Sore Loser - LN

Oh my god I’m so excited to see your requests are open I wanted to request something for the lovely Daniel ricciardo being more handsy with reader while on the paddock and him getting interviewed about it later since the fans have been posting pictures of their intimate moments and him kind of joking in a “how could I not?” Type of way? Thank you

PDA | Daniel Ricciardo

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Female Reader

Word Count: 907

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello loves ! Firstly, apologies for the delay in writing requests as I had a lot going on. If you’ve sent in a request, I’m working on it, just bear with me :) Hope you babes enjoy. Thanks anon for requesting .xx

The Monza GP was a special race weekend for Daniel, besides his home race. With his Italian roots, it’s his second home so indirectly another home race.

This special race weekend had inspired him I guess you could say for our relationship to be full on public. For the many months we’ve been together, I’ve made my few appearances in the paddock and sometimes alongside Daniel but rarely. I quite enjoy our relationship being private, but I guess if he’s happier with us being public then so be it.

Besides the rare ‘papped’ pictures of us together - which left some people to question on numerous occasions if we’re still together - we don’t even have posts of each other on our socials. It’s always the private but not secret kind of story posts…I guess that all ends now.

I only managed to arrive in Monza on race day, no pressure. Note the sarcasm. As soon as we jumped out of the car, I suddenly felt sick at the thought of all eyes on us.

Daniel noticed I zoned out, he then snapped his fingers in front of me, “Babe are you okay ?” He asked concerned. “Yeah I’m okay” I forced a smile. He grabbed a hold of my hand and I guess he noticed the clamminess. “Are you sure you’re okay ?” He furrowed his brows. “You look nervous” he added. “I’m not gonna lie…I am” I admitted with a sigh.

“Nervous about what love ?” He asked concerned. “I’m not used to attention in public” I said as I looked everywhere but him. He then grabbed a hold of my face to look at him, “Just relax. I’m with you every step of the way… I just want to show you off to the world without hiding it anymore. I want to love you publicly and not hide it anymore - not gonna lie, it’s also kind of getting hard for me to resist touching you” he smirked.

After laughing along with him, it helped a lot with easing my nerves. Thank god for sunglasses as well. As long as I had them on, the nerves didn’t exist. We walked in the paddock hand in hand, nothing major.

Up until it was time for Daniel to leave the garage, he surprised me by engulfing me in a hug and leaving a kiss on my cheek. “Good luck babe and be safe” I said softly to him before he left. I failed to realise that being a new wag means being watched at all times.

I don’t know what had gotten over me, a boost of confidence and a moment of being proud for Daniel’s great race finish had me returning the favour of engulfing Daniel in a hug and leaving a kiss on his cheek. He then lifted me up and spun me around. In that moment it felt like we were the only ones in that garage and everyone else was muted.

Before we knew it, he had to quickly leave to attend to post-race interviews. I waited patiently in his drivers room and decided to waste some time on my socials. As I was scrolling, a video was already uploaded of one of Daniel’s interviews. Out of curiosity I decided to play it.

“So Daniel, incredible result in the Alpha Tauri today ! Brilliant drive, where did that come from or perhaps should I say who helped with that ?” Natalie teased. He immediately started blushing and looked away, it was so cute to watch. “Welllll” he trailed. “Oh come on, tell us how (Y/N) motivated you today. You guys make a lovely couple and I have to ask since everyone can’t stop talking about how cute you both are, you can’t seem to leave her can you ?” Natalie joked.

“How can I not, have you guys seen her ? She just makes me so happy and she’s one of my biggest cheerleaders. I’m a really lucky guy and I just wanted her to be apart of my special weekend. Today’s result was all so I could see that reaction from her” he smiled proudly. “You mean this one ?” Natalie asked as she then showed him the array of pictures that were taken of us today. “Paddock favourite already. Well, thank you for your time and hopefully we’ll see you both at the next race weekend. Cheers !” Natalie said lastly. “Of course ! Cheers guys” Daniel said lastly before the interview ended. “Handsome guy” he said from behind me.

“Oh my god ! Dan you scared me” I said as I placed a hand on my chest. “Sorry love, let’s get going” he said as he held his hand out for me to hold. With our fingers entwined, we walked through the paddock to the car. Fans and photographers around had taken pictures, I didn’t mind since I was comfortable at this point.

