https://x.com/bayarealeclerc/status/1755842900548800634?s=61&t=cIi6YPpJhzzbQkN0XsM-bw
There’s a floor view of the Dosh lift…
🚨🚨🚨🚑 people died ‼️
Hi I’m back because couples who aren’t together just yet are EVERYTHING
And the new theme?? The icon?? Sanne 😍
May I request “you matter so much to me” with Dick? A little angsty if you’re feeling it?
hey there!!! thank you hehe i felt it was time for a theme change bc fall ❤️ hope you like it! thanks for sending a request 🥰
dick grayson x gn!reader. tw: reader is injured but not much description of the injury, mention of bombing, dick being a protective sweetheart, love confession.
****
You're probably being paranoid.
You probably don't need to call Dick. He'll definitely be busy right now. And you call him way too much as it is.
Wally had asked last month if you two were dating, which had been a humiliating conversation, so you've been vigilant about not clinging to Dick so much. You're just friends. That's all you'll ever be.
These two guys at the train station are really freaking you out, though. What do all the posters say? See something, say something?
You take a deep breath and dial.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Dick," you say tentatively.
"Hey!" Dick says, sounding slightly breathless. "Hey, how are you? I've missed you, what have you been up to?"
The smile in his voice makes you ache. Fuck. You should've just called an Uber.
"Hey. I'm okay. Sorry for not calling, I've been, uh, swamped at work."
"That's okay. It's nice to hear from you."
You melt. "It's nice to hear from you, too."
One of the guys across the station tosses a duffel bag inside of a storage closet and closes the door, then locks it. Right. Back to why you called.
"Dick, I think these two guys at the train station might be up to something. I could be wrong! I-I'm probably wrong, but—"
"What are they doing?" he asks, and you can hear him shifting to Nightwing Mode.
"They threw a duffel bag into a closet, but they don't look like workers. And—"
One of them lifts his coat, and you see a holstered gun. Shit.
"Oh my God," you whisper. "One of them has a gun."
"Get out of there," Dick orders. "I'm on my way. I'll pick you up. Meet me on the corner of Mason and Jewel."
"Okay," you say, heartbeat rabbiting. "Okay, um, Mason and Jewel. Got it."
"It'll be okay," he says, a little gentler this time. "I won't let anything happen to you, alright? Go somewhere where there's a lot of people, and stay on the line."
You take a deep breath. "O-okay. I trust you."
You head for the stairs when the ground rumbles under your feet. People begin to shout and you run faster, trying to make it out of the station.
"What's happening, honey? Talk to me," Dick urges.
You hardly register the honey in your panic.
"The ground's shaking. Dick—"
Something knocks into your back and you crumple to the floor, phone falling from your hand. Everything goes black.
****
You open your eyes to blackness, and for a moment, you're afraid you've lost your sight. But then the shadows become clearer, and you can make out distinct, albeit dimly lit, shapes.
You try to form a word but the air has been sucked out of your lungs and it sounds more like a wheeze.
The surface beneath you is soft and firm. There's a blanket over your shoulders.
You rasp out a sound that's an attempt at 'hello.' Your lips are cracked, and your throat feels like you chugged cement.
A hand rests on your forehead. You try to sit up.
"Easy, easy. Don't try moving just yet."
Dick is in his Nightwing suit, but the mask is off. You blink at him slowly. You'd almost forgotten how blue his eyes are.
"Can you tell me your birthday?" he asks, continuing to stroke your face.
You tell him your birthday. Your throat feels like sandpaper, and a straw is pushed to your lips. You drink the water greedily.
"Wha' happ'd?" you ask.
"There was a small bomb. Half the station collapsed." Dick sucks in a deep breath and seems to steel himself. "You, um, you hit your head pretty hard. I found you and brought you back to the Batcave. I want to monitor you overnight just in case."
Your eyes widen. "Batcave?"
Dick smiles. "The one and only. I'll give you a tour later."
You frown. "Shouldn't you be out there?"
"Oh." Dick rubs his neck. "Well, uh, the others have got it pretty much covered. But I can give you space, if-if you're tired or something. Uh, Alfred's upstairs if you need anyth—"
You shake your head. "Not kicking you out, Dickie. Just don't wanna keep you from important stuff."
Dick leans in, looking at you intently.
"You're important."
You smile and look away, belly swooping at his seriousness.
"Oh. Thank you, Dick."
"I mean it," he says fiercely, then swallows. "You are... you're one of the most important people in my life. You matter so much to me. I should've said so earlier, and I guess today was the kick in the pants I needed."
You turn to him, eyes wide. "What are you saying?"
Dick slips his hand into yours, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.
"Every day, I see how fragile life is," Dick says. "Witnessed it for myself, too. I can't—I don't want to pretend that I don't care about you as much as I do. That I don't wish we were more. And if you don't feel the same way, then that's okay, but I needed to say something before—"
"Dick," you murmur.
He stops. "Yeah?"
"Kiss me."
He blinks once, twice, then wastes no more time. Dick cups your jaw with both hands. It's almost overwhelming, the way Dick Grayson kisses you like you're the only person in the universe.
His hair is just as soft as you imagined, and you tangle your other hand in it, massaging the base of his neck. Dick makes a quiet whine in the back of his throat, and you hungrily swallow the sound.
"Ahem."
You flinch apart, and Dick covers his mouth. He glances at you through his lashes, and the look promises that he's not finished with you.
All excitement about said promise self-destructs when you see Batman standing ten feet away. Even under the cowl, he looks unimpressed.
"Nightwing," he says. "Taking care of our patient?"
Oh God. You're never setting foot in Gotham again.
"Excellent care," Dick says, apparently used to Batman's cheek.
"Hn. I expect a report of the station incident tomorrow."
"Of course. Do you need me out there?"
"No. It's handled." Batman looks at you. "You are welcome to join us for dinner."
He swooshes away with a truly unnecessary jump into the Batmobile. You wait until he's gone before groaning and putting your face in your hands.
"Oh my God, I just made out with you in front of Batman. I can never face him."
Dick pulls you into his arms, kissing your temple.
"Are you kidding? He basically just welcomed you into the family. I knew he'd like you."
Summary: Lando’s girlfriend is a gaming streamer and he is obsessed with her. But sometimes jealousy over her male subscribers can get the better of him. Or in other words the war he has with most of her subscribers can get a little out of hand. But he can get pouty, especially when she beats at his own game.
Lando isn’t sorry to say that he and her are easily a perfect match. Her streaming brings in plenty of money that there’s no element of her using him, she plays games with him, she’s there for every race and they support each other.
He’s been out with some of the boys today though and getting back she’s already started streaming.
“Alright, I’ll play the F1 23 game. But if Lando appears like he’s been summoned by the FIA to not let himself be beat by his girlfriend, then I won’t forgive you guys. He’s played this so much, he’ll beat me purely from having played.” Y/n states as she starts up the F1 game. “Who should I drive as? I can’t be Seb this year.”
“Be me.” Lando speaks up appearing behind her which makes her jump and turn as he leans on the back of the gaming chair. “Sorry, baby.”
“I didn’t know you were coming back so soon.”
“I’ve been gone for like 5 hours, how long did you want me to be gone for?” Lando jokes while she smiles up at him with an expression that she always seems to wear around him. “I’ll be upset if you don’t.”
“You can’t keep using that against me.” Y/n pouts before laugh when he takes her remote and begins picking and choosing her set up. “You better not be setting me up to lose.”
“I’m not. You need to worry on these trust issues.” Lando scoffs while she looks at the camera in a move that only works to be described as from The Office. “I don’t want to date a loser anyway.”
“Wow. Do you guys hear the way he talks to me? This is supposed to be love.” Y/n scoffs then looking at Lando who just looks back at her for a moment then leaning down and kissing her.
“I’m going to shower and leave you to it.” Lando states only just pulling away from the kiss before he kisses her again. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” Y/n smiles before turning to back to her PC while Lando leaves the room. She sighs seeing the chat feed and frowning. “Alright, you guys don’t be talking about my man like that. He treats me so good.”
Her subscribers really hate Lando, mainly because many of them are male and the ones who don’t hate him are fans of Lando’s who defend him without a second thought.
“I’m going to see if I can beat Lando’s fasted lap too. I think I can…I hope I can.” Y/n states then biting her lip as she begins to focus on the race.
She has to try a couple tracks to find one she stands a chance at beating Lando’s record on, but eventually she does it on the Zandvoort track of all circuits she could excel in.
“Ahaha! I did it!” Y/n exclaims jumping up and squealing in excitement as she shoots to stand up, purely out of excitement. “I beat his time! Aha!”
Audio messages from the chat begin to flood her ears. Most of congratulations while Lando appears and grins when she jumps spinning.
“I beat you in Zandvoort!” Y/n beams then sighing as she looks at the chat, clearly something being said in her ears from a subscriber that she doesn’t appreciate.
“What?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, I’m gonna do another race because I want to go on the Bahrain track.”
“Can I race with you?”
“Yeah, of course you can but promise you’ll ignore the chat. They’re just jealous about you.”
Lando looks at her with a mildly unimpressed expression since he knows what her chat is like but she also gets a lot of support.
“What track?” Y/n asks making Lando puff out a breath.
“The chat is saying Spa.” Lando states pointing at the chat.
“Spa it is.” Y/n smiles before wavering when she sees the chat flood with comments about how they should drive the Russia track. They can’t because it’s not on the game as an option but it doesn’t stop them. “Fucking trolls.”
Lando doesn’t comment deciding to just focus on the game, he’s going to prove himself. Not that he need to but his ego is getting bruised knowing that these men spend her stream either hitting on her, promising they could be better for her than him or just hating on him with no remorse.
What he doesn’t expect is for his girlfriend to completely destroy him in the race, pulling a Max Verstappen and having built a 20 second gap ahead of him.
“How did you do that?” Lando questions making her shrug innocently then shooting him a smile. “Do you have cheats?”
“No! Of course not. Spa is just my favourite one to play on when I’m not streaming so I have perfected it a bit.” Y/n pouts while the chat goes off about how he’s treating her horribly and that they’d be celebrating her doing so well. “Alright, stream is over guys.”
