Tumgik
#why hello there old sport
patfo · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Weak, he's weak.
98 notes · View notes
vestathenervous · 7 months
Text
youtube
32 notes · View notes
josephthesnailshow · 2 months
Text
Why hello there old sport.
Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
mikeythebikey · 2 years
Text
i did a dtiys on instagram for @/missparrots !! you should totally check out the original post over there ☆☆
Tumblr media
96 notes · View notes
see-through-salad · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
15 notes · View notes
huskerinchains · 3 months
Text
Presenting, the man, the myth, the legend,
Dave Miller.
Tumblr media
0 notes
maskednerd · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
894 notes · View notes
pilber1bblitzer · 1 year
Text
I just got myself back into DSaF, I love DaveSport so much 🍆🍊
Tumblr media
36 notes · View notes
Text
okay so i'm gonna try to finish a ball of this sport weight behemoth this weekend (maybe), and THEN i'm gonna cast on a shawl as a Gift for a March Birthday :) AND hopefully it'll be a ~writing weekend~!!!
8 notes · View notes
ceasarslegion · 1 year
Text
a special kind of job search hell is being a trans person who likes working with little kids in the age of trans panic
18 notes · View notes
luvth0t · 2 months
Text
SLUT! ━ C.L
Tumblr media
based off ‘slut!’ by taylor swift
or
in which you work in a man’s world, and loving your competitor is a lot more damning for you than charles.
warnings; smut, driver!reader, themes of sexism and misogyny and touches on inequality, angst, lotta tension tbh, she’s kinda long, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praise, degradation like once, public sex, jealousy and maybe a bad friend reader if u squint, haas suck, manifested monaco win for charles :p
lovelorn and nobody knows
love thorns all over this rose,
i’ll pay the price, you won’t
you’d overcome enough challenges in your life.
you’d constantly proven everyone wrong, do what those said you can’t ━ every step and move you made was met with criticism instead of praise. doubt instead of belief.
you found a way. you broke the records, created your own more so. first modern day female f1 driver, and you didn’t intend to be the last.
haas wasn’t where you wanted to be, and while most expected you to be happy with just having a seat; that’s not why you were here. you didn’t fall in love with the sport to just become a driver.
you wanted to win. podiums, wins, championships. like the other 19 drivers ━ you all wanted the same thing.
for some reason you were the only one who got laughed at when speaking on such wants.
but you got used to the laughter, to the unamused or unimpressed journalists ━ this was a man’s world.
that didn’t scare you as a 14 year old girl, and it wouldn’t scare you now.
all these challenges and obstacles that you overcame, all the doubt and hate you shook off; yet there was a certain something you just couldn’t shake.
certain someone more so.
it killed you inside that a man of all things could cause you so much grief, so much internal conflict.
for some reason when it came to charles, you just couldn’t resist. putting your career first, which you’d done all your life, suddenly became difficult.
you didn’t show it, you also weren’t too hard on yourself. it was unfair to be in this position in the first place. to have to be so aware of your relation to the driver, any other drivers of that matter, was a circumstance only you found yourself in.
friendships and banters amongst any other pairings on the grid was adored; snatched up by social media and cameras.
your friendships caused headlines and unwanted press apparently.
it was something you picked up on quickly, the obsession of romance and the assumption that you wanted to sleep with every damn man you raced alongside.
you laughed at it, spoke down on such thing; then didn’t give it any of your time.
until suddenly the rumours were true; charles leclerc had somehow weaselled his way past every barrier and wall you put up.
it wasn’t something you accepted quickly. and once you caught wind of your stupid little heart and it’s fondness of the monegasque you were quick to try put the friendship and it’s entirety six feet under.
this worked, for a few months.
charles had been confused ━ under the assumption you two were at the bare minimum friends. as good as friends as two drivers could get at least. then suddenly you avoided him as if he was carrying the plague.
he couldn’t question it however; it’d be pathetic. to ask you why you refused to meet his eyes in press conferences and drivers briefings anymore.
why you avoided whatever side of the drivers parade truck he was on. why you couldn’t spare him more than a ‘hello’ in passing these days.
he interacted less with other drivers, and didn’t question them. so he couldn’t question you.
las vegas however, was your downfall.
drinking was unavoidable ━ daniel had made you promise to go out with him the moment you congratulated him on his return; and if it hadn’t been him, you knew someone would’ve of.
with daniel, there was max. that was fine; you got on well with max.
then there were talks lando would make it out, despite having gone to hospital; you knew a couple other drivers would also be in the same club you were. an entry fee so high, everyone around you was oozing importance and wealth.
it shouldn’t have surprised you when suddenly charles appeared at an already drunk daniel’s side; loud laughter and murmurs of a prior vegas trip giving you enough time to down your drink in preparation to be in his presence.
you couldn’t run, not when stood in a group of four; silver slip dress doing little to allow you to blend in with the crowd around you.
you felt his gaze on you before your eyes met his, almost as if it was causing heat on your skin ━ demanding you to look at him.
his eyes had met yours with a slight twinkle, slightly hooded and telling you that he too had enough alcohol running in his veins; and the lazy smile he flashed you had your own lips curving upwards with little resistance.
it was embarassing the way your cheeks went a tint of pink as you watched him weave around daniel who was now speaking to max, too engrossed in a story to care about the way charles moved him out of the way, to stand next to you.
immediately you were aware of his hand finding the small of your back as your body became aware of the closeness of him, breath getting caught in your throat as he leant down towards your ear.
“you look incredible,” the compliment was genuine; the smile accompanying his words rendering you unable to find room to complain.
suddenly it was too hot in here. you’d like to blame the alcohol, or the stuffy club. but the man to your left was the only reason you suddenly craved fresh air.
“thank you,” you hummed, not creating distance between the pair of you despite the idea crossing your mind. he was too close, you should step away. but his cologne smelt incredible. and his hand was still lingering on your back lightly.
his smile only grew at your response, having expected you to wiggle away and disappear into the crowd.
the conversation was harmless, it always had been; but speaking with charles was just a reminder that he was one of the good ones.
he’d only ever been kind to you; kind to everyone. one of the first to speak with you like any other driver, speak about racing and your careers without undermining you.
the more time you spent with him the more clear it became that he was flawless. and oh so tempting.
maybe you would’ve ended the conversation when daniel gave you an out, interrupting the pair of you. but it was with shots on a tray next to him.
three shots later and the four of you were all cringing, scrambling to find chasers; charles offering you a lime that you quickly took ━ managing to squirt lime juice everywhere but your mouth.
it had the pair of you erupting into giggles, your hands quickly landing on his shirt which was now speckled in droplets.
“i’m so sorry!” you exasperated, only now becoming aware of the way you were struggling to stand up straight. using his chest to balance you momentarily.
he wasn’t doing any better, telling you it was fine through his own laughter; his hand lifting to your face ━ thumb brushing a few droplets off your cheek as he too swayed side to side.
your eyes met, both drunken and amused ━ and suddenly all rational thoughts had left your body.
“we need another.” you declared, hand grasping around his forearm; watching as his lips parted to disagree. but he couldn’t. a good time too tempting to resist right now.
max and daniel were long forgotten as you weaved through the crowd to the bar to sought after shots of your own; unable to identify the moment your hands had taken grasp of each other.
it was a fun two hours; innocent as well, flirtatious maybe but his hand didn’t stoop lower than your back ━ drinks consistently being poured; drivers, personnel, sponsors and fans rotating through. but you didn’t leave charles side.
you weren’t on edge either, not thinking about the what ifs. about tomorrow or the next week. just enjoying the moment.
time had gone incredibly quickly. you lost track of how many hours had been spent at the bar, how many drinks you’d downed.
charles too, until you were leaning further and further into his side. his intake stopped the moment he realised you were now struggling to stand straight.
the thought entered his mind to find a member of your team, haas or personal, to help you get you to your room soon.
he was drunk, there was no doubt about it. but he was attempting to sober up in your presence.
when you spilt a drink over the bar however, he took responsibility and declared your night was over.
it was a struggle, as his hands clasped around your arms and attempted to push you towards the exit ━ quickly realising he too was struggling to walk straight.
he’d managed however, getting you into the back of his drivers car not as easy with you dropping your phone. then him his wallet, resulting in drunken giggles and mumbles as you finally got buckled in and situated.
most of the car ride was filled with you rambling, charles more than happy to let you speak. he’d missed hearing from you ━ even if he could barely make sense and keep up with your story.
it wasn’t until you were stumbling in the hotel, through the underground entrance thankfully, and into the elevator that there was moments of silence.
you leaned back against the wall, watching as charles pressed the buttons. admiring more so, head titled aside as you gazed over the ferarri driver.
only then did you realise you shouldn’t be in this position. because all you wanted to do was get your hands on him. admire him up close, the distance of the elevator a rude difference to how the night had been spent.
your arms reached upwards, practically beckoning him over; and with an amused smile he easily fell into place ━ approaching you as his hand pressed against the wall beside your head, eyebrows raising upwards in curiosity as he peered down at you.
your arms wrapped around his neck naturally, neither of you phased from the new closeness and comfortability ━ your eyes flickering over his face, lingering on his lips for a few moments too long.
“i want to kiss you,” the words escaped your lips without any thought; it was as if a weight was lifted off your chest. some form of confession quite relieving.
charles hummed at your words, smirking even as he let out a breathy chuckle.
“yeah?” he teased ━ his breath fanning your face, and you nodded without any hesitation. it’s not what you wanted that had you not making any movements.
“mhm,” you sighed, head falling back; charles having not expected the huff of disappointment. you missed the way his eyebrows furrowed for a split second. if he was sober maybe he’d pick up on your internal conflict.
“kiss me then,” charles chimed, hand finding the side of your head; cupping your cheek so delicately you could only lean into the embrace.
never had you called on such will power and mental strength, fighting every instinct and nerve in your body that was practically yearning for him. begging you to put yourself out of your misery for once and rid the distance between the pair of you.
but you hadn’t come so far for nothing. you could only make so many drunken decisions.
“i can’t,” the words were painful to say, even the slight numbness that alcohol brought; you felt every sting of the sentence.
you watched the way his lips only curved upwards, he hadn’t picked up on the seriousness of your words.
“why not?” the question was teasing, his thumb caressing your cheek making it difficult to stick to your guns.
you looked at him as if he should know; because you’d hope he’d have some sort of idea. maybe if you could see straight you would’ve realised that charles reality wasn’t the same of yours.
“people will talk.” it sounded pathetic when you said it out loud, the sentence sobering you up enough to realise such thing. you weren’t one to usually care what people thought, so the way his smile faltered made sense.
charles took a few moments to process your words ━ he would’ve stepped away if it weren’t for your arms around him.
he wanted to point out that you two were in fact alone, but he knew what you meant. no secret was kept secret for long in the world of f1.
