#milan: asks answered

[brokenfractions]

@lonehearts sent: "💌 to write my muse a love letter." emory to milan / from love is in the air.

to my sweetheart,

i've never really written a love letter before (i'm sure that's pretty obvious), but since it's valentine's day, and you deserve everything good in the world, i wanted to try.

i love you. so, so much. i don't think i can even put it into words how much i adore you. i know i've written you all the love songs in the world and i'll keep doing it, but even that's not enough. you've brought so much love and light into my life, at a time when i thought i wouldn't have that again. falling in love with you feels like the warmth of the sun after a cold winter, like i've come alive all over again.

i see you, and it's like i'm looking at my whole life, my present, my future and my everything. it's not just because you're the most beautiful person i've ever and will ever see in my entire life, but because you're so good, that i feel like i have to be better just to measure up to you. i don't think that's possible, though. how could i ever be as sweet and lovely as my emory? but i want to try. just for you. you deserve all the love i can give you. every part of me, the good and the bad, all of me, is yours to keep for all eternity. and, we have eternity together, don't we?

i know this incredibly sappy and trust me, i'll write you a more erotic letter later, but i think you needed to know how you're the jewel of my life, my darling and i love you more than anything. thank you for loving me and making me realise there's good in the world. i just needed to find you.

with all my heart,

your milan iseul.

[sunchases]

☎️ also for milan, bc i think we need some harper and milan things on here

put ☎ in my inbox for your muse's info in my muse's phone. accepting!

name: milan 🖤 ringtone: drama by aespa picture: here last text received: are you in my apartment right now??? last text sent: yes and i brought the cats. why aren't you home yet.

[ask-muppet-phantom]

muppet erik i think you're very beautiful and very sweet, would love to hang out some time :))

[effervescentdragon]

Why are you reblogging gifs of yourself 😹

Curls/sweaty lando was you af in milan 😽😽

I fucking hate you 😤 i was just telling bff i need to know which hair profucts he uses and i said i probs need to have as much money as him to get a stylist and he just looked at me and said "Lando does the same thing you do. His style is I Woke Up Like This, just like yours" so i hate you both 😤😤😤

[mortalityplays]

talking about impenetrable accents/dialect just reminded me. when I was in Milan a couple of years back I was staying in this little rathole hotel and I had the biggest fucking migraine, so I was like non c'è problema I'll just go buy painkillers. of course every pharmacy on the map in a three block radius was closed, so my stupid ass just starts wandering around trying to figure out on the fly if you can get OTC from supermarkets in italy.

I walk into this little everything store (to my foreign eyes the kind of place that back home could sell you a bunch of carrots, a 6-pack of beer, pantyhose, bleach and a screwdriver set) and I see some household basics in the back but not what I need. with the confidence of a person who is only in the city for 3 days because he got bored and packed a bag and booked the cheapest flight available the week before (<= MENTAL ILLNESS), I was like no worries I know some italian, I can just ask.

I grab a bottle of water, walk up to the counter, and I'm like Ciao, hai il paracetamolo? And the guy is like che, and I'm like paracetamolo. Per la mia testa. And he's like che?

This is where I would have said 'aspirina' except I can't take aspirin for medical reasons, or 'antidolorifico' except I don't know that word and I've got no phone data for google translate and also I'm stupid. So in my fucked up leith-glasgow-italian accent I'm like paaa-ra-cetta-mollll-ooo. He's like ohhh bene, bene, and he calls another guy out of the back and asks him to go get something. Other guy then walks out of the store into the street, and before I can be like hey, che la fuck, he comes back and hands me a huge bundle of herbs.

At this point I'm like okay this entire interaction has been a bust, but these guys have been very nice and patient and they're both smiling happily at me because they've been of service, so I'm like ahh perfetto, grazie, pay them a couple of euros and leave.

EVENTUALLY I find a pharmacy that's open, and my head is fucking killing me, and my phone still isn't connecting, and now I have this small shrubbery poking out of my coat pocket, so I don't even bother looking around the shelves. I just walk straight to the counter and I'm like uhh ciao, scusi. And hearing my nightmare of an accent the guy answers in english and I'm like thank christ, do you please have paracetamol. Not aspirin, I can't take aspirin. And he's like yeah yeah hold on, goes into the back, comes out with what I need.

Only when he comes out he gives me this look, and then he starts laughing. And then he pretends he's not laughing and rings me up and I pay, and as I'm leaving I can see him losing it. But I don't care, my head is going to explode, I'm going back to the rathole to close the blinds and fall comatose for four hours.

When I get back to my hotel room I take off my coat and remember the huge bouquet of herbs in my pocket. They smell amazing, and I'm like I'm pretty sure this is parsley in which case I can just get some tomatoes and mozzarella later and make it work. but since I have no idea what that interaction was, I want to make sure. I bring out my phone to get a visual reference of what parsley leaves look like, and because I was using it for google translate earlier I put 'parsley' in the wrong box like a dope and translate it to italian.

prezzemolo

I wish I could have been the pharmacist in the moment he looked at my tired pissed off anglophone ass, heard me say 'paracetamol' in my fucked up accent, and turned around saw what was in my pocket. I'd have lost my shit too.

[pop-pop-pop-popculture]

popcultureconfessions/743618053990907904/i-think-the-clothes-the-models-wore-for-the-avavav?source=share

Don't models who aren't nepotist or aren't A-list that walk during fashion week not get paid to walk for designers? Because if so then that sucks even more for all of the models who walked in the [Avavav] show!

.

[milla984]

pansy and daffodil for the flower asks!

Daffodil

1: I used to call my teddy bear 'Bei' because I couldn't pronunce the word 'bear' or 'bär', in German (part of my family is of Austrian descent) 2: I started reading when I was 3yo 3: during primary school I didn't have permission to watch tv after 9:30pm. My mom was a huge X-Files fan back then so I remember being absolutely creeped out but the intro I could hear playing from the living room, every Sunday night 4: one of my fave albums to listen to on the bus during field trips was Queen's Greatest Hits vol.2 5: and Brian May was my first celebrity crush ever (I blame the hair) 6: I probably read Matilda + The Witches by Roald Dahl and Der kleine Vampir/The Little Vampire saga by Angela Sommer-Bodenburg a bazillion times 7: I had people gifting me earrings (for pierced ears) more often than not, as a b*day present. Spoiler alert - I don't have pierced ears 8: I loved having dinner at our family's friends' place because the conversation between adults was so boring to me I was allowed to watch a cartoon movie. I still don't know wtf thought Bakshi's The Lord of the Rings was a suitable choice for a 5yo… but that was the movie I would always ask them to play for me, since it scared me to death