They both know that they’ll be comments online about this and no doubt they’re going to be all over TikTok and instagram fan accounts with claims that the relationship is on the rocks, but she doesn’t want to keep streaming with the chat being somehow even worse than it is most time.
As soon as the stream is over and her PC has been turned off.
“Hey.” Y/n sighs moving over to Lando and straddling his lap as she throws her leg over him. “You know I don’t listen to the idiots in that chat.”
“I don’t like the way they talk to you, baby.” Lando frowns rubbing her thighs while she smiles sadly then kissing him. “Or about me.”
“I know, neither do I.” Y/n sighs then shifting. “But I’m in your bed every night and they’re just sad men who think they stand a chance if they slander you when we all know they don’t.”
It should comfort him but Lando is a man who likes to make a point.
“Can I post you on my instagram?”
“If it improves your mood, you can post whatever you like of me on there.” Y/n smiles knowing that Lando’s jealous side comes through in a way of needing to show the world exactly who she belongs to and she’d be lying if she said it isn’t a little attractive for him to her. “I still beat you though.”
“Don’t remind me…But I’d beat you on a real track.”
“Yeah, well…you are an F1 driver, if you didn’t that would be incredibly embarrassing given I’ve I’m a terrible driver in real life.” Y/n laughs before running her hand through his hair. “How about you post whatever it is you have in mind and I’ll figure out what the hell we’re eating for dinner?”
“Only…if you promise we can race on the Silverstone track next time I’m here when you stream.”
“Because you know I’ll mess it up.”
“No. I just know I’ll not mess it up.” Lando shrugs in a faux innocence then sucking in a breath as he looks at her monitor. “I love that you game.”
“You’ve said.”
“But I hate when you beat me.”
“As made obvious.” Y/n hums leaning forward and kissing him. “Are you going to be grumpy all day?”
“Yes.” Lando pouts jokingly earning a grin and nod before she gets up and yanks him up after.
-
After a post with a carousel of pictures with y/n ranging from some cute and goofy ones with one of Lando’s hand squishing her face to a wet t-shirt picture that very much shows she’s cold and not wearing a bra at the time. His fans went insane, y/n’s fans actually imploded.
But he felt a hell of a lot better knowing he posted it in a way laying his claim. Y/n is his girlfriend and no matter how many promises strange men make in her chats or how vulgar they are with what they want to do to her, that’s never going to happen if he has a say in it.
“You got me in trouble with my parents.” Y/n states while Lando looks at her with a smirk. “The wet t-shirt?”
“It’s one of my favourite pictures of you.” Lando grins then gently pulling her forward into him. “I got in trouble too. But I’m still not sorry.”
“No, I think that’s the scorpio coming out.” Y/n hums before she’s lifted up onto the physio bed with Lando lifting up the Quadrant hoodie she’s stolen and sighing as he gets sight of her boobs. “Someone could easily come in.”
“You’re my girlfriend let me take advantage of that how I want to.” Lando huffs while she rolls her eyes but suppresses a smile.
“Yeah, enjoy it.” Y/n yawns then leaning back on her hands. “Do you know how many subscribers told me on my last stream that you gave them a new lock screen?”
“Don’t say that, don’t ruin this for me.” Lando groans since there’s no point in deleting the post now, it’s too later and the picture has been up for the better part of a week. “I hate your subscribers.”
“I know…a lot of them hate you too.” Y/n laughs before she jumps a little then his thumbs rub over her nipples. “Don’t start something we both know you don’t have time to finish.”
“Sorry, baby.” Lando grins before leaning forward and kissing her softly. “I do have to go.”
“I know.” Y/n sighs then being kissed again as he tucks her boobs away gently and pulls the hoodie back down.
“I’ll find you later.”
“I’ll be watching. Kick their butts.” Y/n smiles before they take off. “Don’t be a sore loser like when you lost to me!” “You’re not funny!”
Then he’s gone and she sighs giving herself a few minutes before she heads out to take her spot in the garage to watch her boyfriend do what he does best.
hi i could request mafia!carlos where he is like mean to everyone but you and is super protective and possessive with reader please!?
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It was nearing on dinner time, and Carlos still wasn't finished with the meeting he had gone into hours ago. Business had been booming lately, and he always had people wanting to make deals with him.
The maids were scrambling, since they normally asked you or Carlos what you wanted for dinner. You didn't know, so then the responsibility usually landed on Carlos. It was such a small decision to make that would have zero consequences, but your mind had gone blank.
You knew you usually shouldn't interrupt Carlos' meetings, but it was surely nearing the end, and there probably weren't many more important things to talk about. You approached the door and heard some frustrated conversations on the inside. "I am not having this move screwed up by you fucking morons," you heard Carlos spit.
Knocking hesitantly, you opened the door and poked your head around it. "Not right now," Carlos huffed, and he was looking rather dishevelled. His suit jacket was sitting askew on his body, his top button had been undone and his hair was ruffled due to how many times he had run his hands through it.
Carlos looked up as the door opened, and his face completely softened. "Hey, baby, you OK?" he asked, opening his arm out to you to slot yourself into. "Can I ask you something really quick? It's OK if not, it's not important," you said as you felt the eyes of all the men in the room on you.
"Yeah, of course, c'mere," he said, glad to see you after hours of dealing with these useless wastes of oxygen. "Turn away," he commanded the people around you, not wanting them to see you or watch your body as you approached him.
He didn't want their dirty, sinful gazes on you, since he wouldn't be able to control what they were thinking like he could their actions. The thought of it made him sick, and he didn't want you to be exposed to the world he lived in.
You were his serenity in the madness, and he couldn't have that tainted by people with purely bad intentions. He could keep you safe, and that was exactly what he would do until he took his dying breath.
As the men turned their chairs away, all that could be heard was the click of your heels on the cold marble floors as they echoed in the high ceilings. "What do you want for dinner?" You asked as he rested an arm around your waist.
"How does steak sound?" He said after thinking for a moment.
"Yeah, good. Sorry for interrupting," you apologised, sweetly smiling at him. He looked tired, but only you would be able to tell. He would keep a stone cold, stoic face on while he was around other people, but would become the clingiest man you had ever met when it was just the two of you.
"Don't be sorry, I'm very glad to see you," he smiled, tugging you in for a kiss on the cheek. "And we should be done within half an hour, given that these guys stop being such fuckwits," he raised his voice slightly so that the men could hear.
"I'll see you in a bit," you smiled, turning and walking back out of the meeting. Once you were out of the room, Carlos allowed the men to turn around and look at him again. They seemed to get the hint and they stopped fucking around with him, since the realised it wouldn't get them anywhere.
If Carlos wanted something, he would get it. If he wanted something done, it would be done his way or no way. He had that power, and he was sure as hell going to use it.
As he had said, his meeting was wrapped up within half an hour, and he had his security on the doors to make sure they all left and wouldn't try anything. You were stood on the stairs as you watched them go, and one of them sent you a flirtatious wink.
If Carlos had done something like that, it would have sent shivers up your spine and butterflies in your stomach. But he had made you feel a shiver of disgust, an uncomfortable tingle that made you feel uneasy.
You saw as he leant into the guy walking beside him, whispering something to him with a filthy grin plastered on his face. Carlos' ears pricked up when he heard the mention of the men seeing a beautiful woman in the house.
"I wonder how much he pays her to saunter that cute ass of hers up to him like that, because I'd fucking give it to her," he joked, but the man he was walking with stayed silent. He saw as Carlos' face turned into pure, unbridled rage.
Without warning, Carlos rushed up to the guy, pinning him against the wall by his collar. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" he spat in his face, and the guy just stayed silent, practically shaking with fear. "I asked you a fucking question, who the fuck do you think you are talking about my wife like that?"
Carlos let the guy sweat for a bit, and he opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He was frozen in fear and instantly regretted what he had said and he wanted so desperately to take it back. "You say anything about her again, or you so much as think about her again, I will know and I will make sure she's the last goddamn thing you get the pleasure of fucking thinking about, got it?" he said, pressing the guy against the wall even harder.
Security didn't bother intervening, knowing full well that Carlos could handle himself. They knew when to step in, but they were enjoying the show. "Answer me when I fucking speak to you. Do you understand?" he spat in his face again.
"Y-Yes," he stuttered, not able to meet Carlos' eyes.
"Show some fucking respect, yes what?" Carlos said through gritted teeth, gripping onto the guy's collar as his knuckles turned white. "Yes, sir," the guy gulped, praying that Carlos would just let him go. Carlos released the man from against the wall, but not before he swung and punched him square in the face.
The sickening crunch of his nose echoed around you, and you took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of the blood running down his face and dripping onto the floor. "Get the fuck out of my house," Carlos commanded as the guy scurried out of the door along with the rest of them.
Carlos inspected his hand, his knuckles split and purple bruises were already blooming over the skin, but he still hadn't realised that you were there. He liked to keep you away from that side of his life, but you seeing snippets was inevitable.
You moved slightly, but the halls were very echoey, so he heard you, his head snapping up to where you were stood. "Hey, princess, we're all done," he said, trying to hide his hand behind his back. But, he could tell by the look on your face that you had seen something.
"How much did you see?" he sheepishly asked, trying to stop his hand from shaking. He couldn't feel the pain now because of all the adrenaline running through his veins, but he felt this weird numbness. "All of it," you said, descending the stairs towards him.
"Well it's been taken care of now. Sorry, you shouldn't have had to see that," he apologised, his head hung low. He didn't like the look of worry on your face, your features flushed with concern. He never wanted you to stress or worry about him. "It's OK, I don't mind," you dismissed as you stood in front of him, "You go sit down, I'll get some stuff to wrap up your hand,"
"No, no, I'll do it, don't worry," he shook his head, pulling his hand away from you as you tried to inspect the damage. He could take care of himself, and he wanted to deal with the slightly painful consequences of his violent, yet just, actions. "Carlos, please," you softly sighed, not wanting him to pull away from you.