“let them.” charles attempted to dismiss, a cheesy smile to match, one that had you smiling as well. but it wasn’t the grin you’d been carrying all night. it was a sympathetic one almost.
charles was putting some pieces together now, as much as he could at least. your avoidance of him was making more sense with the words currently leaving your lips.
“wouldn’t fair well for me,” you mumbled; the disappointment clear in your tone. the annoyance at the fact there was clearly something stopping you. your mood was falling, charles noticed that easily.
and while he himself wasn’t overjoyed with how the night was concluding, he wouldn’t let it be ruined.
“it’s okay,” charles reassured quickly, his lips pressing to your forehead delicately instead ━ you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, he didn’t want you to feel as if you needed too. “let’s get you to bed.” he grinned.
the affectionate action caught you off guard, left speechless as his hand grasped yours and began to directing you out of the elevator. it only having you feeling regret and self pity for letting the moment escape your fingertips.
which only piled on you tenfold when he left your hotel room barely after making it two steps inside.
climbing into the sheets alone had never been so painful.
painful. a good word to describe the next few interactions with charles.
abu dhabi had you on edge. you didn’t know how to face him.
it was typical, finding yourself sat next to him in the drivers press conference. feeling as if every journalist in the room would take note of the exchanging glances, the way your eyes would quickly find something else if his met yours. the way you listened to him speak a little too intently.
charles however had no worries. not a thought in his mind as he shamelessly admired you, listening to every answer you gave. watching as you reacted to the words of other drivers or questions that weren’t to do with you. he couldn’t look away.
you’d avoided him all morning and yesterday; having not caught you after vegas.
charles was used to such behaviour, except now, he knew why. and your reasoning wasn’t good enough to him.
you two could be friends; it didn’t need to be one extreme or the other. so he had no shame in putting in effort to deter yours.
it was frustrating, almost as if every corner you turned he was there. all weekend, if you were not in the haas hospitality or your motor home, charles was near.
it was no coincidence, leaving the press pen at the same time; passing him after any interview, stuck next to him at the drivers briefing.
you couldn’t avoid the conversation, every moment with him was just pushing you further to the edge ━ your self control was hanging by a very thin thread and you were almost ready to cut it every time those damn green eyes linger on yours.
when you arrived at your hotel after qualifying, it was easy to spot him waiting in the lobby. an odd sight considering the lurking fans.
it made sense however, when charles beelined towards the elevator the moment you did.
you had to hold your breath as you both got inside, biting down on the inside of your cheek to not allow your own frustration bubble over.
“what are you doing?” the question was asked through gritted teeth, and the confusion that masked charles face did little to convince you he was as clueless as he looked.
the twinkle of amusement in his eye revealed enough.
“what do you mean?” the question was almost a challenge, charles peering down at you inquisitively - as if he didn’t know the answer himself.
you took a breath, shaking your head ever so slightly.
to put it simply, you were annoyed. at the world for putting you in this position, at yourself for getting to this point, and him for making it more difficult than it had to be.
“you’re stalking me.” you accused; eyes narrowing into a glare; one that intensified as his own lips curved upwards, and if you weren’t so focused on being annoyed you would’ve swooned over the dimples that lined his cheeks in doing so.
“i am not stalking you,” charles mused, laughing at the accusation as he leant against the wall behind him.
you expected more of an explanation ━ your own eyes trained ahead of you at the elevator doors that remained shut. looking at him was too risky.
“you are. you’re everywhere.” you huffed; not pleased with how clear the frustration was in your tone.
charles wasn’t phased, not in the slightest ━ the grin hadn’t left his face; almost as if any conversation with you was more than enough. even if you were huffing and puffing.
he wasn’t sure how the infatuation had spiralled so quickly; maybe he just wanted what he couldn’t have. the man wasn’t too use to rejection, and last week definitely stumped him.
or maybe he just refused to let you run away from what you clearly both see. feel. there was a connection here, he was sure of it.
“are we not friends?” charles question had you drawing a deep breath, suddenly aware of how slow these elevators were. and recognising the first flaw with being blessed with a penthouse room.
“of course we’re friends.” you rolled your eyes, speaking with such certainty as if you needed to remind yourself. friends.
you two were friends at most, that’s all you’d allow the pair of you to be.
“then you shouldn’t actively avoid me.” charles hummed, no shame in calling out your obvious behaviour that he’d let go on for too long.
it was humorous, the way your jaw dropped in offence at the accusation you knew was true.
“i do not.” your voice went up an octave, not even you could believe your own lie ━ nor try to sell it, avoiding his eye now as your leg began to bounce impatiently. it was becoming suffocating, in an enclosed space with him.
“you do.” charles mocked your voice ever so slightly, but the smile that went along with it left you no room to complain as you glanced over at him; your own lips curving upwards for a mere second.
you had nothing to say. to you it was clear, he knew where you stood. but you weren’t budging. it’s not like you wanted to deprive yourself of him; but you refused to sacrifice your career for a man. call it paranoia; but you don’t want to find out the consequences of adding truth to rumours.
“you don’t trust yourself around me.” charles had you read, and he wanted you to know it.
you two could be, should be, able to be friends at least. the monegasque was unsure as to why he was so set on such thing; some of you, was better than none.
“don’t flatter yourself.” you mumbled, attempting to dismiss his words; he was right. hit the nail on the head actually, but you wouldn’t admit that.
“we can be friends.” charles huffed when he realised he was straying from his original intentions; he didn’t want to provoke or tempt you. just make it clear there can be a platonic relationship here. you shouldn’t be scared of that.
“we are.” you reminded, eyebrows raising as you looked up at him; finally holding eye contact with the driver for more than a few seconds.
“then stop avoiding me.” charles repeated; and he’d be ashamed of how desperate he sounded if he had any room to care. but you were more of a pressing issue.
if he hadn’t called you out on a whole range of fronts you would’ve commented on his desperation; the elevator ding beating you to it regardless as the doors slid open.
“fine. only because you care so much,” your reply was playful; attempting to sound amused and unbothered ━ maybe that would distract from the fact you were agreeing with him.
you only had another day of being around him, you could easily do a day with him. las vegas was an example of your strength and will.
but as his grin widened, dimples and all, green eyes still pouring into yours as he backed out of the elevator; you knew it was never going to be easy.
the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air
everyone wants him, that was my crime
the wrong place at the right time
of course it wasn’t easy.
you’d kept true to your word, he’d called you out so you finally relented.
the only solace you found in allowing yourself to get closer to charles was the fact you were right.
every moment spent with him felt like a ticking time bomb. you were cracking, you knew it. deep down you knew it was only a matter of time until you shattered and he’d be there to pick up every piece.
at first you’d coincidentally ran into him at your favourite cafe in monaco. not the first time you’d seen him there; but the first time he signalled you to sit down.
it was harmless at first, a quick catch up. one you’d have with any other colleague you’d bump into in public during winter break.
but there was something about seeing him in such casual attire, hoodie and sweats portraying him in a new light you couldn’t help but take a liking too.
what should’ve been five minutes of small talk was two hours of conversation; two hours of mind numbing tension, pretending to not notice the way his eyes would linger on your lips every now and then. or acting oblivious to the way you laughed at every second word that left his lips.
he parted with an offer to go on a run together sometime, and you accepted with the assumption it would be an empty gesture. a plan that never gets put in place.
but then he texted you a few days later; and suddenly you were struggling to find excuses to reject the offer. struggling to find the want too.
a run wasn’t dangerous. you’d both be pre-occupied.
and you were, until you were standing there puffed; exhausted and puffed; and struggling to not grow further flustered of the sight of a sweaty charles.
muscles flexing against the tight shirt, hair messier than usual; cheeks slightly flushed.
inviting him up to your place for a drink wasn’t your intention, but your mouth was a step ahead of your brain.
uncharted territory had now been crossed. messages were swapped regularly, weekly runs together was almost routine. then hours of conversation at either your apartment or his.
if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you definitely had now. it was beyond physical attraction. and it was mutual.
it was the way you found yourself always ensuring you had the biscuits he’d practically raided the first time he was over, always in an unopened packet awaiting him.
the way he found himself buying the lime flavoured water you preferred to drink after exercising; knowing your odd quirk of not being keen on regular water.
the way he came over with your coffee order and a chocolate croissant from your shared favourite cafe when you bailed on your run, apologising to him because you’d become run down with a cold.
“you didn’t have to do that,” you’d sniffled, heart fluttering at the kind gesture.
“what else are friends for,” charles had practically cheesed.
you’d like to convince yourself he was still at a safe distance, it made it easier to ignore the fact this wouldn’t last forever.
the limbo state was not ideal to neither of you, but it was much better than doing what you felt was inevitable. avoiding him again.
except that would just be much harder this time. before it was a crush; now you were swoon. you counted down the days to see him. awaited his name to appear on your phone.
there’d been close calls; moments where you thought one of you would crack.
like the time you struggled to grab a glass out of his cupboard, tippy toes and all it was out of reach.
you felt him behind you before seeing him, hand finding your hip as his other arm simply reached over you to grab a glass; quick to turn on your feet you hadn’t expected him so close.
“thanks,” you had mumbled, clearly flustered as you looked up at him ━ trapped between his frame and the counter; eyes finding his lips immediately.
silence fell over the pair of you, awaiting one of you to make a move.
you were glad charles had cleared his throat and stepped aside, returning to a safe distance ━ because you didn’t think you’d be capable of such thing in that moment.
charles questioned how he managed to do such thing, each and every time you got close to him he doubted how long he could resist being selfish.
he’d failed to realise back in abu dhabi that he neither could trust himself around you. he’d put in so much effort to prove to you that friends was possible, so naive to the fact it may be worse than before.
while he loved your company, it was a cruel reminder that you had ruled out the possibility of this going further. any dreams or fantasies of more would always stay that way; dreams. not reality.
it frustrated him beyond belief, not that he showed it. the way you gazed up at him through your pretty eyes; as if you’d do anything he asked. the way you always leant towards him when you laughed; how easily he could make you laugh.
and he couldn’t do anything about it. because he wasn’t selfish, you feared the consequences of being with him so he would not push you to face them.
deep down however, the pair of you knew it could only be a matter of time.
yet it still stung how easily it could’ve been avoided.
you weren’t meant to go out tonight, it had been a last minute and spontaneous decision; pressured by your friends who insisted, claiming you missed too many girls nights as it is. that winter break was there time to make up for all you miss while away during the season.
you got kicked out of the first bar you found yourself in, all because one of your friends picked a fight with the bartender; but that didn’t bother you in the moment.
on to the next.
it took a whole eight minutes being at the club, one you had subtlety name dropped to get yourself and your friends into, to spot charles in the crowd.
your friends eyes had found him first; your own merely following theirs in curiosity, and you were grateful that all four of you were preoccupied looking at the driver so they would fail to realise your own longing.
