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seductivebac0n · 7 days

Text

hear me out.

dick grayson x male reader.

summary: dick pushes you to your limits in the gym, and your animosity towards him slowly transforms into unexpected admiration (and unlocks months of concealed pining).

wc: 7.2k. genre: smut. warnings: top!dick, dom!dick, bottom!reader, sub!reader, one sided rivalry (reader's end), enemies to lovers(?), brief fighting, reader and dick are working out, physical fighting (with boxing gloves), envious!reader, insecure!reader, hotheaded!reader, uncut!reader, public!sex, gym!sex, dirty talk, praising, guidance, handjob, fingering, kissing, spitting, lots of sweat, body worshipping, reader will be walking funny for the next week.

Your shoes squeaked after every thump from landing on your feet. One foot chased after the other in a pursuit, and your knees raised past your navel as the cable rope cut through the air with a turn before hitting the ground. You huffed after every snap of the rope, a burn scalding the muscles in your thighs and wrists with every rotation, tensing as if you’d been hit, as if your coarse throat would feel the remnants of the whip afterward.

“Five…Four…Three…”

Sweat dripped off your forehead, off the locks of your bouncing hair, in anticipation of a merited water break. The water bottle sat on the seated stationary bench, pooled by its own condensation. You could taste it with your eyes, a ravishing sight that pushed you harder. You sped up, raised your knees higher, and endured the pain for ten seconds more. Your gut was sucked in, engaging with your core, and your breathed out in methodical puffs, your chest rising along with it. Everything was burning, muscles tightening into flaming knots that would render you frail by tomorrow morning. If the floor was lava, your body was the volcano erupting it.

Holy bells rang once you finally counted down to zero, and you immediately came to a halt, the weight of your gratification breaking your movement with an echoing thud as you instantly marched forward to quench your thirst.

“Fuck.”

Your nostrils stung more than usual. Flared with every inhale as you were catching up to your breath, and more so when you cooled down with several sips of water. Breathing had never felt so good, an absolute fiend you turned out to be after every workout.

You’re getting weaker. Breathing harder. Quicker. You’re losing control on your breath. How are you going to keep up with the team? If you feel this fatigued after a warm up? You let them down last time. Got knocked out and Dick—

He was getting to your head. Again.

Dick.

The name rolled off your tongue bitterly. A foul taste of metal and battery acid lingered in your parched mouth before it was drowned out by another gulp of water. Another.

And another.

And another, as the aforementioned man across from you halted his ropes, stopping in his tracks.

He’d been doing this since you’d arrived. Mirroring you like a reflection, copying your every move as if you were an instructor. If you were doing strength training, he stopped his cardio to take the machine next to you. Pushed when you pushed, groaned—louder—when you did.

Needed to stretch your hips? He made some lame excuse about how his legs were too tight, and felt the need to join you on the floor, stretching himself beyond the limits of what you could achieve. It colored you impressed, but you would never say that out loud. Though, you did silently admire the view of his ass, and that especially, would be kept a secret between you and the floor.

Now, it was with jump-roping. The two ropes swung from either corners of the gym like the gears working silently in your head. There was a need to compete with you for some reason.

A satisfied smirk rolled a drop of sweat off his face, and seized his naked torso with glitter as he took a step under a light that lit his body like a podium, or—and you hated to admit it—like one of the sculptures you remembered fawning over in Art History. From his broad build, you could tell that Dick was sturdy, toned, and undoubtedly beautiful.

His fringe clung onto his forehead, but you could see the gratification he got from outlasting you, smiling while he squeezed a stream of water into his mouth. You noticed how much more capable he was with the calmness of his breath, and felt his adrenaline pumping through the room. In turn, it possessed you—his energy–maneuvering you to the center of the room where a foam mat was placed, and to which Dick expectedly trailed after you.

“Wanna have a go, partner?” Dick said while rolling his shoulders back before picking up a pair of boxing gloves, then another without your confirmation.

“Seriously—“ He tossed the other pair towards you, an accurate shot that landed into your arms. “Are you going to be doing this all day? Copying me?” You silently thanked him because you began kneading one glove like a stress ball, the rubber foam absolutely gratifying with every scrunch of your hand, as well as consoling as it kept you sane for a little longer.

“I don’t see the problem—“ You began approaching him with the gloves fitted snug over your fists. “Well, actually. I do see the problem. You’re not training hard enough.” Marching with heavy stomps, your nose flaring with every breath that he casually spat out.

“You give up as soon as you feel tired. I mean, no amount of water breaks are going to help you. You think we have the time to sip water when we’re rescuing a town? A city? The world?”

His voice, soft and smooth yet it was grating to your ears. The constant talking. Rambling. It gave you a headache. It made you see red. Hearing him berate you. Mock you.

“You’re breathing too hard too, which is taking up all of your energy. And your emotions? You need to control them better. Not only does it affect your combat, but your relationship with your team. You shut yourself off when you don’t do well on a mission.”

“What are you, my therapist now?”

“Listen, it does no one any good if you’re—“

And it stopped with a strong swing towards his left cheek. His head snapped to the side when the rubber foam smacked him like a whip.

If red hadn’t blurred your vision, you would’ve noticed the tiniest smile he mustered up from the corner of his lips. A crooked, slanted one that was followed up with a chuckle.

“Not exactly fair play, but…” He raised a hand to rub at his cheek before adjusting the gloves onto his wrists, cracking his neck and stretching the muscles in his back with one more shoulder roll before positioning himself like you were: knees bent and fists raised with the gloves fencing off your face.

“I’ll give it to you. You can throw a good punch. Beginner’s luck?”

The comment made you swing at his left, and he snapped his head to the right. You missed. There was a precision to his move, something that you lacked in as he snuck a punch to your right cheek. A grunt was stifled, and then let loose in a cough when you felt another beat to the left of your abdomen. Sputtering breath, when Dick scored another hit to your jaw.

“Fuck—“ Your eyes locked on him while he held your gaze. Your perception seemingly widened, heightened as you’d noticed the smallest movements from Dick, twitching upon instinct as if he was about to strike, but there was nothing. Just the taunt of his arms, and Dick’s teasing smile to garnish, to taunt.

He was circling you. You were circling him. It was the same movement, following each other like two predators unwilling to share the last morsel of food. You felt as much as a leader as Dick was, but from the outsider’s perspective, it was telling who was following the other’s lead.

Who was the experienced leader of the two sparring men.

Dick feigned a punch with a raise of his arm, and you immediately buckled, jerking back to nothing but a bluff of a hit. You were then greeted by an obnoxious chuckle before he landed a successful sneak to your head, a hit impactful enough to rattle your knees and knock a scoff out of you.

“Be observant. I punch better with my—”

Another swing to his left cheek. Successful, and harder this time, as it managed to stumble him from his stance. You could feel the impact of your fist on Dick, even if it was cushioned by foam.

It was exhilarating.

“Fight better with your mouth closed too.” You spat, raising your arm to strike the same cheek again. Dick detected it before you could attack, and ducked lower to the right, where he met a sudden fist to his jaw, a calculative undercut that sent him falling onto his back.

“Shit—“

Something unleashed in you. The red in your vision had scorched, burned blue as it reached its highest temperature. You immediately seized the opportunity to straddle him, to face the source of your belittlement, to look at the leader that everyone on your team had silently wish you were, that everyone had admired, to somehow stare and pierce him long enough with your eyes that you were able to tear into his body and take his incredible abilities and mold them into your own, becoming that someone that you had undoubtedly admired as well.

You threw another blow to his face, enough to knock a groan out of him. It was pleasing to your ears, the low trembles of his voice because of your touch, they twitched with gratitude. But you needed more, a beg from Dick, a plea for you to stop. You threw another punch, and then another as you became blinded by rage. It was out of your control, your arms had a mind of their own as they continued wailing on Dick, even if he had shielded himself with his arms for the last minute now.

You breathed hard, tossing your gloves off as you held him down for a stronger grip and prying his arms from his face. A need to touch him, to feel the impact that your gloves had been restraining you from. You pinned him by his bare and sweaty shoulders that made the grasp all the more slippery, but you nonetheless held him anywhere you could, by his biceps now, and stared into him. You peered into those brown eyes that mysteriously settled your fury until you’d succumb to the beautiful tranquility of his orbs, quietly pacific compared to his mouth.

Dick’s chest was rising. Up and down like your own, recovering from the pummeling you had given him. His eyes were widened as he watched you—studied you. No marks on his face, thankfully due to the cushions you were begging to be replaced with stone a tantrum prior.

It was humiliating to prove him right, about your emotions, and you sat still, on his lap, breathing. Your fists had stripped you of the little energy you had left, and turned it into mush, but you found support in the warmth of Dick’s body, still breathing. Your grasp had loosened, but remained on his biceps. Warm skin, and ever slightly kneading because of your own envy of Dick’s strength.

You felt your eyes closed, shutting yourself off of the supply of Dick’s silent consolation as the adrenaline pumping through your veins had slowed. “I can never be you, can I?”

“Who says you have to?” Finally, Dick’s voice hadn’t grated your ears like it had in the past. It was gentle as ever, but this time, there was a warmth to it that you wished you could be bundled up in if it had a physical body. A spirit that could temper you with just its warmth, rather than the toxic heat that had just boiled your rage.

“Because—they’ve seen you, Grayson. They know how you operate with the Titans. I can see it, you know? The way they look at you, then the way they look at me. It’s just…”

“You know, my team looked at me like that when they saw how Bats ran the Justice League.”

“With disgust? Contempt? Disdain? All of the above?”

“No,” He laughed, gathering himself half-way up with the support his elbows. “with... relief?”

“That’s… not helping?” You rolled your eyes, and then felt yourself flush upon coming to realization upon your current position on his lap when he sat halfway up. “Sorry—“ Without making eye contact, you brought yourself off Dick’s hips, but found yourself suddenly pulled back by the waist.

“No, no. What I meant was…” He cleared his throat, sitting up as he positioned you back on his lap again. His hands interlocked against the small of your back, a devise to keep you from abandoning him on the lone mat, but to also pull you closer, hip to hip.

“Batman… is impressive. You’ve seen him, right? How he has this presence that automatically appoints him as leader. Commander, really. I don’t know anyone that can plan better than him, but that’s not to say that he doesn’t have his faults. He’s all business, little relations. So are the others. You’ve seen them too. Supes, the Lanterns. I respect it. They respect him because of that, and vice versa. But… that’s not how my team works. Not the Titans.”

“I see…” You shifted, nodding every now and then as you listened.

“It’s just… My members are more than co-workers, you know? This isn’t some nine-to-five job that you’ll probably quit after five years. It’s… our lives now. And with them, they’re with me every step of the way. So, they’re more than co-workers. You don’t protect co-workers. Not saying the Justice League don’t care about each other… But what you do protect are friends, families. Yeah, they’re my family, so I treat them as such. And maybe… that’s why they seemed relieved they were part of my team. And…”

“I just have to find what works with my team?”

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are just starting out. Everyone’s still adapting, still getting to know each other, still figuring out each other’s powers, right? Things are bound to be a little more destructive in terms of chemistry.”

“I don’t know… I just… I don’t know if I can lead them like you guys can. I’m not like you guys. In terms of skills, in terms of leadership, in terms of—“

“Then work on that with your team. That’s what a good leader does, they seek out help from their teammates and let them know that their opinions and help are valued.”

It sounded absolutely simple. Something that shouldn’t have taken you this long to figure out, but Dick was right. Rather than seeking for your team’s help, you thought you had to endure whatever situation had arisen on your own. It weighted heavily on your shoulders, until you couldn’t muster up the strength to push your own weight. And in turn, that affected your team. You needed them, just as much as they needed you.

“And here you are…” Dick continued, suddenly bursting with a smile. “Instead of spending time with your team, you’re with me. I know I’m quite charming, but geez, (M/N), can a guy get some alone time?”

You scoffed and lightly punched at his chest. “Did we forget that you were the one joining me in the gym when you have your own in the tower? Copying my every move? What’s up with that?”

He shrugged, kneading nonchalantly at your sides. “Knew you’d be alone. Knew you were probably blaming yourself, moping around. Thought I would give you a little push.”

You shifted again, your hands keeping close to yourself as you couldn’t muster up the strength to complain about his wandering hands.

Or rather, find anything about his hands to complain about.

“Push as in to annoy me?”

“Well, I was supposed to be teaching you some things, but, uh… you were playing whack-a-mole with my head earlier.”

“That’s because—“ You sighed, dropping your head low in embarrassment. “Sorry. I don’t know. Everything started happening so fast and—“

“No, it’s fine. It gives me the perfect opportunity to introduce you my first lesson of the week.” He was sincere, smiling up at you, almost as if he had mistaken your brief fit of rage as a game of tag.

“What’s that?” You asked, meeting his eyes once again.

