerc, cannot control his desires when the very object of sin crosses his path: you.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, slapping/flogging, forced breeding, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, carving, overstimming/edging, bondage, kidnapping
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.7k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on the hunchback of notre dame and hilda furacao! also guys... read the second part: You're My Religion
chaplain!charles waited impatiently at the front doors of the cathedral. his brow arched at the bell ringers who passed by him to attend to the younger chaplains. he bit the inside of his cheek, narrowing his eyes at father gasly who had just received a basket of bread and eggs, enough to share for two; however, father gasly had already promised father ocon the week before that when the bell ringer delivered the next basket of groceries, he would share 30% of the goods with him. that left 60%, and charles had made it very clear that would only have 50% of the basket, never 30%. he would never settle for less, no matter the circumstances. his head snapped back to face the street at the edge of the staircase down below, eyes searching for his specific bell ringer. the items he had listed were very simple: bread, cheese and a pint of milk. yet, the imbecile - as charles would put it - made it seem as if the young chaplain had asked for the finest meal in all of the country. he saw the boy run up the staircase, panting heavily,
"forgive me, father leclerc," the boy heaved, struggling to catch his breath. he thrusted the basket into the hands of the chaplain, "i believe i've bought everything that you asked for."
charles peered into the basket, frowning when he noticed only the bread and milk. the cheese was not present. he glared at the young boy, eyes shifting to the sky as he inhaled, sharply, "lord, grant me the strength to not strike this young lad for his incompetence," his eyes traveled down to the boy once more, "where is the cheese?"
"w-what? i swear the lady in the market gave it to me!" he cried out, burying his head inside the basket. charles pushed his head away as the boy continued to rant, "i swear she did! i even paid for it with the alms that were given to you, father leclerc! she put something inside along with the bread and milk, i am sure of it!" he watched charles shift through the basket once more, his nimble fingers pushing the slices of bread around when he noticed a thinly shaped parchment tucked between two slices. he pulled it out, flipping it around to see that it was folded into four pieces and he tossed the basket to the boy before opening the paper.
"god is a lie, tell your beloved peasants residing in the church that their foolish words shall no longer have appeal, so long as i live!"
charles crumpled the paper and tossed it down the stairs, a snarl on his lips as he glared at the boy, "who gave you this basket? who would dare write such heresy to be given to the devotees of god here?"
"i-i do not know! maybe the baskets were switched!" the boy reasoned, and charles yanked the basket from his hand and stormed into the cathedral, barking at the other men that blocked his path towards his cell. he was stopped quite shortly by father bozzi who beckoned him towards the main altar,
"father leclerc, you are causing quite the storm today," he commented, instantly raising a finger to silence charles' arguable words. he brought a hand over the younger man's shoulder, guiding him to stand right before the holy cross, hung gloriously above for all to see. the light from the glass windows shifted towards the cross, as if god himself was asking of charles to redirect his attention back to the being that expected better of him. he swallowed, thickly, taking in a deep breath as he closed his eyes, letting the still air of the cathedral silence his restless mind. "you must learn to control your emotions. it is bad to let your tongue slither around, you must hold it as you must your anger. you are to set an example to the other chaplains. in a month, you shall become a chapter priest. i have put good word for you to archdeacon vasseur, he cares for you tremendously, you are practically his son!"
the golden child of the cathedral, charles knew what his situation was. yet the pressure of it all, to be better than the others, to see to it that one day he would be the archdeacon. it was all too much for him to handle, to understand the expectations. his heart swelled at the praise, but the nagging sensation of what he had read from the parchment continued to persist and he let his eyes fall to the holy cross once more, "with such a divine presence in our lives, it irks me that there is someone amongst our town preaching heresy to the people."
"heresy? are you sure, father leclerc?" father bozzi furrowed his brows, leaning in closer to ensure the commonfolk around them would not be able to eavesdrop. charles jerked his head to guide them both to a corner before whispering into the man's ear,
"i am positive. one of the bell ringers came to me with my basket of bread and milk and inside was found a parchment that emphasized how god is a lie," charles noticed the way father bozzi's hands flung to his ears, deafening himself to such disgusting words. he shook his head, crossing himself before turning to father leclerc,
"heresy is condemned here. it is imperative to find the man that is behind all this and have him burned at the stake for such insolence. i shall have a word with the archdeacon very soon, father leclerc. as of now, the archdeacon wished for me to tell you that a local hospital is in need of some divine intervention. the archdeacon wants you to go see if you can save the poor souls before he passes away." father bozzi took a step backwards, bowing his head before departing to his cell.
as per archdeacon vasseur's command, charles took his small, worn-out copy of his bible which was a testament to how devoted he was to the catholic church and his rosary, his fingers toying with the beads as he departed down the large staircase out of the cathedral. his foot kicked up the crumpled paper from earlier, and he scowled as his foot stomped it further into the dusty ground before walking off as if nothing had transpired. the hospital was quite the distance, and as he continued to walk he decided to utter a few bible verses to relax his mind. father bozzi was right, he had to control his mind and thereby his tongue. he could not let his emotions flood him, nor could he illicit such hurtful remarks to those that upset him. he had to keep himself in check, and he prayed that the holy father would guide him through the dark, treacherous path of the mortal world. as he turned the corner, he noticed a small, run-down stall of necessities and in front, leaning against the edge was you with your head thrown back, eyes closed as you basked in the sunlight. charles gazed at you in confusion, unsure as to why you were not behind the stall when a large crowd of men pushed past him to gather around your enchanting frame.
"well, well, well... frederick, i expect the usual?" you cooed, running a hand through your hair before letting it glide down your neck to rest on your scantily covered bosom. the man, frederick, let out a hearty laugh, moving to stand besides you as he picked up a pint of milk, tossing you some coins before gulping the liquid down. he let some of it splash onto the top of your breasts, and you squealed at the sensation, swiping the droplets with your forefinger before gliding it into your mouth for a taste. the men around you sighed, dreamily, at your action and as your eyes traveled around the crowd, it fell onto charles who snarled at the sight of debauchery happening in front of him. this was why he hated stepping out of the cathedral, there was so much sin lurking around. he averted his eyes elsewhere, realizing that he had overstood his time in front of your stall and trudged forward, muttering at how lust destroys humans, how it easily corrupts the innocent. he gave you one more glance, and unknowingly, his eyes drifted down your neck to the fullness of your tits, watching the way they bounced as you jumped, clapping your hands at the sight of some man making a fool out of himself just for your entertainment. his gaze roamed down to the way your ass curved against your skirt, sticking out for any man to grab. his eyes snapped down to see his hand reach out into the open air and he took a step back in horror at his own action. you had to be a witch, tempting him into sin! he growled under his breath, storming off to his duty.
you were waiting for him at your stall when he returned, drumming your fingers against the makeshift wooden table as he passed by you with the same scowl on his lips.