“i have not seen him in ages,” your friend stella spoke first; clueless to the developed friendship between the pair of you. you hadn’t really told anyone, call it trust issues.
“we should go say hi,” stella continued; looking at you all with hopefulness; eyes having lit up and appearing incredibly eager.
you couldn’t think of a worse idea. alcohol and charles almost ruined you once; and that was a few months ago. you didn’t think you had that much self control left.
“we have our own driver right here,” your friend had joked, rejecting the idea as she nudged your arm; purely because she wanted a girls night. and you laughed at the stupidity, ready to play along for your own selfish interests.
“unfortunately y/n, you’re not one stella can sleep with again,” your other friend joked through a smirk, alcohol causing word vomit, because by the way stella quickly slapped her arm told you that information she didn’t want shared.
the revelation had your face falling flat, not able to hide such thing as you pursed your lips in thought.
“you and charles?” the words escaped your lips with too much interest but you couldn’t stop yourself. suddenly needing to know more.
stella had let out an exasperated sigh.
you were grateful to know your friend beside you who rejected the idea of speaking to him was as shocked as you.
“ages ago.” stella tried to downplay, waving the idea off. although then she peered over her shoulder to look at the driver again, an innocent smile spreading across her face.
you nodded slightly, trying to muster a fake smile. you couldn’t be mad; it wouldn’t be rational to be mad. even in the slightest.
“i’m gonna go talk to him.” stella announced, and you could only swallow intently as your friend whined about it being girls night, watching as stella promised she’d be back before weaving through the crowd.
you were staring, but you didn’t care.
left to watch as stella made her presence known. watch as charles face lit up at the familiar face, embrace her quickly and introduce her to those he was stood with.
you could tell he was slightly tipsy, the way he was swaying side to side; even with his arm now draped around stella’s shoulders.
the sight made you sick. jealousy was an ugly trait but you’d never embraced it like you were now.
jealous of the fact your friend didn’t have to worry in going after what she wanted. jealous that she could quite happily cling to charles without worrying who saw.
your mood had plummeted, there was no hiding it. your friends definitely noticing but not questioning as they too glanced over at stella to note her progress.
it wasn’t until charles’ eyes found yours across the room that you looked away.
not in shame, you didn’t care that he knew you were watching; but more so to not make it clear how annoyed you were from the sight alone.
charles tensed up the moment he saw you ━ he hadn’t known you were here. and now that he did, the company he was with suddenly wasn’t good enough.
he’d picked up on your cold stare though; the way you failed to offer him your usual sweet smile.
suddenly he felt guilty, quick to remind himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
the driver distracted himself momentarily, tuning back into the conversation that was going on around him. but his mind was now elsewhere. you were consuming his thoughts now.
intentions to keep his distance were thrown out the window when he noticed you in his peripheral; standing at the bar alone.
he shouldn’t approach you; but the idea of letting you sit there and think he would rather spend his time with the blonde on his arm than you didn’t sit well with him either.
so he found himself excusing himself, heading to the bar where you stood.
you’d grabbed your drink, and the moment you turned around to head back to your seat and continue your moping, you’d spotted charles headed straight towards you.
a creature of habit; avoid him was your first thought. so you attempted to pretend to not see him, a sudden sense of urgency as you headed back to the booth your two friends were still sat at.
charles picked up on such thing however, his own urgency increasing as he managed to get ahead of you; practically cutting you off.
you’d been so desperate in your attempts to avoid him and his eyes that you collided, your drink taking the brunt of the hit as it fell to the ground; pouring ice and liquid on the floor, thankfully missing the pair of you.
you were quick to glare up at him, made to watch as he put his hands up in innocence and let out a quick and not too meaningful ‘sorry.’
you didn’t want to speak to him. he was an easy target for your current anger, so stepping around him was easy; you’d go without your drink for now, wanting to return to the safety of your booth.
but charles didn’t think that was fair.
he’d grabbed your arm before you made it two steps away; your name falling from his lips almost in warning.
“you don’t get to be mad at me.” charles huffed, it wasn’t fair. you told him that friends was the only possibility, so you had no reason to be glaring daggers and avoiding him as if he’d done something wrong.
he was right, you knew he was right. you weren’t even mad at him. but you were mad; fed up with the constant deprival you had to put yourself through, at how much you cared about what people would say ━ that you couldn’t put you and him out of your shared misery.
but unfortunately you had nothing else to aim your anger at; it was just you and charles in this position, meaning he fell into your firing line.
“i think you care too much about what i think of you.” you tried to dismiss his comment; not wanting to admit he was right, calling out his constant efforts of chasing you.
you watched as his jaw tensed, the breath he let out and his eyes drifting aside as he tried to rationalise his thoughts before he said something he’d regret.
“i didn’t know you knew stella.” charles huffed; deciding on what could be a civil approach. he didn’t need to explain himself, but that would be easier than playing into your game and letting you try create a rift between the pair of you.
you wanted to throw the words back at his face; but you stopped yourself. neither he nor stella owed you any loyalty when it came to one another; definitely not back then, so you couldn’t use it against him.
“it doesn’t matter.” you tried to sound calm, remove yourself from the animosity you held. if you could just get away from him, go home, and pretend this never happened.
“it clearly does.” charles didn’t miss a beat; it would have been easier to blindly believe you but how was that possible when you were refusing to meet his eyes and running away from him.
you shook your head, not knowing what to say because you couldn’t disagree there. he was right; like usual, surprise, surprise. truths were harder to ignore when it was coming from his mouth.
“it shouldn’t.” you spoke simply, before turning on your heel and heading towards the bathroom now; anywhere to get away. the thread was getting thinner, you didn’t trust yourself around him.
he’d debated on following you for a couple seconds, knowing what he should do. return to his friends. to stella; there was no complications there.
but yet he found himself just a few steps behind you, refusing to let you get the last word. to let you fall back into your old habits of avoiding him.
a part of you knew he was following you, or maybe that’s what you wanted to believe. your want to get away from him was just a product of self preservation, not true desire.
so you weren’t surprised to hear your name once you were about to reach the bathroom. turning around to face him with a sigh. you should’ve pretended to not hear him.
“what are you doing?” you huffed; looking at him with lost eyes because you were running out of things to say or do, unsure where to go from here.
“what do you want?” charles question caught you off guard, alongside the fact he took maybe one or two steps too many when catching up to you ━ so close and you couldn’t find the strength to create any distance.
you pursed your lips, shaking your head ever so slightly.
the lack of an answer spoke for itself, you knew what you wanted. him. but admitting such thing would be dangerous.
“you know we can’t━” you started to say, needing to remind yourself that as tempting as he was right now it wasn’t possible.
he cut you off however. charles knew what you thought; what you presumed others would think.
“i don’t care about anyone else. what do you want?” charles repeated, speaking with such intent it would’ve been intimidating if your mind wasn’t a scramble of thoughts.
he was practically begging you to spell it out for him; to face the truth of the matter. if you could look him in the eye and tell him you were happy with what you both had right now, he’d walk away.
but you were never going to do that. you could only bend so far.
you finally snapped.
connecting your lips with his was the easiest option, and the moment you did it was as if nothing else mattered. relief washing over the pair of you, as if a giant weight was suddenly lifted.
there’d been the slightest amount of hesitant in the action, but that was forgotten immediately.
it was rushed and messy at first, months worth of tension bubbling to the surface as your hands both pawed at one another eagerly; grabbing whatever you could.
having your hands on him wasn’t something you’d take for granted; gripping his shirt; moving to his biceps before wrapping around his neck.
his intentions were similar to yours, his large hands sprawling amongst the sides of your waist ━ not bothered by the way it caused your dress to bunch ever so slightly. he tugged you closer too, as if he was scared you’d leave his grasp.
he managed to back you into the bathroom without disconnecting your lips; hand only leaving your waist to fiddle blindly with the lock.
the kiss was still messy, eager and heated; gasping into his mouth when your back suddenly hit the wall. charles body enclosing you immediately, your legs suddenly feeling week as his hips pressed forward against yours.
it was not surprising that it didn’t stop their, neither of you were stopping now that the ice had been broken.
the night concluding with your hands spread on the wall ahead of you as charles pounded you from behind, dress bunched around your waist and panties pulled aside.
“gotta be quiet mon amour,” he’d whispered into your ear after your moans continued to grow in volume ━ his hand then moving to your jaw, sliding two fingers past your lips to shut you up.
you would’ve died happily in that moment, moments away from the best orgasm of your life.
no matter what happened, you wouldn’t be regretting it.
and I break down, then he's pullin' me in
in a world of boys, he's a gentleman
you hadn’t seen charles since that night in monaco.
he’d left for maranello not too long after, then you spent the rest of break in america; the season approaching relatively quickly.
messages were swapped, but nothing more.
testing was hectic, you didn’t get to see him or spend time with him even if you wanted too.
you weren’t sure you wanted to however. you missed him, that had been mutually expressed over text. but both you and he were scared; unsure how to navigate what happens now.
because unfortunately the circumstances hadn’t changed, you’d just gotten a taste of one another.
by the time it was raceday at bahrain, all excitement for the start of the season had left your body.
thursday set the tone; all your hard work, months of avoidance and deprival ━ it suddenly meant nothing.
you first caught wind of such in the press conference, sat alongside max, lewis, lando, carlos and alex.
when you finally got asked a question, your breath got stuck in your throat.
“did you enjoy your winter break? a new trainer in charles it seems?”
the question was posed so innocently, you knew the tone. the cheery and amused light heartedness to mask the undertones; it was accusing. you knew it was; any girl would get it.
you knew photos were circulating of you and charles running around monaco, but that wasn’t an issue. there were photos of you and daniel out for lunch as well. ones of you and toto exchanging hello’s.
what a headline; you got along with people you worked with.
“uh yeah,” you laughed off; biting your tongue, like usual. you knew when to pick your battles. “i’m no good at padel so, stuck to running.” you hummed, left to watch as the journalist nodded almost unconvinced.
it was a sinking feeling; they knew, everyone knew. it’d somehow got out. that you’d slept together. paranoia; you had to remind yourself. they couldn’t know.
“is it difficult to have relations off track with competitors?” he was looking you dead in the eye as he posed another question to you, and it hit a nerve.
you shifted ever so slightly in your seat. you hadn’t faced these sort of questions since your rookie year, when journalists didn’t realise what they should and shouldn’t imply.
you had to hold back a scoff; biting down on the inside of your cheek.
