#i just woke up and i had a dream where all of the other drivers were making Esteban cry and now i am feeling overprotective of him 💀 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yelenasdiary · 3 months

Note

Heya! Some fluff for valentines. Yelena and reader go to a department store and fill baskets for each other with the others favorite things and at the bottom of readers basket is a beautiful ring that Yelena proposes with

Macaronly Have Eyes for You

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: You were able to get Yelena do to one of your Valentine’s Day activities that came with a surprise of its own.

Fluff, Fluff & FLUFF!!

Translations: Detka (baby), Ты выйдешь за меня? (will you marry me),

Warnings: None | 1.4K

AC: I loved this idea so much and it was perfect for the photo that came up on my twitter feed that made me want to write something Yelena x Reader about!! Thank you for sending this & I hope you enjoy it!! x

Cupid's Dream Masterlist

"So, I'm just filling this up with things I think you'd like?" Yelena asked as you both grabbed a Walmart basket. You smiled softly, "Yeah! We have 30 minutes, and we can't show any of to each other until we get home" you explained with an exciting tone. Yelena nodded while her brain thought of all the things, she could possibly get for you, "I'll meet you back at the car, oh and don't forget to get a gift box to use at the checkout" you added before giving the blonde a soft peck on her lips and walking away.

Yelena watched as you wondered down an aisle before she turned on her feet and made her way to the confessionary aisle. She started off with the easy items, adding a few of your favorite chocolates and candy to the basket along with a couple of bottles of your favorite drink. She then made her way to the clothing area and grabbed the sweater that you were unsure of buying the last time the two of you were at Walmart.

The first item you put in your basket was the easiest thing anybody who knew Yelena could think of. A box of Mac & Cheese paired with her favorite bottle of hot sauce. As you were making your way out of the aisle, the cheesiest thing caught your eye. A small plushie in the shape of a macaroni pasta. "Oh, she's going to hate this" you chuckled to yourself as you placed it in your basket.

You met Yelena back at the car, she was leaning against the driver's door waiting patiently for you. "You're going to love what I got you!" You said excitedly as you placed the gift box of goodies in the back seat. "You have that look" Yelena replied as the two of you got into the car.

"What look?" You asked, playing off any suspicious look you might have had.

"The look at says you've been up to no good" Yelena replied with a chuckle as she started the car. "I am excited to show you what I got you, you're going to hate it so much you'll love it!" You said, confusing the blonde.

Yelena pulled out of the parking lot and began the journey back to your shared apartment. Your excitement only grew bigger as your mind kept thinking about Yelena's reaction to the cheesy gifts you got her. This was your third Valentines with Yelena, the first one she was away on a mission so there wasn't anything you could do with her and last year, you were sick with the flu and slept most of the day but you still found the energy to cook dinner for Yelena.

This was the year you were able to really show Yelena how much you loved her, even though you tell her every day just how important she is too you, you never wanted her to miss out on these little holidays. You woke her up with breakfast in bed, rose petals trailing from the bed to the shower where the two of you spent more time making out than helping each other wash.

Yelena took you out for lunch at your favorite restaurant before the two of you took a walk-through Central Park where you brought her a Valentines themed balloon from a balloon vender that she walked through the park with. She wasn't exactly a fan of the balloon but deep down she loved how cheesy you were.

"Babe, you missed the turn off" you looked to Yelena with a confused look.

"I know. We're not going home; I want to take you somewhere else" Yelena replied.

"Where?" You asked.

"You'll see" She looked to you and smiled softly, "it's just a 20-minute drive" she added.

Roughly 25 minutes later and Yelena pulled up at Brooklyn Bridge Park. The city lights reflecting off the water made her green eyes sparkle as she laid out a picnic blanket on the grass. "I was going to cook us a late dinner, but this seems more fun" she spoke as she looked at you.

"This is very romantic so for the record, I take absolutely full responsibility for the chance you might fall in love with me just a little more once you open your gift box" you replied with a smile. Yelena chuckled as she wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer into her, kissing you lovingly. "Do you want to go first?" She asked, seeing the excitement in your eyes. You nodded with a smile, "you might want to sit down for this" you chuckled.

The two of you sat down on the picnic blanket, you opened the gift box full of things you brought for Yelena and told her to close her eyes. "I'm going to start with this just to give you a little taste of what goodies I got you" you said, trying not to break out into laughter as you placed a mug in Yelena's hands. "Open your eyes" you added.

Yelena cocked a brow as she read the text on the mug before looking up at you to see you were proudly smiling at her with confidence. "Yoda best girlfriend in the galaxy" she read aloud. "That's just the start of it" you replied.

"You're not going to believe this" Yelena smiled while shaking her head as she pulled out the exact same mug she got for you, "it literally had you written all over it" she added. You broke into laughter as you placed the mug in front of you, "I love it, thank you!"

The two of you took in turns giving each other an item from the gift boxes. Yelena wasn't at all surprised that you'd gotten her a bottle of vodka as well as her favorite meal duo. She loved the perfume you got her and said it was the perfect scent, nothing too intense. You instantly put on the sweat that Yelena had gotten you and you couldn't wait to take a bath with one of the giant bath bombs she'd gotten you.

"Okay, close your eyes again, I saved the best for last" you smiled at your girlfriend.

"Now I am slightly nervous" Yelena chuckled with her eyes closed. You pulled out the last item in the gift box, the plushie of macaroni pasta that said 'Macaronly Have Eyes for You' on the box and gently placed it in her hands. "This is my favourite thing I got you" you said with a chuckle, "you can open your eyes now" you added.

Yelena couldn't control the laughter she broke into at the sight of the plushie, "I hate it so much I can't help but love it" she said, "thank you detka" she added as she reached over and kissed you lovingly. "I have one more gift for you" she smiled against your lips before leaning back and handing you the gift box. You found a small black box that made your heart skip a beat as you looked up at her.

"Open it" she insisted.

Carefully you picked up the small box and opened it to see a ring with a green diamond sparking at you from the city lights. "Yelena" you looked up at her.

"I've been thinking about this since our last Valentines together. You were so sick, and I told you just to stay in bed and rest but you were so persistent on making the day special. Detka, every single day I get with you is special to me and I knew that night that I don't ever want to spend my life with anybody else. I love the way you make me feel and the way you are never afraid to be yourself. I love how cheesy you are and how you always find the fun in anything. I wanted to give you something big and Hollywood style romantic but seeing you walking out of Walmart tonight and how beautiful you look in your sweats and favourite t-shirt, I didn't want to wait any longer" she said with a loving smile.

"Yelena, you broke the rules" you replied, tears of joy filling your eyes.

"I would break the rules for you anytime" she replied as she reached for the ring and gently pulled it out of the box. She looked you deeply in your eyes, "Ты выйдешь за меня?" She asked, her Russian accent the thickest you've ever heard it. You nodded repeatedly as the tears calmly ran own your cheeks, "if you're asking me what I think you are asking me, the answer is yes, a thousand times yes!" You replied.

Yelena slid the ring on your finger before kissing you deeply once more, "I really have to teach you Russian" she smiled against your lips.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #scarletwidowblackwitch #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #yelena belova x reader #happy valentines

212 notes · View notes

deandoesthingstome · 6 months

Text

Medieval Fantasy

Pairing: Witcher!Geralt x Reader

Summary: The offerings at this hotel, I swear.

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving, 69), p in v (cowgirl, missionary), monster fucking (right?).

A/N: I suppose, strictly speaking we're not fucking the monster, but he's still a treat, so enjoy!

A/N 2: (Edited) I do owe @augustsprincess a little thank your for an idea; I played it out during the group chat here, but I probably wouldn't have included it at all if not for you, so *smooches*

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

Mike ordered a pizza from room service for the last hour of your reservation with him once he flipped the time switch. You sat cross-legged on the couch with him, munching happily while he narrated the ridiculousness of the rest of the scenes to your scary movie, making you giggle where you’d normally be hiding behind a blanket. You’d remember this night fondly for a long time. Mike’s easy going way had put you completely at ease once he noticed you were a little hung up on Walt.

He unfortunately didn’t know anything about how to get a hold of your missing object of desire.

You set the scene for the story pretty much as it was, but added more spook and gore, opting to split up the experience into two nights. One with live Mike, just barely slipping out the window before the parents came home from their Halloween night costume parties, only to be killed by the tow truck driver who showed up when his car, parked around the corner from the house, wouldn’t start. He was hung on the hook that should have hoisted his beater onto the truck. And one a few weeks later, when the heavy drag of the chains and hook across the attic floor led the heroine to investigate, only to be taken swiftly and with no mercy by her incorporeal boyfriend. Not rough, just urgent, insistent, longing for some other connection that would allow him to leave the vicinity of his undoing. If he could have taken her outside on the sidewalk without prying neighbor eyes, he probably would have.

You put the notice up after you posted. The next would be your last regular monster fucking post. You were taking a hiatus to work on your first novel.

sendmeanangel: and then Walter burst through the window, all wolfed out darkgothnightengale: while they were both fucking you??? sendmeanangel: yeah, and i can only think my subconscious was trying to not kill me when it chose August and Mike for that experience. I can’t imagine having anything else inside me while getting fucked by the Bull MNstrluvr: i would kill for a dream like that darkgothnightengale: well, did he take you away? sendmeanangel: i woke up!!! darkgothnightengale: and still no luck finding him? sendmeanangel: no. i found a guy who seemed like him, but he’s in Minnesota. Or was. It’s like his online presence is either non-existent or ended abruptly at least ten years ago MNstrluvr: another ghost lol! sendmeanangel: very funny. Mike was a lot of fun anyway. I needed that darkgothnightengale: and you’re still going back? sendmeanangel: i’ve never heard of a witcher. He just showed up on the site the other week and i bet he’s softer than he looks. I booked him at the same time i booked Mike, so it’s already scheduled and i could do with one more amazing adventure before i give it all up darkgothnightengale: i still don’t understand why. If you don’t have walter, what’s the harm? sendmeanangel: there’s no harm. Obviously i’m free to do what i want. But i think about him all the time. And i just think maybe it’s time for a break MNstrluvr: when you find him you should see if he’s up for booking a room with you so you can recreate that dream sendmeanangel: oh my goddddd!

“We certainly hope you haven’t been displeased with your experiences here,” the desk clerk asked gently.

“What? No! Everything’s been wonderful. Why do you ask?” you inquired, at a loss for what may have precipitated the comment.

“We noticed you hadn’t made another future booking yet.”

“Oh, that,” you stammered. ”I just…no, everything’s fine.” You fingered the edges of the card stock bearing the elevator code to get you to L2 and tightened your grip on your bag reflexively. Just a trick you used to bring you back to steady.

“Well, please. If there’s anything at all we can do for you…” You smiled and cast your eyes down so as not to betray your true feelings, but glanced up quickly to try to judge the meaning behind the next statement made with a hint of weightiness. “Anything at all.”

“Thank you,” you offered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The elevator opened to a small wooden hut, a place for your belongings and coat, a small wash basin filled with still steaming water and fragrant scents set on a wooden stand. You disrobed, dipped a washcloth in the water, and bathed yourself with the enchanting smells, then grabbed a linen towel to dry off before climbing into the outfit you’d selected for the fantasy. You slipped the silver dagger into the holster you’d strapped to your thigh and dropped your heavy skirt down over it before wrapping the cloak around your shoulders.

You had no idea what you were walking out into, only that if things got too hairy, as they absolutely could, he’d be there to save you. There to comfort you.

You stepped out onto a wooded path leading to a trail along a marshy bog, mostly full moon shining in the sky above you. You were never going to get over the mechanics of this hotel that made it seem like you were in at least five distinctly different places, some of which were outside, while still housed in the same building. But you were solidly on the side of possibility. Monsters were real. Magic was real. This hotel was real.

You carried a small basket of goods, as if headed to a market or maybe home from one. The path ahead of you seemed less than ideal and you began to wonder if you’d made a wrong turn. The churning and bubbling of the bog was lost on you as you looked around for another path that might lead to more solid ground, grateful for the light of the moon since a flashlight app was absolutely not happening, as your phone was left back in the hut.

Suddenly, a loud shriek sounded from the liquid and a large figure began to emerge, long twig-like legs reaching into the space above it as if searching for something. You dropped your basket and ran as soon as it became obvious the thing it was searching for was you. A moment’s respite allowed you to reach under your skirt and grab the dagger before you resumed fleeing away from the monster but suddenly a creepy crawly leg swept around you and it was all you could do to jump out of the way.

You stumbled when you hit the ground, but landed on your back, which meant you could stab up at whatever was coming at you and you did. The blade wasn’t long enough to do full damage, but some gore dripped down your arm as you registered a little casualty point and you pulled back and stabbed again as quick as you could, completely unconcerned with whatever came oozing out. It had to be better than being dead, you thought.

You heard another roar and the distinct slice of a finely crafted blade through the air and the legs that had you trapped were suddenly no longer attached to the larger body that was stalking you. It gave you time to move, scramble out of the way and find a spot to regroup. From behind the boulder you saw him. Leather clad, silver hair flowing, steel blade drawn and hacking through more limbs. As he spun for another attack, you glimpsed his dark eyes and shimmery, pale skin.

It was maybe not the time, but his ass looked great too.

“Little help,” the strained call came, as he flipped the beast over, tackling what you took to be the lower extremities. A smooth patch on the chest seemed like it was made for stabbing so you climbed onto the rock and jumped, landing right on top of the beast with your tiny blade finding a home in the furry goo.

One final, ear-splitting shriek and the deed was done. Your compadre stood and held out a hand to help you up and off the steadily shrinking body of the buggy creature you’d just slayed. You felt your feet touch solid ground as you looked up at the mountain of a man who stood before you.

“Alright?” he asked. “I think you got ‘im, but we should head out in case there are more. I don’t think tonight is the right time for this. We’ll come back tomorrow and finish the job.”

“What job?”

“Okay, sure. This wasn’t why you were walking alone late at night in a Krak infested bog? Are you telling me you weren’t hired to clear the area?”

“No?” you answered, unsure what the words coming out of his mouth meant. Was this what a witcher did?

“Were you hired for anything?”

“I’m really not sure what you mean.” You had to find a way to talk to this man coherently. You remembered your basket. “I was just walking back to town from a market. I think I got a little lost.”

