Dark fic + - Minors DNI- if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: Lando brings home a girl that he thinks will be perfect for him, Max and Oscar but things between the three never necessarily run easily.
Themes/warnings: Smut 18+, reverse harem, kidnapping, drugging, pre-existing relationshipish - mean!Max x nonchalant!Oscar x overexcitable!Lando
Full series
Word count: 2.1k
Edit: there isn't a tag list for this guys, I don't do tag lists anymore unless it's kinktober or kinkmas. sorry :/
Y/n allowing Max to touch her made her feel uncertain of whether to feel disgusted with herself or as if he's just being a moody bitch who couldn't resist the opportunity when it was in front of him. But Lando seems very happy to replace Max as the last person to touch her pussy.
"Lando." Y/n moans as his tongue flicks against her clit, slowly edging her towards a second orgasm since he's already pulled one out of her.
Her breath is struggling to keep up with the demand of oxygen her body is begging for. She completely loses the ability to breathe, whether he body is refusing or she's just short-circuited and forgot, she's not sure but her lungs still as her back arches and her hand pulls at Lando's hair, burning his scalp a little from the tug.
"Fuck." Y/n whimpers before she releases his hair not that he immediately comes up for air as she finally feels her body finally remember to breath.
"I don't know how Max didn't take as much as he could get from you. You're addictive." Lando comments slowly moving up her body only for y/n to notice the same lingering silent figure that has been consistent around during her short stay, is yet again there. Lando turns following her gaze. "Enjoying the view, mate?"
Oscar shifts his weight from leaning on the doorway and for a moment y/n thinks he's about to leave.
"You said you want to share." Oscar states making Lando perk up.
"Oh lucky us." Lando smirks before he chuckles a little a little moving from on top of him. "She got my mouth so I'll be getting hers, but you can take care of her pussy."
Oscar seems to have no argument with that as he pulls off his clothes like it's nothing to be naked in front of Lando and even less to be naked in front of y/n. But clearly he was effected by what he'd been watching, the length of time he was watching she isn't sure but even if it wasn't long, he was likely drawn in by the sound of her moans.
Y/n can't help but wonder what would happen if Max felt compelled to join them.
"Climb on, baby." Lando whispers making her swallow looking at Oscar as he lies on the bed. Given that y/n is about to have Lando's dick in her mouth, she opts for reverse cowgirl, kneeling over Oscar's very prominent.
Oscar's hands on her waist guide her as she takes him in her hand to direct his tip to her hole. It's the first of their dicks that she's taking. Max's fingers were knee-weakening, Lando's mouth was addictive. What sort of effect is Oscar's dick going to have on her? Only one way to find out.
She begins to slide down on him, almost embarrassed with how easy it is till she remembers she's came twice just from Lando's mouth which would've helped.
"You feel so good." Oscar comments slightly breathlessly as she takes him down to his base, pausing for a few beats as Lando appears standing on the bed in front of her.
"Open those pretty lips, baby." Lando smiles clearly happy his plan is at least working to a degree. This is a step in the right direction, that's for certain and he knows that if Max touched her then he is just being stubborn because that's how Max is.
Lando's length slides between her lips, following her tongue to the back of her throat as Oscar gives her side a tap. Impatient for his own pleasure, he's not showing the side to himself that Lando knows is lurking under the surface. Which means much like Max, he's got quite the soft spot for y/n.
Either that or he's just not wanting to scare her off the bat, which is understandable given her experience so far. Oscar isn't the type to control by fear like Max.
Y/n begins to lift herself, whining around Lando's length as he gathers her hair into one hand pushing her a little further onto his length while she bounces up and down, riding Oscar in the most glorious way.
When she hears the two moan in unison over two different sensations but both as a result of her body, she can't help but feel motivated on by the two.
"You feel fucking incredible." Oscar comments with a grunt hands on her waist aiding her movements and somewhat forcing her to take him deeper with each thrust.
All three get lost in the feeling of each other, y/n not being able to decide between what is making her feel better which is saying something because usually the obvious answer would be that it's Oscar because he's in pussy hitting every stomach that makes her stomach tense and her hips grind down.
But the feeling of Lando hitting her throat is making her eyes roll back in pleasure. They're doing something to her and she doesn't know if the fear and instinct to run will even exist after this.
"Almost there gorgeous." Lando groans holding himself in her throat just a bit longer than his previous thrusts before continue with his thrusts in a steady rhythm.
Oscar's dick is perfectly filling her, pressing into her g-spot while she feels herself twitching, impossibly close to her orgasm. She's on the edge when the feeling of Lando's dick twitching and spilling down into her throat pushes her over, she drops down on Oscar, feeling him poke into her cervix.
"Fuck." Oscar groans as she feels a new heat fill her as his hands press even further into her hips somehow pushing even deeper which almost makes her tip back but Lando is still holding her down on his dick.
Lando eventually pulls out leaving her coughing a little before she sighs as he sits down in front of her pulling her forward into a kiss that she melts into.
"Next time, we'll have Max here to get involved." Lando states then looking over her shoulder at his teammate while Oscar hums and nods.
Y/n swallows as she sits up onto her knees as Lando mumbles something about water then pulling on some shorts from the floor and disappearing while y/n moves to lie down next to Oscar, not even caring that she's leaking back onto the sheets.
"Are you ok?" Oscar asks since she's not said a word and she's just staring blankly at the ceiling.
"I'm great. Just...torn-not literally. I mean-"
"I get it." Oscar smiles making her turn her head. "Are you worried about Max?"
"I don't understand him...he touches me like that then he acts like he hates me." I didn't ask to be here. The words go unspoken but they linger in the air.
"Alright, water for you." Lando states reappearing with a glass of water and straw. "Oscar. Aftercare exists and I'm not cleaning up your half of the mess."
Y/n can't help but smile when Oscar nods he stands up pulling on the shorts he'd taken off when joining them but he does something that surprises y/n and Lando. He leans a hand onto the bed, his other hand moving to grip at her throat as he turns her head to lean into a heavy kiss that makes her pulse skyrocket under his touch.
But sadly the kiss is much more short lived than she would like and he seems to know it when he pulls back with a small smirk.
"I'll be right back." Oscar promises before disappearing while y/n feels her chest flutter before she looks back at Lando while he has his own smirk.
"Drinks." He instructs making her part her lips allowing hi to place the straw between them.
Maybe she could kind of get used to this. Even if Max is still proving to be a hurdle, surely if he's willing to touch her with no actual pleasure to himself, then he must have some sort of acceptance of her.
"Don't think about him, he'll come around. It's probably eating away at him that he was the only one not involved." Lando states seeming to read her mind. "Are you ok?"
"I'm good." Y/n confirms before she sighs. "I'm a little hungry."
-
Y/n sits on the sofa with Lando, both of them out of frame of Max's simulator camera.
"Will you be alright staying here?" Lando asks since they've proven that there may be progress in the bedroom but she's still not trusted beyond the apartment. Which is an issue because both Lando and Oscar have been summoned to MTC.
"Mhm." Y/n nods though she has her doubts and clearly so does Lando.
"Max." Lando calls making Max mute his mic and turn to look at the Brit to show he's listening despite looking incredibly annoyed that he's been interrupted. "We're leaving, be nice and don't touch without us around again. You want that luxury, you make sure we're here."
Max actually stands up and moves towards y/n, not so much as sparing Lando a glance as he picks her up like she's about the weight of a feather, managing to force her legs up around his waist as his lips aggressively press against hers.
She almost feels like he's stealing the hair from her lungs, and the force of him actually makes her try and press her thighs together with a wave of need hitting her. He doesn't let up for almost a minute, uncaring of Redline as he seems to get lost in it before finally breaking it. He seems to stare at her caught in the moment before he gently lets her down.
He turns sharply suddenly and looks at Lando while y/n follows his gaze also spotting Oscar lurking in the background watching with a passive expression but there's clearly interest in his gaze over what's going on.
"You bring her here for us all, I'll touch her whenever I like. You might want to take care of that before you leave." Max states looking down while Lando huffs not enjoying being shown up for who is in control.
It's fairly obvious that it's not him. In fact y/n is beginning to think that of the three he holds the least control and power in the dynamic. Even though he was the one to force her upon on the others. It seems that Max is the one who allowed her to stay and if he'd really put his foot down then she has a feeling she wouldn't be here.
"You should say goodbye." Max states looking back at y/n who looks up at him and while he wouldn't admit it, it takes everything in him to not repeat his actions.
Max moves back to his sim without a second of hesitation while y/n looks at Lando who watches the Dutchman with a frown before holding his hand out for y/n and she shifts forward.
"We'll be back in 2 days. If he acts too much like a dick, steal his phone and call one of us." Lando instructs making her nod and give a smile. "You ok? You look like he just shook your world."
"Maybe a little."
"Good." Lando smirks then kissing her much more softly. "Maybe when we're back he'll have stopped being so stubborn."
"I can still hear you." Max comments from his set up.
Oscar moves over to y/n smiling as Lando squeezes her in a final hug before he passes her to the Aussie.
"That was impressive." Oscar hums quietly as he seems to check Max's headset is back on and when he speaks into the mic. "You look a bit flustered."
"Stop it." Y/n mumbles making him smile.
"We'll see you soon." Oscar promises leaning down with his hand moving up to her throat again as he directs her into a kiss.
She's noticed that he likes to do that, but he moves back and looks over at Lando who seems to have his hand down his shorts to adjust himself.
"Be good." Lando calls out before they pick up their bags and as soon as the door closes she sighs looking at Max who ignores her like he'd never got up from the sim and just made her throb with the thought of what else he is capable of.
Or specifically how it would feel to finally have all three.
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…
Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader
Warnings : obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n
Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn't expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends...
Moth's prophecy 💡 : Your favorite omen of doom & cringe is baaaack ! I wanted to give a special thanks to all the precious cryptids who have asked for the part three for literal weeks, always staying patient, nice, and sending messages so sweet I rot my teeth on them and made a collection of screenshots in my notes to motivate me. I never thought anyone would like my writing, let alone wait for it, so thank you. Y’all are my lights. On the subject of Better kind of best friend, a fourth part was not planned at first, but will make the ending smoother, so I’m sorry, this is not the end yet ! For those just discovering the series, you can find part one here and part two here, or in in the masterlist ! Enjoy !