"father leclerc!" you stood up, and then you clapped your hands to grab his attention. sensing that he would not stop, you rolled your eyes and hollered, "charles!" the smirk that was on your face was quickly replaced with fear as he charged towards you, slamming his bible down.
"comment osez-vous !" he shouted, watching you cower onto the wall behind your stall, "how dare you address me by my name, you insolent wench! a god fearing woman such as yourself should know better than to..." his words are silenced at the sight of the slightest sliver of parchment poking from underneath the fabric, the raised hand falling down to his side as his eyes flashed in anger. he bit his tongue, remembering the words of father bozzi, "what have you called me for, young woman?"
"i was wondering if you liked your basket of goods this morning," you forced a smile, darting your tongue out to wet your lips, and charles' anger grew once more, but so did a different feeling. those lips of yours, he craved it. he sighed out loud, wanting to open a verse of the bible to school you when his eyes stopped at your barely-covered breast, the parchment hiding in the corner mocking him. his hand delved onto your tits, roughly groping away as you gasped out loud at the sudden intrusion, feeling his fingers roll against your hardening nipples. he roughly yanked out the stash of parchment, tilting his head up to reform your beliefs when in a second, his head snapped to the side as a burning sensation bloomed onto his left cheek. his eyes peered to the sight of you rubbing your sore knuckles, having backhanded him across his face.
"even a man of your supposed god is not free from sin," you whispered, and just as he was about to smash your head with the milk pints, father gasly had walked over to his friend with a smile that continued to die down with each step that he took.
"what has happened here, ami?" he questioned, staring between charles and you. when receiving no answer, he frowned and draped an arm around his friend, turning him around to head back to the cathedral. you were biting your lip in frustration at the fact that your parchments were seized by charles, and even worse, the sight of his dark glare boring into your soul pressed you to find shelter soon for your own safety. charles was bound to inform the church, and while the idea of burning at the stake was gruesome, you believed that death was not one you should fear, but one you should accept.
however, charles did not inform the other fathers about his discovery. nor did he go to confess his sin of having wrongfully touched a woman. in his mind, if he told the other fathers about his discovery, they would ask how he obtained it. he could never lie in front of them, and if he told them the truth, they would be horrified. and then, if he confessed his sin, father sainz would be considered for chapter priest over him. he could not risk such a move. he had to be quiet, but the turmoil swirling inside him forced him to his knees, hands crossed as the rosary dangled from his fingers. he couldn't shake the image of your round tits, the warmth that he felt on his fingers. to be near a woman, to be even able to touch her. he ran his hands over his face, hoping that your intoxicating scent was still alive on his fingers. he glanced up to the holy cross he had perched on the wall, mouth running dry. he glanced over to the pint of milk he had received from you earlier, placed right next to stash of your written poster of heresy. lost in a daze, he scrambled over to unscrew the milk and he remembered the sight of the man pouring it over your breasts, how you licked a stripe of the liquid from your delicate finger. he was drowning in the thought of you, unable to withstand the temptation of sin. he was cursed with having always letting his emotions get the best of him, but this was not an emotion. it was an obsession. he took a sip of the milk, savoring its taste before pouring it down his head, his tongue - now let loose - lapping at the liquid as it trailed downwards, spilling onto the floor. his face covered in your milk, and he envisioned it as it truly being your milk which only made him yearn for you more. he grabbed the stash of parchments, unfolding and placing them onto his face as if they were napkins, the paper soaking up the milk droplets. the warmth of your skin was still imprinted onto the paper, he could smell you off of them. he groaned out loud, wishing his hands were not bound from the constraints of his duty as a servant of god, to be able to bury his face in those tits of yours to sing praises of you out loud. another needy moan escaped his lips, and he pulled the papers off him to see your heretic cries, your hurdled insults. each page a different set of twisted words targeting his church, his people, his beliefs. the bitch had tricked him, she had ruined his once pure mind. he crawled over to the wall frantically, glancing up to see the cross once more as he begged for forgiveness.
he begged, and begged, and continued to beg as tears fell from his eyes, his cheeks all rosy from the woeful tunes he sang. you had destroyed him, changed him. he was meant to be chapter priest in a month, and would soon lead an enviable life. no, no, no, how could you do this to him? you, of all people, a heretic! he sobbed once more, clutching the rosary to his chest as he asked the holy father to pardon him.
"forgive me! punish me but please forgive me!" he cried out, arms outstretched into the air as he kneeled in front of the wall. his chest heaved with each sob that bellowed from his gut. he believed his prayers to fall onto deaf ears, and for penance, he decided to starve himself. no eggs, no bread, no cheese and definitely no milk. he would switch to eating soup even worse to punish himself. perhaps if he did so, he would be forgiven, he would be seen as the ideal role model that he always was. the golden child, the one that was meant to carry the legacy of archdeacon vasseur, to restore glory to the catholic church. most importantly, he would be the one to make sure you pay for tempting to him to sin.
the well-awaited carnival took place in the center of town, a spectacle to behold. the dancers, the food, the jesters, the royal family making an appearance because they loved to take part in the lives of their people. the chaplains had returned to their cells after prayer, their ears stirring at the music that floated through the halls of the cathedral. charles was sipping his bowl of soup, its contents pitiful, when he received word from father gasly that he was to go outside and convince the people to attend mass tomorrow and in order to do so, they must put an end to the carnival. charles grimaced, despising the thought of having to step out of the cathedral once more. he loved to stay inside, loved to sit in his cell and recite the verses that he memorized with such love and adoration. the thought of having to step foot into a place of sin, the thought of you possible being there. it disgusted him.