On the day you got married, you vowed to take care of him in sickness and in health. Yes, that wasn't geared towards when your husband had broken someone's nose and his knuckles were split, but it still applied - especially in the world you were living in.
Carlos was now at the disadvantage, since he could never say no to you. You could ask him for the world, and he would burn anyone in it to give it to you. You could ask him for the stars, and he'd go to space himself to retrieve every last one for you.
"Fine," he sighed, letting you lead him over to the dining room table. You could smell dinner being made in the kitchen next door, but you still had some time to patch Carlos up before then. "I'll be back," you told him, walking out of the room and leaving him to think for a minute.
Just thinking about the way that guy had spoken about you was making his blood boil all over again as he clenched his fists, not caring about the sting that stretching the open wounds caused.
He hated the fact that he knew other people had definitely spoken about you in worse ways, and thought about you. They would have this sick, twisted, perverted version of you in their dirty little minds, where they only used you and threw you away like a ragdoll. Where they only used you for your perfect body and pretty face before discarding you.
If he had a dollar for everytime he knew someone was thinking about you, he'd be a rich man. Well, he was already rich, but he'd be filthy rich if that was the case. The worst part was: there was nothing he could do. He was only able to give that man what he deserved because he had heard him say it, but not everyone was dumb enough to say it within earshot of him.
"Hey, you OK?" you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as you snapped him out of his thoughts. You had noticed that he was clenching his fists so hard that his nails were digging into the flesh of his palms and leaving red crescents behind.
"You know, you didn't have to punch him," you said, pushing another chair right next to him and taking his hand. "I am not letting grimy bastards like him get away with saying things like that about you, not at all," he told you.
You produced a disinfectant wipe from its packet, gently wiping it over his skin, cleaning the blood away from the area. Carlos quietly hissed as it stung, but he had been through a hell of a lot worse, so it was nothing he couldn't deal with.
"I thought you'd seen him wink at me but I guess not..." You quietly said, rooting through the first aid kit to find bandages. "Sorry, he winked at you? Fucking pussy ass bitch got off easy then. I'll kill him, I swear to god," he seethed, and you struggled to keep his hand still while you wrapped it up. "Baby, don't worry about it, he's gone," you said.
He was grappling with himself internally, wondering how you could remain so calm after what he had done and said. If he had it his way, Carlos would have hunted him down, punished him for a short while, then sent his body home in multiple parts over the span of a few weeks. "Sure, whatever you say," he reluctantly agreed, resting his hand to make it easier for you.
You wrapped the soft white cotton around his still slightly bleeding knuckles, before pinning it into place so it wouldn't come off. "Thank you, princess," he smiled, placing a hand on your thigh. "No problem," you told him, resting a head onto his shoulder while you waited for dinner.
"Have you still got that party on tonight?" You asked, tilting your head to look at him from the side. Shit he thought, having completely forgotten. It was a club that one of his associates owned, and he needed to go just to keep up appearances. Charles and Lando would be there too, so it wouldn't be all that bad.
"Yeah, yeah I do. I won't stay out too late, don't worry," he told you, kissing you softly on the top of your head. "Can I come with you?" you sweetly asked, knowing he wouldn't want you to go. But, you had the perfect plan to make him say yes.
"No, baby, no. You know what the people there are like," he dismissed, not wanting you around those people. Sure, Charles and Lando would be there, but they were the only other decent people that would be in your vicinity. "Please? I wanna go and have some fun," you pleaded, batting your eyelashes at him.
Carlos sighed, not wanting to regret the decision he was about to make. "Fine, you can come, but you have to stay by my side at all times, OK?" he said, already feeling nervous about taking you. But, saying no to you was the hardest thing he would ever do in his life, and he had never done it once.
"OK, yeah, of course," you happily giggled, glad to go out. Sure, you got to go out and do the day to day stuff, but never without security or Carlos hanging around you constantly. You understood why, since Carlos was in dangerous business with some minacious people, but it would still be nice to let loose for a night.
As soon as you had finished dinner, you ran up the stairs to get ready. Carlos smiled to himself, loving how you liked to get all dolled up whenever you went out. It also meant he would have his work cut out for him, keeping men away from you, but it was worth it if you got to feel like a million dollars.
Carlos came up to get changed not long later, spotting you pinning your hair into place at your vanity table. "Michael is ready with the car whenever you're ready to go," he told you, speaking about your driver that had been with Carlos since before you had.
"OK," you confirmed, finishing off your hair and applying a lick of lipstick across your lips. You walked into your wardrobe, scanning the hangers for a dress to wear. Despite the amount that you had, none of them really stood out to you.
"I like the red one, if that helps," Carlos called out to you, walking in as he tucked his shirt into his slacks. It was like he knew what you were thinking, and he always knew the solution to combat the problem. "Which one?"
"The one you wore for my birthday last year," he smirked, and your cheeks instantly heated up at the thought of what you got up to. You had never enjoyed a club bathroom more, and I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
"Sure, I like your thinking," you nodded, taking it off the hanger and slipping your silk robe off your shoulders. Carlos just watched as you slipped the red fabric over your body. It hugged your curves and made you look like a model.
You tried to twist your arms around to the back of the dress to zip it up, but Carlos was there in a flash to do the job for you. He braced on hand on your waist as he pulled the zip up towards your neck. When he was done, he placed soft kisses down your neck and across your bare shoulders.
"Hey, hey. Lay off it," you giggled, trying to struggle out of his grasp.
"But I don't want to," he whined, sucking on your neck and leaving red marks on the skin.
"Carlos!" you scolded, spinning away from him and looking at yourself in the mirror. The splotches were already turning a deep burgundy, and you ran your fingers over them. "Carlos," you sighed, pouting at him.
"How else are people going to know you're mine? It's for your own good, I promise," he smirked, swinging his jacket over his shoulders. Carlos walked over to the shoe rack, picking out the shiny black Louboutins that he adored on you.
He placed them in front of you and you stepped into them. They made your legs look longer, and the extra few inches looked good on you. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, Carlos held his arm out to you, and you took it.
"You look stunning, baby," he complimented, raking his eyes over your figure as you walked. "Thank you, you're looking rather handsome tonight," you returned.
"Thank you," he smiled, helping you into the car. Michael drove the pair of you to the club, and there was already a queue down the length of the street to the doors. The security guard let you and Carlos straight through with a nod of his head, pointing you in the direction of the VIP section that was cordoned off with a red rope.
Carlos threaded an arm around your waist as you weaved through the crowd in an attempt to keep you as close to him as possible. "You stay with me at all times, no matter what. If for whatever reason you can't find me, you stay with Charles or Lando, got it?" he reiterated, leaning down to talk in your ear so you could hear him over the loudness of the club.
"Yeah, I got it," you nodded, willing to do what he asked since he had reluctantly agreed to bring you with him in the first place. He saw people's eyes rake over your figure for longer than his liking, and he hated how sleazy the guys that came to these places were.
There was not a single good thing about them - they were truly the scum of the Earth that he wished he could squash beneath his feet. They were the reason he hated bringing you anywhere with him, and he didn't want them anywhere near you.
Carlos was on edge, to say the least, as he gripped onto your waist and tugged you impossibly closer to him. Charles and Lando were easy to spot as they sat together, downing some sort of shot. "Hey, guys," Carlos alerted them of your presence and they stood up to hug you.
"Hey Carlos, Y/N, you guys want a drink?" Lando shouted over the music, pointing to where the bar was. "Yeah, I'll come with, Y/N wait here with Charles," Carlos instructed, walking over with Lando. He couldn't stop himself from glancing over at you every five seconds as he waited for your drinks, and he hated being away from you.
Yes, it was only for barely even five minutes, you were in safe hands with Charles and you were in very clear view, but he still felt like he was too far away from you. Lando moved to the other side of Carlos, nodding over to two guys standing next to them at the bar.
"Listen," he said, and Carlos trained his ears on their conversation.
"You see the chick in the red dress?" one of them said, pointing in the direction of where you were sat. "Yeah, the one with Leclerc?" the other asked.
"Yeah, she is a knock-out. I'll bet you fifty that I can get with her tonight," he smirked, hitting his friend in the shoulder. "Isn't she with Leclerc? He won't let you anywhere near her,"
"No, he flies solo. She's probably just some trouncing bimbo after his money, she'll be an easy catch," he said, holding his hand out for him to shake in agreement.
"I'll take the one on the left, you get the one on the right," Lando said in his ear, eyes glued to the men who were starting to get suspicious. Carlos didn't want to cause a scene, so he had already, unfortunately, ruled out any form of violence. "No, no, I've got it covered," Carlos said, and Lando knew he'd be fine.
As Carlos approached, the men instantly knew who he was. "The chick in the red dress is pretty cute, you should go for it," he started, giving them a bit of confidence as small, sly smiles formed on their lips. "If you want to die, that is."
For a moment, they looked at him, confusion written all over their features. They really were thick and couldn't connect the dots that had all been laid out perfectly for them. "If you want to keep living your miserable, pitiful, useless little lives, I'd suggest you don't talk about or look at my wife ever again," he told them, suddenly turning serious.
Their faces completely dropped in horror as they backed away. Carlos was using every ounce of self-control that he possessed to not hit them. "S-sorry," one stuttered. Carlos loved to watch them squirm, loved to see the pure fear he could feel radiating from them.
"You should be, now fuck off," Carlos spat, wanting them out of his sight. He turned back to Lando and picked up your drinks, making a beeline straight for where you were with Charles. He sat beside you, so close that your thighs were touching as he wrapped a comfortable arm around your waist.
Holding onto you made him feel a bit more easy, knowing he could keep you safe if you were closer to him. As the boys settled into casual conversation, you had already finished your drink and were wanting another one.
As you usually would, you stood from your seat and started to walk towards the bar. "Hey, where are you going?" Carlos asked, grabbing your wrist.
"I'm going to get a drink, does anyone want one?" you asked, not seeing the meaning behind his question. "Not by yourself you're not, princess," he sighed, going to stand up with you.
"Don't worry about it, you guys got the last round, these are on me," Charles chirped, leaving the table. Carlos pulled you back down beside him as Lando carried on talking. "Remember, you don't go anywhere without me," he muttered in your ear.