Pansy

1: it's the second biggest city in my Country 2: our metro/underground system has five lines while Rome (the capital city) only has three 3: on top of the highest spire of our main cathedral stands a Madonna statue covered in real gold foil. The statue had to be wrapped up in rags during WW2 so that British pilots couldn't spot it's shining surface and drop their bombs right in the heart of the city 4: Milan is famous for being very 'fashionable'. In fact, there's a particular area known as the 'Golden Quadrilater' (or Quadrilater of Fashion, a literal translation of its Italian name) which is bordered by four streets full of top-end boutiques and retail outlets that belongs to the world's major fashion houses 5: one of Leonardo's masterpieces, L'Ultima Cena/The Last Supper is located in its original painting place, the church of Santa Maria delle Grazie/Saint Mary of Graces, not far from the city centre. Leonardo also designed a floodgates system that was used to navigate the river that runs across the city - the floodgates are still visible today but they're not in use anymore 6: it's an ancient city so there's plenty of ghost stories, superstitions and interesting facts connected to the spiritual world (for reference: 🎃, 🎃, 🎃) 7: traditional dishes of my city include: saffron risotto with ossobuco (sliced shin of veal containing marrowbone), panettone and milanese cutlet

[lecl3rcw]

KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS | Leclerc brothers x sister! reader

—————————————

Pairings: Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo Leclerc x sister! reader (model reader)

Summary: As Arthur and Y/N are on live together, Arthur accidentally spills his guts on Y/N crush on this mystery man, who is this man? And what will her brothers’s reaction be.

Warnings: I’m using meeya dugied’s photos as a reference! But reader has no faceclaim!

Author’s note: WHOO it’s been a while, hope you guys have been well, I just wanted to say Thankyou for being so patient with me, I’ve had a lot going on in my life but just know your requests are in the process of being finalized! I’m the meantime, this is just a little short fic for everyone!

____________________________________________

“Do you think the chicken came first or the egg?”

“….Shut up Arthur”

The boy narrowed his eyes at his twin, the two youngest leclercs were on Y/N’s Instagram live because they were so bored and since then it’s been a blur.

“Y/N who is your favorite brother out of the 3, Lorenzo for sure” she reads out the question and answers it without hesitation.

“Girllll whats up your ass today, did Jo-” before he could say more, the girl quickly covers his mouth, “Shut the fuck up Arthur! I swear I’m never telling you anything again!” She says, pushing his face out of the frame.

“Ouch! See guys this is what happens when you’ve had the fattest crush on this dude named J-” She interrupted him once more.

“Ok everybody! That’s it for this live, Thankyou so much for keeping us entertained and I hope you all have an amazing day! Love you” she says quickly before turning the live off.

“You’re actually such a cunt Arthur” she says as she pushes him again.

“What? It’s not like I said his name” he responds standing up

“it’s not your place Hoe” she responds standing up.

“Whatever girl, talk to the fucking hand” he says raising his hand in the most sassy way possible before walking off.

What in the sassy men apocalypse, she shook it off and just allayed down on the couch, before she got a text.

She rolls her eyes again, “I’m so sick of them” she scoffs.

She smiled at the replies her tweet got, the f1 fanbase has got to be the most creative one yet to exist. Tired from scrolling, she shuts her phone down and decides to rest her eyes. However, her peace only lasted for 20 minutes as her phone rang for a Group FaceTime call. She lets out a loud groan but answers it.

“So Y/N, Tell us who this man” Lorenzo asks.

“Again, no hi, no hello” she responds.

“Y/N I swear!” Charles interrupts her.

“Oh my god, for fucks sake, it’s Jo-” Arthur starts but is immediately interrupted,

“STOP, fine, I’ll text it to you” she says before shooting the groupchat a text.

“Oh Y/N, you know that never ends well” Charles says.

“Says you? Let me ask all your ex girlfriends” she responds in a very snarky way, Charles looked taken aback.

“Ok damn girl, calm down no need to get all violent🙄” he says visibly rolling his eyes.

“Sorry Charlie, i didn’t mean that, if Alexandra and Charlotte are there tell them i love them and that they’re way better than their mans, anyways bye goodnight, have a good trip” she says.

“You too Chérie, hope your photo shoot goes well tomorrow!” Charles says before hanging up, Lorenzo adds to that with “and goodluck with J-”

“OK GOODBYE” she says hanging up, she lets out a sigh and puts her hand on her face. She gets up and does her skincare routine, and goes to sleep.

The next morning, her flight to Milan was very early so she was at the airport by 6.

She hugs Arthur, “Bye tur tur, hope your race testing goes well” he hugs back tight, “you too Y/n/n”

She hugs her mom tightly, “Love you Maman” she squeezes her, Pascale reciprocating the action. “I love you, text me when you land” her mom says, and the young girl nods. She waved one last goodbye to her mom and her brother before boarding the flight.

She makes a quick post on her Instagram before shutting her phone off for her flight.

y/n.leclerc

y/n.leclerc june with my fav people ever🫶🏻 p.s. Alexandra is the best photographer

tagged charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotollotaleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, carla.brocker, charlottedipietro, pascale_leclerc

Liked by bengals, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,000,000 others

arthur_leclerc WHATS 4+4😝

^y/n.leclerc ATEEEEEEE

^charles_leclerc girllll more like -8

^y/n.leclerc I’m gonna beat your ass.

alexandrasaintmleux my chérie😍

^y/n.leclerc THE LITERAL LOVE OF MY LIFE😍

bellahadid let’s get married

^y/n.leclerc I’m gonna bite you☺️

leclercupdates NOT THE BENGALS LIKING

^wags4life LIKE ARIANA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE?

y/n’swhore SHES LITERALLY THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON EVER😞

What the girl didn’t expect was to get a text from one of the most popular teams ever.

Bengals Hello! We would like to host a partnership with you, we wanted to invite you to one of our games as an honorary guest, you can bring up to 6 people.

……

[gilverrwrites]

Best friends to lovers, but it's Dick Grayson.

≈1.3K words, CWs: F!Reader, cunnilingus, dirty talk. Pet-names: Princess, baby girl, pretty girl. Rating: 18+ MINOR DNI

Your best friend Dick Grayson has no boundaries.

He helps himself to your food, swapping and changing dumplings for noodles, carrots for celery, dips his fries in your milkshake, without even asking.  

He leaves his dirty clothes in your washing hamper, ‘borrows’ your lotions, and leaves his streaming services logged in on all your devices. In the winter he puts his cold hands under your shirt, stealing your warmth, and laughs when you flinch. “But you’re so hot!” He whines, hugging you tighter, “Let me hold you a while longer, please.”

In the summer he struts around your apartment, shirtless and sheening with sweat, eating your ice cream, pumping up the AC so he and Haley can chill out post-run. Not that you mind, it’s just that ‘oh, no, he’s my best friend’ is a hard sell when you bring dates home.