“I think you got a lot lost. Can I help you find your way back? I’m Geralt.” His black eyes were ringed with dark circles, but in the moonlight, those looked like they were fading slowly.

You offered your name and a hand, which he shook, and you felt a line of heat rush straight through your arm, down your chest, and into your core. You gasped as the last of the shadows over his face and eyes dissipated, leaving you staring into amber eyes full of flame. The memory of lights piercing the shadows the other night flooded your brain. What if that wasn’t Walter, as you suspected? But no; the howling.

Geralt helped you locate your discarded basket, into which you stuffed your goo-covered corset and cape, eager to be free from the stench and hoping desperately that dry cleaning would do the trick when you were home. You mounted his horse, Roach, with his assistance and he led you into town. He made a beeline straight for an inn, dropping you off at the entrance with instructions to ask about lodging while he found boarding for his horse for the night.

“Oi! You’re late!” an oversized brute behind the bar exclaimed in your direction as you entered the tavern and you froze, unsure what part of the fantasy this could be. “Have ya lost control of yer legs suddenly? Bring the goods here. Now!”

You looked down at the basket with a realization that was confirmed by another shout.

“Yes. That. The basket. Now!”

You were about to begin the trek across the wooden floor to hand off your basket to the foul looking man, when a pair of comforting hands came to rest on your upper arms, holding you firmly in place.

“I think you have the wrong merchant. This basket of goods is mine,” Geralt’s deep and soothing voice growled. “And we require rooms for the night.”

Rooms? Was this not happening?

“Almost full tonight, Witcher. Only one room left.” You stifled a snort at the cliche of it all.

“We’ll take it. And I’d venture to say you’ll want to provide a meal and round on the house. At least one of your swamp monsters is already dead thanks to this one.” Geralt stepped you into the tavern and over to the bar where a key dangled from the innkeeper's hand.

“She took out a Krak?”

“Practically single-handedly.�� There was something like pride in Geralt’s voice, and maybe a little admiration, though you definitely didn't handle that on your own. Still, you grabbed the key with a smirk and turned to find an empty table. Geralt followed once he’d grabbed two tankards of ale, and two plates of stew with bread were set down in front of you after a few moments of awkward silence, during which you took in the clientele. How was the hotel paying all these extras?

“Wolf!” someone called from the entrance and for a moment you thought they’d seen Walter. You looked around, but found nothing other than another sizable man clad in leather and steel making his way to your table.

“Lambert,” Geralt acknowledged him, and introduced you. “What brings you tonight?”

“Just finished up a town over and heard of another job. Looks like you’ve already taken it on. Finished so soon?”

“Hardly started. First kill’s hers anyhow.” Geralt nodded with what appeared to be reverence in your direction.

“Beginner’s luck,” you demurred. “I don’t think a small dagger is going to be of much use with the rest of whatever those were.”

“Looks like I’ll be headed out at first light alone then, to complete the task,” Geralt mumbled, with a comforting look at you before turning attention back to Lambert. “I’d welcome your assistance with this one.”

A barmaid approached to set another tankard of ale in front of your new red-headed table mate and you didn’t miss the way her hand traced over his shoulder and her eyes met his as she walked back toward the counter to continue serving other customers.

“It’s a good thing you’ve found your bed for the night, since we’ve just taken the last one,” Geralt grumbled with a hint of tease.

“Unless you need my assistance with anything else?” Lambert’s tone was clear and they both turned their gazes slowly toward you.

It was a choice. You hadn’t asked for this, but you were being offered an option. Heat filled your cheeks and you cast your eyes down with a sudden shyness. Though two entirely different men, your dream from the other night was somehow presented to you on a platter, and yet…

“I don’t think I’m anything Geralt can’t handle on his own,” you replied, aware this was your call and no one else's.

With the sleeping arrangements out of the way, you spent the next hour or so enjoying stories of training and fighting. If your ears didn’t deceive you, several of their completed jobs seemed to include gratitude delivered by way of sexual favors, sometimes alone, sometimes together. They were cheeky and sly with the language, but the innuendos were there and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about it.

You waived off another round of ale and professed you’d much rather find a tub of warm water to sink into for a bit. Geralt agreed and you both said your goodnights to Lambert.

Settled into the room, you were surprised to find there really was a wooden tub full of tepid water. A large cauldron hung over a roaring fire and you watched as Geralt used a rudimentary crane-like contraption to hoist the pot over the tub and dump its boiling contents into the water below.

“It’ll warm the water for a bit, so you should take advantage now, if you were serious.”

“It doesn’t look like there’s room for both of us,” you mentioned with a little sadness.

“We can take turns, just don’t stay in too long,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. “Do you need any help with your garments?”

With your corset already removed, all that remained was to unlace the heavy woolen skirt and lift the flowing linen gown underneath it over your head. Geralt was a huge help nevertheless and your body shivered as you imagined his fingers tracing every inch of you, not just your waist or the lucky bits of leg that received his touch as he bent to grab the hem of your dress.

He held your hand as you stepped into the tub and sat down, knees bent against your chest. How would he ever manage to fit himself in here? you thought. While you swirled the water around you, you watched as he turned away to unbuckle his leathers and disrobe as well. You were right about his ass.

You smiled a little to yourself at how comfortable getting naked with him was and then you smiled wider when he turned to face you once again, approaching you in all his glory and settling down onto a stool next to the tub with a washcloth in his hand.

Geralt offered to help you wash off, then dunked his hand into the water when you accepted. He ran the soft rag along your back, down your arms, across your chest. He took a few moments to run the soaked cloth along his body as well when the water began to cool much faster than you’d hoped, leaving no opportunity for him to sit in the tub himself. When he “dropped” the rag while dipping it back in the water for another pass, he didn’t hesitate to reach deeper into the tub, fingers searching the bottom for the cloth but finding your bottom instead. He leaned forward to complete the kiss you had asked for with a lick of your lips and smiled into your gasp when his fingers made their way between your legs.

“You know,” he started after pulling away from your hungry mouth, “I do feel as if I owe you a bit of gratitude myself.”

“Why, whatever do you mean, Geralt?” you gently taunted with a fake bit of naivete.

“You were the hero tonight. You deserve a reward.” He stood from the stool, exposing his hardening length, and helped you to stand.

“And will you be my reward?” you purred, clasping your arms around his neck as he lifted you out of the tub.

“Gladly,” he replied, slipping his hands eagerly down your side body and around your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. He captured your mouth again with a searing kiss as he walked toward the bed and deposited you on your back, legs splayed wide and waiting for him.

“Maybe you could finish what you started.”

He dove to the bed next to you and cupped your cunt with a rather large hand.

“This is just the beginning,” he promised as he bent two fingers and slipped them inside. He watched your face with intent as he pumped his fingers in and out, teasing more and more slick from deep inside you. He kissed you when he added a third finger, swallowing the moan that ripped from your throat.

You couldn’t control your hips if you wanted to, bucking up into his hand, trying to pull him in deeper, trying to find the grind that would let you explode. His lips on your jawline, his tongue on your neck, kisses on your collarbone before he nuzzled into you and whispered how good you fucking smelled from here already. All these words of praise and touches of desire sent you right over the edge with an urgent need to crawl back up and do it again.

He must have been expecting you to take some time to recover because he was off guard when you pushed at his shoulder and sent him to his back so you could sit up and swing your legs over his. Settled on his thighs with an eye toward his very large erection, you smiled and made clear your intentions.

“I want you, Geralt. All of you.”

“However you’d like,” he grinned back, one arm tucked behind his head and the other reaching to stroke himself.

“Fuuuuuuuhhhck,” you moaned, watching how he handled himself, sure saliva was probably dripping from the side of your mouth. “Kinda like that.”

You scooted back down his legs and leaned forward, eager to let him feed you the cock he was keeping hard for you. As with every other host, it was going to be impossible to take him all the way, but you were going to give your best effort on the parts you could reach. His hand motion shortened as your mouth took over servicing the head and a few inches of length. You let your tongue swirl around the tip and dripped saliva from your mouth to give both of you something to slide over.

Your pussy was still yearning for touch and since you didn’t need your own hands for the blowjob, you let one travel down your body and between your legs to trace along your folds. You rubbed two fingers over your sensitive clit, curling to dip them into your warm, wet opening a few times before returning to focus attention at the nub.

“I can help with that, if you’d like,” Geralt grunted breathlessly, the arm behind his neck reaching now for your body, prodding you to turn. While you continued to lave over Geralt’s prodigious member, you crawled around to find your knees on either side of his head and when you felt his hand smooth over your ass, you didn’t resist the pull.

You moaned around the cock in your throat while Geralt wrapped his lips around your pussy and licked his way into your slit. Eventually, he let go of his dick and wrapped both hands around your thighs, holding you close against his face and lapping in tandem with the bob of your head.

On more than one occasion you found you could not concentrate effectively on the head you were giving, since the head you were receiving was so mind blowing. You found you had to lift your mouth off his cock and beg for more, scream for him to make you come. When he did, you were able to return to pleasuring him, since he didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry to move you away. Instead, it was as if he were playing a game called ‘how many times can you come on this tongue.’

It became abundantly clear that you were never going to be able to return the favor. Geralt was not interested in coming down your throat, so when you felt like you couldn’t handle one more tender lick, one more urgent suckle, one more flick of the tip of his tongue on your sensitive pearl, you begged off. Pleaded for mercy.

“I’m not done,” he called from the other end of the bed. “I still owe you my gratitude.”

You peeled yourself reluctantly away from his cock and eased yourself around again, to lay alongside him, chest heaving and thighs shaking.

“I can’t fathom how one Krak deserves more than you’ve already given, but I’ll gladly take it, if only you’ll let me rest a moment.” You draped an arm over his chest and drifted your fingers through the dusting of hair you found.

“Perhaps some water?” he offered, reaching for a cup and the pitcher by the bedside. You shared the cool liquid, quenching one thirst while another still burned hot and needy.

“How long can you last? Surely I’m not that bad at oral.”

His laugh was so bright, it was as if the room was suddenly aglow.

“You are excellent at that. I just have a lot of practice not letting go until I’m sure my partner has reached the absolute peak. It’s a point of pride.”

He wasn’t arrogant about it, just matter of fact. He was here to serve.

“What if we simply waited until you were ready again? Surely that wouldn’t take forever.” You trailed your fingers down his chest, through the patch of hair at his abdomen, and onto his still rock hard length. Feeling how firm he was, letting your hand trace the veins, your thumb nudging the helmet of the head, you couldn’t help but be hungry for him again.

You found yourself straddling his thighs once more, eyeing his cock, begging for him to fuck you now.

“Do they have condoms in this time, wherever we are?” If an ancient Greek labyrinth had condoms, surely this medieval inn had them, too. You were still in the hotel after all. He chuckled and nodded toward the nightstand, where you found a plain wooden box that revealed what you were after when opened.

Geralt made to take the packet from you, but you resisted. “Allow me, please.”

You tore open the package and worked the rubber onto the tip, then rolled the sides down and checked the fit. You let him make a final adjustment, but when he leaned up as if to roll you over, you protested.

“I’m good right here,” you purred, grabbing ahold of his sheathed cock and lifting up to position yourself right above him. You set him at your entrance, still dripping from your several orgasms, and lowered yourself good and slow. You were getting used to the size of these men, but that didn’t mean the start didn’t require some care.

Your eyes closed almost involuntarily once you’d taken him to the hilt and you sat motionless for a moment, feeling your core loosen around him. You began a steady pulse, up and down, as you opened your eyes to see him staring up at you with desire. He rested his hands on your hips, neither speeding you up nor slowing you down, just feeling the motion, feeling you.

After a few more strokes, you grabbed his hands and slid them up your body, pressing the palms of his hands against your breasts and tossing your head back at the sensation. He was more than willing to continue cupping and squeezing without your guidance which allowed you to set your hands on his thighs behind you, providing even more leverage for your rise and fall. Now you sped up.

“Fuck, Geralt, this feels so good,” you cried out.

“I can make it better,” he countered, slipping his hands around your ribs and pulling you forward, chest to chest as he captured your lips once more. With his hands firmly holding your head in place, he began to buck up into you and when it seemed like it was going to be to much, he let his hands drift down your back and onto your hips again, to hold you place while he set a punishing pace, thrusting ever harder and deeper into your pulsing core until he finally exploded with a roar. It wasn’t your peak, but you weren’t complaining in the least. He’d fucked you through several tiny orgasms, each ebbing and flowing with ease. If there was nothing more, no additional gratitude the rest of the night, you’d be just fine.

But he was having none of it. He lifted you off and laid you to the side, urging you back against the head of the bed and lifting the covers for you to climb under. Once you were comfy, he left the bed to deal with the condom removal, grabbing an apple and knife from his bag on the way back. You sat and conversed while he fed you thin slices of sweet fruit, taking his own bites after every third for you.

Geralt was easy to talk to. Not overly wordy, but happy to chat nonetheless. Although you wanted to ask questions about the hotel, you knew it would be wildly inappropriate so you stuck with the script for the scene. What would it take to clear the rest of the Kraks? How dangerous would it have been had he gone alone? What’s the most danger he’d ever gotten into? The most fun? How often, exactly, had he and Lambert been thanked simultaneously?

That question was designed to reignite the passion in the room. You weren’t disappointed. The mere telling of the experiences got him rock hard again and it was with delight that you let him take the lead the rest of the evening. Once he’d donned another condom after feasting on your pussy one more time, he took you on your back, legs wrapped around his waist so he could grab at them when he needed to open you wider or lift your leg over his shoulder to find that one final deep spot that had you panting his name and coming hard around him. He took one more lingering kiss, then pulled out and tidied up, joining you back under the covers for a final round of pillow talk before turning in for the night.

Somehow, with the knowledge that the physical part of the evening was over, the air in the room changed and the conversation did as well. He wasn’t overly concerned with keeping the topics to the scene, but you found yourself second guessing if you should ask anything at all about Walter. It seemed rude, even though Mike had been completely open about it. This stay wasn’t that one.

You’d booked an overnight and Geralt hadn’t needed to bend time for you, if that was even something he could do, so you had no direct in with a question about his possible gifts. You could maybe ask why Lambert had called him Wolf, since they were both from the same school. But in the end it was Geralt who brought up Walter, without realizing what he was doing.