“is that a question for all of us or just me?” you practically challenged, and the awkwardness that fell over the room only had the pit in your stomach growing.
it was as if they all knew something you didn’t.
that was all you were asked, all you could think about as you sat on the couch, itching to get out of this damn room.
but that was just the start.
entering the haas hospitality your gut feeling made sense when you were faced with the entirety of the press team awaiting you.
granted, the press team was only four people. but you only ever really dealt with your own press officer if it was without warning.
the whole conversation was a blur, you felt sick the moment it begun.
‘we need to have a meeting,’
‘there’s photos of you and leclerc,’
‘damming to your reputation. our reputation,’
‘unacceptable behaviour and a breach of contract,’
‘negotiating to not let mainstream media run with it,’
‘we’re opening our own private investigation.’
you were being spoken at, no room to reply, no ounce of sympathy. you could feel the disgust as they spoke. as if you’d actually done something wrong.
“investigation?” you repeated in confusion, bewildered as you glanced between the lot of them.
you didn’t know what to say. or do.
deny? beg them to cover it up? apologise?
you felt like that 13 year old girl again, that anything you said wouldn’t matter. keeping your mouth shut as they broke out in chatter again.
short. blunt. your own press officer not even sticking around as they the dispersed, even mentioning that gene would probably be calling later.
you felt like you were going to throw up the moment you got into the privacy of your drivers room, it only taking a few seconds to find the photos flooding your timeline.
monaco. it was undeniable. it was definitely him, definitely you, kissing.
you held back your tears, determined to not let the comments ruin you. your press teams words lingering, but you pushed them back.
the day dragged, you were on edge; one wrong move and an on pour of tears would arise to the surface. just needed to wait till you were in the privacy of your hotel room.
these people would not see you cry.
you hadn’t expected the cold shoulder from your own team. but it was your manager that was the tip of the iceberg.
you hadn’t seen him all day, a close friend you’d consider him, he’d been with you since f3.
“where have you been?” you breathed as you climbed into the car, more than relieved to be leaving the track. and hopefully every conversation that was had.
“cleaning your mess.” he’d muttered in annoyance, and you couldn’t help but shake your head as your jaw clenched.
“not you too,” it was an attempt of a joke, head resting against the window. “don’t know why people are acting like i shared the teams 3 year plan with the enemy,” you huffed.
but you were only met with silence, causing your eyes to glance to your manager who was focused on his laptop in his lap.
“i mean it jason. the way i was treated today was━” you began to speak up at his silence, anger was easier than the self pity.
“what did you expect?” his question was venomous, shutting you up quickly as you stared at him with a slack jaw. it took a few moments to process, how he was on side with them.
or more importantly, not on your side. the guy who you pay to be on your side.
“for my personal life to remain personal.” you spoke like it was obvious.
you had feared this, yes, but that didn’t mean it was right. maybe you held onto hope your lack of faith in the world was misplaced. but everyone was proving you right.
he shook his head simply, so disappointingly you had to laugh, eyes gazing back out the window as you rapidly approached the hotel.
“i thought you didn’t want to be known for this.” his comment was a throw away one, but it cut you deep. his insinuation one he knew would sting, so you didn’t hide the fact it did.
“known for what?” you spoke through gritted teeth; if he wanted to insult you he better not half ass it.
there was moment of silence, hesitance; but not long enough.
“sleeping around.” he shrugged, still typing away on his computer. “great way to halt contract talks. i mean come on y/n,” he groaned.
you weren’t sure if he was right, you’d like to think your talent would over shine paddock gossip. but if he was right, the problem should lie with teams misogyny. not your sex life.
you highly doubt ferarri will hesitate resigning charles because of the matter.
you didn’t say another word, not trusting your voice; it was too much. felt like you were being attacked from every angle. ambushed even.
you’d slammed the door the moment you got out the car, urgently getting inside the hotel; managing to find the elevator through blurry eyes, tears threatening to spill.
almost there.
the elevator ride was testing, the silence made your short breaths and sniffles hard to ignore as you tiptoed on the line of breaking.
the final straw however, was charles himself leaving his hotel room as you navigated your way to yours.
your name had never sounded so delicate coming from his lips, as if he knew that you were fragile, sympathetic eyes as he took a few steps towards you.
“don’t━” you breathed out, voice breaking on you before you could say his name. your hand raising to tell him to stay where he was.
the first tear fell, silently.
“i’m so sorry,” he breathed out; cautiously stepping forwards despite your action. it broke him, the sight of you. he’d never seen you so upset.
overjoyed, pissed off, ecstatic, confused, riled up; he’d seen it all. but never had he seen you cry.
“you’re the last person i want to see right now.” you managed to get out.
lie.
complete lie, but unfortunately once more he was an easy target. the face of today’s events and the reason for fractures in practically every professional relationship you’d formed over the years.
charles didn’t take your words to heart, watching as you fumbled to find your room key; your shaky hands had him frowning, behind you now as he grabbed your arm when you took a step inside.
“please,” charles sighed; desperate for you to let him help. let him comfort you. he felt responsible, but it wasn’t guilt that was pushing him towards you.
just the need to ensure you were okay.
he’d barely received a slap on the wrist. told by his press team to ‘be more careful next time.’ and reminded issues would arise if talks of strategy and racing came to light.
that was that. his day went on. he almost got ahead of himself, optimistic the day could end with him showing up at your door to tell you that you never had anything to worry about.
but word spread quickly in the paddock, and charles caught onto the double standards incredibly quickly with how you were being spoken about in comparison to him.
you didn’t trust your voice once more, simply shaking your head ‘no’ as you got inside, attempting to shake his grasp.
he didn’t let you however, which was almost a relief.
the door shut behind the pair of you, charles tugging you towards his chest immediately.
you had no more strength, no fight left; simply letting him do so as the tears poured.
your head met his chest, arms clinging to his shirt as his arms went around you; holding you close as he mumbled encouraging words.
he felt like a safe place, allowing you to be weak and vulnerable with no fear for the first time in a long time.
quiet sobs and sniffles escaped you as you shook in his hold. it wasn’t just a days worth of torment, no, but all the other shit you put up with from the start of your career.
charles wasn’t sure what to say, just that it’d be okay. let it out. i’ve got you.
his hand was running through your hair delicately, and you somehow register the multiple kisses he pressed to the top of your head; such subtle actions that managed to slow your heart rate.
“i’m so sorry,” charles words were whispered, it was what brought you out of your own head; teary eyed peering up at him as you shook your head.
this wasn’t his fault.
“not your fault,” you spoke through a deep breath, starting to gain your composure. still timid, but you’d gotten the tears out.
“it’s not yours either.” charles spoke in certainty, sounding pissed off. because he was. and it made your stomach flip.
it was the bare minimum, but hearing someone be in your corner was exactly what you needed. the fact it was charles was just a bonus.
“i mean it’s more my fault than yours. i didn’t leave you alone, putain, i am sorry,” he began to ramble. the guilt was eating him alive. you’d tried to avoid this ━ he couldn’t help but feel as if he threw you into the lions den.
you disagreed however. deep down, this all felt inevitable. like it was a matter of when, not if. you were so scared of this happening because apart of you knew there was no avoiding it.
“i don’t regret it.” you told him in certainty, hand moving to cup his cheek; offering a sad smile. “it’s just━ not fair.” you mumbled.
his smile mirrored yours, lacking the usual brightness it held as thumb lifted to your cheeks; brushing away the tears staining your skin.
“it’s gonna be okay. i’ll fix this.” charles promised, but it wasn’t a promise he could keep. you knew that, your head tilting aside as you sighed.
his intentions were pure, held your best interest at heart.
“m’ just gonna have to let it blow over.” you told him, taking a sharp inhale. that didn’t answer the question that lingered between the pair of you.
what this was. what you two were.
he nodded ever so slightly, frustration growing at the fact he couldn’t fix it himself. he wanted to help. to rid you both of the outside noise and judgmental opinions.
“but i think━” you’d cut yourself off, you didn’t want to say it.
he knew however, by the way your grip had tightened on his shirt. the way your eyes held sympathy and sorrow. he knew what you were going to say.
“i know,” charles sighed; nodding in reassurance.
this needed to stop. whatever this was, it couldn’t go further. not for now at least; charles knew that.
rumours won’t die down if there is still truth to them.
your bottom lip quivered slightly at the sight of the sad smile he showed you; the way he was so willing to comply.
you hated the fact you both had to suffer, all for what?
“i’ll stay away, i promise,” charles hummed; biting down on the inside of his cheek as he ran his fingers through your hair once more.
you still had no words, because it was the last thing you wanted. yet somehow was what you needed.
you’d like to say to hell with it, to tell him you didn’t care. that you could be together, and figure out the latter.
but today had been hell; you weren’t sure it was something you could get used too.
“thank you,” you whispered out; charles only response was pulling you close once more, knowing when he let you go, it would be for good.
he had to let you go.
but if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us
if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once
charles stayed true to his word.
it was obvious, the way you two steered clear of each other.
talk of you and him died down, the paddock found something else to focus on within a couple weeks; and it was just another story for the history books that would be brought up every now and then.
their was awkwardness in the team however.
their investigation closed with no findings, something you laughed at.
a motivator; to get the fuck out of there.
it paid off, comfortably beating your teammate. dragging the car into the points most weeks.
talks with mercedes was going well, progressing nicely ━ you wanted to emphasise to your manager that charles hadn’t been mentioned once from them either.
but you weren’t going to dwell on the past.
not audibly at least.
charles was a sacrifice you hated making, and it was mutual.
it was cruel, the way you were too scared to meet his eye if cameras were around. scared one wrong move and you’d be jumped on by prying eyes and gossipers.
charles too shared your fear; he didn’t want to put you in a compromising position. and while it was physically painful to cut you off completely, he managed.
none was easier than some, it seemed.
it was laughable, how the pair of you actually believed the avoidance would stick this time. that it would actually work.
couldn’t even make it to summer break, a few months apart was bound to be all you could endure.
monaco, a race you’ll never forget.
your signing with mercedes was announced on the thursday; a milestone in your career, a highlight.
you were ecstatic, nay-sayers and doubters did little to dull your mood ━ nothing would ruin such an achievement.
but it motivated you.
you heard it all before, when you signed with haas. how it was a PR move, not on merit. for the money you would bring in. the commercial value.
it was the same thing, and the need to prove people wrong was always a blessing when you got in the car.
it’d been a wet qualifying, playing into your favour. putting the car into p3 meant everything would’ve had fallen into place. and it did.