At random hours of the early morning, he wakes you up by crawling into bed with you, clings to the over-sized shirt you're sleeping in that is clearly his and makes fun of your tattered old underwear. “They’re comfy!” “They’re… something...” He trails off, all dreamy and quiet, refusing to expand before falling asleep, and is gone by the time you wake up.  

Your best friend Dick Grayson brings you gifts from all over the world. Chocolates from that one mom-and-pop you once mentioned in Keystone, jewellery, and perfume he probably paid way too much for from market vendors in cities like Paris and Istanbul, risqué pieces of underwear from Milan.

On late nights, he rests his head on your tummy, settled between your thighs as you watch your favourite film series for the nth time, smiling to himself as you babble on about your favourite scenes, about facts he already knows because you already told him, but he wants to hear you say it again anyway. When you start falling asleep on the couch, he lifts you, bridal style with ease, and carries you to the bedroom. “Come on then princess, let’s get you to bed.” “I can do it myself.” “You can’t even keep your eyes open, let me.”

He brushes stray pieces of hair out of your face when you’re too engrossed in something to do it yourself, when your hands are too full to reach, or when he wants to get a better look at you, just because he loves looking at your face.

“Um, what are you doing?” He nonchalantly hooks his finger into the waistband of your trousers, disappointed when he gets a not-too-subtle peek at neither your endearing threadbare usuals, nor the lacey Italian ones he’d bought for you.

Your best friend Dick Grayson flirts with you blatant and publicly;

“The red or the blue?” “Neither.” “I have to wear something!” “I’d love to see you wearing nothing.” “Wear the blue, always the blue.” Jason would never let it go otherwise.   “What do you want?” “You.” “I meant to eat.” “Same answer.” “I could never be you.” “What? Why?” “Must be tiring, being that cute.”

He texts you when you’re not together. “Good morning pretty girl” “saw this and thought of you.” “What are you wearing?”

One day you text back a picture, a mirror selfie from behind, your skirt hiked up, showing off the tiny navy-blue thong and he doesn’t text back. You worry that you’ve taken it too far, overstepped a line. 

Until your best friend Dick Grayson is waiting for you when you arrive home, sporting a nasty black eye and a smile the size of titan tower. In actuality, that image was exactly what he’d been hoping for every time he messaged. That image had been ingrained in his mind since you sent it, and it was one thousand times better than he’d imagined. That image was his hook, time to reel you in.

“Sorry I didn’t text back, I was speechless. No really, I got this” he points to the purple bruise forming around his eye “because I was distracted, thinking about you.”

“It’s cool, you didn’t have to say anything.” You lie. “Not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 

“Can I see it again?”

In the middle of your cramped kitchen, your best friend Dick Grayson lifts your skirt above your waist and drops to his knees, brazenly eying your folds. On request, you take the skirt from his hands, holding it up, exposing yourself as you do a little twirl for him, letting him see the full picture. 

When he lands a playful smack on your ass-cheek he grins, thrilled by the playfully petulant look you fire at him over your shoulder. When he runs a finger over your clothed slit, he’s even more delighted by the way your body shivers, by the hint of wetness he can feel seeping through the thin piece of fabric.   

You don’t stop him when he hooks a finger in the crotch, pulling the obstructing lace to the side, or when he runs his fingers through your now exposed lips. Deft fingers tease you, ghosting over your clit with no real fiction, making your pussy clench around nothing. 

“Want something?” The sight of him at your feet, watching you through defiant eyes has you weak.  

“Yes, touch me.” The sight of you, spread and writhing has him near feral, but he wants something more. 

“I’m already touching you, Princess.” He laughs, his warm breath against your slick tingles. If his breath is enough to make you quiver, he can’t wait to find out what his tongue will do to you. “Ask for something else. Nicely.”

You’re not sure exactly what he wants you to say, so you stammer the first words that come to mind; “Please Dick, stop teasing. Just do whatever you want to do, I want it too.” 

It’s enough. 

Your best friend Dick Grayson lifts you by your knees, setting you on the counter and securing your thighs over his shoulders as he descends on your folds. He’s messy and desperate, unable to get enough of your sweetness, darting his tongue in every direction until he finds the select few motions that have your fingers curling in his hair, have you panting his name between loose lips.

When you start to roll your hips, using his mouth for your own pleasure he can’t help but moan, the reverb sending further vibrations through your body that has your toes curling. He’s rock hard, itching to palm his cock, to grind it against the closest surface, but that’s an afterthought. He won’t get off until he’s lapped up your climax at least once. 

“Are you gonna cum for me?” His words are slurred, muffled between your legs, unwilling to pull away long enough to get his words out cohesively. “I want you to cum all over my face, okay baby girl?”

If he wasn’t already salivating against you, Dick’s mouth would water at the sight of you. Your body begins to jerk, your back arching, head thrown back as your orgasm hits you, his firm hands tighten around your legs, locking your lower body in place until all your tension is gone, and his face is soaked with your fluids. 

As you come down from your high, he savours the flavour, occasionally licking up stray droplets from your skin. He admires the way you look, head lolled to the side, eyes static under heavy lids, jaw slack, until it’s too much, until he needs to see you high on his doing once more. Without warning he lifts you. The collar of his shirt is damp, his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess.

“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable for round two.” Your best friend Dick Grayson says as he cradles your body in his arms. 

[tresnja12]

what do you think about ante not making it to the national team squad cause of his problems with dalic again? i hate that he’s missing the world cup cause of stupid beef

I don’t know, honestly after he spoke in the Dinamo Zagreb Milan press conference and said nice things about the hns i thought he’d finally worked things out with Dalić, at this point i think it’s Dalić to not want him back for whatever stupid reason

[leaawrites]

The Eras Tour

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: in which your boyfriend surprises you with tickets for The Eras Tour.

I kinda wrote this as like a hug of some sort because I didn’t get tickets and am now devastated. (Yes, I did cry about it) (more than once if I'm honest)

Warnings: fluff, a bit of making out, kissing, English isn't my first language

Masterlist

"I hate it here so I will go to / secret gardens in my mind / people need a key to get to / the only one is mine."

Lando heard low humming and whispered words leaving her mouth as he closed the door to her apartment. The scent of pesto and spaghetti lingering in the air, together with the flowers of her shampoo. Walking into the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe, watching her. Towel wrapped around her hair to dry, pyjama pants covering her legs and a bra. A coffee, half empty, was still sitting beside her. She took a sip now and then.

Turning around she grinned at him, stop singing to not embarrass herself.

"Hello there," she said, quoting Obi-Wan.

Lando laughed at her low voice and miserable impression of the Jedi.