yet, duties had to be done and he once again found himself with his bible and rosary in hand, watching the village folk run around, laughing with rum in their hands. he snarled, electing to sit beside the king who had beckoned him over with a welcoming hand. you'll enjoy the festivities, you'll feel welcome, the villagers always love to celebrate every good event, the king rambled and charles tuned him out, still holding to his belief that this place was an extension of hell. he was just about ready to excuse himself when he saw you sauntering up to the center of the stage, an outfit that made him part his lips with a dazed expression. your shirt hung loose off your shoulders, the corset tightening your waist which pushed your tits upward as you grabbed hold of your skirt and began to dance, seductively. some of the men from below the stage hopped on to join you, twirling you around while skipping to and fro. your eyes were fixated on charles, calling to him like the siren that you were. he averted his eyes, his grip tightening around his rosary as he saw you approaching the royal family. you curtsied, bowing your head and offered a rose to the princess who beamed in joy at such a simple act. their joy was short-lived when they saw you stalk over to charles, curtsying enough for him to glance at your cleavage, before standing up abruptly. a tease, a temptation, a witch. quite suddenly, you grabbed onto his rosary and wrapped it around his neck, pulling him close to your face as your lips brushed against his nose.
"your tricks won't work on me, satan," charles whispered, breathlessly. his words spoke one story, while his eyes told another. you smirked at his reaction, shaking your head,
"and yet you fall every single time, father, strange isn't it?"
when you pulled away, you let his rosary hit the ground as you went back to dancing. the king laughed out loud, commenting that this must be the chaplain's first interaction with a woman in his entire life but charles wasn't focused on that. he was focused on his cracked rosary, now shaped like a jagged knife. if he had it his way, he would bend you over in front of everyone and show the entire village how much of a whore you were. you would be screaming for mercy, begging him to let you go, and all he would do is laugh. heretics never deserved mercy. they didn't believe in the holy father that would grant them such mercy, so why should he? charles' jaw clenched at the thought, and he stood up and departed the carnival with lust clouding his thoughts.
it was late at night, the chaplains were back in their cells fast asleep before sunday mass. yet, charles was out searching through the streets for something... else. he couldn't hold his desires anymore, he couldn't control his thoughts. your power over him, it was revolting! and the only way to relieve his struggles, was to let it out on some prostitute that would throw herself at him. he remembered when he had been very young how father vettel - who was later kicked out of the cathedral - had been secretly seeing woman for his own pleasure. charles had seen a woman on her knees in the confession booth, her lips wrapped around father vettel's member as he groaned out loud, hips snapping to meet her lips. charles remembered witnessing the sinful exchange and being tempted to try it out on his own. it took weeks of penance to cleanse his mind after, but he feared that in his present day, it was impossible now. nothing could make him forget you. he stopped in front of a small hut, a dull candle shining through the broken window as he pushed the door open to see a prostitute fast asleep on her bed. he shut the door behind him, bringing the cloak down before towering over her sleeping form.
she deserved no kindness, her job itself was that of impurity. he set his cloak on her small table, beginning to undress. the shifting of clothes and jewelry caused her to stir in her sleep and when she opened her eyes groggily, a hand clasped around her mouth as the bed dipped at the additional weight of charles climbing in.
"not a word from you. i shall pay you a handsome sum if you do your job," he hissed, yanking her top down to expose her breasts. his hands came forward to softly knead the flesh, her gasps spurring him on as he began to squeeze, pinching her nipples harshly as she let out a cry in pain.
"father l-lec-"
"no!" he slapped her across her face, remembering when you had done the same to him. it boiled his blood that you would dare raise your hand at him, and he sucked his teeth, "you call me charles. i want to hear you say charles."
she whimpered, nodding her head as he lowered his face onto her tits, burying his face between them as he groaned out loud. they were so soft, so warm and beautiful and he ran his tongue over her hardened peaks, flicking them around before beginning to suck. she moaned, quietly, arching into him further as he wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer. whoever this whore was, she was going limp in his arms as he continued to maul at her tits, marking her. his lips trailed up to her neck, biting on her skin harshly as he pulled away to stare at her, "i'll need your help. i'm quite inexperienced in... such... acts of intimacy, but i need it to relieve my anger."
"i can gladly help you father..." she paused, noticing the way his eyes narrowed at her and she gulped, before responding "charles." she let her finger trail down the side of his face, but he caught hold of her hand and scoffed,
"don't... touch me, she wouldn't be able to anyway," he ignored the way the woman frowned at his words, not following along but as long as she paid him, she was happy to fulfill whatever he asked for.
it was hours later when charles exited the hut, glancing through the window to see the woman completely passed out on the bed, not an ounce of fabric covering her form. he smirked to himself, bringing the hood of his cloak closer to mask his identity. he was walking down the street when he saw you, standing there with a disgusted expression on your face.
"for a man of god, you commit every sin in the world and yet you are pardoned. how would the church feel knowing what you have done? with a prostitute?" you questioned, which only darkened his eyes as he walked over to where you stood.
"prostitutes are necessary evils, they help control a common man's lust," he replied.
"common man? or every man? you clearly couldn't control your lust. did you see her at mass? is there an affair taking place?" you snapped, circling around him and he laughed, a dark rich laugh as he took off his hood to stare directly into your eyes.
"you witch, you would know. if i had never seen you, my path would've stayed the same. but you... you!" he thrust his finger into your face, before wrapping his hand around your throat, "you disgusting whore, you've ruined me. you've destroyed everything i spent years working on! that prostitute was only meant to substitute you!"
he let his hand trail down to your arm, placing it behind you as he spun you around so that your back touched his chest. he inhaled the scent of your hair, murmuring praises as his lips danced down your neck. he stretched your shirt to expose your shoulder, the very one he saw in carnival earlier in the day and sunk his teeth, clamping your mouth shut to silence your screams. it was music to his ears. wriggling out of his grasps, you grabbed the rosary from his pockets and swung it at him. he groaned in pain, feeling a gash on his forehead as blood trickled down. when his eyes snapped upwards, he saw your form running away from him and he clutched onto the fallen rosary, seething in rage that you managed to escape him once again. mass would start in a couple hours, and he would pray to the holy father to let him have you, let him punish you for your wrongdoings and teach you how to behave.