“Ah per favore… Tell me you’re not dressing up like that for her.”
“Ah please, tell me you’re not giving your opinion when no one asked for it.” Chiara popped her tongue at your cold answer, and stayed in the opening of your door, clearly judging you.
You had been going through your closet for about an hour now, and the floor seemed to only disappear more and more under the layers of clothes thrown onto it carelessly. Nothing seemed good enough, partly because you had no idea what to expect for the evening, and mostly because no matter how much you refused to admit it, Chiara was right. You wanted to look pretty for someone else than yourself. For two people exactly. The thought of how quick you had thrown away all of your big principles when faced with fluttering eyelashes and pink cheeks almost made you sick.
Yet when they both got up from the table, Alex running to your arms with a smile and Charles blushing, eyeing you up and down, you thought that Chiara should just shut up once in a while. This was too good to not enjoy.
And you had promised yourself this would not be the same this time. They were your friends, they were dating, and you would keep a healthy relationship with both of them. But then Alexandra softly kissed your cheeks, and took your hand in hers. You would limit any type of confusing physical touch, and make sure to not give in to sweet pet names. But then she led you to Charles, who put his hand, much bigger and more calloused than his girlfriend’s, on your waist, and brought you closer to greet you. You would not let your fantasies take over facts, and you would keep all communication clear and honest to ensure your best friend stayed exactly that. A best friend. But then he told you you were gorgeous, and she giggled while still holding your hand, and they had your favorite drink already on the table, and suddenly you forgot everything you had told yourself in the mirror while getting ready. Surely it would come back to you if it was that important. Right ?
Back to you it came, in the form of Alex’s gorgeous friend and one of your workshop colleague, Luca. Almost falling on you as you exited the bathroom, he seemed like he had had one too many drinks already, and didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.
“Oh mais regarde toi, quelle beauté !” He grabbed at your waist and kissed your cheeks, blabbering on and on in French about your makeup and outfit. “Who are you trying to impress by looking so gorgeous, babe ?”
You chuckled and pretended he was wrong, but could not help and steal a glance. Of course you wanted to impress them, what a joke to pretend you did not care. Why for, even you had no idea, but you knew you would be satisfied as long as they kept their eyes on you. Which they had stopped doing for a while now, seeing as they were cuddled up on one of the couches, Alexandra sitting on Charles’ lap, hands in his hair, while he peppered her neck and shoulder with soft kisses. You could hear her giggles from afar, smell his shampoo, or maybe you just knew them too well for your own good.
You knew you were staring, knew Luca would be quick to catch on to what was happening if you did not get a hold of yourself, but it seemed that even the music and lights had faded in favor of the scene in front of you. It was hypnotizing, seeing her give in, seeing him take charge, knowing in your heart you should be there but never would be. Cheeks heating up, you turned back to Luca.
“I actually wouldn’t mind some company, if anyone here shares your opinion tonight.” Beaming, he hooked his arm with yours and took you straight to the bar to get a refill, which would inevitably end up spilled on the floor when he made you dance until you saw stars.
You don’t know how long you had danced for when he came to you. Hands sliding down your waist to your hips, his hot breath making the hairs on your neck dress up, you did not look up. You knew it wasn’t him. Because you knew how his hands felt from that one time he caught you from falling, because no man in their right mind would dance that way with their girlfriend’s friend in a crowded club, because it would never be your neck he buries his face in. But just for a few seconds, maybe minutes, you caught yourself hoping it was true, dreaming you would turn around and get a glimpse of green eyes before his lips crashed into yours. But the eyes were dark, the hair too blonde, the hands too soft. And yet you still let him kiss you, and when his slim fingers brought your dress higher on your buttcheeks, you even moaned in his mouth. Desperate was an understatement at this point.
“I’m going to put my fist so far up his ass he’ll be lucky if…” Alex’s sentence was cut short by Charles’ hand slamming against her face, flashing an apologetic smile to the friends they were chatting with and dragging her away. “Who even is that ? I’m going to get a bouncer to kick him out.” Charles had to tighten the grip on his arm to finally get her to look at him.
“Calm. Down.” This seemed to only piss her off more, but before she could start another rant, this time aimed at her boyfriend, he grabbed her by the neck and kissed her, giving him the advantage of surprise to then speak in her ear. “I know. But love, just look around you. At least half of this party knows us. I’m not sure punching a guy flirting with…” Unsure of how to call you to appease Alex, he opted for simplicity. “Y/N, and making a scene like a jealous wife is the best way to get her back.”
She sighed, head rubbing against the palm of his hand, before raising her doe eyes at him. “Then do it, Charles.” Getting closer to him, Alexandra brought her lips to his, her breath intoxicating like syrupy almonds. “Everyone knows you. Everyone loves you. Who would even dare to say something to Mr. Golden Boy.” Fluttering her eyelashes, she knew exactly how to get him. Sweet as honey, sharp as glass. “Why don’t you be a good boy and go fetch her for me, hm Charlie ?” He only managed to nod pathetically, his whole body aching to get on his knees and have her sit on his face.
The tension in his muscles was still present by the time he got to the bar stool where you were sitting, and he thought he might actually end up smashing the guy’s face against the counter. You were laughing like he had never heard before, the kind of sultry giggles that belonged to cab rides and hotel hallways, only an invitation for the hand already sat on your thigh to go up further. He barely had time to think of consequences, and you to realize he was standing behind you, before his hand fell to the guy’s shoulder, and he started speaking in his ear. The music was too loud, you were getting really drunk, so when the man’s eyes got wide, and he apologized before leaving in a hurry, you were unable to guess what Charles could have told him.
“I’m sorry, doll…” It wasn’t the first time he called you that, yet everytime it left your heart pulsing, and your core aching for more. You felt your legs wobble as he slid between them. “Seems he wasn’t interested in much more than a quick fling.” His fingers ran up your thigh and you almost fell the dig of a nail, before he took the hem of your dress and brought it back down to its usual length. The exhale that came out of your mouth felt like the first one in hours. “And you’re worth more than quick, aren’t you ?” At this moment, no, you weren’t worth more than that, you were yearning for someone to take your mind off the shitshow that was your heart, even if it meant bending over a bathroom sink for any nameless guy. But you smiled through the shivers and thanked him, even daring to put your hand on his. Everything was spinning, your ears were ringing, but he was smiling back at you, so maybe this evening wasn’t so bad. “Party’s over, let’s go home, doll.”
On the way back, Alex sat in the front of the car, but kept her hand on your knee the whole way, tracing small circles on your exposed skin. It almost seemed to you that with every sharp breath you took, you saw her smile in the car’s mirrors, but you fell asleep without being sure.
Even Charles was annoyed now. Maybe he could buy you a leash, make sure you were never straying too far. A tag too, so that you wouldn’t get lost. One with his name etched into the metal, just so there’d be no doubt. Just so that everyone knew who you belonged to. Would you be good ? Obedient ? He barely managed to get back to reality before his face got as red as his suit. Knee bouncing restlessly, his eyes were unable to leave you, bent over his car as a mechanic showed you his seat. If he could see you, it meant everyone could. And that was starting to get on his nerves.
“Sorry I found a pretty one” Alex whispered, sliding up behind him, her voice a low hum of amusement against his ear. “Sometimes I wish I could lock her up too…”
“I mean you could.” Charles knew he was fucking up. The words had tumbled out before he could stop himself, the implication behind heavy with something he would not dare to name. He knew his girlfriend had been teetering on the edge lately, and that any idea fueling her possessiveness would be considered, no matter how immoral. He knew he was supposed to be the voice of reason. Your soft way back to her, to them. Like the web to the spider. But this new mechanic he was definitely going to get fired was now making you try a headset, and he was playing with your hair, and the image of you getting yanked back to his feet was taking too much place in his brain. So when Alexandra stared at him, he simply shrugged, surrendering. “I don’t want her to stray too far when I’m on track. Who knows what could happen to her.”
When the free practice started, and Alexandra sent you to get her painkillers from the “infirmary”, you didn’t know what you were getting into. As the door locked behind you in the small storage room, you became painfully aware that you had no idea how this world worked. You had followed her instructions blindly, not really knowing anyone, and not wanting to cause trouble. And now you were banging on the door, feeling the air slowly get out of your lungs as the panic took over your body. There wasn’t any light in the room, and you could faintly hear the rumbles of the cars in the distance. Everyone was probably busy either watching or working on the track. No one would hear you scream, yet you begged for help with every bit of energy left in you.
Claustrophobia had been the fear you never got over. Taking stairs rather than elevators and walking over crowded buses, you had mostly managed on your own. But there you were, stuck in what seemed smaller than your bathroom at the residency, wondering if you were about to suffocate to death between tyre blankets and wires in Abu Dhabi. Charles had told you the practices lasted about an hour. But would you ? And even if your lungs hadn’t burnt from the thick air then, would someone find you right away ? Who could even come to look for you, in such a foreign place, with no friends other than two of the busiest people there could be this weekend ? Tears streaming down your face, you found yourself wishing you had never left their side. Maybe that would have been childish, but you would have been safe.
“Y/N ? Y/N are you in there ?” Anywhere in the world you would have recognized this voice. The only one that would understand your pain because she knew your fears. You screamed her name and heard rustling in the hallway. For a second when the door opened, she stood bathed in the clinical white lights, and you thought you had died. No angel would ever come close to such a vision. “Y/N ! Mon chou come here oh my god” She fell to her knees, opening her arms, and it felt like coming home. To hell with the physical distance, to hell with the principles. She had found you. She had saved you. Your head in her neck and her hands in your hair, you tightened your arms against her even when she gasped, but pulled you even closer. The tears falling down on your cheeks weren’t yours only, and you could barely make out what she was saying.
When the buzzing in your ears finally calmed down, she had cupped your face, whispering inches away from it. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you you’re safe. Please don’t leave me anymore. Please please please Y/N I beg you I got so scared, you weren’t coming back and I thought something had happened to you, it’s not safe here.” Rubbing your cheek with her thumb, she even kissed repeatedly your forehead as you could only nod, still crying. “Stay by my side, please never do that again. I thought I had lost you, I thought…”
You said yes, over and over again, apologizing as if it had been your fault, promising to be good like a prayer to a benevolent deity.
When Charles got out of the car and saw you holding Alex’s hand, your whole body twitching while she was beaming, he could not help but smirk. On a counter next to his phone, the keys to one of the storage rooms sat innocently, gleaming under the lights.