He pondered for a moment,, pursing his lips as he was lost within his thoughts before speaking again. “How To Communicate To Your Team 101.”

“How is that even going to—“

You felt a sudden press to your lips. A softness that awakened your five senses by tenfold, and a desire that you had kept vaulted in the back of your mind; now beginning to unlock to its freedom the longer Dick had his lips on you. It wasn’t right. No, it wasn’t like it was morally wrong, it was just…

You hesitated, conjuring up all the reasons in your head on why kissing Dick wasn’t a good idea. But it was futile. Everything had been resolved within this moment; the way he let you use him like a punching bag, the way he didn’t spare a single second to share his empathy for your concerns, the way he tended to your wounds days prior despite your brazen disregard to his kindness.

You were being selfish again, guarding yourself off with ice like you had done with the others. When in reality, you wanted him.

No, you desperately needed him.

You felt him open up his mouth, assuming he was about to speak, but you seized his breath with a slot of your lips, and kissed him. One hand came up to rest on his cheek, to finally feel the slight scruffs you had delivered on his skin, and you caressed tenderly across textured skin, to the slow rhythm of your lips, whispering, “Sorry… again.”

“Don’t be. Without it, you wouldn’t have been on my lap. And… I wouldn’t be kissing you right now.” Dick muttered, a satisfaction to his voice like he had gotten his wish fulfilled. He ran a lone hand up your back, then back down your spine, bone tingling once he repeated again under your hoodie, and gazed across your bare skin.

“What are you doing to me…” It was a genuine question, something you wished could be answered because you didn’t know yourself. And yet, you were scared of the answer if Dick was to ever give you one. It’d been a while since you felt like this, with someone else.

For the past few months, you hated him. Couldn’t stand the sight of him. And now, you feel like you couldn’t tear yourself apart from him. From the softness of his lips and to the warmth of his body; the longer you endured him, the more you realized you had been captivated by Dick all along.

“I don’t know, but… I like figuring you out.” Dick’s speech was slurred from dragging his lips down to your jaw, nipping at your sweaty skin. “Like how you push me away, but you can’t help but tolerate me whenever I’m in the room.” He breathed you in, sucking at the corner of the sharp bone. You pressed your head into his neck, silently letting him take you. “How you’d sneak glances at me and roll your eyes, only to keep on staring… and staring… until you hadn’t realized that I was looking back at you. Because you were too busy looking at me.”

Nothing but the truth came out Dick’s mouth. Remarkably candid, because you thought you were more covert about your conflicting feelings for him. It brought a bloom of heat to your cheeks, and you hid your face inside his neck, groaning because Dick began licking at your neck, and because you felt stripped, absolutely vulnerable.

“Dick…” Something was rising in your shorts, tightened around the center. Warm and pulsing, even when Dick had unzipped your hoodie and thrown them to the side. A chill was felt across your bare back, most likely a draft from the vent, and Dick held you closer, sandwiching the heat, and suddenly your erection, between his body and yours.

“I knew you never hated me.” There was something about your chest that he loved. How smooth it felt. A few hairs had grown at the center, raised from the feelings Dick was supplying to your body. They tickled his cheek whenever he rubbed himself against it until they were then flattened with a long, fluttering lick as he maintained eye contact with you. “Always right.”

The taste of your sweat was salty yet delicate on his tongue.

“Hate is a strong word...” Your fingers threaded through Dick’s locks, scrunching them into your fist when he started toying one nipple at a time with his tongue. The wet muscle flicked deftly, then he suckled, and then tugged, like he had known your body, like he had explored your body before. It was strange, how he knew the right thing to say, and the right thing to do.

Maybe he was ‘always right.’

“Whatever it is, it’s not stopping you right now.” His hands dropped to the waistband of your shorts and he pulled away from your swollen nubs. It was unwilling. You could see it in his eyes, the thirst to ruin, and it compelled him to bring another suck to your nipples, a few seconds more that almost pulled a dangerous whimper out of you before he ultimately paused. “Nor is it stopping me.”

With a gentle push on your chest, he leaned you back onto the mat while lifting your hips up, smoothly sliding your shorts off. They joined the pile containing your hoodie soon after, and then your briefs to top.

“R-right here? Aren’t there cameras or something…?” Your hands instinctively came down to cover yourself, cupping that embarrassing erection that Dick was thirsting for. The head of your cock peeked out from your clumsy gasp, and his hands instantly came up to pry your hands off.

Dick had that same look in his eyes when he was circling around you earlier. A rapacity blaring the pupil of his eyes. His piercing gaze alone kept your hands from coming up to cover yourself again. You knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against his strength.

“I doubt anyone is watching the gym… Private for a reason.” Your legs were then wrapped around his waist after pulling you by the ankles. His presence was commanding. You knew to keep your arms to your side, hands forbidden from obstructing the view of your hard, throbbing cock.

“No wonder you’re so stressed. Look how hard you are.” Dick muttered, seemingly speaking his inner thoughts because he was too distracted by the veins of your erection. Thick and pulsing as he wrapped a hand around you, and stroked, fascinated by the stretch of foreskin unfolding from the head of your cock when he pulled back, then rolling back up when he pulled forward. “This okay?”

“Fuck—Yeah… Feels good.” One arm was raised to wipe the cold sweat off your forehead, but it then rested against your forehead, shielding yourself from Dick’s gaze as he slowly pumped you back into breaking another round of sweat.

“No,” He paused, suddenly squeezing your foreskin over the tip of your swollen glans. You whimpered. Not only did he squeeze you tight, stripping you of a friction that you desperately had been needing more of. But Dick was teasing, threatening with the dull movement of his thumb as he pressed and rubbed into the fold of skin, polishing the head of your cock in a thick sheen of pre-cum as his grip would draw out a generous amount from beneath. “I want to see you properly. Look at me.”

You reluctantly met his demands, only after you felt the tip of his thumb prying into your slit. Was this supposed to be a punishment? Because you could’ve allowed it to go on for longer, knowing how much Dick marveled at how much pre-cum you were leaking out.

Your body felt hot, and your hands—they needed something to hold, something to grip. When Dick began resorting to quicker strokes to your cock, you were clawing at the mat at first, etching your presence with indentations of your nails as your warning came in vain. “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that, Dick—“

“Use your words I’m telling you.” He spat in his palm after a millisecond of a break before lubing your cock in his own spit and churning you into the tight, yet slippery friction of his fist. Dick’s gaze had been fixated on you, never once had it torn away to look at something else. Not even a peek at your cock deliciously fucking into his fist. Because in case you forgot, he liked figuring you out. “Gotta communicate with me.”

The stoicism you had worn with pride, only ever fragmenting from anger upon defeat; Dick had discovered another facet to its escalating submission, and it was delightful watching you unravel in real-time. The slick of his hands; one beating off your cock while the other massaging your balls; your expressions had given yourself away on how to break you down. Maybe it was because you had given up keeping up the facade. Or maybe it was because it was Dick, who has done more than enough to earn your trust, that you found yourself nearly crumbling.

He had studied you, his hands continuing to wander, explore every part of you while silently cataloging the right spots to make you crack. You were close, hanging off the edge with one hand, nails dulling over a cliff as you desperately prevented gravity from pulling you down under. When his hand had left your balls in favor of suddenly pushing a finger inside of your tight hole, Dick knew you had completely submitted.

Your body was writhing, hips desperately thrusting in the air despite Dick pinning them down to properly stretch your hole and fill you up with another finger, and another. Your expressions were ravishing, conflicted with pleasure and tension, and your mouth opened to politely tell Dick to stop, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to utter the demand. Instead, all that came out of your mouth was a whimper of his name, a stutter that rang delectably in Dick’s ears when he interrupted you with a deep push of his fingers, curling and then pumping in and out of you, and another whimper would secure the deft removal of the rest of his shorts and briefs. All because he couldn’t contain himself anymore.

He had absolutely no right to teach you about control, for the reason that he was on the brink of losing it himself. You looked absolutely wrecked, all from the stubborn grip around your cock, the tight fit of his fingers, and Dick couldn’t imagine what you’d look like if he was in you, his thick cock fucking you, making love to you.

“Seriously, Dick—I’m about to—“

You couldn’t help it. Dick��s demand to control yourself was absolutely absurd with his reign on your body. The wet, sticky sound his spit made as Dick’s fist was being screwed by your pulsing cock drove you nuts. And then came the view of Dick’s thick cock, throbbing, pre-cum dripping heavily off of his swollen head as he watched you untouched, begging to be touched. You swore you almost surrendered had it not been for his wrist slowing down, a delicacy you begged prior, but now desperately wanted to vanish.

“God, you know I always loved it whenever you accidentally let a smile slip. But this? You’re so beautiful like this, (M/N).” He paused despite your silent pleas for him to otherwise. Though, all was forgiven when he leaned forward to kiss you on the lips. Sweet and bountiful like his words had made you feel, and you kissed him right back, an eagerness compared to his own movements, but then gratefully countered with an impatient swipe at your crack. His cock, plump and heavy, then wet and sticky as he smeared his pre-cum over your hole. Your legs remained wrapped around his hips, but Dick pushed his body weight forward until they folded with your knees touching your chest, his cock dangerously pressing at your entrance.

Dick spat in his palm again, reaching down to coat himself in the sticky layer of spit, and you felt him press. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, anticipating with an accelerating drum of your heart as he teased, slicking your pucker with the gentle, smooth circling of his tip.

“Please… I need it.” You had a gentle grasp around his nape, pulling him down until his forehead rested against yours. You’ve never seen him like this, so up-close and intimate. A mole, a freckle on his face that you’d never noticed, and you instantly yearned for what could’ve been all this time, had it not been for your stubbornness.

“What do you need? You need me inside of you?” Dick clarified against your lips, a whisper into your mouth as you parted them open to welcome his tongue. Hot and heavy, you let your tongue wrap around his for a tingling moment before pulling away, a string of spit webbing a path between your lips and his. “Use your words.”

“Need your cock, need you… Need everything. As long as it’s you.” You marveled at Dick, drunk off of the mutual endearment you have for each other. He regarded you with a warm smile, followed by a dazzling glint within his gaze, then relayed the turn of his mouth to yours with another kiss, a gentle warning, before Dick pushed his hips forward and slipped his cock inside of you.

“Good boy.”

“O-oh, fuck.”

Your body tensed as soon as you took the first inhale of breath since he’d breached you, sharp and abrupt, just like the pain that had jolted the muscles in your body to squeeze around him. You were playing defense, impeding the foreign introduction inside of your body with a clamp, yet Dick resisted. Rather, he thrived on your strain, adoring the suctioning feeling of his cock as if you were conflicted about inviting him in or pushing him out. It didn’t take much to figure out that it was the former. During the meantime you were adjusting to his cock, Dick was thrusting the few inches that had slid inside of you. Small and short movements to aid in your stretch, and then eventual pleasure as he gradually pushed himself deeper until you’d blossom completely open for him, like a bud in the Spring.

“Fuck, you’re so tight… So good, your ass is so good.” He was satisfied with half of his cock inside of you, rocking into you slowly until you felt comfortable enough to have him harder, faster. Till then, it was perfect like this. Breathing in your whimpers, holding your face like it was the last vestige of your sanity, before kissing you again, sweet on the mouth, tender with your tongue, to hold a fragment of your sanity within him and sealing it where no one could ever take it from him.

“T-too big, Dick—Fuck…” You whimpered again, closing your eyes from the uncomfortable detection of already feeling completely full, yet you and Dick both knew it wasn’t a complaint. Rather, it was a simple observation that had rendered you speechless, an inkling you’d disappoint Dick for not being able to take him properly, to not let him in like you had done for all these months.

“You’re doing great, baby. Doing so good… You can take it, I know you can.” His words were so warm, so kind, so gentle in your ear, low and sinking in your neck as he marked you as his with constant licks and kisses, and immediately, he dialed up your confidence by tenfold. You felt yourself relaxing, the tension in your body melting the longer he rocked half of his cock into you.

Just breathe. Breathe. You found it helpful following Dick’s breathing pattern, exhaling when he pulled out, inhaling when he pushed in, and gradually, you felt yourself opening up for him, taking him in longer strides, with little breaks, faster, harder, until you felt thoroughly plugged when he pushed once more to cork his cock inside of you, balls-deep.

“S-shit, Dick—Fuck—So good—“

Dick trembled with a moan sinking into the underside of your jaw. His cock had never felt so wanted, so warm in another’s body. You took him in without a single complaint, and it was a spectacle, an absolute wonder when Dick leaned back to watch himself completely unsheathe out of you like a dagger out of its scabbard.

“Look at that… Fucking beautiful.” Your hole was gaped open with the diameter matching the girth of Dick’s cock. Blinking, puckering desperately as it painfully endured the loss of heat, the loss of his desire. You’d never felt so exposed, completely powerless as Dick had you bending your legs further back with one hand, and the other spreading your cheeks apart to further see how much more you could stretch.

