#... it's fun to drive okay and it goes fast

[pucksandpower]

La Regina

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Charles Leclerc x Schumacher!Reader

Summary: a girl raised at her father’s knee goes from rising star to princess to queen (or in which becoming a legend runs in the Schumacher family)

You bounce excitedly in the passenger seat of your papa’s car as he pulls into the parking lot of the karting track. At 5-years-old, you’re too young to race officially, but he promised to let you drive some practice laps after the scheduled competition today.

“Remember, Maus, listen closely to the instructors and stay safe out there,” Michael says, ruffling your hair affectionately before getting out.

You scramble out after him, having to jog to keep up with his long strides across the parking lot. You reach to take his hand, but freeze when a small crowd starts converging around your papa. Men in bright vests are rushing over, cameras flashing rapidly.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” You ask, startled by the commotion.

Before Michael can respond, a curly-haired woman thrusts a baby into his arms. “Oh my god, can you just hold her for one second? I need a picture!”

Your papa looks bewildered but graciously cradles the infant, giving an awkward smile as more and more people start shoving pieces of paper and pens in front of him.

“Excuse me, please, I have my daughter with me today,” he tries saying over the chaos, but no one is listening.

You shrink back, overwhelmed by the pushing crowd and flurry of voices pleading for autographs and photos. Where did all these people come from? This has never happened before when you’ve gone karting with your papa.

Sensing your unease, Michael gently passes the baby back to its mother and kneels down in front of you. “Hey, it’s okay, Maus. Why don’t you wait for me over there?” He gestures to a bench off to the side.

Part of you wants to cling to him, scared of all the strangers crowding around so aggressively. But you also don’t want him to have to worry about you on top of everything else. You nod bravely and make your way through the throng to the little bench, watching apprehensively as your papa tries politely handling the requests.

After what feels like forever, the crowd finally starts dispersing, though a few linger behind like stubborn cats begging for scraps. Michael shakes the last few hands and accepts some papers to sign before gratefully escaping over to you.

“I’m so sorry about that, Maus,” he says, looking apologetic as he plops down on the bench. “I didn’t expect such a scene on what’s supposed to be our fun day.”

“It’s okay, Papa.” You lean against his side, still a bit rattled but comforted by his familiar warmth. “Who were all those people? Why did they want your … uhh …“ You can’t quite remember the word for the scribbles people ask famous people for.

“Autographs,” Michael supplies with an amused chuckle, wrapping an arm around you. “And they wanted photos too, I suppose. I’m … well, I’m quite a famous racecar driver.”

You cock your head, trying to process this concept of your papa being some kind of celebrity. As far as you’re concerned, he’s just your goofy, loving dad who takes you karting and makes the silliest voices for all your stuffed animals at home.

“Really? Like the famous famous people on TV?” You’ve seen the paparazzi swarming the actors and musicians during awards shows, but you’d never imagined that could happen to your own papa.

Michael nods, drawing you closer with a squeeze. “Yes, somewhat like that, though it’s a bit excessive at a small karting event.” He laughs again and brushes some of your wayward hair from your face. “But you’re right, to you I’m just Papa. I don’t expect anything more from my favorite Maus.”

You beam at the affectionate nickname, all the earlier stress melting away. Who cares if strangers want your papa’s autograph or photos? All that matters is you two spending the day together like always.

“Can we go get our karts now?” You ask eagerly, bouncing a little on the bench. “I want to show you how fast I can go!”

“Of course!” Michael jumps up and scoops you into his arms with a playful growl, making you shriek giddily. “My little speed demon is going to leave me in the dust.”

He swings you up onto his shoulders and you cling on tightly as he strides toward the pit area. A few more people spot him and make a move closer with cameras and sharpies extended, but seem to think better of it when they see you perched up high.

The two of you spend the next couple hours karting together, trading places taking warm up laps and cheering each other on. At one point, a young attendant working the pit area approaches Michael somewhat nervously.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Schumacher?” He’s clutching a crumpled baseball cap in one hand, ducking his head shyly. “I’m just such a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo and signing this for me after your session?”

Your papa smiles kindly at the young man and takes the cap. “Not at all, no problem.” As the attendant walks away, looking elated, Michael turns to you with a wink. “See? That’s how you politely ask for an autograph.”

You giggle and mime zipping your lips. “Don’t worry, Papa, I won’t let the fame go to my head when I’m a famous racecar driver too someday.”

Scooping you up once more, Michael presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “That’s my girl. Now, last few laps — let’s see who can go the fastest without ending up in the grass!”

As evening starts falling, the two of you make your way back through the now nearly deserted lot after returning the rental karts. Most of the other karters have cleared out, leaving just you two strolling unhurriedly back to the car.

“Well Maus, despite the, uh, overexcited fans, I’d call this day a success,” Michael says, swinging your joined hands idly. “We both had our fun on the track, and I think you handled that crowd back there like a champ.”

You smile up at him, still so proud just to be his daughter. “I don’t care about all those other people, papa. As long as I have you, that’s all I need.”

Stopping beside the car, Michael crouches down and cups your face in his calloused racing palms, looking at you with such fierce adoration.

“Maus, you have me, always. No matter what happens out there,” he gestures vaguely at the empty track, “When I’m with you, I’m just Papa. My greatest accomplishment, my biggest award, is being your father. Verstanden?”

You launch yourself into his arms, hugging as tightly as you can. “Verstanden, Papa. I love you.”

“Ich liebe dich mehr, Maus,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek to your hair. “Now, what do you say we go get some victory ice cream?”

As the two of you climb into the car, you can’t keep the smile off your face, practically glowing with contentment. Sure, maybe your papa is some big famous racecar driver that everybody wants a piece of. But really, he’s just your papa — and you’re his whole world.

***

The ringing of the house phone cuts through the tense silence like a knife. You shrink further into the couch cushions as your mother rushes to answer it, shoulders visibly taut.

“Hello? No, I cannot make any comment at this time. Yes, I understand there is interest but-” Corinna breaks off, rubbing her temples wearily. “Please respect our privacy as a family right now. Thank you.”

She hangs up and leans against the wall, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. Before she can even draw a full breath, the phone rings again, shrill and insistent. With a muffled curse, your mother snatches it up.

“What? I told you, I cannot give any statements! This is a private matter. How did you even get this number?”

You watch apprehensively as she responds again, her voice rising in distress. In the days since your papa’s skiing accident, it seems like the entire world has been hounding your family, desperate for any scrap of information.

On the TV across the room, the endless cycle of news reports drones on lowly. Images of your papa’s broken, still body being rushed from the slopes into a helicopter. Flashing advancer texts speculating on his chances of recovery from the traumatic head injury.

It makes you feel ill.

Beside you on the couch, Mick sits blank-faced, looking nearly as pale and worn as your mother. At 14, he understands the gravity of the situation all too well. Your big brother has always idolized your papa, hoping to follow in his racing footsteps one day as well. The thought of him not being there to see the realization of that dream is devastating.

Gina is curled up in the armchair, her shoulders shaking every so often with muffled sobs. At 16, she’s arguably been taking this the hardest of all you kids. She keeps her face stoically dry in front of your mother, but you can see how red and puffy her eyes are from constant crying.

As for you, at 11-years-old, you’re somehow both numb and feeling everything all at once. Part of you still can’t fully process that this nightmare is real. That your hero, your papa, could be lying comatose in a hospital, hovering between life and death. The other part of you is overwhelmed in a tsunami of terror, panic, anger, sadness — any and every emotion crashing through you at all hours.

“Kids, I’m so sorry about this,” your mother says, defeated, as she rejoins you in the living room after ending her latest call. The bags under her eyes seem to have deepened further overnight. “I know this is incredibly difficult and intrusive. But your papa is … he’s a public figure. People are concerned.”

“Incredibly insensitive is what they’re being,” Gina spits, uncurling herself from the chair enough to shoot your mother a resentful look. “We’re going through actual hell and all these people care about is getting a sound bite for the evening news!”

Corinna looks pained but doesn’t rebuke her. “I know, liebling, I know. But your papa has millions of fans all over the world who have followed his career for decades. Whether we like it or not, they care about him … and about us by extension.”

You think back to that day at the karting track all those years ago when you first realized your papa was what people called “famous”. How all those strangers clamored around him so aggressively just for a photo or an autograph. That level of fandom seemed exciting and novel at the time, when you were just a naïve 5-year-old. Now you see it for how intrusive and violating it is, this sense of entitlement people have to the private life of a public figure.

The phone starts ringing again, shattering the fragile quiet. Your mother squeezes her eyes shut and makes no move to get it this time. After four rings, the call goes to voicemail. A moment later, the tinny sound of an Italian voicemail being left blares through the speaker.

“Scusi, scusi, please, if there is any update on the condition of the great Michael Schumacher, any information at all! We are all holding vigils and saying prayers, but we must know how he fares! The world is watching and waiting!”

The words, pleading and demanding all at once, are like a slap across your face. The man’s voice is laced with such desperation, as if your papa’s life is mere entertainment to be consumedby the masses. You feel abruptly furious, incensed that a stranger’s morbid curiosity is given the same weight as your family’s anguish.

“Turn it off,” Mick mutters through clenched teeth, hunching over on the couch. “Just turn it off, Mama.”

Corinna nods numbly and reaches to end the voicemail, her mouth set in a grim line. Buzzing fills the room again as the TV drones on, the reporters’ voices a dull roar that you can no longer discern actual words from as your ears ring with white noise.

The shrill ringing of the phone cuts through once more, like a record scratching in your brain. Your mother flinches violently, hands coming up to clamp over her ears as she squeezes her eyes shut, finally at her breaking point.

Unable to watch this torture anymore, you surge to your feet and storm across the living room. You rip the phone from its cradle and hurl it against the far wall, the plastic casing shattering loudly. The ringing blessedly ends, leaving only an eerie silence in its wake.

Mick and Gina stare at you with wide, stunned eyes. Your mother simply deflates, sliding down the wall to the floor as the adrenaline drains from her body. For several beats, no one dares breathe too loudly. Then, Gina starts to shake her head slowly, tears slipping free.

“Brava,” she murmurs, the barest hint of approval in her voice.

Your mother doesn’t scold you for the outburst. She merely reaches out a hand, silently beckoning you closer until you slowly cross the room again and sink to your knees in front of her. She cups your face in her palms, her own cheeks glistening with fresh tears.

“You’re right, liebling, you’re right,” she whispers brokenly. “This is about our family, not … not the world thinking they’re owed something.”

She pulls your head against her shoulder and you cling to her tightly as she begins to weep in earnest, great shuddering sobs wracking her whole frame. Gina scrambles over and tucks herself against your mother’s other side, and soon all three of you are tangled in each other’s arms, letting the tidal wave of grief crest over you.

Mick stays frozen on the couch, watching over your huddle with dark, haunted eyes. For the first time since this ordeal began, the four of you are united in simply feeling, truly letting yourselves shatter. No more putting on brave faces or pretending to be okay — from this moment, you can finally grieve as a family behind closed doors, blockading out the rest of the cruel, prying world.

Later that evening, after crying yourselves into an exhausted stupor, you drift up the stairs and sequester yourself in your bedroom. You bypass the framed photos of your papa on your nightstand, the sight of his bright smile and twinkling eyes too searing at the moment. Instead, you sink to your knees in the middle of the floor and clasp your hands tightly, bowing your head to murmur desperate pleas.

“Please, please let my papa be okay. I don’t care about all his fame or the stupid reporters. I just want him to get better and come home to us. He’s not just the famous Michael Schumacher to me. He’s Papa. He’s my whole world.”

The words spill out in a torrent, all the fear and longing you’ve been bottling up for the better part of a week erupting forth. You plead to any higher power that may be listening, bargaining away your future, your dreams, anything — as long as your papa pulls through this nightmare.

How many times had you taken for granted those moments of him just being your dad — making you pancakes on Saturday mornings, dozing on the couch during family movie nights, playfully tossing you into the pool when you grew too whiny in the summer heat? You’d give anything to have those simple, precious daddy-daughter moments back.

“The world can have his trophies and titles,” you whisper fiercely, tears slipping free to patter on the carpet. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want my papa. Please, please bring him back to us.”

You curl in on yourself, forehead pressing into the floor as your shoulders shake with silent sobs. All the adoring fans, the fawning media, the hangers-on clamoring for a piece of his glory — they only know the manufactured public persona of Michael Schumacher, legendary racer and famous celebrity. But to you, he’s always just been the quiet hero tucking you into bed at night, the gentle presence reading stories in funny voices, the mighty protector pulling you in for all-encompassing bear hugs.

You miss that wonderful, silly, tender father more than anything in the world. You don’t give a damn about his racing accolades or his fame. You just desperately need your papa back home where he belongs — with his family, the people who loved and treasured him most as simply Michael.

Just Michael. Your one and only papa.

The raw ache of that longing consumes you utterly. You lay there amid the fading light from your bedroom windows, dreams and memories of your papa flickering behind your eyelids as you plead to any benevolent force that may be listening. All you want is the chance to make more joyful memories with him, to hear his rich laugh, to keep basking in his unconditional love for years and years to come.

Please, you beg the universe silently, one last time. Please let this nightmare end. Don’t let the brightest light in my world be extinguished before its time.

Let me have my papa back.

***

A tense hush has fallen over the dining room table, the clinking of utensils against plates the only sound cutting through the thick silence. Gina avoids everyone’s eyes, pushing food around her plate listlessly. Mick stares down at his half-eaten dinner, jaw working like he’s chewing over something weighty. You pick at a bread roll, too knotted with anxiety to muster much appetite.

Your mother is the one to finally break the stifling quiet, clearing her throat. “Kids, I know these last few weeks have been … incredibly difficult for us all.”

You risk a glance up at Corinna. Her eyes are tight at the corners, her mouth a taut line. Just like all of you, the constant vigil at your papa’s bedside, combined with the relentless badgering from the media, has clearly taken its toll.

“But we have to keep trying to be a family, yes?” She reaches across the table to grip your hand. “We’re all Michael has right now. We have to … to stick together for him.”

You nod numbly, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat at the reminder of your papa’s unchanged condition. The waiting, the not knowing if or when he’ll wake up, is a special kind of torment you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Mick abruptly shoves his plate away, the porcelain scraping loudly across the wood. You all flinch a little at the harsh sound.

“I’ve been thinking ...” he starts, then seems to reconsider his words, shoulders tightening fractionally. “Well, Y/N, you know how I … how I race under Mama’s last name?”

You frown slightly, uncertain where he’s going with this. “Betsch, yes. Because you wanted to make your own name without the expectation and pressure of being Michael Schumacher’s son.”

He dips his chin once, looking almost pained. “Exactly. And I think … I think maybe you should consider doing the same.”

The words sit heavy and convolulenting between you all like a sack of wet cement. You blink dumbly, hardly comprehending what he’s suggesting at first. When the implication hits you, you actually recoil as if he’d slapped you across the face.

“What? No. No, absolutely not, Mick. How can you even say that?”

“Y/N, just hear me out,” he pleads, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “With Papa … with what happened, the paparazzi and the fans, they’re going to be watching our every move even more than before. Especially you since you’re planning to continue competing-”

“Don’t you dare make this about his condition,” you spit, fury thrumming through your veins like struck lightning. “And of course I plan to keep racing — it’s what Papa would want! I’m not going to hide from his name like it’s some shameful thing!”

Gina is watching the exchange with wide, startled eyes, her food forgotten. Mick runs an agitated hand through his hair, shaking his head firmly.

“It’s not about hiding or shame, it’s about protecting yourself! Don’t you see how crazy things have gotten? All the reporters harassing us, the fans leaving awful messages online hoping for updates ...”

He leans forward, expression almost desperate. “If you race as Betsch, you can compete without having that extra spotlight. You can just be a normal kid on the track without people peering in.”

Heat rushes up the back of your neck in waves of humiliation and rage. How dare he insinuate that inheriting your papa’s legacy is some kind of burden to be shrugged off? That the name Schumacher is a burden to bear rather than a badge of honor?

“I’m not you, Mick,” you bite out, fists clenching beneath the table. “Maybe racing under Mama’s name helped you deal with the pressure better and that’s fine. But I’m proud to be Michael Schumacher’s daughter! And if people can’t respect that, if they think it means they own a piece of me, then they can go to hell!”

“Language!” Your mother gasps, both appalled and slightly impressed. But you ignore her admonishment, too fired up to rein it in now.

“What, you think pretending to be someone else is going to spare me from living in Papa’s shadow anyway?” You shake your head adamantly, leaning across the table towards Mick. “It’s not, and you know it. Even if I raced under a fake name, everyone is still going to know exactly who I am and make comparisons.”

Slamming your palms on the table, you surge to your feet, chair screeching harshly against the floor. All the pain and uncertainty of these past few weeks is bubbling over into bitter, biting words.

“So why should I hide it? Why can’t I take pride in my name and my heritage? Maybe it’ll mean more scrutiny, but it’s a million times better than feeling like I have to be ashamed! Like I can’t fully honor Papa and make him proud!”

Chest heaving, you stare down a wide-eyed Mick, almost daring him to challenge you further. He seems to read the conviction blazing in your eyes, features softening into chagrin.

“You’re right ...” he murmurs with a wince. “You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

You hold his repentant gaze for a long moment before deflating back into your chair with a muted thud. In the ringing silence, you can hear your mother’s soft sniffles from the far end of the table. When you look over, she has her head bowed, hands pressed to her eyes as she cries quietly.

“M-Mama?” Gina ventures in a small voice, reaching across to grasp her mother’s wrist. “What’s wrong?”

Corinna lowers her hands, swiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. When she meets your bewildered gaze, her expression is a complicated brew of pride and heart-wrenching sadness.

“Nothing is wrong, liebling,” she assures Gina with a watery smile, before turning back to you. “Y/N, you’re so much like your papa, do you know that? So brave and determined … so full of that same fighting spirit.”

She dips her chin, lips trembling faintly. “He would be so proud to hear you defend his name like that. To see you ready to take on the weight of wearing it, regardless of what the world throws at you.”

More tears spill forth, but she brushes them away impatiently with the backs of her hands.

“But liebchen, you have to understand … Michael spent decades bearing that scrutiny and expectation. People analyzing his every move, always under a spotlight so harsh it burned. I never wanted that for any of you.”

Sliding her chair back, your mother crosses to kneel before you, cradling your face gently between her palms. Her eyes are shining but intensely serious, almost pleading with you.

“The Schumacher name casts such a long shadow, one so great that your own light can be eclipsed before you ever have a chance to properly shine. I don’t want you smothered by that burden, mein schatz. I want you free to make your own amazing mark on this world, completely unchained.”

You feel your throat grow tight at her words, the weight of them ringing so true and terribly sad. You reach up to circle your fingers around her wrists, holding her hands to your cheeks like vices.

“I know, Mama, I know,” you whisper roughly. “But that light you want me to shine? Papa is the one who sparked it inside me in the first place.”

You meet her watery gaze steadily, willing her to understand the conviction taking root inside you.

“The joy and passion I have for racing doesn’t come from some anonymous dream. It comes from him — from the nights he spent giving me a play-by-play of his biggest victories, from the days we spent at the karting tracks making memories, from everything I want so desperately to honor.”

Leaning forward until your brows nearly touch, you let the pleasing words spill out directly from your heart.

“So please, please don’t ask me to race as anyone other than your daughter, yes, but also proudly as Michael Schumacher’s daughter. That name isn’t a burden or a shadow to me. It’s something I want to carry forward and make blaze even brighter.”

Your mother’s eyes slip shut as she draws in a shuddering breath. For a long moment, she simply holds your face cradled in her palms, seeming to bask in your impassioned words. When her eyes finally open again, they are overflowing with a fierce tenderness.

“Oh liebchen,” she murmurs, voice thick with an odd mix of grief and wonder. “You are your father’s daughter through and through. So determined, so unafraid to face the world head on ...”

She strokes her thumbs along the apples of your cheeks, swiping away the dampness there. “I only hope he knows just how brightly his fire still burns in you. How it is living on in the most brilliant way.”

Surging up onto her knees, your mother pulls you into a fierce embrace, tucking your head beneath her chin. You cling to her tightly, drawing strength from her warmth, her tireless support and love. Over her shoulder, you can see Mick and Gina watching silently, their own eyes overly bright.

When your mother finally leans back, cupping your face once more, her expression has regained some of its usual firmness and resolution.

“Very well, then,” she nods, offering you a watery but determined smile. “If you truly feel ready to take on the world, to claim that name and legacy as yours, then we will face it together. As a family.”

She rises lithely to her feet, drawing you up along with her. Gathering Mick and Gina in with the sweep of her arms, she folds you all in her protective embrace, holding your foreheads together in the center.

“You may be Schumachers, but that name does not define or limit you,” she declares, quiet but firm. “It is simply one part of your identity, one piece of the incredible legacy you inherited. What you choose to make of it, how brightly you make that legacy burn, is up to you alone.”

She pulls back just enough to meet each of your eyes in turn, her own gleaming with resolute pride.

“So let them watch, let them scrutinize and sneer and make their judgments. You will simply keep chasing your passions and living your truths. Yes, the world may know you as Schumachers, but you alone will define what that name represents, now and for generations to come.”

***

The roar of the engines fades as you cross the finish line, taking the chequered flag. The broadcast team erupts in excitement.

“Unbelievable! Y/N Schumacher has done it — the daughter of the legendary Michael Schumacher wins the Formula 2 championship in her rookie year!”

You can hardly believe it yourself as you start your cooldown lap, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The pit crew is cheering wildly, holding up the #1 sign. Your race engineer is on the radio, his voice cracking with joy. “You’re a champion, Y/N! A first-year champion!”

“What an incredible drive from the young German. Shades of her father with that relentless determination and racecraft. She’s carried on the Schumacher name proudly.”

As you return to the pit lane, you spot Mick getting out of his own car. He has a huge smile on his face, eyes shining with pride. You take a moment to drink it all in as you bring your car to a stop and he’s the first one there, ripping off your helmet so he can hug you tightly.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” He’s beaming as he pulls back to look at you.

“Aww, Mick ...” You blink back happy tears, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what you’ve accomplished. “I couldn’t have done it without you pushing me every single race.”

Mick shakes his head dismissively. “This was all you. You were the faster driver this season, plain and simple.” His face falls a little. “I really thought I had you there at the end, but you just wouldn’t give up.”

You grin cheekily. “Of course not! I’m a Schumacher — we never give up.”

“What a beautiful moment between the siblings. You can see the immense pride Mick has for his sister, despite coming up just short of winning the championship himself.”

The rest of the team surrounds the two of you, lifting you both up onto their shoulders as the celebrations kick into full gear. You lock eyes with Mick over the sea of smiling faces and he winks at you contentedly.

Later, after you’ve returned to the garage, you find a quiet moment alone with Mick. He pulls you into another hug, this one more lingering.

“I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You’ve worked so incredibly hard for this.” Mick’s voice is thick with emotion.

You squeeze him tightly. “Thank you, Mick. That means everything coming from you.”

He pulls back, cupping your face fondly. “I remember when we were kids, dreaming of following in Papa’s footsteps. And now look at us!”

You laugh, a few happy tears spilling over. “I know, it’s crazy! I couldn’t have done this without your help, you know. You’ve been by my side every step of the way.”

“A storybook ending for the Schumacher siblings. Y/N cementing herself as a future star, with her older brother not far behind.”

Mick shakes his head adamantly. “No, Y/N, this was all your talent and determination. I just got a front row seat to watching greatness in the making.” His eyes are shining with sincerity.

You throw your arms around his neck, struck by how lucky you are to have such an amazing brother. “I love you, Mick. Thank you for always believing in me.”

He hugs you fiercely. “I’ll always believe in you. You’re a champion now, but I know this is just the beginning for you.”

The team arrives then, champagne bottles in hand and ready to continue the celebration. You pull back and grin at Mick mischievously, cracking open the first bottle with a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you … for now.”

The bubbly liquid sprays everywhere as you both dissolve into laughter, reveling in this perfect moment of sibling bonding and love. Mick pulls you into a wet hug, so proud and grateful to share this with you.

“And an iconic image — the Schumacher children celebrating a Formula 2 title just like their father did in the upper series so many times before. A changing of the guard, with the name Schumacher set to dazzle racing fans once more for years to come.”

Later that night, after you’ve showered off the champagne and slipped into comfy clothes, there’s a soft knock at your hotel room door. You open it to find Mick standing there, shifting awkwardly.

“Hey, you’ve got a second?” His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, like he’s been crying.

“Of course, what’s up?” You gesture him inside, concerned by his demeanor.

Mick enters slowly, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. He seems to be struggling to find the words.

You rest a hand on his arm. “Mick, you can tell me anything, you know that.”

He nods jerkily, finally meeting your eyes. “I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you accomplishing your dreams.” His voice catches with emotion.

“But?” You prod gently.

Mick’s eyes water again. “But … it’s also really hard for me. This was my dream first, you know? To become a champion like Papa.” He swipes at the tears angrily. “And now you’ve beaten me to it. I’m just … I’m struggling with that a bit.”

Your heart clenches at his quiet admission. You pull Mick into a tight hug, rubbing his back soothingly. “Oh, Mick … I’m so sorry. I never wanted to take that away from you.”

He shakes his head against your shoulder. “No, no, it’s not your fault at all. You earned this, fair and square. I’m just … dealing with some complicated emotions, I guess.”

You push him back by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes intently. “Mick, listen to me. You are one of the most naturally gifted drivers I’ve ever seen. This is not the end for you, not even close. You’re going to be a champion too, I know it.”

Mick seems to deflate slightly at your words, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you state firmly. “We’re going to take this to the top level together. And we’re going to make Papa even more proud than he already is.”

A slow smile spreads across Mick’s face. “Together,” he repeats, reaching out to take your hand and give it a squeeze.

You squeeze back reassuringly. “Always together. You and me, just like when we were kids. We’re a team, remember?”

Mick nods, the brightness returning to his eyes. He seems lighter now, the melancholy cloud lifted by your words of encouragement.

On impulse, you throw your arms around him again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. Mick laughs delightedly, squeezing you just as tightly.

“Thank you, Y/N. I needed to hear that from you,” he murmurs shakily into your hair.

You pull back just enough to grin at him cheekily. “What are little sisters for?”

Mick lets out a surprised bark of laughter, warmth and affection shining from every part of his expression as he gazes at you fondly. “You’ll always be my little sis, champion or not.”

It’s your turn to laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “Well this little sis just kicked your ass this season, so show some respect!”

Mick’s eyes crinkle with mirth. “I’ll remember that for next year, believe me.”

***

It’s a crisp autumn evening at the Schumacher family home in the Swiss Alps. You’re curled up on the plush couch in the living room, flipping through a magazine while your brother paces back and forth anxiously.

“Will you please sit down?” You ask, eyeing him over the top of the pages. “You’re making me dizzy.”