The weeks following the incident felt like a blur, as if your mind was slowly sinking into the mist of December mornings, and the last of your independence with it. Wherever you turned, Alexandra’s warmth and Charles’s steady hands were there, lingering at the edge of your vision, too close to be a coincidence.
But it was too comforting to not bathe in it. Your mind kept on replaying the moment your friend had found you in the storage room so many times it became a mantra, a balm to soothe the fear that still clawed at your thoughts at night. She found you. She saved you. She would never leave you. Charles too, after making a scene at the race and demanding the lack of safety in the infrastructure to be investigated, had made a point of shielding you from anything he deemed not safe. Which now that you were back in Monaco, seemed to be everything and everyone. You caught him glaring more than once at strangers, his body always carefully sliding between you and anyone who got too close.
Yet you had also been witness to the ugly side of fame since, the shadows it casted and the vultures it attracted, and trusted them to keep you away from it. All celebrities seemed to like their private life to stay, well… Private, and so when he brushed a stray hair from your face and told you he wouldn’t let any creep bother his dear friend, you believed him.
And truth be told, you loved the attention. That’s what you wished for, all you ever wanted, you told yourself as Alex braided your hair on the couch of the residency, Charles scrolling on his phone, his knee brushing absent-mindedly against yours. It was sweet, how they cared so much. Your roommates had given up on understanding, as long as the mood was not as icy as it had been the past month, they were fine with pretending nothing had ever happened. Life itself seemed to be so much easier with just them anyway. Why bother looking elsewhere, for what even ?
“I thought you were really cute, and I just wanted to give you my number, if you ever wanna go on a date.” The French accent snapped you out of your thoughts, and you nodded, blushing, as the barista winked at you. Your gaze immediately darted to the side, as if they’d be standing there, watching. But you had come alone, like stepping outside without a coat, not sure how you were now feeling about the decision. No matter what, it seemed their presence clung to you like a second skin.
They weren’t stopping you from dating, or making friends out of the internship. But it had been a while since you had thought about anyone else in that manner, and stepping out of the comfortable bubble you had built around the three of you now seemed like such an effort, on top of being scary. A voice in your head, your voice probably, even though it sounded too much like Alexandra’s, always ended up whispering : What else do you need that you don’t already have ?
The barista’s number scribbled on a napkin stayed untouched in your bag. Charles’ eyes had lingered too long on your phone screen one night, and when you mentioned in passing the way the uber driver had complimented your makeup, Alex had tilted her head just slightly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, her tongue brushing faintly against her canine. But they laughed it off, and you laughed with them, sinking into a soft net that felt more silk than cloud.
Had you been more careful, maybe you would have seen the signs. The way stuff in your bedroom seemed to change places, or even disappear. The deleted messages sent from your own phone, asking to be left alone, confirming you weren’t interested. The delicate touch of a hand on your arm, the oh-so-French kiss on the cheeks you always seemed to receive whenever a flirtatious wink was sent your way. But you had missed her, and you liked him so much, and for nothing in the world you would go back to a world where those weren’t your best friends. No matter how hard it was to fall asleep picturing them running their hands further than morality authorized.
As you lingered by Marco’s door, his bed still a wreck even though he had left a week ago, you couldn’t help but sigh. The house was so quiet, barely troubled by the faint swirl of wind in the garden. You thought you would like it this way. Even though it had been fun, living with seven other art students had been… Messy. Now everyone had gone home, and there was no need for fighting over the thermostat or Sunday mornings rush to get groceries anymore. Only the handmade decorations were left behind, like ghosts of their absence.
You couldn’t explain to yourself why you had resisted going home. On the phone with your mother, you had brushed it off with excuses about the time-consuming art pieces, the flights, and how it would be easier to stay. But when the clock struck midnight on the 22, and the thought of waking up alone for the next few days clawed at your chest, you booked the next available flight. You’d surprise your family. Sitting at the table and laughing at their jokes and going for a walk after lunch. You’d come home.
The morning of the 24th greeted you with hope, and then a storm. Nice’s airport’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crowd’s disappointed faces as flight after flight turned red on the departure boards. You tried to stay calm, fiddling with a trinket tied to your bag, but when the announcement came that no flights would leave until the storm cleared, something inside you cracked. You were stuck. Not home. Not Monaco.
You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over Alexandra’s contact. You hadn’t told them you were leaving, hadn’t wanted to explain why the urge to run away, and why you were now desperately crawling back. The empty airport felt like punishment, and your fingers moved before you could second-guess yourself. Faced with her warm voice, the words tumbled out on their own. The storm. The canceled flights. The panic of the crowd slowly but surely spreading to you.
“You stay there, we’re coming to get you”. You barely had time to protest before the call ended.
When their car pulled up outside the terminal, the storm still raged, rain lashing against the windshield as Charles parked. Alex hopped out, an umbrella barely covering her as she ran to you, her sparkly short dress illuminating the pavement. “Oh, mon chou, you must be freezing,” she cooed, wrapping her coat around your shoulders and guiding you to the car.
Charles was waiting, heater blasting, his smile soft as he looked back at you from the driver’s seat. “You should’ve told us you were leaving,” he said, a hint of reproach softened by his tone.
You shrugged, sinking into the warmth of the car. “It was a last-minute thing.”
Alexandra clicked her tongue, clearly disapproving, as she slid in beside you. “At least you have your bag ready.” You barely had time to register what was happening as you saw Charles type in an address that was definitely not the residency. Before you could ask, his eyes met yours in the mirror.
“You’re not spending Christmas alone, doll. I called my mom on the way, so I hope you like oysters.” He broke eye contact as you opened your mouth to protest, his voice much lower, daring you to defy him. “Don’t argue with me, it’s already settled.”
Their idea of Christmas was something out of a dream. Charles’ family home in Monaco was decked out in soft lights and greenery, the smell of mulled wine and myriads of meals filling every corner. His family welcomed you with open arms, and Alexandra’s parents, who had joined as well, treated you with the delicate attention of pretending like your presence had always been planned.
The day went on as if you were stuck in the flow of a warm river, feeling the deep call you but unable to move a muscle to swim against it. You hadn’t been allowed to lift a finger, Charles steering you away from the kitchen when you offered to help, pressing a glass of wine in your hand instead. “Absolutely not. You’re a guest, Y/N. Relax.”
Everytime someone asked how you were enjoying the day, one of them was always quick to describe how “special” it was to have you here, and how glad they were to finally be able to introduce you. Their attention was always on you, always ready for any request you might have. What had become a natural habit, developing over the last few weeks, was now exacerbated under the glimmering lights, and the Christmas tree seemed to wink at you, knowingly, as if it was in on whatever elaborate spectacle Charles and Alexandra had orchestrated. Their care was overbearing but left no room for complaint. By the time dessert was served, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. An intricate figurine in a glass case, too precious to touch but constantly on display. Anytime Charles called for his doll, you got dizzier.
When everyone gathered around the fireplace to open their gifts, the cook gave you a knowing look and gestured at another glass of wine left on the kitchen counter, before swiftly exiting the room. You gladly took it and observed from afar the parade of extravagance. Designer clothes, limited-edition art pieces, concerts tickets in another country. If you thought your own Christmases back home were lavish, it was no comparison to the Leclerc’s.
“Here, mon chou.” Alexandra purred, pressing a carefully wrapped small box in your hand. “We planned on giving it to you next week but now’s even better.”
You hesitated, feeling your cheeks heat up as everyone turned to you. This was not planned. You did not have time to get either of them anything, even less their families. It all felt like a show you had never agreed on being a part of. “You really didn’t have to-”
“Open it.” Charles interrupted, his grin infuriating, dimples bigger than ever. He lounged back on the sofa, one ankle resting casually on his knee, his gaze fixed on you. With a brush of his hands, he pretended to swish away your worries. “We’ll go and change it if you don’t like it”.
The box revealed a delicate bracelet, platinum with tiny diamonds winking along its length. Sucking in a breath, you felt their eyes on you, expectant, hungry for your reaction. “It’s pretty, no ?” Alexandra’s voice was eager, her fingers brushing yours as she took the bracelet to clasp it around your wrist. It was too much. The alcohol made your head pound and you felt like throwing up. Raising your eyes, the guilt hit you like a wave. They had done so much for you, gone out of their way to include you, and you couldn’t even summon the gratitude they deserved ? The metal was biting into your skin as if in reprimand, your whole body feeling like fire since you had finished your glass. Taking a deep breath, you excused yourself to “freshen up”.
The low hum of voices faded as you found a quiet room in the labyrinth that was the house. This is what you’d always wanted, wasn’t it ? To be cared for, adored, treated like the most important person in the room ? Then why did it feel too much ? Why did it feel like drowning ? You thought back to October, and quickly recognized the signs of your love barging through the door, demanding the best place at the table. You couldn’t let either of them know you were back on your stupid feelings, or they would leave you again. And then ? You had seen the pain, for everyone involved. Good friends. Best friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. You exhaled, praying for your thoughts to shut up, concentrating on the wind outside.
It was Charles that came for you, sitting carefully next to you on the bed, as though you might shatter if he moved an inch wrong. Turning away from the frosted window, you murmured. “Just needed a breather.”
“I’m sorry.” Before you even had time to ask what for, he sighed, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “For all of this. We just wanted to make you feel welcome but… It’s obviously not working.” Running a hand through his hair, betraying his frustration, his other one went tentatively to yours, and your fingers laced together. “I can see you’re not enjoying this, and I know it will never be the same as being with your family.”
“Charles, I don’t-”
“I can arrange a plane.” He was rambling on, a habit they seemed to share, and in the soft light of the moon, you could swear his eyes were red. “First thing in the morning, have you be home before lunch. We love having you here, doll, but… I think it might have been selfish of us.” There. You had made him sad. He had made you feel like family and you had fled like a spoiled child. If anyone was selfish here, it was you.
“No !” You blurted, the word too loud, startling even yourself. Moving towards him on instinct, you threw yourself in his arms, hands gripping to his back, fingers curling against the smooth fabric of his sweater. He tilted his head, questioning, but you only buried your face against his chest. “I… I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed ungrateful. I didn’t mean to. It’s not too much, you’re not too much. You could never be. I’ll try harder, I’ll appreciate it more, I’m sorry I-” It seemed the habit had also infected you, and your monologue was stopped by Charles’ thumb brushing against your bottom lip.