"Hi you," he said back, still staring.

A sense of happiness floated around him and she could feel it. The good mood was drowning every other emotion that once was in the room.

"What's got you so happy?" she asked, beginning to move to the new beat.

New Romantics.

She knew how much the almost of every race weightened him down. She could feel it in the way he held her, his sorrow drowning her as well. The possibility of a new win made the second place feel so much worse. He could do it now, he knew that. He just wasn't able to do it. Maybe it would take him another 5 years, he once told her as they laid in bed together. Then I'll wait 5 more years, she answered.

"Pack your bags," Lando answered simply.

"Where are you taking me, Mr Norris?" she asked, finishing up the spaghetti and walking over to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, he kissed her.

"Milan," he whispered.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with confusion. What could they possibly want in Milan at this moment?

"I know that you were sad when you didn't get Tickets to go to The Eras Tour, so I may have called a few people," he elaborated. Her eyes widen and her mouth stood open in shock.

"You did what?" She asked just to make him repeat his words. Her heart was beating and her eyes were flooded with tears all of a sudden.

"We're going to see T-swizzle, baby," he said, laughing at her reaction.

"Holy shit," she exclaimed, throwing herself on him. Hugging him tightly and kissing his neck, a thousand thank yous falling from her lips on his skin, sinking in and finding their way to his heart where they would be kept in memory.

"Are you sure about this?" Only now did the important part come to her mind. Pulling away she looked at him. She knew how much Lando tried avoiding any public outings, in fear of the fans reaction. He didn’t care about what they said, but he knew she would. And breaking her heart through a third hand coming into their relationship wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to make her happy.

"I'm sure," he said, kissing her. "I was so in fear of other people's perception that I forgot that love is the most normal thing in the world. If I want to love you fully I will. Seeing you happy is what love is to me."

"So we're really going?" She asked again.

"We're really going," he confirmed again.

The girl began jumping up and down, squealing and screaming and laughing.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," she repeated over and over again, taking his hands in hers and holding them against her chest to make him feel her heart.

"I love you too," he said, kissing her. His hands losing hers and grabbing her breasts. His lips traveling down her neck and collarbone. Squeezing her flesh and letting her know that he meant it.

[doromoni]

The Tip Off | MV1 , LN4

Off Time : A Spin Off (Max’s Pov)

Ships : Max Verstappen x F1 Presenter! Reader, Lando Norris x F1 Presenter Reader

Genre : Angst

Subtags : Unrequited Love, Untold Feelings,

A/N : SURPRISE! bet you didn’t expect this huh? 🤭 pls do let me know your thoughts. Also, I’m sorry in advance 🥹🙏

Summary : Off Time - retold in Max’s perspective

Masterlist

Series : Off Time , On the Defence , Playing Offense

Max couldn’t exactly pinpoint where he started seeing Y/N L/N in a new and different light. Max always saw you around but he didn’t exactly pay attention to your presence. But now? he was hyper-aware whenever you were near or when someone said your name.

Max knew that nursing feelings for you was not smart, not at all. Everyone knew that you were Lando’s girl — even when Lando himself gave you no time of the day. Even more so he, himself was in a serious long-term relationship!

Maybe it all started a year back when the rain had been pouring in Silverstone and you were stuck in the Red Bull motorhome after your one-on-one interview together.

Everything was all smiles and the mood was cozy and warm, the two of you were just lounging waiting for the rain to subside. Till suddenly you looked at your phone, and your smile fell.

Max was about to ask what was wrong when you suddenly stood up, held his hand and pulled him up from the couch.

“Max come play in the rain with me” Max was taken aback. Not by your request, but by the amount of emotions that filled your eyes. It held pain, but your smile held courage and bravery.

To Max, you looked dazzling. He admired the strength you held. A strength that he wished he had when he was still a young boy.

Max indulged your craziness. As the two of you stepped out into the rain and the water soaked you both, Max couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Your arms were spread wide as you ran circles around Max, then suddenly stopped and squatted down. It reminded Max of the ducks from his childhood; one of the few good memories he had then.

“What are you doing Little Duck?” Max couldn’t help but ask as he squatted down beside you. People were looking at the two of you weirdly — but that didn’t matter.

“ Max, would you date me?” Your question stirred something in Max. He knew that he shouldn’t entertain such questions or thoughts, but he did.

“What do you mean?” Max asked carefully examining you, while you still stared at the ground.

“Hypothetically, would you date me?” You asked again, now looking deep into his eyes.

“Never mind, don’t answer that”

Max was thankful that you cut him before he could answer because it scared him how much the answer was an astounding “YES”.

You suddenly stood up and looked up at the sky— feeling the rain pelting down on your face. Smiling at nothing in particular.

Max was once again mesmerized at the sight of you. His heart beating faster as you gazed down at him and offered your hand for him to hold.

“Thank you, Max… I needed this” You thanked the Dutch.

“Always, Y/N. Always” Max smiled back and it was now his turn to pull you back into the Motorhome — where soft and warm towels were waiting for you.

Or maybe it was during the FIA gala when you both came dateless. Max without Kelly because she was off on a photoshoot in Milan, and you… well, you were hopeful that Lando would’ve asked you.

Max saw you gazing at Lando and the date that he came with; you looked like a kicked puppy as you tried to smile through the pain.

Max knew that he needed to do something and take your pain away. Max stood from his seat and went to you. People were once again giving lingering glances at the man of the night, The year’s World Champion who was looking determined as he pushed past the crowd.

When Max offered you a hand, your eyes drifted up to meet his. Your eyes were glazed with unshed tears and your brows scrunching up with confusion. Max only smiled and offered his hand once more, which you reluctantly took.

He led you to the middle of the room, as the live orchestra started playing “I See the Light”

Max saw how your eyes shone as you recognized the song. A soft smile gracing your face as the two of you swayed together to the beat as Max held you gently.

“Thank you, Max. Really” You whispered as your head tilted up to look into the blue eyes of the driver.

Max was awestruck with you. Your dress made you look even more beautiful under the dimmed lights. You were an angel sent amongst mere mortals here.

“ He doesn’t deserve you” Max had suddenly voiced out, surprising you both. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but he did and Max stands by what he said.

“I-, I know, but I can’t help it you know?” You said as you gazed at Lando once more. Max felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in his gut, but paying it no mind as he focused on you. Only on you

Max then twirled you out and back to him, successfully distracting you from the British driver.

Max Verstappen knew that what he was doing was dangerous and he was asking for heartache — it was clear as day where your heart lay. But he did not care because having you in his arms now was more than enough.

The night ended with Max dropping you off at your hotel door. You gave him one last smile, bid him goodbye and thanked him for everything — then laying a peck on his cheek. It was meant to be friendly— but to Max that was a sign that he needed to confirm to himself. Max Verstappen had fallen for you.