Mick runs a hand through his tousled blond hair. “Sorry, I’m just … worked up, I guess.”

You set the magazine aside. “About what? We haven’t had a race in weeks.”

He stops his pacing to face you. “You know the season’s almost over, right? And Haas still hasn’t said anything about re-signing me for next year.”

“Oh, Mick.” You offer him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. You’ve had a solid season.”

Mick flops down next to you, deflating a little. “I don’t know. There are so many other options on the table. What if Haas decides to go a different direction?”

“Then you’ll find another seat,” you say firmly. “Any team would be lucky to have you behind the wheel.”

He manages a half-smile. “Thanks. I just wish I had your confidence sometimes.”

“What can I say?” You flash him a cheeky grin. “It’s a gift.”

The peaceful moment is shattered as both of your phones start ringing in unison. You exchange a puzzled look before digging them out.

“My manager,” Mick says, furrowing his brow as he answers. “Hello?”

You do the same, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hey, Nicolas, what’s up?”

For the next few minutes, you and Mick are silent, listening intently with rapidly changing expressions — yours elated, his crestfallen. When you finally hang up, Mick is staring at the floor, lips pressed into a tight line.

“Well?” He asks, voice tight. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

You take a deep breath, trying to tamp down your surging excitement. “Ferrari wants me for next season.”

Mick’s face falls even further, if possible. “You’re kidding.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this!” You can’t keep the grin from overtaking your features. “Can you believe it? Driving for the Scuderia! It’s a dream come true!”

“Yeah, for you maybe,” Mick mutters darkly.

You blink at his tone, smile fading slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He drags a hand down his face wearily. “Haas declined to re-sign me for next year.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? No, that can’t be right!”

“Afraid so.” Mick’s voice is flat, resigned. “They said something about … needing to bring in fresh blood or some bullshit excuse.”

You scoot closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Mick, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

“Don’t be.” He tries for a nonchalant shrug, but it comes off as dejected. “At least one of us is moving up in the world.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” You protest. “We’re teammates! We were supposed to take on Formula 1 together!”

Mick snorts humorlessly. “Looks like that’s not going to happen after all.”

An uncomfortable silence stretches between you. You open your mouth, searching for the right words of reassurance, but come up empty. How can you comfort him when your own dream has come true at his expense?

“Hey.” Mick’s somber tone breaks the quiet. “I’m happy for you, you know. Really, I am.”

You meet his sincere gaze, feeling your eyes start to well up. “I know. But that doesn’t make this any less shitty for you.”

He manages a rueful smile. “What can I say? I’m a realist.”

“So what are you going to do now?” You ask quietly.

Mick lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Keep grinding, I guess. Look for another seat, any seat, even if it’s not in F1 next season.”

“You can’t give up on F1!” You protest instantly. “You’re too good for that, Mick.”

“Am I, though?” He lets out a mirthless chuckle. “Face it, Y/N, you’ve always been the better driver. This just proves it.”

You shake your head adamantly. “That’s not true at all! You’re every bit as talented as me.”

“Then why did Ferrari pick you instead of me?” There’s no accusation in his words, just weariness.

You falter, mind churning as you search for an answer that won’t come. “I … don’t know.”

“Exactly.” Mick closes his eyes briefly. “Maybe it’s for the best. At least this way, one of us still gets to live out the Schumacher legacy and race for Ferrari. Carry on the family name, you know?”

“But you’re a Schumacher too,” you say, feeling your throat start to tighten with unshed tears. “It should be both of us out there, not just me.”

Mick reaches over to give your hand a comforting squeeze. “Hey, don’t cry about it. I’ll be okay, really.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” You swipe angrily at the moisture gathering in your eyes. “It’s not fair, Mick. It’s just not fair at all.”

He levels you with a look that’s decades older than his years. “Life rarely is. You know that as well as I do.”

You fall silent, unable to formulate a response. He’s right, you realize with a pang. The two of you, of all people, should understand that success and failure often go hand-in-hand, even for the most talented competitors.

Pursing your lips, you lean forward and pull Mick into a fierce hug. He tenses for a split second before wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I’m still so proud of you,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my incredible big brother.”

Mick lets out a shaky exhale against your hair. “And you’re the most badass little sister a guy could ask for. Ferrari has no idea what they’re in for.”

You pull back just far enough to meet his eyes, emboldened by the warm affection shining in them.

“Just promise me one thing?” You ask.

He arches an eyebrow quizzically. “What’s that?”

A mischievous grin tugs at your lips. “That you’re not going to take it easy on me whenever you’re back on the grid.”

***

You take a deep breath as you pull your sleek new Ferrari up to the iconic factory in Maranello. This place holds so many memories — some joyful, others bittersweet. Your father cemented himself as a legend here, and you can’t help but feel the weight of that legacy on your shoulders now more than ever.

The door swings open and there stands Fred Vasseur offering you a warm smile. “Y/N, welcome home.”

You return the smile, unable to mask the flood of emotions. “It’s good to be back, Fred.”

He gestures for you to follow him inside. “I’m sure this place brings back quite a few memories.”

“You have no idea,” you murmur, taking in the familiar sights and smells. The rosso corsa that coats every surface, the scent of machinery and high-octane fuel … it’s intoxicating.

A tiny you runs through the hallways, giggling madly as your frantic mother tries to catch up. “Mick! Y/N! Get back here this instant!”

Mick peeks out from behind a workbench, sticking his tongue out at Gina, who playfully swats at him. You spot the perfect hiding spot — a massive green recycling bin tucked in the corner ...

“Y/N? Are you still with me?” Fred’s voice breaks you from your reverie.

You shake your head. “Sorry, got a bit lost in thought there. This place just … feels like stepping into the past.”

Fred nods knowingly. “I can only imagine. But today is about your future with the team.” He leads you through the winding corridors, pointing out various departments. “Over here is aerodynamics, that hallway takes you to the design labs ...”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Your father’s voice echoes down the corridor, his tone playful but tinged with desperation. You stifle a giggle from your hiding spot as his footsteps draw closer.

“Michael, any luck?” That’s Paolo, one of the mechanics. You chance a peek and see half the team has been enlisted to search for you.

Your dad scrubs a hand over his face. “She’s too good at this game. Should’ve known better than to play hide-and-seek in a place this size.”

You chuckle softly at the memory, prompting a curious look from Fred. “Sorry, just … reminiscing again.”

He gives you an easy grin. “By all means, feel free to share. I’d love to hear some of those old stories.”

You take a breath, composing yourself before launching into the tale. “Well, there was this one time when I was maybe … four or five? Mick and I were causing an unholy ruckus as usual, and Papa suggested a game of hide-and-seek to wear us out. Big mistake on his part.”

Fred’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Let me guess, you proved to be a master hider?”

“You could say that.” You grin mischievously. “I found this big recycling bin, crawled inside, and stayed completely silent while the whole team tore the place apart looking for me. Papa was just about to call in the overalls for backup when Paolo finally peeked in the bin.”

Fred throws his head back with a hearty laugh. “I can just picture your poor father’s face when they found you! He must’ve been both relieved and completely exasperated.”

You nod. “Oh, he wore that particular blend of emotions often when we were young terrors around here.”

The two of you continue chatting amicably as Fred shows you around the various facilities — the simulator room, the engine workshop, even the gym and physiotherapy center. With each new area unveiled, another flood of nostalgia washes over you.

You and Mick sprint into the wide-open workshop, engines and miscellaneous car pieces scattered all around. Gina is closing in, her longer legs giving her an advantage.

“Got you now, you little gremlins!” She scoops Mick up with one arm, then turns her sights on you.

You let out a shriek of laughter, dodging around a massive piece of equipment as your mother joins the chase. “Come here, Maus! It’s time for your nap!”

You shake your head furiously. “No nap! No nap!”

Corinna’s hand finally snags the back of your shirt, and you erupt into a fit of giggles as she pulls you into a hug ...

“That’s some smile you’ve got going there,” Fred notes with a wry grin. “I take it another happy memory?”

You give an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Just … remembering how this place used to be our personal jungle gym. Mick, Gina, and I would run absolute loops around Mama while she tried to wrangle us for nap time.”

Fred chuckles fondly. “I can picture three tiny terrors leaving chaos in their wake.” His expression softens. “It must be incredibly special to be back here after all these years. To follow in your father’s footsteps like this.”

You swallow hard against the swell of emotions. “It’s … overwhelming, if I’m being honest. But in the best possible way.” You glance around at the familiar setting with new eyes. “These halls practically raised me. And now … now I get to write my own chapter here.”

Fred gives your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve got a long road ahead, but I have complete faith you’ll make us all proud, Y/N.”

You straighten your shoulders, giving him a determined nod. “I’m ready.”

As you follow him further into the factory, you can’t help but revel in the rush of coming full circle. Yes, this team, this place, is indelibly woven into your childhood. But now … now it’s time to create new memories.

To race.

To win.

To become a legend.

***

The crowd outside the Ferrari headquarters swells as you emerge from the famous red doors for the first time as an official Scuderia Ferrari driver. Shouts and cheers erupt from every direction, fans pressing forward eagerly with pens and photos clutched in their hands.

“Over here, Y/N!”

“Un selfie, per favore!”

“Can you sign this for my daughter?”

You plaster on a polite smile, trying to graciously oblige as many autograph and photo requests as possible. But the throngs only grow more insistent, hands grabbing at you from all angles as the crowd closes in. Your heart races and you feel yourself starting to panic at the lack of personal space.

“Per favore, let her breathe!” An insistent voice cuts through the commotion in lightly accented Italian.

The crowd parts slightly as a familiar, lean figure pushes through — your new teammate. His green eyes meet yours with a reassuring look as he plants himself firmly by your side.

“Give her some space!” Charles barks out in English this time. “She can’t breathe!”

You shoot him a grateful glance as the fans reluctantly take a step back. Charles gently takes your arm and pulls you out of the scrum.

“Sorry about that,” he says with an apologetic smile, running a hand through his tousled brown hair. “I know how intense they can be around here.”

“No, thank you,” you reply earnestly. “I was about two seconds away from an anxiety attack.”

Charles chuckles. “Well, we can’t have the new driver cracking under pressure on day one.”

You make a face at his teasing remark. “Watch it, pretty boy.”

Laughing, Charles puts his arm around your shoulders in a friendly gesture. “Come on, I know just the place to escape the madness for a bit. Dinner’s on me.”

He guides you across the plaza and down a side street to a cozy trattoria — Ristorante Montana, known as the unofficial “Ferrari restaurant” frequented by team members. As you enter, a stout woman with a warm, welcoming smile emerges from the back.

“Ah, Charles! Welcome back. And this must be ...” Her eyes widen as they land on you. “Oh, la piccola principessa is all grown up!”

Flustered, you open your mouth to respond, but the woman has already swept you up in a tight embrace.

“Rossella, you’re smothering the poor girl!” A elderly man’s voice calls out in amused rebuke.

“Hush, Maurizio, and pour us some wine!” Rossella releases you and holds you at arm’s length, beaming. “Michael’s little girl, all woman now. I’ll never forget the first time your father brought you in here as a bambina.”

She gestures to a framed photo hanging on the wall of a much younger Rossella standing next to Michael, who is holding a grinning toddler — unmistakably you.

“He was so proud,” Rossella continues misty-eyed. “Just like I know he would be of you today, following in your father’s footsteps.”

You swallow hard, touched by the warm welcome and memory. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Charles watching you with a soft smile.

Rossella shifts gears abruptly, all business. “Now, what will you two have? The usual for you, Charles? And for you, la principessa, I insist you try the gnocchi al ragú. Just like my nonna used to make it.”

As Rossella whisks off to the kitchen, Maurizio appears with a bottle of deep red wine and two glasses.

“To new beginnings,” he toasts with a wink, pouring for you and Charles.

You raise your glass to clink against Charles’ with a smile. “New beginnings.”

Over pasta and wine, you and Charles fall into an easy rapport, bantering back and forth as the weight of the evening’s earlier stress dissipates. You find yourself repeatedly distracted by the dimpled grin that lights up his face whenever he laughs at one of your quips.

“So is this a regular hazing ritual you put all the rookies through?” You ask innocently. “Get them away from the crowds and ply them with wine so they’re too drunk to be nervous on day one?”

Charles barks out a laugh. “You’ve found me out! Although I do seem to recall my own initiation being a lot harder. Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.”

“Old age? You’re what …12?” You retort, eyes dancing with mirth.

The waiter arrives with the dessert menu, but Rossella shoos him away.

“No, no menu. I’m bringing you the tiramisu to share. My secret recipe.”

Charles groans in delight. “You’re a legend, Rossella.”

She pats his cheek affectionately before disappearing again. A comfortable silence falls between you and Charles as you each take a bite of the rich, velvety tiramisu.

“Mmmm, this is literally heaven,” you murmur happily.

Charles hums in agreement around another forkful.

Your eyes catch movement out of the corner and you turn to see Rossella returning, carrying a large framed photo under her arm. She sets it down on the empty chair next to you with a proud grin.

It’s a glamor shot of you from a recent photoshoot for Vogue Italia — hair and makeup impeccable, lips parted in a secret smile as you gaze directly at the camera.

Rossella rests a hand on your shoulder. “For me, bellissima? So we can hang la principessa right next to il padre.”

Touched, you take the proffered sharpie and scribble out a quick inscription before signing your name with a flourish at the bottom.

“Grazie mille,” Rossella breathes, throwing an arm around you to squeeze you against her ample frame. “You’ve made this old heart very happy tonight.”

When she finally releases you, you see Charles watching you both with a soft, almost wistful expression. You raise your eyebrows at him in question, but he just shakes his head with a smile.

As you and Charles prepare to depart, Rossella calls out once more. “You come back soon, eh principessa? I have more pictures to collect.”

You throw her a wink over your shoulder. “D’accordo, d’accordo. We’ll be back soon!”

Out on the street, you pause, conscious of the evening rapidly drawing to a close. You turn to Charles, studying him properly for the first time. His deep green eyes crinkle at the corners as he meets your gaze.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t swooped in to rescue me back there.”

Charles shrugs nonchalantly, but his expression is kind. “We look out for our own in Ferrari. That’s what teammates are for, no?”

A beat passes, the momentary tension thickening between you. Then Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat.

“Anyway, I should let you get going before your handlers send out a search party. Need me to call you a car?”

“No, no I’m good,” you reply quickly, trying to mask your disappointment at the night ending. “My performance coach has the car around front.”

You start to turn away, then impulsively pivot back. Rising up on your toes, you throw your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a brief, platonic hug.

“Seriously, thank you,” you murmur in his ear. “For everything.”

As you pull back, your faces are just inches apart. Charles’ eyes are warm, his gaze intense. For a dizzying moment, you’re certain he’s going to kiss you. Then just as suddenly, the moment passes and he steps back with a friendly smile.

“Anytime, princesse. I’ll see you bright and early next week for our first time running the SF-23 on the simulator.”

With a wink, he turns and saunters off down the street, hands shoved in his pockets in that effortlessly cool way of his. You let out a long breath, flustered and exhilarated all at once.

Your performance coach has indeed been waiting with the car, looking mildly concerned. “Everything alright?”

You flash her a bright smile, practically skipping to the car. “It is now, Mara. It absolutely is.”

Your first day as a Ferrari driver was certainly more than you bargained for. But as you settle into the plush leather seats, you can’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Something tells you this new chapter with the Scuderia is going to be an adventure — in more ways than one.

As Mara pulls away from the curb, you catch a final glimpse of Charles striding confidently down the street. Even from a distance, you can make out the dimpled smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Leaning back against the headrest, you think back to the memory of his arm slung casually around your shoulders and sigh contentedly. Yes, you have a feeling this is just the beginning of what’s shaping up to be a very interesting partnership with Charles Leclerc.

***

Sebastian looks over the wine list, pretending to be engrossed in selecting the perfect vintage as he peers over the top of the menu. His eyes are fixated on the entrance to the upscale Italian restaurant, waiting for Charles and you to arrive.

This had better work, he thinks to himself. The two of you have been making googly eyes at each other for months now, but are both too stubborn to make a move.

Finally, the hostess leads Charles and you into the dining room. Sebastian ducks down, pulling the brim of his fedora lower over his face and adjusting the fake mustache he’s wearing as a disguise. He watches as the hostess shows Charles and you to an intimate table for two by the window, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating your faces.

“There must be some mistake,” Charles says, looking around in confusion. “I was under the impression we were meeting Sebastian here for dinner?”

You look equally perplexed. “That’s what he told me too. He said to meet at 8 o’clock sharp.”

“Well this is just awkward,” Charles runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Should we wait for him or ...”

Before you can respond, the waiter arrives with a basket of bread and butter. “Good evening, my name is Gerardo and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Actually, we’re still waiting on-” Charles begins, but the waiter cuts him off.

“Ah yes, Mr. Vettel asked me to inform you that he will be unable to join this evening after all. A last minute obligation came up. He insisted I take excellent care of you both and that the evening is on his treat.” Gerardo smiles broadly. “So what will you have to drink?”

Sebastian smirks to himself at his cleverly orchestrated ruse from his secluded table in the back corner. He watches with bated breath as a flustered Charles and you exchange an awkward look.

“I’ll have a glass of Chianti,” you say finally, breaking the tension.

“Make that two,” Charles adds with a resigned sigh.

As Gerardo heads off to grab your drinks, an uncomfortable silence falls over the table. “You know, we don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Charles says, ever the gentleman. “I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Don’t be silly,” you reply, offering him a warm smile that makes Sebastian’s heart melt a little. “It would be rude to ruin the evening Sebastian so carefully planned, even if he’s not actually here to enjoy it.”

Charles visibly relaxes at your acceptance of the situation. “You’re right, of course. If it’s a free dinner, we would be fools to turn that down!”

You both share a laugh, finally breaking the ice. Sebastian feels a swell of pride watching the two of you start to let your guards down around each other.

Over the next hour or so, Sebastian is delighted to see Charles and you become more at ease, trading jokes and stories over several delectable courses of pasta, veal, and freshly baked focaccia. He’s never seen either of you look so lighthearted and carefree, nor has he witnessed two people connect on such an organic, genuine level before. It’s positively magical to behold.

Gerardo arrives once more, this time bearing a decadent slice of torta della nonna for you to share for dessert. “Compliments of the house,” he announces with a wink before departing.

You immediately dig into the lemony confection with gusto. “Oh my god, this is dangerously good,” you moan through a mouthful of pastry cream and flaky crust.

Charles tries and fails to stifle a laugh at your unabashed enthusiasm. “You’ve got a little ...” he gestures vaguely at the corners of your mouth.

“What? Where?” You ask, attempting to wipe the stray crumbs and smears of powdered sugar from your cheeks.

“Here, let me,” Charles says softly, reaching across the table with his cloth napkin.

Sebastian watches with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest, as Charles tenderly swipes the napkin along your lips, his thumb grazing your cheek in the process. The moment seems to last an eternity, the two of you locked in each other’s smoldering gaze.

Then, ever so slowly, Charles leans across the table towards you. Sebastian can scarcely breathe as he witnesses the magnetic pull drawing the two of you together. This is it, this is finally happening, he marvels silently.

Sebastian lets out an inadvertent yelp of glee and instantly slaps his hands over his mouth. A table of nearby diners turns to gawk at the strange mustached man.

“Ahem, sorry! Hairball,” Sebastian rasps out in a terrible Italian accent. He slinks down in the booth, burning with embarrassment as the other patrons slowly turn away with disgusted looks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Charles and you also turn towards the commotion, the heated moment effectively ruined. Damn it, he was so close!

You and Charles eventually turn back towards each other, the awkwardness having returned. “We should, uh, probably ask for the check soon,” Charles mumbles, unable to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve got an early training session in the morning anyway,” you reply, the disappointment evident in your voice as you stare down at the table.

Inwardly cursing his rotten luck, Sebastian motions for the bill and slips his black credit card into the folder when Gerardo brings it. He knows the only way to redeem this night is to insist you and Charles stay for one more drink. Maybe add a little more wine confidence to help reignite that spark you both nearly combusted over just moments ago.

As Gerardo whisks away to process Sebastian’s payment, the older German steels his nerves. He removes his ridiculous disguise, straightens his tie, and makes his way over to your table with purpose.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Sebastian asks with an exaggerated wink as he reaches you. “It appears Mr. Leclerc and Miss Schumacher were stood up this evening. For shame!”

“Ah, Seb!” Charles laughs in surprise at seeing his friend and former teammate. “We should have known you were behind this madness.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “You’re a menace! I can’t believe you tricked us like that.”

Sebastian claps his hands together and flashes you both a devilish grin. “What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic who cannot abide two clearly smitten people tiptoeing around each other any longer. Now, Gerardo is going to bring you the finest Barolo they have, on my dime, and you are going to remedy this sexual tension situation once and for all over another bottle or three!”

Charles opens his mouth to protest, but you laugh delightedly and nod towards Sebastian. “You know what, I could go for another drink. What do you say, Charles?”

The older Ferrari driver seems to wilt under the weight of your brilliant smile, Sebastian can’t fault the man for that. “Ah, what the hell,” Charles shrugs, throwing his arm around the back of your chair. “Let’s see where this night takes us!”

Sebastian settles in, pouring you all generous glasses of the deep ruby wine when Gerardo delivers it. He may be getting on in years, but his matchmaking job has only just begun. One way or another, he’s determined to ensure his two protégés quit stumbling over each other and finally discover the romance that’s been blossoming under their noses all along.

Sipping his wine, Sebastian gazes at you and Charles, sees the tenderness flickering in both your eyes as you lean in closer together over the candlelight. He smiles contentedly to himself.

Mission accomplished.

***

The paddock is mostly deserted at this late hour, the muffled sounds of the teams packing up drifting in from the garages. You linger near the Ferrari motorhome, watching Charles sitting alone on a stack of tires, shoulders slumped. He’s been increasingly withdrawn these past few days leading up to the Japanese Grand Prix.

You approach slowly, not wanting to startle him. “Charles? You okay?”

He looks up, managing a small smile when he sees you. “Hey, mon amour.”

There’s a weariness to his voice that tugs at your heart. You take a seat beside him, letting your arm brush against his in a subtle show of support. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Charles is silent for a long moment, pulling his helmet off and turning it over in his hands. “It’s Suzuka,” he finally says, so softly you have to lean in to hear him. “Being back here … it’s difficult.”

Your brow furrows. Right, this is where Jules Bianchi crashed, his accident eventually proving fatal. Charles had been incredibly close with his mentor and godfather. “I can’t even imagine how painful this must be.” You cover his hand with yours. “Having to race on the same track ...”

“I relive that day over and over.” Charles’s accented voice is thick with emotion. “I can still see the footage of his car slamming into the crane, like it’s burned into my mind. He was my friend, my godfather, like a brother to me. And now every year, I have to come back to this place that took him from us far too soon.” He squeezes his eyes shut, a stray tear escaping.

“Oh, Charles ...” You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. His body is rigid at first before melting against you, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You hold him tightly as his breath hitches with suppressed sobs, your own eyes stinging. How many times has he bottled up this grief, putting on a brave face for the world?

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, stroking his back. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve carried all these years. But Jules wouldn’t want you torturing yourself like this.” You pull away enough to frame his face with your hands, meeting his reddened eyes. “He’d want you to keep living, to keep pursuing your dream that he helped nurture. He’d be so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

Charles manages a watery smile, covering one of your hands with his. “You’re right. Thank you, chérie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leans in, resting his forehead against yours with a shuddering sigh. “I just miss him so much some days. Like an ache I can’t shake.”

“I know.” You brush away the dampness on his cheeks with your thumbs. “Believe me, I understand that ache all too well.”

A crease forms between Charles’s brows as he regards you intently. “Your papa.”

You give a solemn nod. “Everyone talks about him like he’s gone. But he’s not, he’s still here, still breathing. It’s just … he’s not the same man I grew up with anymore.” You blink back tears of your own. “Sometimes I’ll see flashes that remind me so much of how Papa used to be. And then that illusion is shattered and I’m grieving all over again for the person he was.”

Charles’ arms wrap around you fully, tucking your head under his chin. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Seeing those glimpses of the man he was, only to have that hope ripped away.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

You let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, definitely doesn’t feel like it most days.” Pulling away, you try for a smile. “But we Schumachers are fighters. We don’t stay down for long.”

“That’s my girl.” Charles grins, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m lucky to have you by my side through all of this craziness. I don’t know what I’d do without your support, especially this weekend.”

“Are you kidding?” You turn to fully face him, clasping his hands in yours. “Charles, you’ve been my rock too, you know that? Signing with Ferrari this year, following in my father’s footsteps … the pressure has been immense. But you’ve never let me crumble under it. You’re always there with a laugh or a hug or some silly joke to make me smile even on the hardest days.”

Charles’s grin turns lopsided, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always makes your heart flutter. “Well, someone has to keep that ego of yours from inflating too much, future champion.” He leans in until his lips are a mere breath from yours. “But in all seriousness, we’re in this together, okay? No matter what the future holds, I’ll always have your back.”

“I know,” you murmur, feeling his words like a soothing balm over the parts of your heart still aching for your father as you once knew him. “And I’ll always have yours. We’re a team, on and off the track.” You close the distance between you, kissing him deeply.

Charles returns the kiss with fervor, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you close. The worries plaguing you both seem to temporarily fade into the background amid the warmth and solidity of his embrace. When you finally break apart, breathless, his emerald gaze holds an intensity that steals the air from your lungs in the best way.

“Je t’aime,” he murmurs, the endearment like a vow falling from his lips. “No matter what happens out there tomorrow, or any other race day, that will never change. You and me against the world, princesse.”

You flash him a coy smile, feeling desire begin to simmer low in your belly. “Is that a promise, Mr. Leclerc?”

“Mmm, I can make it one if you’d like.” Charles waggles his eyebrows, making you giggle as his hands roam freely over your back and sides, pulling you flush against him. His voice drops to a husky whisper. “Maybe I can find more convincing ways to pledge my devotion once we’re back at the hotel.”

“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you say breathily, leaning in to nip at his lower lip in a way that makes him groan. “Though if memory serves, I seem to recall you saying something about honoring the team’s curfew tonight?” You trail openmouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. “Wouldn’t want to be … sleep deprived before the race.”

Charles’s fingers flex against your hips as he lets out a shuddering breath. “You’re really testing my willpower here.”

“Payback for all those times you’ve tortured me.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp nip to the sensitive skin below his ear, making him jerk against you with a strangled sound. Pulling back, you smirk at the glazed look in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

He blinks slowly, then his gaze narrows in a way that makes heat flare across your skin. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that later.” His voice is low, almost a growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“I look forward to it.” You lean in until your lips are nearly brushing his again.

“Tease,” Charles accuses, though his kiss quickly swallows any further retort.

You lose yourself in the press of his mouth, the exploring glide of his hands over your body, the undeniable chemistry that still sometimes takes your breath away. When you finally break apart, gasping for air, you stay wrapped in each other’s arms, foreheads resting together.