“Shhh” The hand that was in your back went up to your head, softly rubbing your hair, as you lost yourself in his eyes. Were those freckles or just beauty spots ? Had those always been here ? You felt tempted to touch them but froze up when your lips opened up on instinct. Seriously, how many drinks did you have ? “You don’t have to apologize. I just want you to feel welcomed and… Appreciated.” The moment stretched, world narrowing to the warmth of his arms and the pulse of your heart as he opened your mouth even more and slid his thumb past your lips, your teeth, and to rest against your tongue. “And loved.” His gaze was fixated on your lips, and for a brief moment, until footsteps were heard in the hallway, you thought he was going to kiss you, or maybe slap you. You wouldn’t have protested either.
His lips went to brush softly against your forehead, and it took every last ounce of self-control in you to not bite down on his thumb as he took it out of your mouth. His fingers traced down your cheek, your jaw, down to your neck, where he softly closed his fingers around your throat as the moan that had been stuck in there was finally let free. You wanted this moment to last forever, almost wished he would choke you out so you would never have to go back to reality. But something snapped suddenly in his eyes, and he ruffled at your hair before standing up with a confidence that made you question if the moment had truly happened, or if the cook had spiked your drink. In the white light of the night, his finger shined briefly with saliva, and you followed him back to the living room like a dog who had gotten the sweetest treat.
The floor length mirror stared back at you, unkind in its honesty. You leaned in as Alexandra gently titled your chin up with her fingertips, her voice humming as she added the finishing touches to your makeup. The sharpness of your features seemed amplified under their bedroom golden light, and your reflection felt foreign. Maybe it was the week, and its endless swirl of champagne, parties, and faces you couldn’t remember. Or maybe it was the memory of Christmas Eve, and its almost-kiss which kept replaying in your mind like a broken record you didn’t have the strength to discard.
Charles hadn’t mentioned it. Not a word. The morning after, his smile came on as easy as ever, his voice smooth and jokes easy, as if nothing had happened. Alex had thrown herself onto him, bathing him in affection, as though your world hadn’t turned upside down in that hidden room. Even now, as his hands brushed against your shoulders, slipping the straps of your too-short dress into place, you were wondering if you hadn’t dreamed it all.
“Stop squirming” He teased, smoothing out the fabric and pulling up the zipper.
Alexandra laughed and stepped back to inspect her work, two fingers still holding your chin. “She’s not squirming, she’s just nervous.”
“Il y a pas de quoi être stressé, c’est le Nouvel An, pas une gardav’ non plus…” Not understanding the slang, you copied your friend’s reaction, and as she clicked her tongue, you rolled your eyes.
You felt like an imposter. How could you have let it get this far ? You were supposed to go back to being friends, that was the deal. Not over complicating things, not pushing boundaries of what they were giving you. But then every time one of their friends got curious about you, Alexandra would say you were “Just someone special”, her casual voice contrasting with her nails scratching on your thigh. Her eyes would flicker, the kind that warned you not to correct her, and you let yourself get locked up in this almost-relationship that you had so desperately tried to escape a few weeks before.
Reaching for the curling iron, she murmured, more observation than question. “You’ve been quiet today.”
“Just tired, I guess… We’ve gone out a lot this week.” You forced a laugh, aiming for nonchalance, but Charles simply raised a brow, not impressed.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can just stay there, order some food, …”
You cut him off by twirling on yourself, the dress flaring so high it couldn’t have been conceived to cover anything. Alexandra groaned and caught you by the shoulders to steady you, apparently not satisfied with your curls. “When I look like that ? It would be such a waste !” The green-eyed boy chuckled and nodded in agreement. Dressed to perfection, your hair soft and shining, you looked exactly like what they wanted you to be : a doll. And truth be told, you enjoyed it. When he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and they both looked at you with something that could be pride, you knew you owed it to them to have fun, at least tonight, at least the following months. At least until England called you back and you answered, leaving your summer love to rest on the green hills. You owed it to them to pretend you weren’t haunted by the ghost of “almost”, and maybe you could even pretend long enough to end up believing it yourself.
“Close it, you’re going to swallow a fly.” Charles pushed softly on your chin to close your mouth you had left wide in awe, before rubbing the nape of his neck. “Much funnier in French…” He mumbled before leaving his keys to a valet, and opening the way for you and Alexandra. The mansion was huge, its garden spilling to the edge of the woods behind it, and the music pulsing through the air carried promises of a night you might not remember in the morning.
It seemed everyone who knew a Formula 1 driver, directly or indirectly, had been invited. Some faces you recognized, but most not, and the shower of compliments you found yourself in as soon as you stepped foot in the main living room quickly felt suffocating. The polite flirting made you feel uneasy, their admiration like scrutiny, and before you even had time to cling to your anchors, they drifted away. “I’ll be right back, chou.” Charles’ hand brushed briefly against yours before he followed his girlfriend to go greet some friends, and you stayed right where they left you.
No matter how much you repeated your internal calming mantra, the vulnerability was creeping in. There were too many people you didn't know, and so you made it a mission to not lose again the only two that mattered. When they asked if you were having fun, you nodded, the lie automatic. For the following hours, it turned to truth, as you stuck close to them like a guard dog unwilling to stray too far from its leash. If Charles moved to refill a drink, you downed yours too quickly to follow. If Alexandra drifted to another conversation, your hand clung to her elbow, begging to tag along. You weren’t proud of it, but the dread clawed at your chest every time you stood alone for more than a heartbeat. You were enjoying yourself as long as you weren’t left to your own devices. Long gone was the resolution of making new friends, it seemed.
The air in the house had been filled with tension as midnight approached, and you felt like you had suddenly woken up. A glass of something golden in your hand, its fizz long forgotten, you were nodding along to Pierre’s story about an incident on a recent trip, while his girlfriend Kika hung onto his arm, punctuating his tale with playful jabs. You tried to listen, you really did, but something was missing, and you couldn’t help but give in to the voices bothering your every thought as he wrapped up his story.
“Have you seen Charles ? Or Alex…?”
Kika’s lips curled, mischief in her eyes, and she exchanged a look with Pierre who chuckled. “They’ve probably gone to enjoy the view, as usual.”
“Top floor,” Kika added, still giggling as she sipped her cocktail. “There’s a balcony up there that’s quite… Private.”
Mumbling a quick excuse, you set your glass down and slipped away, through the maze of guests and corridors of the sprawling mansion. The thud in your ears was soon more heartbeat than music, the knot in your stomach tightening between unease and anticipation. When you reached the top floor, the door to the bedroom was ajar, dim light coming from within and spilling onto the hallway. You closed it behind you, breath stuck in your throat.
There they were. Alexandra’s back was pressed against the railing, her sequined dress shimmering in the moonlight as Charles leaned into her. His hands rested on either side of her waist, fingers curling possessively over the iron, as he brought one knee up between her legs, silencing her laugh. He was working down her throat when she opened her mouth, eyes fixed on you, but did not stop kissing and biting, seemingly not caring.
“Oh darling, caught us” She purred, her voice thick with amusement. Her manicured finger pointed at you before curling, inviting you to come closer. You should not. You should flee. This was not your moment, it would never be. Also, you should keep a closer eye on your drinks because someone was definitely having fun drugging you lately, no way any of this was true. But your feet moved before your brain was done having a panic attack, and you found yourself gently pushed in the woman’s arms by Charles.
She probably saw your eyes jumping from one to the other, thoughts racing behind them at light speed, and with each hand on your cheeks, centered you back to her face. This felt like deja-vu, your lips so close, your perfume swirling together, like the wish you had screamed to the moon that night was finally becoming true, only a few months too late.
“I’m sorry.” Oh no. Oh not again. You were about to jump out of her embrace when you felt his body behind yours, closing back on both of you as his hands caught on the guardrail once more. “Stay. Please.” Not like you had much of a choice anyway. Charles was looking down at the garden over her shoulder, badly pretending as if he wasn’t inches away from the most private conversation happening tonight. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what was going on between us. And I’m sorry I hurt you in the process. You deserve the world, not any of the mess I put you through. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.” She was already forgiven, how could she not when her apologies were whispered between your lips. “But I know where I stand now. And if you allow me, I’ll never give you less than the world. Because that’s what you deserve. Because you love me and I love you.”
“Ten !” Charles took a step to the side as the screams from downstairs echoed through the whole house. He leaned on the balcony, and you almost fell to the floor from the shaking in your legs. “Nine !” She caught you by the waist and pulled you back to her with a laugh, one so hesitant it could only be filled with honesty.
“Eight !” You were dreaming. You wanted to punch yourself to wake up, but without even knowing how, your hands had gone up to her arms, shoulders, neck, cheek. “Seven !” You had promised yourself, you had promised her, and Chiara, and the world itself, that you would be fine being just friends. “Six !” Why was she the one ruining all of your efforts ? Why was she still the one you would wait for, when everyone else was long gone ?
“Five !” Was Charles just going to stand there, and pretend like his girlfriend didn’t confess to someone else ? “Four !” Maybe they had talked ? Maybe they had been open this whole time and you hadn’t seen the signs ? Would he kiss you too ? “Three !”
You cupped her cheeks and it felt like the world exploded when your lips met. Or maybe it was just the fireworks. Maybe it was the culmination of months of pining, love and pain, that was giving her kiss a taste of blood, a taste of more. She switched your places, pinning you against the barrier and deepened the kiss as your hands tugged at her hair, undoing the curls she had so carefully crafted. Everyone was screaming for the New Year, but you felt like they were doing it for you. Is that how it felt, to love and be loved ? Like you would rather run out of oxygen than end the moment. Like teeths and tongues, being fourteen and messy all over again. Like a movie-worthy compilation of every smile she had flashed you for the last four months was playing behind your closed eyes.
When you opened them, her mouth now running wild on your jaw, it’s a green spark of amusement that was looking back at you, a slow whistle coming out of his dry lips. Shit. You had kissed his girlfriend. Or his girlfriend had kissed you. And he wasn’t moving to join in. Were you about to be thrown from the highest balcony in some sick kind of real-life Cluedo ? But he simply brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and the small caress he gave to Alexandra’s back made her moan against your collarbones. “Les clés sont sur la porte mon amour.” She mumbled what you understood to be thank you, not sure why for, as he moved towards the door.