Once we got into the car, I broke the silence “You really did a hard launch today” I smiled. “That wasn’t a hard launch for me” he pouted. “What was missing ?” I furrowed my brows. “This” he said as he cupped my cheeks and pulled me in for a sweet kiss. So much for thinking we were alone, I quickly broke away when I heard screaming from fangirls. “Well, that really was a hard launch” I said as I felt the heat flush my cheeks.

bros in his modelling era

Miami

lando: thanks osc!

zak: osc?

lando: that's my nickname!

---

Barcelona

interviewer: osco?

oscar: that's my nickname!

Apparently its canon that:

Dick and Jason look alike.

Dick is basically Bruce's carbon copy.

Can you imagine how many times Dick have been mistaken as Jason and Bruce? Or Jason being mistaken as Dick?

Dick, wearing a black tank top and sweats— looking exactly like Bruce, walks into the kitchen:

Damian: Morning, Father.

Dick, turns around, expecting to see Bruce behind him: ?????

——————

20 year old Dick casually picking up his 13 year old brother Jason from school:

Random teacher: Ah, Mr. Wayne. Are you here to pick Jason up?

Dick: Mr— It's me, Dick??? Dick Grayson??????

——————

Dick walking into the Manor after Bruce and Jason having an argument about something:

Bruce: Jason? You're back?

Dick in a leather jacket: He's out killing people wdym??????

——————

Dick just wanting to get some coffee, gets stopped by paparazzi, thinking he was Bruce:

Random reporter: Mr. Wayne!

Dick: STOP CONFUSING ME AS MY DAD

——————

Dick hanging out with Tim:

Random passerby whispering to their friend: That's Bruce Wayne and his son Timothy Drake!

Dick, who could hear it: ...

Tim: Calm down. Calm your tits.

——————

Jason walking into the kitchen, Bruce and Tim are there, both have been awake for 72 hours now:

Bruce: Morning Dick.

Jason: Did you just call me a dick????

Tim: But— that's your name?

Jason: My name is Jason. I'm NOT DICK.

——————

Jason and Dick getting de-aged, both wearing their Robin costumes:

Cassandra: Sooooo... which one is Dick and which one is Jason?

Bruce: I— I never realised they look so similar.

Duke: The angry and feral one must be Jason. Dick's the smiley one.

Tim: Nope. Dick's the feral. Jason's the happy. Been stalking them for years, I would know.

——————

Dick crying hysterically: Do I look old enough to be mistaken as Bruce?!?!?!?!

Bruce: *glares*

Jason: Exactly! I don't look that old to look like Dick.

Dick: FUCK YOU

——————

But of course, sometimes it's an advantage. Dick could get away with things like being Batman, getting his brothers out of trouble, etc.

While Jason could get away with being Nightwing and stuff. (ehem that time when he dressed up as Nightwing and killed people in the suit.)

For the Jason drabbles, what about Jason conforting/taking care of reader while they are sick or even on their period?

We love a supportive man. What he receives he gives back tenfold.

—

“Show me where, baby.”

His hand roamed along your lower abdomen, imagining the soreness in your tense muscles. The spikes of pain that riddled you bedridden during your most heavy days.

“Here?” He applies pressure, fingers rubbing circles down just under your stomach, along the spot near your hip bone.

“Oww, yes,” you whine, wincing from the pain before being soothed by his massage.

Jason knew what periods were. He knew it’s a natural thing women dealt with. He’s worked with women for years, alongside doing his own research on it during one time you hadn’t left your bed for a while, thinking you were sick at first. It was an.. interesting conversation with Babs over what more he could do to help that the internet didn’t tell him about those relentlessly heavy cycles.

Pain like this took a lot longer to be rid of than a heating pad would allow. Especially the good quality ones with different settings.

Or, if you want something different, something fun that he wouldn’t mind shoving into the microwave for a minute, he’d get you a heatable, plush teddy bear. Or a duck. Or a menstruation crustacean.

He had no idea what the hell that was until you showed him on the site. You received whatever you chose in a box nearly three days later from Prime shipping.

Don’t freak out about blood. Accidents happen. If you got some on the sheets, along his lap when he held you, or on the couch, he could’ve cared less.

He wouldn’t even point it out, if you didn’t know. If you did notice it, he’d immediately shush you in an consolation attack, hiding your shameful expression in the crook of his shoulder.

“Shh, baby,” he’d murmur in your ear. “Easy. Nothin’ I haven’t seen before. S’alright, it’s okay.”

With advice from Babs, he cooks a lot more iron rich meals for you a lot more during this time. Usually, it’s been a team effort. You cook, he cleans up, you wash dishes together. Vice versa.