“Thank you,” Charles murmurs after a long beat of comfortable silence. “For always knowing how to pull me out of my own head. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“That’s what partners are for,” you say simply, brushing back the silken strands of chestnut hair falling over his forehead. His eyes are so warm, so full of love and adoration, you feel it envelop you like a cozy blanket. “I’ll always be here to lean on, just like you are for me.”

Charles catches your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. “And I’m grateful for that every single day. Facing the good times and bad, together.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles. “I know Suzuka will never be easy, not with the weight of the memories here. But you make the burden feel lighter. Like no matter what, I’ll be okay as long as I have you by my side.”

You lean in, brushing a featherlight kiss across his lips. “Always. No matter what the future holds, you’re stuck with me, Leclerc.”

A slow, utterly content smile spreads across his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He steals another lingering kiss before glancing toward the pit area, where the last few stragglers are packing up for the night. “As much as I’d love to keep you all to myself, I suppose we should try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

Sliding off the tire stack, he offers you his hand, that warm gleam still dancing in his forest-colored eyes. “Though maybe we could indulge in a long, hot shower first? You know, to … unwind after such an emotionally draining evening.”

You raise an eyebrow at his transparent attempt at nonchalance, but can’t help a smirk from tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Leclerc, are you propositioning me?”

“Would that be so terrible?” He tugs you into his arms, leaving a trail of teasing kisses along your jaw. “After all, we did have quite the … charged conversation just now. I’d hate for all that pent-up tension to distract us on track tomorrow.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his wandering hands and lips leave tingles across your skin. “Well, when you put it that way … I suppose a nice, relaxing shower could be just what we need to clear our heads.” Looping your arms around his neck, you meet his heated gaze through lowered lashes. “Lead the way, liebling.”

Charles’ responding grin is nothing short of wolfish. “With pleasure.” Scooping you up in his arms, he heads for the parking lot at a swift pace, leaving the weight of Suzuka and its ghosts behind for the night.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you bring your Ferrari across the finish line, tires smoking from the incredible pace. Your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio, congratulating you, but the words are drowned out by the thunderous cheers echoing around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.

You can hardly believe it. Your first season with the Scuderia and you’ve just won the Italian Grand Prix — on the hallowed ground that your father once ruled. The sea of fans decked out in red is a sight to behold, celebrating wildly as you complete the cool-down lap.

Pulling into parc fermé, you kill the engine, the high-pitched whine slowly dying away. Undoing the straps, you clamber out, still trying to process what just happened. This is really real.

“You!”

The familiar voice makes you turn. It’s Charles, beaming from ear-to-ear despite settling for second place today. He pulls you into a massive hug, squeezing you tightly.

“I can’t believe you just did that! Amazing drive!”

You laugh, giddy with joy and adrenaline. “I still can’t believe it either! Everything just … clicked.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Charles chuckles, ruffling your sweat-damp hair. “You were incredible out there. Absolutely brilliant.”

Hearing the praise from your boyfriend means everything. You know how hard he’s worked, how much he’s sacrificed to get this far. And he’s still your biggest supporter.

The two of you finally pull apart as the rest of the team makes their presence known, congratulating you with bearhugs and massive pats on the back. You did it — you brought the victory home for Ferrari at the Temple of Speed.

After the chaos of the post-race celebrations dies down a little, it’s time for the podium ceremony. You can’t wait to stand up there, basking in the adulation of the wildly passionate Tifosi. As you make your way out with Charles and the third place finisher, the crowd’s cheers swell to a new eardrum-bursting level.

Climbing the steps, you take your spot on the top level, heart racing as you look out over the endless sea of fans. The air is filled with brilliant red smoke, passionate flag-wavers creating mesmerizing patterns. You’ve seen Grands Prix in Italy before, but being up here, having actually won — it’s on another level entirely.

Speeches are made, anthems are played, and then it’s time to crack open the podium champagne. As the bottles are picked up, a rolling chant starts building in the grandstands:

“La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

The sound shakes you to your core. Tears instantly spring to your eyes.

Charles, beside you on the second step, grins and nudges you. “Listen to them! You’ve done it — you’ve made them fall in love with you just like they did with your father.”

Looking down at him with misty eyes, you mouth, “Thank you,” so overwhelmed that you can’t speak. He slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close. The two of you share a soft kiss as the chanting grows louder and louder.

As you pull back, gazing out over the surging tide of humanity, faces beaming up at you in adoration, it finally sinks in. This moment — winning at Monza for Ferrari, with Charles by your side, the Tifosi embracing you wholeheartedly — is beyond anything you ever could have dreamed.

The emotions pour out in waves of joy and pride and disbelief. You raise your bottle high, echoing the chants and cheering your heart out to the crowd. They roar back even louder, feeding off your energy in the way that only this group of diehard fans can.

Once the champagne showers subside, giddy fans whistling at you and Charles canoodling on the podium, it’s time to head back down. But the celebrations are just getting started. The team wants to keep the party going.

On the drive over to Maranello, you find yourself sandwiched in the backseat between Charles and your race engineer, Ricky. Everyone is grinning like maniacs, high on the thrill of victory, singing drinking songs at the top of their lungs.

“Solo per lei! Principessa di Monza!” Ricky bellows, gently elbowing you. The rest join in, filling the car with the chant of “Only for her! Princess of Monza!” You can’t stop giggling, leaning into Charles, deliriously happy.

Once you finally roll up to the factory, the party spills out of the car and into the streets. The entire workforce has turned out, waving huge Ferrari flags, beating drums and sounding air horns in celebration. You’re immediately swarmed, being passed from hug to hug as champagne is sprayed in joyful arcs.

They finally manage to sweep you, Charles, and most of your garages inside the factory, where long banquet tables have been set up in the main hall. An enormous cheer goes up as you enter, sparkling wine sloshing from hastily poured glasses all around you.

The meal that follows is a total blur — amazing food, flowing alcohol, raucous toasts, and the happiest pandemonium you’ve ever witnessed. You keep getting tugged from conversation to conversation, everyone wanting to hear how the race played out from your lips. Charles sticks by your side the whole time, looking on with sheer pride.

At one point, you end up going shot for shot with Fred Vasseur, the team principal pouring vodka like his job depends on it. “La mia principessa!” He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. “You’ve made us all so proud today!”

He hoists his glass. “To our Princess! The Princess of Monza!”

The chant starts up again all around you. “La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

You beam at them all, squeezing Fred’s hand. No words can describe this feeling, being embraced so completely by your team — your family. This is what you’ve dreamed about since you were a little girl. Following in your father’s footsteps, bringing glory to Ferrari, carrying on the legend.

The party rages on long into the night. At some point, you lose track of time completely, delirious with exhaustion from the whirlwind of emotion.

You come around for a moment, blinking in the dim glow of the factory lights. There’s quiet rumbles of laughter around you, echoing off the walls. Looking around blearily, you realize you’ve been tucked into a makeshift bed fashioned from a pile of Ferrari t-shirts, nestled in one of the car assembly spaces.

Charles is there too, cradled against your side, one arm wrapped protectively around you. The rest of the team — your PR officers, engineers, mechanics, everyone — is strewn about in similar nests, all of them totally conked out.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle deeper into Charles’ embrace, feeling his lips brush the top of your head. This bizarre, wonderful scene seems to encapsulate everything about being part of the Ferrari family. It’s chaotic and overwhelming and unlike anything else in the world.

But most of all, it’s home.

As you start to drift back to sleep, savoring the lingering scent of champagne and motor oil, one final chant echoes in your head:

La principessa di Monza.

La principessa di Ferrari.

***

11 Months Later

The last few laps feel like they’re happening in slow motion. Every turn, every gear shift, every tiny input to the steering wheel is magnified tenfold as the circuits count down. The pressure is immense, but you’ve been here before. You can do this.

“Stay calm, stay focused,” your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio. “The calculations look good. Just bring it home steady.”

Nodding to yourself, you downshift entering the stadium section, the roar of the massive crowd surrounding the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez swelling in your ears. This is it — your chance to join the likes of motorsport’s greatest heroes by winning the Formula 1 World Championship.

Your first victory at Monza, being crowned the “Principessa di Ferrari” by the adoring Tifosi, was a dream come true. But this … this is what you’ve worked towards since you were old enough to understand what your father achieved. To etch your name into the history books forever.

The laps tick by agonizingly. Every time the pitboard comes into view, your heart rate spikes. But you’ve got a comfortable gap to second place, managing the race perfectly. Just a few more corners now.

“Final lap, final lap,” your engineer calls out. “Looking brilliant. Stay comfortable and you’ve got this!”

You suck in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Out of the sweeping Curve 3 and onto the pit straight, the crowd’s thunderous cheers are reaching fever pitch. You can see the seas of red-clad fans absolutely losing their minds, knowing the woman they idolize is about to achieve immortality.

Crossing the finish line, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding for what feels like ages. The emotion is overwhelming — a combination of pure elation, disbelief, and total exhaustion.

You did it.

World Champion at last!

You cruise around, yelling unintelligibly into the radio as the celebrations kick off around the circuit. There’s confetti in the air, smoke flares going off in brilliant shades of red, and a full-throated roar that could probably be heard all the way back in Europe.

Pulling into parc fermé, you switch off the car, letting the weight of the moment sink in. Tears of joy prick at your eyes as the magnitude of your achievement hits home. Ever since you were a little girl, running around watching your papa, this has been the ultimate dream for you.

And now, it’s finally happened. You’re a World Champion. Just like him.

The first person to reach you is Charles. He comes sprinting over from his own car, bounding past the marshals without a second look. One glimpse of the huge smile plastered across his face is all it takes for you to dissolve into giggles and delirious tears.

“You did it! You brilliant, brilliant woman, you did it!” He shouts, grabbing you up in his arms and spinning you around in a whirlwind hug.

“I can’t believe it, Charles! It felt like a dream … like it wasn’t really happening!”

You’re both laughing and crying at the same time, drunk on the euphoria of the moment. Clutching each other tightly, you press your foreheads together, trying in vain to compose yourselves.

“I’m so proud of you,” Charles murmurs, gazing at you with adoring eyes. “You worked so incredibly hard for this. You deserve everything.”

Surging forward, you capture his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. For a few brief moments, the two of you are alone, lost in the depth of your emotions and your all-encompassing love for each other. Nothing else in the world matters but this perfect second frozen in time.

You finally break apart, breathless, when the rest of the team sweeps in to congratulate you. They swarm around in a laughing, whooping mass, jumping up and down, hugging, chanting your name over and over.

“To our champion! The Queen!”

The cry comes from Antonio, one of the veteran mechanics who’s been with the team since your papa’s days. He clasps your hands tightly, gazing at you with pride.

“Sei la regina! The Queen of Ferrari!” He hollers over the raucous din, tears shining in his eyes. “Just like your father, you’ll reign forever!”

Your eyes start brimming over again, overwhelmed. The tears roll down your cheeks, smearing streaks of sweat and grime from the race. But you can’t stop beaming.

All at once, the rest of the crew picks up on Antonio’s declaration. Their cheers and chants coalesce into one booming refrain:

“La Re-gi-na! La Re-gi-na!”

The sheer adulation washes over you in waves, every face beaming up at you in utter reverence. You find yourself struggling to take it all in. In a few incredible seasons, you’ve elevated yourself into the realm of legend in their eyes.

Charles wraps his arms around you from behind, steadying you as your knees start to go weak. You can feel his smile radiant against your neck as he cheers and whoops right along with the rest of them.

“You hear them?” He chuckles, kissing your temple. “It’s all for you, mia regina! My Queen.”

Hearing your love, your partner, your other half call you that sets off a fresh round of giggles and sobs. Turning in his embrace, you loop your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply.

When you finally part, you look out over the still-roaring crowd, many of them carrying elaborate signs with intricate drawings depicting you as a regal sovereign. Some have fashioned ornate crowns out of random merch and foam, holding them high. Others set off flares and smoke bombs in Ferrari red.

For a moment, their euphoric cheers fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears. Closing your eyes, you let the enormity of the moment wash over you, embracing the pride and humility and disbelieving joy.

This is your coronation. The new ruler of the Scuderia — la regina di Ferrari.

“La Regina di Ferrari! La Regina del Mondo!”

You can only chuckle in disbelief, Antonio and Ricky carefully taking your hands to hoist you up onto their shoulders in throne-like celebration. Charles is right by your side, standing vigil as your King Consort.

As the party spreads out around you, confetti and smoke filling the air, you look out across the ecstatic crowd. All you see are fervent faces, worshiping you as their new Queen of the World.

It’s a delirious scene that you never, ever could’ve imagined. And yet it feels so natural, so right. Like you were born to be in the center of this storm of jubilation. This is your true home.

And now, you’ve taken your rightful place as its ruler.

Mexico City burns long into the night in tribute to the newly-coronated Queen. Tomorrow, the party will likely continue all the way back to Maranello. But in this moment, you’re lost in the swirl of ecstasy, allowing yourself to be swept up in the currents of adoration.

La Regina di Ferrari.

La Regina del Mondo.

***

Eight Years Later

Jules can barely contain his excitement as you and Charles help him into the little red race suit. He’s practically vibrating with energy, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Easy there, petit coureur,” Charles chuckles, ruffling Jules’ hair affectionately. “We’ll get you suited up and on the track soon enough.”

“I’m gonna beat everyone!” Jules declares confidently. You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“That’s my boy,” you say with a wink. “Just like your Papa and me.”

Charles grins and pulls Jules into a hug. “We’ll see about that, won’t we? Today’s just for fun though, remember? No official points or anything.”

“I know, I know,” Jules says impatiently. “But I’m still gonna win!”

You laugh and swing him up into your arms, peppering his face with kisses until he squeals with delight. “Whatever you say, liebling. Now let’s get you out on that track!”

The three of you make your way out to the karting circuit, hand-in-hand. You can already see a small crowd starting to form along the fences, phones and cameras at the ready. A familiar scenario, even at such a low-key local event.

“Mama, Papa, look!” Jules points excitedly. “Those people want to take pictures!”

“That’s right, schatzi,” you say gently. “Your Papa and I are pretty well known in motorsports.”

“Like movie stars?” His eyes go wide.

Charles laughs. “Something like that, I suppose. More like … really famous racecar drivers.”

“Whoa ...” Jules seems to be processing this new realization. “You’re the best ever, right? The bestest?”

You share an amused look with Charles. “Well, we’ve had our fair share of success,” you hedge.

“Your mother is a multi-time World Champion,” Charles says proudly. “As am I. We did pretty okay, I think.”

“Woooaahh!” Jules looks absolutely awestruck, like his little mind has been blown. It’s both adorable and bittersweet — your own child, only just now grasping the level of your accomplishments and fame.

The crowd has grown considerably by the time you reach the pit area, people pressing against the barriers in hopes of getting a glimpse of the royal family of Maranello. A small team of event staff try valiantly to keep order, but it’s a losing battle.

“Excuse me! Y/N! Can we get a photo?”

“Charles! Over here, please!”

“Oh my god, is that little Jules? He’s so cute!”

Jules clings a bit closer to you and Charles, startled by the commotion. You pull him protectively against your side.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “Just some fans who are excited to see us.”

Charles gives the crowd a regretful smile and a small wave before ushering you both past the security team and into the pit area. The calmer, more controlled setting seems to ease Jules’ nerves.

“Why were all those people yelling and taking pictures?” He asks with a small frown.

“Like I said, we’re pretty famous racers,” Charles explains patiently. “A lot of people know who we are and want our autographs or photos with us.”

“Like celebrities!” Jules says, the admiring light returning to his eyes.

You laugh and ruffle his hair again. “Something like that, yeah. Your Papa and I have had a very successful racing career over the years.”

“The best careers,” Charles amends with a wink at you. “Multiple world titles each.”

“World titles?” Jules looks utterly baffled by the concept. “Like … the best in the whole world?”

“Exactly,” you confirm, feeling that familiar swell of pride. “We were the fastest drivers in the world, for a few years at least.”

“Whooaa ...” Jules seems torn between awe and disbelief. “You’re like … superheroes!”

You and Charles both crack up at the adorable comparison.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Charles laughs, “but I suppose to some we come pretty close, eh?”

He scoops Jules up and swings him around, making him shriek with laughter. You watch them with a content smile, suddenly aware of how blessed you are to have this life — your incredible husband, your precious son, the career successes you both achieved. It’s more than you ever could have dreamed.

“Alright,” Papa says, setting Jules back down. “Why don’t you go grab your kart and we’ll get you out on the track? Think you can take on the world champions?”

Jules gives a determined nod, that familiar fire blazing in his eyes — the same look you’ve seen in your husband’s familiar green ones a thousand times over the years. “You bet! I’ll show you how it’s done!”

With one last hair ruffle, you send him scampering off excitedly. Charles slides an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” He murmurs against your temple. “So much like us at that age. I can already tell he’s going to be a hell of a driver someday.”

You lean into his embrace with a contented sigh. “He is … and just look at how the crowd reacted to him. He’s barely grasped that we’re famous, and now he’s already getting mobbed himself. Our little star in the making.”

Charles makes a rueful sound. “We’re going to have to get used to that, I suppose.”

“Oh, I think we can handle it,” you say lightly. “We’ve had plenty of practice being in the spotlight, after all.”

He laughs and drops a kiss to your hair. “That’s true enough. As long as we stick together, we can get through anything.”

“Exactly.” You turn in his arms to face him properly, cupping his jaw tenderly. “You, me, Jules … nothing else matters as long as we have each other.”

Charles’ eyes are warm with devotion as he gazes down at you. “My soulmate. My family. How did I ever get so lucky?”

He leans in to kiss you, slow and sweet, the rest of the world temporarily fading away. You lose yourself in the familiar comfort of his embrace, the love you share-

“Ewww, gross! Stop kissing!”

You break apart with a laugh to find Jules making over-exaggerated gagging noises nearby.

“And the moment’s ruined,” Charles teases, keeping an arm looped around your waist.

You bend down to Jules’ eye level with a mock stern look. “You just wait until you’re all grown up with a sweetheart of your own. Then you’ll understand.”

He scrunches up his nose theatrically. “Never! Girls are gross!”

You and Charles share an amused look.

“If you say so,” Charles chuckles. “Now let’s get that kart fired up.”

Jules’ entire demeanor shifts in an instant, that fierce competitiveness surfacing once again. He scrambles into the cockpit of his little kart and takes firm hold of the wheel, looking suddenly years beyond his age.

“You’re going down!” He declares brazenly. “I’ll leave you both in the dust!”

And just like that, the proud parents are replaced by your familiar racing mentalities — the thrill of competition, the desire to win. You share a conspiratorial grin with Charles.

“Is that so?” He taunts playfully. “In that case, no more taking it easy on you two.”

You bend down to kiss Jules’ forehead, unable to resist a parting quip. “Promise you won’t be sad … because Mama always wins.”

With that, Charles heads off to grab his own kart, leaving you and Jules alone for a brief moment. He looks up at you with shining eyes.

“You’re my hero, Mama,” he says simply. “And Papa too. I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”

You feel your heart swell fit to burst, filled with more love than you could possibly put into words. Bending down, you pull your beautiful little boy into a fierce hug, eyes shining with unshed happy tears.

“Oh liebling … you already are. You’re everything we could have dreamed of and more.”

You press a lingering kiss to the top of his head, overwhelmed with affection. When you finally pull back, there are indeed tears shining in your eyes.

“Now go show your parents what you’ve got, baby,” you say with a watery smile. “I can’t wait to see you out there.”

Jules gives you a determined nod, eyes blazing with that trademark fire. “You got it, Mama! Get ready to lose!”

With that, he slams down the visor on his helmet and revs the little engine. You step back with a laugh, watching him peel out onto the track with all the confidence and flair of a seasoned pro. Like parents, like son indeed.

By the time Charles rejoins you, his own kart idling beside yours, Jules has already completed a couple of warm up laps. You can’t resist shooting Charles a smug grin.

“Well, well … looks like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He drives just like you.”

Charles snorts, clearly trying to downplay his obvious pride. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s all your genes coming through.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a sudden commotion from the fences draws your attention. The crowd has grown even larger, people pressing against the barriers with raised phones and voices calling out excitedly.

“Oh my god, it’s them!”

“They’re so cute together!!”

“Over here, please! This way!”

You share a resigned look with Charles as event staff rush to try and control the growing swarm.

“This is what it’s going to be like from now on, isn’t it?” You murmur. “Our little family, constantly in the spotlight.”

Charles shrugs, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he watches Jules blaze by. “What else is new? We’ve been there our whole careers. At least this time, we get to share the fame together … as a family.”

You lean into his side with a contented smile. Out on the track, Jules whips past in a blur of determination, completely unbothered by the fawning crowd. Just a little boy living out his dream, regardless of who his parents might be.

“You know what?” You say softly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Charles drops a kiss to your hair as the roar of the crowd and engines swells around you. “Me neither, mon amour. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

[aluciahaz]

Mommy kink x reader fix for luci pls, idc the circumstances, I’m desperate here.

arent we all 😔 here u go!! it was pretty fun writing this, i love METAPHORS!!!!

touch of temptation

—lucifer x gn!reader

—includes : sub!lucifer, dom!reader, mommy kink, edging

lucifer’s been alone for quite some time now. yet, when you came around, you made sure to change that immediately.

of course, due to the absence of affection for years, he’s stuck to you like glue, always perking up when he sees you enter a room and running toward you with his stupid little grin.

albeit, adorable stupid little grin.

his desire for touch was not only apparent during daily life, always hooking his arm around you or poking you in jest, but in the nightlife as well.

lucifer was needy. desperate. his longing for touch was one you indulged in without question much of the time, yet some nights the two of you agreed upon abstaining him from such wants. he was the king of hell after all, of course, he’d be a little freaky.

which is why he was sobbing underneath your maddening touch, his head falling back as he cries in dismay from his inability to finish due to your quick reactions whenever he’d get close, pulling your hand away just in time to elicit a noisy whine from the king.

“l-let—me cum, mommy, please!” he wails as you drive into him, pushing him to the brink of insanity as your hand returns to his cock. he bucks up into your hand wildly, only to have his hips held down with a stern push.

“not yet, baby. stay strong for me,” you coo, yet your soft tone goes against your actions, sharp, fast, and most importantly, ruthless.

he snivels before taking in a deep, shuttering breath, nodding his head weakly at your request.

“o-okay! i’ll tr—AH!” his fingers dig into your skin, grasping onto your back like his life depended on it.

and it only gets rougher when you let go of his cock.

the scream of frustration that ripped from his throat was adorable, considering how it would get interrupted by his choking wails. you can’t help but place a kiss on top of his forehead, soothing him just a bit. he always melts at the slightest act of affection, it’s wonderful.

his legs wrap around your waist as though he‘s a snake trying to constrict its prey. he needed to hold onto you like this, to feel you as much as he could. you were his temptation, and he was willing to lose himself in it.

“pl-please please! mommy, i need—! ngh—f-fuck!” he pleads aimlessly, finding himself lost in his seemingly endless pleasure.

“use your words, baby,” you tell him, knowing fully well as you thrust faster that he would be unable to form a single sentence.

“ha—i, you—so goodwait—AH! c-can’t think-!” the fallen angel seemed to find his place back in heaven, considering how far up his head was in the clouds. but, he’s brought back down to hell as your hand finds its place around his shaft again, making him jolt in shock.

he whines louder and louder, tears never stopping as he takes what you give in full stride, never trying to go against your earlier command.

he was as sweet as an apple and red as one too with a never faltering blush across his face and chest. you couldn’t help but take a bite, his neck being the perfect area for a mark.

the shaky moans that leave him are beautiful, and with how well he was taking all of your love, you just had to give him his reward.

“you’re such a good boy,” you huff out a chuckle as you hear him whine in delight, soaking up the praise needily.

“you can cum for me now, my love,” you coo, drinking in his face of pure gratitude as he hears you.

“c-can i? can i re—ah—! really?” he asks as he cries in joyous disbelief, looking at you with wide, tear-filled eyes.

“yes, baby,” you say gently, and without a second’s hesitation, he shudders and screams in mind-breaking ecstasy, the horns on his head slowly peeking from his head as he finishes.

“th-thank—! thank—! thank y-you—mh—mommy!” he wails, his eyes rolling to the back of his head briefly before slowly looking back up at you with a dazed look.

his legs still tremble around your waist before slipping down to the bed, completely exhausted. you take your time to care for him, cleaning and making sure to cuddle your little touch-starved lover as quickly as you could.

he’s already asleep in your arms in the first few seconds, snoring lightly. you kiss the back of his neck delicately before heading off to rest as well.

and it would be peaceful until morning, where, like every morning, he would whine and clutch onto you to make sure you wouldn’t leave the bed, never able to fulfill his endless hunger for your touch.

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[ilovenatasharomanoff2-0]

Nerdy Natasha Hcs pt.2

warnings: masturbation, blowjobs, edging, I don't even know

pairings: intersex Natasha x fem reader

Sfw

. Nerdy Natasha who: Always brings you to a museum as a date. She always says it will be fun for both of you (she just wants to go and see old artifacts.) The whole time you guys are at the museum, you stare and smile, and she drags you along to something cool that she found.

. Nerdy Natasha who Gets so shy when you hold her hand in the Hallways. Her head would always be down as a blush coated her face. You would tell her she's adorable and kiss her as you enter class.

. Nerdy Natasha who: Will always sneak behind you and embrace herself in you. Her strong arms would wrap around your waist as she tucked her head between your neck while you cooked breakfast for the two of you.

. Nerdy Natasha who: Will go to the Lego store at the mall and buy one of those Lego flower sets and two Lego people that look like you two. She would build the flowers in 30 minutes and drive over to your house as fast as she could, sprinting out of her car just to give you your gift. She couldn't even talk because she was out of breath.

. Nerdy Natasha who: Comes up to you and gives you a hug as she wraps her head down on your shoulder if she had a bad day. You would be scratching her head and telling her it's gonna be okay. She would also be bending down so much because of the height difference.

. Nerdy Natasha who: Can't stop talking about you to her family at dinner. Yelena gets super annoyed whenever Natasha goes on a tangent about how great you are and how she would never date anyone else. But Alexi and Melina are super invested in her life. A huge smile always plaster their faces when she talks about you.

. Nerdy Natasha who will always take photos of you with a Polaroid camera and hang those photos up on the wall. You always tell her to take them down because you don't think you look that good, and she will literally talk for hours about how you are the most beautiful girl in the world and how you are the one thing she could stare at for days.

. Nerdy Natasha who Loves it t when you sketch random drawings on her arm. you would carefully move your pen over her skin and veins while the teacher discusses a new project due in the next few weeks.

. Nerdy Natasha who will literally do anything you ask her. You need her to tie your shoe because it's not tight enough? She's kneeling in the middle of the dirty sidewalk tying your shoe. You're craving something that's not in your pantry? She's jogging to the nearest store to get you the food that you want.