you were overjoyed, the smile had not been wiped off your face. you were proving that contract was yours based off your talent.
you went on to hold onto p3 in the race and secure a podium, you were high off adrenaline and excitement the moment you got out of the car.
you’d handled the pressure, failed to make a mistake; blessed to have had your best qualifying at the hardest place to overtake.
the other headline of the weekend?
charles had finally won his home race.
he wasn’t on your mind, not as you shared the podium. or as you faced the media together afterwards.
you cared deeply for charles, but this was your childhood dream. years worth of hard-work had finally paid off. being near him wasn’t hard, for once, because you had way too many things to currently be happy about.
it was civi and casual, friendly; in the cool down room, on the podium; in the interview.
it wasn’t until later that night, on a random super-yacht, surrounded by drunken socialites and f1 personalities that temptation reached you once more.
you’d barely had a drink, being pulled in every way and direction; talking to many that you didn’t have time to sip the half full glass in your hand.
charles knew this; he’d been watching you all night.
his dream had come true, winning in monaco; in front of his home fans.
call him greedy for wanting more as he stood on the yacht, surrounded by his friends as his eyes settled on you.
he couldn’t help but think of the only way to make this night perfect; you.
the praise and congratulations from everyone else was nice, but he was dying to hear it from you.
to congratulate you as well. on your podium. on your contract.
he thought he was over it, the unfairness of it all. but this was a new challenge.
watching as you stood there, hugging everyone. beaming and laughing, as you should.
would it be so wrong for him to congratulate you as well? to steal a couple minutes of your time? he’d promised to stay away, but this had to be an exception.
right?
so charles went against his word, weaving through the crowd the moment you caught a break in conversations.
uncharacteristically dismissing those who tried to speak to him as he set on his way towards you, nothing would stop him.
“hey,” charles made his presence known; capturing your attention; and the way your eyes lit up and lips curved upwards, he wanted to kill whoever had deprived him of such sight for however many months.
“hi!” you couldn’t help but sound surprised, pleasantly surprised.
you’d been wanting to talk to him; which wasn’t anything new. needing to talk to him however, just unsure how to navigate such thing.
“congratulations. sure you’ve heard it all, but you deserve this.” charles words were genuine; smiling down at you proudly, and while you had heard it all the past couple hours; it meant more coming from him. “the contract as well. huge news,” he added.
your nose scrunched up slightly, grinning ━ pure happiness present because you really were oh so happy.
“thank you,” you smiled; nodding appreciatively. “i should say the same to you. i know how much this win means to you,” you spoke; and charles could only smile at the way you sounded so sincere.
“thank you,” his turn to offer thanks, a silence falling over the pair of you.
that was all you should say, all you were sure was excusable.
it was clear, the way you both had so much on the tip of your tongue; too scared to let it out. neither wanting to be the one to crack. to undone all the hard work.
charles so desperately wanted to rant his heart out, remind both you and himself that the past few months had been undeserved torture. and he was convinced he was going to for a moment.
but he couldn’t. he wouldn’t be selfish with you.
“well i’ll see you━” charles had cleared his throat, ready to do the right thing. to walk away, like he promised he would.
but you cut him off. scared if you didn’t tell him now, you never would.
“wait.” you interrupted, pursing your lips; and he was happy to shut up. he didn’t need any convincing to stay put.
“i uh, with my mercedes contract…” you trailed off; biting your lip. “i made it clear, what expectations would be of me. on and off track, obviously. like anyone would,” you rambled slightly; nervously even.
charles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you nervous.
you were nervous because of what you were implying.
you’d made it clear you didn’t want to be held to any individual expectations off track, that your relations with others wouldn’t concern the team if it didn’t jeopardise the team.
you were grateful, how understanding mercedes were. a breath of fresh air really. so much you’d basically outright told them that you didn’t want you and charles to be an issue, if anything were to arise between the pair of you.
you’d figured if you had a team that backed you, handling outside noise and assumptions would be made a lot easier.
“me and you, it wouldn’t be an issue.” you summed up; practically spitting it out. it felt weird, suddenly lacking confidence as you referenced a ‘you and him.’ worried that ship had sailed.
you watched as his eyebrows raised, lips parting in surprise.
he hadn’t expected you to say such thing, the one thing he’d dreamt of you saying one too many times.
“if that uh, you know. ever happens, i don’t know,” you added on; feeling the need to back pedal, not wanting to come off headstrong. it was the reason for your hesitance. you and charles had never discussed what you were, because it never seemed possible.
charles wasn’t sure what to say. his first instinct was to kiss you; because it seemed as if this was the best night of his life, with all his hopes and dreams coming true.
but his care for you trumped all.
“people will still talk,” he couldn’t help but remind softly. not to argue against you, but to ensure you knew exactly what you were implying. he knew the rush you were feeling, first podium. fresh off multiple highs, he didn’t want you to come crashing down tomorrow and regret these words tonight.
he didn’t know you’d already assessed all your options, weighed up the two cons. your mind had been made up, you just needed to bite the bullet.
you’d already been through it, called every name in the book. may as well make it all for something.
“let them.” you breathed out, a shy smile following suit, mischievous almost, quoting him from that night in vegas. you’d said it with confidence, such conviction he knew you meant it.
his smile was bright, practically beaming at you as he nodded. unsure what to do next, but he didn’t care. he liked the way things were looking.
he hadn’t expected you to kiss him, in the middle of the crowded floor, but god he wasn’t complaining ━ hands finding the small of your back as yours wrapped around his neck.
you’d pulled away shortly afterwards, not creating any distance as your foreheads touched.
“if you still want this of course,” you spoke; just above a whisper, realising you hadn’t really let him confirm he still wanted this.
he’d laughed, at the idea alone he didn’t. shaking his head at the thought as he brought his hand up to cup your face.
“all i could think about tonight, was that the only thing that would make today truely perfect, would be sharing it with you.” charles confessed; taking in the way you lit up at his words, watching as any last doubts or fears vanished from your frame.
you were relaxed, happy and carefree; not one bit of energy spent on anyone around you. who saw, who cared; it meant nothing to you.
you giggled as you pressed your lips to his again, passionately this time; charles leaning over you as he held your body close to his, smiling against your pink lips.
it felt incredibly cliche, as if you were the only two people on the yacht in the moment.
he’d murmured something about getting out of here only moments later, you being quick to agree.
patience was something you’d both demonstrated incredibly well over the last year; safe to say you both had none left to spare.
navigating the crowd hand in hand almost felt like a rush, relieving to not care as you followed him off the yacht; giddy like teenagers as you climbed into the back of a car.
he’d barely gotten his address out before you were on him again, lips pressed against his as you gripped his shirt.
charles hand tangled in your hair, revelling in the way your lips felt against his. he’d spent many nights recounting your night together; attempting to cling to the feeling and pleasure it brought. this was ten times better than what his imagination could produce.
the only time you kept your hands off him was the short walk from the car to the elevator of his apartment complex, the moment the doors slid shut you found yourself pressed against the wall ━ his hands gripping your hips and lips attacking your neck.
you became breathless quickly, satisfied hums escaping you; head tilting back to give him as much access as he wanted.
“have i ever told you how beautiful you are mon ange,” charles sighed against your skin; only lifting his head when he heard the doors ring open.
you smiled at him stupidly, taking in the sight. his pretty green eyes, slightly swollen lips and tussled hair. more beautiful than anything you’d ever seen before.
“come on,” you mused with a blush, urging him to head to his room; in quick pursuit.
you’d barley gotten your heels off once inside when charles was snaking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up as your legs wrapped around his waist.
it didn’t feel really; finally able to have you like this.
“gonna make you feel so good,” charles murmured against your lips as he navigated his way through the apartment, hands squeezing your ass which granted a gasp from you. “deserve so much more than a quickie in the bathroom,” he commented.
while your first time together was more than satisfying, it was rushed. muffled moans and chasing release desperately with fear the moment could’ve been ruined in any moment.
tonight you were all his. no need to keep you quiet, no limit to the positions he could put you in.
he sat at the end of his bed; you not taking long to get comfortable in his lap as your lips moved roughly against his; hips grinding as you did so.
“you won,” you breathed out as you shifted your attention up his jaw, teeth catching his ear momentarily as you kissed at the skin of his neck. “let me make you feel good,” you whispered; charles head tilting back as he audibly groaned. “you deserve it,”
charles always loved praise, his ego thrived on it. but god, hearing it from you? his pants were feeling way too tight.
he couldn’t say no to you, not that’d he’d ever want too.
you didn’t give him any time to reply regardless, climbing off his lap and standing between his legs momentarily, hands holding onto his knees as you pressed one lingering kiss to his lips.
sinking to your knees, you were incredibly eager. a scenario you’d play out too many times as your hands got to work in freeing his cock.
charles lips parted as he rested back on his hands, head tilted downwards as he watched you intently ━ biting down on the inside of his cheek at the sight alone.
his breaths only got heavier as you spat in your hand and jacked him off a couple times, hissing as your thumb rolled over his tip.
the sight was better than you could imagine, as you took him in your mouth and watched his head fall back. his clenched jaw, neck muscles and arms flexing as he groaned.
it had your thighs clenching together, not wasting time in bobbing your head; taking as much of him as you could; hitting the back of your throat each time but it did little to deter you.
“putain,” charles grunted under his breath ━ forcing himself to tilt his head back down to watch you work, hand gathering your hair in a makeshift pony tail. and the way his lips curved into a smirk when your eyes met his had your thighs clenching once more.
“there you go pretty girl, taking me so well,” charles huffed ━ noting the way you gagged around him every now and then, yet showed no signs of slowing down. “mouth is fucking heaven,”
his praise only encouraged you further, doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes; tears welling in your eyes.
your hand was holding his thigh for support, watchinf as he busied himself momentarily by ridding himself of his shirt ━ revealing his toned torso flexing with each sharp breath he took.
“pull your dress down,” his words were direct, a clear demand and with him staring down at you like he was ready to ruin you, you didn’t need to be told twice. tugging your dress down to free your breasts.
his admiring eyes raked your body shamelessly, pleasure only increasing from the sight. you were fucking perfect, and he couldn’t believe this was real.
it was as if you caught on to the moment, reading him perfectly as your efforts picked up ━ keen to make him cum.
and by the way he was starting to tug on your hair, you knew he was close.
he came in your mouth moments later with little warning, and you were practically squirming in your place as you licked him clean.
“you’re perfect,” charles breathed after catching his breath, which happened incredibly quickly; signalling you to climb back into his lap.
you giggled as you did so, grinning as you pressed your lips to his once more; straddling him with ease as your hands spread across his toned chest ━ happy to touch him now that he was back in reach.
his hand moved up your leg, pushing your panties aside and cupping your cunt with little warning; causing you to moan into his mouth.