charles was always gifted with music. it was one of his defining skills, and he was allowed to play the grand organ during mass. he finished his last drop of soup, shuddering at the foul taste that he created to punish himself and sank down on the cushioned stool, cracking his knuckles. he glanced down at his fingers, remembering the way they were knuckle-deep in the prostitute's cunt, the squelching of her juices as he kept thrusting them into her, his other hand rubbing her clit as she whimpered, telling him it was too much. he remembered slapping her, telling her to hold her tongue as he continued to work her to her climax. he curled his fingers inside her, watching her legs shake as they involuntarily spread further. he twisted his fingers inside her, her clit puffy from the way his thumb massaged it with fervor. her juices splattered onto him, and the wave of realization washed over him as his fingers delicately brushed against the keys. the buttons of music. he pushed them around, his eyes drifting to the ceiling of the cathedral as he played the first few chords he was accustomed to. the calling from god, the spirit that let his gospel be spread for the underprivileged that saw him as their savior. archdeacon vasseur was below near the main altar, welcoming in the devout christians that were attending mass. the organs above, the gold decorations shining in the light. they were curved, mesmerizing. they were you. he swore he saw you in the reflection of the organ, laughing and mocking him. berating, ridiculing, insulting, spitting at him. he felt an invisible force press down on the gash on his forehead, and he hissed as he stiffened, feeling the light above call out to him but the dark temptation pulling him back down.
unaware that the sermon had commenced below, charles smashed his fingers onto the organ, letting his emotions run wild as the chords become darker, more desperate. it was the call of a siren, the lustful whines of the devil that would not let him go. it wasn't his fault, it was never his fault! how could he resist you? the wench who had powers far greater than that of any man, it was hard! he was still young, still had much to learn and he screamed out loud as he felt his heart being torn to pieces, fingers still playing the ominous tune on the grand organ. it wasn't until father sainz and father gasly physically lifted and dragged charles away did his vision begin to clear, and he realized his mistake. no, he'd let archdeacon vasseur down. he made a fool of himself in front of everyone, he'd use his talent to procure something so evil! his despair was heightened when he was placed back in his cell to reflect and seek god to save his troubled soul as he sobbed in his bed, feeling like a disappointment. his tears cascaded down his cheeks, eyes searching for the holy father to lift him to heaven! he could not spend another second in this mortal world, as long as you lived. the parchment paper stash was on his desk, and he scowled at the sight of it, ripping it to shreds before exiting his cell and taking it to the fireplace just outside in the hallway. he tossed the pieces of paper inside, watching the way the small embers of the fire flickered and danced around, its orange tint glowing against the darkness surrounding it. The flame grew, spreading across the small piece of paper, the edges turning from a stark white to a dull charcoal. The visual haunted him, the flames reminding him of your hair, of your burning eyes, that desire that is eating him from inside. he needed you, he needed to have you in his arms. the smoke that emitted from the burnt papers swept over to him and he extended his arms, swiping at them to see if he could hold onto to it. when met with the air of his sins, he stared at the fire with tears in his eyes.
"elle sera à moi" he whispered underneath his breath, dousing the flames with the pot of water beside the fireplace.
the marketplace was rather quiet the very next morning. the men who would come in to have a chat with you found your stall empty, as if you had just left the entire town on short notice. the truth was, these men weren't lusting after you or trying to get a new deal. they were all part of your secret organization to preach athiesm. it was only a few of them anyway, and the trick with frederick a few days ago was part of your plan to gain the attention of a chaplain, any chaplain really, so that they could see god could not control every individual, their mind will wander and it's up to them to help each other to be better, not an invisible force. none of them would have predicted that the chaplain they strung the net for happened to be the worst one in the church. your presence missing sent fear in them, wondering if they would be hunted after by the catholic church for participating in these illegal activities. your friends assumed you to be dead, so did your poor, old parents and any of the bell ringers who brought their groceries from you.
"you should be grateful, mon diablesse," charles' words echoed through the empty corridor, his footsteps approaching your frame, "i could've easily turned you in, had you burned at the stake, stoned to death, flogged beyond recognition."
"death would be liberating," you spat at his face, the glob of saliva hitting the cut on his forehead and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, snarling at you,
"you think you're so smart, so witty..." he paused, crouching down to face you directly, "so beautiful..." his knuckles brushed against your cheek tenderly, watching the way you recoiled under his touch, pulling your head far back as you could under the confines of rope that bound you to the corner. he had set fire to your house the night before, and when you fled out you had fallen right into his arms. your anguished screams infiltrated the cold, dead night and he grabbed a cane laying on the road to pummel against the back of your head. your body slipped into unconsciousness, and he carried you in his arms through the back of his cathedral. each step that he took up the staircase, his eyes watched your limp form, your tits brushing against his cloak, your hands hanging with your head thrown back, eyes closed as if you were in bliss. at the top of the staircase, he could see the holy cross from the opposite end of the cathedral, the light dimming, almost leaving him. he frowned, turning back to face you in his arms, "the devil is here, she shall be here until the holy father guides her to a righteous path, and then she shall be mine..."
his lips peppered kisses along your face, hovering over your lips before he let them envelop around yours. the softness of your lips, the way they warmed them. he could not resist the temptation any longer, he needed find a way to merge into you, to live inside you and have all this to himself. no one would ever touch you, speak to you or even look at you. you were his, all his.
your bounds were humiliating, having wrapped around your arms and legs and specifically around your tits to plump them up. they hurt at times, especially when charles would tug on the confines before slapping your tits, watching the way they were swollen and slightly purple from the lack of circulation. your arms were bound above your head, legs anchored to some weights that charles had found in father sainz's cell the other day. you would not escape him, you would not escape your destiny to understand the glory of god. this was your punishment for heresy, charles would see to it that he taught you everything, that you would understand why he was doing this. because he cared for you! he hadn't done anything to hurt you, yet. he was just fascinated, treating you like a child as he would spend hours every day reading the bible to you and explaining god's love for all beings, and strangely enough day by day, it almost felt as if the god he was referring to was him. your eyes should be on him, hands in prayer for him. not god, no charles should be your god. his desire for you was so strong, he selfishly assumed that even god shouldn't be able to cherish his finest creation: you. yes, you were broken and needed guidance, but perhaps thats why god created you! he wanted to spend extra time with you, and charles hated the thought of you with anyone other than him.
he had a flog in his hands, and every time your eyes would droop or you'd turn your head away, he'd instantly flog your tits harshly and grab your jaw, forcing you to look at him. not a fleck of dust deserved your attention. you'd whimper, feeling pain course through your blood as you tried not to cry. you knew you were stronger than this, that you could hold it out and find a way to escape. even if you wanted to grab the attention of the bell ringers, they'd know you as the girl who died. if you came back, they'd accuse you of being a witch and your death would be imminent. charles planned this all out, and you could tell with the way he looked at you that he never wanted you to ever leave him. on days when you would listen obediently, even asking questions for further explanations, he would reward you by loosening the bounds just a bit to let you breath better and he suck on your tits, rolling your nipples around as he watched you whine against his lips, growing needier as the days passed. you were becoming more reliant on him, the fraction of pleasure you would feel consuming your thoughts. you would recite verses and summarize what you learned just for him to reward you, to let you relax your sore limbs and the praise he gave you would go straight to your core.