. Nerdy Natasha who would always let you fix her eyebrows for her. She would lie on her space-themed bed as you lay on top of her, carefully plucking the out-of-place eyebrows with a tweezer. She would always complain about how bad it hurt too.

"Oww, y/n, be gentle. I can feel that you know that, right?"

"Stop it, Natasha; I know that didn't hurt. You're just being a big crybaby right now."

. Nerdy Natasha who will carry your bridal style to her car if it had been raining the previous day and you want to keep your new heels neat.

. Nerdy Natasha who Would be on one of those kiss cam videos at her school. She would be so shy because she was being recorded and would only give you a small peck on the lips. Everyone found it adorable, though.

. Nerdy Natasha who loves doing skincare with you. You would always have her sit on a chair as you put moisturizers and serums on her face. After a while, though, she would always complain about being unable to see because her glasses would be off.

"Y/nnn, are you almost done? I can't see, and my optome-"

"My gosh, Nat, do you ever stop whining?"

. Nerdy Natasha who loves to do movie marathons with you. And it will be the stupidest movie, too. They would have bad CGI and a bad soundtrack. After a while, you wouldn't mind because Natasha was having the time of her life.

. Nerdy Natasha who loves to go on Ikea dates with you. She would always point out a cute bedframe or couch that she liked and rant about how she's gonna put that in the house that the two of you will buy when you are done with high school and college.

nsfw

. Nerdy Natasha who sitting in her desk chair with her arms tied behind the head of the seat while you used a Fleshlight to get her off. She would be begging you to ride her so she could feel your pussy around her.

. Nerdy Natasha who would have the biggest mommy kink ever.

"Please let me make you feel good, Mommy, please."

. Nerdy Natasha who would wake up in the middle of the night with the biggest hard-on ever. She would reach over to her nightstand to get her glasses and look down at her boxers. She would be so scared to wake you up and tell you what happened she would quietly lay back down and hump your ass till she came. You obviously woke up after the first few minutes because of her loud breathing and whining. You didn't help her either. You just pretended to be asleep.

. Nerdy Natasha, who is almost on the verge of tears while you suck her off under her desk while she's studying for an upcoming exam. You whispered in her ear that she needed a 'little break'. Next thing she knows, her cock is stuffed in your mouth.

. Nerdy Natasha who gets caught watching porn by you, She's so embarrassed. She wasn't jerking off or anything to it (she was hard though) she had a pen and notebook by her side with a couple of notes written down on the white sheet of paper.

"Y/n! You said you weren't going to be home this early!" She yelled out to you, frantically shutting her laptop.

"Nat, baby. I could've helped you learn some of that stuff, you know that, right honey?"

. Nerdy Natasha who stays having dark hickeys on her neck. Yelena thinks it's the funniest thing in the world while Melina and Alexei are yelling at her once more. She would let you make a heart with hickeys on her back

. Nerdy Natasha who Sends you a picture of her lying on her bed with a hard-on. She would text you about how desperate she is to be inside you and that you must come home soon.

. Nerdy Natasha who would always be so mesmerized by your boobs. You don't think she's actually ever seen anyone else's before. She would be so scared to touch them too. You would lead her hand to your chest so she could feel them.

. Nerdy Natasha who always gets edged by you.

. Nerdy Natasha who will have a shopping basket online filled with different kinds of sex toys that she would never tell you about. You would go on her computer to look at the notes for a class and instead find the website she was looking at with a shopping bag full of toys.

[ssprayberrythings]

my best friend | OP81

oscar piastri x ginger!female reader / smau fic

warnings: none except if you get triggered by best friends to lovers than look out..

this is just a self indulgent fic seeing as i am a ginger and i just wanted to live in my delulu for a minute. thats all. thanks 👉👈

-

yourusername posted on instagram

oscarpiastri, landonorris, danielricciardo, lilymhe & others liked 

oscars getting better at the picture taking thing 🙆‍♀️ 

📸: oscarpiastri 

view all comments 

fan1: y/n back at the slaying 

fan22: go oscar !! 

fan15: im new; who is she ?? 

╰ fan1: she’s a friend of oscar’s. there’s been some rumours they might be dating but neither have confirmed nor denied. she goes to some races and has become friends with some of the other drivers and some of the WAG’s so we just accept her as an honorary wag regardless if they’re actually dating. she’s also known for interacting with fans !! 

╰ liked by yourusername 

╰ fan15: ooooh thanks!! 

oscarpiastri: i told you, you just had to give me some time to learn the angles and lighting 😎

╰ yourusername: yeah, yeah, i know 

landonorris: but is he a better photographer than i am? ;) 

╰ yourusername: you already know the answer to that ;) 

╰ fan12: i love y/n and lando’s friendship 

-

oscarpiastri posted on their story  

caption: she insisted on making goodbye cupcakes @yourusername 

╰ yourusername: they turned out pretty good i’d say 

╰ landonorris: bring me some !!! 

more replies…

╰ fan17: she’s the cutest 

╰ fan22: y’all have to be dating 

╰ fan6: i want a cupcake made by y/n 

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: bye bye oscar pastry. have fun driving fast cars 🫡 @oscarpiastri

╰ oscarpiastri: really? of all photos? AND OSCAR PASTRY? 😑

╰ yourusername: yk you low-key love it 

╰ oscarpiastri: im uninviting you from my races 

╰ yourusername: do it. i’ll just get lando to invite me 😎

more replies…

╰ fan3: goals, i think? 

╰ fan28: hes so cute 

╰ mclaren: 🧡 

-

yourusername posted on instagram  

landonorris, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, mclaren & others liked 

what’s a soft launch? 

view all comments 

fan11: BESTIE THIS IS ONE 

fan23: so is she soft launching oscar or….

landonorris: 😏

╰ fan2: LANDO WHAT DO YOU KNOW 

oscarpiastri: don’t ask me, i’m not on social media enough to know 

╰ yourusername: thats such a lie. you’re always on your phone 🤨

╰ fan15: if they are dating, i love their bickering and if they’re just friends, i love this dynamic 

yourbestfriend: i wonder who gave you the caption idea 🤔

╰ yourusername: i love youuuuuuu

-

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: early flights 😴 

╰ oscarpiastri: see you soon. safe travels:) 

more replies…

╰ fan1: yes she’s on her way to her first race of the season 

╰ fan5: cant wait to see her and oscar !!! *hopefully* 

yourusername posted on instagram  

oscarpiastri, landonorris, fan22, yourbestfriend, fan12 & others liked 

i miss you and our kitchen shenanigans 

view all comments 

fan24: okay but does she miss oscar even if she is travelling to see him? or does she miss her boyfriend who she just left? i need answers 

fan22: that has to be oscar, c’mon…

oscarpiastri: its giving clingy

╰ yourusername: shut up 

lilymhe: goals ‼️

╰ yourusername: girl stop, you and alex give me life 

╰ lilymhe: nope, thats all you and your man 

╰ yourusername: i love you 

╰ lilymhe: love youuuu 

-

lilymhe posted on their story  

caption: missed my favourite ginger 👩🏻‍🦰 @yourusername 

╰ yourusername: missed you more 😘

more replies…

╰ fan81: your friendship >>>

╰ fan4: lily & y/n i love you 

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: reunited with the besties 🧡 @landonorris @oscarpiastri

╰ landonorris: happy you’re here:) now oscar can shut up about how much he misses you

╰ yourusername: ah and he calls me clingy 🙄

╰ oscarpiastri: ❤️

more replies…

╰ fan1: “besties” sure y/n 

╰ fan24: they look so precious 

╰ fan7: just post a relationship post pleaseeeee

-

oscarpiastri posted on instagram  

yourusername, landonorris, mclaren & others liked 

Great first race back! Cant wait to see how the rest of the season goes..🧡 #PapayaNation

tagged: mclaren 

view all comments 

f1: 👏

mclaren: You did great Oscar! 

f1fan: that was such a great race to start the season!!!

fan23: the best part was that y/n was there cheering him on 

yourusername: i’ll admit i’m pretty proud. good job oscar pastry 😏

╰ oscarpiastri: wow youre being nice..kind of 

╰ yourusername: dont get used to it

╰ fan26: y/n’s love language is bullying you cant convince me otherwise 

╰ liked by yourusername 

fan13: this is definitely mclarens year, i can tell !! 

landonorris: good job out there mate! 

╰ liked by oscarpiastri 

-

yourusername posted on instagram  

oscarpiastri, lilymhe, landonorris, fan22, fan1 & others liked 

emptying out my camera roll 🧚🏻‍♀️

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri

view all comments 

fan12: THE FOURTH PIC

fan2: Y/N THIS SOFT LAUNCH IS AN EXTRA LEVEL OF SOFT 

╰ liked by yourusername

landonorris: of all moments to post…why that one 

╰ yourusername: cuz its funny 😆

oscarpiastri: i had no idea you even took that photo..

╰ yourusername: im like the paps 📸

fan15: y/n truly is the cutest thats all i have to say

╰ fan1: agreed !! 

-

oscarpiastri posted on their story  

caption: a ginger found a ginger 🐱 @yourusername 

╰ yourusername: the loml 🥹

╰ oscarpiastri: who?? 

╰ yourusername: the cat obviously..who else

╰ oscarpiastri: uhmmmm..🤨

more replies…

╰ fan12: i want to hug her 

╰ fan44: are y’all dating..we need to know 

╰ fan21: dating: yes or no? 

╰ fan16: ignore this if youre dating…

Oscar looked through some of his responses of his recent story 

“I think we should tell them” he said looking at you putting his phone away. You were sitting down, wearing one of his jumpers and some sweats

“Are you sure?” you asked giving him your full attention 

“Yeah, they already suspect it and plus our anniversary is coming up its a perfect time to do it” he suggested walking over to where you sat on the couch, plopping down next to you. 

He put his head on your shoulder as you moved slightly to make room for him “That would be cute. I have so many pictures I want to post of you” you told him liking his idea 

“We could also post on our stories and not give any context before actually posting” you thought out loud

“Im fine with that” he agreed, lifting his head off your shoulder and turning to fully face you 

“I love you” he told you leaning in to be met with a kiss, you giggled quickly giving him the kiss he wanted “I love you, even if you do drive me crazy” you whispered 

“Hey! I do not” he pulled away pouting “You do” you chuckled “But I love you for it” you finished.

He couldn’t fight you on that so instead he repositioned himself and curled up to you, you smiled and started brushing your fingers through his hair. Eventually you both fell asleep like that, enjoying the closeness and warmth you offered to each other. 

-

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: my second home 🧡

*replies disabled* 

oscarpiastri posted on their story  

caption: never letting you go 🫂

*replies disabled* 

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: hints of you are everywhere ☺️

*replies disabled*

oscarpiastri posted on their story  

caption: 😘

*replies disabled* 

-

yourusername posted on instagram   

oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend, mclaren, lilymhe & others liked

no surprise here but happy anniversary bub🧡 thanks for being my partner in crime and giving the best hugs..i love you oscar pastry !

tagged: oscarpiastri 

view all comments 

landonorris: ABOUT TIME 

oscarpiastri: i love you long time.❤️

╰ liked by yourusername

fan12: we kneW IT 

fan23: OH MY FINALLY 

lilymhe: lets go on double dates now !! ☺️ 

╰ yourusername: sounds good to me 

fan2: “giving the best hugs” I KNEW OSCAR GAVE GOOD HUGS 

fan7: SOMEONE HELP, IM NOT DOING WELL 

╰ fan26: SAME 

╰ fan11: same same 

╰ mclaren: us too 

-

oscarpiastri posted on instagram   

yourusername, landonorris, mclaren, f1 and others liked 

Cant imagine my life without you. Here's to more years to come 🧡

tagged: yourusername 

view all comments 

yourusername: I LOVE LOVE YOU 😘

╰ oscarpiastri: DIDDO😘

╰ yourusername: 🤨

fan13: THIER BICKERING AND BULLYING EACH OTHER JUST GOT BETTER KNOWING THEYRE ACTUALLY DATING 

fan4: MY HEART IS BURSTING 

mclaren: our favourite papaya couple 🧡

╰ liked by oscarpiastri & yourusername 

fan25: the mclaren admin being y/noscar’s biggest fan is my roman empire 

╰ fan22: girl same 

landonorris: yeah yeah we get it your happy and in love..🙄

╰ yourusername: we’ll be your wing man and woman so you don’t have to third wheel all the time 

╰ landonorris: no thank you. 

╰ oscarpiastri: too bad, she’s already going through her friends that are single that she thinks would be your type 

╰ liked by yourusername

-

i hope you enjoyed this! as i said it was just a self indulgent fic that i wrote for myself but maybe it'll bring you the same joy reading it as it brought me writing it 🧡

my next fic is a danny one that im excited about so look out for that!

[noellesturniolo]

Angst with Matt please, Matt has been ignoring y/n for a couple of days and when she try to talk to him he get mad and they get into an argument, with a happy ending please

𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑?

a/n: i’m so excited to do this omg so many ideas and i’m gonna make it kind of based if is it over now by ts ofc 🤭🤭

warnings: foul language, drinking, (I PROMISE ITS A HAPPY ENDING)

“Matt talk to me”

He turned away from me, shutting the door to our shared bedroom. I look at the two boys behind me.

“I fucking told you.”

As I walk towards the kitchen, Chris and Nick follow behind I take my seat at the counter and bury my face in my hands as the two boys sit across from me.

“It's been two days and we haven't talked at all like he’ll sleep next to me but he won't touch me, he won't talk to me.”

Tears start to fall down my face as I look at Chris and Nick, “Maybe he's just going through something, I mean I don't know why he'd do that to you.” Chris said while looking at me with empathy.

“I don't give a fuck what's wrong with him Chris, he shouldn't be ignoring her. It's shitty, I'm going to talk to him.” Nick spoke up clearly mad.

He walked towards our bedroom and opened the door before slamming it shut and then all you heard was both of them yelling. Which only made me cry harder, it felt like a piece of me was missing. Chris came up behind me and held me as I sobbed in his arms. “I just miss his voice and his touch Chris.” my voice broke.

“I know, I know, and it's okay.” he held me tighter until the door opened yet again as Nick stormed out Matt trailed behind him. “Chris get your ass in this room right now me and you need to talk,” Nick says with a worried face, leaving me and Matt next to each other. I feel Matt's gaze on me as I turn to look at him he looks away before sitting on the couch.

The muffled voices of Chris and Nick are heard through the walls but I can't quite make out what they're saying.

“Matt just fucking talk to me, I'm your girlfriend.”

He looks up at me before looking down. The door opens yet again. “Okay since Matt wants to be a bitch, we are going to a party okay? Everyone needs to cheer the fuck up bitches.”

Quickly wiping the tears away from my face, I throw Matt the keys give him a glare, and go to the bedroom to change into some nicer clothes and shoes as Matt goes to get shoes he eyes my body before grabbing a pair and putting them on and leaving.

Once everyone is ready, we all pile into the car. I try to look at the bright side, a party should be fun and I'm not gonna let him ruin it. The drive to the party is silent and tense, but finally, Nick opens the door after arriving at the house, and we all get out.

Immediately everyone wanders off to god knows where but of course I go for the alcohol. I take some of the strongest ones and mix them. I wonder around the party stumbling after a good couple of cups of alcohol.

“Hey, beautiful what's your name?” an unfamiliar voice says as I turn and see a tall blonde guy.

“Oh, I'm y/n.” I nod and try to turn back around.

“Not so fast where are you going?” he grabs my arm as I try to pry it off.

“To see my boyfriend get off of me.” his grip tightens as I look around for help.

“I don't think so let's go upstairs.”

“No, no leave me alone” I slur, before hearing a familiar voice. My favorite voice.

“She said get off of her, so get the fuck off of her.”

The guy's grip lightens and I look to see Matt, as he pulls my arm up the stairs into a quiet room away from the crowd and blaring music.

“How drunk are you, y/n?” he looks worried.

“Why the fuck do you care you haven't cared the whole week.” I slur.

“Maybe because of, hmm let's think, your my fucking girlfriend?”

“you haven’t acted like it Matthew, I’ve sat here nights upon fucking nights crying my eyes out in the bathroom next to the room we slept in, and you heard me you didn’t give a fuck. so what’s your issue, Matt?”

“because I feel like I’m going to fucking lose you y/n, can’t you see that? your addicting, you know that. I’m scared, I just can’t lose the girl I’ve been waiting for since 5th grade.”

his words were like venom hitting right where it hurts, I ran up to hug him.

“Matt, I’m here. I’m not leaving Matt I love you.”

he started relaxing in my arms, suffocating me from his tight grip. “I love you y/n, let’s go home.”

“okay baby.”

Matt turns to leave before turning back around and holding my face as he closes the gap between us with a passionate kiss.

[elvensorceress]

not quite tuesday tidbit teases

it's probably tuesday somewhere and this just popped in my head and I wanted to share. what do you think? do we want more?

tagging if any of you want to share something 😘 @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @messyhairdiaz @rainbow-nerdss @tizniz @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @monsterrae1 @diazsdimples @watchyourbuck @wh0re-behavi0r @911onabc @chaosandwolves @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @rogerzsteven @epicbuddieficrecs @bekkachaos @fiona-fififi @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @lover-of-mine @mikereads @jesuiscenseedormir @lemonzestywrites 💕

It’s just after midnight and Buck is going to bed. 

He’s been saying this for a couple hours but YouTube had too many AItA videos and Instagram had those gorgeously edited food recipe posts and he doesn’t even want to talk about the doomscrolling of TikTok. But he had a day off and it was supposed to be with Tommy so they could take the weekend and go somewhere fun and romantic, but then Tommy had to work. Buck could’ve gone in with the rest of A shift. But it was nice to have some alone time for himself so he took time for himself. 

His phone goes off with a call five seconds after he’s gotten into bed. It’s a number he doesn’t know. So he could ignore it. Or wait until they’ve left a message. But who would call at this hour for no reason? Or for scamming, telemarketing reasons? 

So Buck answers. 

“Buckley?” The man on the other end says. He sounds vaguely familiar but not enough that Buck came put a name or face with a voice. 

“Uh, yeah? Who is this?” 

“Mehta. Captain Mehta. Of the 133.”

“Oh, hey,” Buck says, automatically friendly and smiling. That makes sense now. “What’s up? Why the— why are you calling?” Why would he call in the middle of the night?

Why does anyone call in the middle of the night.

“Buckley,” he says and it sounds… it sounds… it sounds like…

They have him now. They’ll take care of him. Why don’t we get you cleaned up. He’s in good hands. They’ll rush him to surgery. You don’t have to worry. Let’s get you cleaned up. 

Lets get you cleaned up.

Buck can’t breathe. His whole body is cold. Frozen. 

He tries to get out of bed. He tries, but just slides to the floor beside it. He doesn’t make it any further.

“Buckley, there was a helicopter crash. Your team, our team we went to rescue the pilot. Your, uh, sorry, I don’t know what you call him, but your boyfriend? Life partner? He—”

Oh god. No. No, that’s not. That’s not happening. That is not what is happening right now. This can’t be a, Tommy is dead and I’m letting you know. It can’t be that. It’s not. They were going to—

They were supposed to have a romantic trip together. Wine tasting and some kind of museum Tommy thought Buck would love and maybe a visit to a hot springs up north and they were going to watch the sunset and the sunrise and—

And he can’t be dead. He can’t be.

“He’s alive,” Mehta says. “We’re at Cedars-Sinai. He’s alive, but. It doesn’t look good. He’s in the ICU now. He’s critical.”

Buck pushes himself up. Has to. He has to be there. 

He barely remembers to thank Mehta or even end the call before he switches off his phone and runs out the door. 

~

The drive is a blur. The drive is probably very illegal and he doesn’t know how he doesn’t crash, but he doesn’t have time to wait for an Uber or for anyone else. He runs as fast as possible to the ER lobby, and almost runs directly into Chimney. 

Not almost. Buck crashes into him and almost knocks them both to the floor but that almost actually is an almost because Chim somehow steadies them both. 

He’s pale. Shaken up. His eyes are red. He’s been crying. 

“Chim,” Buck says as broken as he feels. “Chim, where— where is he? What happened? How did this happen? Please tell me he’s okay. He can’t be dying, right? That can’t be happening?”

Chim opens his mouth and grips Buck’s arms tighter, still trying to steady him. “Buck, we— we don’t know yet. It was bad, but he’s tough. You know that. He could be fine.”

Buck lets out a broken whimper and backs away from him. “No. He is fine. He’s fine and this isn’t happening. I just— Chim, I just found him. I can’t lose him already.” 

There’s a flash of something on Chimney’s face but there’s movement around Buck, too. Other people. Bobby, he’s pretty sure. And Hen. They would be here. They would try to comfort him. But they don’t need to because it’s fine. Everything is fine and this isn’t happening. 

It can’t be happening. 

He can’t be dying.

There’s more movement and it’s all blurry, probably filtered through tears, but then everything stops. The world stops. 

Tommy is right in front of him. Whole, alive, real, a little rumpled and there are bloody scratches and bandages on his face and around his arm. But he’s here. He’s fine.

Buck slams into him, throws his arms around him, and sobs as he clutches him. 

“Baby,” Tommy says softly as he hugs Buck tightly, cradling him, comforting him, and Buck can breathe. He’s not frozen. Everything is okay. They were all wrong. Buck knew they were wrong. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Tommy tells him and holds him tighter. 

Buck pulls back just to look at him. “No, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He takes a deep breath and smiles because Tommy is fine. He’s right here and everything is good. Buck touches Tommy’s battered face and caresses him gently. He’s bruised and also pale, and very soggy. It’s been stormy tonight. Another reason why Buck wasn’t all that eager to go out in it. “They told me—  fuck, they scared me. I thought— I thought I lost you. I was so scared. I don’t want to lose you. He told me—Mehta, Captain Mehta— he called and told me there was a helicopter crash and my boyfriend was in the ICU and he’s critical and it didn’t look good, and I can’t— god, I can’t. Tommy, I—”

Tommy’s face isn’t good. It’s pale. Bad. Not smiling. Not relieved. It falls and he can’t even hide the devastation on it. He looks like guilt and death, and his mouth moves but nothing comes out. “Evan,” he finally says, barely says. It’s too quiet, too broken. “Evan…”

No. No, Buck doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want to throw up right now. And he just might. His heart is rabbit speed lightning and his legs don’t exist anymore and there’s an awful blackhole of apocalyptic world-ending destruction swirling and growing in his stomach. 

Someone takes his arm. Someone needs his attention. He’s moved from Tommy’s arms because there is no safety or comfort anymore. There’s no relief. There’s no happily ever after, nothing will ever be okay. 

Buck knows why Mehta said what he said. He knows who isn’t here. He knows who would have come to him and immediately comforted him. 

He knows. 

He knows what this is now. It can’t be that. It can’t. Buck doesn’t know anything.

Hen tells him. She holds his arm and says calmly even if it’s broken. Everything is broken. They’re all broken. “Buck. It’s Eddie.”

No. No, it isn’t. It isn’t that either. Buck really can’t take that. It was bad enough, unimaginable enough the other way. It can’t be this. 

He’s already done this. They did this before. More than once. Forty plus feet of cruel earth and a whirling burst of metal and blood all over him. 

Eddie’s blood was all over him. 

“The helicopter went down and got stuck on the cliffs. He went in so he could pull Tommy out, and we got Tommy out,” Hen tells him, every word a knife stabbing through both of them. All of them. 

“He saved me,” Tommy says, quiet and full of regret. “He saved me and went down with it. They thought it was stable enough. It wasn’t. They got him out after. But…”

Buck collapses to his knees on the floor and holds his head in his own hands as if he can somehow hold himself together when there’s no holding himself together. 

It’s Eddie.

It’s Eddie it’s Eddie it’s Eddie. 

Buck shatters like flimsy glass and sobs in all the pieces that are ripped out of him. What about Chris? What about Abuela? What about Eddie’s parents and sisters and friends and everyone else who loves him?

What about Buck? They can’t be BuckandEddie without Eddie. 

“I need to see him,” Buck suddenly says to the closest person who will listen. “I need to be with him. Please. Please.”

There’s arguing that happens. Bobby yells at someone. Hen, Chim, and Tommy stay around him like a protective guard. Until someone finally agrees. He’s not in surgery, they can’t take him to surgery yet. He’s not stable enough. But he’s on a ventilator, life support. They warn him and Buck doesn’t care. He knows how bad these things can be. He’s lived through several. 

They give him five minutes. 

They’ll have to drag him out with an armed guard if they think Buck will agree to only that. But at least it’s something. 

It’s something. 

Eddie is mostly covered. Blankets, wires, tubes, IV lines, bandages. He’s paler than all of them. Slightly blue-purple, cyanotic. They tell him a few things but Buck can’t hear them. He just wants to be with Eddie. 

Buck sits beside him and rests a shaking hand over Eddie’s hand, under the blankets where it’s trying to be warm. Buck would give anything to keep him warm, and alive. 

Eddie needs to stay alive. He needs to. 

Buck rests his forehead on the side of the bed near their joined hands. He would say something if he had the capacity to form words and sentences. The only thing in his head right now is, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.

And that’s probably all he can say. All that really matters. 

Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please, don’t ever leave me.

(read now on AO3)

[secret-sturniolo]

nsfw alphabet - matt sturniolo

a/n - These are just my opinions, so if you don't agree, just be respectful please. And don't worry, I'm doing Chris next!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man is the king of aftercare. I'm talking running a warm bath/shower or getting you some of his clothes to wear.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself is probably his hands, because he knows his partner loves them. Matt is definitely a boob guy, so whether they are big or small he loves your boobs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His favorite way to cum is when you are in missionary and he can just pull out and cum on your stomach.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He would NEVER admit this to you, but he loves when you dom him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's definitely not the most experienced before you, maybe 1-2 bodies max, but he still knows what hes doing. If he doesn't know something, he's not afraid to ask you to show him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He's a sucker for missionary. He loves to be able to kiss you and see your face while hes fucking you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's definitely down to have fun with things, but knows when the right moment is for jokes and when to stay serious. He would never want to hurt your feelings or make you think he's laughing at you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it trimmed short to avoid any awkwardness, and it's his personal preference.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's constantly telling you how much he loves you, he doesn't want to give off the impression that hes just using you for a quick fuck. He definitely likes to set the mood to make you feel special.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He rarely masturbates, only if hes desperate and you're not around to help him. He would much rather have your hands on him than his own.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I feel like he gives off praise kink vibes, constantly wanting reassurance that he's doing a good job making you feel good. Other than that, hes not really a kinky guy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Definitely the bedroom. He likes to have privacy so he can take his time with you. He also likes to fuck you in the shower every once in a while.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Gentle kisses to his jaw and neck drive him crazy. He's also a sucker for subtle teasing, like when you rest your hand on his thigh and slowly move it higher and higher.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not into anything like degradation or impact play because hes so scared of hurting you, physically or emotionally. Also, he's not into anal. He loves your ass, but not being inside it. (lol)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He will never say no to a blowjob, but he loves making his girl feel good. Let's just say he's called Matt the Munch for a reason.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can definitively do both, but he always makes sure to ask you how you want him before you do anything.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If it's been a while and a quickie is the only opportunity you have, he will gladly take it, but he prefers to take his time with you, even if that means waiting a little longer.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He will try almost anything once, but only if you are okay with it and want it too.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

1-2 rounds max, he tends to get tired after he cums and just wants to cuddle.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He's not a fan of toys, both for himself and for you, because he doesn't like watching something that's not his dick make you feel good.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease you to a certain extent, but eventually he can't take it anymore and just wants his hands all over you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Definitely grunts and moans into your ear, but hes not crazy loud.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

On days when hes tired or just wants to mix it up, he loves watching you ride him, using his cock to make you feel good (and hes not afraid to tell you how much he likes it.)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's not huge, but the size is perfect for you. He's proportional in length and girth, just the right amount of everything to fill you up perfectly.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a higher sex drive, but also knows how to turn it off when it's not the right moment.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Give him a couple minutes, and he's out like a light (after he takes care of you first, of course.)