“you’re fucking soaked,” charles spoke, pulling back to watch your face contort in pleasure; watch as you became putty in his hold. “barely touched you yet baby,” he cooed ━ you couldn’t help but whine, hips bucking against his hand as he circled your clit.
he took in every feature on your pretty face, able to live in the moment and not be rushed like last time. make you feel everything he wanted you too.
“who would’ve guessed you were such a slut,” charles mused; practically toying with you. he couldn’t help himself, not when you looked so pretty panting and whimpering in his lap.
“for you.” you whimpered, hand gripping his bicep tightly as your hips moved against his hand; yearning for more.
he grinned widely at that, rewarding your words as a finger pushed past your folds unexpectedly.
“all for me.” charles hummed in agreement, words still slightly breathless himself as his other hand moved to cup the side of your face, making avoiding his eyes impossible. “all mine.”
the statement had your stomach flipping, words you could used to. something you’d know a long time, but hearing it out loud was so refreshing.
you were his. he was yours.
“please charles,” you whined out impatiently, his toying with your cunt felt good; but you need more, your thighs a painted mess along with his hand by now.
your plea had him hardening again, words sounding so alluring coming from your lips.
“what do you want mon amour?” charles spoke through a breath, eyes gazing over you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. because you were. “tell me, i’ll give it to you,” he promised; thumb grazing your cheek; such a delicate action that didn’t correlate with his thumb teasing your clit expertly.
you whimpered again, cheeks a tint of pink as your eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but they found charles gaze once more.
“all of you,” you spoke. “wanna feel you,” you sighed; his cock was pressing against your inner thigh ━ not helping with the urge to feel him inside you.
his lips curved upwards, pleased with your answer; and unable to deny himself any longer either. you’d both been through enough torture, he wouldn’t be delaying this any longer.
“want me to fuck you yeah?” charles paraphrased for you, hand leaving your cunt to find your waist; lifting you off his lap with ease and laying you beside him.
he was hovering over you within seconds, leaving you to nod eagerly below him. your hands found the hem of your dress, tugging it up and over your head as if that would help entice him.
but he didn’t need any help; he doesn’t think he’d last another second without being inside you.
he slid inside you without another word, your gasps intertwining as your own head fell back against his pillow; eyes fluttering shut at the stretch.
he gave you a moment to adjust, his head falling into the crook of your neck; light kisses peppered on your skin, a contrast to the way he was about to fuck you.
your hands tugging on his hair told him you wanted more; thrusting into you slowly and deeply at first, your mouth fell agape at the angle it hit ━ moans beginning to fall from your lips.
“charles, fuck,” you mumbled ━ fingers moving down his back, sure to leave marks as he gradually picked up the pace.
his thrusts got quicker, but not softer; fucking you into the mattress, all you could do was whimper and moan ━ eyes rolling back at the pleasuring sensation.
“so perfect for me,” charles grunted; the way you were squeezing him was better than he remembered, keeping his focus on your own pleasure because if not, he’d probably cum within moments.
“oh my god,” you all but practically squealed when he moved your leg over his shoulder, feeling as if he was splitting you open; you bit down on your lip to try shut up the now constant sounds.
charles wasn’t having a bar of it however.
“ah, ah,” charles breathed; hand moving to tap your cheek. “wanna hear you gorgeous girl. every fucking sound,” charles told you; eyes pouring into yours which made it clear he wasn’t joking.
you nodded weakly, on cue charles delivering a harsher thrust that had you choking out a moan once more.
it didn’t take long, for you to get brought to the edge; stomach growing tight as your eyes rolled back once more. cumming without warning, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling.
a moment of weakness for charles, watching as you shook beneath him and screamed his name; squeezing him suddenly, he almost came too. he didn’t though thankfully, because his focus was still you.
you weren’t prepared for him to not relent, instead feeling his hand snake between your bodies and find your clit, eyes flying open.
“o-oh,” you gasped, the onslaught of pleasure hard to cope with as your hands gripped onto his back tightly, nails digging into his skin as he smirked down at you.
“take it baby,” charles grunted; eyebrows raising momentarily. “too much?” his question was teasing, and he couldn’t help the breathy chuckle when you shook your head; scared he’d stop. you didn’t want him to stop.
you weren’t sure you could take it, but you were going to try. you’d do anything for him when he was touching you like this.
“so good,” you moaned; tears welling in your eyes quickly from the overstimulation, body jolting with every thrust which hadn’t relented.
his stamina impressive, having not slowed down nor gotten sloppy as he pounded into you.
you were struggling to keep your eyes open now, lost in the pleasure. but charles wanted to watch you, and wanted you to watch him as you pushed you over the edge once more.
“look at me baby,” charles grunted; pinching your clit lightly which had your eyes flying open, meeting his. “gonna watch me as you cum again yeah?” charles told you, his own breaths heavier now as he struggled to not let himself revel in the feeling of you.
you nodded, again, like a broken record; all your effort focused on watching him as your face contorted in pleasure. maybe even a tear or two fell, the familiar feeling washing over you again suddenly as he delivered another harsh thrust. and another. and suddenly it was as if he found new energy somewhere.
you all but screamed his name as you came again suddenly, coming undone on his cock. he was close behind, unable to resist with the way your walls squeezed him again.
your heavy breaths filled the room as charles helped you both ride out your highs, before sliding out of you, he remained above you regardless.
he was looking at you in awe, hand pushing some of your hair away that had gotten stuck to your forehead, earning a lazy smile from you in return.
“i could get used to that,” your words broke the silence; eyes flickering to his lips which gave charles the hint to place a kiss on your lips, a delicate one unlike those shared earlier.
he’d chuckled at your words afterwards, humming in agreement as his hand ran up and down your side comfortingly.
“me too,” charles agreed with a grin; pressing yet another kiss to your lips, a longer one this time; passionate and slow. enjoying the moment. the peace of it all.
when you pulled away moments later, you practically beamed as you urged him off of you; moving to straddle him instead.
you had a lot of time to make up for.
━━━━━
a/n: oh she’s bACK BACK CHARLES FIC YAY
hope u liked, still rusty lol i don’t rlly like the smut but i did enjoy writing the angst hehe
unedited sorry i’ll get to that later like usual oOps
as always feedback is always greatly encouraged and appreciated, means the world to me so pls share ur thoughts 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
luv u all !!!!!!!
2K notes · View notes
patfo · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
idk what to post 🤓
129 notes · View notes
kaciebello · 4 months
Text
Band-aids of death
Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :( word count: 1347
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Percy has been at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seemed like he was good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.
Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway.
After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy finally felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.
Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. However, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.
They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.
Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.
“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own.
“ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.
A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw.
“ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? Nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 
“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues,
“Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”
“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is.
“ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders.
“ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”
“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”
“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen.
“ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 
“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids.
“ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 
“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl.
“ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.
“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks.
“ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 
“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.”
“ Australia?”
“No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 
“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him.
“You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,
 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.
“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.
He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.
2K notes · View notes
Text
Leave My Wife Alone (Art Donaldson)
Tumblr media
Description: Y/N wants to Retire but Tashi isn’t okay with that.
Word Count: 753
Request: If you’re still taking requests could you write a fic for Art Donaldson pls: where he’s married to the reader who is a retired tennis player who Tashi became a huge fan of during college, when YN retires Tashi becomes bitter that she did and tries to pressure her into coming out of it, and it makes Art so upset that he confronts her about her about bothering his wife and her obsession with her life
Y/N Donaldson was a famous name through Tennis. Well Y/N Y/L/N was but when her and Art got married she changed her last name to his. The Donaldsons. They both were big tennis players, loved throughout the community. Tashi Duncan was Y/N’s biggest fan. They met in College and Y/N was surprised that when she faced off against Tashi she was a good sport about it.
Tashi was known for not being a good sport but since she was a huge Y/N fan she was honored. Thus began the friendship that they have now. Tashi and Y/N always talked about Tennis. It was their favorite Topic. When Y/N and Art got married Tashi was her maid of honor. “I want to retire.” She told Art as they ate dinner. Art was playing a challenger so they were at a luxury Hotel. “Are you sure?” He asked. She nodded.
“Yup. I’m 32 years old. I think this is it for me and I want to start a family.” The last part made him smile. Art always wanted kids but figured it would be best to wait for the right time. “Whatever you do I’ll support. I just don’t know about Tashi.” Tashi was gonna be heartbroken. “Well I’m sure she’ll understand.” Y/N said not believing her own words. “Will she though?” Art asked unsure. “I mean you’re still playing.” “Yeah but she doesn’t care about Art Donaldson, she cares about Y/N Donaldson.”
She smiles at the use of his last name after her first. She loved it. “I will tell her when the time is right.” Y/N said and got up with her plate. No time was right. They both knew that. As she was washing her plate she felt Art behind her. His breath was hitting her neck, “So is it too early to start thinking about a baby?” He asked. She giggled and turned around to face him, “Never.” She said and kissed him. He lifted her up onto the table and smiled against her lips. 
“So I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I want to retire.” She shut her eyes tight after she Tashi. Tashi felt the world stop. This was her biggest fear. Since she couldn’t play Tennis anymore, Y/N was her way in. “No. You can’t.” She said. “Tashi, I’m 32 now and I want a family.” “You have a family. You don’t need to quit Tennis for that.” Y/N looked at her as she ranted. “I mean you’re the best Tennis player right now, why stop now?”
“Tashi I understand but-” “If I could still play I would. I would have never thrown it away.” “Tashi I’m not throwing it away. Wait, is that what this is about? You can’t play Tennis so I should?” “No, I just think you still have a lot of years left in you.” “Art is still playing.” Y/N said. “Art is nowhere near as good as you are. I care about Y/N Donaldson not Art Donaldson.” 
Art was pissed. He knew that Tashi was going to be this way but he still had a little hope that she would be a good friend. “I mean she said that you shouldn’t quit because she never got the chance to play like this?” He asked. “It was implied.” Art was so mad at Tashi for implying that. It was sickening. He was wide awake when Y/N went to sleep. He stared at the ceiling as he thought about what Tashi said to his wife. How could she? Y/N was a great player but she deserved to be happy and not have Tennis be her life forever.
He got up quietly and took his phone with him. He went to Tashi’s contact and hit call. He waited as it rang. “Hello?” She answered. “Listen, I understand that you didn’t get your big dreams of Tennis but that does not mean Y/N has to suffer for it. What you said today was so uncool and you aren’t a very good friend.