The color of your flesh was enthralling, and if the marks on your neck had not been telling that you were Dick’s; he pressed a kiss to your pucker, gentle nibbling and licking at the puffy rim before abruptly spitting inside of you, and another for good measure, the glorious designation would remind you now.

“Dick—No more, I need you, please—“ You reached down to spread your pucker with the spit dribbling out of you using two fingers, then pulled back to taste him, sucking on them before your craving for Dick would return with a vengeance, body-writhing and mind-numbingly so.

“Tell me. What do you need, hm?” Dick tapped his cock against your hole. The plump head slid smooth over the spit-covered flesh, mixing with his pre-cum, while he watched you with a grin, each swipe of his cock taunting to pull completely away unless you spoke.

“Need you. Inside of me. Fucking me. Holding me. Kissing me. Touching. I don’t know—Please, please. Just need you.” Your wishes were long-winded, but sincere. The gaze you had given him, an imploring look that Dick would take a moment to hold for a little longer despite your begging. Cherishing it, not knowing if this would be a fluke you’d later regret down the line, but in the end, all that mattered was that you let your guards down at the mercy of Dick’s guidance. Then utterly defenseless, when he gave into your wishes, a chaste kiss to your lips while doing so, and pushed himself deep inside of you with one smooth thrust.

You stiffened in Dick’s arms when they slipped around you, digging your nails into his skin. Squeezing his waist with your legs, you held onto him when he pushed the rest of his body weight over you, bending you further while keeping his lips connected to yours. He was stabilized on the tip of his toes, thrusting into, past, and against your inner muscles all at once. You clenched around his cockhead, the pleasure unbearable to resist as each dip of his hip successfully knocked a gasp from your mouth.

“So good, so tight like this…” Dick’s cock was in heaven, burying you deep until his heavy balls pressed flushed to your taint. He would stay motionless whenever he did; to catch up on his breath, to draw out his nearing high for a little longer, and to feel you, luxuriate in the warmth of your walls squeezing him tight, pulsing with dilemma, and ultimately refusing to let go. “Think I can come just like this, you squeezing my cock…”

He looked down at your face, a brief check-up. Your lips moved as if you were about to say something, but no sound came out. Only a stutter of a gasp, little sounds that Dick found incredibly magnetic, to which he found increasingly difficult to keep his lips off of you. He failed with little effort on his end, in hopes to steal those tiny sounds and keep it for himself.

Your pupils were blown when they weren’t rolling back from the smallest movement of Dick’s hips. In addition, with your lips swollen and lids heavy, you gazed up at Dick like he had saved your life, as if he had guided you towards a better place. Your life seemingly were in his hands as he held your cheeks and kissed you once more. Sweet again, rocking into you steadily, sweat sticking his skin to yours.

And maybe he did.

“Say something. I want to hear you.” A merciful demand upon your lips. You were trembling, barely swallowing down moans while Dick continuously impaled you with his cock—up into you now, when Dick leaned back until he was sitting up, and brought you back onto his lap like before, pushing your hips towards the rate of his thrusts.

Mesmerized by Dick, your mouth parted open and your throat immediately began emptying itself of all the harbored moans and groans that you had been holding hostage. “F-fuck me, keep fucking me. L-like that. No—Harder, harder—“ They rattled in volume, bouncing in sync with the way your ass had been doing against Dick’s cock, and then louder, because your marvelous sounds emerged an addiction out of Dick.

Sweet Jesus. He couldn’t stop. Watching the desire in your beautiful features, hearing your pleas reflect your want, stroking your cock awaiting for its release, marking every flesh of your skin his mouth had come in contact with. At the level of intimacy; from the pull of Dick’s hair, the sloppy, open-mouthed kisses you two shared, and the mutual passion you had for each other; you no longer felt like his disciple, but rather, an equal to Dick’s being—a derivative blessing, that would course correct each other’s life.

Your hands could barely hold onto his shoulders, but you worked with your strength, the slip of his skin, and locked your hands around his nape. Forehead to forehead, you and Dick breathed moans into each other, heavy and thick with yearning as you two pressed close, stuck to each other like glue. He cataloged the tiniest details on how your face contorted with pleasure; the scrunch of your nose, the roll of your eyes, the part of your lips. Your fist tightened around your cock, pumping it rapidly to the pace of Dick’s thrusts, churning it until your biceps had distractingly flared with veins.

You did the same. You watched Dick’s mouth agape with rapture. The scrunch of his brows when he fucked into you faster and to the root. The clench of his jaw when you squeezed tight around him, suctioning his cock until he sounded delirious with pleasure. It was beautiful. He was beautiful, and you knew he found you beautiful as well, the beautiful loss of reality from the mutual pleasure, and that was all it took to make you spill your load without a single warning.

You smashed a guttural groan to his lips and unraveled your fingers, leaning your body back to let your cock release where it pleased to afterward. “Oh, fuck—“

“Holy shit.”

Thick shots rained on Dick’s sweaty body. Three spurts to the center of his chiseled chest, and then another four splashing high in the air when Dick powered up on the sight of your cum alone, and drilled you harder, your cock dribbling in cum as he did so. His nails dug into your ass cheeks, spreading them apart, then cushioning them back around his cock to somehow press your walls against every vein pulsing through the thick of his erection.

Dick fucked you like you’d begged him to. Long, strong thrusts, to the brim on each stroke, undoubtedly hitting your prostate at every turn from the way you would jolt forward with widened, rattling, yet blissful eyes. A sight Dick would have forever ingrained into his memory, because you were officially, utterly, and completely wrecked.

It was heaven. The crown of Dick’s cock sliding over the spot, the depth of his cock rendering you immobile and dazed. Again, he’d repeat. A new addiction, surging powerfully through his veins. You let out a sob.

Again. You squeezed your eyes shut.

Again. You dug your nails into his shoulders.

And again. Dick smacked your ass at the delirious state he was in. He had completely breached inside of you, explored every inch of your hole with the circle of his hips. A thrust. A slam. A rut. He had traversed through every option to dismantle you, and like clockwork, your snug hole all but sucked on his cock, begging for him to come inside.

He couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Baby, baby…” Dick’s large hand smothered his warmth around your throat. You could feel the callous in his palm, a gentle abrasion to your smooth skin, and he rubbed your seed all over your body, then his. He fucked harder to the sight of the sticky sheen layering your body. The smell of musk. The stick to his hands. Filthy. Your body and his were filthy together. Filthier, when pleasure burst from the base of his shaft, and in turn, flooded your insides with a large load. He moaned, and you arched into him, into the stick of his body, anticipating for the rupture of your doing.

Your cock throbbed once, straining forward with its swollen head aiming towards the ceiling, and you spat thick shots of white seed into the air, eventually course-correcting to land on your body and Dick’s.

It was wonderful. You could feel Dick’s cock pulse as his seed rushed up the shaft and buried you deep into your guts with thick and heavy shots. Upon impulse, you squeezed as well, clamping around the peak of DIck’s orgasm until it must have crested with the stillness of his breath. “Don’t pull out.”

“Wasn’t planning on it…”

If he hadn’t thought it enough, you were beautiful, he was keen on calling it a mantra because it meant that he was still here, on this very earth, breathing and witnessing your very existence. Your body was weakened, barely mustering the strength to hold your chest up without the aid of Dick’s arms around you. Limp, after your second orgasm. All of you, you were so beautiful. From your rim hugging the base of your cock, your softening cock dripping, your swollen nipples, the smooth planes of your cum-stained chest, and parted lips. You were a banquet to Dick’s eyes, a feast that could muster up another around to have at you, to have you completely devoured if he had really wanted to.

But no, this was perfect. Watching you in silence, surveying up at you while you peered down at him, panting, breathing slow, in a case of wonder of how one could have such an effect on him without a morsel of effort.

“So… lessons? You always do this to new recruits?”

“Only if they absolutely suck at their role.” An exhaustion in his smile, you wanted to capture it in between your lips, and replenish him with gratitude.

“Hey— Asshole…” You muttered, a gentle knock to his chest, to which he laughed off, and then held on, to pull you in for a blissful kiss.

With the way you fit into his arms as if you’d always been meant to be there, warm where he was cold, and cold where you were warm, he knew he didn’t need his question answered.

“Kidding. Let’s just say… it was curated for a special someone. And hopefully, they liked it as much as I liked teaching it.”

“I have a good feeling that they did.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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seductivebac0n · 7 days

Text

New Lyrics tonight

Charles Leclerc x Male Reader

Summary - Bonding over music

Charles has been training at the track all day. Charles and Carlos are on the race track racing each other. After the race, they didn't agree on who beat who. Charles sits down to take a break and he checks his phone. He saw your text and he started to smile and he started to text you back. He doesn't like to text all the time but with you is an expectation. Carlos sits next to Charles and they begin to talk then Carlos mentions you.

“It’s sad that Y/N is not in the band anymore,” Carlos said.

“What are you talking about?” Charles asked.

Carlos took out his phone and showed him the article. You were kicked out of your band and you didn't tell Charles about it.

“Y/N didn't tell me,” Charles said.

“You should talk to him” Carlos said.

“I will,” Charles said.

You were in the band for many years. You met Charles when his friends took him to see the band perform. His friends knew the leader singer then you met Charles through them. You didn't know what was Formula 1 or that he was a famous driver. The more you got to know Charles, then you started to get into Formula 1. You moved in with Charles in Monaco and the relationship got serious fast from the start. The relationship is a secret for many reasons.

Hours later, Charles finished training and he went home. He noticed a lot of crumpled papers on the floor and he walked toward you. He gives you a peck on the lips and he sits next to you.

“Y/N, what happened with the band? Carlos told me that you left the band” Charles said

“I was kicked out of the band I was in since the beginning. The new manager is an asshole and everyone is agreeing to sing crappy music which we always hated” You sighed

“Why you didn't tell me, Y/N?” Charles asked

“The race started and you were training a lot. I didn't want to ruin your focus, that's why I didn't say anything” You said

“You miss the band?” Charles asked

“No, because it was going in a direction I didn't like,” You said

“I’m sorry I wasn't there when you needed me,” Charles said

You kiss him on the lips and he starts to kiss you back.

“I’m not mad, Charles,” You said.

“You can make your own music and your own songs” Charles smiled.

“Yeah, I can. I was trying to write music but I kept getting stuck” You said

He kissed you again then he grabbed your hand.

“You need a break,” Charles said

He kissed your forehead. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest. You just cuddle with him on the couch and he listens to you talk about your solo project. Later, he took a shower and put on pajamas then you watched Charles make dinner for you. You decided to help him cook and he gave you encouragement not to give up on your music.

——

In the middle of the night, you and Charles couldn't sleep. You and Charles head to the living room and he starts to play the piano and you start to sing while writing down the lyrics. You grab your acoustic guitar and he continues to play the piano.

✫ ✯ ✬ ✯

You come home and Charles grabs Your hand, he takes you toward the piano.

“What is it?” You asked.

You sit down next to him.

“In your song, there should be soft music playing then you start to Sing. It will go like this” Charles Said.

He starts to play the piano and you just listen. Sometimes he would teach you how to play the piano.

“That was great. And I like your idea” You smiled.

“I thought you wouldn't like it,” Charles said.

You kissed him on the lips.

“I really do like it” You smiled.

You grab your notebook and you change the lyrics. He tells you where to stop then sing again then you start to sing and you follow his lead.

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seductivebac0n · 1 month

Text

okay like 2 months ago, I put out this moodboard, and @evans-dejong replied to it, and im gonna be honest that kind of inspired this whole fic

carlos sainz x male!royal!reader

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

carlos sainz x royal!reader

2022 Spanish Grand Prix

“AND George Russell has locked up at the final chicane and Carlos Sainz sails on through BRINGING HIM ONTO THE PODIUM OF HIS HOME RACE ON THE LAST LAP OF THE SPANISH GRAND PRIX. AND WHAT A RACE THAT WAS. Max Verstappen crossed the finish line first, followed by his teammate Sergio Perez, and rounding out the podium we have Carlos Sainz for ferrari.”

It had been a hard race, Carlos spinning in the first 8 laps. But he’d done a very good recovery drive, getting up to the podium.

Y/N couldn’t help but clap his hands as he saw a ferrari and a spanish driver on the podium from the back of the Ferrari garage. He saw himself on the screens, and flashed a winning smile. His mum looked at him with exasperated fondness as he hopped around waiting for the drivers to get on the podium, so she could hand the trophies over. He’d been looking forward to it all weekend, the previous highlight being handing off the pole position award to the other ferrari driver.

“And now to present the trophies to the drivers on the podium, we have Crown Prince Y/N, representing the Spanish Royal Family.”