This week, regardless if you suffer from irregular periods, he does it all. He’ll do it even if he was a walking zombie, he doesn’t care.

Jason will not, no matter what you say, let you lift a finger if he knows you’re in pain. He’s an expert of masking his own, he can tell when you do it.

This even goes if you’re not used to being babied, get used to it. You tend to him for weeks at a time in a single month alone, this is his way of saying thank you for it all.

“Bed.” Jason demands, not even having to turn around from his attention on the stove to hear your shuffling to the kitchen.

“But I’m—“

“I brought you a drink,” he replies. A cup of warm raspberry leaf tea sitting on your bedside.

“No, I mean—“

“I know it hurts, but you can’t take anything until after you eat,” Jason peers over his shoulder, seeing his olive green shirt loosely draped over your body. “Go back to bed, Princess.”

“Can I stay here?” You plea, making his shoulders slump with a sigh. Try as he may, your weakened state makes him more pliable to your every request.

Might as well, since you’re already up. Stubborn girl.

“Go sit on the couch,” he sighs, knowing a few comforters were folded up on the cushions. “Get comfortable, an’ stay there. Dinner’s almost done.”

Jason has pills, plenty of them. From plain Tylenol, ibuprofen, to doctor prescribed muscle relaxers, morphine, etc. All thanks to Alfred.

Broken bones or severe, suture required injuries would be the only times Jason felt complied to take them. He knew addiction, watching it first hand and being involved in it at one point himself. He only took them when he absolutely, positively needed it.

For you, if you needed something stronger, he’d give you half of one pill, or a full, single pill at most. No way would you ever fall victim to such a cruel, toxic routine. He’d keep them locked up, for both your safety and his.

After your said hearty, iron rich meal, you remained on the couch snuggled up together like true lovers.

His guilty pleasure during your period of vulnerability was how much you relied on him for comfort. Positions varied, but his most favorite would be your body laying in his lap as he lounged on his reading recliner.

A gray comforter over your shoulders, some fuzzy socks on your feet. The furnace you called your boyfriend leaving you nice and toasty, his hands settling along your hair and back, preparing to soothe and massage when needed.

He adored when you needed him, he loved catering to you. You were his woman, his little nurse turned patient.

This also sort of gave him an excuse to skip out on patrols, but he never voiced the reasons why he’s gotten calls about it. He just didn’t feel like it, refusing the idea of abandoning you late at night, leaving him tense and unfocused on his routine on if you needed something, and he wasn’t there.

The others, with their detective mindsets could figure it out for themselves as to why Jason didn’t show up on a Saturday night. Or a Sunday, and definitely not a Monday.

He had important priorities, after all.

Just him, you; snuggly comfortable and content, and your herbal scented, menstruation crustacean.

Need to reblog this just so I can keep coming back to it... good lord is this writing amazing.

im a pretty boy im stunning

Pairing; Chris Knight x Fem Reader

Summary; Chris accidentally mows you down on campus, then pays you a visit in the evening and dirty shenanigans ensue...

Warnings; 18+ or 5 megawatts will go into ur brain, big talk about face sitting in this, oral sex (male receiving), chris deserves his own warning otherwise you'll explode with love, teensy bit of dirty talk, he calls you 'angel' and you call him 'pretty boy', brief mention of blood/minor injury (elbow scrape)

(a/n) y'all when I say Chris Knight is my comfort character?!? he is literally the prettiest boy I have ever seen and he deserves the whole world. this is pure filth and im projecting so there! title is a lyric from Stunnin by Curtis Waters!! bcus he is a pretty boy and he is stunning

Word Count; 3.9k ish

He couldn’t usually care less when he was running late for something, it never really even entered his mind in fact. But today he couldn’t have been happier that he was an hour late to a lecture, because if he wasn’t then he wouldn’t have met you. Well, knocked you over into the ground. 

He’d been running across the campus grounds, out of need to burn off excess energy rather than reduce his lateness, and rounded a corner that you were unfortunately on the other side of. Unfortunately for you since all the air got knocked out of you and you practically slammed into the floor, but very fortunate for him because he’d just met the love of his life-that’s what his mind helpfully supplied anyway, as he tried to get his bearings and saw you attempt to catch your breath while lying on your back next to him, a few bits of paper fluttering down around you.