[leog4u]

Game Design and Porn Pt. 1

or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever

Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.

So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what’s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.

Define "porn game" for me, Leo.

There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.

Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.

The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.

Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?

There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.

I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?

Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)

So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.

You get to watch porn when you lose?

To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.

The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.

What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!

Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.

What if we made the porn actual rewards?

Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?

There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.

Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.

Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.

So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.

Plot milestones

In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.

Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”

Rewarding exploration

By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!

So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.

If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?

So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.

That sounds excessive

Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.

I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.

Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?

Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.

Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.

It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.

Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.

So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.

To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.

”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”

It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.

This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources

It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.

(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)

[zzencat]

Their Sexual Tendencies + Traits? (NSFW) - Timeless ⏳

Simply choose from left to right.

(Minors DNI) Nice and simple. What would happen if you got involved? Their tendencies in bed? Intimate behavior? Maybe it’s the one you’ve been ignoring. How about the one you’re with? A future partner? What goes on in their head at night when you’re all they can think about? And if more unfolds? Very TMI. Includes sexual, graphic descriptions and toxic traits.

Must do before you choose: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.

—————————-

Pile 1. “I was a bad girl. I did some bad things.” - Jojo Siwa (lmfaooo)

•right of the bat, “karma” from Jojo siwa played

•I get brat vibes from this pile…are you a brat? lmfao cuz your person’s gonna like that for sure

•or maybe you try to hard to be a brat or appear/act like one? Your person loves it regardless

•this person loves dominating, but they can get just as enthusiastic as a sub. The instant switch and role change is actually pretty impressive, since they do it effortlessly

• I get the vibe they do or will do most of the topping work tho. They can have their lazy days, sure, but they like moving

•dare I say this person is the kinkiest out of the three piles

•^^ we’re talking bondage, role play, slapping(? Damn), everything and all over the above—receiving or giving, they can do it all. Fast raw sex and quickies are hot to them esp

• if you’re poly, this person is okay with that. If you’re not, they’re also okay. they just wanna have sex, end of story 🧌

• is down to literally do it anywhere and everywhere

• if this relationship started off as some kind of fwb or anything with benefits, I wouldn’t be surprised

• if you guys are both in a committed relationship, make sure you try to match their energy in bringing new things to the bedroom

• these people are shower masturbators—the sex drive is actually crazy like- slow your horse for just a second damn

•^^ they don’t even have time to masturbate if you’re with each other all the time. I got the image of a couple going on a trip and they’re in a hotel…yk what comes next. If you live together, cue some jungkook music. There’s no makin it out

• if you’re not together due to long distance stuff, a lot of cam/phone sex. It happens so much that you think they’re jobless (and they could be tbh. Tell em to get a job!!!)

• this person gives me the vibe that they’re not really in an occupation that demands much. It feels like a very lax, low demand and energy job OR they’re a model for something and they make money through content like that

• this person is reallllly good looking tho. It’s how they can get away with a lot of things

• their maturity level is kinda questionable I wont lie…I think you need to teach them some boundaries

• they could take a while to see their faults? Maybe they don’t wanna see or they’re too oooh la la in the sky

• can come off as quite careless. Can even be clingy

• also very prone to peer pressure or self-sabotaging behavior

•avoids conflict like the plague

• open to all body types as long as your face is cute. I think they likely prefer people who don’t look like they’re freaks in the sheets ykwim? The duality is prob what gets em going. But then again, I think anything gets them going. This person is a true horndog of nature

• (I, personally, as Teddy, the reader, feel like I should include why they’re like this—craving physical intimacy so much, but there’s this brushing off/dismissive energy like “forget it they don’t need to know- let’s just have fun and shiii”)

•^^ (if I rephrase what I wanted to include, it might be better. They prob grew up with a lot of siblings/other kids, and not enough love to go around, so they were overlooked, OR no-to-low amount of siblings but not enough physical and emotional intimacy and connection from parents/guardians, so they looked towards external sources.)

• doesn’t have too many expectations tbh (idk if that’s a bad or a good thing, but the root of it is that they don’t wanna pressure people to stay with them or force people into commitment)

• ^^if they fall in love with you and yall date, and you leave one day, it’ll hurt so much that they’ll revert back to the thinking of why commitment didn’t always work for them

•childhood couldn’t show them what true commitment was so if you actually express that you want to be with them exclusively, they’ll be so shocked, to say the least. Like “me? Why me? I’m not anything special, lmfao” . They’re laughing it off and will feel nervous so they’ll cover it up by drinking smth (water or anything), but they’re so used to the sentiment of being “nothing special” that they’re numb to it

• ^^ but if they end up falling in love with you (beware of their nonstop horse sex drive), they’ll be a lot more reserved and laid back than before

• they’ll prob be lazier tho ngl. They’ll take days off work just to have sex with you all day

• they make up for this uselessness feeling through sexual activities

• they think like “why touch yourself alone when I’m right here?”

• when they do masturbate tho, they think about you and your body shifting back and forth against the bed. They’re pretty quick tho when it comes to masturbation—I’m guessing bc of impatience and not being able to hold back. They only last long when it comes to sex with a partner

• the body worship is real nice

• most of the sexual activities have one thing in common though, and that’s the closeness of both of your skins. This person kisses your skin so much during sex, and really anytime, feel you up whenever they can. The touchiness is all the time and it’s sweet, but it can always lead to something else

• in this pile, lies a very rare breed. a handful, and really not a lot, will encounter the rare breed partner that also has this high of a sex drive, is confident, has a regular day job, prob tall and slim, is responsible and committed only to you, and will be on board 100% if you ever want to engage in exhibitionist/voyeur activities—extreme (like streaming your intimate moments or camming together)

——————————————————-

Pile 2. *Growling noises.*

• the thing is…you’re just existing 😭

• you don’t do much to piss this person off (most of the time). Some light jokes and messing around here and there but you’re pretty much chillin. (ESPECIALLY when you’re not dating, this bullet point and the previous be the vibe.)

• this person wants you like a predator wants prey, basically. It feels weird to say it ngl, but it’s a very obviously fire energy? Like Leo smth…or a very capable and sadistic Scorpio? They have this dark and mysterious look. Very intimidating, but you prob don’t give this person your time of day—either you don’t care, think it’s weird, or maybe you’re just playing a little hard to get

•^^whatever this person thinks you’re doing, purposely or not, they find it intriguing and you have to be theirs

• this person tho? pile 1 has nothing on this person. My bad, not person—beast.

• very dominant person and very much shows it if you’re exclusively dating each other or in a higher relationship

• they could use some work on their control issues tho. IMPORTANT!!!: this person would NEVER put their hands on you to hurt you out of anger or violent means. No abuse in their household, no, no. (In bed, it’s different but only if you consent)

•^^ regarding the control issues, make sure they’re not obsessed with you bc you’re hard to control. At your highest energy, this pile has a very independent, do-what-I-want energy. You don’t give two shits abt what others think- you dress, look, and act the way you want. You stand up to them when no one has the balls to do it

• very much BDSM. It could get a little tiring—not the person!! The person has hella games and tricks up their sleeve when it comes to bdsm and freaky shit. Tiring in the sense that it just stays in the BDSM realm like dude…break out of it cmon. It’s time to experiment with different menus, not recipes.

• commander type. also choking. this person likes choking. Choking you AND being choked, but they wouldn’t bring up the latter if you never mention it.

• has a LOT of self control…until they don’t. But I think this person loses it very easily bc of their partner—like you needa be punished asap type feel.

• getting off is normal for them, but when they have a partner, most of the time they save it until sex. but if not and you’re not around, they’re gonna go at it, thinking how you should be there, imagining how good you look with your mouth on their parts while you look up at them, praising you about how good you’re doing.

• this person isn’t really simple with masturbation either. If they simply lay down and or sit on their bed and touch themselves, it wouldn’t be as satisfying so they have to go again, preferably touching themselves in a different place—depends on what mood they’re in, they’ll choose a risky, likely-to-get-caught kinda place or a place outside their room, but private.

• wow, verrrry possessive person. Marking you up 😫 In the morning, if you need to go somewhere, they’ll be like “Don’t try to cover it up.”

• This person could be some sort of player? Regardless of who they are, they just have a lot of pent up energy they need to get out of. They def have experience

•honestly, pile 2, this person can get really damn intense. If you can’t handle their heat, it’s okay to get outta the kitchen cuz they’re the ones turning it up and have also broken the ac 😭 the sex is crazy good, but it will take this person a bit of time to actually fall in love with you. Cuz you’re so different from everyone they’ve seen so they’re unsure…weirded out…interested.

• if you somehow get in bed with this person, you’re in for a ride (literally.) after this experience, this person will deadass replay it everywhere, every day, all the time. It becomes an obsession with them (which may or may not be a good thing for you.)

• this person is going to be in your life for a whiiiiile. You might even roll your eyes and be like “whyyy”

• this is the most obvious enemies to lovers trope pile, but it starts smth like that OR you just get annoyed that everyone wants this person and to you, they’re just hot and nothing much.

• it gets wilder— this person WILL try to make you jealous. Shamelessly. (Ick)

• they’d like to receive some mouth-work from you if ya get my vibe. (Which is unfair bc they’re kinda selfish when it comes to receiving pleasure.) if they give it, they give it THEIR way

• ^ you have to put them in their place and show them you’re not someone to be fucked with. The worst thing you could do is leave their life entirely. Even pissing you off gives them something.

• if you’re sick of their shit, they might even let you have a chance of taking it out on them and having your way for once (BUT just so you know, if you do, they’ll take it as you surrendering to them. Like you finally have a weakness or manipulation point.)

• HOWEVER, this person, although very fucking stubborn, is willing to make any and all changes for you. IT WILL TAKE TIME. And only if you’re in love with each other. Maybe they were trying to find someone that was worth their time and more than just looks.

• I will say tho, if you get into an actual committed relationship with this person, the upbringing of this relationship looks pretty toxic. Like the crazy need for control and the unwarranted possessiveness (on their side), especially at points when you’re not dating each other. If you don’t set their shit straight, you’ll fall into the trap and could get a broken heart out of it

• ^^ on the bright side, this encounter/relationship with them will bring you so much personal growth. If you make it out of this relationship in one piece, you’re actually indestructible. And if they’re really willing to change—I suggest noting down their BIG, grandiose sacrifices for you that puts them at some risk—then there’s also a big chance you could have a harmonious and balanced connection

• ^^ why? Bc they know that you’re not superficial and you have substance to you, and they want that. Be wary tho, this person isn’t stupid and knows what strings to pull

• this person could have a tan tint to their skin or brown hair

————————————————————

Pile 3. “Please let me in...”

• this pile’s energy seems a little closed off. not from your person but from you. I’m feeling indifference, constant wariness, but regardless, there’s always a wall

• you’re prob an introvert and has gotten hurt in the past really, REALLY badly, so you’ve been closing your heart off. There’s a piece of you that still wants to find love, hence your presence here, but you act like you don’t or you don’t show that you are interested in wanting it.

• if you’re an extrovert, however? You may not be TOO keen on sharing things about your life. Open to it, sure…but still somewhat selective

• you would sacrifice everything for the person you love, not that you would willingly admit this verbally. If you have, good for you!! You’re the muse baby

• your person is more likely an extrovert and has tried or IS planning to try to get closer to you/get to know you more. They KNOW you are more than what you show on the surface. They’re the only ones who can see the gems behind the rockiness you show

• they’re a virgin or inexperienced

•^^ I don’t think most of the people who chose this pile mind too much, honestly. There’s a bit of a corruption kink rearing its head in here…not super apparent but it be lurkin in da shadows

• oh they’re a switch hahaha. You can just push em on the bed and they’ll let you do whatever you want to them. They’re not complaining at all tho—just lock in on your target and DESTROYYYY 😈😈

• almost a puppy like energy to them—ALMOST. Almost. Bc they have leader vibes but a nice leader. Maybe not respectable by all…but most. Like one who seeks the best for the team but bc they’re not “alpha” or aggressive enough, it can be tough to get people to take things seriously. But eventually people do. Maybe even out of pity.

• I get the feeling this person had to be very in tune with their parents’/guardians’ feelings (I’m getting anxiety or just freaking out over messes and stuff) — maybe they’ve also grown with grandparents? Or have had the presence of their grandparents be very significant in their lives?

•^ bc of this they will most likely be vanilla in bed. I don’t even think they’ll lust after you for a while man I mean, outta respect yk? And also bc it doesn’t feel right to them. It’s not the first thing or one of the first things that come into their mind when they think about you

• ^^ you basically have to tell them what to do, what they can and cannot do too. They’ve had to be so involved in taking care of everybody with an undying kindness to them that they don’t really know where boundaries begin. They’d never wanna break your boundaries

• ok this does not mean that your person is a nice white male, btw!! I keep seeing a salesman, wearing a baby blue button up and khakis, brown hair…this person seems so average? — this could mean that they’re doing everything they can to make others happy and totally not paying attention to their own. I’m not sure if you’ll ever see this person cry in public, but if you make them cry in bed? Hey, go for it muahahah

• it will prob take a while to get them to be comfortable with thinking about you sexually. If they have to relieve themselves, they try to channel this energy into workouts or something physical that gets their mind off of you in that way. Inevitably, the idea of you in bed will pop up, but they’ll shake it off. It’s not even holding back—they just don’t wanna “disrespect” you and see you as an object (but like I said, if you want them to treat you like one in bed or smth, you have to let them know and say it with a lot of conviction. This person is very mentally bullheaded so it’s hard to break into them like that)

•I think they let a lot of things happen bc they’re that empathetic, or they just don’t have the energy for the chase. Like think little kid stealing from a shop, they’ll prob be like “hey kid- ah…” *sighs and scratches back of head as they watch the kid run away with said items*

• if you’re not interested in this person or blatantly ignoring them, they’ll really try to get you (but in a nonstalker-ish way) which is good!! They just want your attention really. They’re pretty much awestruck by you, ESPECIALLY if you ever go to an event and they see you all cleaned up and dressed, they’ll check you out and zone out mid convo I swear. You actually render them speechless.

• (now…we get to some of the graphics.) This person is not a serial masturbator, I will say. Once a day, max. If you’ll allow them, they would do more. They could honestly go all day if you made them. If this person works in an office and you make them soooooo desperate, they would hide somewhere, perhaps an empty room and just start finding heaven. Very quickly too. Quickly and (trying to be) quiet. They’re pretty on top of things and responsible, but if you just tell em what to do, it will be done. They even clean after their mess too (if they do it in public? Cleaning up fast due to freaking out). Like “oh god, what have I done…” They’re super fucking clumsy too and don’t have too good of a recovery in public tho. For example, if they run into someone they know, RIGHT after coming out of the restroom? Red, hot face, sweat all over their neck. Stuttering and shit when they try to say hi to the said acquaintance. When they touch themselves, they don’t use toys (which is very sad. You gotta spice up their lives. They’re open to it. If you’re not the one with spice, they’re also okay with it. And if you’re both okay with vanilla sex every time, feel free!) This person just uses their hands, but LIES DOWN. They like to relax, face the ceiling, close their eyes, and think slow vanilla things…

•might be tmi, but when they touch themselves, it’s kind of inhibited…and not as fast as people do when they’re abt to cross the finish line, yk? Like either long edging sessions or never letting themselves climax sometimes, or rubbing/pressing very hard and still but not fast(?) when they cum…if you know what I mean? Idk if they’re doing it on purpose or if they’re not too experienced, or if they think they don’t deserve it? Scared maybe?

•no kidding, you could actually do anything to this person. cnc/dubious consent would be hot for them—though, they prob wouldn’t know what the kink is called lolll (you have to make sure tho. Establish boundaries and a safe word) bc they wanna be like “nooooo, don’t do that~~” while you’re all over them. BEFORE or IF you guys ever step into that stage tho, they’ll think about simple things if you do allow them to think about you sexually. Like you on top of them, slow grinding, soft touches, helping them out, mutual masturbation. there’s a little part that is innocent and doesn’t know how to step out of that or where to start when it comes to the more kinky stuff.

• it’s funny bc even tho this person has had a lot of experience outside, within a team or jobs, or clubs, etc., they’re so…malleable?? LMFAO 😂 crazy ass word to use but YES. you can throw them around like a damn doll and have them do this and that. A bit of hesitancy, but they know their main purpose in life is to serve :)

• but like I said, they’re a switch, so not only can they think abt you taking control (softdom energy), but if they think abt being on top, they think about slow, loving sex yk? Like slow grinding- oooh, yeah. that really gets them. They’re the type to milk themselves till the last drop too btw. Til. The. Last. Drop.

• also, most of the partners are not a loud moaner. They’re quiet, likely bc they’ve had to force themselves to be quiet in the household they’ve grown in. If your person is a loud moaner, they’ve grown unashamed of their sexual needs and have developed a healthy relationship with that aspect. If you’re with a person who’s like this and moans loud, congratulations!! They have become comfortable in their skin and you have made it so 🙂‍↕️👏👏 If they’re still quiet, def some insecurity bc of growing up with limiting beliefs or having to live with a lot of people in childhood. If you want them loud, you have to encourage it out of them. They’ll be pretty fuckin shy about it though. You realllly have to pull it out of them.

• bonus: if they’re loud, they’re a slut 😂😂 like a secret slut, yk? (this might be a bit darker so don’t read if you don’t want to—this really only applies to a small portion of people here—but chances are they get off…on being ashamed and self-degradation? A big example is being ashamed for engaging in sex/sexual activities? Like a masochist, “this is so dirty, I shouldn’t be doing this…” but proceeds to do it anyway bc they can’t help themselves?? And they likely degrade themselves while getting off. These people may secretly be content creators for this type of thing but appear angelic in real life OR they have potential to. Like them faceless whimper creators lmfaoo. Listen, hey…if you get with one of these people, you a winner winner chicken dinner

•there’s a big chance most people in this pile or the pile’s person feels ashamed or very guilty about the whole sex thing and masturbation; if you’re looking to improve your relationship with sex or relationship with this person, you have to help each other overcome this fear. It doesn’t matter who asserts themselves to the task. It requires the both of you at the end of the day. And boyyy is it gonna be hard- (…anxiety makes it hard for you to get aroused/stay aroused/reach orgasm tho 😮‍💨 the more you know…). No man, it’s gonna be so awkward—palms-sweatingly awkward. Breaking news, you might have to be the assertive one here. Your impatience could get the best of you and in that case, you’ll guide them. There are so many things that could go wrong in this situation of awkward pre-sex, but if this person has shown their worth to you and you actually trust them, a lot of it is salvageable by your own hand.

• however, if this situation goes south (and not the south we want…) then, this person will start to feel bad or insecure that they’ve hurt or done something wrong towards you, even though they’re a clumsy dummy who doesn’t intend to hurt people and tries hard to do everything right

• ^^ should you ever try to initiate it and try to sex em up again, you’d have to put a bit of work in to convince them, bc they were really open that one time and it was honestly…kinda the first time they’ve gotten so close to doing something THAT vulnerable and revealing. It would feel like they stripped and you didn’t like what you saw, and it was so apparent on your face that it broke them. That kind of vibe. A very sensitive person at heart.

• they get really anxious if something goes wrong. It’s probably a trait they picked up from parents/guardians being like that.

• they have SOOO much potential, seriously. But a lot of what-ifs on their mind so they’re playing it safe. Be confident, and maybe even borderline bossy, with them and gradually they’ll open out of their shell. This person is like hot liquid gold, waiting to be molded into your likings 😇

———————————

**Teddy Note: Hi guys!! This is a super long post, but I hope you’ve gotten something out of it. My sexual tarot deck just came in and I’m pretty much obsessed with it already hahaha. Thank you for reading today’s post!! If you haven’t heard, I’d just opened up paid readings, and there is a sexual reading in there that is pretty much like this one, but more individualized towards you and pretty detailed (if you do decide to purchase, that is.) That’s all I gotta say. It’s been pretty intense doing these readings and the partners in these piles are all wildin in their own way 😅 Thank you again! Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! Peace outtt :))

[morelikeravenbore]

✨Sebastian Sallow spicy alphabet

These are my spicy headcanons for Sebastian when he's in a loving and committed relationship (aged up to 18+, obviously.) Based on how I imagine and write him in most of my spicy oneshots (ie a needy boi 🤭)

🍭 If you're looking for something more wholesome, I also wrote a Sebastian Sallow fluff alphabet.

🦋 A/N: all headcanons are valid, even if yours differ completely to mine.

A - Aftercare: what they’re like after sex.

Let me preface this by saying that Sebastian goes so hard and gives so much that afterwards, he's practically a boneless, wordless jellyfish man. So, while he makes sure you're okay, he mostly only has energy enough to pull you close and give you a little kissy on the head before he passes out.

B - Body part: their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s.

Since Sebastian was touch-starved and denied affection for so long, his favourite body part is his hands: touching you grounds him in reality and reminds him that you're real. He likes the versatility of his hands and the way he can coax so many different reactions from you depending on how and where he touches you. His hands are strong but his fingers are dexterous and nimble, and he uses this to his full advantage, either by caressing you as gently as if you're made of eggshells, brushing your head back from your face, tracing your lips with his thumb — or by pinning your wrists firmly above your head, making you come apart with just his fingers alone or holding you so tightly against him you can't move an inch.

His favourite body part (as I mentioned in my fluff alphabet) is your face. Watching your expressions when he's pleasuring you really gets him off. Pressing your foreheads together, breathing the same breath, intense eye contact all drive him insane.

C - Cum: anything to do with cum, basically.

Sex is a practise in vulnerability for Sebastian, so coming inside you and giving you a part of himself is the ultimate form of intimacy. He gets off on the thought of you carrying some of him inside you, and loves the feeling of you milking him dry when you come together.

D - Dirty secret: pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs.

He is needy. On the surface, Sebastian presents himself as this confident, charming assertive guy — and, generally speaking, he is; but when it comes to you, he's often so overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings that he can't control himself. Being intimate with you goes beyond physical desire, its how he expresses his love in the most pure and vulnerable way he knows how, trusting that when he bares his soul to you, you'll accept and cherish it every time. As a result, he's often at your mercy, begging you to hold him together while he falls apart for you.

E - Experience: how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

Before you, Sebastian had a little bit of experience, but he'd never been intimate with someone he truly loved, so your first time together really threw him off his game. However, he is incredibly observant, a fast learner and a very enthusiastic student, so he quickly learns what you like best.

F - Favorite position: this goes without saying.

Face to face. Whether it's missionary, straddling his lap, or pressed up against a wall, Sebastian craves that emotional connection as much as he does the physical. He goes crazy for eye contact during sex and loves having you moan and whimper into his mouth.

G - Goofy: are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

Sex, in Sebastian's opinion, is one of the most fun experiences a person can ever partake in. Laughing, tickling or being silly together usually ends in love making. If you try a new position and it doesn't work, or he attempts talking dirty and it comes out cringe, the two of you will quickly descend into fits of giggles. You have definitely laughed him out of you on several occasions.

H - Hair: how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

Quite honestly, Sebastian likes the way he looks naked, and takes pride in his body, so he'd keep things neat and tidy but without going overboard. Natural, but groomed.

I - Intimacy: how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.

Though he's not a "typically" romantic person, Sebastian loves you more than anything or anyone in the world and expresses this most openly in the way he holds you close, kisses you, watches in awe when you fall apart for him. When words fail him, he lets his body speak — and boy does it speak.

J - Jack off: masturbation headcanon.

This boys sex drive is off the freakin charts, lol. He wakes up most mornings with an erection, and if he can't be with you, he's imagining being with you (and this happens a lot, usually at very inconvenient times). He is rather progressive when it comes to sexual health, especially for the time he's living in; having read a lot of anatomy and sexual health books (nicked from the Restricted Section, of course), he doesn't feel any shame about his sexuality, and in fact believes that masturbation is perfectly natural and healthy. In fact, if he tries to deny his urges, he finds he is less productive, more prone to frustrated outbursts, and has difficulty focusing on tasks.

K - kink: one or more of their kinks.

Praise. Sebastian loves to be told he's doing a good job. Calling him a good boy will basically short circuit his brain, but it doesn't matter whether the praise comes verbally or in the form of a mind-shattering orgasm; as long as he knows he's doing a good job, he's a very happy boy.

L - Location: favorite places to do the do.

Honestly, anywhere. He is obsessed with you, and when he needs you — he needs you. As long as he can get you away from prying eyes, he'll do it anywhere.

M - Motivation: what turns them on, gets them going?

Let's face it, it doesn't take much to get Sebastian going — just the thought of you alone is enough to turn him on — but he does especially like it when you're feeling passionate about something, whether you're fervidly telling him off for something, and your face is all cute and red from anger, or if you're rambling about something you absolutely love, or excited about something you've achieved, that spark is something that never fails to drive him crazy with lust.

N - No: something they wouldn’t do, turn offs.

While Sebastian is certainly an intense lover, he doesn't like pain-play or restriction (hands, airways, etc, either his or yours). Anything that makes him feel like he has no control over the situation tends to trigger his trauma responses and leads to anxiety. Given all this past traumas, he only wants to bring pleasure, and can't handle the thought of causing more pain or discomfort to someone he loves.

O - Oral: preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

Since he's so obsessed with your face, Sebastian looooves when you give him head and he can watch how pretty you look when you're on your knees for him. Making direct eye contact will drive him absolutely feral.

In return, he loves using his mouth on you —particularly when you're already overstimulated. and he uses his tongue to slowly coax out another shuddering orgasm.

P - Pace: are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

He likes to think he can take it slow, and usually he starts off with slow and sensual intentions: face kisses, lingering touches, long looks — but he loses himself in you so quickly that before long, he's just a sweaty, groaning sex machine. Hes got stamina though, so even when he's going hard, he's in for the long haul.