Y/N could almost feel his hands shaking as he picked up the 3rd place trophy and prepared to hand it over. He ran himself through what he was supposed to do

‘Pick up the trophy, display it to the cameras, don’t drop it, first to the person closest, they’re 3rd place, hopefully you’ve picked up the correct trophy Y/N, then as you’re handing it over, shake their hand, congratulate the spaniard, pose for a photo handing over the trophy, and then walk back. Repeat for 2nd place, they’re the one furthest away, not a Spaniard, repeat for team, it’s the mechanic who looks hella awkward on the really small podium, and finally do it for 1st. Then get out of the way before they start spraying champagne.’

And it almost entirely went to plan. He had nearly kissed the Spanish driver on the podium, because damn he was hot. But otherwise it had gone to plan.

Well, until, while trying to get out of the way and completing his task, he had gotten sprayed on the back of his new shirt. Damn.

He heard the cheers and yelling stop as everyone realised that he had been hit. Y/N snickered in his head at the thought that people were scared of him, worried that because he’d been hit by some champagne, that everyone would be executed. Instead he laughed it off, grabbed Carlos’ bottle and took a chug before wandering off the podium, laughing at the ruined shirt. His mother chastised him and fussed over him as he walked away laughing.

The Spanish ferrari driver was hot, sue him.

---

2022 Silverstone

“AND IN HIS 150TH RACE, CARLOS SAINZ WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX. HIS FIRST VICTORY IN F1”

Y/N could hear the cheers, the announcement was a little blurred as he hugged Carlos O, Carlos’ cousin and manager, after waving the spanish flag through a gap in the fence, yelling and cheering over the noise of the engines. There wasn’t a lot of celebration in the garage, as Charles, who was contending for the championship, had had a horrible race, but who cared? Carlos had won, at least Red Bull hadn’t won, they were still contending for the championship.

“And what a day for Ferrari, but they won with the wrong car!” Ted shouted into his microphone as the celebrations kicked on.

“I’m sorry?”

“Uhh, sorry to everyone at home we now have Crown Prince Y/N from the Spanish Royal Family. Now Your Royal Highness, what did you say?”

“Well first, my title is Prince of Asturias. Not this ‘Your Royal Highness’ bullshit that you’re trying to lower my status to…”

“Sorry, language for the kids at home.”

“Oh, says you, Ted Kravitz. Hi Kids, my name is Crown Prince Y/N, or the Prince of Asturias, and I’m going to give you a… what’s the word…unbiased view of the grand prix today. Charles and Max were struggling today. Then there was a safety car, and Carlos was given a better strategy. Now, keep in mind kids, this was because Charles was not having a great day. Then Carlos was once again screwed over by Ferrari strategists, however for once in his life he stood up for himself, and made himself a good strategy and won himself the race. His first race win, after 150 race starts. There is no wrong driver to win with for Ferrari, and Carlos deserved that win as much as Charles did. Thanks Tommy.”

“It’s Ted…”

Y/N waited in Carlos’ driver room for him to arrive back from the media. Carlos meanwhile had been told by his cousin that Y/N was waiting for him, and tried to pass off his impatience as excitement over the win. He had barely seen Y/N since the win, being celebrated with his team, but he had spotted him on Carlos O and Carlos Sr. shoulders, cheering with the other Ferrari engineers, and butchering his own national anthem, which was always fun to watch. But he hadn’t seen him properly, been able to hold him and scream and kiss him.

And he couldn’t wait for that.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he reached the door of his driver room. He could sense Y/N behind that door, actually he could hear him, chatting to what he assumed were his younger sisters and parents.

He slowly opened the door, pushing it with his hips as his hands held his water bottle and his trophy.

He watched for a second, not wanting to disturb Y/N, especially if he was saying something royal that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

Y/N was lying on his stomach on the massage bed, his feet hanging off the end as he had propped his phone up against the wall. His feet were kicked up in the air, swinging backwards and forwards, as his head, which he was holding up by his hands, was bopping side to side as he talked to his family.

“Yeah, so just waiting for him to finish his post race debriefs and media and then he’ll be here soon, and I’ll hang up then, I don't want to scare Leonor again. By the way, Leo, how’s Gavi going? Feel like the last I heard was from some media article about how he wanted to focus on football and didn’t want a girlfriend distracting him, but I'm sure you’ve managed to persuade him otherwise…”

While Y/N was teasing his younger sister, he was cut off by his (quite unmanly) screams as Carlos grabbed him from behind and hugged him to his chest, swinging him back and forth.

Once he had reassured both his family and the bodyguards who had burst into the room with their guns drawn that he was fine and Carlos had just scared him, he hung up the facetime call and snuggled in with Carlos on the small massage table, and admired the trophy.

“It’s pretty…” his hand hovered over all the details “like you mi amor.”

“...huh, most people would describe me as handsome rather than pretty, mi vida”

“Not me, you’re my pretty boy.”

---

Silverstone 2023

“Hello! You must be Lando!” Y/N walked towards the Mclaren boy and gave him a hug.

“You're the crown prince of Spain.”

“Wow, he’s observant eh Chilli?”

“Mate, i mean this in the nicest way possible, how the fuck did you manage to bag the crown prince of spain?”

“I think the real question you should be asking is how I managed to bag the most attractive f1 driver?”

“Have you seen Fernando?”

“Good point. The most attractive Spanish f1… no no, that doesn’t work. Uhhhh, the second most attractive F1 driver.”

“what?”

"nothing darling, good luck for your race Lando and nice to meet you!"

---

Singapore 2023

“AND RUSSELL IS IN THE WALL. GEORGE RUSSELL IS IN THE WALL AND CARLOS SAINZ IS GOING TO TAKE VICTORY FOR THE SECOND TIME IN AMAZING CIRCUMSTANCES. SO FAR THE ONLY NON RED BULL DRIVER TO WIN A RACE THIS YEAR”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Y/N couldn’t help screaming through the ferrari garage as the entire ferrari garage erupted as Carlos crossed the line first. His bodyguards were clearly trying to reach him, but he didn’t care as he gave a massive hug to every mechanic and an even bigger one to Fred as he kept screaming his head off.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD YES! VAMOS YES!”

He was gonna lose it. Carlos had won a race. And this one for so many more reasons felt better than the Silverstone win. No disputes about team orders or who was the better driver.

Carlos had done it all on merit.

Once again he was hoisted up on the Carlos’ shoulders to horribly butcher his own national anthem. He could see his bodyguards trying to push through the throng of mechanics, but the mechanics were pushing back equally as hard. Well if his bodyguards couldn’t get through a crowd of overexcited mechanics, then maybe that was a sign he needed new bodyguards. First one’s who could get through a crowd when necessary, but also ones who understood that he could do what he wanted. He saw the cameras, flicking between the 2 of them singing to each other horribly, but he didn’t care. So what if these photos and videos were all over the tabloids tomorrow.

Tonight was their night.

And nothing could change that.

nothing.

---

Spain 2024

Y/N walked onto the podium again, remembering how 2 years ago he had walked onto this stage and met the love of his life at that time.

Except this time, he was standing with the spanish flag around his shoulders, on the P1 spot, instead of the P3 spot as he was 2 years ago. His smile was bigger, and the cheers were louder, especially with Fernando Alonso in P2.

As Y/N handed off the P3 trophy to a grumpy Max Verstappen, a P2 trophy to an elated Fernando Alonso, who gave him a massive hug and shake as they jumped up and down. Very different from 2 years ago.

And after giving a constructors trophy to a confused team member, finally it was Carlos’ turn. Y/N smiled as he handed over the trophy, adoring the goofy grin on his face. He also hugged him, and Y/N only cringed slightly at the sweat that was now on his suit.

It’s okay. He was never expected to wear this suit again.

He barely got out of the spray zone before the champagne spraying had begun. At least as he thought.

He let out a very unroyal scream as he felt the cold champagne trickle down his back, turning around to the silence with Fernando having a cheeky grin on his face (this seems hella clunky). The rest of the paddock and the podium was frozen, as if worried that he was going to order Fernando’s execution. Instead, he held his hand out, as his mother passed him a bottle of champagne that he proceeded to spray straight in Fernando’s face.

And then as the champagne started to drain, Carlos leaned over and kissed Y/N square on the lips. First official show of affection, and as Carlos pulled away and flashed the cheeky grin at Y/N, he thought about how the royal PR people would be scrambling to confirm that yes, Carlos was courting the crown prince of Spain.

But he didn’t care

So he leaned in and kissed him again.

Y/N walked onto the podium again, remembering how 2 years ago he had walked onto this stage and met the love of his life at that time.

As Y/N handed off the P3 trophy to a grumpy Max Verstappen, a P2 trophy to an elated Fernando Alonso, who gave him a massive hug and shake as they jumped up and down. Very different from 2 years ago.

It’s okay. He was never expected to wear this suit again.

He barely got out of the spray zone before the champagne spraying had begun. At least as he thought.

But he didn’t care

So he leaned in and kissed him again.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m

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seductivebac0n · 1 month

Text

okay like 2 months ago, I put out this moodboard, and @evans-dejong replied to it, and im gonna be honest that kind of inspired this whole fic

carlos sainz x male!royal!reader

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

carlos sainz x royal!reader

2022 Spanish Grand Prix

It had been a hard race, Carlos spinning in the first 8 laps. But he’d done a very good recovery drive, getting up to the podium.

“And now to present the trophies to the drivers on the podium, we have Crown Prince Y/N, representing the Spanish Royal Family.”

Y/N could almost feel his hands shaking as he picked up the 3rd place trophy and prepared to hand it over. He ran himself through what he was supposed to do

And it almost entirely went to plan. He had nearly kissed the Spanish driver on the podium, because damn he was hot. But otherwise it had gone to plan.

Well, until, while trying to get out of the way and completing his task, he had gotten sprayed on the back of his new shirt. Damn.

The Spanish ferrari driver was hot, sue him.

---

2022 Silverstone

“AND IN HIS 150TH RACE, CARLOS SAINZ WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX. HIS FIRST VICTORY IN F1”

“And what a day for Ferrari, but they won with the wrong car!” Ted shouted into his microphone as the celebrations kicked on.

“I’m sorry?”

“Uhh, sorry to everyone at home we now have Crown Prince Y/N from the Spanish Royal Family. Now Your Royal Highness, what did you say?”

“Well first, my title is Prince of Asturias. Not this ‘Your Royal Highness’ bullshit that you’re trying to lower my status to…”

“Sorry, language for the kids at home.”

“It’s Ted…”

And he couldn’t wait for that.

He slowly opened the door, pushing it with his hips as his hands held his water bottle and his trophy.

He watched for a second, not wanting to disturb Y/N, especially if he was saying something royal that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

While Y/N was teasing his younger sister, he was cut off by his (quite unmanly) screams as Carlos grabbed him from behind and hugged him to his chest, swinging him back and forth.

“It’s pretty…” his hand hovered over all the details “like you mi amor.”

“...huh, most people would describe me as handsome rather than pretty, mi vida”

“Not me, you’re my pretty boy.”

---

Silverstone 2023

“Hello! You must be Lando!” Y/N walked towards the Mclaren boy and gave him a hug.

“You're the crown prince of Spain.”

“Wow, he’s observant eh Chilli?”

“Mate, i mean this in the nicest way possible, how the fuck did you manage to bag the crown prince of spain?”

“I think the real question you should be asking is how I managed to bag the most attractive f1 driver?”

“Have you seen Fernando?”

“Good point. The most attractive Spanish f1… no no, that doesn’t work. Uhhhh, the second most attractive F1 driver.”

“what?”

"nothing darling, good luck for your race Lando and nice to meet you!"

---

Singapore 2023

“OH MY FUCKING GOD YES! VAMOS YES!”

He was gonna lose it. Carlos had won a race. And this one for so many more reasons felt better than the Silverstone win. No disputes about team orders or who was the better driver.

Carlos had done it all on merit.

Tonight was their night.

And nothing could change that.

nothing.

---

Spain 2024

Y/N walked onto the podium again, remembering how 2 years ago he had walked onto this stage and met the love of his life at that time.

As Y/N handed off the P3 trophy to a grumpy Max Verstappen, a P2 trophy to an elated Fernando Alonso, who gave him a massive hug and shake as they jumped up and down. Very different from 2 years ago.

It’s okay. He was never expected to wear this suit again.

He barely got out of the spray zone before the champagne spraying had begun. At least as he thought.

But he didn’t care

So he leaned in and kissed him again.

Y/N walked onto the podium again, remembering how 2 years ago he had walked onto this stage and met the love of his life at that time.

As Y/N handed off the P3 trophy to a grumpy Max Verstappen, a P2 trophy to an elated Fernando Alonso, who gave him a massive hug and shake as they jumped up and down. Very different from 2 years ago.