Chris sat up slightly, resting on his elbows and squinting against the sunlight as he looked around. Some folders and papers which must have been yours were strewn around the both of you, one of his bunny slippers had fallen off and was a few feet away, and he could feel the comically large sunglasses that were perching on his head had been knocked askew, hanging off of one ear. He turned to you and grinned, watching your chest rise and fall heavily, and raking his eyes down your legs, suddenly very very glad he’d left his dorm at that exact time so that he was able to see the shorts that currently sat high on your thighs. 

One of your hands had been laying over your eyes, a frown on your face, but you moved it and narrowed your eyes against the brightness of the sun. As soon as you shifted as though you were going to sit up, he practically catapulted himself on top of you to hold himself over your body. He watched as you blinked in surprise, beaming down at you and feeling you move yourself where you were trapped between his legs.

“You’re very very pretty.”

“Oh-I, well, you’re pretty too…?”

“You’d look very very very pretty sitting on my face though. Which you should do, as soon as you possibly can.”

“I’m sorry?!?”

He jumped to his feet, still grinning down at you and placing one hand on his hip while he held the other out for you to grab and pull yourself up by.

“Don’t know what you’re sorry for, but I graciously accept the apology anyway!”

“No-no just-did you just ask me to sit on your face?!?”

Chris took you in, looking you up and down as you rubbed your elbow and wincing where you’d landed on it. His mind went blank, solely focused on how pretty your eyes were and how badly he wanted to brush his fingers along the flush staining your cheeks. Eh, what the hell.

You jumped when you felt his fingertips skate over your cheeks, before relaxing a little and looking curiously at him. He smiled widely, before chuckling and raising his hand to fix the sunglasses now tangled in his hair.

“No ma’am I did not ask you to sit on my face, I just said you’d be very pretty doing it, and therefore you should. I’ll ask you though if that’s the encouragement you need.” Chris mockingly saluted you, before dropping his arms to his side and standing to attention as though you were a commanding officer. And as though he were any sort of soldier, actually. The sunglasses dropped from his forehead to the tip of his nose.

You let out a giggle at the sight, until your arm twinged again and you sucked in a breath, rubbing at the broken skin on your elbow.

“You should let me look at that, angel-”

“That’s not my name-”

“Why not? It suits you. But let me look at that.”

You hesitated for a second before holding your arm out and twisting it so he could see the red stain slowly creeping down your forearm. He picked up your hand gently and inspected the minor wound, peering at it with concern. 

“Do you know first aid then?”

“No why would I?”

“You asked to see my elbow!! I thought you were going to help me!”

Chris let your arm go and tugged at the shirt he’d tied about his waist, startling you when he suddenly ripped one of the sleeves off and offered it to you. Taking it tentatively, you shot him a confused look as he just kept on grinning. 

“So. What am I meant to do with this…?”

“It’s a bandage. Or bondage. Or whatever you want. A little piece of me.”

“I-I don’t even know how to respond right now-”

He spread his arms out wide, then leaned in until his forehead was resting on yours, chuckling as you blinked in surprise again. 

“Well, you can always sit on my face like I want you to-”

“Oh my word-I can’t-I don’t even-who are you?!?”

“Chris. Christopher. Knight. Christopher Robin? Knight in shining armour. The Dark Knight? Saint Christopher? Whoever you want me to be. But my name is technically Chris Knight.”

“Well Chris-” How did his name sound so much better than normal coming from you?!? “-it’s been something, meeting you. I’ll be sure to find you if I want to take you up on your…offer. But for now, I’m going to find someone who knows a bit of first aid and then go to my lecture-see you around yeah?” 

You were leaving already?!? No no no, you couldn’t go yet. He didn’t know anything about you, hadn’t even gotten your name. It would be a shame if he didn’t manage to bury his face between your thighs, but it would be an absolute tragedy if he let you go so easily. It confused him a little, which was rare, but he somehow knew you could be something. This could be different. Not very scientific but he took comfort in the fact that he was pretty much always correct. About everything. Why should this be any different? 

“Pretty pretty pretty girl! If you gotta go I’ll see you later. Wait. Can I see you later???”

He looked excited as he asked the last part, staring expectantly at you as he waited for an answer. 

“Yknow what? You seem nice and you’re pretty as well, why the hell not?”

“You really think I’m pretty? My makeup didn’t go so well today, you see-”

You shocked him by laughing loudly, forgetting about your injury for a minute as you bent double in hysterics. The past ten minutes seemed to have hit you, finally taking in the fact that you were mowed down by a bunny slippers and fancy dress sunglasses wearing goofball of a man, blond hair sticking up in every direction possible, who immediately told you to sit on his face, ripped a sleeve off his shirt for you and asked to see you later. A much more entertaining morning than your lecture, that’s for damn sure. 