No matter what, Carlos always had an arm around your waist or your shoulders, or a hand firmly on your thigh. People needed to see that you were his, and if they couldn't tell by the closeness of how you were sat with him, or the now purple marks down your neck and shoulders, then they'd be able to tell by the grasp he always had on you.
"I'm going to the bathroom," you told Carlos, taking his hand and standing from your seat again. "OK, I'll come with," he said, glad that you had told him where you were going. You were doing as he'd asked, and that made him happy.
"You wait here, I'll be out in a second," you said, trying to leave him by the door of the women's bathroom. Once he was sure you were in, he walked in and stood by the sinks. For all he knew, there could have already been some dickhead in there, waiting for some unassuming victim to walk into their lair.
One of the doors in front of him opened, and it was like the past was walking right out of there and smacking him square in the face. "Carlos! If you wanted to see me, you certainly didn't have to follow me in here," she winked, the pitch of her voice sending uncomfortable shivers down his spine.
"Marissa," he acknowledged, mentally willing you to hurry up so that he wouldn't have to deal with her for long. "Bit dodgy waiting in the ladies' room, don't you think?" she asked, sauntering up to him and running her hands across his chest. "Someone's been working out-"
"Get off me," he snapped, batting her hands away. Her touch felt agonizing, her fingertips like ice that he could feel through his shirt. "Aw Carlos, don't be so rude to your old friend, it's not like you're with anyone either," she cooed, her voice turning sultry in a way that was supposed to be seductive.
Rewind seven or so years, and Carlos would have fallen for her false charms and taken her home, maybe spent some of his hard earned money on her. But now, he had new eyes and saw right through her facade. He was glad to be out of that period of his life, because he was forced to become a better man, and that meant he could have you, and he wouldn't trade it for the world.
"I'm married, I'm waiting for my wife at the moment," he deadpanned, stepping away from her and folding his arms as a way to block her off from him. "Carlos Sainz? Married? Oh that's a funny one," she giggled, twirling her dark hair around her finger.
"I'm glad you found it funny, because I'm serious," he said, not even giving her the decency of eye contact as he spoke. "My Carlos would never commit to a relationship, let alone marry someone," she said like she knew him. She might have at one point, but she certainly didn't anymore.
"I'm not your Carlos, and I never will be again. Now go and enjoy your evening," Carlos told her, trying to get rid of her. "How about you come to my table? We've got drinks, you can bring Norris and Leclerc, I'm sure they'd love to get in on the fun," she said, batting her eyelashes at him.
"Marissa just piss off will you?" Carlos spat. As if by the grace of god, the other bathroom stall opened and you walked up. "Baby? Who's this?" You asked as if you hadn't heard their entire interaction. "Hey princess, this is Marissa, old friend of mine," Carlos explained, immediately welcoming you into his embrace.
"We were a lot more than friends," she smirked, clearly trying to make you mad. But, you knew that Carlos had a past, not a great one, but it was still a past he had been open and honest about. "I'm Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," you sweetly smiled, ignoring her comment.
You held your left hand for her to shake, your engagement ring shining bright and proud under the harsh lights of the bathroom. To be blunt, the rock that sat on your finger was massive, and unmissable. Marissa clearly caught it in her eyeline and visibly grimaced, before plastering a fake smile on her plastic lips.
"Likewise," she practically hissed at you, before turning back to Carlos. "Well, it's been nice chatting, but I'm going to have to go. Call me, Carlos. I've missed you," she flirted as one last attempt to make you mad, but you just found it pitiful.
When you knew she was gone, you turned to Carlos. "Call me, Carlos, I've missed you," you giggled, mocking Marissa's voice. He chuckled along, glad to have you back in his arms. "Come on, let's get back out there," Carlos said, pulling you along with him.
As you approached Lando and Charles again, you heard them cackling. "You will never guess who just came over here," Charles laughed, playfully whacking Lando on the shoulder.
"Looks like a walking corpse, awful voice, and an absolute slut for you, Carlos!" Lando giggled like a schoolboy. "Marissa?" Carlos said, cocking an eyebrow as if he were genuinely unknowing as to who they were talking about. "Aren't you clever, how'd you guess?" Lando sarcastically chuckled as the two of you sat down.
"Because she just tried to fuck me in the bathroom while I was waiting for Y/N," Carlos told them as he watched their faces turned shocked, yet extremely amused. "Shit no way!" Charles exclaimed.
"Yes way, I could hear her touching him and she said 'Someone's been working out' and I wanted to kill the bitch," you explained, Charles and Lando loudly laughing. Carlos was flabbergasted. He had never heard you say you wanted to kill anyone, or inflict any type of violence towards someone.
You were always so soft and compassionate, but he found this side to you amusing. "She might as well have gotten down on her knees and begged for it. 'Please fuck me Carlos, I'm a desperate whore for it!'" You mimed, causing Charles and Lando to double over due to how hard they were laughing.
Carlos, on the other hand, wanted you to say it again, but without mimicking Marissa. You had never begged for it, because you never had to. He gave you whatever you wanted at the drop of the hat, and most of the time, you never really asked for it. He just gave it to you. He gave anything to you.
You were loving the bitching session you were having with Charles and Lando, Carlos occasionally chipping in with a few words. Taking Carlos' hand, you inspected the red scabs on his knuckles. He was able to take the bandage off before you came out, since they had healed over pretty quickly.
"Who did you beat this time?" Lando asked with an air of levity, since he knew what Carlos was like. He had a short temper most of the time, especially when it came to anything to do with you. "Just some fuck who needs to wash his mouth out with bleach," Carlos tutted, looking at the red crusts scattered around the skin.
"I'm surprised the guy is still alive," Charles chuckled, and you never really got used to how braizen they were about ending people's lives. "So am I," Carlos agreed. You all carried on talking, and Carlos could feel eyes on him on occasion.
He looked over, past the red rope to see Marissa with her friends, all smiling and waving. He just rolled his eyes, but he saw there was a group of men with them that they had lured in. He supposed it was supposed to make him jealous, but it just made him feel sorry for them.
The guy's eyes kept on wandering onto you, and he was really wondering if this was going to be the third guy he'd have to have a word with for looking at you. It would be a new record. He stared daggers at the guy, but his eyes weren't averting from you.
He was sick of telling people you were his and he was yours. He figured he might as well just show them. You were completely oblivious to it, chatting merrily with Charles and Lando still.
Charles and Lando had clocked that he was staring someone down, and that always proved that he had something up his sleeve. "Baby, c'mere," he said, tugging you onto his lap by your waist. You straddled his thigh, slightly shifting around to get comfortable.
None of them seemed to get the hint, as the group of them carried on smirking and chatting while still watching you and Carlos. Marissa winked at Carlos, and he just couldn't take it. Without warning, Carlos captured your lips in a heated kiss.
He pulled you closer to him as your tongues danced in harmony and your hands kept him with you on the sides of his face. He kept on kissing you, barely giving you any room to breathe, but you didn't care. Kissing him was better than oxygen.
As you continued, you subconsciously rolled your hips against his thigh, and he had to brace his hands on your waist to keep you still. If you carried on like that, it would send him absolutely feral, and that was not what you needed right now. "Sorry," you smirked as you realised what he was doing.
"Don't be, not for that," he breathed, his heart pounding out of his chest as the group on the other side of the club finally got what you were doing, and finally started minding their own business.
You noticed a few of the boy's business associated approaching where you were sat, so you went to move from his lap. "No, you're staying right there," he said lowly in your ear, and you were happy to stay there.
It felt like he was talking to them for hours, and he probably was. They weren't really talking about anything of importance, since you were in public, but it was business enough to become boring. Carlos' work and deals never really interested you, you just cared that he was enjoying himself.
You yawned, resting your head on his shoulder and nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. You had enjoyed your evening, but you were starting to become a bit weary. "You tired?" Carlos asked quietly. "Just a little bit," you confirmed as his fingers traced up and down your spine.
"We can go home, Charles and Lando are coming back with us because we've got some stuff we need to talk about, but we can go," he told you.
"It's OK, you can carry on talking to people, I don't mind," you yawned again, still clinging onto him. Sure, it was loud in there, but you didn't really mind. You were safe and comfortable with Carlos, so you weren't really bothered.
"No, we're going home. My baby is tired, and she is top priority," he said, noticing how your eyes were slightly reddened due to tiredness. You didn't protest, simply letting him stand you on the floor. He said his goodbyes, and walked out with you, Charles and Lando.
Just as you got out to the pavement, where Michael was waiting for the four of you, you heard a shriek and you audibly groaned. "Carlos! Can you drive me home? I don't have a ride," Marissa appeared, attaching herself to his other arm.
"Get off me," he said, swatting her away from him like a fly on the wall.
"What, so you're just going to leave me here, with all of these people who want to take advantage of me?" she cried, scurrying along behind you.
"If it'll get rid of you, then that sounds like the perfect plan," he scoffed, opening the front passenger door for you to get in, but you didn't budge from where you were stood. You weren't the possessive type like Carlos was, since you knew he was completely loyal to you, but Marissa was getting on your nerves.
"Please? I'll reward you," she hummed, stepping closer to him. You were getting sick of it, and you couldn't hold yourself back. "Get your slutty ass away from my husband, whore," you spat, stepping in between them.
Marissa's eyes were clouded with darkness as she turned to look at you. "I think you'll find that your husband loves a whore," she countered, closing the gap between the two of you.
"I'm sure one of those men you were throwing yourself at tonight would love to take you home, but they probably find you insufferable as well," you said, crossing your arms as she got ever more close to you.
It was as if the events unfolded in slow motion, as her arm raised, ready to bitch slap you in the face. Carlos was quicker though, grabbing her wrist. "You've seen what I've done to people, so don't think I'm scared to add you to the long list of individuals who have fallen to my mercy," he told her, and her face was priceless.
Carlos liked it when people were scared of him, and he especially liked it when the people were people who he thoroughly disliked. "Alright, alright, whatever. Someone else will gladly take me home," she scoffed, walking away.