It’s okay. He was never expected to wear this suit again.

He barely got out of the spray zone before the champagne spraying had begun. At least as he thought.

But he didn’t care

So he leaned in and kissed him again.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m

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seductivebac0n · 1 month

Note

hi lovely !! i loved your angsty fic with charles. i wondering if you could write a charles x reader based off the the song casual by chappell roan xx

much love

Is it casual now? ⸺ CL¹⁶ ୨୧

you’ve always wanted for it to be more, for it to be a serious relationship. you’ve dreamt of it, but it may be far from ever being serious. it seems like it’ll always just be labeled as ‘casual’.

[ warnings ! ] : gn reader, angst-ish ??, use of y/n like once not proofread

[ a/n ] : words cannot describe how HAPPY I was when I got this req omg, I was giggling n kicking my feet !! thank u sm for this req, I had so much fun writing this !! I hope you like it <33 I’m so sorry if it’s too short (reblogs very much appreciated !!)

⸺ angst under the cut

“remember baby, no attachment.”

his words would ring in your head, loud and clear. and you’d prefer to forget them, you’d very much prefer so. you would’ve much preferred that he never said those words at all, even.

you thought you’ve hit the jackpot, managing to even befriend the monegasque. he was a popular man, a good looking one at that— surrounded with women everywhere he went.

you felt foolish for thinking that the relationship would last, you felt foolish for thinking that he would think of you better. for thinking that he’d consider you as someone he couldn’t lose.

forming a relationship with Charles wasn’t exactly easy. you didn’t know what the two of you were. friends? partners? you were confused, to say the least. you’re still holding onto the relationship, despite hearing so many rumors— that you were just a ‘friend that he bangs on the couch’.

you’d remind yourself every day, every night that the two of you were never together, and never will be. we’re not together, you tried to remind yourself whenever you two kissed, and it hurt, it hurt knowing you weren’t his first priority. you would let the words bounce in your mind as he kissed your cheek, and your forehead occasionally— we’re not together, you’d remind.

and yet, he’ll still brag you to his friends at the pier, he’ll still take care of your needs, eating you out like a starved man in the passenger seat. is it really casual now?

he talks about you to his mom, and you would’ve taken that as a good sign, as his mom invited you to her house on Long Beach— but it pains you knowing that he’s not even committed to the relationship, that’s he’s not even seeking for it. he knows that he’s just using you, and he expects you to do the same— but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. it pains you knowing that he’s talking about you to his mom only for the sake of keeping her happy that her son finally ‘found’ someone.

you’d find yourself dreaming about the two of you, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the two of you would have a shared apartment, decorating it accordingly together— make it feel like home.

and now the two of you are making out on the couch, your arms looped around his neck— his lips pressing onto yours, but his lips tasted bitter. feeling his body pressed against yours made you feel uncomfortable.

he trails down sloppy kisses to your neck, his hands roaming all over your body, finding their way to your hips.

you knew what would happen. the two of you would share an intimate moment, but as soon as it’s over— the two of you a panting and sweaty mess, it always will be “no attachment”.

and so before this would escalate any further, before you would be left with your heart aching— you mustered up the courage to ask him the question.

“..what are we?” you whispered, watching nervously as he lifts his head from your neck to look at you, his eyebrows raised in confusion and surprise on the sudden question.

“what?”

“you heard me.” you sighed, pulling your arms away from his neck, shifting slightly on the couch. the silence was deafening, you needed a answer.

“please. what’s our relationship?”

“you know what it is, y/n.” he sighs quietly, his hand cupping your face— his thumb caressing your cheek, a weak and bitter attempt to comfort you.

“no attachment, baby. it’s casual.”

“then get off of me.”

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seductivebac0n · 1 month

Note

Hello, I saw that your requests are open so I wanted to ask if you could please write something with Charles Leclerc and reader based on the song Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter 👀

Talkin’ nonsense ⸺ CL¹⁶ ୨୧

the first few days of your relationship has been amazing. safe to say you consider yourself as one of the luckiest women on earth to manage to pull the monegasque, and maayybe he’s the only thing currently filling your thoughts to the point he’s got you talking nonsense.

[ warnings ! ] : gn reader, very short , poorly written , cliche writing

[ a/n ] : I’m so sorry if this look so long omg !! I was trying to think of a good plot for this, and I settled w the 'first few weeks of your relationship' w Charles ajjaja !! turned out to be more of a one shot, but I hope you like it !! <3 (reblogs very much appreciated!)

⸺ fluff under the cut

you wish that he was the only person in your contacts, with nobody else— just him. you enjoyed his company, and so when he confessed to you, you were overjoyed.

you were tempted to just change his contact to “don’t leave me alone”, to put all of your other contacts to archived and so you would only get notifications from charles.

okay maybe not all of your contacts, since it’d be crazy to put charles over your family, but it was still a tempting thing to do.

you’ve lost count to the times you ranted to your best friend about charles. you wouldn’t call yourself obsessed, but with a man like charles? you were proud as fuck, of course you would brag him to your friends.

and oh how he treats you so well. he treats you like a princess, no— a queen. you always thought that you were lucky to manage to pull the monegasque.

when he first came over to your place to watch a movie together, your tongue went numb— you stuttered constantly, and I mean you couldn’t help yourself,

not with the way he’s so close to you.

he finds it cute, how you got all nervous and flustered when he got slightly closer to you— it amused him, really.

he’s everything you could possibly ask for, you don’t want no one else— you we’re completely enamored by him, you were in too deep already, and you knew it.

you couldn't help but start to think about nonsense when you look at him, couldn't help the cartwheels in your stomach whenever he walks in.

and when he has his arm wrapped around you? oh, it's like a dream come true— it just feels so good, you just had to jump the octave.

ever since he confessed to you and became your boyfriend, you don't even know if you've ever had a ex. the thought of charles himself made any other thoughts filling your head gone, let alone your ex, who was your ex anyways? you couldn't recall anything about him when charles is engraved in your head.

you could never find your cool around charles, always stumbling over your words and stuttering, the effect he has on you is actually concerning sometimes, you must've lost it..

you don't even know anymore, talking nonsense to charles all around the clock, hoping nobody would knock on the door of your room and interrupt the two of you.

you're talking about the opposite of soft, talking about wild, WILD, thoughts.

he manages (and has) to keep up, knowing you've got some young energy, and oh he's prepared, all right. he's sat on your bed, listening to you carefully about your thoughts, occasionally chuckling.

"how do you even do this to me?? it's insane.." you murmured, shifting on your spot of the bed, holding your pillow a little tighter.

"mm, guess I just have that effect." he grins, his dimples apperaing.

"yeah, you do and it's very concerning."

"concerning? well that's not very good, eh?"

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seductivebac0n · 1 month

Text

Time, wondrous time ⸺ CL¹⁶ ୨୧

meeting a boy and falling in love and giggling and kicking your feet at the thought of him was something you swore you’d never do, but maybe with Charles you wouldn’t mind.

[ warnings ! ] : gn reader, cheesy writing ew

[ a/n ] : woohoo part 2, this is kinda cheesy but it’s okay bcz it’s charles teehee !! (reblogs very much appreciated !)

[ navigation ] : p1, p2

⸺ fluff under the cut

you never really understood the difference between being in love with someone and loving someone.

that was of course, until Charles stepped in.

how long has it been? you don’t know. you’ve been texting each other nonstop to the point you’ve lost track of time.

you’d occasionally smile at the message he sent, whether it’d be a silly joke or a cheesy pick up line— it has cartwheels form in your stomach, has your cheeks flush slightly.

you realized that you were in love with charles, and no matter how much you tried, you couldn't deny the fact that you loved him differently than how you loved the rain or reading books in the library.

you were so submerged into him that sometimes he was all you could think about.

other emotions of course lapped into you like waves lapping into the shore, but the love for him stays. he'd always manage to sneak in through the back doors of your mind.

though, despite all of the feelings you harbored, you could never dare to confess to him. the words would be stuck inside your throat, and you would (most of the time actually) sometimes brush off the feelings you had for him, thinking that maybe its just a phase and you'll move on from it.

you didnt want to scare him off, you just met him a few weeks ago after all, you didn't want it to be weird between the two of you, especially since you actually enjoyed the yogurt from the small shop.

but most importantly, you didn't want him to feel forced to reincorprate your feelings towards him and ruin the bond the two of you had.

ever since you got his number, you would ask if he ate yet, you would remind him to drink water as you learned that he does tend to forget sometimes. maybe those were wordless confessions, and maybe you found yourself hoping that he would realize sooner or later.

the familiar toll of the bells filled you ears as you entered the yogut shop, greeted with a warm smile from Charles himself.

"the usual?" he smiled his hands getting something behind the counter, before you shook your head with a chuckle. you could see his smile slowly fading, lips parting slightly, which made you raise youreyebrows.

you could see his hand put something away behind the counter, making you tip-toe slighty to get a peek of what it was.

"is that bad?" you inquired, a soft smile tugging the corner of your lips.

"n-no! it's not that. ." he cleared his throat, shifting his weight from a leg to his other leg, hands against the counter.

as you managed to finally get a small peek of what he put away behind the counter, it was a cup of yogurt- or rather, (his) your usual order.

"ah, you have it prepared already?" you chuckled, watching his cheeks slowly burn from embbarasment, a sheepish smile creeping on his face.

"uh, yeah." he murmured, glancing at the prepared cup of yogurt, then back to you, staying silent for a minute, taking in your apperance.

You couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering inside your stomach, you found it cute how he has your usual order memorized already. It's always the small details that does something to you.

"so, what would you like to order this time?" he smiles, tilting his head slightly.

"changed my mind. I'll just take the usual," you took your wallet, placing the money on the counter before he slides it back to you.

"keep the money, it's the least I can do." he hums, getting the cup of yogurt and handing it to you.

you blinked a couple of times before shaking your head, sliding the money to him.

"the least you can do for what, exactly?" you raised an eyebrow, his cheeks growing just a bit more red as he slides the money back to you again.

"..for your company."

his words echoed in your mind as you went home, unlocking the door to your apartment- heading straight to your bedroom, flopping down your bed and burying your face into your pillow, holding it tight.

your cheeks flushed a crimson red, your mind filled with the thought of him.

you sucked in a breath, before hearing your phone buzz in your pocket, causing you to pause and reach in your pocket,lifting your head from your pillow.

realizing it was a message from charles, you were unsure on how to react. fuck, what do you respond with?

he was asking if you got home safe. you thought about your resoponse, typing and deleting all over. his words still echoed in your head, you couldn't seem to shake it out of your thoughts- it'll always manage to creep back into your mind.

"yeah, I got home safely" your thumb hovered over the send button, before sighing and pressing send- hoping for the best.

reading back your response, it seemed kinda dry. you cursed under your breath, hoping he wouldn't mind.

"im sorry If I weirded you out before."

you read his text over and over again, wishing you could just asnwer and really be honest to him, pouring all the bottled up feelings you had for him.

"you didn't actually weird me out haha, I was actually happy to hear that you did"

"but why do you actually enjoy my company? I dont think im anything special for you to enjoy being around me."

"becaause I love you"

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seductivebac0n · 2 months

Text

they’re just nostalgia ⸺ CL¹⁶ ୨୧

you’ve always been the light in charles life. but he knows that if he wants to beat his childhood rival, he’ll have to let you go— even if it’s hard for him, he knows he can’t afford any distractions.

[ warnings ! ] : gn reader, brief mentions of alcohol, angst-ish ??, use of y/n once, poorly written

[ a/n ] : first time writing angst, so please don’t judge LMAO. based on the song ‘answer’ by Tyler the creator, and I initially wrote this as a joke but I needed something to post so there’s that. . anw p2 w make up sex?? maybe (reblogs very much appreciated btw !!)

⸺ angst under the cut

he fumbled with the keys in his hands, hastily unlocking the door to the apartment that he shared with you. he closed the door quietly, sucking in a breath as he sees you sat on the couch— reading a book.

he’s greeted with a smile, and it nearly broke him. he loves you— he truly does, but not over his dream. to beat his childhood rival. he simply couldn’t let his efforts go of waste.

“how was practice?” you questioned, a soft smile tugging the corner of your lips, as he watched you close your book and set it down beside you on the couch.

“it was.. it was okay.” he mumbled with hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. he felt bad. you were everything he ever wanted— he felt stupid for even doing this. for choosing his dream over you.

“hey— uh, I think..”

“I think we should break up,” he murmured, his voice a mere octave above a whisper. shifting his weight from one leg to another uncomfortably, he cleared his throat awkwardly.

you were the light and joy in his life, and he knows it. you’re the only thing he looks forward to seeing after a shitty race, or after a bad qualifying. he’d search for you in the crowd, wanting to engulf himself purely in the warmth you provide.

his words hung in the air, the tension of emotions thick.