You only care about Tennis and you are so obsessed with her career that it’s gonna kill you when she retires because you’ll have nothing left. You only care about one thing and it’s Tennis not her well being or anything like that. Just Tennis. It’s Pathetic Tashi.” He said and hung up the phone. He sighed and went back to the bedroom. He got in bed and could actually fall asleep. Though he wasn’t ready for what Tashi was gonna say tomorrow.
618 notes · View notes
cheriladycl01 · 3 months
Text
Double the Interviews - Oscar Piastri x GreekOlympicTennis! Reader
Plot: WAG duties consist of you literally being in more interviews than Oscar because of your outgoing and bubbly personality.
Credit to lewdo for the GIF
Tumblr media
"Y/N can we have a minute of your time please?" an interviewer asks pulling you away from your friend who you look over at. She smiles at you and nods, making her way back to the McLaren garage.
"How are you feeling about the race tomorrow?" he asks and you put a serious face on.
"Yeah, I think the car's got good pace, looking to be in some top positions and I'm excited to see what happens!" you nod and the interviewer holds back their laugh.
"Spoken like a true driver!" he chuckles and you start to laugh as well.
"How are you feeling knowing come summer you'll be competing in the Olympics for Greece in Paris while Oscar is also competing in his own sport?" he asks and you nod, carefully listening to the question to not misunderstand him.
"Yeah of course. You know it's always hard when you have those conflicting schedules especially in athlete relationships. You know I'm still competing in ATP and I have been for a while, and then going into the Olympics on top of that is just immense. I get to travel with my best friend who I've played tennis with since 3 years old but at the same time Osc isn't there all the time. I think that's why today is just so important to me, to be here to support him at his home race!" you smile to the man in front of you who slowly pulls the mic back towards him.
"Will we be seeing Oscar at the Olympics this year?" he asks.
"I think at this stage it's hard to tell, F1 has the longest and busiest schedule to date this year and there's more stress and pressure on the drivers than ever with all the changes taking place ahead of 2025 and 2026, so you know I'd love Oscar to be able to come and see me take home another medal, but again it's one of those moments where you can't be in two places at once!" you explain, knowing he'd already planned to come for your first event of the summer, and would try and stay with you, until it ended for you. But even he didn't know when McLaren would request for him in Woking, or if he'd go home to spend a little needed time with his family.
"Well, I think it's safe to say we are all wishing for Gold for you again this year. Good luck to you and Y/BFF/N who we did see earlier, but dipped away last minute before i could invite her!" he smiles at you, and you smile back.
"You'll see us at the Olympics up at the very top. We promise!" you give the camera a cheesy grin before saying your goodbye's and leaving him to question the next driver who was eagerly waiting behind you.
"There you are!" you hear the Australian accent you knew all to well from your left.
"Hey baby!" you smile, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on Oscar's cheek.
"Saw Y/BFF/N come back without you, when she told me you were stolen for an interview i thought i'd come see if you needed saving" he softly tells you placing a light and gentle hand in your smiling softly down at you.
"Ah, you see baby that is where we are completely and utterly different. I love talking to all your work colleagues!" you say, pulling his hand along so you can both walk back together. You wave at people as you walk past saying small hello's and posing for any camera's you spot in your peripheral.
"You consider the media work colleagues of mine?" he asks with a low laugh that has you cocking your head to one side in question.
"You don't?" you offer back.
"No, my colleagues are my team and the other drivers!" he admits with a blank look on his face that just screams that no cogs are turning up there.
"I mean, you work with the media every time your here. I'd say you work with them, they might not be on your team but they are still apart of your sport!" you admit, he goes to argue but you put a soft finger on his lip.
"Would you consider my ball boy's as my colleagues?" you ask, and he thinks for a second before sighing and nodding.
"There you go then! F1 interviewers are your work colleagues and i like talking to them, they always have very insightful questions!" you smile.
"Insightful or invasive?" he queries looking across at you, brows a little furrowed.
"Damn, you really are a young Kimi Raikkonen. I see what the fans mean now!" you laugh at his expression which quickly tries to change but the frown lines remain.
"God, we need to go back to my mum's for some rest and relaxation" you sigh, starting to massage his wrist and up his arm making him sigh.
"Mmmm, we do I really miss that one dish that she makes us!"
"The Tzatziki with the roasted meat and vegetable kebabs or Moussaka?" you ask looking over at him knowing he enjoyed both.
"Oh! I was thinking of the Moussaka, but the Tzatziki is good. My trainer actually said that it was the perfect mix!" he admitted, still holding that blank expression.
"But he tells you off for the Honey Cake!" you sigh knowing that it was a delicacy you didn't get very often too, being an athlete and all meant that you had to have a very strict diet and couldn't lie to your trainer about cheat days you'd have.
"Okay but that Honey Cake is lethal! You cant stop when you start eating it!" he says before starting to quietly ramble about all his favorite foods as you enter the confides of his driver room away from the public eye.
You cant help but just watch and smile at him, people rarely get to see this funny talkative side of Oscar that could actually out ramble you sometimes which should be near impossible as you were very much a yapper. Especially when you got passionate and would slip in some of you mother tongue without realizing.
"What?, Why are you staring at me?" he asks, after realizing he'd started to rant.
"I just love watching you talk, you nose scrunches when you get passionate about a topic and it's cute" you smile, looking down knowing he'd be a blushing mess.
"Shut up! You are the yapper here, start yapping!" he says, making you burst out laughing while he goes to sit down on the small sofa.
"I'm going to miss you next week!" you sigh as you sit down on his lap where he wraps his arms tightly around you and rests his head in the crook of you neck.
"I know, but I'll come see you at your next tournament after the triple-header!" he smiles, kissing against your neck your body relaxing against his.
"It's just hard, god I'm clingy!" you attempt to laugh the tears away.
"Lando wants to know if you and Y/BFF/N are down for a rematch" he smirks changing the conversation to a more light-hearted one.
"Oh you boys are so on!" you grin.
y/user
Tumblr media
Liked by oscarpiastri and landonorris
y/user: Photo Dump from the boyf’s homeland! Love you Australia 🇦🇺
View all 278 comments
oscarpiastri: it was fun playing doubles with you and y/bff/n. Best you next time
landonorris: these guys are kinda good at tennis yo!
-> y/user: does the gold medal mean nothing to you?
-> landonorris: not really :0
-> y/user: well … Osc?
-> oscarpiastri: don’t involve me :(
Tumblr media
Your Instagram Story Caption:
Double Trouble in Stralia 🇦🇺
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313
696 notes · View notes
luminiamore · 11 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
EX WHO?
ex husband eren yeager x black fem reader
Tumblr media
warnings: reader may have gotten pregnant again (she definitely did), ur daughters name is raqi
moodboard
masterlist
“Sweetheart, please let me put your shoes on so I can bring you to your daddy.” You try to tell your gorgeous four-year-old for the fifth time in one minute.
“No, mama! Daddy says he’s coming here because he misses you.”
You observe as she escapes your grasp again after kicking her tiny feet in different directions. You groan both inside and out loud because you have to repeat, “No, he’s not Raqi.” Mommy needs the house to herself tonight-”
“Uhuh, and Uncle Connie is coming too! He’s taking me to, um-Nick- um-” You watch as she looks at you, waiting for you to help her finish her sentence.
You stifle a giggle at her pout, “Nickelodeon?”
“Yeah!! It’s in Spain, mama!”
You heave a sigh once more. It’s not uncommon for Connie to take your daughter on expensive trips such as this. He probably indulged your daughter more than you did. Not more than Eren, though. Even though Eren didn’t live with you, he made sure to come by and see his baby girl every day, even if it was just for five minutes. Each time he came, he would have a new gift in his hand.
Connie gave your daughter gifts like trips, taking her around the world, and first-class only reserved for the princess. As she ages, she definitely won’t be impressed by someone’s son taking her to Miami.
However, Eren spoiled his girl with jewelry, bags, the newest edition of Hello Kitty plushies, and anything else. To be honest, you need to begin the process of finding her a larger room.
You’re not so sure your daughter is lying. It’s unlikely that she would lie about something like this. Your frustration has changed from being directed toward her to your ex-husband for not informing you. This was actually one of the reasons why you guys split up. He would always make plans and decisions regarding your daughter without letting you know first.
Although he didn’t make any bad decisions or put her in danger, it’s upsetting to know that you rarely had any say in what your daughter did, except for the things she wore.
You remember vividly handing him the divorce papers and standing in front of him in shock as he laughed right in your face with mumbles of, ‘Must be crazy’ and ‘Never in a million years.’
And so the divorce was never finalized because he refused to sign the papers, but you and he were through as far as you were concerned. He had no problem letting you run around thinking that, though. It goes without saying that he never took off his wedding ring. Yours has been on for so long that it’s like muscle memory to slip it on every time you go out.
To this day, his Instagram page is filled with pictures of you and only you. Shit, both of your parents still invite you guys over for dinner, and Eren never told them what you presented him with. You absolutely didn’t have the guts to tell them unless he signed those papers.
You didn’t have the guts to prevent your daughter from having a good time and living out her childhood, a chance you, unfortunately, weren’t blessed with.
“Okay, baby. Well, you still have to put your shoes on if you wanna go with Uncle Connie, okay?”
That seemed to do it. Your daughter headed to her bed and began bouncing up and down with joy before finally settling down and waiting for you to put them on.
Just as you were finishing, you heard the doorbell ring. You rise to your feet and fix your silk robe and matching silk bonnet. Kissing your daughter’s head and lifting her up in your arms, you walk barefoot on the cold tile floors of your penthouse— that Eren pays for.
It’s no surprise when you open the door and find the men of the hour. They were matching. Your ex-spouse appears in all his splendor, sporting a gray beanie that conceals his natural hair, a black hoodie, and black sweatpants that match. Connie’s attire was the opposite: a black beanie covering his buzz cut, a grey hoodie, and grey sweatpants that matched.
“Daddy!”
“Baby!”
Your daughter is quick to jump onto her father, and Eren easily catches her. It’s almost impossible to deny how similar they look. It’s as if she left you out of the gene pool altogether. All his facial features were present in her, including his curls, eyes, and face. Her skin color was the only thing you could vouch for.
Eren catches your eyes, and you look away quickly. His stare always gives you an intimidating feeling. You disregard his glance and turn to Connie with a smile, kissing him on his cheek and leading him inside, “Hey, Con.”
He reciprocates the gesture, albeit with a friendly tone. He was aware of how possessive his best friend can be towards you, and he didn’t want to be a part of that today. After playing with your daughter’s flushed cheek, you turn around and leave Eren outside, letting him invite himself in. Your hostility causes him to furrow his brows.
“What, I don’t get a kiss too?”