“Wait Charlie I’m…” It was difficult to talk with Alex, determined to kiss every inch of visible skin on your body, and there was a lot. “I’m sorry I… What’s happening ?” You could only hope they had not broken up, not because of you, yet you saw no world in which this situation would be acceptable for him. With his usual playful grin you had grown so fond of, he winked at you before exiting the room swiftly.
“There’s a time for actions, and a time for explanations. Happy New Year, doll.”
With every step that she took you followed, painfully aware of how much she knew you, much better than you would have thought. Kissing in all the right places, her grin was getting wider every time you winced under the dig of her sharp nails, and she hushed you as if the drunken screams downstairs weren’t covering your moans. But you were determined to be good, as you had been from day one, and so you bit the pillow and pulled at her hair, let her know it hurts and let her keep going, because you loved her and she loved you. And she would never leave you.
Dark fic + - Minors DNI - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
@shitshowblog prompt request #14 - Hunter/predator!driver/player x hunted/prey!reader
Summary: Oscar and Max enjoy playing games with y/n and now they've taken it to a new level.
Themes/warnings: Smut 18+ (fingering, double penetration), fear kink, deranged!Oscar/Max
Word count: 2.4k
People maybe would expect it of Max to have a secret side to himself that is harsh and cruel. Less so does y/n think that people would believe Oscar would be like this.
But they both enjoy taunting and terrorising y/n in new and creative ways, they broke her down to play their games and give into their deranged cravings months ago. She wouldn't dare go into just what she's done to please them and gain praise and validation from the two F1 drivers who have brainwashed her into thinking that's all that matters.
"Where are we going?" Y/n asks after driving nearly an hour out into the middle of nowhere somewhere in Spain. But it's been about 45 minutes since she saw another building or person and she imagines that's been done on purpose.
"We're just taking you somewhere private. Just for us." Max states with a smile as y/n looks at the two who are in the front seats while Oscar remains silent and doesn't even glance at her.
But eventually another 20 minutes of driving down a dusty road Max stops at a very modern and sleek looking house. She's almost inclined to believe the two purchased and built the place just for them.
When Oscar opens the door she's almost scared to take his hand but knowing better than to have that type of reaction, she reaches out and takes his hand exiting the car while Max starts getting their bags out.
"It's nice." Y/n smiles trying to keep a positive mind set.
"Yeah, I think we'll have a good time here." Oscar smiles making her nod a little but she also knows that they have different criteria of what's a good time for her and good time for them and there's not usually much overlap.
They do get inside and y/n finds that the whole place is set up, the kitchen filled with fresh food, there is probably enough to keep them going for a week or so. But y/n knows they won't be there that long because the boys only have limited time off.
"It's really big for the three of us." Y/n comments looking around the house as they step in. "And empty."
"It's perfect for what we're going to use it for." Max states simply making her swallow thickly before he grabs her and tightly holds her waist stopping her from moving forward. "It's not all this empty. Don't worry."
Oddly it actually doesn't worry her that there's furniture elsewhere but not in the main rooms.
"We're going to have fun here." Oscar smirks in a way that almost sends a chill down her spine. "Don't look so scared, y/n. We always get your blood rushing in the best ways, don't we?"
"Yeah." Y/n nods since she's definitely not about to disagree with them. "We always have fun."
That is definitely a poisonous lie and she feels Max's hands tighten on her in silent warning to not push it too far.
"Let's eat first." Oscar states earning a grunt of agreement from Max before he pats y/n's ass.
-
Y/n was beginning to actual feel comfortable and settled but she should've known it wouldn't last long. But good things for them never last.
"Ready to play baby?" Oscar asks since he knows she was waiting for this. She knew is was coming.
"What's the game?" Y/n asks looking between the men.
"Hide and seek. You hide, we'll seek. If you can make it to sunrise and we haven't found you. We finally stop with the games. But if we find you. You do what we want." Max explains making her swallow since they all know that y/n wants nothing more than for these games to stop.
"So everything stops if I stay hidden from the two of you?" Y/n asks earning nods of agreement. "Ok."
"Some rules." Max starts making her nod.
"You can't leave the house. If one of us catches you, you do as we say. No questions asked. We decide when the game is over if we find you before sunrise." Oscar states making her swallow thickly. "Other than that, you're free to do what you want. We'll give you 5 minutes to hide."
"Now." Max instructs making her jump before she scrambles up rushing off.
Y/n knows that she has to be smart, Oscar and Max are certain of themselves that they'll catch her. But what she doubts they're considering is that y/n's isn't sure about ending the games. She can't waste thought on that right now, she can only search and find somewhere to hide.
The lack of furniture is obviously to make it harder to hide, near impossible and she's going to have to be careful of how much noise she's making as she moves around because moving might just be the way to keep herself from being caught so quickly.
They've probably thought of that which is why she's lacking socks to muffle her steps.
Eventually y/n finds a place to hide in the pantry having climbed on top of the shelves, knowing that she can't stay here but hopefully they'll go looking upstairs and she can have the chance to move to find another spot.
She has no idea how long has passed, she has no idea whether they're looking for her yet but her pulse is thumping so hard in her ears that she genuinely can't hear anything beyond her own breathing and heartbeat. As is with all of these games, half of the time she can't hear them talking.
Her body is pressed as much to the wall and to the shelf as possible and the urge to fidget her nerves away is overwhelming but she manages to keep her hands pressed under her to stop her from moving and fiddling.
"Y/n." A stoney voice calls in a low tone as if to not draw attention from the other man looking for her.
Her ears prick at her name and her breath holds but a throat clearing makes her realise that she's been caught.
"Get down." Max instructs making a shiver ripple down her spine before she peeks over the edge and finds Max looking up at her. "Now."
Y/n swallows thickly before she feels his hands take their familiar spot gripping her waist.
"Didn't think that one through very hard." Max comments almost sounding bored and disappointed that she failed at the game so quickly. "30 minutes."
Longer than she'd thought.
"You know I think you want to get caught." Max comments as she stands looking up at him. "You lost, but we're not done having fun. Keep yourself quiet."
Y/n finds herself spun and pressed with her back pressed to his chest as her pushes the t-shirt she's wearing up and slides his hand under her joggers, his fingers gliding over her pussy before pushing into her from the feeling of how wet she is.
"You always lie about how much you enjoy these games." Max scoffs as his thumb plays with her clit, the expertise of how he handles her body almost being scary. "Don't make a noise, you wouldn't want Oscar to catch us like this. Then the game really is over."
Y/n slaps her hand over her mouth as her weight presses back into Max with him working to get an orgasm out of her with aggressive speed, they both know it won't be the first of the night and as always he wants her sore.
Her eyes squeeze together trying to contain noises of pleasure as Max's fingers thrust in and out of her pressing into her g-spot with every movement. She doesn't just get pushed over the edge, she free falls into it, spasming against Max and almost fighting his hold but managing to keep herself as close to silent as possible.
Max's hands are ripped away before he pushes the door.
"Run." Is all she hears as she tumbles forward, legs weak under her own weight and she hears a slow applause making her head shoot up to find Oscar walking towards her.
There's something in the back of her mind whispering to submit and accept her failure so soon in the night. But a louder voice barks to run and while it's on wobbly legs with her mind foggy still in a post-orgasm haze.
But now they've found her it's just a matter of out running them. Obviously that's near impossible but she's no concerned about them hearing her, they found her so they know she's running around somewhere.
They are definitely giving her a head start purely for their own enjoyment so they can give her a chance at running far enough that they actually have to chase her and she's certain they can divide and conquer more space. No doubt they know the entire blueprint of the house while y/n blindly runs around uncertain of what leads where.
The whole place is nearly completely dark which only adds to it and she has no idea how Max found her but there's no time to dwell on that.
Sudden thuds behind her make her jump to speed up and rush around a corner only to be met with the sight of Max's silhouette already waiting for her and on instinct she rushes backwards only to bump into the source of the footsteps that had made her run.
"Got you." Oscar smirks while y/n realises that might the game over once and for all. "Max said he already got something out of you, but you can be quite greedy."
Y/n's heart points from the silent threat behind his words.
"You can take us both." Oscar declares making her throat tighten a little in nerves.
This isn't the first time she's ended a game with Max and Oscar having her take them both. In fact she thinks it's their favourite way to make her fall apart. Using both their dicks to poke inside her and go at her.
Y/n still feels uncomfortably wet and stick from Max's hands now she's actually got the time to think about it and that is perfect for them as Oscar literally tears her shorts and underwear off without a second of hesitation.
"Anything to say?" Max question challenging her to speak up but she simply shakes her head despite her gaze being locked on Oscar who seems to be waiting. "Good girl."
The small amount of praise lightens the weight of fear for a few seconds before y/n swallows before Oscar pulls himself out then lifts her sliding her down on his length and stretching her oversensitive pussy to fit his size with ease. It's no surprise that he's already rock solid, and when he holds her down on himself she knows what's going to follow.
She doesn't need prep to take Max, even outside this tormenting games the two make sure she's ready to take them anyway. Not usually at the same time but y/n is making sure she is mentally prepared for Max, feeling the heat of his body as he steps up behind her.
Her whole body feels like it's thrumming with her pulse as she feels Max pressing to her ass, the muscle accepting the intrusion as she lets out a slow breath from the feeling. She might be used to anal but both men feels like she's stretched beyond capacity.
They don't move in opposing thrusts, they move in sync with each other, filling y/n and she can feel Max's hand reach around moving to play with her clit that makes her whole body jump from the extra stimulation. Her jaw falls loose and she does begin to moan at the feeling of them both moving and her body feeling the conflict between pleasure and discomfort as she's forced to fit them.
Y/n whines, moaning out as she feels her stomach tightening around them as her orgasm begins to build up. But that's enough for them to both moan and fill her up. Slamming as deep as they can into her, pumping their cum into her leaving her high and unspent.
They both pull out a little faster than she can cope with and when they ease her down onto the ground knowing her legs will be useless for a moment.
"You know it's not over." Max chuckles leaning down to look her in the eye while Oscar remains stood and just looks down at her.
"Run."
They want to wreck her.
Exhaust her till she can't possibly run.
"Run." Max shouts making her push herself up to her feet stumbling and falling scraping her knee but she doesn't stop and she keeps running hearing their menacing laughs as she runs.