“I lucked into this spot. The hotel had just lost one of their best hosts, and the guy was booked solid weeks out. They’re still trying to find another werewolf to take his room, but in the meantime they contacted me and set up this level.”

“How did they find out about you?” you asked, trying to keep your heart rate from spiking at the hint of information about Walter.

“The way they find out about any of us, I suppose. Word of mouth.”

“Do you know what happened to him? The guy before you?” You didn’t think you were holding your breath, but Geralt’s answer told you otherwise.

“Not a clue. I try not to get caught up in the gossip. Hey, are you alright? You look like you’re about to faint. That’s a real skill since you’re already laying down.”

You tried to take a breath and laugh it off at the same time, asking your next question with a feigned indifference. “There’s gossip in this hotel?”

Geralt’s laugh was infectious. “There’s gossip at every hotel, but this one's something else. I think the vampire is the ring leader. I try to stay away from it. Keep my head down. Take care of my guests. And I shouldn't have even said that. Please forgive me.”

It was obvious he wasn't going to give up much more information, if he even knew anything specific to begin with. You tried to stifle a yawn, but Geralt noticed and stood up to blow out the candles illuminating the room, leaving one small oil lamp burning. When he returned to bed, you curled up into his warmth. You felt a little bad about imagining it was Walt you were snuggled next to, but it didn’t stop you from drifting asleep with a smile on your face.

You opened your messaging app as you were about to step out of the cafe where you’d gone for a latte the next morning after dropping your bag at home.

sendmeanangel: you’ll never guess who showed up to get coffee this morning

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble @brattymum96

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

Tags from Werewolf!walter (if you commented):

@ellethespaceunicorn @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 @cinnamoroll-things @caramariehurst @zombicupcake3 @openup-yourmind @shellyshellshell @nickfowlerrr @greensleeves888 @misshinson @thelastsock @princessaxoo @augustsprincess @justjulie1105 @minimin1993 @agniavateira @sammat97 @meb79

if you asked and aren't here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you. Sorry!

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #witcher!geralt #witcher!geralt x reader #henry cavill characters #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt fanfiction #spoopy season #medieval fantasy #mine #deandoesthingstome

324 notes · View notes

cutielando · 5 months

Text

not fair ~ oscar piastri

Summary: Upon joining Formula 1 this year, there has been a lot of scrutiny regarding Oscar and if he was really up for the challenge. More confident than ever in his abilities with you by his side, he is ready to prove everyone wrong.

Words: 1.1k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Formula 1 was no joke.

The amount of stress the drivers were being subjected to was sometimes almost ridiculous. Add that to also being a fresh rookie in the business and you're done for.

That's exactly how Oscar felt ever since joining McLaren for this year's season.

Getting the opportunity was everything he had been working towards ever since he was a little boy just starting up in karting. It was his dream to race in the big leagues, and now it was finally happening.

However, the first half of the season hadn't been going that well for your boyfriend.

He had been having a hard time getting a grip on the car, on the new tracks he hadn't driven before. F1 was much more demanding than F2 and it was taking a while for Oscar to get used to it.

You were there for him every single step of the way, cheering him on and supporting him fully. However, there was just so much you could do.

The thoughts in his head couldn't be controlled and oftentimes he wouldn't let you in because he would think it was something he had to deal with on his own. No matter how many times you asked, he just wouldn't budge.

The summer break had been the one thing both of you had been looking forward to. You had been planning a trip back to Australia so Oscar could visit his parents and you were hoping some time away from the chaos of it all would be good for his mental health.

But of course, Oscar being Oscar, the first thing he did after arriving at his home in Australia was jump in the simulator he had set up at home, practicing different tracks for hours on end.

You would just about convince him to take breaks to eat and use the bathroom.

After 3 days of constantly sitting in the sim chair, you had decided that enough was enough.

It needs to stop.

♡♡♡♡♡

"Baby?" you called out, entering his game room where he had been in ever since he woke up several hours ago.

"Hm?" he barely acknowledged that someone else was in the room with him, his eyes trained on the track he was practicing.

"Can we talk for a minute, please?" you stopped behind his chair and put your hands on his shoulders, trying to get him to come back to Earth.

"In a moment, darling. Just let me finish this race and we'll talk, okay?" he quickly looked up and offered you a smile before his attention was back to the screen.

You sighed but mumbled an okay, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on the top of his head.

Having some time on your hand, you just decided to sit down on the small couch in the corner of the room, scrolling through your phone while waiting.

After a couple of minutes, you heard the simulator turning off and Oscar joining you on the couch, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pecking your temple.

"What did you want to talk about?"

You sighed before twisting around to face him.

"You know I love you, right?" the words made Oscar's stomach turn.

Nothing good ever comes out after those words. Still, he decided to remain calm.

"I do. I love you too"

You nodded, twisting your lips while deep in thought, trying to come up with a nice way to say what you wanted to say.

"I know how hard it's been for you this past few months, signing with McLaren and getting used to the stress and chaos that's F1. And I'm unbelievably proud of you baby, but what you're doing isn't healthy. You're a rookie, baby, you're learning the ropes and nobody expects you to get everything right on your first try. Everyone makes mistakes and the point is to learn from them. I know you've had a rough first half of the season, but it's not over yet. You need to take care of yourself and not let yourself lose sight of the big goal, baby. Obsessing over things and spending every waking moment in that sim while neglecting your health and training isn't helping anyone, my love" you took his face in your hands, cradling it.

He looked at you deeply, knowing that you were right.

He nodded, looking down at your lap so you wouldn't be able to see his lip quivering.

"I just wanted to prove to everyone that I deserve the seat and I deserve to be here" his voice was small, almost like a little child's.

Your heart broke at that.

Seeing your boyfriend fight so hard just so he could prove to his fans that he deserved to be a McLaren driver, putting that huge pressure on his health to prove himself made tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

"Baby, you don't have to prove anything to anyone. You are here for a reason and that is the fact that you are so immensely talented, my love. You've worked your ass off ever since you were a little boy and McLaren saw that, which is exactly why they fought so hard to sign you. You need to give yourself some credit and be proud of where you are, Os" you were caressing his cheek with your thumb, slowly gathering the tears that had started flowing down his cheeks.

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry" he buried his face in your neck, sobs wrecking his body.

You kissed the side of his head as you held him tightly, grateful that he could finally let out everything he had been pushing down for months.

And you were right there for him.

♡♡♡♡♡

Oscar hated being told "I told you so", but he was grateful you got to say that to him in that moment.

Upon returning from the summer break, both McLaren drivers seemingly did a 180 and started absolutely dominating the grid every single race and every single sprint race.

You genuinely thought things couldn't get any better, but then Qatar rolled around.

And Oscar won his first ever Sprint in Formula 1.

To say that you were proud beyond words wouldn't do justice to what you were feeling.

Seeing him holding the P1 trophy made your heart swell and your stomach fill with butterflies like they did when you were just a young teenager falling for Oscar for the first time. Upon seeing him holding that trophy, you found yourself falling in love over and over again.

When the hype after the race finally calmed down and Oscar was finally able to return to his driver room where you had been waiting, there were only 4 words that needed to be said.

"I told you so"

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE

REQUEST HERE

♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list: @outerudeth @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dardouni @saturnssunflower @moony-artemis @blissfulsunsetstuff @samantha-chicago @nikfigueiredo @therealcap @iloveyou3000morgan @daemyratwst @rqlstefanny @bwormie @hangmandruigandmav @kagome45 @enidsinclairaddamsthesecond @tallrock35 @sesamepancakes @boywondrgrayson @evlkking @evie-119 @ijustwanttoreadlols @cixrosie @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @ellouisa17 @paintedbypoetry @hellowgoodbye @lpab @xlinxdax0704 @decafmickey @teti-menchon0604 @ctrlyomomma @sya-skies @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @acidburnsthings @dhanihamidi @mynameisangeloflife @5starl1ght @teamnovalak @ferrarisfailedstrats @basicuniter @jxnellat

218 notes · View notes

junkiespromise · 1 year

Text

the eras - masterlist

Twenty two stories inspired by the lyrics from all Taylor Swift albums.

drivers: mv1, dr3, ln4, sv5, pg10, fa14, cl16, aa23, eo31, lh44, ms47, cs55, gr63, op81.

note/warnings: english is not my native language, so there will probably be some spellings mistakes, even though i will try to have as least as possible. Also, you can request from any of drivers above with whatever songs you want that has not been asigned to a driver, if the song is followed by three dots then you can leave a request for that song. Please read the specific warnings for each story as there will probably be some angst and some topics you may not be comfortable reading :)

PS: I will also be posting other stories and social media Au's and if you want to request for any other song for taylor or any type of Au/imagine freely do so. :)

If you want to get tagged on the next stories just leave a comment and I will do it

Teardrops on my Guitar | pg10

They had been friends for years, her always yearning for him to look at her like she did just once but he never did and she wishes that the girl he loves can adore him like she does.

Tim Mcgraw | ...

"And i was right there beside him all summer long. And then the time i woke up to find that summer gone"

Superstar | ms47 (2.4k words)

Where two young kids fall in love but the world one of them is involved in seems to be against their happiness.

The Way I Loved You | ... & ...

"And he says, you look beautiful tonight, and I feel perfectly fine. But i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain"

Enchanted | cs55

At one of those fancy parties they met, those where she had to be introduced to everybody with a shaking hand or a nod. But she left with a tingling sensation and the need to know more about him.

Back to December | dr3 (soon to be made a series)

She knew that if she could go back in time she would re do everything a do it right this time. But she can't and now she only has those memories left.

Begin Again | pg10 (2.0k words)

All the love she ever knew was one that hurted and burned but at a Parisian coffe shop on a wednesday she realized that maybe that was not all that love had to offer.

Stay, Stay, Stay | mv1 (requested)

"Before you, I'd only dated self-indulgent takers, who took all of their problems out on me, but ypu carry my groceries and now I'm always laughing"

You Are in Love | ln4

Best friends, that's what they called each other, even with the dances and pictures in offices they still called each other that. But a drunk call on a late night might change everything.

Wildest Dreams | sv5 (requested)

"You'll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night, burning it down. Someday when you leave me, I bet these memories. Follow you around"

How You Get The Girl | ln4 (requested)

After months of back and forths and unofficial relationships he finds himself infront of her house completely soaked but with the intention to work things out

Style | ...

"And when we go crushing down, we come back every time, 'cause we never go out of time"

New Years Day | lh44 (requested)

"Don't read the last page, but I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes I want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day"

Gorgeous | ms47

He can't quite understand what he's done to her as she seems to despise him so much, if he only knew the reason why.

I Think He Knows | ln4 (requested)

"Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh We can follow the sparks, I'll drive. So where we gonna go? I whisper in the dark. Where we gonna go? I think he knows"

Cornelia Street | lh44 (requested)

"Windows swung right open, autumn air Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours We bless the rains on Cornelia Street Memorize the creaks in the floor"

The Lakes | sv5

When the world seems to haunt them they find themselves looking for each other on the toughest times

Mirrorball | mv1

Where he tries to do everything to please everybody but when he's with her he can be his true self.

Gold Rush | cl16

Her mind can't understand why everybody is so infatuated by the Charles Leclerc until she finds her heart fluttering when he's around and can not explain it.

Ivy | lh44

Where she finds herself in the claws of a love less relationship and even knowing it's wrong she goes to seek comfort and love in the arms of another

Midnight Rain | ...

"My boy was a montage, a slow-motion, love potion. Jumping off things in the ocean I broke his heart 'cause he was nice"

Maroon | cs55

The rise and fall of a short but, oh, so, ardent relationship, between two strangers who one night met and became more than that.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡ ♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

668 notes · View notes

verstppism · 18 days

Text

Boy's Talk (About You) - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - take me anywhere but home

word count: 1957

masterpost.

synopsis everyone has their secrets, a group chat formed by charles leclerc, pierre gasly, alex albon, lando norris and george russell knows all of them. the 'kill the grid' chat has only one purpose: gossiping about other drivers' lives, romantic and social

or, a casual chat leads to charles confessing a crush on max, who's has been his rival since childhood

If Charles was still half asleep, the iMessage notifications coming from Max definitely woke him up. All the nervousness and anxiety from last night made sense: Max was leaving Brazil and his girlfriend to spend New Years in Monaco. But what were his intentions behind such a sudden decision? If Max really broke up with her, then he wouldn’t be texting the older one on a cold December morning. Or would he? Max Verstappen was a confusing person. One night, he says he’s not happy with his girlfriend, the other he goes on a private padel match with his ex-rival. Things seem to go well between them.

It’s when he posts a photo with his girlfriend after the race that tears everything apart. Still in his racing suit. Messy hair. Still sweating. Everything that belonged to Charles and to him only. In fact, Max was his. Who does she think she is? Charles only thought about how he could talk so casually about Kelly right before calling him “Charlie” and pushing him as far away from Lance as possible in the sprint podium. It was driving him insane — More than he already is. After eternal minutes discussing his own love life and its frustrations, Charles notices he left Max on read, he had accidentally opened the app and his conversation with the other one.

“charlie: good morningg “

“charlie: i am! are u okay? “

Charles was really at a loss at words, so he decided to pretend that he didn’t know where Max was nor that he was a few meters from the blonde’s house.

“maxiee: yeah “

“maxiee: just had a little change of plans and came back to monaco “

“charlie: oh really? “

“charlie: did anything happen or? “

“maxiee: can we talk about this in person? “

“maxiee: we can go to that café you mentioned in the padel match “

He… Remember. Their meeting (date?) was months ago, and he remembers it. Something he slightly mentioned once in a lifetime, and he recalls it in perfect detail. Charles wonders if Max remembers everything that pondered his mind. He asks himself if he recalls their discussions back in their karting days, or when they slowly started to use pet names for the first time. In the end, did Max realize that they were made for each other, even though they were predestined to fight for a whole life?

“charlie: of course! what time? “

“maxiee: im just getting ready, i’ll be there in a couple minutes “

“maxiee: nothing is too far here “

Charles giggles at the last message, like he always did when he exchanged messages with his beloved. After all, it was more of a date orchestrated by Max — he is good at setting up dates so subtly. Or maybe Charles just accepts every invite from the other. — and again, alone together. A more casual reunion this time: without any sport or anyone that could get in their way. It seemed like a dream, Charles hoped it wasn’t.