"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?" Carlos asked, holding the car door open for you again. "Oh I'm still here, she just got on my final nerve. That bitch put her hands on what's mine, and I can't have that," you smirked, hopping in and closing the door behind you.
He'd love to hear you talk like that more often. He didn't get to see that side of you regularly, but when he did, it made this tiny thing in his brain tick.
Charles, Lando and Carlos all clambered into the back seat as Michael pulled away from the club. The car ride was serene compared to the bustling atmosphere of the club, and it had gotten completely dark outside.
Once you were home, Charles and Lando went to sit in the living room and Carlos escorted you upstairs. For a second, you just stood in the middle of the room, not mustering up the energy to undress yourself. Carlos knew you too well, his hands finding the zip of your dress.
"Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling you backwards so that you were closer to him.
"Yeah," you nodded, appreciating that he was asking, even if he knew you would always say yes. "Thank you," he softly said, tugging the zip all the way down to the small of your back, the garment falling off your body into a pool around your feet.
"Do you want to put this on for now?" he asked, unhooking your robe from the back of the door. "Yeah, thank you," you said as he slotted your arms through the sleeves and tied the thin belt around your waist. "No problem, baby," he smiled, leading you over to the bed and gently sitting you down on the edge of it.
Carlos sunk to his knees in front of you, taking your left foot into his hand and slipping your heel off of you. He moved his hands over to the other foot, taking your other heel off. He leant forward, gently kissing the inside of your calf, his lips soft against your skin.
His lips moved up, to the inside of your knee, then your thigh, before he stood and leant over to kiss you on the forehead. "What do you want to sleep in?" he asked, standing in front of you with his arms folded.
He had taken his suit jacket off, draping it over a chair in the corner. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and he had undone his top two buttons. He looked downright delicious, but you couldn't help but want to see what was underneath the blue cotton.
It clung to every muscle of his arms and chest, and his cheeks were flushed a slight red due to the alcohol he had drunk. "I want this," you said, tugging at the material of his shirt. Yes, you did want the shirt, but you also wanted an excuse to see his brilliant physique.
Carlos just chuckled, seeing right through your facade, but he did as you asked anyway. He didn't say anything, he untucked it from his slacks and unbuttoned the rest of it, shrugging it off his shoulders and handing it to you. "Thank you, baby," you smirked, taking it from him.
You took your robe off and slipped your arms through the rolled up sleeves, only doing a few of the bottom buttons up. As you sat there, you couldn't help but stare at him. Perfectly sculpted muscles under lusciously tanned skin, the perfect combination. And it looked damn good on him.
"If you wanted me shirtless, all you had to do was ask, princess," he teased, a smug smile dancing across his face as he noticed your staring. He was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that, but he knew he was. And he knew that his girl knew it too.
"You're not going to do anymore of those buttons up?" he smirked, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was staring. He would have rather looked without the shirt in his way, but Charles and Lando were downstairs, so he needed to remain calm.
"No, it's comfier this way," you smiled as he disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared with a pack of makeup wipes in his hand. He sat beside you, gently wiping away the makeup from your face.
He held your chin with his fingers as he tilted your head up to look at him, making it easier for him to get everything off. "There we go," he softly said, inspecting your face to make sure he had gotten everything. "Can I take these out?" he asked, fingers tapping at the pins in your hair.
"Yeah, course," you confirmed, tilting your head down this time. He pulled the pins out of place, your hair falling all around your face. Carlos moved to sit behind you, splitting your hair into three strands and plaiting the sections and tying them.
"There you go, now you are all ready for bed," he smiled as you shuffled over to your side of the bed. He pulled the duvet over your body, kissing you on the forehead. "I'll be up as soon as I can, the stuff with Charles and Lando shouldn't take too long," he told you.
"No rush, take your time," you mumbled, your eyes falling shut already. Carlos collected another shirt from the wardrobe and turned the lights off. As he walked down the stairs, Charles and Lando saw that he was buttoning up the other shirt he had to get.
"What were you up to up there, Carlos?" Lando mischievously giggled, leaning forward in his seat. "Now we know why you had to take Y/N upstairs and she couldn't go by herself in her own house," Charles chipped in, also giggling along.
"If that was the case, I sure as hell wouldn't be back down here with you two. Now, what do you want to drink?" Carlos asked, approaching the drinks trolley that sat in the corner of the room. "Whatever alcoholic substance you'll give me," Lando said, and Carlos poured three glasses of some amber liquid for them.
"Perfect, now let's talk business," Charles smiled, taking his glass and handing one of the others to Lando. "So, transport is sorted, but we might have to make some changes to the personnel carrying it out, since the guys I talked to earlier today are thick as pig shit," Carlos explained.
"I've got the cargo waiting in the port until we send for it to be moved. I've had it all tested and counted every morning and every night since it's been there," Charles told them, and they carried on with their business talk.
You were still upstairs, tossing and turning. It had felt like hours since you had gotten into bed, but it had only been half an hour when you checked the clock on your bedside table. You had slept without Carlos plenty of times, but tonight was just one of those nights where you didn't want to.
Carlos had said he wasn't going to be too long, but you thought that the time you were waiting for was starting to constitute as long. There was no use in just waiting for an answer, so you shuffled out of bed and buttoned up your (Carlos') shirt a bit more.
You padded down the stairs as you heard them talking about yachts or something. Whatever it was, they seemed to have strayed away from business, but you never know. They could have started selling yachts.
"Carlos," Charles alerted him to your presence as you descended. He suddenly didn't have a single brain cell focused on business, he was solely thinking about why you would've come downstairs. One part of his brain started to worry that something was wrong, but you looked fine.
"Eyes off, boys," he quietly said, Charles and Lando averting their eyes from your shirt-clad figure. They knew how protective and possessive Carlos was with you, and they respected it. He didn't want anyone else seeing his girl the way he did. "Sorry to be a pest, I was just wondering what time you were coming to bed?" You asked, hoping he would just come up right away, but you weren't expecting anything. "Soon, I promise," he confirmed. He knew you didn't sleep overly well without him.
When he was holding you in his arms as you slept, you felt completely safe and like nothing could possibly harm you. Carlos had promised to protect you until he took his final breath, and you believed him. You had grown so used to being around him all the time, that you never wanted to be away from him.
"OK, sorry to interrupt again," you apologised, turning away and heading back for the stairs. "Don't be sorry, baby, it's OK," he told you, watching until you disappeared upstairs. Carlos finished up with whatever needed doing, and he said his goodnights to Charles and Lando.
"So, we've got the shipment moving on Thursday, set to arrive in Madrid on Saturday, and I'll be at the halfway point in Lyon, Carlos will be in Madrid, Lando will be at the start in Prague," Charles confirmed, outlining the basics of the big move that was happening.
"Yeah, and I'll be meeting you guys in Madrid on the Saturday as well to check up on everything," Lando nodded. Carlos had planned for you two to spend a couple of days in Madrid after everything had happened, and he was looking forward to the days away.
"You guys can hang around for a bit if you want, help yourself to anything and leave whenever," Carlos said, standing from his chair and leaving his glass on the table. Yes, Charles and Lando may have been his business associates, but they were also his closest friends that he trusted, so leaving them in the house wasn't an issue. They all had each other's backs, and were always there when needed.
"I'm here now, Miss Needy," he teased, opening the bedroom door and closing it behind him. "You didn't have to come up earlier than you planned, you know?" you sighed, rolling to face away from him. You didn't want to see that smug smirk of his, even when it was plastered on his handsome face.
"Well I did. If you want me, you have me at anytime of the day, no matter what, princess. But I know you already know that," he told you, clambering into bed behind you. "Goodnight," he mumbled, instantly feeling tired as he got comfortable.
Carlos wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you as close to him as he possibly could, nuzzling his head into your neck as he softly kissed it. "Goodnight, Carlos," you muttered through that darkness, already feeling more at ease with his mere presence.
You may have lived in a dark, definitely illegal world, but you wouldn't trade it for anything. Carlos' job was less than desirable to you, but he seemed to enjoy the thrill, so you joined him for the ride, and you always would.
A/N - OK so I absolutely adored writing this, I don't know if this is very 'mafia', but I still thoroughly enjoyed myself. I don't know why I'm suggesting this, since I'm already really behind on this, but would you want a part 2 in Madrid with some... Mafia drama? I won't elaborate, just lmk! Requests are open, love you! 💖
|masterlist|
okkk max!!!!!!!!!
so the reader is a just a normal person no job that comes with fame, i think they are a artist and own their own gallery in monaco, she grew up with max and they have been best friends for ever basically max biggest soft spot and he’s the most affectionate with her, he thinks she will never return his feelings so never says anything because their friendship is more important. i’m inspired by maxs birthday today but maybe after they have a party with max’s friends and family they are still on the boat alone and reader made max his favorite cake and she sings him happy birthday just them as she has since they were friends and she ask what he wished for, he says this and kisses her :) and obviously she kisses back and he tells her what he feels and is pleasantly surprised when she’s always loved him to and was waiting for him
:)
So excited to write my first Max piece! Slowly but surely I am becoming a Max girly...and Toast is helping me along with that! 🤪 I hope you like this, love - I sure do!
TW: not proofread
Summary: After growing up together, it's only a matter of time before feelings come out...right?
Childhood Crush | Max Verstappen | MV1
A small bell chimes as you sit in your studio, a paintbrush in hand. Taking one more glace at your canvas, you set down your brush and palette. Quickly, you try to clean yourself up; swiping away your baby hairs, checking your clothes in the full length mirror that laid against the wall – hoping your weren’t covered in paint. Walking out to the gallery side, you notice a taller guy browsing the art on the walls. “Hello! Let me know if you want any information on anything, I’ll be here.”
The guy turns, a familiar accent coming from his lips. “I’m here about a party?” He smirks at you. Max – your longtime friend, basically from the time you were learning nursery rhymes. “How you are, Y/N? I haven’t seen you in a while, you never come out.” His legs stride towards you, stopping just before you and giving you a hug.