And that's how she spends the night, running and being hunted. Then fucked.
Again. And again. And again.
Though after that first time they made her finish and cum every time, most times more than once.
Till the sun rises and as she watches it breach the horizon with Max's dick pounding in and out of her pussy while Oscar's dick abuses her throat.
They were kind enough to use every time they'd force her to run and be chased again to actually clean themselves up while y/n tried to desperately find a place to hide. Obviously she failed each time.
Y/n is so out of it she doesn't notice that they're done, her body has long since been dumb. Only responding to her forced and very sloppy movements to run when she's told to.
"Might've just broke her." Oscar comments as they place her down and he waves his hand in front of her glassy eyes, completely unfocused as if there's really nothing going on in her brain.
"Get her cleaned up. She just needs sleep. Tonight has just proven that she's willing to do as we say till she physically can't." Max states fingertips brushing over her thigh that is tacky with sweat. "Just wait till we have planned next, baby."
VERY Dark fic + - Minors DNI- if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Request from @hellobykittys - I thought a dark story inspired by One of the Girls with Lando Norris would be amazing! Where it's just something casual for him, but he refuses to let anyone else have her. He breaks her, ruins her, and she's more than happy about it. Lots of smut, please.
Themes/warnings: Smut 18+ (p in v, anal cockwarming), psychological breaking, controlling behaviour, manipulation, bimbofication, free-use, sadistic/pretty mean!Lando, sub/naive!reader, rough sex, lack of aftercare, toys, masturbation, major!degradation (not really of the kinky variety)
Word count: 2.1k
No part 2 requests please
The stretch of y/n's throat as her hangs her head off the edge of the bed, mouth around his length as he sees himself bulging in her neck, hitting a new depth of that had been previously unexplored.
It's not exactly comfortable for her but if it makes Lando happy then she does it. She'll do anything to make him feel good. Whatever he wants she'll do it.
And when he cums down her throat, she feels a sense of pride.
He keeps himself held there enjoying the depth of her throat, his hand moving down around it for a moment tightening around her neck for a last few moments of relishing in it before slowly sliding out as he begins to go soft.
He rubs his thumb over his tip gathering the few drops of cum and smearing them over her lips then smirking when she licks them clean and rolls onto her stomach looking up at him with eager eyes.
"I have to go." Lando states checking the time as she reaches out and tucks him away back into his trousers. "You've got your flight, don't miss it. The car will be around to pick you up in an hour."
"I won't." Y/n whispers but Lando is already at the door grabbing his backpack from the floor and heading out to the track.
Y/n sighs in defeat feeling her body deflate without him there. She stands up moving to shower and clean up.
After she's cleaned up she does stand looking at herself in the mirror, she doesn't recognise herself anymore. It's like looking at a different person to who she was months ago. Before Lando, she was such a different person and yet this feels like she’s got the better end of the deal. Even if everyone says Lando is no good for her and they think she should.
Lando might be bad news. He might not love her and she might not be the only woman in his life. But he makes her feel like there’s more to life than what she had. As if she has finally found what was waiting for her in the world.
Her fingers traces over the bite mark he left on her waist small indents leaving bruises on her skin as a reminder that even when he’s not there, she should still be thinking about him because he owns her. Her body and soul are his and she’ll be loyal to him as long as he claims her, maybe even beyond that.
-
Y/n is unwavering in her loyalty to Lando, but that doesn’t mean that other men don’t show their interest and pose a threat to his hold over her. Although it’s only from his perspective. To her these other men are nothing, she only allows them conversation out of politeness and usually she’s waiting for an excuse to get away from them.
“So how did you get an invitation to be a guest for McLaren?” Another guest asks as they sit in the hospitality unit.
“Oh just a friend.” Y/n shrugs not realising Lando over hears her and the idea of being referred to as just a friend.
He’s not a “friend” and he won’t allow her say or think such a thing again. He may not display his control to the public in risk of other woman making the mistake that he’s unavailable. She may not be the only one for him, but he won't let her think there's anyone else she's allowed to be involved with.
One thing about y/n is that she's always aware of Lando's presence in a room. So as so as he's leaving, she's following him like a lost puppy.
As soon as they're in a room together without the company of anyone else, she knows he's got them alone on purpose.
"Go back to the hotel room and I wanna see evidence I'm the only one you're thinking about and I don't want you to stop till I say. I'll be with you later."
Y/n swallows thickly as she looks at him for a moment before he leaves and she pauses for a moment before obedience takes hold of her and she does as she's told.
She gets herself to the hotel room and sighs stripping off before climbing onto the freshly made bed. Soon to be ruined by her.
She bites her lip as her fingers slip into her pussy, the heel of her palm on her clit as she lets her mind wonder to Lando.
The first orgasm comes easy and same with the second one, but the third takes a bit more effort, she's feeling the slight cramping of her hand that is soaked from the thought of Lando finally coming back. Though no doubt he is prolonging his return to her as long as possible.
"Lando." Y/n whimpers to herself as she grinds against her own touch.
Pushing towards a fourth orgasm she's feeling the oversensitivity begin to set in, when the orgasm feels like like waves over pleasure and more like a drain to her energy.
"One more for me." A voice commands, no softness in his tone, no gentle praise. He's not giving her a choice and she knows if she doesn't he won't play nicely.
Not that he will anyway but at least she can feel some sense of having pleased him.
Y/n feels her body burning and coursing with a new wave of pleasure under his gaze while he stands with a blank expression watching her before she finally just squirts onto the bed, the sheets already wet but now she's almost sitting in a puddle.
"Who do you belong to?" Lando asks making her move towards him as he undoes his jeans and pulls out his length.
"You."
"Show me."
His length slides down her throat and she gets all of 2 seconds of control before she feels the familiar burn of her scalp as his hand grips her hair, pulling it tightly as he begins choking her. He always loves the restriction of her throat around his dick when he's blocked the air off.
He uses her how he likes to get off and she loves it.
With her own orgasm haze proving that she's pretty drained of her energy. So when she begins to feel the light dimming around the edges of her vision, he can see her struggling to stay conscious. Fighting the blockage in her airways.
Eventually she relaxes a little as her eyes roll back making him hold her there for just a few more seconds before he practically throws her back onto the bed, not caring as she falls into the wet patch she'd left. Then he manages to roll her onto her stomach as she comes back slowly feeling her lungs fill. But not nearly as fast as her pussy is filled as he pulls her back, her legs folding under her before he slams into her knocking the small amount of air gathered in her lungs back out of them.
Her body reacts before her mind and when her 5th orgasm strikes she's got just enough strength back to grip the sheets, nails tearing the expensive material.
The line of pain and pleasure isn't crossed, she's definitely feeling the wear of too many orgasms. But she knows that's what Lando likes to do, make too much pleasure into pain. Push her boundaries because he gets off on it.
She feels a sting as he slaps her ass cheek, hard enough for her to know they'll be an imprint of his hand for a couple hours and probably a bruise for a week, following up with a hard thrust that makes her stomach flip from the pressure.
"Lando." Y/n whines finally managing to find her voice beyond just moaning.
She feels another orgasm burn through her making her head spin, if she's sick then it'd be of no surprise to her.
Beads of sweat are coating her skin as she feels him pull out and his cum shoots onto her back. The feeling of it giving her a warm feeling of gratification.
Through when she feels his hand come up to her throat forcing her up she can feeling she body beginning to shake on the verge of collapse.
"Open your mouth." Lando instructs making her head tilt back, jaw dropping as she opens her mouth and feels a glob of spit land with scarily good aim on her tongue. The slight taste of alcohol from the champagne everyone had been drinking lingers as she waits for him to tell her to swallow. But... "Hold it there. And next time you think about talking to another man, remember your mouth belongs to me just like everything else and I don't give you permission to talk to them."
-
Y/n tries not to feel her chest tighten at the sight of Lando speaking to another girl, he's been on her all night and she's been hanging off of him.
As the girl whispers in his ear he smirks, his gaze landing on y/n who feels a small bolt of joy that he's even just giving her a few seconds of his attention even from a distance.
Then he disappears with the girl and y/n sighs deciding to wait in the car like Lando had told her to if he left the room and she couldn't follow. Not wanting to risk her breaking the rule of speaking to another man.
He also had another rule.
If he disappears then she has to use the toy he left for her in the car to get off. He'd already spent the day fucking her ass and filling her up before plugging her so she's filled with his cum. She hates the feeling and he loves her discomfort.
Y/n finds a wand in the car, biting her lip as she looks around wanting to make sure there's no audience that she's going to be putting on a show for involuntarily.
She wasn't allowed underwear for the night so y/n just slips it between her legs, focusing on her clit as she presses back into the black leather seats. Rocking her hips into the vibrating pressure.
"Fuck." Y/n whispers to herself, the flashes of how Lando has treated her all day riling her up as she whimpers. Her stomach tenses as she whines before she presses her legs together, arching her back and moaning. With her discomfort through the day, she'd not got any physical pleasure from Lando while he'd got off more than than she thought possible.
She's relishing in the feeling of her orgasm and the thought of pleasing Lando with having carried out what he instructed of her. But her bliss is short lived as the door opens and closes on the other side of the car making her lazy gaze drag over to him while he seems to crank the seat back a little.
"Clean me up."
Y/n throws the wand on the floor rushing over and undoing his trousers to clean that other woman off of his dick, the mixture of her juices and Lando's spent cum coating his length as she tastes it and takes him into her mouth. She wants to remove all evidence the other girl was there, make him remember that it's her he always comes back to and wants really.
Y/n is perfect for him. He's broken her down and rebuilt her to be perfect for him.
She sucks till he's hard again and he's pushing her head down so far on his dick that her face is painfully pressed into his skin.
Then she feels him reach to pull at the plug but not completely remove it, more like he's testing the give.
"Sit on me." Lando instructs finally letting her up and while she hesitates, a hard slap on her ass of warning makes her move faster and she swallows removing the plug and moving to sit on his dick, just taking his tip in her ass. Then he pushes her down not too quickly, but quicker than she would've. "If I wanted you to be slow about it. I'd tell you to. Now just stay there like this."
"Ok." Y/n mumbles with a small nod.
"You were good tonight." Lando states making her heart thump, the praise from Lando being so rare that she is practically overwhelmed when he gives her praise.
Dark fic + - Minors DNI- if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: Lando brings home a girl that he thinks will be perfect for him, Max and Oscar but things between the three never necessarily run easily.