"mon ange, you are doing so good," he cooed, kissing your cheek as his thumb ran along your bottom lip.
"chérie, look at you, all beautiful and basking in the light as the lord's prettiest creation," he stuck his finger into your mouth, watching you obediently begin sucking just like he had taught you the other day, eyes all wide and eager to worship him. he had you right where he wanted, devout to him so he could bless you with whatever you wanted. but, he should've known that your stubbornness was far greater than his love for god. in fact, it helped you clear your mind one day when you realized that you were acting like a cheap whore for him. you were better than this, stronger than this! you needed to escape, your mind was being twisted by him. after a very frustrating day where he was lectured by archdeacon vasseur about controlling his anger, he stormed to the hidden room to find you to help control his emotions. only to find you out of the confines with a stone rock that you had sharpened secretly, trying to climb through the window.
"espèce de fille insolente!" charles roared, yanking you by your hair as he tossed you to the stone floor. you groaned loudly in pain, your body still sore from having spent days bound like a present for him. he flipped you to your back, a hand on your throat as he brought you up, "how foolish i am to have thought that you were learning, that you were behaving well for me!"
"sometimes the lust clouds one's mind and some can escape, others such as yourself rot in it and becomes the very monster they sought to kill!" you hissed, and he tightened his grasp, watching you squirm, gasping for air. he lets go of you, letting your head hit the floor as he stands up and begins to undress.
"i was trying to be nice, so nice to you. i thought the devil had left you, it seems she is back and more dangerous than ever!" he tossed his belongings behind him and grabbed hold of the rope, pulling your hands to him as he began to wrap it around. he ignored your pleas, your whines at how your wrists were sore, how you would rather die than have to deal with this again and he slapped you across the face, silencing you instantly, "i should've done this the day i met you."
he fished through his discarded cloak for the broken rosary, letting it sway in front of your eyes. you gulped when you saw the jagged, sharp end. He let the broken rosary trail down from your lips to right between your breasts, and he licked his lips. slowly, he began to etch a cross into your soft, tender flesh. each line was precise, each stroke deliberate. he ignored the way tears fell from your eyes, trying your best not to scream in pain as his eyes watched the blood seep from your skin. as he carved, he leaned down and began to lap at the small beads of blood that welled up in the wake of the knife. his eyes never left yours, boring into your soul with deranged intensity. his tongue drifted down to your cunt, and he spit onto it, letting his tongue flatten on your clit before he began to move. thank god for that prostitute one night, she taught him so much. he bit down on your folds, flicking your clit around. his tongue delved into your inner walls, watching you arch your back as you cried louder, trying to push him off you but he quickly grabbed hold of your wrists, preventing you from leaving as he drank your delicious juice. he tilted his head upwards, your arousal glistening against his chin,
"if you want my forgiveness, recite to me one... at least one thing i taught you." he whispered, and you bucked your hips upwards,
"never. you are the very spawn of satan!" you hissed, which earned you a harsh slap on your clit, causing you to whine out loud. he bit the inside of his cheek, furiously rubbing your sensitive nub, your song of lust echoing through the cathedral as you cummed for the first time of the day. his thumb did not stop, instead he kept going faster while adding two fingers into your dripping cunt, curling them inside as you squealed at the oversensitivity.
"say one... say one verse," he spat, "one verse, putain."
"n-no!" you moaned, still feeling the burn of your skin from where he carved the cross on you. you would not give in, you would not let him take control of you again like he did last time. you knew better than this, you were one of the smartest women in the town before this monster took you. his fingers were relentless, scissoring into your cunt as you screamed, lost in the fog of your mind as you kept cumming and cumming around his fingers.
"say that im your god, say that you will only ever worship me, i am your savior, your idol, say it!" charles pulled his fingers away right when you were on the brink of another orgasm, and you let out a guttural scream, sobbing as your hips began to grind the air, searching for your lost release. you couldn't anymore, you couldn't hold back.
"y-you're my god... my savior... my idol," you whispered between whimpers, and a satisfied chuckle escaped his lips. he nodded his head before folding you into a mating press. your sore body was complying with his requests, your mind pounding as he hoisted your legs up to rest against his shoulders. his eyes hungrily soaked up the sight of the bleeding cross on the valley of your tits, and he rolled your nipples around, knowing how sensitive you were. this was the day he was waiting for, this was the day where he could finally claim you as his. he gave the shaft his throbbing cock a couple pumps, before sliding into you with a small moan escaping his lips.