“No really you are a pretty man. And sweet. If not somewhat…blunt and inappropriate-”

Chris let out a startlingly loud ‘HA’ and suddenly leaned in to peck your forehead before twirling in a messy circle, bowing as he finished. He lifted his head and you raised your eyebrows at him. 

“I have a blunt and inappropriate instrument you might like as well by the way, comes with me everywhere if you must know. Now, places to be and things to explode-”

Flashing you another grin, he turned and sprinted the way he had originally been heading, leaving you surrounded by folders and papers, smiling as you held the torn sleeve he’d handed over. 

-

Chris spends the rest of the day wandering around, heading no particular direction. Every time someone walks past him, he flings an arm out and stops them, barely even looking at them as he describes you in great detail to find out anything he can. Your name, what you’re studying, your friends, your favourite at the cafeteria, your dorm room. 

If he’s remembered right then it was the 47th person he asked-there’s a chance it’s the 48th but he’s inclined to believe his math in this situation rather than Jordan’s-who finally told him where your room was. 

No matter who smart he is, he can concede it may have been a little stupid to ask to see you later and then not ask for a single detail about you. 

But nevertheless, it all works out because now he knows where you are and he can go and see you and watch you smile again and maybe you’ll tell him a bit about yourself and then maybe he’ll get you to sit on his face! He hopes, anyway. 

As he picks out some nice, presentable clothing (purple sweatpants, a crochet sweater and pink earmuffs around his neck), he thinks that if not then he’ll just keep coming around-it feels like a punch to the gut when he considers not ever getting his tongue on you. He bets you’ll taste better than anything, thinks you’ll stretch around his fingers just right and-

Aaaand he needs to think clearly so he doesn’t scare you away or come off wrong. 

But god all Chris can think about is how pretty your eyes were this morning, how they’d look when he’d made you cum twice on his tongue-the way you might gaze down at him, eyes half lidded and glassy. Cheeks flushed so prettily, red and hot with the pleasure he can’t help but give you over and over.

As he ruffles up his hair and makes it even messier, he thinks back to when he picked up your hand (how can a hand be that pretty?!?) and he just knows it was made to tangle in his hair, pull on the blond locks and push his head further into you. 

Looking in the mirror and artfully ruffling his hair just one more time, he grins and gives himself a thumbs up-at which point Mitch walks in and looks him up and down interestedly. 

“You uh-you going somewhere Chris?”

“I am going to see my girlfriend, Taylor! Don’t wait up!”

He jogs out of the room, ignoring his roommate’s confused stare. Mitch sticks his head out and yells down the corridor. 

“You have a girlfriend?!?”

“No!”

The answer was shouted back, fading as Chris struts around the corner to leave the building and head over to yours. 

-

When he knocks on your door, there’s some scrabbling behind it and someone obviously moving around quickly. He uses the few moments to decide which position he wants to be standing in when you open the door, but takes too long and ends up quickly attempting to lean on the doorframe, but misjudging it so you open the door to see him fall straight in and crash to the floor.

“Angel! You keep making me fall for you and I won’t have enough brain cells left to tell you how pretty you are. Have I told you how pretty you are yet?”

You stare down at the man lying on your floor, who grins up at you and crosses his arms behind his head. In a mirror of this morning, you stretch a hand out for him to grab and he debates pulling you down onto him, but pulls himself up instead with the thought that he’d like to get to know you a little better before you think he only wants to get into your pants.

So, for the next few hours, that’s what he does. He lays down on your bed until you prod his thigh and beat him in a staring contest to make him sit up, and you both spend a long while just talking. It’s not that Chris doesn’t talk to women, not that he only wants to sleep with them or anyt-hing, but he doesn’t usually go this long without making some sort of advance. Odd. But, he’s happy-as in, surprisingly actually really ecstatic to just be sitting there with you. 

Surprisingly actually really ecstatic!

However. He can’t deny how crazy he’s currently going from the feel of you straddling his lap, arms around his neck and joining him in messy kisses. If you asked him, he wouldn’t be able to tell you exactly how it happened-you two were talking about your study methods and then you looked over at him and were suddenly sitting on his lap and he was sucking gently on your tongue. At least he knows you want him as well, he was getting a little too concerned that you didn’t. The warmth he can feel rocking over his clothed dick tells Chris that it’s definitely not one sided, thank god-he’s not sure what he’d do if it was.

When he breaks away to suck marks just under your jaw, you gasp and grip his hair tightly, making him laugh quietly at how right he was earlier. 