Throwing your hands up in a shrug, you respond, “I’ve been in the studio preparing a new collection. You know how it goes…”
His hand comes up to your face, brushing away at your cheek. “Bit of paint there.” Seeming to need something a little more helpful to remove the paint, he licks his thumb – returning it to your face.
“Blegh!” You blurt, shrinking away from his soggy thumb.
His face turns to a fake frown, “Oh hush. It’s gone now.” Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, he pulls you back into your studio – sitting you both on the sofa. “You’re welcome, schat.”
Schat – something Max would say that would make your heart twist like someone wringing out a wet towel. You grew up with both of your guys’ parents calling you that term of endearment, but it always felt different when it came from Max. The little voice in your head always told you how wrong it was to feel this way for him, but your heart begged you for more. More time with him. More sweet nothings. More…everything. You had spent hours upon hours growing up, and even now, wondering what it would be like to be his schat.
Shaking the daydream from your head, you fill the silence. “So…you said something about a party.”
He grabs your hand excitedly, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Well, you know my birthday is coming up,” You nod your head. Of course you knew – you don’t just forget your lifelong best friend/crush’s birthday. “I’m having a party on the boat. Friends, family, you. I think we’ll make a day out of it. You’ll come?” His eyes are saying that he’s hoping to sway you.
You already knew you would say yes to going, but you had to make it harder than that for him. As you usually would, like old times. “I don’t know, Max. A whole day?” You shake your head. “I’ve got to finish this collection, I launch in two weeks.” All lies, the piece you were working on before Max arrived was the final piece you needed to finish, and you were practically done. He gives you puppy dog eyes, knowing it would work on you. Pretending to give in, you sigh. “I think I can make it work…just for you Maxy.”
* * *
You loved Monaco. You loved the sun, the people, the buildings. It all what led you to set up your gallery here, instead of back in the Netherlands where you were raised. Another thing you happened to love was the water. Luckily for you, you had a best friend who had a boat, and occasionally, you were invited on said boat.
The day had been full of fun. Your family had come down to attend as well, catching up with you both when time allowed. When not in the water, you were sunbathing with your mother and sister, laid out on the white cushions that sat atop every seat on his boat. As the sun went down, everyone sat around a table inside – a cake being brought to Max with a practical choir signing happy birthday to him as he blew out the candles. The day had finally wound down, the boat docking to let everyone go – you however had one birthday surprise you saved for just the two of you.
You sat on a lounge chair that was arranged with another in the boat’s lounge space, checking the paper bag you had hid all day – making sure your surprise was still there and in good shape. Hearing a sigh, your head pops up to see Max walking into the lounge. “Maxy! I have something for you…”
He rubs his hands together, his face looking as excited as it could – clearly drained from the day’s activities. “Is it an exclusive piece from your new collection? I’ve already got a wall in mind to hang it on…”
A frown finds its way onto your face. “Sadly, no. But I hope this makes up for it?” You reach into the paper bag, pulling out a single cupcake and a pack of birthday candles. Taking the cupcake out of the box, you stick a single candle on top. “Shit. I didn’t bring a lighter…do you have one here?” Max nods, getting up to dig through a couple of drawers – eventually coming up with one and handing it to you. He sits back down on the lounge chair across the coffee table from you, a soft smile on his face. You quickly light the candle, setting the lighter next to the cupcake on the table. Clearing your throat, you begin to sing a song you both made up – many, many years ago.
Today is the day,
It’s Maxy’s birthday.
We scream and we shake,
Because we want cake.
Ending your singing, you continue with the tradition. “Now let’s watch this…On three, Maxy will make his wish!” You giggle to yourself, Max’s smile wide as can be before he blows out the candle atop his cupcake. You clap for him, pulling the candle out of the cupcake so he can begin to eat it. “What was your wish?”
Swiping a bit of the frosting from the top of the cupcake, Max eats it off his finger. “Umm…this.” He stands from his chair, leaning across the table and grabs your chin pulling you to meet his lips. The sweet taste of vanilla entrancing you, pulling you out of your seat more – you wrap your arms around his neck. The kiss deepens as you surrender yourself, puzzle pieces snapping together.
After a minute he pulls back, shock on his face. “Wait, you’re okay with this?” Nodding, you kiss him once more before he pulls away again. “I didn’t just ruin our friendship…did I?” You shake your head, which triggers a smile on his face. “Y/N…this is -”
You put a finger to his lips, shushing him. “Max, shut up…I’ve been waiting for this moment to happen.” You laugh as you once again find his lips, the two of you moving together perfectly, as if it were meant to be. "I love you, Max."
With a chuckle, he speaks through your lips. "I love you too, mijn schat."
🤩 Taglist: @merchelsea
(Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!)
“I’d let you if you asked.”
Jason Todd always had a habit of being in your space. It's something you didn't mind, but it is something you kept note of. He leans towards you, head angled down to catch every sound that comes through your throat, observing every twitch of your muscles with a sharp, intent gaze.
But even if he always seems to linger in your shadow, even if his eyes darkened with the desire for something more, he was careful. He never touched you before you touched him, and he always caught himself, when his fingers instinctively reached for you.
Something as simple as a hug, a brush over the back of your hand, a tousle of your hair, he denied himself over and over again. It was almost frustrating to see him denying himself something you never held back from him.
He melts into every hug you give, relishes when you thread your fingers together, nearly drops to his knees every time you kiss his cheek.
But then he'll falter, when you pull away, like he's snapping back to reality. He'll remind you that he's not good. In not so many words, he tells you he's poison. That he'll end up ruining you. Breaking you.
You think he's silly for it, because Jason Todd is nothing but good. But you indulge him, brushing the stray strands of hair falling into his face back, "I'd let you, if you asked."
He blinks at you, eagerly leaning into your touch, with dumbfounded eyes, "You would?"
You smile at him, devouring the way his eyes flutter when you do, "I would. If you want to ruin me, all you have to do is ask."
He frowns a little, his hand raising to rest on top of yours, keeping your palm pressed to his cheek, "I don't want to ruin you."
"Then ask for something else," you encourage, voice soft and fond.
"Can I kiss you?"
It makes you laugh, maybe he's not so scared of you after all. The hope doesn't leave his eyes when you do, and you're more than happy to answer him, "Yeah. You can kiss me, Jason."
He's quick to take advantage of your agreement, and it turns out, Jason's kisses are just as sweet as he is.
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
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.
Sleepy Endearment
Charles Leclerc X Reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Reader becomes a human teddy bear
Warnings: none :)
Notes: Happy birthday to Lord Percival!
Masterlist
The thing about Charles Leclerc is that he loves to sleep more than he lets on. So when his girlfriend decided to get up to make breakfast, a birthday tradition, he didn't let her go.
A heavy arm around her waist kept pulling her back into bed every time she tried to escape. Which was not helping her mission of trying to make her lovely (and clingy) boyfriend something to eat.
"Sleep, mon chéri. It's too early to be awake." His raspy morning voice pleads.
"Sharl, I'm trying to be cute and make you breakfast."
He simply responds by rolling over on top of the female. "Could eat you instead."
She giggles at his antics. The clingy Monegasque continues to pull her underneath him. Their limbs tangled up in the sheets.
"Isn't it your birthday?"
"But you're sweet enough for me."
Finally, he gets both arms around her and flips them. He squeezes her like she's a teddy bear and refuses to let her go. "Warm."
She gives in to his embrace. It's not worth fighting him over this. At least, that's what she convinces herself the reason is and definitely not that he's stronger than her.
She attempts to tickle him only to be stopped and blocked from all angles. Again, she sighs in exasperation.
"At this rate, we'll starve to death." She huffs into his chest.
"The I will die a happy man."
"You're very endearing when you are sleepy. Did you know that?"
"Yes, because you say it almost daily in your beautiful morning voice." Charles punctuates each word with a kiss in a different place.
"Maybe if you keep kissing me, I won't try to leave."
"Oh mon amour, I can do much more then just kiss you if you want." Charles wiggles his eyebrows and both of them fall into a fit of laughter.
Breakfast didn't happen until almost noon kn a Monday. The afternoon sun filtering over their bodies as the Kitchen becomes a mess. But, on the brightside, they have enough energy to clean the mess up.
And maybe for some other things as well...
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!devil!reader Summary: When a young driver wants to make a deal with the devil to get his greatest desire you find yourself forgetting what side of Heaven and Hell you are on. Warnings: supernatural themes, mention of deaths (Jules, Hervé & Hubert), angst, fluff WC: 5k
F1 Masterlist || Bonus Scene
16th October 2013 The kid had no business standing at the crossroads. What could a boy need so desperately that he was willing to part with his soul for it? But it wasn’t your place to question, merely to answer.
The boy murmured to himself as he knelt on the gravel and started to dig with a pink trowel he had borrowed from his mothers gardening tools. The quiet mutterings brought you amusement as you thought of the surprise he would get when his doubt was proven wrong and you appeared.
He carefully followed the instructions inked on the page that had been torn from a very old book. He reached up to his dark hair with a small pocket knife and cut away a small patch before laying it in the hole he had made. Turning the knife on himself, he whined as he pricked the tip of his finger and squeezed it until three thick blood drops fell onto the strands of his hair.
You would usually laugh at the poor attempt of the incantation to call upon you but instead you sighed as you grew tired of the theatrics.
“What do you want, kid?”
A small shriek filled the night as he fell back on his ass. “But…but…you…but…”
“Shit, you’re not even old enough to talk properly,” you said as you knelt down to his height. “Go home.”
His mouth snapped closed before scrambling to his feet and wiping the dust that covered his jeans. “Sorry, you gave me a fright. I was expecting…” he looked around and frowned, “never mind. Do you need help?”
“No, do you?”
He looked genuinely concerned as he searched the dark road and you tipped your head to the side before you remembered that to a human you looked like a 21 year old. It didn’t matter that you had roamed the world for a thousand years, your physical form remained the same.
“I guess not,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped and he kicked his vans at the loose stones as he whispered, “it didn’t work anyway.”
“It was your pronunciation, Latin is a tough language. I’ll let you in on a secret, you can say the incantation in any language and it will work.” You leaned in closer and chuckled darkly. “The devil just enjoys torturing people.”