He didn’t even mind telling his friends of such an important event, just got up from his bed and quickly got ready. Casual clothing and sunglasses to go unnoticed. It wasn’t easy to go on a date in broad daylight in a city as small as Monte Carlo.

—————

It really didn't take long for them to meet. That little cafeteria was one of the secret gems of Monaco, hidden between beautiful historic buildings. As Charles arrived, he already could see Max, stirring coffee and sugar on the delicate little cup. He was looking down, his face with little to no emotion, more like hesitant of… something.

The doorbell ring filled the quiet place when the older entered the place getting the other's attention, which gave a soft and kinda sad smile to him. A smile that wasn't common as the post race ones or those shared in press conferences. ‘This is not the moment to overthink your relationship with him.’ Charles thought.

“I’m not late this time. '' Leclerc broke the awkward silence between them as he sat down. “Yeah… I mean, you live around here, no?” Max sounded somewhat different. Nervous? Sad? Reading his feelings through his face wasn’t Charles’ best ability. “So remember when I told you I would spend New Years in Brazil?”

“Of course! I was also about to ask you about it. Why did you come back home?” He said as he sat down. Home. Not the best wording at the moment, given that he’s actually Dutch and we are somewhere around near South France. It’s what they say: ‘home is where the heart is’. “Like… Did anything happen?”

“Yeah, uh…” Apprehensive. A worried tone filled his voice. “Me and Kelly had a little fight right after Christmas and I thought it would be better for us to part ways. She wasn’t very willing to but… Can I be honest? I was growing tired of being stuck with her.”

Stuck with her. Stuck. Max was tired. Max doesn't like her. At All. Charles felt like his chest was collapsing in the best way possible. How was he supposed to act normally and feel pity for them when butterflies filled his stomach?

“And you know, I only kept the relationship up because of her daughter…” Verstappen smiled while looking at the cup. The older’s intrusive thoughts were telling to adopt a child with that man. He was such a good dad after all! “And PR too. I think our love wasn't reciprocal… I was there for the kid and she was for the status of being a Formula One driver's girlfriend.”

“Oh Max… That's too bad. I’m so sorry for you” A pitiful look surged on Charles’ face, trying to show empathy and not that he was going insane over all of this. “I’m sure you and her will be able to meet again.” A shy smile appeared on the younger’s face when ocean and emerald eyes met. A comfortable silence surrounded them, only the ambient sound and smell of fresh coffee filled the empty café.

“Now that we are on the topic, it may sound rude but I need to get this off my chest. I doubt you two would still be together if you didn't win in 2021.” Still apprehensive, Charles felt safe to talk shit about Max’s ex-girlfriend. When he saw the other’s eyes glitter at the comment, he was sure: the blonde has been waiting forever to do this. “You doubt? I'm 100% sure! After we left RedBull’s party she started talking about marriage, mate. Can you believe that!?”

Minutes that felt like hours passed by. Charles and Max talked about many secrets they've kept for each other for the mere thought of “this is not something you usually tell your best friend, especially when he’s dating a person you don’t really like”. In fact, they would never get to these specific topics – mostly about relationships. Maybe both were scared of oversharing and confessing their true love, ruining it all for once. The older didn't know if delusional thoughts took over, but he felt things were getting intimate, at some point, their feet touched and so their legs proceeded to slightly intertwine.

They didn’t even bother to order food or anything. — and so the waiters did not ask them to. Perhaps it was an obvious date to whoever passed by. When leaving, Max only paid for this coffee cup that was now cold, half drunken and long forgotten on the table. Both got so deep in conversation they forgot the world keeps spinning, and the day goes by, like they always do. Like it always happens. If you didn’t know, you would guess that they were long-distance boyfriends meeting for the first time.

It was almost dusk when they left the café. The orange-ish colors in the sky implied the sun was setting, and so Max and Charles decided to walk home. Staying side by side on a very narrow sidewalk made their shoulders brush at all times.

As they got closer to Leclerc’s house, he noticed that Max started to tense up. Was he scared of something? Scared of leaving Charles? That reaction started to worry him but as soon as they got to the older’s doorstep he spoke up, point blank:

“I… Charlie, the true meaning behind this all-of-a-sudden meeting is that… You are the love of my life. I’m sorry for not noticing it earlier.” Max stuttered, a subtle way to let the other know it was hidden and buried deep inside with fear for years and years. Maybe even his whole life. It drove Charles insane. It’s like he was feeling every single emotion at the same time. He swore he was dying or something. The older man fought every desire to kiss him right here in the middle of an empty sideroad right in front of his house, but he knew it would appear in every headline in worldwide newspapers. “Charles ‘il predestinato’ Leclerc is found kissing Life-long rival Max Verstappen”. That is not the best way to be in the news, probably something that would end their careers or worse: their friendship. With no words left to say, Charles just hugged him tight as if he would disappear at any time. “Je t'aime moi aussi, mon amour” He said as one or two teardrops slid across his cheek.

Feeling something wet hit his shoulder, Max broke the hug but still kept their bodies suspiciously close. He held the other’s face with both big hands as their eyes met once again, but now with much more compassion. After all they’ve gone through, all their ups and downs brought them to this moment. What they’ve been waiting for.

“Wait wait wait.” Charles popped the little bubble they builded to protect themselves from the rest of the world. “Can we get inside first? I mean, it’s very romantic to kiss in the middle of the crosswalk I know but we’re kinda famous so yeah…” Max chuckled at the comment. “Of course we can, schatje”

He unlocked the door and let Verstappen enter as if nothing almost happened a few seconds ago. “Uh… So are-” He’s interrupted by the softest of lips crashing into his own, almost cornering him into a wall like a (ironically) raging bull. For the very first seconds they are both surprised by the feeling but locked in very quickly. This kiss felt like heaven, the way both mouths swayed together felt like they were pieces to a puzzle, just waiting for it to be finally found and placed together. It was definitely not what Charles thought it would be like but it was good nonetheless.

They only broke the kiss when there was no oxygen left in their bodies still, they stayed close, panting and hanging on by a thread of spit. Leclerc hid his face on his lover’s shoulder and started giggling, ending up with a lowkey confused Max.

“Why are you laughing?” He said, with a broad smile on his face. Charles’ laugh was contagious.

“This is so stupid. Why did we take so long to do this?”

It all came down to them snuggling together in Charles’ bed. The moonlight that invaded the room through a slightly opened window shines in their features, giving both an godly look. After a whole day spent with Max, Leclerc seemed to forget about his friends, who might’ve gone insane by his disappearance. So he was right: when checking his phone he’s welcomed with 86 missed calls, – all coming from 4 different people – and at least 300 messages coming from his group chat, Kill the Grid. Charles opens it, doesn’t read any of the past messages and starts typing.

“charlie: guys, youll never know what just happened '' Send it.

taglist: @mrsbrxkkxr , @nyxstice , @thedecalcomania-blog ,@sebastianize <3

93 notes · View notes

clarks-letterman · 1 year

Note

i can’t stop thinking about connor’s cum now so what about him fucking your mouth while giving you technical information about his cum in a seductive way to turn you on and ending up coming in your throat for you to swallow (gender neutral reader please!)

new fuck-tionality | connor x reader

a/n — gahh i'm so sorry this being super late, it must have completely slipped by me in my inbox! also, things have been a bit rough lately.. i tried to make it sexy with logic from the game and such, hopefully its good :') sorry if he's ooc (this can kinda be read as Nines too since they're both Connors)

summary — check the request, added a bit about Connor's getting a new dick.