Themes/warnings: Smut 18+, reverse harem, kidnapping, drugging, pre-existing relationshipish - mean!Max x nonchalant!Oscar x overexcitable!Lando
Sidenote: I don't know if I've messed up in the timeline, but...soz if this timeline is messed up, I'm sorry if that annoys some people but I hope we can all move past that minor slip up. Oopsie poopsie.
Full series
Word count: 2.4k
Almost to y/n's disappointment Max actually didn't touch her with Oscar and Lando's absence but he didn't actually ignore her, he seemed...tentative. He made sure she ate, stayed hydrated and he even got her on the sim.
All with a blank expression to make sure his emotions were never given away.
Oscar and Lando came back from their time at MTC.
Everything seems pretty normal till they're heading to Max's jet. Y/n is trusted to leave the apartment seemingly under the watch of all 3 drivers. Though she noted that both Oscar and Lando seemed to wait for Max to make the decision.
Lando and Oscar are walking ahead of y/n discussing something about McLaren for the testing they're doing in Bahrain. Obviously all 3 are required to be there and leaving her alone in the apartment held too much risk.
"Where's everyone else?" Lando jokes as they walk into the cabin dumping their bags down.
"It's just us." Max states making Oscar look at him raising an eyebrow as he seems to realise that there may be some intention behind that decision.
Max's jet has a galley that keeps the crew out the way when he wants and there's obvious the cockpit. He's certainly got the power to tell them to leave them alone and he seems to be intending to use it.
Not that Oscar is about to call him out and comment.
Lando and y/n are sitting together on the sofa seat, Lando having dragged her legs up over his lap as he leans in whispering something to her.
But it's when she flicks her gaze from Lando to Max that her attention is caught while he almost sits slouching but somehow exuding power in the moment. Oscar watches the interaction from his own seat and it's with one gesture of his finger that y/n straightens up and Lando's attention moves over to look at the blonde.
"Come here." Max instructs making her look at Lando then Oscar who is still watching but his usually passive expression as if he's not finding this whole interaction very amusing and of high interest.
Neither Lando or Oscar stop her, both too intrigued to see where this is going.
Y/n stands up actually feeling pretty nervous as she nears the man and his hand comes out for her to take. She just doesn't expect him to pull her down as he turns the seat with her sitting on his lap facing Oscar and Lando who seem to have an understanding of what's happening more than she does.
Lando's expression reads like a book, he wants to watch this happen. Oscar is less expressive in his watching but he's gaze isn't shifting away from her.
"Get these off." Max instructs snapping her waistband of Oscar's joggers that she's wearing and snapping her out of her thoughts of watching the men who are watching her.
She lifts herself just enough from his lap to slide the joggers down leaving them on the floor before she lands back in Max's lap, feeling his length hard under her ass. Her underwear is still on but she'd hardly say it's saving her modesty.
Though perhaps she's beyond that point when it comes to herself and these men.
Not that he modesty matters at all when Max's hands pull her legs apart and hooks them over the armrests of the seat forcing her to lean back further into him.
"You said I need to wait for the two of you to be present. I waited." Max comments making her swallow thickly as her eyes fall on Oscar.
Lando is far too eager to bring her the comforting reassurance she needs right now. Oscar's sense of calm is contagious and is soothes her internal panic over Max taking control again.
"Long enough." Lando comments almost bitterly. Clearly he's been waiting just as much as Max has.
Max's hand slides down her inner thigh, not really being that gentle as his other hand yanks the thin material of her underwear aside, completely exposing her to the men in front of her as he pushes two fingers into her. Her body was clearly more prepared than her mind was because she's surprised by the ease that his fingers slide into her.
"You clearly enjoy being watched." Max states in her ear making her face burn and while she'd like to say it's shame over how accurate it is, it's really just being caught out in that regard that is making.
Again he proves that his hands aren't just talented with a steering wheel, her hips moving to meet his movements as she drops her head back on his shoulder. He allows her to do it for a few brief moments before his free hand comes up.
"Look at them." Max instructs as he forces her head up to look at the two men, Lando looking about ready to pounce while Oscar is unmoved but his eyes definitely give him away even at this distance. "They wanted this. They want me touching you like they do."
Then her unfiltered thoughts pass her lips as she looks at Lando.
"I want you too." Y/n states breathlessly feeling his dick twitch under her which makes her clench on him the idea of more than just his fingers inside her. Just the thought emits a whine from her before he hands snap to Lando then Oscar. "I want all of you."
"Don't need to fucking tell me twice." Lando states standing up much more eagerly than Oscar who pauses for a moment watching his teammate.
It's safe to say that y/n isn't sure how this is going to work, the balance of Oscar and Lando was easy enough. But where the hell does the third one go because he's sure as hell not going in her ass.
"Don't look so scared." Lando smirks leaning over and managing to pull her forward a little into a very hot and sloppy kiss that leaves her clenching around Max's fingers before he slowly pulls away. "Better use that mouth on Oscar."
Despite Max holding the power, Lando obviously gets choice of position and who is where; Oscar just goes along with whatever, though she has a brief thought about what he'd like to do.
But that thought is fleeting as y/n feels her stomach tensing and her body in a new flush of heat as her orgasm sweeps over her, rippling up her spine.
"Max." Y/n moans, back arching against him as his fingers remain deeply planted in her, enjoying the feeling of her reaction to the orgasm he's inflicted on her.
In her orgasm haze y/n is moved actually onto the floor. Her body placed on all fours as she feels Max slide into her and Lando lifts one of her hands over to Oscar, who as usual had silently joined them, and the sound of his breathy moan from her touch on his length makes her clench around Max as he continues to slide into her and lets out his own moan.
"Look at me." Lando instructs forcing her gaze back to him. "I don't know if you're ready for what you're gonna take, baby."
Y/n feels her heart thudding, even she can feel her pulse in her palm around Oscar's length and her pussy is just throbbing with need. Whatever Lando's promising her, she's eager for it and her body wants it maybe even more than she realises.
"Please." Y/n whimpers moving her hand in tandem with Max's thrusts.
"You heard her boys." Lando states while y/n pants. "You sure you can take us both?"
Her hand tightens on Oscar's length at the suggestion making him grunt in discomfort before she shoots him an apologetic smile and loosens her grip again.
"She can take it." Max declares from behind her, pulling her up to himself a little. "Can't you?"
"I-I-"
"She will take us both." Max affirms being able to feel her pulse quickening. "Y/n?"
"Yes." Y/n confirms before she swallows then finds her upper body directed off to the side.
"And Oscar can let us know just how much she can take." Max adds as he manages to thrust into y/n and push her into Oscar's lap. She looks up at the Aussie who seems to be more than happy for her to be taking him down her throat and she does. "Keep her quiet."
Y/n's eyes bore into Oscar in a silent plea to go easy, but he couldn't think of anything less appealing. He wants her as badly as Lando and Max, he just doesn't verbalise it. She's about to understand that doesn't mean he's the weak link of the trio.
His hand comes up to her hair tangling into the strands before he takes the lead in guiding her movements.
Max is unrelenting, his thrusts seemingly getting more and more powerful and deeper as he stretches her in preparation to have Lando join him.
"Fucking hell." Oscar groans when he feels her throat contract as he blocks off her air for a few brief moments before letting her back up.
Y/n feels the combination of Oscar and Max pushing her towards a second orgasm and even just the feel of Lando's hands on her waist with his length poking her lower tummy.
Y/n whines feeling the build up before she pulls off Oscar's length feeling her second orgasm hit her and flood her system but Max manages to fight off his own orgasm while she falls apart on his dick.
In the moment of her finally relaxes around him that Lando takes the opportunity of managing to slide into her making her cry out, the combination of the stretch to accommodate them both and the pain crossing the line into more pleasure making her nerves tingle with the stimulation.
Lando slides in forcing his way beside Max while y/n grits her teeth panting as she feels impossibly full. Maybe a bit more prep was needed but Max didn't allow for it and while Lando chose this, he doesn't take the lead for follow through.
Once Lando stops moving they're all just silent allowing her as long as she needs to just adjust to it. They might not be giving her much option for this but they're not going to be monsters.
She feels Oscar's hand stroking her cheek comforting her how she needs to get herself over the hurdle of being so full.
"We can stop." Lando states after a good few minutes have passed and honestly he's finding it painful just to remain so still.
"She's ok." Oscar comments making her swallow thickly as she looks up and realises that Oscar's now the one reminding her she's not go any control really but she surrendered that a long time ago to them. "Ready?"
"Yeah."
And that's all they need, Max and Lando have no rhythm but it doesn't change anything, the pain that had dipped back over the threshold out of being blurred with pleasure is very much making her sizzle with overstimulation as she pushed to a 3rd orgasm and with her lips parted Oscar doesn't hesitate to chase his own sliding back into her mouth.
A moan rumbles up her throat as she feels all three taking her body to another universe. She's not even sure she has control but even if she could navigate it all, she knows that she is at their mercy regardless.
"Stop fighting it." Max states feeling her body trying to fight off the threat of another orgasm, presumably the feeling is not one she's familiar with having is such close order but suddenly Oscar distracts her pushing her head down as he finishes, shooting down her throat making her clamp down as much as she can around Lando and Max, not that there's really much more limitation she can give the space between the two men.
But regardless Lando spills into her from the tightness and as he remains planted in her, Max slams a couple times into her before releasing his long awaited orgasm before pulling out after only a couple seconds of relishing in the feel.
Oscar lets her up, allowing her to catch her breath and she feels numb. Her whole body just completely surrendered to the fact she's completely spent.
There's some words exchanged between the men before she feels Lando push her up and another set of hands pick her up from Lando's body.
"I got you." Oscar states when she whimpers feeling Lando slide out of her as she's moved. But knowing it's Oscar taking care of her gives her a comfort that she needs.
That's the only three words she grasps for the next 30 minutes while Oscar cleans her up before doing something that she's still entirely unaware of.
"Lando is the one for hugs." Max states coldly but Oscar doesn't miss how the Dutchman makes no real effort to move her.
"Yeah, well Lando passed out and I trust you can handle a woman sleeping on top of you for a couple hours." Oscar shrugs not giving any reason for as to why he can't lie with her or just put her elsewhere because really they both know he doesn't have one. He's just forcing Max's hand to be more towards her than just a source of sex. "But if you're really that unhappy."