Max’s drive back to his hotel had him all over his thoughts. He needed to end things off with Kelly— it wasn’t fair for her when Max knew that someone else held his heart.

And break up with her, he did. But not before the news of his dance with you during the gala caught Kelly’s ears. She was furious, but she saw it coming … she did know Max; their years together allowed her that. Kelly knew that she was losing him even before Max knew himself.

Even then when Max was free to pursue whoever he liked, he chose to wait for you. Max had hope that you’d give up on Lando. Yet he would never pressure you to move on from the British driver who was also Max’s closest mate on the grid. Because it was your happiness that was the most important.

But Max was only patient when it came to you. When it came to other matters — Max was his usual assertive and hardheaded self. If he can’t rush you… he had other ways.

“Mate, are you not interested in Y/N?” Max quizzed Lando.

“Even you mate?? Why does everyone ask me that? No, I don’t like Y/N. I’m seeing someone else. Happy?” Lando could only shake his head in denial.

Happy? Indeed Max was happy. Lando was out of the picture and it was only up to Y/N. And the heavens had heard Max’s prayers— when Y/N had then started to distance herself from Lando.

Yet that only lasted for a while, because just like the rest of humanity — Lando finally saw Y/N in the same light that Max saw her.

Max knew that Lando was still the same person he knew, he was still one of his best mates— but Max couldn’t help but hold grudges against him.

Lando had now started being possessive with you— as if he owned you. It was as if the past where he didn’t care for you was erased into nothingness. Max remembered every tear you shed for the British driver.

Yet, Max’s heart was set on whatever you decided. You held his heart even though you didn’t know. It was yours to crush. Max was ready for you to break his heart into pieces just as much as you’d like.

And break it you did, even if you weren’t aware that you did — Max’s heart broke nonetheless.

You were late for your interview with Him and Checo. Although it has only been minutes, Max was worried about you; much so that he looked for you himself.

And there you were, In front of McLaren’s Motorhome. Max felt his heart crack — but he smiled nonetheless as he went near you.

“What are you doing, little duck??” Max asked. But he knew exactly what you were doing.

“I came looking for you, dummy! you’re late. What are you doing here just standing” Max lowered his head by bending his waist— leveling his eye with yours.

Max pretended to act dumb for a second, as he glanced at the glaringly orange motorhome.

No matter how much control Max had, he was just a man whose frustration was impossible to avoid.

“Oh, I see. It’s Lando again. Oh…Y/N. I wished you weren’t this blind. Others’d love to have you” Max muttered — it appeared that you didn’t hear the last part that he said. Max wasn’t sure to be thankful or annoyed.

“ What?? speak up, dude! I don’t know how Kelly puts up with you.” You asked. Max felt like he was punched in the stomach. Not from hearing the name of his Ex — but at your lack of awareness. Here he was offering you his heart, and there you were thinking that he was committed to someone else.

“Y/N. Kelly and I broke up months ago.” Max could only say; as he forced his face to put up a casual facade — and it came easily from the years of practice he had.

“What?! how?! why?!” You could only ask startled by the revelation.

BECAUSE OF YOU! Y/N L/N. YOU! FUCKING HELL, I LOVE YOU! Max wished he could scream it to the world. Max wished that he could scream it to you.

But he didn’t. Instead, he said “Never mind that you nosy little thing. We’re late!” and he pulled you in the direction of their motorhome.

Apparently, Lando wasn’t as ignorant of Max’s feelings towards you.

“Mate, do you like Y/N?” Lando asked without any added words.

“Yes, I do” Max replied directly to Lando not holding anything back.

“What?? What the fuck Max… how could you?! I love her!! I was here first” Lando was suddenly all up in Max’s space - demanding an explanation.

Max could only scoff as he pushed the McLaren driver off of him and away from his space. He couldn’t believe the audacity of the man.

“ Bullshit! you were only there because you were afraid that someone else wanted her!” Max exploded, as the memories of you crying because of the man in front of him.

Lando was speechless for some time; he knew to himself that was true. He only saw you when he lost you.

“ That may be true, but I love her now! and she loves me. You and I know it! Don’t make things harder for Y/N, don’t make her choose … because I’m not backing down.” Lando shouted his monologue then left right after — not even waiting for a reply from the Dutch Driver.

Max knew that his love for you was true and he couldn’t bear for you to be in pain. So if choosing between Him and Lando would do that — he was willing to give the chance up just to see you smile even if it wasn’t with him.

Max says that, but he didn’t expect just how much it hurts to see from afar. Max saw everything and he couldn’t look away because even if you were with Lando … at least he could still see you happy. Even if it wasn’t him who made you smile.

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[lady-phasma]

Martyrdom

The Vampire Armand x gn!reader

Warnings: not that many really, tragically over-dramatic comfort, implied canon trauma if you know a little about Armand’s history (book or series)

Summary: 1k words of 🥺 and comforting our beautiful monster.

a/n: so yeah, I had to work out some stuff between 2.07 and 2.08 because Armand needs some comfort. This is the most melodramatic thing I have ever written. This was going to be fem!reader but then it really wasn’t important to the comfort so it became gn!reader.

Armand didn’t stir as you walked in. His head was bowed, iPad balanced in one hand, tapping at the screen with the other. His dark curls framed his face. You knew he heard you, of course he did, but whatever was happening on his tablet was engrossing. You walked behind the sofa and rested your head on his shoulder. A glance at the screen showed you an online art auction. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss his neck, ear, and cheek. His singular focus wasn’t unusual but when you looked back at his iPad you saw the thumbnail and item description.

The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian - Marius de Romanus

You straightened up and let your hand linger on his shoulder for a moment. He wouldn’t move from that spot until he owned the painting.

When the bidding was closed he found you in the bedroom on your own iPad. You looked up as he walked in. The blank expression he wore was a familiar sight. He didn’t look sad or dejected as others might. Sometimes he simply didn’t emote. But his eyes would betray him. He didn’t make eye contact with you right away. However, he wouldn’t have come to you if he wanted to be alone.

He thought often, spoke less, about broken things, people he had loved. He rarely spoke of those who had broken him. Sometimes you caught a glimpse of him when he felt unobserved and the vacancy in his eyes would be filled with regret and remorse.

“You own a new painting?” You asked with no inflection. You closed the iPad’s cover and set it on the night stand as he sat on his side of the bed. His back was to you, shoulders stiff.

“Yes.”

“When will it arrive?” You didn’t really need to know, but wanted him to know you understood the significance.

“Approximately 4-6 weeks,” his tone was flat. “Possibly sooner.”

“When was the last time you saw it?”

“500 years ago, give or take.”