words — 1.9k

warnings — oral (m receiving), face-fucking, crackfic because i got jokes and i think I'm funny

~~~

The floor was cold and almost impossible to detect the presence of it in the dim light. Connor had turned the bulb's intensity down so as to cast away the janitorial supplies circling him and you, re-tooling its purpose into being the world's most revealing spotlight, but only to you and how you felt. The smell was apparent enough to remind you of their persisting existence, though having artificially scented disinfectants made your nose wrinkle. It was hard to keep your mind from trailing off to those little details, as the beast pointing to the ceiling looked like it would hurt.

Connor's leg flexed, his foot nearly reaching the door of the small closet. "Is everything alright, Detective? You look hesitant. May I remind you that this was your idea?"

It wasn't normally like this, to have one hand down your pants with the other toying with Connor in whatever way you could think of. Not in the slightest. The usual routine was a standard nine-to-five at the office, sharing glances until you returned home with Connor on your heels—another night where he would drift off into rest mode with you by his side, built up to by the sweet pillow-talk about your shared dreams of getting the nicest apartment in Detroit. Then, you woke up, and those dreams would fade away for the time being, except the ones about Connor. He had managed to fulfill them a few times with toys and other things but could never fully understand the way you felt about him.

Last night was the only exception. Connor left work early and didn't tell you where he was going. It wasn't until the next day when taking a seat at the desk next to him, did you finally notice the shift in his behavior. He had taken a glance or two at you before, flashing his dazzling ivory smile if you happened to return the look. But earlier today, you caught him looking, and he stiffened.

"I know, it's just the size of it. Say something. Distract me."

Once you asked to speak with him in private, did it all make sense. Connor's sex drive did exist, but not in the way it presented itself in humans. He had a physical hard drive, motor, and drivers for all of his sexual wants, but physically, the need for sex would never exist. Like sleep, he was perfectly content without it. . . until today.

"I could tell you about my recent trip to CyberLife? All the new features I've been equipped with?"

The well-designed piece was only a short distance from you, waiting for any sort of attention. But that one comment made it look even more impatient.

"I'm already looking at the biggest upgrade. . ."

"Don't just look, Detective. To be good at your job, you have to feel, understand, and gain as much information as the other knows. We are at work, after all." He stated himself with a certain cockiness. “I received an update on my explicit language, too. Though, I’m not sure what brings me the most excitement.”

“Then we’ll test it out,” you said, knowing he started when taking a jab at your shared positions as investigators.

Getting a good look at his dick, your hand barely fit around it, which you knew from one glance. You were unable to tell if it was the dim light or something wrong with your perception, but his new parts looked imperfectly perfect. Human. When it was at its most needy—which would be hard to tell since this new appendage between Connor's legs was artificial; could its appearance deceive you and turn into an actual sword like all those writers described it as?—it curved slightly, like a snake on the hunt for warmth. There was a small birthmark on the side and a few veins emanating a vibrant blue as they pulsed. You weren't sure if they served a purpose like the dulled color of yours or if they were simply for show, another integrative feature in his design. And the skin stretched and folded like that of a real person's when your hand played with it. Even his low-hanging fruit underneath appeared to be slightly out of proportion on one side, becoming apparent as you worked your hand along his length and watched them shift with each motion.

After a few seconds of deliberating with yourself about taking the piece of convincingly real and intimidating plastic, you swilled the saliva in your mouth and eclipsed the tip with your lips.

Near immediately, Connor became a mess of indiscernible noise—a moan, you figured. You had never heard him like this before, so you assumed it was a good thing by the look of his scrunched-up face. He calmed down and tried speaking, "That's one of my new features."

Your eyes flicked up, silently agreeing to hear more.

"I have almost one-billion micro-receptors on it alone. When I feel this way, all of them have a high pressure sensitivity. Anything you do down there feels like when I became a deviant all over again."

You couldn't reply, instead letting him creep further into your mouth, mouth full with no taste of that except your own saliva. He seemed to be the one encouraging you to go deeper, and he felt hotter on your tongue. Was he getting so into this that he started to overheat?

It wasn't really that at all. Connor wanted to keep himself tame to prevent the bruising he knew would happen. He could lie—a welcomed feature of his deviancy—and chalk it up to a software instability. A "calibration of the new hardware," he could say. Connor wasn't human, yet he was more than fallible now that he was no longer a machine. He could never do that, though. Not to you. His dick was his new toy to play with, not you and your fragile body. So, he kept talking to fight his carnal desires.

"Also, everything that comes from it is made in me, like a person. There are some side-effects, though."

That drew your attention away from trying to fit him into your mouth, and you paused.

"Nothing harmful, Detective! Just some by-products of making it with thirium. One of them is that it's actually nutritious, unlike its pure form. It's done through synthesis and filtration of the main mineral that affects hormone production. I believe that, if you had enough of its pure form, you would become addicted to me," he spoke all of it with an assured tone and a small smirk to follow the last comment.

You wouldn't be doing this for him if you weren't already madly addicted to him, but that wouldn't lessen it by any means. The thought of his cock becoming a necessity was a terrifying risk you were willing to take.

"Your heart rate spiked. Are you enjoying this, Detective?"

No secrets, either. That was a dangerous combination. It didn't look like Connor planned to hide anything, too. "I know I am, watching your pretty mouth struggle to take me all. There's something I wanted to try. I wanted to be sure I wouldn't break my toy first."

You reached the base of his dick, all of it radiating heat on your tongue and everything that poured into your throat doing the same. There were a few seconds where you could take it all in; the weight of him on your tongue, how his head tilted up to the ambient lighting, and that Connor must have undone his tie and the first few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. To say this was like a pain to Connor would be a terrible analogy. He could truly feel this, and this felt like heaven. Like his system was overloaded with the small feelings that dogs and heavy metal gave him. He liked those, but he loved this to an extent that meant he wasn't certain how to express them.

It all stemmed from a feeling inside him that he had trouble putting into words. He wanted to jump up and down and solve one-hundred murders and buy you the nicest things he could search up in just a few milliseconds. Then a hand of his found your head, and that's when he knew what to do with his surfeit emotions.

His eyes cast down on you, much harsher than the light, his grip tightened, and you found yourself sliding away from the view between his legs. He was in control, pushing you back down in a matter of seconds after bringing your lips to the tip. Strings of pleasure stirred from Connor's lips. A whimper and moan made up the two main harmonies of his tune, the others being half-spoken words that barely made a lick of sense. He reverted to the strategy of talking again, keeping himself tamer than he would prefer to be. His light-emitting diode flickered a red ring at his self-restraint.

"I think this will be my favorite use of our free time from now on. I had them install more than just this setting, too."

Connor started to lift his hips off the down-turned bucket as a pace formed. He had gotten rough enough for the spit to start to well in your mouth and pump out the sides of your mouth every time he buried his cock deep in you.

"Look at the mess you're making." He spat out, "And when it's all said and done, you will have to—fuck, Detective—meticulously clean it. Wouldn't want anyone uncovering the clues we left behind."

Connor had pushed himself to the edge. Talking about the risky business in the janitor's closet and his newest upgrades would do that to any android or human. But he could see it now. Each case that frustrated him or even a pleasant day could be made a thousand times better with his new relief system.

His hips bucked forward, and his thrusts halted. He went stiff, lifeless against you as his cock filled your throat. The anticipated android release hit your throat and coated it in a color that you would expect to be white, mostly for the simplicity of it all. It kept coming in consistent waves until Connor's high had ridden itself out and the waves crashing in his head settled into a low tide. Some of his dickspit spilled from the corners of your mouth.

Connor didn't need any time to recuperate and simply let you go from his already softening girth. You raised a hand to swipe some of the come from your chin, finding the smeared drop to be a pale blue.

"Does it taste bad?" He asked out of curiosity while cleaning up his appearance by fastening the buttons of his shirt and tightening his tie into the right spot.

"Not really, it mostly tastes like how red ice smells."

"You may not want to come to work tomorrow. An article I read says that actions like that often cause lips to swell and your jaw to feel bruised. We should stay home tomorrow." Connor emphasized we in his suggestion.

"And we can take off the tomorrow after tomorrow. Unfortunately, we're at work right now, so at least those things don't appear until the next day." You said and reached for the door handle to get out as quickly as possible, not that you wanted to leave Connor, but your co-workers—especially Hank—would get suspicious.

"Actually, Detective?" You turned at his call, his innocent voice perforating the air of sexual electricity. "Your tongue, it's blue."

418 notes · View notes

loohser · 10 months

Text

Pedro is The New Cupid pt 2

You woke up the next morning to your phone ringing. You looked at your phone and saw that it was Pedro.

“Good Morning sleeping beauty.”

“Ugh, what do you want?” You lazily rubbed your eyes.

“Hey! That's no way to talk to your best brother in the world.”

“You’re my only brother.” You grumbled.

You hear a laugh in the background of the call on his side. “Well yeah but that’s besides the point. The point is that you need to wake up and get ready. We’re on the way.”

“Okay okay geez, by the way I’m basically almost done getting ready you freak. Also, who’s we?” You got up from the bed and started walking towards the restroom.

“Stop lying, I know you just woke up. I can tell by your voice. And, it’s uhh…a surprise.” He looks back at Bella. “A good surprise.”

You turn on the shower, “Alright well I’m about to hop in the shower so pick up some breakfast on the way yeah? I might be a minute.”

He laughs, “See? I totally knew you just woke up. I’ll try to find something you’ll like. Be there in 40?”

You sigh, “I’ll see what I can do.” You hung up the phone and started getting ready.

—------------

By the time you got out of the shower and got dressed, Pedro was calling you saying that the car was ready outside. You pulled on your shoes and left your hotel. When you walked up to the car Pedro got out and opened the door for you.

“Wow how kind. Is this your way of telling me that I have to pay you back for breakfast?” You smiled at him.

Pedro walked around the car and got into the driver seat. “No I’m not gonna make you pay, you brat. I just wanted to be nice.”

You hummed, “It really does sound like you're buttering me up here. What did you do? Actually, don’t tell me, I’m too scared to find out.” You looked away.

“Well you're gonna find out soon enough.”

You turned and looked at him, “huh?”

“Turn around.” He said.

You froze. You were too scared to turn around and look because you had a feeling that he brought Bella. He laughs at your reaction. “Oh cmon, don’t be a loser, just look.”

You finally turned your head to look in the backseat. You were right, it was none other than Bella fucking Ramsey staring back at you. “Holy shit.” You broke the silence.

Bella immediately started laughing. You covered your mouth and started apologizing. “I’m sorry, what I meant to say is that it’s nice to meet you!”

“No no it’s completely fine! I cuss all the time. Nothing new darling.”

“Darling?” Pedro whispered to himself.

You blushed. Oh my goodness, this could not be happening right now. This is most definitely a dream.

“I’m glad we finally met. Pedro really loves you and said good things.”

You hummed, “Did he tell you to say that?” You side eyed Pedro.

Bella laughed, “I told you she wouldn’t believe me!”

You slapped his arm. “I knew you would do this freak!”

“Alright alright! I did not bring you here so you and Bella could tag team me! This is so unfair.” He grumbled.

Bella and you start laughing. You admired them while they laughed. They are the most perfect human being you have ever met. You’re actually really happy that Pedro snuck Bella here. Being in their presence was enough to bring a smile to your face. “What do you think?”

“Huh?” You looked back at Pedro.

He smirks. “I said, where should we go first? Do you want to go to a museum or have a look at set?”

You gasped at him, “Is that even a question? I’m dying to see where y’all film!” Bella laughs. “Yeah Pedro, my goodness, that’s not even up for debate.”

Pedro rolled his eyes, “yeah yeah. Seriously you two have got to stop ganging up on me. I don’t think I can take it.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Get used to it old man, we’re only gonna get worse.”

—----------------------------

You three made it to set and Bella immediately took you to their trailer. We step inside. “And this is where the magic happens.” They smile.

You look around their trailer. “Mm, smells good in here Bella. I approve.” You nod your head.

Bella blushes, “Yeah? I do try to be a decent human and not leave a trail of stink everywhere I go.” They joke.

“Wow, that’s so kind of you.” You laugh.

Bella looks around. “Ya know, Pedro really does talk about you a lot. He really loves you.”

You look away and smile, “Yeah? I always knew that old man has a soft spot for me.”

You could feel them staring at you. “You’re really pretty.” They confess. You still, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You both stare at each other for a bit. It felt like you both wanted to say something. You cleared your throat. “Um, thanks Bella. You’re too sweet, really.” They chuckle, “thanks. I do try my best.” You sit down on the couch. “So, what do you do when you're not filming? Just chill in here?” They move to sit beside you. “Pretty much. I have my guitar here so I don’t get bored. Also, I like to read.”

“Hey, um has Pedro mentioned something about me to you?”

They look at you confused, “Like what?” You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Never mind, I suppose he was just teasing me.”

“Wait, he did mention something to me.” You raised your eyebrows. Signaling them to continue.

“Something about you having a crush?” Your mouth dropped open. “Yeah, that’s all though, he didn’t tell me who. Something about being locked in the family secret. Which I understand you know, a secret is a secret.” They ramble. “But I do hope that you trust me enough one day to tell me.” They smile.

God they are so cute. You couldn’t believe that they didn’t know. You also made a mental note to absolutely give Pedro shit for this. You felt kinda embarrassed. You shyly looked away from them. “I can’t believe he said something.”

Bella felt bad. They didn’t know that telling you the truth would make you feel like this. Bella observed you for a second. You were looking down at the ground. Bella thought you were the most beautiful person ever. They can’t deny the feeling of jealousy that resides in them whenever Pedro mentioned that you have a crush. Bella knew that it was silly considering that they haven’t met, but now that they have met, Bella didn’t like the idea of you being with anyone other than them.

Bella put their hand on your thigh, “Hey it’s alright. We’re friends. I’m not going to make fun of you or anything.” They chuckle. “Now c'mon, let’s go explore the set, yeah?” Bella gives you their hand.

#bella ramsey fics #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey #bella ramsey x y/n #hbo bella ramsey #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey oneshot #bella ramsey headcanons #bella ramsey drabble #bella ramsey blurb #bella ramsey angst

134 notes · View notes

lvrhughes · 1 year

Text

I’ve always loved you | T. Zegras

word count: 1.2k

pairing: Trevor Zegras x f!reader

summary: after a one night stand, and an embarrassing exit, you and Trevor finally work over all the hurdles to fall in love

warnings: none?

requested: no

not my gif!

Falling in love with a hot-shot hockey player was never the plan.

You were at the bar, he was at the bar, on a high from the win one thing lead to another and you woke up in his arms with a pounding headache.

“Fuck” mumbled out of your mouth, a pounding in you head was all that you could focus on, not the arms around your waist or the fact that this isn’t your bedroom. Trying to sit up is when you finally acknowledged the arms around you, keeping you in place.

“Don’t go” he whined, pulling you impossibly closer.

Who the fuck is that?

You just woken up in a bed that isn’t your, someone’s arms around you, and a killer headache. Sounds like a good way to start the week.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. It’s Monday.”

Panic rushed in you when you realized, you were late for work and hung over. You pushed yourself from his arms, despite his constant pleas not to, and tried to find all items belonging to you. Your shirt was thrown on a chair and your pants just left on the floor.

“Baby, what’s the rush for?”

His voice. The rasp from the early morning, the way it was the most perfect sound you had ever heard almost lured you back to the bed. You turned to look at him, finally. You were in, none other then, Trevor fucking Zegras’ bed.

“oh my fuck” was mumbled by you.

“I- it’s Monday, I have work. I’m sorry.” And with that you rushed out of his apartment. Needless to say he was left so very confused, he hadn’t seen anything wrong with last night, and it was Sunday.