Q - Quickie: their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

Though he prefers longer sessions where he can take his time with you, he's not exactly known for his patience, and if he's feeling needy enough, he will definitely take the opportunity to take you quickly.

R - Risk: are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

As mentioned, anything that borders on painful or restrictive is a hard no for him; he just can't take pleasure from "hurting" you, even if its only for play. He does, however, love experimenting with different positions, relishing in all the ways he can use his body to make you come. Being so hungry for knowledge, he reads a lot of sexy books and loves to test

S - Stamina: how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

Sebastian isn't satisfied until you've come at least twice, but will always strive for three or four rounds. He loves sex, he loves having sex with you, and he feels an incredible sense of pride and accomplishment when he makes you feel good. So much so, that he tends to get carried away, and sometimes you have to settle him down so you can recover.

T - Toys: do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Anything an object can do, Sebastian can do better. Or at least, that's his motto, and he'll live and die by it. He won't deny you if you want to experiment with toys, but he'd prefer to rely on his own faculties to bring you pleasure.

U - Unfair: how much they like to tease.

Leading up to it, Sebastian will tease you and flirt with you like an absolute fiend, whispering dirty things into your ear or teasing your inner thighs under a table, but as soon as you're touching him, he loses all resolve. He's putty in your hands; he simply can't resist you or hold himself back. Tease you all he wants, but orgasm denial is not a term he understands when he finally has you.

V - Volume: how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Sebastian's the type to moan in your ear, or whimper into the crook of your neck, or plead desperately into your mouth. He's vocal, but he's quiet about it (and usually incomprehensible).

W - Wild card: a random headcanon for the character.

Sebastian doesn't drink. Given his infatuation with the dark arts, his obsessive tendencies and the impulsivity that lead to the death of his uncle, he avoids anything that will comprise the full control of his mind and body.

X - X-ray: let's see what’s going on under those clothes.

He's freckled all over, tall (somewhere around 6ft), lean but lightly muscular. He's got nice broad shoulders, lovely upright posture, and toned forearms with all those yummy veins. He's not particularly long, but he's thick.

Y - Yearning: how high is their sex drive?

If it were physically possible, he'd probably never stop, especially when it's with you — the person he loves with his entire being.

Z - Zzz: how quickly they fall asleep afterwards.

Immediately, lol. Sometimes while he's still on top of you, depending on the intensity and duration of the session, but he always looks so blissed out and happy that you don't mind.

[melanieph321]

What about a Ruben one shot where he and the reader are a bit older and their oldest daughter is like 17 and she goes out to a party with some friends and ends up getting drunk for the first time and calls Ruben in the middle of the night, crying and feeling so bad about getting drunk and asking him to pick her up and he and the reader take care of the girl? Pleaseeee i love your writing 🙏🏻

Ugh, such a good request!

Please, let me have your babies, Ruben 😩😩😩

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS (DAY 5)

Ruben Dias x Reader - Our Little Women

Enjoy!

Ruben is a girl dad and loves his job more than anything in the world. He had nine months to prepare for it. And even when you had your second child, he was there, prepared to be the best dad to two beautiful girls. He couldn't imagine a life where he wasn't a girl dad, and perhaps that's where he went wrong, his lack of imagination. Ruben had never imagined that his girls would one day become little women, and the realization hit him pretty hard.

"Dad?"

He was in your bedroom sleeping, when a crack of the door reveled your youngest daughter Emilia, with the homeline in her hand.

"What?" He groand, a bit grumpy to be disturb in his sleep, especially with you, fast asleep in his arms.

"Gigi is on the phone." She said. "But why is he she talking so funny?"

"What?" Ruben sat up, rattling the bed as he did. Gigi, short for Giorgina, was your oldest daugter. It was late. Very late for her to call, especially if she was having a sleepover at her friends house. "Come here." Ruben waved for Emilia in the dark. She was quick to rush over with the homeline, raising her arms for Ruben to lift her up into your bed, unhanding her the phone as he pressed it to his ear.

"Hello, Gigi?"

His heart raised when there was no response. However, there was a dimmed sound of music playing in the back.

"Gigi, can you hear me? This is your dad."

"Dad?"

Ruben exhaled. "Yes, dad. Where are you?"

"Dad." His daughter sobbed.

Panic struck Ruben, but he fought to remain calm for Emilia's sake. She was still by his side, her head pressed to his chest.

"Daddy?" She whined, perhaps reacting to how his muscles had tensed.

"Shhh, it's okay." Ruben assured. "I'm trying to talk to your sister. Gigi, can you hear me? Where are you?"

"Daddy." Giorgina sobbed. Ruben did everything not to fly out of bed and run down the stairs.

"Just tell me where you are baby and I'll come get you. Daddy will come and get you."

"I'm at some guys house." She sniffled "My friends and I thought it would be fun to go to his party since him and his friends are a bit older than us..."

"Define older." Ruben said through clenched teeth.

"I dunno, eighteen? They told us that they were seniors."

"Seniors!" He snapped but put a hand to his mouth so as not to wake you up.

"Yes, seniors. Dad, I know that I messed up by lying to you and mom, but can you come and get me? I've had too much to drink and I can't find my friends...."

"Okay, okay...." Ruben said, calming her down.

"Please dad, I'm so scared."

"I'll be there in a minute. Just text me your address and try to stay out of trouble."

Ruben got out of bed.

"Daddy, is Gigi gonna be okay." Emilia asked.

"Yes, baby. She's gonna be fine." He planted a kiss on top of her head. "You stay with mommy and try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

With that Ruben got dressed and rushed downstairs. He grabbed his car keys and drove to the adress that your daughter had texted him. She was seen standing outiside of the house, on the sidewalk, waiting for him in the nights cold. Seeing that your daughter was okay, Ruben did nothing more than to open up the passenger door for her, driving off as she got in.

"Dad, I'm so sorry that I...."

"We'll discuss this in the morning."

"But I wanna...."

"I said in the morning Georgina! When your mother is awake."

Ruben kept his hands on the wheel, ignoring the way his daughter crumbled in the seat beside him. He was never the one to raise his voice at the girls. You were often the one more comfortable doing so, but tonight....tonight Ruben doesn't know what he would have done if he hadn't found your daughter waiting for him by the sidewalk. He would have probably stormed the house, threatening every teenage boy up in there to tell him where she was.

Pulling up to your driveway, Ruben was surprised to see you and Emilia waiting.

"Is she okay?" You asked, your expression laced with worry.

"She's fine." Ruben got out of the car and walked around it to open the door up for your daughter. She could barely walk on her own two, Ruben had to help her inside.

"Where was she? What happened to the sleepover at Talia's house?" You asked.

"Apprently they decided that it would be fun to sneak away to a party."

"What?"

"We'll have to give Talia's parents a call in the morning and inform them."

Ruben walked passed you and into the house. Just then your daughter looked to be hit with sudden nausea.

"I think I'm gonna...."

She rushed to the nearest bathroom, and you could only hope that she made it to the toilet in time. Nevertheless you saw the expression on Ruben's face and reached for his hand as you approached him. "You did good baby."

He looked to you, a bit taken aback.

You smiled reassuringly. "Why don't you take Emilia upstairs, tuck her back into bed for me? I'll make sure Gigi is okay."

He nodded his head and beant down to pick Emilia up in his arms. She was halfway asleep by the time he got her tucked into bed.

"Am I in trouble daddy?"

Ruben was on his way to the door when she had him turn back around. "Why would you be?" He said, stroking her hair as he sat down by her bedside.

"I woke up mommy and told her that you went to get Gigi."

Ruben smiled. "That's alright baby. You did what you thought to be right."

"Is Gigi gonna be alright?"

"Of course she is." Ruben assured. "She is just feeling a little sick at the moment. She'll be all good tomorrow, you'll see."

"Okay, daddy."

Ruben bent over to kiss her cheek. "You have a good sleep now."

"Goodnight, daddy."

"Goodnight baby."

Ruben stood and walked over to the door. However he did not shut it until he was sure that his daughter had fallen asleep. He returned to your bedroom, running a hand down his tired face. He could hear you downstairs, taking care of your daughter as she was throwing up whatever she and her friends had consumed that night. Ruben felt betrayed. His daughter knew how he felt about alcohol. Not to mention that she was only sixteen years old, drinking should be the last thing on your daughter's mind.

"Hey?"

Ruben jumped as your arms wrapped around him. He had been sitting on the edge of your bed, deep in reflection. To deep to notice you slip back into your bedroom.

"How are you holding up?" You asked, moving to sit down beside him.

He pulled you in for a hug. "How is Gigi?"

"She's fine." You assured. "At least she will be in the morning."

He nodded.

"How are you doing?"

"Me?" He looked to you and frowned.

"Yes you? You seem a bit shook up."

Ruben sighed. "I don't know. I guess I'm just..."

"Yes?"

"I'm just...."

"Ruben?" Your hand stroked his cheek. "It's okay to be disappointed at her."

He looked to you, surprised that you had read his mind.

You smiled. "She's still our little girl even if she messes up sometimes."

"Yes, but..."

You pressed a finger his lips, silencing him. "No buts. You have the right to be disappointed at her."

He exhaled, admitting defeat.

You leaned in to kiss him, and despite his initial hesitation he warmed up to it, a hand traveling to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss.

You pulled back breathless, happy to see that Ruben didn't look so deep in thought anymore.

"I guess I never thought about it." He said, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

"Thought about what?"

You did not hesitate to lift up your arms as Ruben then tugged the hem of your own shirt.

"I never thought they'd grow up on me." He said, helping you undress. He pulled you down to lay beneath him, loving the way you giggled when he traced soft kiss up your body. He traced them all the way to the crook of your neck, moving on to the edge of your jaw.

"But they will." You said, cradling Ruben's face between your hands, meeting his eyes. "Our little women."

He smiled. "Yes they will, our little women."

[charmercharm3r]

Masterlist

prev: four, next: six

☆ﾟ

It was a good idea in theory. In reality, it was a shit show. Literally. Trips to Jeju are always fun, even if you’re supposed to be filming. However this time around you were informed that the group would be filming a parody of a popular dating show. Whose genius idea was that?

It would’ve been perfectly fine if your members were normal. To your pleasure or misfortune— it’s still unclear— they’re far from it.

There were no hitches the entire trip, traveling and the initial filming was as planned. You were assigned the role of a host while the boys were to be “dating” amongst one another. They followed direction as best as you could ask for with their limited attention spans, jumping from conversation to conversation and even getting in some teasing as the cameras continued to roll. You could already tell a lot of film was going to get cut seeing as they tended to get sidetracked into talking about incredibly personal details.

The “first dates” were going as you expected, you were instructed to go around and give them interviews to provoke more conversations when they started to fall quiet. Seungmin was indifferent the entire time while Felix tried to keep it as lively as possible, no doubt the former doing it on purpose. Jeongin and Jisung didn’t really even need you there as they practically forgot you even were— in their own little world. You got lost in the orchard when looking for Hyunjin and Minho, breaking the fourth wall a few times to ask the crew member on where to go, eventually giving up and wandering on your own for a little too long. Only to find Chan and Changbin sitting and have what looked like a normal conversation— they didn’t need much help either.

The looks of surprise and betrayal was fun to witness as they regrouped to pick who was riding with who to go to dinner. You got to pick whose car you rode in once they finished, and decided on Minho and Felix’s car.

Minho drives fast, which is even more fun when he takes off the child locks in the backseat and rolls down the window for you. You and Felix stick your heads out the window as he surpasses the other three cars, the both of you hollering at them with joy and barely catching a faint smile on Minho’s lips when you sit back again.

Everyone, including you, forgets that you’re supposed to be filming during dinner and goes silent as you eat. Until Hyunjin speaks from across the table, “Y/N’ie, I thought you were supposed to interview us earlier. Did you think we were so hopeless as a couple that you decided not to?”

His question threw you off, totally unexpected as your mouth was full. Half chewed and half hearted, “I got lost.”

“What did you say?” Jisung called at the other end.

“You got lost?” Chan chuckled at your right, the confession sending him and Hyunjin into a fit of giggles. The information eventually made it to the other side of the table and the rest of them erupted into giggles as well.

“It wasn’t my fault! Why were you two so far away?” You turned the attention onto Minho and Hyunjin, who shared an amused look.

When both of them simply shrugged, Changbin stepped in, “that’s okay. I would’ve stayed up all night looking for you if you got lost.” He beat his palm onto his chest and jutted his chin out with a nodding smirk.

“That’s nice, but you’re supposed to be interested in each other. It wouldn’t be a good look for the show—“ you gestured to the surrounding cameras— “if you showed more interest in the host than in the contestants.”

“But the host is always the most attractive one!” He exclaimed, throwing his spoon down. Your eyes widened in confusion of where this sudden infatuation came from.

You looked at your manager standing by one of the center cameras, he was laughing just as hard as the members, “I don’t remember this being part of the script.”

“It’s not a script!” Changbin’s chair scraped against the floor as he abruptly stood. “These are my true feelings! Do my feelings look like a joke to you?!”

None of the others were going to help you now, they all avoided eye contact and kept their mouths shut as you sought out a scapegoat for Changbin’s bombardment of affection. “If I say no, will you sit down?”

“No!”

Then it hit you, play along.

Your chair almost toppled back when you took to your feet, Chan stuck his hands out to catch you just in case. “Then yes!”

Jeongin let out a small, “what is happening?”

“You’re a joke!” You replied back to Changbin with feigned anger. “You broke my heart! Then you come on my show to rub it in my face!”

Everyone at the table was suddenly invested in where this was going. You glanced over at your manager and he waved his hands as though throwing up a white flag. Green light.

“Do you want to humiliate me? Is my pain funny to you, Seo Changbin?”

“I didn’t want our relationship to end but you pushed me to it! You forced my hand!” He shouted at you for two seats down.

“Everyone,” you dramatically looked the other members directly in the eye, “he cheated on me.”

Gasps erupted throughout the restaurant, including the staff playing into the story. They spoke over each other, everyone trying to get their words in as Changbin’s mouth dropped to the floor in shock. You forced yourself to repress a smile seeing the disbelief on his face, his reaction much funnier when he broke the fourth wall to look at your manager as well.

How could you’s and shame on you’s echoed throughout the restaurant, Hyunjin’s words particularly catching your ear.

“Cheating is unforgivable, how disrespectful. I could never be friends with anyone who cheats on their significant other,” his serious tone drawing in the rest of the table above all the jokes spewing about, all eyes on him now.

“Care to explain more, Hyunjinnie?” You and Changbin sat back down and gave him the floor to speak.

Hyunjin cleared his throat, “I can’t stand it. Just break up with them. If you truly cared about someone, you’d never, never treat them with that level of disrespect, even if you’re on bad terms.”

He was clearly upset now, arms crossed across his chest and looking down at his bowl. No one really knew what to say as his emotions were much more intense than the previous vibes of the dinner. As the host and since it was your fault the topic was brought up, you comforted him, “I agree with you—“

But Jisung adds fuel to the fire before you could continue, “I have something to confess.” Everyone turns to him. “I saw who Changbin cheated with. I caught them together.”

More gasps, fists slamming on the table, angry exclamations demanding to know more. “It was…” he paused and looked around the table, then stuck his finger in the direction across from you, “Hyunjinnie!”

Faking a faint, you fell back into Chan with a hand over your forehead. The oldest wrapped his arms around your neck and shielded you from the subject of the incoming yelling match. There wasn’t much you could really understand as everyone spoke over one another for the billionth time that night. When he released you, you faked wiping tears as Hyunjin went mute with his mouth agape.

“Any last words before we,” a fake sniffle, “move on?”

“I DIDN’T KNOW! I PROMISE!” He came over to your side of the table and fell dramatically to his knees, taking your hand and placing your palm onto his cheek.

“What are you doing, get up.” You tried to take your hand back but he only held on tighter.

“Say you forgive me.”

“You need to be on a drama with how dramatic you are,” you joke, trying to divert your attention from how tightly he held your hand made your tummy warm.

“I won’t let you go until you say it!” His eyes were beaming up at you with sparkles so bright, even the stage lighting wasn’t nearly as blinding. Part of you felt like he was apologizing for something he truly did to wrong you, you almost fell for it.

“Fine, fine! Forgiven. Get up and finish your food.” Hyunjin quickly kissed the inside of your palm, unsure if the cameras actually caught it, and went back to his seat.

Conversation shifting to something you weren’t paying attention to, lo and behold, your mind wasn’t nearly as focused as it should be. There was more screaming and yelling, mostly Changbin and Jisung, and you couldn’t even laugh with them because you were internally battling with yourself about his fucking eyes. Hyunjin’s eyes and how sincere they were, how soft and patient and agonized they seemed to be about a situation that was purely for show. It caught you so far off guard that when the members continued with the skit, you let them take the reins to do whatever they wanted.

By the time it was time to choose cars to head home, you were just going with the flow, not caring about the show anymore. What you needed was an ice cold bath. A freezing shower to get rid of the heat in your cheeks whenever Hyunjin’s gaze would linger on you for half a second longer.

That was exactly what you did as soon as the cameras were off and you were back at your hotel room. You rushed off to be alone and get rid of all the stupid thoughts that made your head dizzy because what the fuck?

It wasn’t like you were touch deprived, your members were practically an extension of your physical self. It was just the way he looked at you. Why were you so upset over a look? He looks at you every day, nothing new. You were looking back at him. Straight into his eyes. He was on his knees. Your hand was on his cheek. He was nuzzling his face into your skin. You almost leaned in. His lips looked so kissable. He did kiss you— your hand, at least.

Oh, it’s fucking over for you.

Knock, knock, knock.

The consistent rapping on your hotel door shocked you enough to pull you from the butterfly inducing realization. Just a robe on and hair still dripping, you rushed to check the peep hole to find the one person you didn’t want to see standing outside.

“Why’re you here?” You said a little colder than intended.

Hyunjin scoffed and held up the bag of chips and soda, “what a rude way to greet someone bearing gifts.” He pushed past you and threw the snacks on the bed along with himself. “Go get dressed, they have Netflix on the TV.”

You didn’t even have the will to say no, doing what he asked and changing into comfy clothes. Big sweats and a baggy hoodie seemed decent enough, and so did standing at the foot of the bed while he was sprawled out, clicking through the different movies. “What are you doing here?” You finally asked.

“Hanging out?”

“Obviously. Why?”

“Am I not allowed to hang out with you?” He had a point. “You were also really quiet at dinner.” Frowning a little, you sat at the foot of the bed and took the bag of chips. Admittedly, they hit the spot, he knew they would and smiled to himself when you visibly relaxed.

“That one,” you spoke again as he hovered over the movie you’d been telling yourself you’d watch when you had the time. Well, now you had nothing but time.

Cross legged and still on the edge of the bed, munching away while fully invested in this terrible movie, Hyunjin admired the way you’d copy the actress’s slight body movements when she was around the love interest, as if you were taking notes. Tilting your head, sitting up a little straighter, leaning your head on your palm, or tucking your hair behind your ear. It was utterly adorable and he loved being able to see you like this. Somehow, you forgot he was even there until the bed shifted behind you.

Suddenly there was heat, too much of it. You were suffocating with the obvious fact that you were not alone and haven’t been for the past hour. Hyunjin’s arm was bumping against the back of yours, seemingly innocent.

“Are you gonna share?” He said, chin brushing your shoulder as he gestured at the mostly empty bag of chips. You didn’t say anything, only holding it in his direction. His hand encased yours to bring it even closer to him, making your fingers almost shake with anxiety. It was nothing. Literally nothing. But it felt like everything.

“Open,” he commanded for the second time tonight. When did he get so close to you? You could practically smell his shampoo and body lotion. Dumbly, you faced him slightly and opened your mouth enough for him to slip a chip into it. Then unexpectedly, his fingers tipped the bottom of your chin up to close. “Chew before you swallow.” Your eyes followed his hand as it retreated, leading up to his own gaze that was already staring back.

The sound of your swallowing was comically loud, you wished the ground would open up and eat you whole. “I don’t want to kiss you,” you rushed to say.

Hyunjin smirked, amused. “I don’t want to kiss you, either.” His actions contradicted his words as his face unnoticeably inched forward. Warmth was swirling around you now, his shampoo, his lotion, his skin, his clean clothes, his left over toothpaste— “your breath smells like chips.”

There it was. Butterflies gone. You shoved him and his stupidly smug smirk harshly back by his chest and he thumped back into the bed. Immediately, you ran into the bathroom to rinse your mouth with mouthwash before coming back and attacking him. You were slamming the soft pillow into his body without so much as a complaint. More so, he was laughing, not even a wince because it didn’t phase him at all. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t get it.

Moving into a stronger position, you went from standing at his side to trying to hop over him onto the available bed space, failing miserably and flopping onto him instead. Chest to chest, practically straddling him, Hyunjin gripped your waist to keep you from falling off the edge. That also meant there was no where to run. “Now I really don’t want to kiss you.”

“But I really want you to.” His hands keeping you in place, the proximity, minty fresh breath— from you, at least. Your hand drifted to his face, ghosting fingertips up along his cheek to push his hair from his face. Another thing for the second time that night, he leaned into the touch, enjoying it much more than he should.

This felt like the right moment, right? This was how that girl did it in the movie. She did all those steps, the lean in, touch the cheek, brush the hair, what came next?

It was the actual kiss, the one part you couldn’t get yourself to initiate. It’s been too much teasing him, perhaps if you only just gave in a little— a slight graze of your lips against his, that’d be the ultimate power move. Payback for the emotions he made you feel earlier this evening. Just close enough to make his eyes flutter closed, make his breath hitch, make him pucker and wait for you to close the distance and feel one another for the first time.

That’s exactly what you did, and fuck, was it hard not to cave. His soft breath and pillowy lips, you almost did.

Knock, knock, knock. “Y/N’ie, can I use your hair drier? The outlet in my bathroom doesn’t work.”

Saved by the fucking bell. Hyunjin audibly groaned, annoyed that his perfect moment was once again stolen from him.

You quickly pushed off of his body by his chest and rushed to open the door, stroking your hair flat and revealing Jisung on the other side. He immediately went into your bathroom, not noticing Hyunjin on the bed lobbing his head back with frustration.

“Han Jisung, you’re the worst. I was so close! Couldn’t you have waited two more minutes?!”

Jisung, frightened by the unknown voice, peaked around the doorframe and saw the other boy. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

“No—“

“Yes!” You shook your head with emphasis, holding up your hands like waving a white flag.

Everything else happened so fast. One second you were standing next to Jisung and the next, Hyunjin was rushing over to the both of you saying something along the lines of, “give me my kiss!” You had pulled Jisung in front of you without really thinking about it and put him into Hyunjin’s line of fire. The two smashes foreheads at the fast pace the older moved, both crumbling to the floor in pain.

With the way the night started, this was a solid way to end it— watching your two friends rolling around the floor in pain as you laughed your ass off at their idiotic tendencies. Then them proving said idiotic tendencies as one tried to— hopefully playfully— strangle the other, in which you don’t know who started all the rough housing, you’re just there to patch them up when they’re done.

☆ﾟ

A/N: don’t ask me where i’ve been idek LMAO. this is so bad im really trying to start writing again pls bear with me

[stazsi]

Right time

warnings: break up, mentions of kissing, basically sad shit ex!matt ;(

my notes : okay so this is my first one shot or whatever. i'm not rlly wanting to make it a 2 parter so imma leave this here hehe. :)) ( i'm sorry it's so sad )

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ﾟ✧

it's been 4 weeks since matt and i roughly broke up and he still hasn't stopped trying to contact me.

message after message and tears after tears.

I've always believed in right person, wrong time but if i love him this much why can't i have him now? i don't understand why he can't let go after breaking up with me, so that's why i'm outside his door right now trying to build courage to knock, the floor boards creak inside the house telling me someone's home.

anxiety flowing through my veins as i stand here, the wind flowing against my back giving me chills

knock,knock

..

click.

i straighten my back and look up listening to the the sweet but threatening sound of the lock clicking, reminding myself why i'm even here. i stand frozen staring into them blue eyes i'm used to, just puffier. "hi.." i whisper my voice a little louder than the branches cracking behind me. he stares at me clearly in shock and regret, we haven't seen eachother since the breakup and clearly it shows.

i slowly back up keeping my space, i try to let words escape my mouth but they're stuck in my throat same with my breathing, my stomach swirls and suddenly every body part itches from the sweat. his face goes pale blue with sadness and he slightly moves to the side sweetly inviting me in with no words.

i walk past him his strong cologne infecting my nose, i sit down on the couch and place my bag on the scratched up table. as i look around their house there's so many memories i didn't know i'd be so sadly familiar with. like the dent in the wall from when chris threw my heels, the countless coffee stains on the table from my rough mornings here..and the more i look the sadder i get, tears threatening to escape my eyes, it's silly really..i shouldn't be this sad about a ruined wall or table, even looking down hurts my heart; it's like someone is stabbing a hot cigarette into my fragile heart.

"y/n?" he speaks with sadness, i think he has been trying to get my attention but i've been looking around and forming a wetness on my face from my eyes .

i quickly wipe my light red cheeks and straighten up wiping the tears of embarrassment against my blue ripped jeans. i apologise and clear my clogged up throat.

"what are you doing here?" he asks sitting down and licking his lips, a thing he does when he's nervous he doesn't want dry lips and wants to present himself and act like hes not nervous

i don't wanna tell him why i'm here, i don't even know how to tell him.

i don't even know why i'm here

the silence thickens and as the seconds go on i regret this more and more.

"i don't know" i finally speak up allowing him to un-tense and let out a healing loud sigh.

it's starting to get more awkward as seconds turn into minutes and tears fall

"i'm sorry y/n" he lets out his volume decreasing, almost like he regrets starting to speak. he's sorry. i'm sorry. why can't we be the same? hes said his apologies so why isn't his aura yellow, happy like we normally are? why can't we go and laugh on fun car drives or cry in each others arms why are we separated?

"was there someone else?" i whisper my voice and heart breaking halfway through of the thought of him being with someone else.

he flinches. as if this question is important, as if i'm right.

"y/n.." he says trying to console me "there was someone else?" i ask knowing the answer but unable to believe it, my world just broke in two. the room spins vertically and horizontally and time stops giving me a second to break down, tears escape rather fast and i'm unable to breathe the dizziness taking over my whole body.

i nearly said sorry just because i don't want this to be true i don't want this life i want me and matt happy together i don't want a cheater i want matt. normal matt. happy in love matt. We've been doing this dance for a while now, the fallen out of love dance. one step forward then he spins me all the way back, the music slows down till it eventually breaks up into static and we're no longer dancing. we're just here.

imagining all the times he kissed her, hugged her, told her she's special, the compliments.

i feel his stare stabbing me like thousands shards of glass as i sat there, staring into his familiar yet deadly eyes, i felt a surge of emotions welling up within myself. the silence between us is deafening, broken only by the haunting echoes of my own heartache. suddenly, the words escaped his lips, shattering the fragile hope i've clung to for so long. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt and in that moment, the weight of his confession hung in the air, suffocating the remaining fragments of trust and love - the truth, like a jagged blade, pierced through my heart, leaving behind a raw ache that no amount of apologies could soothe. nothing could mend our wounds, our love can't be replaced or fixed. I felt a surge of conflicting emotions raging within. betrayal, hurt, and a burning desire to escape engulfed my senses. without a word, I rose to my feet, my movements fueled by a mix of anguish and determination. every step I took echoed the resounding ache in my heart, a painful rhythm that matched the cadence of his footsteps behind me.