“‘Give or take?’” He couldn’t see your raised brows.

“492, I believe.” His shoulders slumped slightly.

“What’s the provenance?” You didn’t expect him to answer.

“Venice, Milan, Prague, a few years unaccounted for, then Berlin,” his tone had changed. Rather, there was now tone to his words. The mildest hint of pain colored the city names. It had changed so many hands. It wasn’t rare for a painting to have been sold before the fire. It was the nature of the painting and who you could assume may have commissioned it, that concerned you. Possibly it was for the Church, but more likely for a private patron. Even so, had it been in a church, a museum? Hundreds of eyes moved by the martyrdom of a real boy who they would never think about. Did they even think of the model for Sebastian at all or only of the saint and his ecstasy? If Armand had wanted you to know that a public institution had once held it he would have said. You didn’t press.

You watched him as he slipped off his shoes and turned to sit more comfortably. His long fingers toyed with the crease of his pant leg. He stared off, looking at nothing, for a moment. Then he turned to you. Your heart ached for him. It did from time to time when he would casually mention something from his past, but this was different. You had only seen an expression like this a couple times before. You looked at him, unsmiling, but with a soft gaze, no judgement. For a moment he looked as if he would speak then he closed his mouth, his lips forming a tight line.

Armand wanted to tell you about the nausea he felt, a peculiar feeling, increasingly rare at his age, when the alert had appeared on his phone. He wanted to tell you that he even had an alert for Marius’s name, but he couldn’t. He had never told you everything, there was far too much to tell. But he had told you the broad strokes. He felt he might never tell anyone all of the details, those he could remember, except in the rare moments of weakness when he was jealous of Louis’s and Lestat’s ability to reveal everything.

You sat up straighter and moved toward him. You gently touched his face. He leaned into your hand as you cupped his cheek. His brow furrowed slightly and he closed his eyes. You stroked his cheek with your thumb. You let your hand slide down to his neck. He sighed quietly and when he opened his eyes to look at you, he became every bit the ancient creature trapped in a young man’s body. Every wrong done, every hurt inflicted, every lie told, by him and to him, turbulent beneath his ageless façade. Over 500 years of mistakes, violence, atonement, none of it truly forgotten.

Your fingers gently caressed the back of his neck as you held his gaze. You couldn’t conceal the expression on your face, the compassion and disconsolation. Slowly you moved your hand to his shoulder and guided him toward you. Armand gave in. He rested his head in your lap, his body folded up alongside your outstretched legs. You leaned back against the pillows and headboard. One hand automatically began stroking his hair, smoothing it back from his face. The other lay against his back, making small circles with your fingers against his shoulder blade.

He felt his shoulders relax first, then the tightness in his chest began to fade. He hadn’t realized tears had started to well in his eyes until he closed them. None came, but he was unsure how long they would stay away this time. He sighed heavily and let himself soften against you. Your steady, consistent movements were a balm to the raging of conflicting emotions inside him. He would think of them another day, perhaps when the painting arrived. Now, in this moment, he could rest.

Note about the painting: The Martyrdom of St. Sebastian, Marco Basaiti (active 1496-1530 in Venice), located in Santa Maria della Salute, Venice

Masterlist

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do one for Checo with wife reader? He's not getting enough love. Just something fluff and romantic. You decide how it goes. Thanks!!

No es suficiente! Sergio Perez x ActressWife! Reader

Plot: Sergio having just married you wanted to show you of in the Red Bull Garage, but you feel so happy to be back after being so busy in your own career that everyone is dying to talk to you and someone gets a little jealous.

It was your first time back in the paddock for around a year. You'd been away for a large period of time, between filming for an up and coming blockbuster and being in an ongoing TV show you had a tight schedule and only was able to see your husband when he had breaks.

He helped you scan your paddock pass and then placed a gentle hand on the small of your back.

"Are you excited?" he asks you as he looked over to you, the media noticed the pair of you walk through and were quick to snap pictures of your return to the paddock.

"Yes, I cannot wait to see everyone! I haven't seen Lance or Max in ages!" You admit, knowing you hadn’t really seen his friends in a while.

“Good!”

Before you know it you’ve been thrusted back into the world of F1, all the cameras and the people wanting to talk, the smells coming from the hospitalities and the cars. It was an introverts nightmare.

However, Sergio always knew you were a people person despite your social battery draining quicker than most people’s. You loved the hustle and bustle life that came with being on track and with Sergio.

Whether you were off chatting to Will Buxton about his latest Drive to Survive meme, or hunting down Crofty timo interrupt his grid walk, or chatting to the mechanics in the garage about the car, to finalise it all up speaking with Christian about Max and Sergio.

Today was a little different, you were feeling anxious where it was your first day back in a while. However the minute you and your husband walked into the garage he’d been whisked away along with Max by their race engineers towards the big bosses office.

You and Kelly not having seen each other in so long decided it would be nice considering it was media day and there was no actual racing if you guys rounded up some of the other wags and did a little shopping.

You guys ventured from Red Bull to some of the other paddocks on the hunt for the other girlies. You stumbled upon Lily, Alexandra, Rebecca and Kika who all decided they were down for some shopping to save the boredom that was media day.

You guys hit Milan central getting a train down from Monza. There were some fans around who excitedly asked for pictures. You guys all obliged before getting on with the day and going into the different high end stores.

By the end, you guys had taken the phrase ‘shop till you drop’ far to literally. You all travelled back to the hotel that you were staying in courtesy of the team in which their partner drove for. The bags were placed on the coffee table and sofa in the living area of the room.

Kelly had a separate room for her and P because she was doing a fashion show in Milan on the Monday and Tuesday after the races, so she had a lot of cases with her because of the clothes and shoes and just general space she would need. So when she invited you back for a girlie sleepover with her and P you couldn’t decline.

Sending a quick text to your husband who was still at the racetrack you left the room straight to Kelly’s which was only a few doors down. P answered the door which to Kelly’s dismay who was currently in the bathroom taking her makeup off before she could even get to the door.

“We don’t answer the door, it could have been a stranger Penelope!” She lightly scolds, the younger girl not caring to much and pulling you into a hug.

“Awwww hello P” you sigh hugging her back beofre picking her up and placing her on your hip.

“Are you going to let me do your hair tonight while we watch a Disney movie!” You ask and Ps eyes light up with excitement.

“Let me guess, the little mermaid?” You ask her and she nods furiously going towards the controller in the room to pull up what you assumed would be Disney +.

You spent the rest of the night with the daughter mother duo, doing facials, watching films and ordering an obscene amount of desserts from room service.

The next day you woke up and went to your room to see if Sergio would join you for breakfast but the room was empty, bed all screwed up and unmade showing you your husband had in fact come home last night.