“Yknow-yknow I thought you were, oh, kind of-a little bit-odd, when I met you this morning, but then-then I couldn’t stop thinking-”

Chris pulls his face away to beam up at you, and he watches you bite your lip at the glistening salvia coating his lips and no doubt your skin. 

“S’good, real good, angel, means your brain is functioning and many people can’t even own to that-”

“Shush shush I just-all I was thinking about through my, god, through my lectures was how-how stupidly pretty you are-”

“You were?!? I like that-I like that a lot-”

Ducking his head again, he presses more messy kisses to your neck and wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing tightly and crushing your bodies together. He presses you down slightly as well, indulging in the hot pressure on his shaft. He knows he’s going to savour the moan that spills out of you forever.

“Uh huh-you are-you’re really pretty-’nd then I was thinking about what you said-what you offered this morning-”

He licks a long stripe up your neck, from the hollow of your throat to your chin, and pulls back again, looking at you hopefully.

“Can I??? Will you let me? I’ll-I’ll make it really good, promise-be so good for you-please-”

Giggling a little at his dopey expression, lips parted and breathing heavily as he watches you dotingly, you brush your thumb over his bottom lip and lean your forehead on his. 

“Wanna-another time, but I wanna taste you first instead-”

“Oh-”

You watch his pupils blow out in real time, jaw going slack as his mind struggles over the thought of your mouth around him.

“Can I? Cmon pretty boy, can I?”

Chris outright moans at your words, dropping his head down to land on your collarbone and slipping his arms off your waist so he can grab at the flesh of your ass, pawing at you and digging his fingers in to relieve some tension. 

“Do-do you like that? Only saying it cause you are, yknow, very very pretty boy-so pretty for me-”

Whimpering into your neck, he uses his grip on your ass to tug you against his crotch again. His sweatpants suddenly feel too tight, too restrictive and he needs to get them off.

“Would-do you really want to? You don’t have to angel but-but if you do-”

“‘Course I am, couldn’t focus in my lecture cause I just kept thinking about blowing you, pretty boy-then you even make the effort to find me and we sit here for hours chatting and you’re so sweet and I just really wanna suck your dick-”

“Angel angel angel-you-you gotta stop saying stuff like that or you won’t get the chance, m’gonna paint the inside of my pants if you keep talking like that-”

“That’s-actually really hot can we-can we do that another time-”

He grasps the back of your head and smacks your lips together, teeth clashing and tongues battling. After a little bit, you pull away, gasping and taking in the sight of him. He’s so beautiful-stunning, really. Head tilting towards yours, eyes blissfully shut, lips parted and shining with spit in the artificial light of your bedroom. Hair mussed and soft between your fingers, hands gripping the flesh of your ass, member jutting up into your feverishly hot centre. Prettiest boy you ever did see. 

Reaching down to grab his hands, you move them to the bed either side of his thighs and watch the muscles in his arms flex, his fingers twitch as he fights not to move them. 

He presses his lips together, trying not to grin at the sight of you shuffling off his lap to kneel in front of him. He feels like he’s about to have his first time all over again, a too-eager teen all jumpy and skittish.

When your hands slide up to tug at the ties of his sweatpants, his hands immediately jump up and pick at the material on his thighs before smoothing up and down, trying to expel some of the anticipation he’s feeling. It doesn’t help at all, not when you pull at his waistband along with the zebra print boxers he’s wearing and move them down far enough to free his length, slowly pumping your hand up and down. 

As soon as your skin makes contact with him he moans loudly, seemingly a very vocal man even though people could be walking past your room. One hand fists in the sheets of your bed and the other comes up to pull at his hair, attempting to ground himself somewhat while you push on his knees to make room for yourself. You shuffle forward, smiling up at him and stomach flipping at the grin he sends back, all wide and toothy, his excitement palpable as you bring yourself closer. 

Wrapping your hand around him again, you press a small kiss to his tip and look up to see his mouth drop open, barely able to keep his eyes open as his brain blanks and his breathing picks up. 

“Jesus jesus je-oh christ-”

“Have barely done anything yet give me a second pretty boy-”

Some sort of whine comes from him and he forces his eyes open, not wanting to miss a second. You close your lips around the head of his cock, sucking gently-you’re rewarded with a loud ‘WOAH’, so naturally you suck a little harder. 