While still ignoring him, you direct your buzz-cut friend to your child’s room. “There should be a bag already packed with her things in her closet. I know how much you guys love these trips.”
Connie grins and nods. Your daughter demands that Eren put her down and runs after him, yelling that she wants to show him her new plushies. Now, there were only you and Eren in your living room, alone. Great.
It was impossible for you to function when it was just you and him. Eren’s presence always made you nervous and hot. No matter who was present, he always made his attraction to you known. Your daughter thought you were still together for that reason. Eren Yeager was an elusive figure. He was a force to be reckoned with. The feelings you have for him are still harboring, even though you tried to push them away.
They persist, and it doesn’t seem like you made any effort to remove them. You have been separated for a few months now, but you have never attempted to move on. Whenever your friends asked why you never went on a date, you would always answer that you’re ‘just not ready.’ You never actually moved on from him.
Your friends knew it was bullshit, but you would never admit it. You wouldn’t admit to missing him, missing him holding you, sleeping with you, fucking you. You went from getting your fat cunt stuffed every day to only cumming once a week due to a vibrator going high speeds on your clit. Eren knew you weren’t stupid enough to give his pussy away. You knew you weren’t stupid enough to give his pussy away.
Eren, of course, would never move on from you, either. He genuinely doesn’t believe that you two are separated, as you’re still together in his mind. You will be his forever.
He slowly stalks towards you, watching you intently focus on the wall. You probably hoped he would disappear if you didn’t pay him any mind. He knew how your mind worked.
“M’still waiting on my kiss, mama.” He raises your chin towards him when he reaches you, and his green eyes don’t skip over the little bra you had on beneath your lace robe.
“Eren, move.” You glare at him, but it really isn’t doing much but making him hard.
“Wassup with you?”
“You! You are ‘wassup’ with me.” You whisper so as not to alert Connie and your daughter in the next room. You try to match his tone, lowering yours in pitch.
“What did I do, baby?” His deep voice speaking to you like this always makes you squirm, but you suppress it to express your anger at him.
“Don’t call me that. How many times do I have to tell you to let me know when you make plans to take our daughter somewhere.” You grit your teeth.
He simply gives a sly smile, “Are you really upset about that?”
Once again, he pretends it’s not significant. You’re not even asking for much. Is it really a death sentence for him to inform you of where your daughter might be going? Why do you always end up being the last one to learn? You believe it’s not difficult to give you a week’s notice. You won’t have to be worried about looking silly when your daughter tells you. You don’t think it’s fair to you at all.
“I trust Connie, and I trust you with our daughter, but I just want to know where she’s going. Preferably before she goes! That’s all I ask for, Eren. You can’t keep doing-”
“Are you mad at daddy, mommy?”
You freeze.
Your daughter rested on Connie’s back as he held her mini Disney Princess suitcase. She was gazing at you with a pout, and you didn’t want to be the one to put that expression on her face. You’re about to respond when Eren suddenly opens his mouth, condescending tone and all,
“Yeah, mama. Are you mad at me?”
You try and force a smile for the sake of your daughter, even though every part of you wants to wring your ex-husband’s neck.
“No, baby. Are you ready to leave with Uncle Connie now?” As if it were never there, the frown is replaced by a fit of giggles, a bright smile, and a frantic nod of her head.
Connie gives your daughter a small rub on her head, “We should head out now. The flight’s in two hours, and we don’t wanna get stuck in traffic.”
You hurriedly nod and lead them both to the front door. Your daughter is smothered with kisses after you hug her and whisper a sweet ‘I love you.’ Eren presents your daughter with a mini Chanel box just before Connie puts Raqi in the child’s seat in the backseat of his Scat. You manage to make out his little whisper to her, ‘Don’t open it until tomorrow. Daddy loves you.’
Together, you love them, and you have no regrets about giving this man a child. It’s something you could never regret. Marrying him wasn’t a regret for you either; truly, he treated you like a princess. It’s just that you want him to dedicate more time to you.
Eren spent a lot of time outside before having your baby, whether it was with his friends or his job. He was always dedicated to providing you with everything you needed, but you never asked for any of those tangible things. The only thing you wanted was your husband. It took you some time to communicate your feelings to him, but eventually you did.
As a person who was understanding, he listened. For approximately a week, before he did the same shit again. You were worn out and reached a point where you couldn’t keep going any further. Although Eren wouldn’t give you the divorce you wanted, he was accommodating and allowed you to move out of his home. Provided that he will get the apartment and pay your rent. ‘Safety measures,’ he calls them.
Even now, Eren still acts as though you’re married, and you still pretend that it’s bothering you. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear your door slam shut, with Eren still inside your house.
“You really mad at me, mama?”
You merely sigh, “Eren, why are you still here?”
With his hands on either side of you, he stands in front of you while your body presses flush against the front door. You feel a slight tingle, aware that you’re inhaling the same air as this man. You give a quick glance at his pink lips and hope you look away swiftly enough so he doesn’t notice. He does.
His lips curl, and his voice becomes low and breathless when he speaks again, “Answer me, baby.”
You sense that Eren is talking about more than today for some reason. He’s talking about everything that led up to it, including his absence and negligence. He’s asking if you’re still upset about the way he influenced you to want to divorce him.
A tear that you didn’t even realize was forming slips down your face. Eren doesn’t miss a beat when wiping it away with his thumb and delicately kissing your cheek as well.
You whisper shakily, “I don’t want to be. B-But you make it so hard, Ren.”
Ren. You called him Ren. He fails to recall the last time he heard the nickname you gave him flutter past your pretty lips. He derives pleasure from it and longs to listen to it again.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, mama. You have to believe me. I never want to see you cry, baby. And I’m so sorry for making you feel like this.”
You attempt to move away, but he grasps your hands tightly, causing you to remain still. He understands your struggle, but you don’t trust him. And you’re trying to run away from him again. Eren has apologized before, but he wants you to acknowledge his apologies this time.
He kisses your cheek again, “I’m not working as much anymore, and I even cut back on dealing. I’m sorry I didn’t get it before. I know you just wanted me to spend more time with you, and I swear I’ll make it happen. Just take me back, please.”
Another kiss, this time on your neck, “I miss you so much, mama.”
Your breathing is intensifying, and your hold on him is gradually diminishing. “Ren, please. I- I can’t.”
“Let me make it up to you, hm? Show you how much I missed you. Let me, mama.”
You’re so weak, you scold yourself. So, so weak. He shouldn’t be able to get you like this easily. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to slip off your robe, letting it fall on the cold floor. You should have more resistance. You should make him work for it.
But how can you? 
How can you resist when he’s on his knees, letting his tongue push in and out of your wet hole, unashamedly moaning as you twitch and buck your hips into his mouth. He’s entirely too nasty and too careless when he laps up everything your addictive pussy is pouring into his awaiting mouth.
You’re shaking, your body shivering so much you have goosebumps everywhere. He just doesn’t let up. Each time you try and push away from his pleasurable onslaught, it’s just,
“Quiet, mama. Daddy can’t make it up to you if you’re running from him.”
Your eyes are starting to hurt so much from the way you’re rolling them back into your skull. You’re heaving, squealing when he suckles harshly on your poor clit. Not even your vibrator made you feel this good. 
“G-Gonna cum- Ah! Oh fuck, Rennie!”
You hear the slurping sounds as he eats you, and he never once removes himself from your cunt as he whispers, “Not my name, mama.”
God, you can feel the vibrations, can feel his long tongue covering every crevice inside of you. You grip his head, his beanie barely hanging onto him with how much you both are moving. You wail when he inserts two fingers in at once after he slips his tongue out of you, a precious and weak “Daddy- shit!” released into the air.
He hums against you, against your wet mound, and for some reason, that’s what pushes you over the edge. Your stomach clenches, and your entire being feels like it’s being set alight when you cum on his big fingers. Eren swears he’s fallen in love all over again. It’s been months since he’s tasted you, tasted your sweet cream. He’s missed it. God, he missed you.
As soon as he senses you’re too weak to stand on your own, he rises to his feet and immediately lifts you up by your legs. His lips are brushing against yours now, still wet from your essence.
“You never gave me that kiss. C’mon, baby, kiss me.”
And you do, moaning when you immediately taste yourself. Your breath caught in his mouth as he pushed your legs back against the wall, and he didn’t hesitate to swallow your sounds, sucking your tongue and biting your blushed lips.
Time slows when Eren finally pulls his sweats down and nudges his fat cock in you. He’s holding you so gently like you’ll break in any moment, and honestly, you feel like you will. It’s been so long, so long since you had something this big stretching you out. You can’t help but whimper out pretty cries of ‘Daddy!’ or ‘Rennie!’ against his panting mouth.
You’re so stuffed. So full that you can’t think of anything but how good he feels, how good this intense euphoria streaming through your body feels.
Eren is the same. He’s fisted his cock red to thoughts of having you like this once more. You were the only one who could ever make him feel like a wimp whenever he fucked you. Your pussy just feels so perfect, squeezing around him so tight, like you want him to put another baby in you. Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
He gives you slow, deep strokes that make you keen. The sound of his voice is groggy and slurred as he grunts against your throat, “God, you feel so good. Please, baby, forgive me. Say you’ll take me back. Say it. Say it.”
Through your haze, you still manage to have a few brain cells still working, barely. You’re trying to speak out, but every time his hips press flush against your own, it’s like your breath gets caught in your throat. Still, you stutter out,
“C-Can’t- Hah! Oh, right there!”
“You know I’ll never leave you alone. I can’t, mama. Rather die before I ever let you go. I’ll get on my knees again if I have to, baby.” He sounds so pretty, begging for your forgiveness like this. You don’t know how long you can hold out. You’re not sure you even can.
“You’re c-crazy.” You utter, completely breathless, when he hits your g-spot.
Eren’s response is immediate when he reaches down to rub your clit in tight circles, “For you. Crazy for you.”
Whining, your squirt splashes all over his hoodie, and your body is twitching because it won’t stop. Your supposed ex-spouse groans as he spills his seed past your splashing pussy lips, right into your womb, while whispering unsteadily, ‘I love you so much.’ Shakenly, you pull his face toward yours and kiss him, drool pouring out of both your lips. It’s almost as if you’re trying to devour each other.
When you reluctantly pull away from his lips, he speaks once again, “Please, I need you. Just want you in my arms again, mama.”
You sigh, and honestly too exhausted to argue against him, you answer,
“If you start going back to your old habits, Eren-”
“I won’t. Swear on my life- on our daughter.”
You hum, fingers now combing through his loose curls. You gasp against his lips, feeling him shift inside you, “I love you too, Ren. Always did.”
1K notes · View notes