You were sat in the backseat of the Uber, holding your clothes in your arms, only wearing your pants and whatever shirt you had slept in, checking all your notifications from last night. 10 messages from your roommate

‘Where are you?’

‘Are you coming home?’

‘If you don’t answer soon I’m locking the house and I know you don’t have your key’

God damn. Even a few messages from people you barely talk to, sending videos of the party, telling how fun you were last night. You sighed, turning off your phone but not before seeing the date. It was Sunday. Great so you had just ran out thinking it was Monday, you probably looked insane and he probably thought you were too.

Finally the Uber arrived at your house, you thanked the driver and walked slowly towards the doors.

“Where were you?” The door was opened right before you as Estelle questioned you. She was quick, clearly not hung over and clearly interested to where you were.

“I think I just hooked up with Trevor Zegras.”

“WHAT” he reaction was loud, and did nothing to help the pounding in your head.

“Ow, now let me in. I thought it was Monday and ran out, I need more sleep.”

Pushing her out of the doorway you finally padded into your own home and to your room. As soon as you got in, you fell to your bed, sleep overcoming you instantly.

When you woke up later, there was more messages unopened in your phone. An unknown number had messaged you about six times.

‘Hey why’d you run out? You know it’s Sunday?’

‘It’s Trevor btw’

‘This must seem so creepy sorry, I got your number from your friend’

‘Estelle’

‘Fuck sorry I don’t know what I’m doing’

‘I had a good time last night, I don’t know about you but I’d love to do it again’

Holy fuck. This had to be a dream. Trevor Zegras, Anaheim ducks player, a nhl player, had a good night with you and wants to do it again. Fuck.

“ESTELLE”

“Oh good your finally awake.” She said running into your room.

“You gave Trevor my number?”

“Oops” she giggled, of course she did.

That entire incident was now four months ago, and you and Trevor had been hooking up ever since. And currently you were sitting on your couch with Estelle, watching whatever was on tv.

“Estelle, I won’t do this anymore. I have to end it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Trevor. I can’t take it, I think I love him.”

“Oh, why not tell him?”

“Because there’s no way he feels the same. He is a famous hockey player who could do so much better then me. There are so many other girls who are prettier.”

“Why not just try? What’s the worst to happen? He says he doesn’t feel the same, so what. His loss.”

She was right, and you knew it but that doesn’t mean that’s what you would do.

So you ghosted him. When he messaged you for the night, you cleared the notification. When he called you sent it to voicemail. This continued on for three weeks. Finally Trevor broke, he got your address from Estelle. Showed up at 2 in the morning when he couldn’t sleep.

“Y/n” being mumbled in your ear constantly and the slight shaking is what woke you at 2 in the morning. Waking up to Trevor’s face in your was not expected.

“What the fuck?”

“I missed you. Why were you ignoring me?” His voice was soft, he had puppy dog eyes staring at you. Fuck it’s hard to ignore him in person.

“I wasn’t”

“Your lying”

“Mhm” and you rolled over. You needed to stop this.

Despite clearly knowing you didn’t want to see him, he still laid down. He pulled you into his chest, turning you to face him in the process. when you looked up he had a sappy smile on his face.

“What?”

“Your just pretty. And I missed you.”

blush covered your cheeks, burrowing yourself into his chest to hide. He laughed quietly.

“Why were you ignoring me?” He asked again after pressing a gentle kiss to your hair. You just shook your head.

“Come on baby, you got to talk to me.”

“No I don’t. I just don’t want to see you anymore.” You lied right through your teeth. And he could hear it.

“No you don’t, tell me the truth.”

fuck. He knows. He knows you always want to see him, that wouldn’t just change. Fuck it.

“I think I love you.”

he froze, and you knew you had messed up.

“No it’s fine, I know you don’t feel the same. It’s just people fall in love without reason, without wanting. You can’t predict love. And I get that, I get that you won’t love me. There’s better people out there. I understand I swear.” You were going to keep mumbling on to maybe bring yourself some comfort but he cut you off.

“Shut up”

“What”

“Please shut up”

He gave you no time to comprehend what he told you, he just kissed you. Passionately, he tried to put every emotion he was feeling into it. When you pushed him away he spoke fast.

“I love you”

“Trevor…”

“I mean it, I love you so much.”

“Don’t pity me. Don’t tell me something you don’t mean.”

“I mean it. I swear on my life. I love you.”

He gave no time for a response before pulling you back to him and putting his lips on yours.

“How long?” You mumble against his lips.

“Four months”

What. It’s only been four months. He’s only known you four months.

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve always loved you.”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #nhl imagine #anahiem ducks #mads writings!

356 notes · View notes

smoooothoperator · 1 year

Text

What A Shame

05: The Winner Takes It All

Driver! Charles Leclerc x Singer! OC (Juliette Morelli)

Exes to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Childhood Sweathearts

Summary: things are starting to calm down? or is it just the calm before the storm?

Words: 3.1k

warnings: Charles being a lost puppy, Juliette being Meryl Streep for some secons (if you understood the reference tell me), flashbacks are on italics

Official Playlist

Masterlist

previous part | next part

a/n: hey! you just got a free chapter today because is frstive where I live so that means no classes yay!

Every interaction is very welcomed!!!!

🏎️

I walked out of her room. I had a chance to talk with her, but that didn't go how I wanted.

Just when I thought that we were on the same page, talking about my regrets and that I still love her, she just pushed me away.

"What did I do wrong?" I frowned looking at the ground.

I walked through the corridors going outside towards the garden, needing time alone to think. For a moment I saw my Juliette, the one that used to place a band on my thigh and calmed me immediately. The one that smiled and all worries disappeared. For some minutes I had that woman back with me.

But it was just an illusion.

Julitte Morelli is no longer the little girl I fell in love with, she's no longer the next door neighbors' daughter that came to the same school I was, she's no longer the girl that came to cheer for me during all the karting races.

She's a different woman that had matured because I broke her heart. And I'll never forgive myself for doing that.

"Thank God you woke up in time" Carlos said walking towards me. "Pierre was searching you"

I turned around and looked at him. I don't know what shocked him the most, how red were my eyes trying to hold the tears or that I was a functional man after drinking god knows how many glasses of whiskey last night.

"Mate, are you alright?" he frowned, walking closer to me.

"I talked with her" I said, taking a deep breath, smiling weakly. "And… God. I just hurt her so much"

Carlos looked at me and his gaze changed. Again, he's looking at me trying to show his big brother instinct.

"At least now you know it" he sighed.

"No, no… You don't understand" I said shaking my head. "I read her notebook, her lyrics, her poems… She said she had a lover but in that notebook the only name there was mine"

"Well, good for her that she had a lover! She deserved it just after you fucked up everything" he frowned looking at me confused.

"She still loves me" I said. "She… God, how can someone like her, after everything I did… How can someone like her love me?"

I was questioning everything. Every choice I made came to my mind as a list.

The first contract with Ferrari. Sure, it was my dream. I was the second driver but I had Sebastian Vettel as my teammate. The best mentor I could even imagine.

Then Anthoine died. I fought hard that weekend to make him proud, even if that meant no sleep and study every previous race I could. That meant not sleeping with her in bed. First bad decision.

Then Ferrari showed me the contract of the first driver. Everything I ever wanted was in front of my eyes. Wrong, it was something I dreamed about and I promised her to accomplish it with her next to me. Second bad decision.

Being the first driver meant being a leader, fighting hard. I needed to spend more time on the simulator and on the headquarters, away from home and barely going to see my family and my girlfriend. Third bad decision.

I signed for more seasons with Ferrari, rejecting all the contracts other teams showed me promising things and warning me. I didn't believe their words, I defended my team with all my heart. Fourth bad decision.

I never leaned on her anymore, I got distanced and locked myself in the simulator room and did everything Ferrari told me to do. She showed me support and I never appreciated it. Fifth and worst decision.

But the worst decision I took was pushing her away, breaking her heart just because Mattia told me to do that. The worst decision I made was choosing Ferrari over her. Choosing a team that tortured me instead of a person that loved me.

"She hates me, Carlos" I sighed. "And she has every right to do that. I promised her so many things and broke all the promises"

"For example?" he asked me, leading me to sit on a bench that had views to the vineyard.

"That I would never push her away, that I would let her be by my side… That I would marry her" I sighed. "I even wrote it on the final lines of one of the songs she wrote. That promise sounds everytime I hear it, reminding me of that broken promise"

I saw Carlos nodding, taking a deep breath and crossing his arms. The moment I stopped coming to the paddock with Juliette he never asked what happened. He just stood there, looking at me.

"What happened?" he asked, leaning on the door of my room.

"Huh? With what?" I frowned looking up from my phone and leaving it on my lap.

"Did you leave her in Monaco? Is she sick or something?" he asked worriedly.

"Oh, no. She won't come back" I answered looking back at my phone. "We broke up last month"

He stood there on the door, looking at me, scanning me with his eyes. I didn't look worried, like it was the most normal thing on Earth. I mean, a break up is normal. But he knew that it wasn't normal with us. He knew that something was wrong.

"Just say whatever you want to say" I sighed heavily. "I know that all these years you had many things that you wanted to tell me. Go on"

"Just to resume everything… You are an idiot" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Like, a big one. You were so selfish, so greedy. Just because you were in Ferrari, it didn't mean that you were the king. You are not Michael Schumacher, you are Charles Leclerc. You really believed that the nickname they gave you was your destiny"

I swallowed thickly hearing him talk. But I have to stay still, it was my turn to listen to him, to face the consequences of my mistakes.

"You turned down big opportunities just because you loved red" he said. "You never listened to the warnings, to the friendly comments. You kept defending a team that always let you down always blaming yourself for the mistakes"

"I know" I said, looking at my hands. "That's why I left, because I got tired of them"

"But you did that too late" he frowned. "And don't tell me that Ferrari was your childhood dream. Ferrari was the dream of everybody that was on the grid, only a few of us were lucky enough to dress in the red suit. But you took it too far, mate. You made unnecessary sacrifices for them. And now look where you are. It was about damn time that after all this years you faced her"

I sigh and close my eyes, letting my head fall down defeated. Yeah, it was about time that I faced her and confronted all my mistakes.

"But now it's too late, Carlos" I sighed. "Even if I recognize and accept my mistakes, she won't want me back"

"And you deserve that" he scoffed. "You deserve it for being so stupid ad blind"

"I know" I sighed.

I got up and took a deep breath, brushing my hair and looking inside the building. I have to talk with Valerie, the one that might know how to fix this.

I searched for her around, guessing that she would be somewhere here.

"Valerie… Can we talk?" I asked her once I found her, surrounded by a couple of her bridesmaids in her room to get ready.

"Is it urgent?" She frowned. "I mean… I have tk get the last things ready"

"Please" I sighed, holding the handle of the door. "It is"

She sighed and looked at all the girls around her, understanding the gaze she gave them and walked out of the room, making me move a little to let them pass by.

"What did you want to talk about?" she sighed looking at how I sat on a chair close to her.

"Just… About Juliette" I mumbled. "She will never forgive me, right?"

"I mean… You fucked up pretty bad" she shrugged her shoulders. "But maybe you two need to talk"

"I tried, actually" I sigh. "The first time went pretty bad and the second try… Just when I thought that we were talking peacefully she just pushed me out of the room"

"You know her, Charles-"

"No I don't" I frown. "The Juliette Morelli I met this weekend is not my Juliette, is someone else. And I know I made her like that, you don't have to remind me. I just… I don't know how to talk with this her right now"

"Try to sleep with her" she shrugged. "Make her jealous, mad… Whatever to get her attention. Just don't go to her trying to talk because she will get anxious and get her walls up"

"Are you crazy?! I can't sleep with her, not this way!" I exclaimed, like if I was offended.

"Then make her jealous" she sighed. "I know deep inside her she still loves you. You just have to take your Juliette out of this Juliette"

I took a deep breath and nodded. Make her jealous. Okay, maybe I can do that. Right? Maybe dance with someone at the wedding, talk with them while Juliette is near.

I can make her jealous too, right? Yeah, I can.

"Okay, yeah" I nodded. "Your sister is single? Maybe I can talk with her?"

"Stay away from my sister, you idiot!" she laughed.

I chuckled and nodded, getting up and hugging her. I have to get ready, the lunch will be soon and then after that I'll be too busy.

"Charles, can you come please?" Pierre sighed, calling me.

I nodded and walked towards him, frowning when I saw his worrying face.

"Don't tell me you are having second thoughts, please" I begged. "Because then I'm going to kill you"

"No! No, no, is that…" he sighed. "The string quartet that was going to play in the church… Well, there won't be a string quartet anymore"

"Fuck me" I groaned. "No fucking way! They just canceled on the wedding day!"

"Well… Talk with Juliette" he sighed. "Maybe she can sing?"

"Dude, no" I frown. "She's going to kill me if I do that!"

"Please? Just… God, I don't want Valerie to be sad! She had a list of songs she wanted to be played during the wedding! And there's just enough time for Juliette to try them!" he begged, making me sigh and nod.

"Okay, okay… Give me the goddamn list" I sighed. "Why the hell did they call you, by the way? I'm the one that organized that, I thought they were professionals''

"At least you didn't pay them yet" he shrugged his shoulders, sending me a text message with the list of songs. "That's what happens when you give a chance to someone that is a friend of a friend of a friend"

"Whatever" I signed. "They were friends of my piano teacher"

Pierre looked at me nodding, laughing.

"If you weren't my best man and all your songs weren't depressing I would have asked you to play at the wedding" he joked.

"Fuck you, mate! Those signs have many fans" I laugh punching his arm. "Well… I guess I'll go talk with Juliette… Wish me luck"

"Yeah, you'll need it" he joked, making me roll my eyes and walk out of the room.

"Fucking great" I groan.

I prayed that she was in her room just like before. I prayed that she would let me in even after she pushed me out of it.

"Juliette?" I sigh knocking on her door. "Juliette, I need to talk"

I heard rushed steps and then she opened the door. Her hair was wet, body wrapped with a silk robe. No bra. Fuck me.

"What you don't understand about me telling you that I don't want to talk with you?" she frowned.

"The string quartet won't come to the wedding. I need you to sing, or play the guitar or the piano. Whatever that makes music" I said nervously. "Just… Don't do this for me but do it for Valerie"

She looked at me and I felt little. I tried to breathe deeply, standing there in front of her.

"What songs?" she sighed and I felt myself smile a little. "And you better make sure that there's a guitar or a piano on the church after lunch so I can practice"

"Of course" I nodded. "I'll send you the songs… You still have the same number?"

"Yeah" she nodded and I took a deep breath. "Just give me times and I'll do whatever I can"

"I'm sure you'll do it amazing" I said smiling and I saw that she tried to not smile.

Just relax, please. Smile at me, Juliette. Let me see my Juliette.

"Thanks" she nodded. "I'll search the scores, I prefer if there's a piano"

"Yeah, okay" I nodded, sighing.

She won't smile at me anymore.

🎤

I took a deep breath after closing the door, then I heard the bell on my phone, making me sigh when I read the contact name I never changed.

Charles❤️: Guests entry something simple, whatever you can play on the piano is fine

Entry (bridesmaids and groomsmen first, groom with his mother and bride with her father): A Thousand Years, is around 5 minutes

For the exit Valerie wanted Wings by Birdy

I rub my eyes and brush my hair with my fingers. I'll let him in read, I really don't want to talk to him nor text him. But he kept messaging.

Charles❤️: I'll be on the church trying the keyboard

Just in case you want to come and try it by yourself

I groan and lock the phone, leaving it on the bed. Why did I never change his contact name?

I looked at the phone, the only source of light in the room. A week went by, and he didn't call yet.

"Maybe he's just busy" I mumble.

A week ago he broke up with me. A week ago he came to me and told me he wanted to break up, that we weren't working at all anymore, that I was distracting him.

Of course I didn't believe him. He's stressed with this season and needs to focus, maybe he just had a bad race and needed to get all his stress off with me so he said the first thing that came into his mind.

I waited days for a text, then the days became weeks, the weeks became months. I waited every hour for a text of him telling me that he misses me, that he loves me and that he regrets breaking up with me.

But that text never came to my phone. That text never showed up in my notifications, his name never came again.

I sighed, shaking my head, and got ready to get out of my room.

I wanted to go to the restaurant and eat lunch, I really wanted to, my mind wanted to go. But my legs and my heart had other plans, making me go to the church and accepting the fact that he was there, maybe alone playing the piano.