I could hear him calling my name, barely as my ears are focused on any other sound than his voice, that one sweet voice that once made me feel the most special but now it's disgusting and tinged with desperation, but I dared not turn back the tears that stung my eyes blurred the path ahead, yet I keep on, driven by my sadness and panic from the shattered pieces of our love. His hand reached out, barely touching my hand, but I still felt the strong energy between us.

the air was thick with unsaid words and broken promises, a weight that hung heavy between us even if we are a 10 minute drive away. i can still hear him pleading to me as i lay lifeless in my bed unable to even flinch or blink. breathing hurts and falling asleep becomes difficult. my mind clouded unable to shut down all alone i lay, without him by my side.

maybe it isn't the right time.

my notes; i love and hate this okay thanku for reading💙

[oppopotamus]

Imagine sub!top!reader visiting dom!bottom!geto about a cursed spirit and Geto says the only way to cure it is a night with him but little does the reader know it goes beyond one night. 😶

More than one night

geto suguru x sub top male reader

this was so fun to write ohmygodddd thank you for this req.. im sorry it took so long anon

hes a bit ooc at the start but its gets better towards the end i promise

Warning: NSFW

"Ugh.. Hello?" You say groggily, answering the phone call that you received.

"(Name), I need you to come over. Now." The voice on the other end of the call says.

"Huh, who is this?"

"It's Suguru, I need you to come over to my place right now.. It's about a cursed spirit."

"Ugh, I'll be over soon then." You hang up the phone before he can respond and get up, checking the time you realise that it's in the early hours of the morning.

You get up from your bed and put on your clothes, quickly rushing out the door and getting in your car to drive to Geto's home.

You receive a text on your way to his house, you know it's bad to text and drive but it could be important so you discreetly open it whilst keeping your eyes on the road. You're an experienced driver, no way you'd crash.

You're more confident than Gojo sometimes.

The text reads, I figured out how to get rid of the curse, then not even a minute later saying, I'm going to need your help with this. It's really important, then another messaging saying, sorry, (Name).

You're starting to get worried as to what's going on, Suguru is pretty strong so why is he asking for your help? You're strong sure but not on his level.

Finally arriving at his place you leave your car and head to his door and knock, once, twice, and then the door slams open to reveal Geto looking.. Disheveled.

"Hey uh are you alright? You don't look too good. And where's this-" Before you can even finish your sentence, Suguru drags you in by your shirt and slams the door shut behind you.

"I need your help to get rid of this curse." Geto looks up at you not saying anything more.

"Okay sure but maybe you should tell me where exactly it is so I can-" Once again he cuts you off saying, "The curse is inside me and the only way to get rid of it is for you to sleep with me."

He says it so fast you can barely even comprehend what he just said.. Did he just say you need to sleep with him to get rid of a curse thats INSIDE of him?

You stand there dumbfounded for a few moments while he looks up at you nervously. This isn't like him at all, something must be seriously wrong because he has never acted like this before.

"Oh well okay I guess." You simply shrug as he looks at you shocked.

"That's it? Seriously?"

"If that's what it takes to get rid of the curse then sure.. I mean you're my friend I'd do anything for you."

He looks away at the mention of friend.

"But how did you know that we have to have sex for the curse to go away and I don't really sense any curse to be honest."

You feel a bit dumb at the fact you can't sense anything. Jujutsu sorcerers should always be able to sense curses and if Geto can apparently sense it then there must be something wrong with you!

I mean Geto would never lie about a cursed spirit.. Right?

"I just know alright. Now can we just not talk about it and just do.. it?" You're a bit confused but just shrug and agree and so, you lean closer to him.

"Where do you want me?" You ask, he smirks at you before saying, "On your knees."

Now that's more like the Geto you know. He's always in control. You love how hot he looks when he's in charge so you obey and get on your knees in front of him whilst never once taking your eyes off of him.

"Good boy." Suguru whispers quietly, making you shiver at his cool words.

You open your mouth to say something before he interrupts you saying, "Go ahead." Hey, did he read your mind or something? Also why does he keep interrupting you!?

You grumble a bit at the continuous interruptions but since he's given you permission, you trail your hands up to his waist where his pants lay on his hips and slowly drag them down along with his underwear so they pool at his ankles.

He lifts his legs up to take them off then kicks them away to somewhere else in the room.

While looking up into his eyes, waiting for any sign of disapproval which you never get, you take his half-hard cock into your hands and just slowly trace your fingers along it while coming in close and peppering the softest kisses onto his cock as though you were lovers who were infatuated with each other.

His breath catches in his throat as your tongue leaves your mouth and you drag it up to the tip of his cock where you grab his cock and rub the tip all over your tongue.

You smirk up at him as you do, tapping his cocking against your tongue in an almost teasing manner.

"No teasing." He says commandingly. You want to disobey, but you don't. Instead you swallow and then take the first half of his cock into your mouth, dragging your mouth up and down as though you were an expert at giving head.

Eventually you work your way further down his cock, taking his small gasps and moans as a sign of approval to keep going.

You reach the base of his dick and choke so you immediately pull off of his cock and cough, trying to gather more air into your lungs.

"Ah, you're doing so well for me.. Just a little more." You look up at him, going back to working your way down his cock and eventually when you get to the base again you attempt to pull back before his hand reaches down and holds your head in place.

You tear up and gag on his dick attempting to pull your head back even more. Even slapping your hands on his thighs and trying to push his legs back to no avail.

Though eventually he lets your head go again and you cough and gasp for air. Small tears form in your eyes but they don't dare fall.

"Sorry, love but it just felt so good. I won't do it again, I promise."

You just nod in response.

Geto moves and turns around walking over to the living room where the couch is seated and sits down on it. He beckons you to follow him and so you do, getting up with slightly wobbly legs, those will surely bruise tomorrow, and you stand in front of him.

"Take off your clothes." You comply, it's hard to disobey when he speaks in such a tone.

You quickly strip off your clothes until you're bare in front of him. Your cock standing at full attention. It's bigger than Geto ever imagined.

Suguru, still with only his shirt on, tells you to sit beside him as he lays down on his back and spreads his legs.

You gulp at the sight and turn so you're both laying missionary-style, you kneeling between his legs with your hands on his waist. Was his waist always this small?

You patiently wait for his order and let your eyes rake over his body. Suddenly he wraps his legs around your waist and pulls you in closer by the waist which makes you lose your balance so you position your arms so your forearms are each laying on the sides of his head. Your faces are merely inches apart.

Your face gets red at the close proximity, now you're embarrassed?

You have no idea what to do. Just continue waiting for his command, for his order, for his instructions.

"I'm already prepped just.. Go on and put it in." He says reaching his arms up to wrap them around your neck.

You are trying so hard to kiss him but you're not lovers. You're just helping a friend out. Friends don't kiss or anything like that. This is a one time thing, that's it, then you'll both go back to being buddies.

You shake your head out of your thoughts before saying, "Are you sure you don't need to be prepped again.. It might hurt."

He chuckled at your cautiousness.

"Do not worry the uh.. Curse nullifies the pain."

You're a little suspicious at this so-called curse. You have no idea how fucking him will change anything but you just go along with it.

"If you're sure then.." You comply and bring one hand down to your cock, aligning it with his hole and ever so slowly press in.

"You don't need to be so.. ngh.. gentle." He says looking up at you.

You feel nervous and just nod pressing all the way in and bringing your arm back to lie next to his head.

You both groan at the feeling.

You sit up a little so you can see him better and slowly begin thrusting in and out. He told you not to be gentle but you can't help it, you don't want to hurt him!

Eventually though you do start to speed up to which both of your moans get louder and louder.

Geto's nails claw at the back of your neck and you grunt at the tightness of his hole.

You bring yourself back down to bring your mouth to his neck and plant a kiss there before muttering a sorry and then biting down on his neck.

Suguru shouts at the bite you left. It bleeds down his neck as you plant another kiss onto it muttering another sorry.

You look almost like a sad puppy in the way you apologize.

"Haah.. Do it, again.. Please." You're slightly shocked at how even through the pain he still wants you to bite him more and at the fact that you're surprised he can even talk with how hard you're fucking him at this point.

Though you bite him again, and again, and again, 'till he has bite marks all over his neck. Red seeping over his throat and down his chest bleeding onto his white shirt. Yeah, that's definitely not going to come out.

You suddenly groan out, you can feel yourself getting even closer but judging by Suguru's look he's even closer.

You bring one hand down to his cock and stroke it.

"Too much!" He shouts but you keep going until cum spurts out of his cock and all over his shirt. Yeah, that shirt is most definitely ruined now.

Seeing how his pretty face contorts and his eyebrows knit together when he cums makes you feel hot and you nearly cum on the spot just seeing the way he looks when he ejaculates.

You let go of his cock and keep thrusting, nearing your orgasm.

Geto writhes beneath you, not even being able to speak at this point with how overstimulated he is.

So, before he gets even more overstimulated you pull out and jerk yourself off until you spill your own cum onto his shirt.

Yeah, that shirt needs to be burnt at this point.

You both sit there, panting for a moment.

"Is the curse gone now?" You say. "Oh yes uhm yes definitely." Geto responds.

You're extremely suspicious and never felt the presence of a cursed spirit so you ask, "Was there ever even a cursed spirit?"

Suguru turns slightly red at the question and looks at you trying to feign innocence before responding saying, "No, there wasn't."

"Hah! I knew it. This was just a ploy to have sex with me wasn't it? You could've just asked y'know."

Geto just laughs in response before shaking his head and moving to sit up, you start laughing with him, you both sit there for a moment, looking at each other just giggling like children.

Maybe this won't be just a one time thing after all..

[thatdeadaquarius]

Okay so-- i was reading some sagau posts and came across this one where the reader was an army vet and my brain just Did Its Thing--

So now I'm here to inflict this on to you--

Would guns be considered as catalysts. And would they only do Phys Damage.

Me reading this ask:

😶 😐 🤨 🧐 🧐 😰 🥲 😭😭😭 💀

STOP YOU'VE INFLICTED ME WITH PSYCHOLOGICAL DMG FROM THIS ASK 😭

(Also srry took so long to respond, when i didnt realize how short this was/was just sitting over here 😓)

^ For the sake of gun imagery being a lot/maybe staff might hate me for it,

we'll put this gay shit instead (i almost mispelled to "gay shot" lmao)

☆

Sun: Army Veteran Reader, Gender neutral Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: SHORT Headcanons

Stars: everybody bc i think itd be funny

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: gun stuff, mild violence, mild cursing & Trigger Warnings: Gun fun everywhere

THIS ASK HAS ME GIGGLING TO MYSELF LIKE A MANIAC

You're out here having a whole gun they let you take for off-base

And u ofc have a license so u can conceal carry

(idk how non-american gun laws work, but tbh ours are so fucked idk how they work here either, just that an army guy i knew once could have his gun when he got back home)

And ofc ur just paranoid enough (more like it just makes u feel safe)

That when u get yoinked into a portal to a silly little brightly colored gacha game fantasy world, the gun comes with 💀

Id like to add in my silly little "ur in a video game, so video game rules" AU version of genshin so:

The only other gun (ish) wielder (Mika) has unlimited bolts

Sooo I'd think your gun would be the same jfc lol

NO BC YOUD SCARE THE ACTUAL SHIT OUT OF EVERYONE IN UR VICINITY IN A BATTLE

BC GUNSHOTS ARE A DIFFERENT TYPE OF LOUD

When u first stumble into abyss monsters/hostile creatures of the realm, u nearly scare off a Lawlachurl bc every shot's like thunder to these bitches😭

So not only the monsters but the vision holders think u fucking summoned lightning

OMG THE BULLETS ARE SO FAST THEYD PROBABLY NOT SEE IT

ESP BC DISTRACTED BY GUNSHOT LOUDNESS

SO U AIM THIS LITTLE BLACK CROSSBOW (???) AND THINGS JUST DIE (OR GET RIDDLED WITH HOLES) WITH NO CLEAR ARROW STICKING OUT

STOPP- you're becoming a witchy god or smth to all of Teyvat bc it just looks like hella high level magic atp to them LMAOOO

Rumors of you get out of hand and say u just point or snap ur fingers and things get wounded/just die on the spot 💀

Oh another difference between Teyvatians seeing ur gun vs. crossbow (what they know)

Is that guns are wayyyy more destructive

Like an arrow would get shot but it'd bounce off of things like rock or wood or metal, maybe dent a little depending on how close

But a bullet goes thru that shit so easy, and leaves a whole little explosion behind, once again depending on range

(I once saw a Mythbusters episode? of them proving bullets would definitely go thru car doors, like movies lied to u, this is why drive-bys acc work like for gangs)

Lmao, the image of you in like full armor with a Teyvat made automatic gun after showing it to blacksmiths

Makes u just more convincing as a god, esp bc military training

(Ppl like Gorou and Kokomi begging for military tactics/training ur world has done)

...

....Ok.

I'll address it.

But only so u dont think im stupid later.

Yes, the Fatui have guns.

No, this not the same as having a glock LMAO

End of story.

(Also, urs runs on bullets, whereas the Fatui rely on magic/delusions to power theirs, plus they dont seem as fast or destructive as urs, more "explosions aimed at you" than real bullets)

Which,,, u leave the managing of ppl copying ur gun to ppl like the Qixing or smth, but make sure to give them advice on good gun laws if teyvat accidentally revolutionizes bc of ur advanced gun that anybody can wield (non-vision users)

Thats the best ive got abt that

Oh, also enjoy being praised as a War god now.

:)

☆

... dammit i had smth i was gonna tell u guys-

Uh what tf was it, it was important

OH

Next post is the Eldritch God Oneshot! Look out for it :) !!

☆

Safe Travels Kid,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

[ressonancee]

WESTERN WIND

Vernon is on the verge of freaking out - Vernon is chill, Vernon is calm, but everyone has a limit, and Vernon's limit is when he complains 3 consecutive weeks about his front wing and the engineering team doesn't do a thing about it.

✦ genre: F1 Alternative Universe, almost enemiers to lovers (but really just have a fight in the workplace now we are weird), smut, they do it without protection so - be safe guys love you.

✦ word count: 8.9k+ ✦ title inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen - Western wind

✦ Thea note: okay, this was a challenge!! This was written for a friend who enjoys the f1 world and isn't a carat - but we are working on it. I write for me and I write what i like to read and to me, Vernon screams lazy sex so that's that - that's really nothing more on this subject. reminder 1: i am not an english speaker so i am very sorry about any mistake but you don't need to be a bitch about it. Also, I may try to write every member but gooooood some are harder than others, and vernon was hard for me so i am sorry if the characterization is weird or when you are reading this you think shit this is not Vernon lol I reached a point where i was like yeah i'm giving up.

Vernon has always been obsessed with the idea of flying. 

Not taking an airplane-flying, but actually flying. The closest he got to this was behind a steering wheel. And he got so obsessed with the feeling - first the wind against his face, then the whiplash of going too fast.  He loved it so much that he just made a career out of it. 

And Vernon was good at it, one of the best really, first drive in his new team and all. But it is the seventh grand prix and the car still lacking and there is so much he can do with pure strength and strategy. 

He can't fight aerodynamics. He can't, and to be honest, he shouldn't do what the engineering team was supposed to. But he is one step away from getting out of the car and breaking the damn front wing with his bare hand in the middle of the box. Vernon, a lot of people don't know, but he has this kind of superpower when he gets incredibly mad his face is still calm, and nobody knows he is on the verge of freaking out.

But Vernon just handles the steering wheel to the guy next to the car and jumps off it without making a scene. On a scale of Fernando Alonso to Kimi Raikkonen Vernon leans more to Kimi's side, even though right now he may pull off a Nico Rosberg or psychological warfare like Michael Schumacher against the engineering team, he is not above it today. 

He is no Kimi Raikkone though. Vernon does prefer just being in the car. He enjoys being on the circuit running laps. He is chill with being on the go, traveling around, jumping on airplanes, and Vernon developed a near to perfect packing method - he travels with just a backpack, thanks god. Vernon doesn't love press tours, sometimes they are just insufferable. He doesn't love to have a run down when his week has been shit - trashed car or broken really. But otherwise, Vernon is cool with it, he laughs a little, he goofs with other pilots, he has friends - sometimes he goes out with Lee Chan the Haas pilot. Sometimes he cracks jokes with Mingyu and Wonwoo - the Red Bull duo. So sometimes press is actually fun, and even tho Vernon is an accomplished guy in his field pole and race win on his name he also still has idols on the paddocks because he is against names like Choi Seungcheol and Hong Joshua.

So Vernon enjoys his life really, he isn't one to overthinking about what choosing this type of life made him lose. He gained so much that it would be unfair to do that, to wonder what it could be.

But when Vernon feels like his team is not even hearing his complaint about how the aerodynamics of the car is fucked up Vernon wants to just crash the car and scream in the box. What the fuck? Fix the gooddamn wing for fuck's sake. 

But Vernon doesn't scream in the middle of the box, it wouldn't be good for the press, and Vernon is calm he is chill, but he isn't dumb. He does this when the engineering team, himself, and Choi Minho, his team principal, are in a more private area.

"What the hell? I've been complaining about the front wing since the Australia GP."

"We have been working on the wing." The engineering girl slash prodigy answers.

"And why the fuck is not working properly? This car will fly out of the track if a single drop of rain falls." Vernon continues because he is the one putting his life on the line really. Why no one is giving a fuck about what he has been saying.

"We are trying, you know about regulations we cant-" You try to say as if everybody doesn't remember that FIA is actually the worst ever and it is your job to care about regulations too.

"Oh my fucking God. I gonna crash this car in the first fucking lap I am not even kidding." Vernon says pacing around the table, he hates the whole can't do won't do FIA-related frustration. 

"Ok, Vernon you know we can't really do anything about it right now," Minho says arms crossed. "So stop bitching about it, and no you will not crash my car in the first lap you are not stupid." And now Vernon knows he can't really crash his car but he feels the urge to do it nonetheless, Minho can scrap his bank account he doesn't care, he can go fucking penny less but he will have his front wing fixed up.

 "You," Minho says pointing at you and you are actually relieved, you can take the screams of the team principal - even tho Minho is not near screaming, but taking shit from the pilot? Not gonna happen "For fuck sake take his complaint and actually do something about it for the next GP, you have like 5 people that could have been working for NASA in the team if he complains again about this mothefucker wing again I gonna have a stroke," he says leaving the room.

"Why do you guys only act when I bring Choi Minho to the room?" Vernon asks feeling dumb and to be honest disrespected. He knows he is young, he knows he is new, but he was brought to the team for a reason.

"Not that it matters," You say already picking the things around the table, probably from a previous meeting. "But he is my boss, not you Vernon."

"I am the one inside the car," Vernon says trying to attain some kind of respect or authority.

"Ok, that's not relevant to me whatsoever. I work designing a car that if we put a dog behind the wheel is gonna be fast so-" You say because you are tired this front wing nightmare has been going on for more than the australia grand prix actually, it's always the same problem, again and again, your team fixes it but it always comes back to life like a zombie or something.

"Did you just say that I am not relevant? Are you kidding me?" Vernon actually scoffs because of course he knew when he arrived in Mercedes that the team is bigger than him, he knew what all the critics said, but being treated that poorly by a co-worker? Fucked up man.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Yeah yeah yeah like Im just a dumb kid on the wheel, that's what you meant. I really thought we could build a nice relationship and all-" Vernon cuts you already opening up his overall because it is hot as fuck, like one step away from dying hot. "I guess the civil war thing going on wasn't in my plans but if you guys on the engineering want that I have no problem whatsoever in being a fucking dick."

Vernon says almost dashing to his trailer, fucking stupid overalls dangling around his waist because if one of the journalists asks him something about his wing or his time or how Kim Mingyu got the pole, Choi Minho is not the only one who will have a stroke. Health care plans and his life insurance will skyrocket.

After Vernon takes a shower, he realizes how dumb and idiotic he is. This happens a lot. Vernon doesn't really know how to deal with his rage, so when the anger dissipates, he just ends up regretting everything. 

Regretting is not even close to the proper word. When Vernon analyzes the chances of him fucking up his entire year because you simply do not rage war on your engineering team - that was like a rule, not a rule scratch that, it was a dogma. A rule you can break, if you try that shit on a dogma, you will root in hell. The hell being Vernon's worst nightmare - having the team ask him to pull aside to the other driver because he can't keep up, the reason? His shitty ass front wing.

But when the actual race comes and Vernon starts the race in third and finishes up in 5th place, he doesn't know who will drop dead first, him or Choi Minho. 

"Do we need a meeting between grand prix to fix this hellhole you guys have been calling a car?" His boss asks and Vernon can see you just rolling your eyes. Dude, that's crazy. Did you just roll your eyes to Choi Minho? That was insane. 

And Vernon coped the only way he knew - developing a wealth obsession fueled by hatred, all because you didn't give him his wing and a roll of your eyes at Choi Minho.

Before that, Vernon really didn't have a problem with you. Since he moved to Mercedes everything was great! Great team! New and more powerful car! Great teammate - Lee Jihoon, who actually took Vernon under his wing. The pre-season was great, and he didn't have problems with you whenever you two had to talk about the development stage of the car. 

Actually, Vernon finds you interesting really, that's not a lot of women in F1, and the majority of the women actually deal with public relations or team management like Kwon Boa. He always saw you around, really, always in jeans, tennis, and a Mercedes shirt. Sometimes with glasses, sometimes with a cap on. Always chatting with someone, sometimes writing things down on a notebook, sometimes explaining something. 

He didn't actually have any problems with you. He didn't have a reason, but now? Now Vernon can't really back off, can he? God, he was not a fighter and neither a hater, but he wasn't a coward either. 

So when his one-week break is cut short and people send him to Northamptonshire Vernon is angry because really: 1st he could use a few days off, 2nd between the Emilia-Romagna and the Monaco GP he had booked a crazy Airbnb in Cannes.

Now he was stuck in this hell hole of a place, in a way too cold meeting room, with like the whole engineering team and his boss. Not ideal. So Vernon's mind just wonders really, he thinks about how he needs to catch up on his favorite TV show, maybe he can check on his family later, or call his friend Boo Seungkwan - maybe he would call Seungkwan to Monaco is bouge enough for Seungkwan.

“And that's why we try to fix the front wing, but it seems like the aerodynamic problem is always back. Lee Seokmin actually did design another front wing at the start of the pre-season but you guys said that this one had a better grip” You finish the whole ppt-presentation, sometimes you hated your job so much, and by sometimes you meant the whole ppt presentation of a problem that we can`t actually fix because of regulations and because you guys main driver didn't do proper feedback in the first place. And now you have a problem in your hands, that to begin with, it wasn't even yours. 

“So the best thing we can do is?” Choi Minho asks and you laugh because right now you are not the one treating Vernon like a damn child on the wheel, it is Choi Minho, but Vernon is too engrossed in his own mind to notice or he feigns ignorance because it is Choi Minho who is talking, not you the mere translator girl for the engineering team. 

“We can try always the wet tire even if it's just light, and we can always use the soft tire at the beginning of the race it is the less durable but if he is in a good position to start with we can always call him back-”

“So, we did this three-hour meeting” Vernon actually checked his watch. It was a tree hour meeting for god`s sake. “for the resolution being soft tire and pray for a good pit stop? Are we crazy?”

“If you heard about FIA rules we cannot-” You try to speak but really, you don't even know why you start when you know you gonna be ignored by the man in the room and it’s F1 there is always a man in the room, always.

“Ok ok,” Vernon interrupts. “Just so you know that’s crazy, everything about this wing situation is crazy, we are just handling the championship, we are not even close to being - I don't know? 5th fucking place.” 

“We need to make the legal team re-analyze the rules,” Minho says contemplative and not really angry, and to be honest you wouldn't be either because it is true, but Vernon could be less bitch about it because it is not your fault either

“Just that? Ok,” Vernon says and he gets up because when Minho talks about the legal team it`s gonna take 4 to 6 days to actually find a loophole in the damn manual, but hey ok, it's fine, Vernon it’s chill, but not chill enough because the next moment his mouth is moving. “Maybe you could ask for the engineering team to work on that too I don't know just a thought” 

And you laugh, loud and clear. And Vernon is truly spooked. What the heck? Are you going crazy? Has the excruciating work and the insane hours with the weekly jetlag made you crazy? 

“Yeah Minho,” you say, picking up the papers. Why do you always pick up? Are they top-secret papers? Vernon never thought about corporate espionage, but it may be a thing. “Maybe you can ask your drivers for proper feedback when I ask them about grip and wings and start making them say whole sentences, not it's bad and a sad emoji. If we did send a form about this shit we wouldn't have this problem,” You actually leave them room, but Minho and Vernon continue listening to your voice down the hall. “Oh Vernon, how it’s going with the car. Make them say 4 whole sentences and not it's chill. Maybe that would help” and then you scream. “Just a thought."

“I mean” Choi Minho starts getting up too. “Nothing against a rivalry in the workplace, dang in my times, it was worse. But if I get an actual complaint - Humans Resources or Legal Team involved - I am so firing both of you, and I am not even caring about labor law or whatever.” 

And Vernon thinks it's weird how he was the first one to get up and the last one out of the meeting room.

So when Vernon actually arrives in Monaco - Boo Seungkwan, his best friend since birth, on his side, the civil war in his team is still going on at full speed. The tire strategy is still in place. Choi Minho still looks at him every five minutes like a babysitter. You still give a side eye every time you both share a room, Vernon is even more aware that you roll your eyes at everyone. Are you just discontent with everything?

But he doesn't think so when he sees you and Jeonghan, the team strategy, and Jun, one of the mechanics, laughing while eating lunch. Vernon is puzzled really why the fuck is he, Choi Minho, and the whole team getting side eyes and Jeonghan and Jun receiving beautiful smiles and even laughs? That's weird, more than weird, that's unfair really.

"What's going on in your head?" Boo Seungkwan asks, actually stealing a bite of Vernon chicken's breast. 

"Just, you know the whole war in the team. That's the girl that is actually making my life hell." Vernon says voice low like he is telling Seungkwan a secret, trying to be discreet. 

"That one?" Seungkwan asks loud and not caring about the top secret war going on, apparently. "Oh, Vernon, she is pretty."