His hands roam across the sheets of your bed, grabbing at sections for a few seconds before letting go to fist in another part. Letting go with a wet pop, you look up to hold eye contact with Chris and dip down to lick a long stripe from base to tip. He falls back on your bed with a heavy thump, abdomen flexing as he mumbles your name over and over again and you grin.

Slipping one hand up and under his crocheted sweater to skate over his toned stomach, you scratch lightly at his happy trail and sink your mouth down around his shaft. He’s, unsurprisingly, quite well endowed and it’s a slight struggle to fit all of him so you settle for sliding your hand up and down what you can’t get in your mouth. It doesn’t seem to make a difference to Chris judging by the groans coming from him and the way he suddenly sits back up, holding his arms out a little and clenching his hands in the air, not able to decide where to put them. The hot, wet heat of your mouth is about to drive him insane and he doesn’t think he’s able to form the words to ask if he can card his fingers through your hair right now. 

You slide your mouth up and down, up until you’re almost off of him and then slowly (painfully, he thinks) back down until he nudges against the back of your throat. His brows furrow as he gazes down, mouth open and eyes glassy at the absolute vision of you looking up through teary eyelashes and drool spilling down his cock. Moving both of your hands so they’re resting on the tops of his thighs, which makes you clench around nothing at the feel of his taut muscles, you breathe slowly in and out of your nose to slide down a little bit further. 

Chris falls backwards again with a stream of curses and plunges both hands into his hair. You pause your movements and, with great trouble, he lifts his head up a few inches to peer down at you. That’s when you decide to swallow, throat constricting around the head of his dick-

“Fucking-fuck fuck shit jesus christ-”

You raise your eyebrows at the expletives now filling your ears and then sense movement below you, glancing down to see his abdomen flexing and hips twitching minutely as he evidently tries to hold back from bucking up into your mouth.

“I can’t-m’gonna-oh god-”

You barely take any notice of his words, swallowing again and feeling his member pulse, suddenly cumming down your throat with a loud moan from the man you’ve just unravelled. 

Chris pants a little as you lift your mouth off of him to swallow, and then duck your head to place gentle kitten licks all over his cock, cleaning up the mess you’d accidentally made. He leans up and rests on his elbows to watch in adoration as you gently tuck him back into his sweatpants, tie the strings and then sit back on your haunches to wait for his next move. 

Unable to contain himself for much longer, he lurches forward and grabs your biceps, pulling you up and toward him until you’re lying on top of him on your bed, one of his thighs pressing up against your cunt.

“Can-can I-please will you let me-I gotta return the favour I can’t-can’t not taste you for much longer please, please angel I just-need-need to-”

His eyes dart all over your face as the words spill out of him, hands roaming around and thigh nudging up into you to make your body jolt. With a soft chuckle that turns into a gasp at the pressure between your legs, you lean down to kiss him-and are met very enthusiastically, one hand pressing on the back of your head to keep you in place as he explores your mouth-and hum in agreement.

He makes good on his offer, making you come twice on his tongue and once on his fingers before the night is out. Then twice on his cock in the morning-one time in bed and one time in the shower. From that day forward, people seldom see you without Chris being, at most, fifteen feet away, and if you’re together there’s a good chance he’s trying to touch you in one way or another-making both of you very very happy. It does result in a few interrupted moments, but Chris brushes them all off with a casual ‘what’s a mentally scarred Mitch in exchange for that pretty face you make when I get my fingers inside you?’

Who knows-maybe one day it’ll be Kent and he’ll finally lose the stick up his ass?

YALL if you enjoyed this at all, liked any part of it please comment or reblog so it shows up for more people in more tags, it’s not a very well known movie or character in terms of fandoms anyway so any help spreading this would be hugely appreciated :) lyyyy

tags;

@tiredly101

@bisexual-watermelons

@thewolveswithin

@valkilme

@whyisitsohardtosignin

“gap between lando is 0.8 and he has drs.” “yeah it’s on purpose.” carlos slowing it down so lando would switch from offense to defense once russell closes in… his MIND.

in another life we are 2 cats sitting on a windowsill

finally done with the series that's been plaguing my dreams for a month

Keep me Close

Past Jules Bianchi x reader, platonic Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: angst

Request: yepyep finally got me some angst things to write

Summary: Charles's new girlfriend can't understand why he's so attached to the reader

Warnings: talks of death, name calling, a table gets flipped

Notes: I definitely didn't cry writing this at one point. Also, no hate to Alex!! I know hardly anything about her, but I know her and Charles are currently together, and it fits the Timeline, so please bear with me.