Music came to my ears when I was near the building, piano notes. He was playing, sitting in front of the keyboard with his eyes closed and fingers working all over the keys. It was a sad song, one that you want to hear whenever something is wrong, when someone hurts you.

"You improved" I said walking closer, trying to keep the sadness that song brought me.

"I'm a verified artist in Spotify after all" he said, stopping the music and looking at me with a sad smile. "It's all yours"

He got up and let me sit on the chair. Something deep inside in my heart wanted him to tell me why he composed a sad song, why he played it right now.

I just want answers.

I sigh and sit on the chair, trying the keyboard, playing the songs I'll play at the wedding.

How ironic it is that the song I would have chosen to be played at my dream wedding is the one I'll sing in my best friend's wedding and with the man that broke my heart, the one I wanted to marry, right in front of me.

"It's nice" I nodded, standing up and turning off the keyboard. "I guess I have to be earlier, just to warm up. See you later"

I started to walk away, but then he held my wrist, making me close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Thank you" he said, and I just nodded.

"This is for Valerie" I said, moving my wrist away from his grip. "Don't get the wrong idea"

"You know that's not true" he whispered, trying to hold my hand. "Juliette, you know that we belong together-"

"Don't" I said, turning around. "Don't make me laugh, is not the right place to lie, you know? On a church" I scoffed, looking around.

"Juliette, please… Let me talk" he begged, those green eyes looking at me with anxiety.

"I don't want to talk about the things we've gone through, Charles" I sighed, closing my eyes. "There's nothing more to say"

"Juliette…" he sighed, and I just asked myself how many times he said my name this weekend.

"You know… I just thought that I belonged to your arms" I said, smiling weakly. "That you were home, that you would be the last person that could hurt me. But I was so stupid, a fool,an innocent girl in love"

I heard Charles taking a deep breath. I just want to let my anger go, all the anger in my heart wants to come out.

"I don't want to talk about this because it makes me feel sad" I whisper. "And I know you hate seeing me sad, so please. Leave me…"

"I was there" he interrupted me, taking me by surprise.

“What?” I mumbled.

"I went, I went to some of your concerts, I followed your award shows, I watched every movie you worked in even if I had to watch you making out with someone else that wasn't me! I was there but I couldn't be there! Because I was so afraid of what could happen, Juliette. I was afraid if someone saw us, if someone saw me. I even wrote on papers everything I wanted to tell you all those times, I still have the papers. I just… Please, Juliette… Let me talk"

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow

#f1 #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 serie #formula 1 fic #formula 1 drabble #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine

210 notes · View notes

applejuicefruit · 1 year

Note

Can you write something with neymar where reader is from LA and is visiting ney. Then reader gets homesick and becomes a bit distant, but then ney realizes that she is homesick and comforsts reader.

I really loved your other writings so i had to request this one❤️❤️

Hii! Thank you for requesting this! I didn’t know if you wanted Neymar to be in Brazil or in Paris in this story 🥲 I hope you don’t mind reader’s visiting him Paris.

I really hope you like this ❤️

ps: i remember when i went to london all by myself when i was 16 and i stayed there for a month and i remember telling my friends i was missing home in italy and they just ignored me :) nostalgia is real people !!!

City of Angels

Los Angeles. Your safe place. Your safe heaven. Your home.

You thought no place on Earth could ever compete with your hometown. You had the hills, the beaches, museums and millions of people visiting every year. It was your home.

You lived in a nice cozy apartment on the Hills. It was small but it was everything you ever dreamed of. Every morning you woke up with the beautiful Los Angeles sun coming through your window, the Hollywood sign in background. It was perfect. Your life was perfect.

Also because you were dating famous football player Neymar. Honestly you had no idea of who he was before you googled him. Being a Los Angeles Dodgers fan meant that you knew nothing about football or soccer as you call it to make Neymar mad.

You met in LA, that’s why you are so thankful for this city. You were both attending the same party and the moment your eyes met you knew it was game over. He introduced himself to you and waited for your surprised reaction that never came. It took you a whole week before finding out who he really was. He always loved this side of you. He dated so many people who wanted him only for fame and money, but with you things were different, you were so pure and kind and not affected by fame or popularity. Probably because that was the normality in LA.

You were getting ready for going to the airport, ready to leave the City of Angeles behind and spend the next two months in Paris with your boyfriend Neymar. You were so excited to see him again but honestly you couldn’t stop but feeling a little sad leaving this city behind. You let a few tears fall while watching the Hollywood sign from your bedroom. Then you closed all the suitcases and left for for the airport.

Almost 9 hours of flight after and you landed in Paris. Neymar couldn’t come and get you because he was practicing that day so he sent one of drivers to come and get you.

The moment you left the airport shock hit you. The sky was so grey you couldn’t even see the clouds, it was raining and it was freezing cold. You weren’t ready for this.

You smiled at his driver and got into the car while you were watching the view from your passenger side.

“Why everything seems so boring?” you asked yourself hoping Ney’s driver didn’t hear you. But he was too focused on the road to even pay attention to you.

Once you’ve arrived, the driver helped you into Ney’s apartment and then left. Neymar gave you his spare keys when he was in Los Angeles visiting you.

His apartment was huge.

Literally huge. It took you almost 20 minutes to visit every room. His apartment included an indoor pool and gym, five bedrooms and 5 bathrooms, a theatre room, a playroom, a large kitchen and a living room with the amazing view of the eiffel tower.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad” you hoped.

You were sitting on the couch watching some weird french movie that you couldn’t even understand when Neymar appeared in the living room.

“You already got yourself comfortable I see” he said coming behind you and kissing your head

“Ney!!” you jumped on his arms the moment you saw him

“Did you miss me angel?” he asked kissing you while he hold you by your ass

“Very much” you replied between kisses

“There are so many things I want to show you” he told you. And so it was. For he first two days he didn’t have practice so he showed you around Paris. It was nice actually. A bit cold but it was good. You loved the museums, the architecture, the churches.

But after the first week passed nostalgia hit you hard. You started missing the sun and the warm of your beautiful city.

One morning depression hit you really bad. You woke up and it was raining so much you couldn’t even go outside and get breakfast. So you stayed at home, sat on the couch with a fluffy blanked around your body watching the rain coming down from the window.

You couldn’t help but let a few tears fall. You’ve never been so nostalgic, but here you are.

You were so stressed that you didn’t even hear Neymar coming out from the bathroom, freshly showered. He was wearing a black t-shirt and some sport pants.

“Meu amor?” he gently approached you, slightly worried when he saw you crying “are you okay?”

“Yes…” you said wiping a few tears from your face

“Sure…” he sat next to you “care to tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s silly…”

“If you’re crying it’s not silly”

“I just-I miss home…” you said letting more tears fall

“What-what you mean?” he asked you a bit worried “you don’t like it here?”

“It’s not that…it’s just-it’s just that I miss Los Angeles so much…I’ve never been this nostalgic I don’t know what has gotten into me, I’m sorry”

“No baby, don’t be sorry, it’s completely normal” he said hugging you “you’ve never been away from home this much, it’s normal feeling a bit sad”

“I know I just wished I didn’t cry…”

“You can cry all you want with me” he said kissing your forehead

“Thank you babe…I really needed it”

“Of course meu amor…you know what? I don’t have any match next week…what if we go back to Los Angeles for a couple of days? Ah? You can show me that crazy fast food you can’t stop talking about!”

“You mean In N Out?” you asked while your eyes were completely shining

“Yes that one”

“Are you sure? I know you love Paris…and it’s your free week…”

“I’m happy as long as you are. And clearly you’re feeling a little bit distressed now…nothing would make me happy than to go back in Los Angeles with you amor”

“I love you so much Ney!” you said wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him while he held your hips

“I love you too baby, so fucking much…” he whispered while you kept kissing.

You couldn’t ask for more. In the end, your life was really perfect.

#neymar one shot #neymar smut #neymar angst #neymar fluff #neymarjrxreader #neymar x reader #neymarjr x reader #neymar #neymar junior #neymar imagines #neymar imagine #psg #paris saint germain #world cup #footballers x reader #football fan #football imagine #brazil

284 notes · View notes

hornyfor-redacted-onmain · 3 months

Text

Minho: Glow

In Your Past - Chapter 2

Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU

Living in a world where soulmates are real, and everyone deals with it differently. Prequel to 'Pieces of My Heart'; how each member dealt with their soul marks, and first meetings.

Masterlist | Pieces Of My Heart

Minho never put much value behind the idea of soulmates. Neither of his parents ever had a soulmate, and they were happily married. His aunt had married and then divorced her soulmate after he had cheated on her, and he was forced to watch as his childhood best friend's soulmark went grey one fateful afternoon, their cries filling the classroom as they mourned a soulmate they never got to meet.

As far as Minho was concerned, not having a soulmate was more of a blessing than a curse.

When he turned 18, he found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. Chan didnt notice his soulmark for almost a full month, so Minho found himself periodically checking in on himself. No strange emotions, tastes, sounds, touches. He would wake up and try to remember his dreams, but they were as nonsensical as most dreams were. He didnt feel too cold or too hot, even as they traveled overseas. And he would definitely notice if he suddenly teleported or woke up in another persons body, so he was free from even rare soulmarks.

And that was okay.

He would tend to his members with home-cooked meals and gentle teasing, he would play with his cats when he was back home, he could feel the love Stay sent them from all around the world, and his parents would often call just to tell him how proud they were. He was happy and he didnt need a soulmate.

He already had everything he could every need. He planned to live a great life with the people he cared about and that was more than enough.

But then the universe had to throw a wrench into his plans.

When the message showed up in the stray kids chat, Seungmin had suddenly stopped in the middle of the store. He stared at his phone long enough that Minho started to grow curious, grabbing his own phone out from his pocket, but Seungmin spoke up before he could even unlock it.

"Jeongin found his soulmate."

Minho blinked. "Ahh."

Minho called Chan as they were in the check out line. His leader answered on the first ring.

"Hey."

"Hey, we're almost finished up here."

"Right. Good." There was a certain tilt to his voice, one that he narrowed his eyes at.

"So, Jeongin found his soulmate?"

"Ah, you heard."

"You put it in the group chat. Of course I heard."

"Hmm. When you get back, bring Seungmin to your room with you. We have a surprise."

"Right."

He hanged up afterwards, not even thinking twice about the surprise. They finished up at the store and made their way back to the hotel in silence.

Seungmin brought it up first, as they were in the elevator. "Do you think they're nice?"

"The soulmate?" Minho asked.

Seungmin gave him a look. "No, the taxi driver."

"Hmm, I think most taxi drivers are nice if you're nice to them first. But thats probably just for the money."

"I hate you."

Minho smirked. "No you dont."

The elevator opened, and Seungmin shuffled down the hall. "I want a divorce."

"I get custody of Felix."

"You wish."

He grabbed Seungmin as the younger man stopped outside his door, dragging him by the collar to the room he shared with Jeongin. The youngest had the room key, so he knocked on the door.

"Open up, Chan."

Seungmin shook off his hand. "Rude."

"Eh, you love it."

Seungmin was probably seconds away from making a sarcastic remark when the door opened up, and both of them paused at the stranger on the other side.

Minho's heart skipped a beat.

The person in front of him was glowing. And not in a cheesy 'they were the most beautiful person he had ever seen' kind of way, but in a 'their body was engulfed with a soft hazy glow' kind of way. It was like someone was shining a light on them from behind.

Minho never put much weight on soulmates before.

"You must be Jeongin's soulmate."

They nodded, and Minho found himself unable to look away. Their eyes, their nervous smile, their hands locked tightly on the door. He met their eyes and he could see the understanding behind them, not a hint of surprise at meeting their supposed soulmate.

When Chan appeared behind them, his hand grabbed their shoulder softly. His leader looked at Jeongin's soulmate with more affection than would be acceptable, and Minho knew something was going on. He stared at the stranger, the person that was destined to be his other half according to the universe, and he wondered if maybe there had been a mistake.

"Lee know."

His eyes darted up to meet Chan's. There was an unspoken message on his face. The same look when he was invited to join Stray Kids all those years ago, and he had doubted his own abilities. The reassurance he had been given.

'Do you trust me?'

Minho blinked slowly. "Hyung."

He gave his soulmate a sharp nod as he passed, dropping his bag into Hyunjin's lap and making himself at home in the armchair. Chan joined him shortly after.

"You have a lot of explaining to do."

"Hmm, I'll tell you the full story later. All you need to know is that Jeongin's soulmate, is our soulmate."

"Oh?"

"All 8 of us." Chan leaned closer, whispering into his ear. "And Seungmin's the only one who doesnt know yet."

That caught his attention. When his, no, their, soulmate turned to look at them, he couldnt stop the smile that pulled at his lips from their wide eyed gaze. It was cute.

Minho didnt need a soulmate.

He didnt want a soulmate.

But somehow, he found himself intrigued. Somebody the universe considered to be perfect not just for him, but for every member? He was curious about what kind of person they would turn out to be.

Suddenly a soulmate didnt seem so bad.

34 notes · View notes

somejazzinthemorning · 1 year

Text

tightrope. 01

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language, I guess? Word Count: ~4.253

— Just hold my hand. If you are afraid, you can hold my hand.

And it was so cold, my hand froze when I pulled it out from under the covers to extend it towards him. Carlos was on the bed across from mine, his hand stretched out toward me. The beds were far enough apart that I could barely reach him with my fingers. We both got as close as possible to the edge of the bed, the whisper of sheets spreading through the room. I grabbed two of his fingers. He smiled at me. And we fell asleep like that, with our fingers intertwined, hovering over the face of my brother, lying on a mattress between the beds. Eventually, after I had fallen asleep, I let go of his hand and hid it under the blankets. When I woke up, I had both hands on the pillow, but his was down on the side of the bed, his fingers still outstretched—not towards me, but pointed at the floor. And there was no longer a storm and I was no longer afraid.

Chapter 01

Looking back, it warms my heart to remember moments like those.

We are so much older now; Our lives took a major turn and we barely speak anymore. I don’t even know if he remembers that episode, but I think about it a lot.

The idea of him appears in my mind in moments I don’t expect, like when it’s raining, and, in the search for comfort and warmth in my pockets, I remember how warm his hands always were and that’s when I realize how much I’ve missed him.

How much I’ve missed having him around.

And the fact that I couldn’t just text him and ask him to hang out made everything worse. I knew I shouldn’t dwell on the past, but sometimes it was hard not to.

Especially when the present was so lonely.

We gradually stopped talking when he signed for McLaren. He had a lot of responsibility on his shoulder and he would spend a lot of time in the factory, or London with his teammate. He had to train more, learn more, read more, help more. He was a mentor, now. At least, that was what he told me — always the same excuse, no matter the occasion.

“I’ve been so busy”, he would say. “I’m sorry, but I know you understand.”

And I would nod.

I went to the Spanish GP in 2019. We didn’t get to talk. He was busy, it was a busy weekend. A lot to do and a lot of people to meet. I know you understand. The same happened in Monaco and Silverstone. He promised me then he would show up for my birthday party, happening some days after the Grand Prix. And just hours before the dinner, a text.

“I can’t make it. I’ll send you something over the mail.”

I stopped caring. Or, at least, I pretended I did.

That’s just how it is with some people.

You grow apart and move on. That’s fine. That’s life.

But I couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought about that stormy night and how we fell asleep holding hands. Or if that also disappeared in time.

I resented him for a lot of reasons and, to be honest, looking back I was quite happy about the separation the universe forced upon us. I resented him more than Rio, my brother, ever did. Their friendship only grew stronger. But Rio was a better person than me. He welcomed the uncertainties and he was grateful for them. He found wonder where I just found pain. I was more melancholic, driven by nostalgia and memories.

Thinking about what would have happened if we had gotten a place for Rio in GP3 consumed my days. Not enough money and not good enough sponsors shortened his chase for the dream.

Carlos, on the other end? We all know how it went for him.

He used to call Rio and tell him about what he was doing, the simulators he got to try and the drivers he worked with. My brother was so happy for his friend that I think he forgot to be sad for himself.