You sit alone for breakfast which was nice, just to be able to think on your own thoughts for some time. Most of them being about your new movie, or the TV show and how to develop your character.

You took and Uber to the race track not wanting to be rudely late for FP1, wanting to support your husband. As you got there, running through the paddocks gates and mumbling profanities at the electronic gate which wouldn’t let you in after 4 attempts on your pass, you spotted Sergio.

“Hola, good night with Kelly?” He smiles at you, kissing your cheek lightly. You nod and open your mouth about to say something but his race engineer calls out for him pointing towards the garage entrance.

“Go, don’t want to be late on the job now!” You home and he just laughs lightly shaking his head before turning away and running out the the garage where his car was.

You stood with Kelly watching your boys drive. It felt like forever that Sergio was in the car, but again the minute he got out he was whisked away to a debrief with what went wrong with the car.

That was how the rest of the weekend went, whenever you had free time it felt like he was being taken away for important meeting, interviews and various media commitments and when he was free you were either on the phone with work or had organised to do something with the girls because you thought he was busy at that time but due to scheduling mixups he was actually free and refused to let you cancel on the girls.

It got to Sunday night after the race. Sergio had come in P2 behind Max and with Carlos just behind him. He’d had a great drive and you couldn’t have been prouder to celebrate his podium with him.

You were in the hotel room together, you’d just gotten out the shower and into night wear, he was laying on the bed, in his pijama pants and shirtless like normal.

You jumped onto the bed curling up into his side pulling him so as much as your skin was touching his.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you for ages mi amor” you voice before tilting your head that was laying in his chest to look up up him.

“Mmmmm No es suficiente!” He mumbles looking down at you. (It’s not sufficient!)

“What isn’t?” You ask perplexed.

“The time I had with you this weekend, not enough of it. I brought you here to spend more time with you and everyone didn’t want to see us together” he sighs pulling you closer with a pout on his face. On camera your husband didn’t seem like the clingy type but boy of boy was he.

“Argh you big baby, I’m not filming for another 5 weeks so your stuck with me all this time. This week was just unfortunate” you smile pulling him into a soft kiss which he quickly returns.

“God I missed this, just you” he smiles softly before pulling you into another kiss.

“Is this making up for it?” You offer smirking slightly knowing now that you were giving him the attention he was craving he was happy.

“Mmm im considering kidnapping you, so you have to spend all your time with me!” He groans pulling you over so your straddling him and laying in his chest on top of him.

“But who will be the lead in your current favourite TV show?” You gasp playfully.

“No way! Ellen Pompeo is leaving Greys?” He teases, knowing it would tule you up. You slap his shoulder lightly looking down at him.

“Mmmm im sure they could find someone to replace you if I kept you all for myself!” He teases again and you laugh this time.

“Mmmm and I’m sure if I kidnapped you Red Bull would too!” You tease back and he gasps in mock shock hand to his chest.

“Well seeing as we both seem to be staying respectively in our professions… I suggest we order room service!” You smile again, pulling him in for a kiss. He nods, rolling you off and getting up towards where the phone is on the desk. You watch as he used his hands to motion around as he talks to the receptionist on the phone.

You were so completely and utterly in love.

A/N: short and sweet! Hope you enjoy!

Taglist:

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[pop-pop-pop-popculture]

I think the clothes the models wore for the AVAVAV show was already powerful enough on it's own. They creative director literally could've just had them walk down the runway with the "trash" already on it! There was no need to allow the audience to throw garbage at them- it's not creative at all! If I was a model walking down the runwauy I'd be mortified and honestly cry.

Great idea! I don't understand how the models were okay with that concept...

[whorekneecentral]

Ho Ho Hoe

Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Warnings: last minute packing, some friendly teasing, christmas related underwear, cheesy pick up lines sorta, oliver takes the blame, christian is just as cheesy, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving),dom!chris for a second, face sitting, praise kink from chris's end.

Word Count: 2,033

Author's Note: when I was plotting these out, pookie said this one suited chris and I couldn't agree more. he's so dorky, it fits him to a t lmao

merry smutmas series

--

You find a pair of Christmas boxers in Christian’s suitcase and decide to tease him about it. 

The Pulisic family had been celebrating the holidays in Florida every year and this year you'd be joining them.

You are an instant shoo in from the moment you began dating Christian five years ago. Both his sister and his mother saw how quickly you adapted to their family and to their traditions, which is something that they really, truly loved about you. Along the way, you sprinkled in a few of your old little traditions that you did with your family.

Last year, you and Christian had spent the holidays with your family. The two of you rotate every year between the holidays, that way the families don't feel you're picking one over the other.

You were on the floor of your bedroom as you tried to re-pack the suitcase that Christian had 'packed', but really just tossed everything into. You'd be flying from Milan to Florida in 3 days so you were trying to get as much as you could done.

He was on his way home from training, his phone in the little holder as he called you.

"You're the fucking worst at packing," you start the moment you answer the phone. Christian laughs, "hello to you too, sweetheart. Why am I getting yelled at?"

You huff, the phone was on speaker and rested on your thigh as you refolded the clothes. "I have to repack the suitcase, not like you even packed it to begin with."

"I did too! I put everything in!"

"Yeah, just tossed it in. How are you meant to find anything or even fit everything in like this?"

You can already tell he's rolling his eyes. "Anyways," he starts, "did you eat? shall I pick up dinner?"

"Yeah, please." You smiled, folding the boxers you found and put them in a nice pile. You listened to your boyfriend rattle on the diner options when you fished out the bright green boxers with candy canes on it from the suitcase.

It struck you as odd, Christian wasn't one for bright colours; he stuck to the usual colours of navy blue, black and grey.

"Yeah sure, pasta's fine." You tell him, setting the boxers to the side. "See you in a bit."

You continue to repack the suitcase, folding the clothes neatly and tightly to fit as much as you can into the suitcase. It was maybe half an hour later when the front door opens and you hear your boyfriend shouting for you.

"In the bedroom!" You shouted back.

Christian smiles at you when he finds you, "hi beautiful."

"Hello you, how was training?"

"Good, tiring." He says, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at you on the floor. "How's the packing going?"

"Good, tiring." You tell him, "I didn't know you were a fan of bright colours though."

Christian raises an eyebrow, looking at you a bit confused. "What are you talking about?"

You hold up the bright green boxers with candy canes on it, "where'd you get these?" You asked, giggling. Christian's face goes bright red, his cheeks and the tips of his ears as red as a McIntosh apple.

"I.. I bought them as a joke. Oliver said he bought a pair last year and his wife loved them."

"So now you're getting sex advice from Oliver?"

"What?! No!"

You laughed, your boyfriend's face still as red as it was before, maybe never more. "Well, they made me laugh."