“But…but…”
“Great, we’re back to that, are we?” You rolled your eyes and opened your palm, a ball of fire erupting into the night and the scent of sulphur lingering after the flame burned out. “What did you expect when you called me?”
“You…you’re the…dev…”
“Devil,” you offered as his face paled and he stumbled backwards. “Say it with me. De-vil.”
“You’re the devil? But you look like an angel.”
“More or less, there’s actually a lot of us.” You clapped him on the back and grinned when he jumped. “So what can I do for you, kid?”
“I heard you could grant wishes.”
“I’m not a genie, I’m a dealer,” you said with a shake of your head. “You tell me your dream and I make it happen, for a price.”
He chewed on his lip, his conscience trying to warn him it was a bad idea. “What price?”
You flicked your hand out and the piece of paper on the ground flew into your fingers. “You know the price. How old are you anyway, kid?”
“I’m sixteen, today actually.”
“Congratulations!” You frowned as it didn’t sound quite right and he did the same. “Wait, it’s happy birthday, isn’t it? We don’t exactly have them since we are fallen, not born.”
“That's really sad.”
“Hell help me, you are an emotional one.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt the waves of empathy rolling off the teenager. “Listen, I’m all up for taking souls, it’s my job and I’m pretty good at it, but you seem like a nice guy so I’ll help you out pro bono as long as you don’t cry.”
“Really?” His excitement was almost as infectious as his smile as he grinned at your offer and you could tell that with a few more years of growth and maturity he would be as handsome as those goody-good angels.
“Really. So what’s your dream? And don’t go all ‘Disneyland’ and that shit, make it big.”
“I want to be a Formula One World Champion.”
“Fuck, okay, I said big not gigantic,” you said as you cracked your neck and then your knuckles before rolling your shoulders. “That will take some time to pull off, but we got this, kid.”
“Charles, my name is Charles Leclerc,” he said as he held his hand out. “Do devils have names?”
“Of course we have names, but names have power and I don’t know you well enough to share mine with you.” You shook his hand and he jumped a little at the heat difference since the hellfire made you run hotter than humans. That same heat flickered up your spine as you felt another calling at a crossroad half a world away and so you stepped away. “I’ll check in once a year to see your progress.”
“Wait, that’s it?”
You laughed darkly as thick smoke began to gather at your feet where the earth was opening to your home realm. The teen yelped as a lick of flame encircled his wrist but the scar that appeared just as quickly healed so no one would know he had been marked by the devil. “Goodbye, Charles.”
16th October 2014 “I wasn’t sure you would actually come, I thought you were a figment of my imagination.”
You stepped out of the shadows and looked around the modest home that should have been full of his friends celebrating his 17th birthday. The air was thick with grief and it made your back ache from the weight of it bearing down on you as you watched the teenager stand with his back to you at a bookcase.
“Maybe I am,” you murmured as you walked over to him and saw his eyes fixated on a photo.
Placing the photo back carefully on the shelf he turned and you saw the difference a year had made. “I want to make a deal. My soul, take it.”
“Woah, slow down, Birthday Boy, you don’t know what you are offering.”
“I don’t care, I just need him to be alright.” Tears were swimming in his eyes as he grabbed your hand and squeezed tightly. “Fix Jules, please.”
Unable to resist, you reached out and touched the tear that ran down his cheek. Pain obliterated your chest, crushing your insides as waves of memories flooded your senses until you knew Jules just as well as he did.
For the first time since your fall a thousand years ago, you were envious of the angel you had been. You wanted to be the cause of his hope, but that wasn’t something you could give and you tugged your hand from his hold before they could blister his skin. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Bullshit! You are a dealer, you said so yourself.”
“That’s not how it works, Charles, I’m a devil. Don’t you see? The deals I make are selfish, the things people want for themselves. You want a miracle,” you sighed and felt the familiar ache where your wings once were, “I can’t do those anymore.”
“You got me into Formula Renault.”
“You got yourself there, kid,” you said as you stepped away. “I just whispered a few suggestions to people I knew would listen.”
It was a little more threatening involved but you weren’t going to let him know that. You hadn’t needed to do anything other than get someone to give him a chance since he had the talent to win all on his own.
“There has to be something you can do,” he pleaded, his green eyes swimming with tears.
You sighed as you stepped away, rubbing your temple as if you could actually get a migraine like a human could. “I can’t make any promises, but…let me see what I can do.”
You faded from the room before you could see the hope that filled his face and followed the memory of his visit to Jules, finding yourself in the shadows of a hospital room. The room was empty except for the young man laying on the bed, wires and tubes keeping his breathing steady. You were struck by the pain you felt and knew it wasn’t real but the lingering effects of sharing Charles’ memory of him, but that knowledge still didn’t ease the ache.
“Azrael, come down here.”
It only took a second for the angel to appear and she didn’t look pleased at being called away from her duties.
“You’re not an archangel anymore, you can’t just snap your fingers at me.”
“Obviously I can since you showed,” you pointed out. “I need a favour.”
“You don’t do favours,” she said as she narrowed her eyes.
“I do now. I need you to leave him alone.”
Azrael looked at the comatose man before reaching forward and touching his forehead and shaking her head. “He’s one of ours, he has to come with me soon.”
“You have no sense of time, whatsoever. Soon could be 50 years from now.” You crossed your arms and stared the death angel down. “I’ll deny three souls in exchange for his life.”
“You’d turn down three deals for Jules? Who is he to you?”
“No one, but he means everything to someone else. Do we have a deal?”
“Deal, he has until I next come back down, no more.”
You nodded in agreement hoping her sporadic trips to earth erred on a lengthier time away this round. Unfurling her wings, you felt a pang of jealousy arise as you watched her fade away only to hear the strong beats of her wings carry her higher.
You aparated back to Charles and found him slumped in a leather reading chair, an album of photos open on his lap. Droplets splattered on plastic sleeves, only to smear into streaks as he wiped them away at your arrival.
“I bought him some time,” you said softly as you fell into the seat opposite him. “I can’t say how long because I don’t know but for now he will live.”
Charles dropped the book as he fell to his knees and clutched your hand tightly, the gesture making you uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he choked as his tears hit your knee through the rip in your skinny jeans and turned to steam. He didn’t seem to be affected by the heat radiating off you, he didn’t seem to feel it at all as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your joined hands. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, kid,” you said ruefully, pulling your hand back from the touch. “Healing was never my gift. He will have to do that on his own.”
“He will, I know he will,” Charles said with certainty as he rose to his feet. “He’s the strongest man that I know.”
You stood up with a nod and realised this year he was the same height as you, seeing eye to eye after his latest growth spurt.
“I hope you are right,” you said, feeling the floor start to give way beneath you as you willed yourself home. “Until next year, Birthday Boy.”
Charles’ nose wrinkled at the smell of sulphur filling the room and he stepped back at the sight of the black plume swirling around your boots. “You don’t have to wait a year, you can visit anytime.”
“Have you forgotten who I am?” you laughed as the smoke climbed higher.
“Just because you’re the devil, it doesn’t make you bad,” he said with a shy shrug. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”
He was right in the fact you had been kind, something no one else would say about you. You couldn’t explain why you were different with him, why you couldn’t treat him like any other advantageous young man wanting to get ahead. There would surely be hell to pay if word ever got out about it.
The smoke reached your throat and pulled you down. “Maybe I made a mistake.”
16th October 2015 Charles would never know it but you had visited him throughout the year. You had kept to the shadows, watching from afar as he graduated to Formula 3 and came one step closer to reaching his dream. You were there by his side when he received the phone call that had devastated him, you had felt Azrael’s presence on the mortal plane and immediately went to him. You didn’t reveal yourself, not when the gut wrenching sound he made had you hate having fallen. You could offer him nothing so you remained hidden, torturing yourself with the knowledge of what could have been.
It was a little before midnight when you arrived at the busy nightclub. You should have just apparated into a bathroom stall but instead you had to produce a fake ID so the bouncer would let you in.
“Guess I can’t call you kid anymore,” you said as you found Charles in the VIP area and took a seat beside him. “Happy Birthday.”
“Who’s this angel, Charles?” his friend asked with a confident grin.
You tipped your head back with a laugh before you recovered enough to say, “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, but you call me D.”
Charles nearly choked on his drink at the snort he gave. “What are you doing here, D? I don’t remember inviting you.”
You leaned closer to see his cheeks flushed pink with the alcohol he was now legally allowed to imbibe in and whispered, “There’s only one place I need an invitation, and despite the name on the door outside - this isn’t Heaven.”
With a huff of annoyance he stood up and made his way out of the VIP area to the packed dance floor. Knowing everyone was completely inebriated you didn’t bother to follow him, instead you suddenly appeared in front of him.
“Leave me alone,” Charles growled as he turned his back, but everywhere he went you were in front of him.
Finally he gave up escaping and you shoved a hand on your hip as you asked, “What’s your problem?”
“My problem? You lied to me, that’s what!” The drink in his hand spilled over the rim of the glass with the angry shaking overtaking his body. “Jules died…and you weren’t even there. You never visited me and…I needed you. I needed to know why!”
You took the glass from him and tipped the liquid back, relishing the burn of the alcohol down your throat as he stared daggers at you. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, mortal.”
“Well, we never made a deal, so there’s no need for you to be here, devil.”
The words hurt more than you cared to admit and the glass shattered in your hand, ichor flowing from the wounds before they could heal as quickly as they came. Charles' eyes widened at the dark liquid coating your palm and he almost looked worried for you but you weren’t looking at him. Your eyes were fixed on your heels, the shoes uncomfortable compared to the boots you normally wore but you had wanted to fit in. For him.
“You’re right,” you muttered as you freed your hair from the constricting hair tie and kicked the shoes off. There was nothing to be done about the tight red dress until you were home, but you would be there soon enough. “Goodbye, Charles.”
16th October 2016 Try as you might, you couldn’t stay away. Unbeknownst to Charles, you regularly checked in to see what his latest accomplishments were. As it was, he was leading the Formula 3 Championship and was a sure graduate to Formula 2. He raced like he had the devil breathing down his neck, pushing the boundaries to the brink of disaster.