So I was sad for both; Each year sadder, because distance grew with time until Carlos stretched it to a point that nothing seemed capable to make us fall back into place.

There came a point in my life where I accepted that things were going to stay like that.

I would see him once or twice a year if he bothered to show up to the occasions, and we would be civil. And we were. Always civil. Polite. He would talk to me as one would talk to a stranger. I would do the same.

Didn’t take long for us to become strangers. And suddenly, I became the one that didn’t bother to show up to family dinners when he was in the city. He stopped going on our annual ski trip to the Alps.

That being said, I absolutely didn’t expect to meet him that way, around midnight, in the dark cold garage, with his hand outstretched towards me, frozen in the air, to assist me in getting out of the car.

It felt like an eternity before I could come back to myself again after seeing him. I was still seated in the driver's seat, my helmet covering my head and the visor blurring the lines of his face. My eyes were desperately attempting to draw new lines across his features, but it was a tough task to make sense of the chaos. I kept looking at him, trying to find something that I could recognise, something that would make me feel at ease. But nothing seemed to be familiar.

It was like looking at a stranger, a stranger with a face that I once knew.

Rejecting his assistance, I got out of the car and, from the corner of my eye I saw him sliding his hand back into his pocket. I couldn’t find myself saying or doing anything. I stood there, taking him in, rejecting the idea of taking out my helmet and seeing him clearly.

A year had passed. Of course, I had seen him on television, on social media, on posters and photographs around the circuits and streets, but—

“It’s been a while,” he broke the silence.

“Yeah,” I wanked off my helmet and balaclava. “It has.”

Arms slightly apart, a silent invitation for a hug I knew I didn’t want to give him. I turned my back on him, closed the door of the car and left my belongings on one of the counters of the garage. On the chrome of one of the cabinets, the reflection of his face.

Different, but the same. Older, but his eyes had the light he had as a boy. But he was a man, now, not the boy I once really liked, the boy I thought I was not capable of living without.

Anyways, he was still Carlos.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my body tensing up, twisting around itself, turning back to him.

“I came to see you,” he replied, a hint of a smile in his voice. His hands were still in his pockets, his eyes drifting from me to the car. “I heard you’re doing well in the championship, so I wanted to see how you’re really doing.”

I nodded my head in a polite gesture, though my mind was still reeling from the surprise of seeing him again. I muttered a simple “I’m fine, as you might have heard, too.”

“Glad to hear that.”

The bright red of his team polo shone through his black puffer jacket. He was probably there on behalf of his team, for some PR duties, most likely. I reached up to my neck to undo the velcro of my suit and unzip it slightly.

Despite being the middle of July, when summer is normally at its hottest, the evening air was chilly. I could feel the cold breeze of the night, making my skin feel clammy and sticky with sweat. My hair was plastered to my face and neck, and I shivered as the chill settled in my bones.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked, my fingers undoing the band that hold my braid together. After that, I passed my fingers between the strands of hair.

“Well… I saw the schedule online,” he finally moved. Walking towards the car, a black, red and yellow Ferrari 488 EVO. “Rio just confirmed you were here.”

My mechanics were still inside, packing up tools in the carts and cleaning the oil-stained floor, that the too-bright lights did nothing to hide. The smell of rubber and oil lingered inside the garage, perhaps even in my hair.

“Why didn’t you come to see me before?”

“I don’t know,” he said. His voice carried some kind of serenity and tranquillity that was making me as mad as nauseous. He turned back to me. “I was waiting for the right moment, I guess.”

"And what made tonight the right moment?" My eyes didn’t leave the red of his polo, peaking through the jacket.

Convenience made it the right moment.

"I don't know," was his response. The cadence of it rang hollow, underwhelming some expectations I didn’t know I still harboured.

Suddenly, I felt the attention of some mechanics fall on us, curious eyes discreetly lurking at us, or better, at Carlos. The Ferrari driver standing in my small team’s garage. The newest Formula One race winner. Carlos Sainz.

I started walking out, to the pit lane, and he, circling around the car, but not lifting his eyes from it, followed me closely.

“Just felt like it was time.”

“Time for what, exactly?”

He caught my arm and I stepped outside, turning me around and making me look at him. I don’t know if it was the breeze or the piercing gaze he held, but something shifted inside the second my eyes met his.

“To talk to you,” he answered to the question I had honestly forgotten I’d asked. “Can we do that without you running away?”

His hair was longer and slicked back. The beard was not too long, but not clean shaved either. At this hour, with only the garage lights brightening half of his face and the heavy shadows of the night weighing down the other, he looked even more handsome than I remembered.

I felt my heart skip a beat. That feeling I recognized too well. His effect. His aura, his gaze, his perfectly drawn face and his fucking voice—so deep, so earthy. Something about him, only him.

“We’ve nothing to talk about,” I finally said, looking down at his hand; long fingers wrapped around the black sleeve of my suit. He let go. “We’ve moved on, we’re both doing great. Congrats on that win, by the way.”

“Eva.” I always loved the way my name sounded when he was the one who voiced it. “Come one. I just want to talk to you.”

“Why?”´

“I don’t know,” again. A pause. “I just missed you, I guess.”

You guess.

Almost three years apart, one year without being in the same room. I don’t know why it didn’t make me happy to hear that. After all, I had spent the last few years waiting for him to say it. At the same time, the realisation that if he missed me, it was only his fault and he could survive another day away from me, from us.

But, surprised by my own words, I let out an "I missed you too.”

And he smiled.

God, that smile. That same smile he had as a teen. That same smile I kept seeing on every video, in every interview. That same smile that once made me fall for him. I liked him. I really did. I used to confess, only to myself, that I loved him.

I loved him in the way children do, in a way so genuine and pure that it actually seems and feels like a fairytale. I loved him in the way little girls do, in the blushed cheeks, weird sentences, poor jokes and a lot of giggles way.

My heart would explode each time I laid my eyes on him, which happened a lot because we basically grew up together.

And that hasn’t changed.

My heart was racing. Its sound muffled any thoughts in my head and soothed the rage boiling inside. He had grown up and become a man and, at that moment, looking at him and his smile, being hypnotised by his gaze, I went back to being that little girl.

I had never stopped caring. I’d never stopped loving him.

One thing had changed, though. I had grown past that middle-school crush and I knew that no matter how much I’d missed him we would never come back to that pure, simple, naive version of ourselves. The memories I had were nothing more than fragments of the past and I could not let myself fall into the traps of my hopelessly romantic patterns in an attempt to find them.

I took a deep breath.

The smell of burnt tires and the noise of the rattle guns woke me up from my trance.

Over Carlos’ shoulder, Rio’s silhouette grew bigger as he sprinted down the pit lane. Fast-paced with a big smile on his face and holding his iPad in his hands, he positioned himself beside Carlos, not before patting him on the back.

“So, you found her,” Carlos nodded at my brother’s words, his hands back in his pockets. “Is everything okay?”

Carlos and I exchanged looks. He was still smiling and, for some reason, I felt defeated. Through the silence, Rio could probably hear my thoughts. He fixed his gaze on me, those deep green eyes, forcing an answer out of me.

“Yeah,” I finally burst. “Everything’s fine.”

“Nice,” he took my side and extended the iPad out to me.

Tiny notes in red and blue were written across the outline of the circuit, with numbers and words coupled around the corners. Graphics and reports on the following pages, just the distraction I needed.

“It’s looking good, Evita,” my brother said, excited. “Seems like winning tomorrow won’t be too difficult.”

My pace in the race simulations during the morning testing was great and we had gathered enough data to not be too worried about the next day's race. Besides, the small issues I’d found with the wheel were quickly fixed by the team. Nothing to worry about.

“I’ll be going now,” my eyes moved up from the screen, finding Carlos’. His gaze seemed to be waiting for something, and after a beat, he said, “Unless you need any help.” His words held an almost pleading quality.

I looked back down at the screen, trying to kill the tug of sympathy he’d awoken just then. “We don’t,” I said; from the corner of my eye, I saw Rio looking at his friend, an apologetic look on his face. “I’ll see you around, Sainz.”

And then, he was gone and Rio didn’t even try to confront my attitude. Carlos stopped walking when he was just a black shadow against the strong light of a spotlight positioned at the end of the pit lane.

“If you have plans, you can go,” I said.

“Wait for me for breakfast, tomorrow,” Rio slid up the zipper of his jacket. “Try to get some good rest, tonight.”

Some kind of weight forced my head down, until I was more than sure they wouldn’t be there when I looked up. Alone in the pit lane, I looked at the iPad, trying to find a distraction to avoid processing what had just happened—just like he used to do before, he inebriated me with his presence and stripped me from any shield I had held against him.

For a brief moment, I hoped to win the next day’s race, not just to win it, but to see him under the podium. Show him I was doing good, in fact, showing him that I was doing great. But then, like the universe was punishing me for my thoughts, it all came crashing down. I was not there as he celebrated his maiden win. He didn’t deserve to the there tomorrow. He didn’t deserve to be here today.

That night, when I lay down to sleep, nostalgia was running in my blood. My skin burning like his presence had started a fever that was taking me whole. Fingers tingling. Soul aching.

I tried so hard to convince myself it would have been better if he hadn’t shown up but at the same time, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he had taken some time for me, and that was everything I had desired for a long time.

Just some time. Some attention. To feel that I mattered to him.

And I finally got it and, having it, relief came accompanied by a whirlwind of doubt. That encounter wasn’t nearly enough to fix anything. He shouldn’t be there. He didn’t deserve to be there, to be around. He had to do more for me if he wanted to mend something.

And that sparked another idea: if that’s all I needed— everything I'd done for him to be repaid, then I'd never loved him. Because this wasn't the love, in its purest form, that I’d once thought I felt.

That was not caring. That was not love.

Love is not selfish. Is not needy. Is not asking for too much attention or being content with a small fraction of someone else's time. Love is about commitment, and not about expecting the same in return.

I was not okay with being an option, I was not okay with a fraction of his time. I was not okay with being a past-time for when he finds the time, but I was also not okay with the idea of losing him, again. Not that I ever had him, not that I had him just because he came back, but at least, I had a bit of him. And I was not okay with the idea of losing him completely. To disappear from his world. To be forgotten by him. Again.

I was not okay with the idea of moving on without him.

I was not okay with the idea of him moving on without me.

I was not okay with any of this, but I did not know what to do. Too quickly, I failed my own promise. I was too deep in the memories and my mind was already finding ways to chase them. I felt lost.

That night I dreamed about the stormy night. I pictured his adult form on the bed in front of me. The adult me was still scared of thunderstorms. Our hands were extended towards each other, but this time the beds were too apart, and I couldn’t reach him.

He made no effort to reach me.

__________________________________

Of course, he was not there.

Rio pushed me into a thigh hug as I got off the car, muttering words of praise in my ear. “So proud, so proud, you’re amazing.” Fucking hell, it felt amazing. There wasn’t a moment when we thought we weren’t gonna win that race, but each corner was an opportunity to take risks and increase the lead. The gap to the second car stretched with every lap, the machine roared around me in an amazing symphony. The track was amazing. The light rain only helped. The team was ecstatic. Hugs, victory songs, a lot of laughter.

Another win. Three in a row.

Mugello had an incredible public and an incredible atmosphere. Red and yellow all over the place, prancing horses in every hat or flag. I stood on the podium, watery eyes when the crowd joined the Italian anthem that played on full volume. I looked for him—I should know better, but of course, I looked for him—and he was not there. The champagne washed away any pain the disappointment had caused and my brother's smile, celebrating on the pit lane floor alongside the entire team, made me forget about anything other than the race I had just won.

After that, a long shower followed. Half drunk on champagne, we rummaged into the town, finding rivals and friends amongst Italian teens in the nightclubs.

Another podium and I had my championship. Two races left. It could not escape.

And after three wins in a row, a podium seemed an easy task.

And those were enough reasons to celebrate like tomorrow would not exist. We danced the night away, flirting my way through the bottles on display in the club’s bar. We stepped outside well before 6 am, the sun already peaking between the old beautiful buildings.

“Not that you really care, but I won.”

In my defence, I was pretty drunk when I sent that to Carlos, drunk enough to think into it but apparently sharp enough to escape any typing mistakes.

Rio was trying to find us a uber to take us back to the RV, but he was taking his time and I was bored and drunk and with a loose tongue. The alcohol was siding with my anger, the rage making my stomach twist. Very quickly, the status of the message changed from “sent” to “read”, but there was no sign of a response.

He read the message. He was awake.

Impatient as always, I called him. He picked up right away.

“Hey,” he said. Hoarse, deep voice. I can’t lie and say it didn’t make my stomach twist even more.

“Hi,” my brother looked back confused, likely trying to figure out who I was talking to. As quickly as he had turned around to me, I turned his attention back to his phone. “I’m drunk.”

“I can tell.”

“I want to talk to you,” I heard a sigh on the other end and the ruffle of sheets. “Maybe later?”

“No, no,” he rushed to say. I heard him breathe, and then his sleepy voice spoke again. “Talk about what?”

“The past.” A pause. “How it hurts to know you’ve always had time for Rio. You go out every. time. you’re in Madrid.” Another pause. My gaze fell on a pigeon walking around in front of me. “Why were you sooooo busy to see me but always had time for him?”

“I was an idiot. That’s how.”

“You were.” I was nodding, although he could not see me. “Oh, God, you are. And I am too. And I was because you were so… shitty to me sometimes, and I always forgave you because I understood your life and because I understood your work and I loved you. Oh my God, I loved you. And you were a fucking idiot. You didn’t even s—”

“Eva… I’m sorry. I—”

“No, I don’t want your apology.” The pigeon took flight, as my voice burst out to stop him from talking. “I just want you to know it hurts. And coming were on the night before a race? For real?” I paused. “Also, think about all the conversations we had on the phone when you moved to the UK and you were feeling homesick. All that time, I used to think I reminded you of home.” I chortled at my own stupidity. “And I was so fucking stupid,” a short laugh erupted through my lips again, “so so stupid because it took me months to realize you only called me because I was the only person that would pick up the phone at any time. You knew that, you used that, you used me.”

“That's not tru—”

“Don’t! Don’t interrupt me, please.” He mumbled a fast apology. “Until today, I felt like you owed me something. But… “ I took my hand to my stomach, feeling sick all of a sudden. “It’s not your fault I had all these expectations.”

I said too much, too fast, and my stomach was aching, my mind was rushing and the world was spinning around me. Carlos then started talking but I couldn’t hear his voice clearly. I put the phone down on the step I was sitting on and leaned forward. The only thing I could see, besides the cobblestones and the pigeon that had come back, was Rio’s feet, rushing back to me.

“You okay?”

“Drunk as fuck,” I replied and, as an answer, I got a small chuckle from him.

I lay down my head on his shoulder, my eyes closing for mere seconds; the soft sensation of his lips against my hair made me open them again.

“Just please,” he paused and stroked my back gently, “please, don’t throw up in the uber.”

A tired chuckle managed to drag itself from my lips, an antithesis to my watery eyes and sick stomach. A car stopped in front of us and my brother’s firm embrace accompanied me there. Settling down on the too-hot and too-smelly car, I opened my eyes to collect the last image from that weekend: the first rays of sunshine dropping over the Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral, its dome painted across the periwinkle sky, the lines of it experimental and incoherent due to the layer of tears that blurred my vision.

Next Chapter: 02.

_______

Hello there, soooo I hope you enjoy this. I’ve been writing Tightrope for like 5/6 months, now? It’s been a while, I know. I have a few chapters ready and I’m loving to write Eva and Carlos so much that I feel it’s time to share them with the world. I’m thinking about doing weekly updates, maybe sunday nights? If I’m not talking to the void, you can give me your opinions on that. Also, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for eventual mistakes.

All the love, Bru 🤍

#Carlos Sainz #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #f1 fiction #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlossainz #carlos sainz 55 #tightrope

365 notes · View notes