Masterlist

Your love for Jules was something you find in fairy tales. It was beautiful, and both of you felt connected on a level deeper than anything imaginable.

It started when you were both merely kids. You were six, and he was eight. The two of you had met at the wedding of a mutual friend. Dressed in nice clothing, he'd marched right up to you and claimed to be a knight looking for a princess.

You were inseparable after that. It was like you'd found your soulmate.

When you turned eighteen, Jules had immediately proposed. And when you countered by asking if you were both too young, he said, 'Why waste time when I know I'll love you forever?'"

You'd gotten close with Leclerc family. Specifically with Charles since Jules was named godfather. He spent a great deal of time with you and Jules.

Then 2014. Everyone was sure Jules was going to get a seat with Ferrari. It would be a crime if he didn't.

You remember kissing him, good luck. The last feeling of his lips on your before getting in the car.

You remember telling him to be safe with the rain; that you love him dearly. He replied with his signature wink and an 'I love you more and I always am.'

Then everything stopped. The world seemed to no longer spin. Time refused to move forward as you willed it to go back.

It couldn't be real. There was no way it had happened. You still thought that as you sat at his bedside faithfully for months. There wasn't a world you wanted to live in if it didn't have Jules.

Charles was similarly devastated. He'd lost someone dear to him. The boy spent all his free time sitting with you in the hospital. Even bringing around food that Pascale had made to keep you alive. Something you didn't want to be at that moment.

The bond you'd formed with Charles during this time is hard to explain. There is nothing romantic. He's family despite the age gap not being that large.

He was, and is still, family. You'd promised to still take care of him despite the loss of Jules, and he promised to do the same in his stead.

The start of the 2024bseason brings on an interesting turn of events. Charles had split with his girlfriend before the new year and is now with his new girlfriend Alex.

You like her. She's very sweet as far as you've been told. But there is something there that makes you worry. You just blame the fact that you want the best for Charles.

The first time you met her was at a family dinner. Charles brought Alex with him to introduce her to everyone.

You were actually the first person he introduced her to. You felt honored, but there was something behind her eyes that you couldn't quite pinpoint. But you kept it to yourself and made friendly conversation.

The next time you saw her was when she dropped by the Leclerc family home unannounced. The position she caught you in wasn't a bad one, but it probably didn't look good to her.

Charles had a rough race in Monaco, as per usual, and was laying with his head in your lap while you ran fingers through his hair. It's the same thing Jules had done when Charles was a child after a bad Karting race.

Alex definitely didn't look pleased with you. But she managed to put kn a smile and say hello.

It was awkward. Especially after Charles and her went into another room because you could hear them talking in hushed whispers.

Your fingers find the chain with your wedding ring on it. Your lips press against the cold metal as you hold the ring to your mouth. "I hope I'm doing this right, Jules. It's hard without you here."

The last time you saw Alex was at a birthday party. Your birthday party. Something you don't like having after Jules because he was the one who always made the day special.

Charles is a stubborn man though and decided it was necessary. Partly because this is his way of remembering that you are alive and with them, but it also gives him and excuse to drink and dance.

It wasn't anything massive. Or at least - not a massive as it could have been. There were a good number of people crowded into your Monaco home. The food is good, and the music is better. It definitely felt like a party Jules would have dragged you to in your youth.

It's not long until Charles appears at the door with Alex in tow. He comes to you, and you embrace him as usual. The smile on his face makes everything worth it. despite having to deal with a party for a few hours.

Pierre also finds you and starts up conversation. The three of you fail to notice the fourth becoming increasingly agitated.

A loud crashing sound pulls all of their attention. Alex flipped over the table in her agitation and is now sending chills down your spine with the look on her face.

"Why are you so determined to be some kind of homewrecker! Why can't you just stop being a creep to Charles and let us live in peace!" She screams. It hits your mind like a shadow. The world fades away, and your thoughts are filled with the doubts you have daily.

Tears fill your eyes, and your body goes rigid. "I'm Charles' godmother. Y/N Bianchi. I am no homewrecker." You choke.

Charles and Pierre take a protective step in front of you. "Get out!" Charles' voice drips with venom. Alex looks stunned. She doesn't move even as Charles shouts at her. "Nobody gets to speak like that to my family! Get out!"

Then she runs. Avoiding the gazes of disapproval.

Charles spins around and places his hands on your shoulders. His eyes scanning your face to assess the damage.

"I'm so sorry that happened. You're amazing. Always have been. And anyone who says differently is a fucking asshole."

Even through the tears, she smiles. Jules couldn't have left her in better hands.