Maybe he knew you hadn’t abandoned him, or maybe he just didn’t care. You knew you definitely shouldn’t have cared but still you watched him grow into a man and mature as his career evolved.
16th October 2017 You had nearly started another war the day Azrael came for Charles’ father. For three days you stood ready to fight the angel of death for Charles’ biggest supporter while he visited the hospital to say his goodbyes. He had lied to his father, telling Hervé that he had signed to a Formula 1 team for the next year and you promised to make it happen - with or without a soul to bargain.
It wasn’t a difficult task to achieve, a small incident with Pascal Wehrlein making a seat available in Sauber. All Charles had to do was keep his head in the game and go fast like he always did.
When you watched him celebrate his birthday his eyes had glanced around the room and you wondered if it was you he was looking for. It was only when those green eyes landed on a family photo you pushed the silly thought away, he was just missing his father.
16th October 2018 “How long have you been there?” Charles asked the empty room.
How he sensed your presence, you didn’t know, but since you no longer needed to hide it you let the shadows fall away. Turning away from where he had been styling his hair in the mirror, he leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
His room hadn’t changed all that much, Ferrari posters still covered the majority of the walls but they were also joined by some models posing on hoods of cars. The twin bed had been upgraded to a double and was covered in a red and yellow bedspread that clashed with your trademark black outfit as you lay across it.
“How often do you do that?”
“Do what?” you asked innocently as you stared at his ceiling and not his narrowed eyes.
He waved a hand over your leisurely state. “This.”
You got off the bed and stalked across the room to the Formula 1 racer and found you had to look up at him even with the heels on your boots. “Don’t mortals leave home by now? I thought the 21st birthday was some big right of passage.”
You reached for the tub of hair product and sniffed at the vanilla scent before it was swiped from your hand. It smelled edible and there was another scent that was just as good but you weren’t sure what it was or where it was coming from until you leaned closer to him and inhaled.
“I just bought an apartment but it’s not ready for me to move into for a few more weeks. Will you stop that?”
“What is that smell?” Your head was swimming as if you were high but that wasn’t possible. “My head…”
You could barely stand upright as you felt drunk all of a sudden and Charles caught you as you stumbled back. “Sit down,” he said softly as he guided you to the edge of his bed. “Why did you come back?”
Your head lolled onto his shoulder and the room spun as the truth tumbled from your lips. “I never left you,” you admitted, your words slurring as the intoxicating smell left you dazed. “Not when Jules died…or your father, never…”
Charles frowned as your eyes closed and you fell back on his bed. He had spent so long blaming you, being angry at you, believing you had abandoned him when he needed you most but as you murmured in your strange state he realised he had it all wrong.
“D?” he called out as he shook your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy and you curled into a ball as your stomach churned. “Because I shouldn’t care. You’re just a human.”
“But you do care,” he surmised as he grabbed the blanket and draped it over your shivering body.
“Devils don’t care.” You could hardly talk through your chattering teeth, the blanket doing nothing to warm the ice that had seeped into your being.
Charles curled himself up against your back and tightened his arms around the blanket as he tried to warm you. Nothing seemed to work until his voice spoke softly in your ear, “Then maybe you’re not like the others.”
The silence grew and he thought you had passed out when you muttered, “I had nowhere else to go.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a war…couldn’t choose a side…threw me out.” A yawn silenced your words and you snuggled into his arms, your nose finding that delicious scent strongest on his neck where you nuzzled deeper.
“My cologne,” Charles whispered and you realised you had asked aloud what it was. “You’re like a cat high on catnip.”
“Haven’t been high since I had wings.” You giggled, a sound so unlike you, but it turned to a sad sigh. “I miss my wings.”
Charles brushed your hair back from your face but you didn’t have the strength to open your eyes. “What colour were they?”
“There isn’t a colour to describe them. But you can see it at dawn…look to the east…the last star in the morning sky.”
“The Morningstar?” Charles looked down to see your lips parted with a soft snore and reached into his pocket for his phone. There was no way he was going to leave you in the state you were in, not even for his own birthday party.
16th October 2019 You had thought Azrael had forgotten the deal you made but she made sure to remind you of it when she crossed paths with you at the Belgium GP. Charles’ head had snapped your way the moment he heard the crash and you shook your head sadly. The only reassurance you could give him was that the young driver’s soul was at peace.
Before leaving with her precious cargo, Azrael had given you two months to keep your end of the bargain and you didn’t want to test her patience. The crossroads had been quiet and it took nearly the whole time to find three souls worthy of denying a deal, most people who offered their souls for their greatest desires deserved the eternal damnation in return.
As soon as your task was fulfilled you returned to Charles, to the only place you felt at home. After waking in his arms a year ago you had struggled with the duties expected of you, finding more and more excuses for the downturn in deals. After waking in his arms, you wanted to be more than what you were. You wanted to believe you could be more, like he believed in you.
“D,” Pierre greeted as he joined you at the bar. “Still looking as lovely as ever.”
“Still the charmer.”
His attempt to shift closer to your side was blocked by the heat radiating from you and he pulled back with a frown, brushing the oddity off in his tipsy state. “Where have you been?”
“Here, there, everywhere,” you answered absentmindedly as you felt Charles’ presence before you spotted him. “I travel for work.”
“Let me guess - modelling?”
“Dealing.”
“No way!” His eyebrow shot up and he leaned in to whisper, “Drugs?”
“Not quite,” you said with a laugh. “Something far more lucrative.”
Charles’ hand came to rest on the small of your back and his lips brushed your cheek. “Sorry I’m late, ma diablesse. What are you drinking?”
“I could do with a-” your voice trailed off as a fissure ran through the air and you turned to see what had just walked in the door. “Hold that thought.”
“What’s wrong?” Charles asked but you were already weaving your way through the crowd.
Waves of power rolled off the beast but no one would see the tusks spearing out of its face or the black soulless eyes, they would merely see a mountain of a man and a vibe that warned them to move aside.
“This is a bit out of your territory, Fowler. What are you doing topside?”
The demon looked over your shoulder and smirked. “Heard some interesting rumours.”
“And what rumours were those?”
“That some darling angel was caught up with a mortal, helping out for free. You know the rules. No soul, no deal.” Fowler’s hand snapped out and caught your throat, his claws threatening to tear it out. “Don’t forget who took you in when your family threw you out.”
“Fuck you, I’ve more than paid my debt,” you spat as you grabbed his wrist and seared his skin with the lick of your flames. “Don’t come and threaten me.”
“I don’t have to threaten you,” he chuckled as he cradled his hand to his chest and looked past you to where Charles was pushing his way to your side. “Mortals are so weak, a little accident is all it takes.”
There was no way you could let Fowler return to Hell with the information he had, your weakness, so you did the only thing you could to protect Charles. You rushed the demon as the ground opened, disappearing into the pit with him before Charles could follow. You called all of your power and funnelled it into your fire, pouring it down the demon's throat until he was smothered by the flames and a smoking husk that turned to ash as you crashed to the ground.
“Morningstar, what is the meaning of this?”
You bowed to Beelzebub before kicking away the ash that had settled on your boot and painted a dark smile onto your face. “He interrupted a deal, I couldn’t let that grievance go unpunished. Or did you want me to forgive him?” You challenged him with an arch of your brow until he huffed a sigh and waved the question away with the whip of his tail.
“So where is the contract for the soul?”
“Did you miss the part where I said he interrupted the deal?”
“I’m not sure if I liked you less as an angel or not,” he uttered from his throne of skulls.
“I have that effect.” You started to leave the way you came but a chain snared around your ankle and locked into place before you could escape.
“Not so fast.” You were thrown onto your ass as he yanked the chain and dragged you to the foot of his throne. “I find myself short of an enforcer,” he said as he looked pointedly at the pile of ash you had created.
“So find another,” you growled as you tried to melt the chain but it merely absorbed the heat you poured onto it, “there’s no shortage of brainless fools ready to serve you.”
“But look how that ended,” he laughed. “How about a deal? Ten years as my enforcer for your freedom.”
Freedom. Ten years was nothing, just a blip to an immortal, but you weren’t thinking of yourself. You were thinking what ten years would be for Charles. Would he have a wife and kids? Would he have won his world championship? Would he remember you?
“Two,” you countered.
“Five.”
“Deal, but on one condition.” You stopped fighting the chain and rose to your knees. “I want a soul.”
16th October 2024 You were beyond exhausted when you stumbled into the bedroom, using the last of your strength to find your way back to him. The last five years had been brutal and it was a miracle that you had survived to complete your end of the deal, much to Beelzebub’s chagrin. The bastard had thrown every impossible task your way but you had something he could never understand, hope. And it kept you fighting to the bitter end.
You crashed onto the bed as your legs gave out and he leapt up at the intrusion, the bedside lamp lighting up and illuminating his silhouette as he stared at you wide eyed. “Ma diablesse? You came back…”
“Always, Birthday Boy.” You reached for him, needing to feel him with your own two hands after missing him for five years. It was his face that had kept you alive and you cupped his jaw to pull him closer only to freeze at what you felt. “Charles?”
“What? What is it?” he asked with panic as he placed his hands over yours, holding them tight to his cheeks.
“You have a beard,” you whispered, turning his face to the side to see the styled hair on his jaw. “When did that happen?”
Charles laughed and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as he crushed you against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“I would have been back sooner but I made a deal with the devil.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out an unassuming medallion. “A soul, my soul.”
Charles frowned in confusion as he trailed a finger over the symbols of an ancient language long forgotten. “What do you mean?”
“No more devil deals, if you’ll have me, I would be human.”
Shock rippled through his features. “You would give up immortality for me?”
“Hell is an eternity without you,” you said before you pressed your forehead to his, sharing his breath of life. “And if I never make it back to Heaven at least I will have had a moment of it here with you.”
Bonus scene here.
Need to reblog this just so I can keep coming back to it... good lord is this writing amazing.
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
sexy barbed wire stitching on the collar of my new (old) battle jacket