"Just leave her. Moving her around more isn't going to do her any good."
There's no need to comment on the irony but Oscar moves away and sighs relaxing in his own seat definitely needing rest after that experience.
Max stays awake keeping an eye on y/n as she slowly comes down from the high she'd been pushed up to before she looks up at him with a lazy gaze then nuzzles down against him and seems to give up the fight of remaining conscious.
He's really finding it hard to find reasons to fight against the idea of Lando's perfect set up for the three of them with y/n.
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.
Dark fic + - Minors DNI- if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: Lando brings home a girl that he thinks will be perfect for him, Max and Oscar but things between the three never necessarily run easily.
Themes/warnings: Smut 18+, reverse harem, kidnapping, drugging, pre-existing relationshipish - mean!Max x nonchalant!Oscar x overexcitable!Lando, specific to this part: no smut, more fluff
Full series
Word count: 2.1k
"I told you to go easy on her." Lando mumbles looking at Max who is holding y/n's hair back as she seems to bring up every bit of food her stomach can force out.
"Oscar was the one with his dick down her throat." Max argues while Oscar sits on the floor with y/n as she drags her gaze up from the toilet bowl, her lips with shine bile.
He feels bad about it and unlike Lando, he is blaming himself.
"I'm ok." Y/n finally utters as Max helps her back up onto shaky legs and Lando rushes to wipe her mouth for her but the touch and closeness hits her with a sudden wave of irritation making her push both Max's and Lando's hands from her. "Guys please. I just need some air."
Her snapping makes them step back before she moves out of the bathroom, the shuffling sound of her pulling clothes on before she moves into the living room and steps out onto the balcony.
They even hear the cats running with her, meowing at her as she moves outside.
None of them even say anything to each other as they move to clean up and dress themselves before the all peek out at her then move and sit with her, making sure there's space from her so they're not crowding her.
Sassy is sitting in y/n's lap, purring loudly as she pets the cat looking out at the sunsetting.
"I'm not mad. You don't have to give me space anymore." Y/n mumbles feeling Lando reach forward and pull her into his lap without a second of hesitation, beating the others who grumble at his speed.
"We're sorry." Oscar mumbles earning a small smile.
"No, it's ok. I just needed some air and you were all getting aggravating with your bickering." Y/n sighs leaning back onto Lando. "I hate being sick."
"We hate it too." Lando assures her while kissing her cheek.
"You need to eat something. Anything. You can't survive off of nothing." Max states standing up to his feet while Lando silently rolls his eyes at the Dutchman.
"Be nice." Y/n whispers as Oscar stands up and offers his hands to help her up which she takes then offering her own to Lando who scoffs shaking his head at the idea of her taking his weight.
Y/n seems to pop at the 3 month mark, not completely but the bump is very obviously a baby bump and while her morning sickness is slowly fizzling out, her gag reflex has a new sensitivity to it.
"You look so beautiful." Oscar smiles he latches her onto her hand while Lando attempts to befriend one of Max's cats and fails. Yet again.
For some reason they really have something against Lando. He's walked away with more injuries than evidence of reciprocated love.
They three men all have stuff to do today and they're all pretty hesitant to leave y/n on her own but she does not want to be dragged around and they seem to be more willing to leave her home alone.
Y/n ends up hugging Oscar after she's brushed her teeth to get rid of the acidic taste in her mouth before Max placed down a plate and she forced down some toast and that's when she asks something of him that he just can't say no to.
“Can you stay here with me?” Y/n asks making Oscar soften a little, very happy he is the one that gets some more one on one time with her.
Both Lando and Max have things they can’t possibly cancel, but Oscar’s plans were a little more pliable to work with changing and she knew that. She also knows that while Lando fusses the most and Max seems to monitor and instruct her the most.
“Of course I can.” Oscar nods with a smile before he kisses her softly.
Both Max and Lando are actually happier leaving her with Oscar staying with her. They each kiss her in their own long and lingering ways, reminding her that they might be leaving her in Oscar’s capable hands but she should not forget about them.
“How are you feeling?” Oscar asks still feeling the lingering guilty of her actually throwing up on his dick before she made a b-line for the bathroom.
“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Y/n assures him tiredly then biting her lip for a moment as she considers her options and Oscar just waits for her to ask whatever it is that she wants. “Can we go back to bed?”
“Yeah, but we’ll have to go to my room. Max’s…will need some clean up later.” Oscar mumbles flushing at his own words as he briefly relives the moment. He picks y/n up and carries her to his room smiling as he places her down and groans lying himself down. “You’re so beautiful.”
Y/n smiles as he wraps an arm around her before he begins rubbing her small bump while she feels her body settling down and relaxing under is touch. She doesn’t take long to pretty much pass out which Oscar attempts to use as an opportunity to get up and clean up the earlier mess. But y/n stirs the moment he tries to remove himself making him move back, not wanting to disturb her sleep at all. He already made her sick so he’s not going to add insult to injury.
-
When Max and Lando come home, y/n proves to suddenly have done a 180 from her earlier attitude for wanting space. Instead she’s very clingy and with Oscar using the chance of her peeling away from him to finally clean up.
“Baby, I gotta pee.” Lando whispers after her refusing to shift from him when he tries to get himself up from the sofa. “Max’s turn.”
Max smiles lightly as she crawls over to him straddling him with her tummy touching his as she tucks her arms around his ribs and nuzzles into his neck while he gently rubs her lower back.
“I love when you’re all cuddly.” Max sighs as she hums and yawns against him. “Still tired baby?”
“I feel like I’ll never not be tired again. If it’s already this hard, how am I meant to get through the rest of the pregnancy?” Y/n groans while Max smiles lightly at her.
“We’ll be there for you through all of it.”
That’s not as comforting as he thinks because she knows they can’t be there as much as she’d like through the third trimester. The due date is for late March when they are kicking off the next season. But realistically they’ll be busy again from February.
“I’m not used to doing things on my own anymore.” Y/n whispers making Max frown. “It’ll be fine. I’m fine.”
“Y/n, we’re gonna do everything we can for all three of us to be here.” Max promises though he knows that really he can’t go as far as promising that they’ll be there because even with a weekend off. They’re not supposed to be home till after Jeddah which is in April.
It’s going to be hard.
Y/n ends up falling asleep on top of Max allowing Max to quietly call in Oscar and Lando to discuss the issue.
“Well unless one of us is going to injure one of the others to such a degree that we’re out multiple races-“ which really isn’t going to happen and they all know as much as they love y/n, none of them are willing to put themselves down as the one to cut their chances out of the championship. “-then it’s going to be nearly impossible.” Oscar sighs looking between then two while Max checks that y/n actually is still asleep.
“We can’t bring her with us. Travelling that far along is a big no-no. It’s just dangerous.” Lando states making them both grumble in agreement.
The three possibly should've considered that baby-trapping her might not be as easy for them as they assume. it would be. Really they just wanted to make sure she would rely on them and now she is, they hadn't thought it all the way through to this point. Not to mention bringing other people in to aid her is a hard thing to decide on because they've hidden this in order to avoid explaining it to their friends and family.
If they suddenly throw a pregnancy into the mix would just create chaos. Parents would question why it was never mentioned, friends would question why they're ok with the possibility of another man being the father.
"Maybe it's time to let y/n bring in someone for herself...Her family have been worried about her for months." Oscar points out making Max and Lando immediately shake their heads.
"Are you insane?" Lando questions actually quite harshly in his wording.
"What?"
"If her family come here, they'll connect the dots pretty quickly when she tells them everything-which she will and then they'll try and charge us for abduction and holding her against her will. Not to mention they'll be horrified she's pregnant." Max lists pointing out that the risk is not worth the reward.
"So we're going to make her give birth alone?" Lando mumbles suddenly realising that's the only conclusion.
"She'll have the midwife and nurses. But we don't have any choice." Max sighs not feeling great about it but sometimes it just has to be done. He looks at the sleeping woman on top of him before he kisses her shoulder.
"She'll be ok. She's strong." Oscar murmurs before he stands up. "I'm gonna hit the gym. Everything from earlier is cleaned up."
"Thank you." Lando nods since it was on his bed that it happened.
"I'd still suggest letting it dry off and air out for a night or two." Oscar smiles patting the Brit's shoulder before he leaves.
Max waits for a moment before Oscar is gone then he looks at Lando.
"You ok?" Max questions earning a nod from Lando. "Don't go fucking things up now.
"I'm good. It's going to be fine." Lando nods then sighing as he picks up his phone. "I think I'm going to order us food tonight. I don't want to stick to the diet-and I'm going out to get some more kinder. Y/n ate our stash yesterday."
-
"I think it's going to be a boy." Y/n states as Lando helps dress y/n for bed, putting a t-shirt over her head.
"You think?" Lando smiles earning a nod from her while he gently cups her face and kisses her softly. "So long as they're healthy. That's all that matters to me."
"That's a boring answer." Max comments passing them while y/n laughs at him. "I agree, it's gonna be a boy."
"You think?" Y/n grins moving to stand with the Dutchman who promptly guides her to lie down on the bed. "Why do you think so?"
"I trust your intuition." Max shrugs watching her melt at his softly spoken words. "But I do agree with Lando for the sentiment."
Y/n hums before she pats either side of her and then frowns.
"Where's Oscar?" Y/n questions making the Aussie jog in scrubbing his hair with a towel.
"I was in the shower, sorry." Oscar smiles then climbing into the bed with them.
Y/n had been worried about Oscar being too harsh on himself for making her sick. It wasn't his fault and the poor man took the brunt of it when he was the first victim of it. But he seems ok, even if they've all seemed a little off since she woke up from falling on top of Max.
She's probably just overthinking it.
"I love your hair." Y/n whispers playing with Lando's curls while he grins at her then launches forward seeming to attack her with kisses. "Ah! Ok. Ok. We're meant to be going to sleep."
"Not sorry." Lando grins before finally settling down.
Max places a much softer kiss on the back of her neck before moving back so Oscar can lie as the middle man making y/n roll over, being aided by Lando who makes sure she is lying on her side since he's discovered she's really not supposed to lie on her back. Even if she argued it's a little early to be concerned about such a thing.
"I love you guys."
"We love you too." Oscar whispers making the young woman smile and settle against him as she arm reaches around so she's making sure to be touching all three in some form.