“why? what went wrong?” you managed to muster out, your voice coming out shakier than you thought it would be.

he stayed silent for a minute, before clearing his throat— his eyes boring into yours. “I found someone else,” he lies, his gaze softening— but you could tell that it had a distant look, like his mind was wandering elsewhere.

his words were like daggers being thrown on your heart, piercing right through it.

as tears welled up in your eyes, a wave of emotions washed over you. confusion, insecurity, and betrayal. you couldn’t help but start to question your worth to him. did you really mean something to him all this time, or was that all just a lie? you knew Charles was popular among the ladies. he was a good looking man, surrounded with women with scarcely credible beauty.

but you were hoping that the bond you two had was special, that it could resist any temptations you, or Charles had towards any other men or women. Charles was a beacon of light in your life, and you were his. you truly did believe that the connection between you two was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.

with a heavy heart, you knew you had to face the harsh reality of his confession. you knew you had to muster up the strength within you to let him go.

you couldn’t force someone to love you, after all.

“I swear, I loved you at some point but—”

“..I understand.” you cut him off and wiped your tears, swallowing back the tears threatening to spill out.

“I’ll pack my things.”

for the past few days after the breakup, Charles struggled to get rid of the memories that you left in his apartment. he struggled to get rid of the paintings the two of you made for fun, hell— he struggled to change his lock screen which was you.

he kept making excuses, excuses to not remove that little widget in his phone that was a photo of you— the photo he took secretly.

he could only stare at his lock screen, the guilt washing over him whenever he turned on his phone to see you. he could feel the nostalgia, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

he’s standing on the podium, lifting and glancing at the trophy he earned while reminiscing the memories and moments the two of you shared together, he could imagine how proud you would’ve looked at this very moment. he felt stupid for wishing that you were here even though he was the one who broke things off.

winning doesn’t feel the same without you. he misses the way you’d squeeze him so tight when he won, the heat radiating off of you— he doesn’t feel as happy as he usually would. it felt like that winning simply wasn’t worth it without you there to congratulate him.

he has the urge to message you. to ask you how you’ve been, if you were doing much better without him, but he knew he couldn’t. not after what he did to you.

he walks off the podium, his clothes reeking of champagne as he heads to the garage— before noticing his teammate, a wide smile on his face as he comes to congratulate him.

“you did well out there,” Carlos grins, wrapping a arm around Charles shoulder, squeezing him slightly.

Charles simply smiles, muttering a quiet ‘thanks’— though Carlos knows something was up. it was obvious for everyone that Charles seemed odd, seemed distant.

“you’re not gonna tell y/n about this?” he questions, raising an eyebrow as he pulls his arm away, noticing how stiff Charles was despite managing to win first after a while.

Charles stays quiet for a minute, before responding, “I’d call them, but—” Charles pauses, sucking in a breath and glancing at his teammate, before adverting his gaze elsewhere.

“they’re just nostalgia.”

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seductivebac0n · 2 months

Text

Concerned Lando (LN4 x Reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ your set for the tour is a tad bit dangerous ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ pairing: lando norris x singer/popstar!reader w/c: 371 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ a/n: really short one!! masterlist(read more) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You created a name for yourself, trailblazer, singer, pop sensation and Lando’s significant other. You started your tour a few weeks ago, it went wild. Lando hadn’t been to any of your concerts yet due to his hectic racing schedule but you didn’t mind; he was always supporting you in different ways.

Your door swings wide open and Lando storms in, still in his white fireproofs. It startles you and causes you to lean too far back into your chair, falling onto your back.

You groan as Lando quickly runs over to help you up.

“You know you could knock?” You say.

“I know, but this is an emergency!” Lando says.

He doesn’t sound like he’s joking.

“What?”

“Your tour.” He starts, “There’s that one part where you get lifted up very high.”

“Yes.”

“Could you not do that! It’s dangerous, I almost got a heart attack when I saw a video.” He says, his hand flying to his heart area, patting it a few times.

You chuckle.

“Is this your ‘emergency’?” You tease him, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“YES!” Lando shouts, which makes you jump a little, “WHAT IF YOU FALL OFF?”

“I don’t think that will happen-” You point out, “It’s pretty safe.”

“No! What if it snaps and you fall? What will I do? I can’t live without you!” Lando rambles.

This is adorable.

You place one hand on Lando’s shoulder and grip it tightly, pulling him in.

“Lando.”

“Yea?”

“You drive really fast cars almost every weekend and I get on really high places during my tour; I think we’re both risking it every weekend.”

“Yes but-”

“Lando.” You cut him off, “I’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You pull him in for a hug and he hugs back. You pat his head and ruffle his hair a little.

“I’m glad you care that much about me.” You say.

Lando responds with some muffled noises as he buries his head in your chest.

“Adorable.”

He looks up at you, “I am not adorable.”

“Kinda are.”

“Am not.”

“Definitely are.”

“I am no-”

You push his head into your chest which cuts him off into muffles of noise. He tries fighting back but eventually concedes defeat.

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seductivebac0n · 2 months

Text

everything to you (AL12 x reader)

series masterlist || previous part

you speak up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: arthur leclerc x reader | (ex) charles leclerc x reader

w/c: 1209

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: actual season closer (not really). sorry if its anti-climactic or feels rushed.

taglist: @ggaslyp1 @janeholt3 @boherahpsody @kryingkat22 @iamkaku @vizzzashley @mycenterfold

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months pass like a blur, everything happening being too insignificant. Other than you slowly realising you’re getting over Charles, blocking him on your social media and throwing out the bag of his photos.

You also realise you’re growing closer to Arthur, and definitely more fond of him.

You also know dating Arthur would be a huge risk, since that would mean having to see Charles again, which isn’t the most ideal situation you want to be in.

It was one of those days where Arthur and you planned to go out. He brings you out occasionally, for the fun of it, and in the hopes you get over Charles. You got over Charles long ago, but you still want to go out with Arthur.

Arthur and you walk into the arcade.

“I loved this place as a kid.” You say.

He chuckles and agrees with you.

You smile back. Well you’ve definitely been smiling more, there’s been more laughter too.

You two have a blast playing in the arcade, you also catch yourself staring for a bit too long at Arthur sometimes. You snap out of it quick enough.

He’s definitely a lot better than you at these arcade games, which would usually piss you off but not with Arthur, who could get mad at Arthur? That’s what you told yourself at least.

“I’m so much better than you.” Arthur playfully scoffs.

“Okay. I get it. I suck.” You pout.

“Hey! I didn’t mean it like that!” He places heavy emphasis on ‘that’.

“Sure you didn’t!” You scoff.

“I did not.”

“Sure.”

“Really!”

“Mhm.”

“You’re making me look like a villain.”

“You are.”

“Shut up.”

Both of you have a lot more fun (a lot), you don’t think it could get better than this. You don’t think you’ve had a better relationship with anyone than with Arthur. You love it so much. You feel so treasured and respected.

A few hours pass and it’s 7pm by now, you two lost track of time a few hours ago but who cares.

Arthur’s hand is over your shoulder as both of you walk back to where his car is parked.

It takes you a few seconds too late to realise you have been staring into his eyes and how the setting sun made them glow.

He teases, “Are my eyes pretty?”

You would string together some bullshit answer with more banter inside but something different takes over this time.

“Yea.” You say, the words lacking any form of playfulness.

Arthur smiles, unsure of how to respond, “Really?”

“Yes.” You say. You feel a blush creep up your face.

You sigh, “This sucks. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

“Don’t tell me you’re falling in love with Charles again.” Arthur scoffs.

You chuckle. It’s almost adorable being this oblivious.

“No idiot.” You sigh.

“Then what?” He’s still pretty oblivious.

“It’s you. I’m falling in love… with you.” You admit, holding your breath as you await his response.

“Oh.” Arthur gets the hit of realisation, “That’s cool.”

That’s it?

“Right.” You reply.

The silence between you two gets more awkward as both of you get into the car. The tension in the car can be sliced with a knife.

He buckles his seatbelt and something takes over you. You can’t hide this anymore.

You lean over to his side of the car and plant a kiss on his cheek. Arthur, to your extreme surprise, does not flinch.

His face just blushes slightly pink.

“Don’t just do that.” He says as he starts the car.

What?

Now it felt like you were the oblivious one.

“Just because you said you love me.” He chuckles.

You’re very confused but you let out a soft chuckle.

“Sorry. Just felt right… I guess. Hope it wasn’t awkward or anything. I just-” You ramble.

“It’s alright.” He says and smiles at you.

You give him a blank stare back and he lets out soft laughs.

He leans over to you and plants a kiss on your forehead which makes your face turn extremely red.

“So… does that answer it?” He teases again.

“Yea… hell yea.” You say.

“I love you.” He says to you.

“Love you too.” You say back.

Goddammit.

You fell in love again.

You felt like kicking your feet and giggling endlessly, but of course you kept it all in.

He leads you into his apartment, which is where you decided to stay that night.

You sit on his couch, he sits next to you and lays his head on your shoulder. Both of you are sitting in silence.

“It’s been hard. Right.” You confess.

“Mhm. It has.” He smiles at you.

“It’s been forever I think, since I saw you maybe.” You confess more.

“No way.” He drags the words, “I fell in love when you trusted me enough to talk to me about Charles.”

“Weird but okay.” You joke.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Sorry.” You smile, “I love you… since… I don’t know, when I trusted you enough to tell you about Charles.”

His smile grows wider and that gives you butterflies in your stomach. They flap and flutter around, you struggle to contain your feelings.

The blush freely flows up into your face and Arthur leans in to kiss you, not a small peck, a full on kiss. A perfect full on kiss.

---------

It is finally time to meet Arthur’s family… again. He holds your arm and walks with you into the family function.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, the first person you run into is Charles. He sits at the other side of the table, taking shots from a glass when he notices you. He gives you a glance and a slight nod.

You take a deep breath and nod back.

His stare means a lot. You recognise that gaze, the one that told you he fell in love with you and the one which tells you that he’s still in love with you.

But you know you’re done with him and he knows that too, so he’ll keep his distance from you.

You and Arthur meet the rest of the family… well most of them already know you so there’s not much to introduce.

Both of you sit on a bench outside on the balcony.

“I love you.” He says.

“I love you too.” You say back before leaning in ever so slightly and kissing him on the lips.

He kisses back.

You knew love would disappear within weeks, like a moment in time or gone with the wind. You also knew Arthur was different, because he loved you for who you were, not for anything else.

---------

Everything started falling apart when Charles changed, becoming some cold and distant boyfriend.

Everything fell apart when Arthur talked to you about your problems.

Everything was gone when Charles walked out, leaving a giant hole in your heart.

You found someone left for you when no one else was, that was Arthur.

Everything became new again when Arthur made you feel a new sense of comfort.

Arthur became everything to you when you fell in love with him.

Now you don’t have to change anything about yourself to be with Arthur.

He was your everything, and you would never lose him.

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seductivebac0n · 2 months

Text

everything new (AL12 x reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

series masterlist | previous part | next part

changes happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: arthur leclerc x reader | (ex) charles leclerc x reader

w/c: 1547

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: lol. didn’t really know how to continue.

taglist: @ggaslyp1 @janeholt3 @boherahpsody @kryingkat22 @iamkaku @vizzzashley @mycenterfoldmasterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You slowly rise from your sleep, still drowsy. When your surroundings come into focus, the first emotion that enters your heart is absolute sheer panic.

Where am I? What am I doing here?

It takes you a few seconds to remember the events of last night. The thoughts of those make you want to cry again, how you miss Charles and everything.

Then you remember Arthur’s hug and his smile.

Your body relaxes and you lean back onto the bed frame.

Wait.

Arthur only has one bed.

SHIT.

It’s too early for this.

You hop off the bed and sprint out of the room into the kitchen, where you expect Arthur to be. He is there.

He’s making breakfast when you storm into the kitchen.

“Good morning.” He says calmly.

“Did we sleep in the same bed?” You ask him.

“Oh. No. I slept on the couch.” He smiles.

You nod at Arthur.

Oh. Okay.

You definitely feel better than you did last night, letting all of it out really helped.

“Breakfast?” He presents you with some food.

“Uhm, yea. I’ll go… wash my face first…” You say.

“Yea, I prepared an extra towel for you. It’s the yellow one.”

“Oh… thank you.”

Honestly, you expected this from Arthur. The textbook definition of gentleman.

You wash your face and walk back out to the kitchen. Arthur slides the plate of food to you, taking his own and leading you to the dining room.

He sits down on a long cushioned bench, patting the side for you to sit and you do. He bites into his food but you sit there staring at your food.

Your mind is preoccupied with thoughts, everything that happened, everything that’s supposed to happen and everything that might happen. You stare blankly into your food.