"putain, tu te sens si bien," he whispered, rocking his hips against yours as you mewled out loud. he laughed at the sight of you, disheveled and worn out. even the devil could not be perfect at all times. he felt powerful, having tamed the devil and being the one whose cock was splitting you open. his thrusts became faster, your sobs becoming louder as he took what he believed to be rightfully his. he groped your tits, remembering his fascination with them when he first met you and leaned closed to latch his lips onto them again. the lewd sounds made you snap your head to the side, surprisingly feeling yourself growing wetter at the squelching of his cock inside your dripping pussy. "mon ange, the only way you will ever learn, the only way you will be mine forever is if you embrace what the holy father planned for your kind. bearing children and fearing him."
your glossy eyes flickered to him, a hint of fear at his words and he began to thrust harshly into you, your tits swaying as he began to pick up his pace once more, "a child will put you in your place. you will learn then. your tits will be swollen with milk, oh the thought of it...."
he leaned forward to bite down on your nipples, before sucking them and releasing them with a pop! "your belly will carry my child, and they will follow the virtuous path offered to them, not the words of a heretic who spreads her legs for a lustful man, no this is the union between two devotees in love with the creation of god." he pulled away to kiss your feet, running his tongue over your ankle as you moaned out loud, begging him to go deeper. you could feel your orgasm approaching, your mind telling you that this was wrong but you couldn't resist anymore. he let one of your wrap around his waist, letting his cock dig into your further. his finger brushed against the carved cross, applying pressure at some corners and the pain mingled with the pleasure, finally pushing you past the edge. your screams flooded the empty corridor as you squirted your release all over his relentless cock. he continued to thrust into you, letting your ride your waves of pleasure and with a soft whimper, his cock shot ropes of his cum in your walls. he continued to fuck you, hands on your hips as he wanted nothing to go to waste. when he pulled out, he stuffed his fingers into you, ignoring your wail at how sensitive you were. he was panting, making sure nothing leaked out of you. you would bear his child, you would denounce your heretic practices, you would stay with him forever and love god. you will worship him, and him alone.
the corridor is locked when he leaves, your body placed near a small fire-place as you slept. he draped you in his cloak for warmth, kissing your cheek lovingly before whispering how beautiful you would be as the mother to his children. when he returned downstairs, he was stopped by father bozzi and archdeacon vasseur who smiled at him, proudly.
"father leclerc, your virtuous path has inspired so many, we are seeing new people attend mass! it could not have been done with you," father bozzi grinned. both pair of eyes gazed at the archdeacon who clasped his hand on charles' shoulder,
"father leclerc, tomorrow is your ceremony to become chapter priest. and you will also receive the monsignor title!" archdeacon vassuer announced, and charles smiled, thanking for the honor.
charles stood in front of the altar, staring at the holy cross. he clasped his hands in prayer, smiling as he closed his eyes. he was being rewarded by the holy father for his good penance. he would stop eating soup, and eat good food again. he was being rewarded for his successful missionaries, for having converted previous non-believers into believers.
and most importantly, for having tamed the tempting devil.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "I am not made of stone, I am just as mortal as you" - Prince Arthur returns from his studies abroad, but you had no idea that this was all part of Charles' plan to make you his.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, p in v, slapping
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: a bit more focus on arthur in this chapter but charles is still evil hehehe and yes i finally wrote chapter two after 8 months im sorry
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“all this pomp and parade for what?” you sniveled as you leaned your head back to watch the flags drape down from the gates. the velvet red color looked bleak against the backdrop of the castle, the sullen gold of A and L intertwined doing little to cheer up your mood based on the occasion. you turned your head towards your sister, watching her fidget with her handkerchief as usual as her eyes remain transfixed on her husband who was standing at the very front, hands behind his back and posture straight - there was no doubt that he was thrilled to see his little brother again.
"prince arthur has asked quite a lot about you," your sister whispered, leaning in close. you let out a bitter laugh, followed by a snort,
"i'm sure he did, that conniving fool. i cannot believe father made us use our best tailors to make those ghastly drapes, he doesn't deserve an ounce of it!"
your sister elbowed you, a frown on her soft face. with a shake of her head, her eyes flickered over to her husband's back, hoping he did not hear your cruel words. when she deemed it to be safe, she turned back to face you, "you mustn't speak in that manner, what if he had heard you?"
"so what?" you snorted, "i'd rather he hear it from my own tongue, to let him know how much i detest him. you don't even know what happened a week ago when i had come searching for you in your chambers! by the way, where even were you that night? he had mentioned you had been dismissed to another reclusive part of the castle…"
"i… well…. i…" she began to stammer through her sentence, avoiding your stern gaze, "i had been out taking a walk through the garden-"
"by yourself, i presume?"
she stiffened at your words and forced a nod, a small fragile smile blooming upon her lips, "y-yes, by myself, of course. who else would i walk with in the garden?" she laughed quietly as if the question itself was so absurd. she ceased her noises upon seeing the way you were sneering at her, of course you wouldn't buy the lie but she wished you would. she wished you would stop poking your nose into certain issues and not stir any more troubles for her. only she knew the extent to which charles went in disciplining her for ever daring to speak, and perhaps she was an evil sister for wishing the same fate unto someone she was to cherish and protect as the older sibling, but the way you carried yourself with a confidence that even the nobility envied had long burned her soul. why must you be brave enough, why must you be father's favorite and why must you be the token to her husband's heart. she could see it in the way that charles looked at you during dinner these past few days. a slow long swipe of his tongue against the cutlery, eyes fixated on your body the way a wolf would to a wandering deer. she could feel her husband's foot reach across the table to brush against yours in secrecy, only to be met with a harsh stomp of your heel against his buckle that made him hiss and bite down onto his knuckles.
charles' growing obsession with you wasn't unknown by the other members in the castle. your sister found herself crying to your mother often about how charles seldom lets her near him, but he would only perk up at the mention of your name. your father turned a blind eye to your sister's pleas, telling her that she was fussing over nothing. she had a duty to serve her husband, it didn't matter where her husband laid or who he fascinated over, she was meant to be there waiting for him regardless. this only upset your sister further because she knew that had it been you in her position, you would've fought back and your father would've listened immediately. charles remained preoccupied with god knows what in the late hours of the night, reading through letters from his correspondents. slipping out of the bed, your sister had hesitantly approached him, hands running through the locks of his hair as a soothing technique,
"my love," she whispered, hoping it would have some effect on him, to draw him out of his desk and back into their shared bed, "it is late at night, surely you can put a hold on your tasks and join me?"
"you somehow manage to fascinate me with your stupidity," charles snapped, the candlelight illuminating his clenched jaw and the dull look in his eyes, "this is far more important than your miserable life can fathom, but i suppose i can entertain you for a minute."
your sister's mouth fell open into a shocked gasp at his harsh words, not understanding what the venomous intent was to constantly tear her down but she had no room to even think when he tossed her over his shoulder, dropping her to the center of bed. he climbed on top of her, bunching up her chemise to her waist before disappearing beneath her thighs, his tongue flicking out to dance along her sensitive bud. her hands trembled as she clung to this curls adorning his head and under the moonlight, her arousal smeared against his chin, glistening to her eyes alone. and yet, despite the short attention that charles had finally granted her, his mind wandered to the princess in the chambers right above theirs.
in the present moment, you're standing atop the balcony to look down at the parade. dancers merrily hopped to and fro, their ribbons fluttering behind them as the trumpets blared. the golden carriage carrying the duke's younger brother came to a halt just below the grand steps in the foyer of the castle and the door burst open to the reveal the young man. years of an expensive education in austria among the finest of the royals, only to come back and still behave like the scumbag he always was. balling your gloved hands into fists, you forced a smile as prince arthur set his eyes on you, a dark look in his eyes that only you could read.