Chris smiles, "did you see what they say?"

You looked closer at the boxers, between the candy canes says 'suck me like a candy cane.' You think you laughed so hard you snorted, Christian smiles at your reaction.

"You're so unserious." You tossed the boxers at him, making him laugh. Christian kisses the top of your head, dropping the boxers on the bed. "Dinner's on the table, I'm gonna take a shower."

Holding onto Christian's legs, you pull yourself up. "You're not hungry?"

"I'll eat later, go on before it gets cold." Your boyfriend kisses you softly and lets you go.

Dinner was eaten quietly, christian taking his sweet time into the shower before joining you nearly an hour later, shirtless and sweatpants handing off his hips.

Thumb pushing against your teeth, you hummed as you watched him plop himself down on the couch next to you.

"What?" He asks, arm stretched over the backrest of the couch.

"Nothing," you smiled, scooting closer to your boyfriend.

Your head rested on his chest, the two of you watching the cheesy holiday movie you had put on. An arm stretched over his abs, fingers delicately tracing over the indented lines along his skin, moving over to his forearm. His tiger tattoo has always been one of your favourites, your nail pressing into the ink as you moved from one detail to the other.

Christian notices your hand, not thinking much of it; this was a normal thing for you two, your hands were always on him. It wasn't until he felt your hand move from his arm to his hip, fingers creeping closer to the hem of his sweatpants that he stopped you.

"Don't even think about it." His hand catches you, hand wrapped around your wrist.

You huffed. "Why not?"

"I'm trying to watch the movie."

"They all end the same way, a kiss in the snow." You tell him and Christian rolls his eyes, "way to ruin it for me."

You press your lips together, biting back a laugh. Christian lets go to your hand, letting it rest over his lap. That was his mistake. Your hands wander, as they always do, rubbing along his thigh and up to the bulge in his pants.

As much as he tries to ignore you, he can't. Christian's head tips back into the couch, a soft groan slipping past his lips.

"What happened to don't even think about it?" You teased, moving to sit between his legs. Christian rolls his eyes, dropping a pillow onto the floor for you.

He mumbles, telling you to shut up as you reach for the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down. The last thing you were expecting to come face to face with was bright green boxers with candy canes on them.

"You're fucking joking," you laughed, looking up at him. "They were already on the bed, babe. What was I supposed to do?"

"Get a pair from the drawer?" You suggested, laughing at him. "I cannot take you seriously."

Christian takes matters into his own hands, taking them off and tossing it behind him somewhere. "Okay gone now, c'mon."

"You're so demanding," you laughed.

He nods, giving you a tight lipped smile watching as you lean forward with your mouth open, tongue out and Christian bites back a groan; doesn’t matter how many times he sees you like that, you look perfect every time. 

No matter how much he tries, he can’t pull his eyes away from you. His head tilting back at the feeling of your mouth on him, your hand wrapped around what can’t fit. 

Your tongue swirled around the tip, hand slowing up and down the length of his cock in the meantime. 

Chris's hand tangles in your hair, holding it away from your face as you take all of him in your mouth. He sighs, a string of explicits slipping past his lips. 

You glance up at him through your lashes and that was enough to make him cum but he held off, because he knew you’d tease him if he did even if you did tell him it was okay. 

“Made just for me, weren't you?” He mumbles, his hand rests on your jaw. His hand turns over and you feel his knuckles brush along your cheek. “Like being on your knees for me, hm? Good girl.” 

The praise hits you straight in the core, only making you go faster.

Your cheeks hollow as you bob your head up and down. Christian's hips buck, your nose brushing against him. 

He tugs on your hair a little, taking control of your movements before pushing you down all the way, only stopping until he hears you gag slightly. His head falls back against the cushions, your name along with a few other words tumble out as you glance up at your boyfriend once more. 

You can feel his cum on your tongue before you pull off of him with a pop. 

Still on your knees, your eyes are on the man as he takes a few breaths. His hand caresses your jaw for a few moments before he pulls you up and onto his lap. 

"I love you, you know that?" He whispers, nose pressed into your temple. You hum, "you've gotta get rid of those."

"What?" He asks, looking at you.

You point to the green boxers that were on the floor. Christian laughs, "yeah okay, babe. Whatever you say."

Your boyfriend falls flat against the couch, laying down and you look at him a bit confused, "was it that good? Got you exhausted now?"

Christian rolls his eyes playfully, pulling you to lay flat against him. He looks at you, there's a glint in his eyes, something you only saw when he was up to something.

"What?"

"Sit on my face."

Your eyes widen, sitting up on his lap. "What?"

His brows furrow, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you as he's unsure what the confusion was about. "Did you not hear me?" He asks, "I said sit on my face."

"What? Why ?"

"I'm returning the favour, now come on."

Christian lays back and you’re still on his lap. “Come on then,” he smacks the back of your thigh lightly. “Come sit.” 

You find yourself wiggling out of your shorts as you move back to sit on his face. Thighs on either side of his head, you weren't fully on his face but his hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further down. 

“I told you sit so fucking sit.” He mumbles from under you. 

His large hands rested on the back of your thigh, pulling you down flat against his face, his tongue pressed against your slit. 

Your body rocks, leaning forwards and your fingers tangle in his short, curly hair. 

Christian's tongue curled upwards, brushing against your clit and you tug on his hair, something incoherent meets his ears - partly because he was focused on what he was doing but also because your thighs were squishing his face. 

"Chris," you mumbled, your chest heaving while you tug on his hair to get him to do that again. "Do that- yeah fuck."

His tongue doing figure eights over your clit. 

The grip on your thighs would leave marks as would the stubble coming on along his jaw that was scratching at the inside of your thighs. He rocked you a bit, his nose brushing against your clit, his tongue moving down to lap over your cunt. 

He glances up, his eyes fixed on your hand on your tit, head tossed back and mouth open. His name slips past your lips like a prayer. 

“You're so beautiful,” he mumbles against you, nose brushing at your clit as you grind down on his face again. 

Your legs shake for a moment, your grinding halts as you cum on his tongue. Christian's hands hold you in place, his tongue still lapping over your clit and his lips replace them a moment later. 

He lets you shift off his face in your own time, laying down on his chest. Your chin rests on his chest as you look up at him, your fingers dragging across his lips. He smiles, letting you slip your finger into his mouth, biting it softly before you pull it away.

His hand resting on your lower back as you reach up to kiss him. 

You can taste yourself on his lips and your hand on his jaw, rubbing along the stubble in his jaw. "See if I had bought these boxers, you wouldn't have gotten all that."

"Untrue, you can't keep your hands off of me." You reminded him, the man's cheeks now red and he laughs. "Yeah, you're right." He whispers, kissing you.

---

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