Arthur chews his food, swallows it then asks you, “Is something wrong?”

Well yes.

“No, it’s just… thank you…” You say, hesitantly, “for last night.”

“No problem.” He smiles at you, that same smile again.

You scream internally.

You take a bite out of your food.

The breakfast silence is awkward, not too awkward but none of you want to say anything to the other.

You feel an ever-rising pressure to thank him again, for letting you come over and probably an apology for making him sleep on the couch.

He gets up once he’s done eating.

“Wait.” You say, which makes him turn to you and cock an eyebrow, “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t need to sleep on the couch, that was… really… selfish…”

Was that the right word? You hope so.

“No. It’s okay, really.” He smiles and shrugs.

“No. It really isn’t, and thank you for letting me come over unannounced and just… staying there for me.” You ramble.

You can’t remember the last time you said those words to someone, you never really needed to. You just bottled it up and hoped no one noticed, and Charles didn’t really let you ever rant to him.

You take a deep breath, “Yea. I really needed it.”

Arthur flashes another smile, this one slightly warmer, radiating sunlight kind of warm.

Your mind flashes back to last night and Arthur’s hug, his warm embrace and his hand holding yours. You really needed that, you desperately needed that, and Arthur gave it to you. You missed having someone who would genuinely help you.

You want to cry again.

Goddammit.

You didn’t want Arthur to have to deal with another teary mess from you, so you held it in.

Arthur made you feel safe.

You never wanted to leave but you had to… eventually.

---------

If you were being honest, you expected a few days with Arthur… not a few weeks.

You were in Arthur’s house for weeks. You almost felt invasive at some points but Arthur always shot those feelings down with the most warming hugs or the most comforting smiles.

Sure the first few days were equally tough, having sudden outbursts of tears and breaking down out of nowhere, but Arthur was always there… like he said. He was always willing to sit with you for a few hours while you cried.

You felt like a burden to him sometimes but he didn’t even think so. He made you feel safe in his embrace, like no one else could hurt you… ever.

One of those days was especially tough, you just had random memories float into your head and when those happened, you just started tearing up.

Midway through that day, Arthur suddenly walks into the living room, holding two coats.

“I’m going out. Join me.” He says, throwing you one of the coats.

You don’t really feel like going out but you will yourself to your feet and catch the coat, “To where?”

“Ice cream.” He deadpans.

You sigh and put on the coat.

“You don’t have to come.”

“No. I’ll come.”

Arthur smiles and leads you out the house onto the streets. It’s probably the first time you’d been on the streets in a few days. The cold wind blasts against you and you shudder. Arthur chuckles and holds you closer.

“Body heat.” He teases.

You laugh, for the first time too. It takes you by surprise too as you quickly stop and process that you just laughed.

Arthur seems pleasantly surprised by your laugh. He offers to hold your hand and you accept.

He walks you over to an ice cream truck.

“What would you like?” He asks you.

Being used to Charles knowing your order by heart, this reminds you of those times again and your tears threaten to spill but you hold them back.

“Uhm… yea two scoops, one strawberry and one chocolate.”

Arthur smiles and nods, turning to the truck vendor and ordering the ice creams.

He hands you yours. You take it and start licking it.

“It’s good non?” He chuckles.

You nod, while licking the ice cream. Crying for days on end made you forget how good ice cream was.

He throws his hand over your shoulders and walks with you. It, of course, reminds you of what Charles used to do.

Arthur and Charles had a lot in common, that wasn’t something uncommon, sometimes it kills you when you see Charles in Arthur. You try your best to get over this, repeating to yourself that Arthur is Arthur.

“I bought this coat for you. Was hoping you’d wear it.” He admits, still smiling.

“Really?” You smile, which also surprises you, “That’s sweet. It suits me.”

“Great!” He cheers. It makes you chuckle slightly as you gaze at him while he smiles.

His smile is… pretty.

“Feel better?” He asks warmly.

“Definitely.” You say.

---------

A few weeks pass and you realise you should probably get to your actual home.

“Thanks for… everything.” You say, swinging over the coat which he gave you.

“Text me… if you need.” Arthur replies.

You definitely would text back, you knew it would be hours before you started crying again. Being all alone in what used to be you and Charles’ house would definitely not help your situation.

Arthur opens his arms for a hug and you hug him. It’s a perfect embrace, as usual. He takes a few seconds to step back, he gazes into your eyes.

“I really…” You stutter slightly

I really love you…

“Yea… I really… thank you.”

It was definitely too soon for another one.

Arthur flashes you another smile, “Your welcome.”

You walked out and closed the door, taking a huge sigh. You didn’t really know what you felt toward Arthur, but you knew it was too soon for another one. You couldn’t even gather your emotions right now.

---------

Your apartment is dark, and stuffy. You turn on the lights and you see that a lot of the stuff is missing. Charles must’ve taken them away. You couldn’t care less. You throw your stuff onto the floor and walk into your bedroom, turning on the ceiling fan for ventilation.

The photo frame on the bedside table catches your attention. It’s Charles and you, when you two were still ‘forever in love’. You feel a sting strike your heart.

You walk over and place the photo frame faced down, taking deep breaths to cope with it. You had to get over Charles. He never loved you. Why should you?

You pull down all the photos you had of Charles left on the walls or on the tables, shoving them into a bag and throwing that bag into one corner.

As you take down the pictures, the different memories float into your head, which make you tear up but you just keep taking them down, like stepping over these memories as if they mean nothing to you.

Once you’re done, you throw yourself onto the bed. It’s late. You’re tired. You had gotten used to Arthur sleeping next to you; because after a few days in his house you let him sleep in the bed with you, since you felt guilty for kicking him out of his own bed.

You lie on the bed, staring into the ceiling again but this time you’re not thinking of Charles, you’re thinking of Arthur. You admired his patience with you, you loved how he would never be unavailable for you.

It really was something special.

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seductivebac0n · 2 months

Text

everything that’s left (AL12 x reader)

series masterlist | next part

not everything is gone

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: arthur leclerc x reader | (ex) charles leclerc x reader

w/c: 1587

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: have fun!! i really do enjoy this series, hope you love it too :)))

taglist: @ggaslyp1 @janeholt3 @boherahpsody @kryingkat22 @iamkaku @vizzzashley @mycenterfold

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started with meeting him two weeks into you and Charles’ relationship, all he did was smile at you and wave when you greeted him.

“Meet Arthur. He’s my brother.” Charles says, placing his arm around your shoulder.

Arthur looks up from his phone and flashes a warm smile at you, giving you a slight royal-looking wave. You smile awkwardly and wave back.

He immediately turns back to his phone and Charles pulls you away, bringing you around to see other people.

Then it became ‘hi’s and ‘bye’s, waving when you two saw each other, giving each other smiles and acknowledgement.

“Hi.” You say as you walk past Arthur in the paddock.

“Hello.” Arthur replies, looking up from his phone and smiling slightly.

Slowly but surely you two started chatting, be it across text or in person; these chats were pretty shallow and superficial, talking about the weather and all.

“I saw your instagram post.” You comment.

“You did?” Arthur asks, chuckling slightly.

“Yea. Seems like you had fun.” You say, feeling slightly more comfortable.

“I did.” Arthur replies, smiling.

After that, it slowly evolved into deeper chats, about how having an older brother in the sport gave unreal expectations of him, less about the weather and more about feelings.

“It gets hard sometimes, yea, you get me?” He says, leaning back onto the seat.

“Mhm. Definitely. Must be hard.” You say, still rather uptight when talking to him.

“People expect me to be a carbon copy of him, and when I’m not, I’m just bad.” Arthur continues ranting.

You’re not sure if he’s intentionally ranting or not but you don’t mind. You enjoy listening to him talk about something deep rather than what the sky was looking like.

Then, the chats became more casual, happening anywhere and everywhere. The uptight and tense feeling in your body disappeared slowly and the knot in your stomach slowly faded off.

“And eventually, it all just piles up and it feels like no one is there for me and I feel like killing myself.” Arthur deadpans.

“Okay- first off, NO. You are not doing that. Second off, what do you mean ‘no one is there for you’? What am I? A roach?” You respond, scoffing.

“Listen, I did not mean it like that, sometimes you are too far away.” Arthur says.

“Literally text me.”

“I don’t have your number.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Well what the hell.”

You gave him your number, he gave you his: The start of many random calls and facetimes for whatever reason.

When Charles wasn’t there, the next best option was him. Arthur never hesitated to talk to you or sit with you while you stared into the blank space.

“Do you ever think about how we might not ever meet our soulmate.” You say, staring into the ceiling.

Arthur put down his phone, “I think we all will meet someone we love truly.”

“Mmkay…” You continued staring.

The silence in the room was not tense or awkward, it was more like a calm white noise that gave you a weird sense of clarity.

Finally, when you started losing Charles, Arthur became the first choice. If Charles was being a dick, it was going straight to Arthur. If Charles left you alone, Arthur was there.

You descend into a mess of tears and rambling. Across the phone, you hear shuffling of feet and footsteps.

“Please stay on the phone. I’m coming over.”

You manage out a ‘mhm’ for him.

There’s a short silence.

“Charles would never.” Arthur reassures you, “He’s faithful.”

You hope so too. You desperately hope so.

And now, you laid on Arthur’s couch, curled up in a cradle position, making some very unearthly noises as you cried your lungs out. You think back on everything leading up to this point.

What did you do wrong? Did you mess up?

Arthur walks back into the living room, holding a warm cup of water.

“I… uhm… you want water?” Arthur says, giving you the cup of water.

You nod weakly, your entire face red from crying and the dried up tears still on your cheeks. You take the cup of water from him and take a sip of it.

It’s warm, leaning to the hot side but still warm.

He takes a seat next to you and you shuffle to the side to give him space to sit down. He places his hands on his lap, like the gentleman he is.

“Sorry for…” You sniff, “Barging in randomly when I said I wanted to be alone.”

“It’s okay, really, no problem.” He assures, his hand flying to your shoulder and giving it a slight pat.

“It’s just been really hard and I don’t know why and it’s confusing me so much.” You sigh, sniffing more and holding back some tears.

“I get it. It’s hard… I’m always here for you.”

I’m always here for you.

I’m always here for you…

It sends some sort of chill down your spine, making you shiver slightly. The words repeat in your head as you try to construct a sentence to respond to him. Charles never really meant it when he said that, now Arthur’s the one saying it. You don’t really know what to say back.

“I hope so.” You say. It comes out a lot more obnoxious than you expected

It clearly takes Arthur aback too, as he hesitates to reply to you, clearly trying to find the right words.

“I will. You can trust me.” He says.

Again, Charles would say that often. You think about all the times he’s said it and all the times he went back on his word.

“Charles said that too.”

You can feel your emotions taking over, you’re not processing the words you’re saying, every word that spills out doesn’t go through a filter.

Arthur is clearly stumped on what to say next.

Shit.

You apologise, “I’m sorry, I’m tired, the words aren’t… processing or anything.” Your nose is still blocked.

“It’s alright. I understand.” He says again, still speaking as if you two were having some friendly chat.

You know Arthur’s the kind to speak rationally and methodically approach something but right now all you needed was the Arthur which hugged you when Charles couldn’t.

“Could you… not speak like that.” You blurt out. The words, once again, sounding rather rude.

Arthur raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t want any solutions right now.” You say, slightly frustrated.

Arthur nods, “Sorry. Just… natural instinct.”

“I just need you to…I don’t even know.” You take a deep sigh again.

Before you can string together another sentence, Arthur slowly shifts closer to you and pulls you in for a slow hug. You don’t fight back.

He pulls you in and pats you on the back, your head lays on his shoulder. It’s warm, very warm. His touch makes you tear up again.

His hug feels genuine, it feels as if he never wants you to leave him. You can’t remember the last time you were hugged like this.

The tears start flowing out again and you let out soft sobs, your head still laying on Arthur’s shoulder. As you sob and eventually start crying again, Arthur doesn’t let go, he doesn’t flinch when you abruptly start crying. He just keeps you within his embrace.

You missed this. You missed everything about this.

“I don’t wanna leave.” You say while crying. You’re not sure how much Arthur heard of that sentence but you couldn’t care less.

Arthur subtly nods and pats you on the back.

“You don’t have to.” He whispers gently.

Arthur’s gentle whisper makes you feel like crying even more and letting it all out, for real, for once. Everything about the way Arthur dealt with you made you feel safe.

You take a deep breath before releasing all your emotions at once. You don’t even know which emotions are coming out anymore, you just cry, scream and wail.

Arthur barely moves, once again not flinching at your sudden outburst. He releases you from the hug but keeps holding your hand. You eventually lay down next to Arthur, letting everything that’s bottled up out.

His grip on your hand is firm, and it’s assuring.

“You could stay… for a while.” He whispers again, but loud enough for you to hear.