"ah, mademoiselle, the finest princess i've ever met! surely you didn't miss me too much, hm?" arthur beamed, taking your hand to press a kiss to your gloved knuckles. you retched at the warmth of his lips, the fabric doing little as a proper barrier.
"i don't usually miss my father's hogs," you smiled, noticing the way his eyes narrowed. you could see his jaw tighten for a split second, before resuming his smile.
"still the same, still the same," he murmured, another chaste kiss to your hand before gliding past towards the entrance and into your father's arms. you casted a dark glance towards your sister, a silent message that you would've much rather spent your time doing anything but welcoming this brat.
arthur had specifically chosen his seat besides you at the dining table, leaning forward to compliment your sister's necklace. you saw the way she got all flustered, her delicate fingers brushing against the diamonds that reflect her coy smile,
"oh, thank you," she exclaimed, breathlessly, as if never having heard a compliment in her life, "your brother got it for me the other day. charles is very generous for such gifts." her gaze flickered to her husband, only to find him staring directly at your unsuspecting form. she swallowed back her frown, nodding her head along with the music that played behind her, "i'm sure you must be tired from your journey, eat to your heart's content and rest in the chambers right next to (y/n)'s."
your eyes darted to your sister in a look of betrayal. was she smirking at you? oh, that damned girl! after all you'd done to help her get away from charles' wrath, this was how she was going to repay you? by sending you straight into the hands of the tyrant himself? you snorted to yourself, taking a swig of the wine,
"there's a thousand other rooms in the castle, perhaps you'd like a room close to your dear brother?" you turned to arthur, "i'm sure you've missed his presence."
some of the liquid had carelessly spilled against your bosom, and you muttered a curse, hands scrambling to find your handkerchief before arthur stuck out his own with a grin, "allow me. here, you can use mine in the meantime."
as you dabbed against your chest, the white fabric soaking up the red wine, you could feel the way charles was staring intently at you from across the table, as if he'd much rather die than see his little brother catering to your every need and whim when it was supposed to be him alongside you. had he been given the chance, he would've swiped the liquid off the fabric himself, letting his palms cup the soft mounds of your breasts, squeezing the flesh and palming it grotesquely for the room to see his new little whore. or perhaps, he would've gone beyond his own expectations and dove right across the table, his tongue tracing the droplets and ripping that bodice off your body. he'd devour on your nipples, sucking harshly before letting them go with a wet pop! as his hand would dig through your skirts to find your cunt once more. he could still remember the feel of his fingers inside your wet heat, the way your body convulsed as he took what he was believed was rightfully his. your gummy walls sucking him in deeper and deeper, clenching around his digits as his lips flicked the hardened peak of your breasts over. the very visual made him shift in his seat, an action that didn't go unnoticed by you as you finally handed arthur his handkerchief back.
charles' behavior since that fateful night in his chamber had shifted; not in a good way, not in the slightest. it started the morning after when you were in the arena for a jousting tournament, a spectacle that you had always been fond of witnessing. everyone in the kingdom knew how much you loved watching the knights duel for their life, always being in the front to reward them with a handkerchief as a token of appreciation to their valiancy. when you were a bit younger, you would've snuck out into the tents behind the arena to face the knights yet to put on their jousting armor, pressing a kiss to their cheek for good luck. you had made sure none of the knights would ever truly die from their tournaments, no one would be hurt save their egos. charles had took notice of your fondness of the knights from the very day he had married your sister; he had first thought of your love for the sport as something trivial, but then he saw the way your eyes widened, your lips broken into a grin as you merrily clapped and cheered, tossing that handkerchief around as a reward for the winner. it burned his soul, and nothing could stop him from balling his hands into fists and letting the bitter essence of jealousy course through his veins.
so, that morning when he saw you avoid his gaze, your body still stiff from his assault in his bed, his eyes followed yours to the center of the arena. you were anxiously shifting in your seat, hands crumpling the handkershief with intense suspense to who the valor would be. he knew the smell of your handkerchief from afar, the same smell of your perfume and a twinge of your sweat, what made that arrogant body of yours fairly human; behind that tough exterior, you were just another woman with a juicy cunt that he intended to ruin, to devour whole and rip apart in his hands. he stepped closer to you, inhaling your scent that made his head spin with a surge of dark lust, combined with rage that he should've married you instead of your oafish sister. your eyes never once turned back to face his, too preoccupied with the jousting tournament. charles knew he needed to grab your attention, he wouldn't let you brush him under the expensive carpets you owned and so, perhaps much like a fool in love - or in this case, lust - he had exited the stands and found himself stealing the armor from one of the knights in the tent.
just as the blue knight was about to tap the white knight with the tip of his lance, in came the red knight, the feathers on his helmet bright and bold, a stark contrast to the peaceful atmosphere that the jousting tournament had given you. your hands found the edge of the barrier, your body slowly standing up from your seat to understand the twist in this game. the red knight defended against the two, wheeling his horse around and you watched the animal stand on its hind legs, a loud neigh roaring from its lips as it barrelled towards the others of its kind. in only a matter of minutes, the red knight racked up double the points that the blue knight had managed to fain in an hour. when one of the nobles standing in the side called time, you watched the fiery red feathers swoop downward as the gentleman took off his helmet, a pair of piercing green eyes staring back at you with a triumphant look that spoke volumes of revenge and darker thoughts.
"i believe i've earned your handkerchief," charles announced loudly, guiding the horse towards the box in which you sat, tugging on the reins harshly. you gulped, eyes flickering to the crowd who, no doubt at all, were witnessing this spectacle in confusion and horror as to why the duke would such a thing, especially to his wife's little sister.
"i'm a woman of my word if anything," you inhaled, sharply, handing him your handkerchief, "you have done well, grand duke leclerc, i commend you for your performance in the jousting tournament today."
Charles had a proud look on his face, pressing the cloth to his face as he inhaled the fabric, fingers tracing over the sown initials of your name. "how very thoughtful of you, princess (y/n), i'm sure you can reward me in many more ways in the future." and he immediately trotted off with the horse, leaving you shaken and in disbelief at what had just transpired in the arena.
arthur had been no different. he was just as filthy as his brother, but perhaps even worse considering that he had nothing binding him to the law. he was a proud, spiteful young man that had his eyes set on you. your father had persuaded him a year back about marrying you, and he'd be damned if you didn't end up his bride in the foreseeable future. he had followed you into the library after dinner, fingers tracing the spines of the books that you lost yourself in when your royal duties became unbearable. he was standing behind a shelf, peering through the open spaces as he stared at you,
"you are very beautiful when you are upset, you know?" he whispered, poking his head around the corner.
"flattery will get you nowhere," you slammed a book shut, shoving into the shelf before gazing through the vast collection to find another intriguing work to indulge in. he chuckled, lowly as he shook his head,
"i was not trying to flatter you, mon ange, i meant it truly, very beautiful… and very arrogant," arthur scoffed when you pushed past him. he caught hold of your hand, yanking you back closer to him. he would be a fool to say that he had never been attracted to you before, genuine attraction, not as dark and thoughtless like his brother. "come now, don't be like this. i spent every day waiting to return so i could see you again."
you scowled at his words, "and why should i care? you're nothing to me, you're just as deranged as your brother, charles! if you think that i could possibly-" your words were cut off as arthur captured your lips into a kiss, his actions only growing more fervored as his hands roamed over your body, squeezing your waist and crushing you against his firm embrace. the shelf shuddered behind you when he pressed you up against the wood, his arms hoisting your legs around his waist. he finally let your lips go, allowing you to take in a deep breath as you stared up at him in a mix of horror and reluctant curiousity.
"how disgusting and impolite of you!" you snapped, backhanding him across his face. his head whipped to the side, and you could hear the sound of a whispered 'putain!' before he turned back to face you, his eyes widening. you expected him to react with violence, to put on a tantrum that his brother would've surely done but instead he grabbed your hands firmly and maneuvered you around so that your face was pressed against the dusty surface of the shelf, wrists bound behind your back.
"you should be more grateful," arthur whispered into your ear, "because, ma belle, if it was my brother… you would've been dead before your hand even rose," and with that, he bunched your skirts up around your waist, spitting onto his fingers before slipping them between your thighs, circling your clit softly. his touch was gentle, almost reverant, a stark contrast to his brother's handling of you. you couldn't help but moan softly, your hands struggling behind your back despite arthur's words being cooed into your ear to relax. you could feel him undo his trousers behind you, the head of his cock sliding against your wet cunt, your folds parting invitingly against the flesh of his manhood, before he eventually slid himself inside, a perfect symphony of moans escaping from the both of you as he dropped his head forward, his forehead pressed against your neck as he began to move his hips.
"perfect… absolutely perfect," he moaned, his hand on your wists moving up to wrap around your throat; he didn't squeeze, but held you firmly as he forced you to arch your back farther, lips brushing against your cheek, leaving peppered kisses that reflected a man worshipping his idol, the very purpose of his existence. "you cannot tell charles this happened, he will kill me if he finds out."
you turned your head around, lips parted to ask him what he meant by that but he silenced your inquiries with his mouth once more, kissing you like a man starved of any affections, moaning against your mouth. the notes of your lustful conquest swirled around the empty library, traveling towards the door where charles stood watching you two through the tiny sliver of a crack. his jaw was clenched, his chest heaving in anger and disgust at the sight of his brother claiming you, having the audacity to place his hands on your sweet body. that lying vermin! he had promised to help charles, that was the only reason the man beckoned for his little brother to return from his studies, and yet here he was with his cock deep inside that cunt of yours. he growled to himself, storming off with murderous intent.
"second person to have slapped me today," arthur quipped later that night as he stood before his brother. charles sneered at him, raising his fist as if to strike him once more but decided against it. he closed his eyes, spinning around on his heel to calm himself down before turning back to face him,
"you're lucky that i haven't chosen to kill you after what you've done," he growled. "what did i tell you when i asked you to come back? i told you one important thing."
"that maman missed me?" arthur responded, only to earn another harsh slap from charles,
"no! you idiot!" charles bellowed, "i said keep your hands off her! she's mine, you hear me! she's mine! when this stupid kingdom burns to the ground, she will be my consort!"
"her father wants me to marry her, though!" arthur cried out, clutching his reddened face and charles grabbed him by his shoulders, giving him a harsh shake,
"and you will marry her, for the sake of keeping appearances but if you dare to try and consummate that marriage, i don't care if you're my brother, i will cut your limbs off and feed them to the dogs," charles snarled, raising his finger and jabbing his brother's chest, "you do not touch her, you won't ever touch her again after this. you hear me?"
"and what of your wife, then?" arthur grumbled, "what of the king, the queen and every other noble in this castle?"
"rot in hell for all i care," the grand duke snorted, adjusting his robes, "when they all fall before me in the future, i will have them all executed, burnt at the stake, whatever i feel like. but that girl will live, and i will make her pay for ever disrespecting me."
arthur stared at his brother, sighing before shaking his head, "you are right, i guess i got carried away. i was merely trying to earn her trust."
"there were a thousand different ways you could've done that instead of resorting to what you did in the library," charles rolled his eyes, "but we move on past this, very soon, that crown will be upon my head and she will be nothing more than a dog at my feet, stripped of her titles, her luxury and," he paused to laugh at the image in his mind, "her clothes."
arthur nodded his head before walking away; the little brother clearly not all in for the idea but as long as he was granted some luxury in the future where his brother ruled over your kingdom, he was satisfied. he knew he had no right over you, especially when charles seemed so hellbent on possessing you. charles, however, had his gaze shifting towards the balcony above to your bedroom, and he could smell the scent of your perfume even this far down on the ground.
"oh, princesse," charles cooed from below, "you will always be mine, one way or another," and it was almost like he knew that you were hiding in the balcony, having overheard every single word of his conversation with a sense of dread washing over you...