You nod in response as you gather your emotions. It’s almost impossible to string together a coherent sentence at this point, your entire head is just a messy jumble of memories and everything that’s happening right now but blurred into one.

You really want to stay.

So you do.

About an hour passes before you stop crying and you sit up, taking multiple deep breaths, calming yourself.

Arthur’s still sat next to you, his hand still holding yours.

The sky outside is practically dark at this point, most of the city lights have gone off, except the clubs and some houses. Arthur’s been sitting silently next to you.

He’s been for the past hour, letting you have a safe space to pour your feelings out. He turns to you and smiles warmly, like the smile he flashed at you when you first met him, and like the one you so distinctly remember no matter what.

Like the smile you fell in love with when Charles couldn’t afford to give you a glance.

Charles walked out on you, and that took everything left out of you, he left a gaping hole in your heart. Everything disappeared when Charles walked out… everything but Arthur.

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seductivebac0n · 2 months

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everything’s gone (CL16 x reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ everything doesn’t make sense and you hate that. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ pairing: charles leclerc x reader; arthur leclerc x reader w/c: 1004 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ a/n: cannot write a series to save my life so please leave suggestions for the next parts or something!! masterlist(read more) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ taglist!! @ggaslyp1 @janeholt3 @boherahpsody @kryingkat22 @iamkaku @vizzzashley ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s gone. You and Charles, dead and gone and buried.

You sit alone in the bed, it feels emptier and a lot colder. You lie down onto the couch, looking up and staring into the ceiling fan, watching it spin.

Something in you feels missing, like a part of you left with Charles that day.

The lift doors open and the first sight is Charles’ luggage in the corridor.

All his things, packed into a few luggages and a giant bag. You quickly run into your apartment.

This was definitely not a good time, considering you had just cried in his brother’s arms for solid hours on end and had a massive fight with Charles.

Charles stands in the living room, stuffing all his clothes into a bag. His actions are rough and quick, he doesn’t bother folding them neatly like he normally would. He glances up to look at you and stuffs the final bit of clothing into the bag before standing up to face you.

“Back so soon?” He sarcastically remarks, scoffing a little at the end of his sentence.

His words strike like a knife to the heart.

“We should talk.”

“About what? How you chose Arthur over me?”

“You jumped to that conclusion.” You fight back.

“And I was most likely right.” He sneers.

“No. No, that wasn’t what happened .”

“Really? Then explain all of that. How you were calling him.”

“Maybe I just needed someone to understand me for once and not feel trapped by my own thoughts.”

“You could’ve called me, and I would’ve been there for you!”

“Believe me, that is exactly what I wanted to do, but when have you ever made me feel good about myself?”

Charles sighs, anger enveloping it. He rubs his forehead and runs a hand through his hair. He picks up the bag and throws it toward the luggage and walks into the room, refusing to acknowledge your words.

“Charles.” You say, trying to maintain some form of composure, resisting the urge to let your feelings take over.

He ignores you and walks into the bedroom, taking out his sweater and throwing it on.

That sweater was his birthday gift from you. It stings like salt in a wound.

He pulls it over his head and fixes his hair before walking right past you.

“Charles!” You call out.

He ignores you once again, swinging the bag over his shoulder.

“Charles you can’t just leave-”

“We’re done.” He says before slamming the door in your face.

You’re stunned, rooted to the spot before the moment finally hits you causing you to open the door and run out to the corridor.

You’re stunned, rooted to the spot. When you finally digest what had just happened in the past few minutes, you hurriedly run out the door, into the corridor.

“Charles!” You shout across the corridor, but you don’t get a response back.

“Charles! Don’t do this.” Words are just falling out of your mouth, desperate for him to somehow change his mind and run back into your embrace.

The next few seconds are blurred into a flash as Charles gets into the elevator, leaving you all alone in a quiet corridor.

You stand there silently.

The cold and heavy air surrounding you.

The ceiling fan whirls in a circle endlessly and holds your stare captive.

Charles and You.

Perfect couple.

Happy endings.

A love hung by a thread.

Romance made from sand on the beach.

It was never meant to be.

“I love you.” Charles says while dressed in a suit which made him look perfect.

“I love you too.” You reply.

He flashes you a smile, a warm and bright one, holding your hand and giving it a little kiss.

Your face turns red as he does so, he makes you feel… euphoric.

Where did it go?

You don’t know where it all went wrong, where it all went south, where everything went bad.

The ceiling fan starts to blur as you continue to stare blankly into it, imagining what could’ve been.

Maybe you would’ve had date nights, sunset drives, unexpected kisses for the rest of your lives.

Maybe it would’ve been absolutely perfect and nothing could ever change it.

What went wrong?

What if you never lost faith? What if Charles didn’t change? What if you were the one to blame?

It feels like a blow to the heart, you feel his kisses on your body and you shiver. It feels different, a wave of regret, guilt weighing onto you.

Your phone rings which makes you sit up slowly, reaching for your phone and glancing at the contact before picking it up.

“Hello Arthur.” You say, eerily calmly.

“y/n?” He says back.

“Hello.”

“Is everything okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Charles left.”

“What?”

“He walked out.”

“Oh… do you want me to come over to help you or-”

“No. No Arthur, I think I need time.”

“Yes. Of course! Sure. Whatever you want..”

You freeze, a shiver sends down your spine. Whatever you want. Something about that feels amazing.

Was it that hard? If Arthur could do it, why couldn’t Charles?

“Thank you.” You manage to say, hoping it didn’t sound too ungrateful.

“Call me if you need.”

“Will do.”

You hang up the phone.

Your mind is still repeating the words. Whatever you want. That was all you asked for, for someone to be willing to be there for you or just sit with you. Sure that was probably not what Arthur meant when he said those words but it meant that to you.

All of it starts weighing down onto you. Did you actually love Charles? You did… right? You knew something was never right about you and Charles but you still loved him.

Nothing makes sense and you hate that.

Everything started falling apart when Charles changed, becoming some cold and distant boyfriend.

Everything fell apart when Arthur talked to you about your problems.

Everything was gone when Charles walked out, leaving a giant hole in your heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ please leave suggestions for the next parts!!

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seductivebac0n · 3 months

Note

I really want to see the arthur leclerc x verstappen! male! reader since we dont have much of him

okay, if you want something driver based instead of this mafia fic, I will be writing it at some point :)

also sorry this took me so long to get out I tossed a few options here and there before deciding on this one :)

Okay I came up with this so it’s a little different to the original moodboard, but if you want something accurate to the moodboard, see here

if you want to participate in my 100 followers event, look here :)

(hint hint: this closes on Thursday 1st March 0:00 GMT, so if you want to make a request do so soon because this is in a little more than a week when publishing this :))

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

Also…i know there’s all the shit going around about christian horner, i just want to say that i don’t condone his actions at all, and while I have left him in this fic, I am separating the character from the person.

also warnings: death, general mafia shittiness, homophobia, bad dad jos

arthur leclerc x male!verstappen!reader

“Ermitage will be safe for you, Y/N. It has kept Max safe for years and I trust their teachers. Professor Marko, who will teach english, Professor Horner who will teach history and public speaking, and Professor Dominicelli who is the head teacher all sing their praises of Max, and have helped your admission into the school. The school does not regularly take students mid year, however based on your prior behaviour and safety. I needed to send you here.”

Y/N scoffed at his fathers words. His ‘prior behaviour’ wasn’t all that bad. Max had been sent to this school for an arson attack that had almost resulted in the deaths of 5 people, including 3 of his dad’s own men. He was being sent to this school for running away from his bodyguards, drinking and making out with a boy. But Max was his father’s golden boy, and Y/N was the spare in case a rival gang took out Max. And he was sure that Max despised the 2 of the professors, based on his letters to Y/N. He seemed to adore Professor Horner, so maybe that would be Y/N’s respite.

As the car pulled up in front of the school and crunched on the gravel driveway, Y/N took a minute to admire it.

He smiled as he saw the young children running around near the junior school. He got out of the car, smiling as he felt the warm French sum combined with a small breeze. The car had pulled up on the other side of the driveway, in between 2 other buildings. One looked very traditional, however there had clearly been an extension or five as parts looked very modern with a lot of glass. The other building was gorgeous. The other building was very traditional, looking like one of Jos’ summer houses in Denmark, all white and clearly spacious, however it had a metal spiral staircase on the outside that led to the roof. Jos would’ve killed a builder if that had been left there at their house. It made the building look less professional, and even Y/N wasn’t sure that he liked it.

Y/N watched as 3 men came out from the doors of the building. The 2 in front, both had greying hair and stern expressions, whispering amongst each other, while making disgusted looks towards Y/N. The third looked a little younger and shorter, with grey hair, attempting to look serious and stern as he walked towards the 2 with Y/N’s big brother in tow. Y/N smiled as his brother walked out with the teachers. He looked happy and better and less like he’d just torched a building than the last time he had seen him. Max whispered something in the younger man’s ears and the mask of sterness dropped to smile at the boy.

The group reached the pair of Verstappens, and Max let his guard down a little after shaking hands with their dad to give his baby brother a big bear hug, and provide some intel.

“Who’d he catch you with, huh?”

“Liam. At least it wasn’t bloody Frederik or he’d be here to inform you that I got caught up in the crossfire of a shooting and my funeral is tomorrow.”

“It was simply a matter of time. Anyway, you will like it here. Try and steer clear of Marko, he is incredibly strict and if it was still legal he would hang you from your arms from the roof until your shoulders dislocated. You will barely see Dominicelli, he just rocks up to greet you now, and you will never see him again. Horner is also our housemaster. He’s amazing. He’ll like you. He kinda adopted me after I told him how much of an asshole dear father is.”

“Okay.” Y/N smiled tensely as he pulled himself out of his brother’s hug and turned to greet the 3 strangers.

The first one looked old, as in old enough to retire, and had a stern face, as in someone who would scold you for laughing too hard. Someone after his fathers’ own heart he presumed. He held his hand out, and the man took it, shook it once, and then dropped his hand, as if disgusted to be touching ‘someone like Y/N’. So an old homophobe then. He then turned around and started talking to Jos, and Y/n tried to eavesdrop as he met the other men.

“Lawson has been dealt with, I’m just concerned about…”

The 2nd man, held out his hand and shook Y/n’s twice which was an improvement, at least until he dropped it.

“...he sort of always showed signs but I never thought…”

Then he tried to discreetly wipe his hand on his pants.

“...The Mercedes guys were there, if they had realised who he was…”

Y/N picked it up, and looked down at the ground, slightly awkward, unsure of what to do as the final teacher approached him.

“...Hamilton is pissed, one of his men was caught in the crossfire of trying to get Y/N out…”

Professor Horner immediately engulfed him in a tight hug.

“...see the problem is I can’t explain to anyone why they were shot in a random club on a random thursday to get my son out…”

It was the first time for a long time that Y/N was getting a hug from someone older like her dad’s age. He was so shocked that he missed the next part of Jos and Helmut’s conversation and strained to hear the next part.

“...i can’t tell them my son was in there…so now it looks like i shot up a nightclub for no reason…”

Christian started reassuring him in his ears about how he was safe here and whatnot, but all Y/N was thinking was about how he was preventing him from properly eavesdropping the conversation

“...No, no one important, a lackyman, Aron or something…”

Y/N could feel his heart drop. Paul was dead? He’d known Liam was dead, Jos had used him as an example, but he hasn’t even known that Paul was at the nightclub.

“...it’s done, there’s 2 dead bodies to dispose of, which im gonna do when i get back, but just keep an eye on him please…”

Christian seemed to realise the internal struggle that Y/N was having and started hugging him tighter to make him feel better.

“...He’s gonna get everyone killed and he will only realise when he loses his brother the consequences his actions have…”

‘I KNOW WHAT CONSEQUENCES MY ACTIONS HAVE DAD, YOU KILLED MY KIND OF BOYFRIEND IN FRONT OF ME!’ Y/N wanted to scream at his dad, but that would make him realise that he was eavesdropping and why he was actually here.

Christian felt him tense and tried to sooth him into the hug.

“Alright, that’s enough, Christian, how about we head inside?”

—

Arthur could recognise the boy walking in, but he couldn’t see the father which would help if he could work out why his body was in fight and flight mode as the boy had seen him, waved and smiled at him.

A memory flashed, of a meeting him and all his brothers together in a meeting room, as their father ran them through their highest enemies. He could remember the smile of a kid his age. He remembered Lorenzo asking how a 5 year old could be a threat…he doesn’t remember the rest or why this kid is a threat, but he remembers the goofy smile, the smile that was being flashed his way now, and the eyes that held so much happiness that seemed to hold a lot more pain now.

He couldn’t remember why this kid was in the powerpoint, so he supposed it was okay and irrelevant and smiled back, before being hurried on by Lorenzo.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @ghostking4m

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