"And?" Vernon thinks puzzled because really he never stopped to think about it. "Ok, ok, stop looking," Vernon says when he sees Jeonghan looking back at his table, grabbing Seungkwan and almost getting up and turning Seungkwan`s head himself. God.

"You didn't tell me she was pretty." Seungkwan acts like it was the most important thing ever. Missing the point, really, because the most important thing ever in this whole ordeal was Vernon's career and the probability of it ending abruptly. 

"Yeah, because it is not important, I mean…" Vernon trails off because again, he never stopped really, but thinking about you are pretty. Or at least not recently. Vernon thinks back when you two met in the pre-season and he may have blushed once or twice talking to you in the first days, but he wouldn't call it a crush.

"Hey Vernon," Jeonghan says, stopping at his side. "We will go over the strategy at 3 pm for the first free practice, so if you need anything, just give us a heads up before."

"Oh, sure man, actually I was thinking about the ty-" Vernon starts.

"Bye guys, if I hear one more driver talking about how they don’t want to start with a soft tire today, I'm gonna jump the nearest cliff." You say, lacing arms with Jun and just dragging him.

"Oh, she is feisty today," Jeonghan laughs. "Okay, anyway, you can bring everything to the team, right? I need to actually get some information with her so-" 

"Sure, sure man, no big." 

“Yeah," Boo Seungkwan just laughs, and laughs, he actually almost falls backward type of laughing “When was the last time you got laid?"

"Hm?" Out of nowhere? What the heck was going on in his friend’s mind? But Vernon actually needs time to think about it, fuck, when was the last time? Vernon didn’t even remember with whom. "I don't know a few weeks?"

"Months right?" Seungkwan answered in a heartbeat, chewing on a long French fries.

"Maybe dude, you know it is hard when I am always on the go." And it was hard, Vernon wasn’t lying. He didn’t enjoy the whole no-string attached really, and after he got a little famous - in a very niche type of famous he knew that, he was no rockstar type of guy, but still, he enjoyed it even less.

"Yeah didn't peg you for doing in the workplace kind of guy, always talking about how it is precious and nothing can disturb the paddock’s energy,” Seungkwan says making Vernon almost choke on his food.

“First, that is the rule that applies when you want to bring your boyfriend Kwon Soonyoung because last time he almost broke my trophy,” Vernon can actually feel the chill going through his body just remembering the scene that his traumatized brain conjures up, it was his first grand prix win and Seungkwan boyfriend almost knocked it down. “second we are not doing anything. We are actually enemies” 

“Oh,” Seungkwan stops, truly stops, dropping his fork and knife, and he stares at Vernon, but Vernon knows it is not a stare, Seungkwan is analyzing Vernon like he always did. “Well, that's even worse, because when it happens - see not if, I said when it's going to be a nuclear bomb, thanks good I am not going to Spain with you and me and my lovely boyfriend will be having a few days off in Monaco so…” 

The problem was that Seungkwan was always annoyingly right. Seungkwan was right when he said Vernon's last relationship wouldn't last more than 3 months. Seungkwan was also right about Vernon's first love and second. Seungkwan had this superpower really, Seungkwan was always there to see the picture better before Vernon did.

But Vernon always just shrugged and went to his next task, now free practice. And Vernon did slightly better than he thought - 4th place. So he wasn't actually totally dejected after the press asked him about the probability of rain. Everything was fine until Vernon saw the little orange cat hiding in the corner of the Mercedes trailer.

Vernon squatted and tried to call the little kitten really, it was tiny and made Vernon's heart break a little because when the cat was approaching him Vernon saw how he was limping, front paw looking hurt. Also, the little dude looked muddy. He may hate Vernon for it, but he needed a good wash.

"Hey," You say looking at Vernon who just started stroking the orange cat fur. "I was just-" You point at the water container.

"Ah yeah," Vernon says, giving you a nod. "I was thinking of finding something so this little guy can eat but-"

"We don't know anything around, same." You say squatting on Vernon's side and putting the container on the ground, little dude giving you both a meow.

"Could we-" Vernon starts but you just cut him.

"Make a trainee do the hard work? Make them go to the nearest supermarket, " you say, laughing a little, like you laugh with others. And Vernon thinks that maybe your brain is too fast, two-step forwards already, ahead of everyone, always.

"Yeah, I was thinking about asking someone or even the Grand Prix organizers to even get a vet around. I think something is wrong with his paw." Vernon points at the cat, and he stops for a minute thinking about how he is so used to being in the paddock but not really knowing his way around it. He strokes the cat again, almost feeling the urge to pick him up and go around asking if anyone knows a vet.

"You shouldn't be touching him." You say and Vernon feels a little offended. Did you enjoy telling him what to do? Vernon could take it, he didn't like it, but when it was about the race he could take it, but about a cat? Really? "Like, for health reasons." 

"Yeah, I was thinking about taking him to the trailer, but if he has fleas, that would be a nightmare," Vernon says hand still scratching the little cat like the rebel he was. 

"Can you-" You trail off, looking around, and Vernon can almost see your brain working inside your skull.

"What?"

"Look, we have like two options.” You say getting up and fixing your pants. And Vernon thinks that Seungkwan was actually right shit, you are actually and objectively pretty. “You can be an asshole and make someone do the job just because you are throwing a i am a star fit"

"Or?"

"You could totally do your I am a heartthrob bit on the communication team newbie, she kinda has a crush on you, so she would totally find Seb a vet place. Just don't let Minghao know.” Vernon just feels like a lot of what you just said goes over his head because it really doesn’t make sense to him, Heartthrob what? Crush who? Seb? 

"Are we calling him Seb?"

"I mean he just gives me Sebastian Vettel energy all around you know, he is kind of shy and orange," you say trying not to sound dumb, feeling a little anxious - because Vernon always made you feel this way, an uneasy feeling paired with his low voice.

"Yeah, I can see that” and Vernon smiles, dude the cat really looks like Sebastian. God - in that exact moment Vernon knows that his life is fucked up, he is picking a stray cat when the next 3 weeks he will be jumping from airplane to airplane. But look at him, Vernon can't leave Seb in a freaking paddock, in the end of the week everything will be gone.

"So? Which one? I'm pretty sure we can try just telling Minho you went rogue as the third option but…"

"The heartthrob one just-" Vernon can feel his forehead itch and the beginning of a headache. He can't do a heartthrob bit. What is he talking about? "Just show me the way."

"I need your keys," you say to Vernon, hand open in his direction "First we need a box and a towel. We can't let little Seb on the loose."

"He is a little difficult, though. Pretty sure he won't stay in the box," Vernon tells you already giving you his key.

"I think I can steal a few eggs for him on the way. If they are boiled, it won't be a problem. He seems hungry enough."

And Vernon actually plays with Seb until you arrive, a box filled with Vernon's towel - probably the one he used this morning, and a plastic plate full of eggs. And then you are already dragging Vernon around to the second task - the heartthrob bit. And Vernon thinks about how quick on your feet you are - figuratively, and literally, you walk really fast. Later, you tell him that is a job thing, not a you thing. Apparently to be an F1 engineer you need to think fast, walk quickly, and solve everyone's problems.

Vernon did the heartthrob bit - it actually ended up with the newbie taking Seb to the vet, you gave her a to-do list (1 - check his paw, 2 - check for fleas, 3 - don't forget the shots!!!) and Vernon's credit card. But Vernon still with a weird taste in his mouth. How did you know the newbie had a crush on him? That's totally weird.

But hey the trainee actually found a vet, and she brings Seb back with shots and a bath. And now Vernon is staring at his cat, thinking about how if he needs to call the hotel to check about the animal policy, maybe he could do the heartthrob bit to the hotel manager. Or he could leave Seb unattended, he could eat something, chew his race boot, or - then Vernon hears a knock, which is weird of course because Vernon doesn't actually receive visits in the motor home, people know that Vernon is sensitive about that - no fans, no press, no knocking when he is in the motorhome.

"Hi," you say as soon as Vernon opens his door, "just came to see the little guy."

"Oh, yeah sure," of course it was you, the only person who doesn't actually care about Vernon’s word and maybe well-being, but Vernon kind of understands, Seb is cute, "he looks tired tho."

"It's okay, I just came to give him some love." You say one digit going between Seb’s ear, squatting on the floor, letting Seb chill in his place, "Are you going to the hotel?" 

"I don't know,” Vernon scratches his kneck because it is true, he doesn’t actually have any idea what he is about to do, maybe he can take his race boots and everything essential so Seb doesn't chew on it, "I need to go but I can’t leave him alone but also I can’t sleep on the couch, it will fuck up my neck and also can’t just not sleep."

"You can go, I can sleep here on the bed, not a problem." You say sitting on the floor, Seb little groggy but wake, you pick him up and put him on your lap, and he just purr. What the hell? His cat is purring? For another person? What?

"I can’t let you do that,” he can’t because his cat is already in love and because he also knows that his motorhome bed is just uncomfortable. 

"Don’t worry, we are just-" you say finally looking at Vernon’s eyes, "co-parenting" You say and Vernon feels like a bomb just dropped, and the whole humanity just vanished, he can hear a pin drop.

"Co-pareting? A cat?" Vernon says like his brain is not really functioning.

"Yeah Vernon,” You start, and Vernon can see a small smile across your face, “people have different family arrangements. You, me, and Seb, divorced people with a kid, it's okay." 

"Divorced?" Vernon actually lets out a laugh, a scoff really. Why are you trying to mess with him ? This is not even close to normal.

"Yeah we are not on great terms but we sacrifice for him."

Vernon leaves - not because you said he could, not because you found a solution, but because it was the right thing to do for his performance really. Vernon leaves because his neck is a prized possession, and because he needs to sleep , he needs his best reaction time. And Vernon is an athlete. People may say that driving a car is not a sport, but people don’t know how much the g-force makes his neck almost break. But when Vernon lays in bed with his special pillow, Vernon can’t actually sleep. His mind goes back to his motorhome, to his just-for-stretching bed, and never actually sleeps. His mind, Vernon finds out, is going back to you sleeping in that awful bad, to the way you treat the little cat like it can break, and the way that every time your hand goes against the cat's fur Venon can actually feel the love.

Vernon is so fucked.

He starts to think that Seungkwan is actually right.

And Vernon can't actually sleep because you are tormenting his mind and Seungkwan's voice telling him 'I told you so' echoes in his mind.

Even tho not getting the eight-hour sleep Vernon gets what his system needs to be quick on his reactions -  Wonwoo and Seungcheol actually crash in front of him, debris over his head and Vernon has control enough to just not crash in the crash in the narrows streets of Monaco. Nightmare, really. Vernon finishes in third because of it, and even tho he is in the podium, he can't actually feel happy about it.

Maybe that's really why Vernon can't have his car with a fucked up wing because it can mean life and death. Later that day he makes sure to go check with both drivers - halo is ugly as fuck but saves lives.

Vernon is thankful that he doesn't have time to actually think about life and death because you are shoving him into a funny bag and telling him to put Seb inside and telling him that you actually are about to sit next to him. So Vernon ends up with a cat bag on his lap, Seb strangely chills about everything, your hand going inside the bag just to stroke his fur.

He ends up sleeping the flight, which is only about 1h40 minutes, but Vernon feels like he needed that nap.

The perception of time in the world of F1 is really truly bizarre. Vernon is always running, always thinking about how he can go faster, even when he is doing the press talk. Minghao walks faster, and explains everything for Vernon in 3 sentences, if it is a sponsor or if it is a journalist, if he needs to actually talk about the car, or if it is a 'content' bit. 

But when Vernon is going around the paddock and see you leaning against Jeonghan smile bright and full Vernon actually stops on his track, it is late, and everything is figured out in the paddock why the hell are you and Jeonghan laughing about?

"Come on, Vern," Minghao calls him, making his neck turn. "Come on, we have three more, and if I don't arrive in time for my dinner with Mika, she is going to kill me."

So Vernon lets Minghao drag him across the paddock. But his mind is still on the scene, you leaning and smiling against Jeonghan, and Vernon doesn't want to, but he feels jealous. He wants to be Jeonghan so fucking bad.

Vernon really doesn't have much time to think about it, he needs to sleep, watch his water intake, and think about his neck - his neck is his most important body part as a f1 driver, and he did think his neck was feeling a little funny. But every time Vernon sits and has time to himself, his brain conjures the image of you and Jeonghan in his eyelid.

Vernon doesn't think it was because of his neck or because his sleep was extremely shitty but the next day, his car crashes against a brick wall. Not great. Not ideal. Not fun either. So Vernon does what he needs to do. Even if he feels fine and got out of the car on his own, he needs his trip to the hospital. Turns out a few hours later, the medical team is sure that Vernon is not dying, but he may have a concussion.

When Vernon is back in his motor home to pick Seb back to the hotel (this time he actually made sure it was okay with the hotel's policy) he founds you lying on his useless motor home bed.

"Hey," you say getting up the bed "are you okay?"

"Yeah yeah," Vernon drops his bag on the floor and sits down by your side. "Just a concussion."

"Okay," you say, looking at Vernon, like actually looking at him searching for something. "I was scared it wasn't a pretty scene, Vernon."

"I know, but I'm okay," but Vernon is so so tired, he is okay and he feels okay but he feels the urge to just lie in this horrible bed and just stay in it, he doesn’t even care about his neck really - he can call for physiotherapy or something. 

"Still, the whole team was worried, you don’t need to act like it wasn’t scary,” you say and Vernon just feels so heavy, like his whole body is made of bricks, even tho he is ok with it, he is used to it really, but the crash still takes a tool on his body "and you should have gone directly to the hotel"

"I was just picking Seb up," Vernon just lies on that horrible bed and it doesn’t really seem that bad, or he is just so tired that even lying on the floor seems like a good option now. His mind is tired too - Vernon can’t even think.

"You didn't need to do that. You could've ringed me up, you know, co-parenting,” you say, voice small, and Vernon's hazed mind almost doesn’t catch it.

"Yeah," Vernon scoffs. Really, he didn’t even think about texting you,  "I don't think I have your number"

"Oh shit," You say picking up Vernon's phone and putting it in front of his face to unlock his phone, "ok gonna save my number you need to send me Seb pics I don't think you should bring him up, we have a week off you are probably going back to England right? You should hire someone to go see him daily or-" 

Vernon just feels the urge to actually kiss you. You are just there, cat on your lap, thinking about how Vernon shouldn't bring Seb around anymore, you are so so worried about his health and if he is getting stressed, and you go on about how Vernon just needs to let him rest in his place in England even tho it would be super hard for you because you are getting used to distress, every work day you pop up in Vernon motor home to say hi to the cat - and to Vernon, it all feels like a freaking lullaby, he actually nestles himself in the bed, searching for the better position to just sleeps. 

"See," you say to Vernon when you see how dozed off he is "you never pay attention." 

"I am paying attention," Vernon answers, eyes still shut but not actually sleeping. 

"You are not. You are zoomed out," You say, lying on his side, legs dangling out of the bed.  "What were you thinking?"

"Nothing really," Vernon says because he is not really thinking about anything concrete really, his brain is all over the place.

"Vern," you actually whine, "I thought we were becoming friends parenting the same kid"

"We are becoming friends" Vernon laughs because that is weird right? “I have your phone now we are definitely friends”

"See? So tell me, what's on your mind lately?" You try again, but Vernon just hums."You seem actually stressed lately. Is Minho bothering you? I  know the results are not great, but i promise we are trying" 

"I know, I know, don't worry about that." And Vernon feels actually bad because it is the first time he can feel that you are a little guilty, no scratch that, tired? Vernon can’t really catch the feeling, but he knows that you care. 

“I am not worried about that, I care about the results but you crashed today, the med team said you may have a concussion, and I don’t know if you are just zooming out in an ok way or zooming out in a concussion-induced way.” 

“It’s not the concussion the hospital let me go, it is just, I’m just tired” Vernon feels your hand on his hair, petting him, almost like you do with Seb, and Vernon just let himself sleep feeling the affection in the way your fingers travel in his skull. 

The thing is, even when Vernon is in his house in England he doesn't really feel at home, because it is a company provided apartment, and to be fair Vernon didn't put a lot of effort in it. So in his week off Vernon tries to focus on his physical training, on his neck, on his diet, on sleeping, but every time his phone vibrates Vernon just feels giddy and excited because 80% of the time it is just you reacting to Seb's pics Vernon sent.

Vernon tries not to think about how fast you answer his messages or how sometimes you send audio snips, and Vernon doesn't feel angry - he always hated audio message god. Vernon also hated calls but one night he actually video calls you and you are already in bed but you said you wanted to say goodnight to Seb but you and Vernon spends more than an hour chatting about nothing and everything. 

When the time comes, Vernon ponders; leaving Seb behind or actually flying with the cat. So he just calls Boo Seungkwan to babysit Sebastian - the hours of flight and the jetlag would just make him stressed, even tho Vernon thinks he is the worst person ever adopting a cat to just let him stay in an empty apartment even tho Seungkwan will make sure he is eating, and Vernon actually begged 3 times to Seungkwan check Seb's litter box.

To everyone's surprise, Vernon actually gets a pole position. To be honest, even to Vernon and his team it was a surprise, too. But it was a good one. You congratulated him, and that night, you and Vernon called Seungkwan and spent like 45 minutes talking to a cat and cooing together - like parents on a holiday.

Vernon thinks it's kinda weird really - how you two fell into this dynamic of sharing a pet, and in a way, you two turned into friends too. So when Vernon is ready to get out to his car you are the last one to greet him, and Vernon is not really superstitious but he thinks he will make sure that this turns into a new team ritual.

When Vernon crosses the finish line, he feels it - the feeling that Vernon always chased in a way. When he hears the screams and laughs on his radio, he feels he can actually let go and just enjoy. He did. He won a grand prix again.

And when Vernon is showered with champagne, hears his national anthem, and jumps to the crowd he thinks about you. He tries to find you really but Minghao just directs him to the press area.

“Hey,” you say, popping your head in the door crack after knocking on his door. “Heard you were looking for me.”

“Yeah yeah.” And Vernon feels sticky. His whole body is covered in champagne. He is looking like a mess, but god, he is so so happy. “Didn’t see you in the celebration.” 

“I was around. Saw everything, don't worry" You move and close the door acting like you guys didn't accomplish the best thing in the whole world because that's how Vernon feels like he is on top of the world. 

“No no-” Vernon's smile is so big, and he touches your arms, and he actually stops, and he looks at you. “We did! We actually did it!” 

“You did it" you say almost shoving him, but Vernon's hands don't leave your arms - hot and sticky against your skin, "don't need to be humble it was a great race on your side-”

“No no no listen, we both did it. We did it together. We are sharing this," Vernon says - smile still big across his face, he is so sweaty why do you think that seeing Vernon happy is the best thing ever? “Come on, say it”

“We did it” You say smiling, not even because you are happy with his win - you are, you are happy for the team, and you are happy for Vernon, but Vernon is so happy and in a way is so infectious you just can not smile like him.

“We sure did,” and Vernon hugs you, head dropping on your shoulder, “god-”

“What?"

“You smell nice," Vernon says voice muffled.

“Thank you, you smell like really nice champagne," you say with a laugh, god Vernon is so happy, and there is only one thing that would make him happier -

"And-” He tries to master his courage to say, “and I wish I could kiss you.”

When Vernon kisses you, he almost feels the breeze, almost feeling the physical sensations that involve flying, because, in his head, he is already 10 thousand feet high. He feels so out of it that Vernon just let you take what you want for him. God, you want so much. 

Vernon can feel it. He feels in the way your fingers hold his jaw. He feels in the way your mouth goes together, like two pieces made to fit each other. He feels in the way that you react when his hands hold your hips so tightly, whimpering in his mouth.

Vernon is not one to complain about speed, but when his whole world is spinning and everything is going so fucking fast he wishes he could stop the time, make it go backward, make it go slower. 

His whole life, he fought against the clock. If he was two seconds faster if he didn't waste milliseconds in the second curve. Vernon was always running, but now, fuck Vernon wishes he could go slow.

So Vernon chooses to take his time, not hurry. He kisses you slowly. The way that he trails his lips against your jaw is slow, and the way that his hands travel to your ribcage is slow.

"Vernon," you try to call his attention, to make him hurry, to make him speed up, but the only thing that Vernon gives you is a non-committal noise.

And Vernon thinks you are in a fucking trailer, with a not-great bed, and he has one better - bigger and with his trusted neck pillow but everything just shatters when someone knocks on his door.

And when Vernon opens the door and sees Minghao he thinks two things: Minghao is his worst enemy really, Minghao must hate him. The second one? Vernon asks himself how many wins he needs in his career to do a contract clause saying he is never doing press again, if someone asks him to do an interview or youtube content he is allowed to change teams before the end of his contract.

Vernon goes back to everything needs to move fast behavior. You two jump on a plane, and again, Vernon has his week off - while you need to go to Austria to check everything related to the engineering team. So when Vernon arrives and Seb purrs against his leg, he films it and sends it to you. When Vernon is chilling on his bed and Seb acts like Vernon's body is his personal pillow, he films it and sends it to you. When you say you are crying because you miss the cat, Vernon calls you and says you can knock on his door anytime. 

When Vernon arrives in the paddock the first thing he does is ask Jun where you were - meeting room, you had a meeting with Jeonghan and Minho, but when Vernon knocks on the door you are alone.

"You really did it." It's the first thing you say to Vernon.

"Yeah" He shrugs. "it was a promise."

"It looks good on you," you say, sitting in front of him at the table, hand touching Vernon’s hair, feeling the urge to ruffle it. 

"So, like, my last meal was airplane food, so I was thinking about taking you to dinner," Vernon says, and you just think how it is unfair that even tho he is not conscious of it, he is doing the heartthrob thing, the lazy eyes, the small smile, the unkept hair - now blonde.

"Hm-" you try your best to not just throw your papers and forget you have an actual job just because Vernon smiled at you, "I don't know if I am free, actually Minho was talking about going over the strategy with you so-"

"Yeah? Ok, I can call him and say the airplane gave me a headache so," Vernon picks his phone up and starts typing something, "I don't know Austrian food that well but we can always go to an Italian."

"Italian, I prefer Italian," you say, chin resting on your hand and just admiring Vernon. You are pretty sure if you were a cartoon, they would draw you with heart eyes.

"Nice."

You let Vernon wine and dine you. The restaurant was nice, and it was even nicer that you and Vernon sat side by side in low light, and you can just rest your head on his shoulder because you were truly tired and because every time you did that you could actually sniff Vernon a bit, and he smells so so good. 

You guys just chat about everything, and at some point, Vernon actually unlocks his phone and just lets you browse his gallery (90% of it is Seb's pics or videos, and the other 10% were the pics you sent him about your day - a coffee, a building, anything silly that made you smile), and looking at it made your heart melt.

In a silent agreement, you just hop in Vernon's Uber and end up on his hotel bed, with Vernon on top of you. 

Vernon kisses you slowly like he has all the time in the world - and you are weak enough for him, so you don't complain, you don't hurry him. To be honest you don't want him to hurry either, you are enjoying the way Vernon is nested between your legs, the way you can feel his weight on your body, and the way that his hands feel against your neck.

The way Vernon touches you makes you feel treasured, makes your heart full, and makes you want to make him feel the same way, and you try your best.

You try when your hands travel to his biceps, squeezing it the way his hands tighten against your hips. You try when your hand goes through his hair when he kisses your neck. You try when Vernon's hands travel under your shirt and you kiss his cheeks because it's the only place you reach.

Vernon doesn't think, and he doesn't try. He just does, and he accepts what you give him.

When Vernon outright grinds on you and you whimper, Vernon accepts it. When your hands claw at his shirt, he accepts, and when he gets off, you take his shirt off and see you doing the same. Vernon thinks that maybe you gonna give him more than he can take.

You don't rush him, you let Vernon watch you, but you feel rushed, so you get up as well, mouth. chasing Vernon's while you take off your bra. 

The way Vernon holds you makes your mind spin. The way his firm body feels against yours, and how his hands feel against your back. And even though you try, Vernon still kisses you slowly.

Vernon holds you when he makes you lie on the bed, "baby lemme just-" he says, giving your hips a small kiss, and opening the button of your pants, when he takes your pants off you can feel his digits traveling against your leg and you are sure he can feel the goosebumps on your skin.

Vernon's fingers close against your ankle, and Vernon brings it against his mouth, "Vern " you try to call him, and you feel dumb enough that you just beg. And Vernon kisses you again, one hand on your chest and the other grabbing your hips.

And you think you can take slow when Vernon is on top of you, legs tangled, his lips now on your neck. Every time your hips move together Vernon hums against your skin and you wish he was naked already. But when Vernon's lips find your chest you can't really complain because you feel so lost, he takes one of your nipples in your mouth, and he gives attention to the other one too, taking your nipple between two fingers and toying with it

When Vernon releases your breast with a pop you remember to call him, "Vern please"

"What?" He says hands toying with your panty line, digits hot against your hips.

"Your pants," you say, feeling your mouth dry, body buzzing.

"Oh right," Vernon says and you already feel remorseful when Vernon detaches his body from yours. 

You try to reach Vernon with your hands, palms against his skin, on his chest, on his abs, on his thighs. Everywhere - trying to placate the lack of the feeling of his body against yours. 

When Vernon finishes getting his pants off he holds your head, hand against your nape and jaw and he kisses you, and you feel a little better thinking he suffered like you did in those milliseconds that your bodies have been apart from each other.

And Vernon did, and when he stops to look at you, to really look, tracing his thumb against your mouth and you open just enough for your tongue to lap at his digit Vernon thinks he is going crazy. 

God, you are just so pretty on his bed, hair messy, trails of his kiss against your skin. Vernon knows he is so fucking lucky, and if he could he would stop the time, he would treasure every second - he would go so fucking slow he would make the clock go backward. You, however, don't really care, you just touch Vernon, hand under his underwear giving his dick a few pumps while Vernon's hands leave an imprint on your ribcages.

Vernon helps you a little, one hand on your hips and another one lowering his underwear, his dick finally free. When Vernon looks down, he can see how red his skin is - a blush coloring his chest, he can also see how your thumb just goes smoothly against his cockhead and Vernon thinks he might go insane.

"Do you need to-" Vernon asks while trying to return the feeling, hand going to your clothed pussy, pressing against it and making you whimper.

"No, no, I am ok," You say, almost in a way to make Vernon hurry up, "You can just fuck me."

"Yeah yeah ok," Vernon says, and you can feel the way his dicks enters you while Vernon's tongue lick his lips.

Vernon fucks you slowly, body pressed against yours, one of his hands holding your head - almost pressing you against his, his lips never leaving your cheek. And it is almost excruciating - the way Vernon fucks you, so slowly and yet so fucking good.

You try to tell him in the way your hands hold his neck, the way you feel his shoulder blades under your hands, the way you want to touch the expanses of his back. 

It's good, and you could live like that - in Vernon's warm embrace. But you are feeling desperate enough so you just beg, "Vern, faster", and not a second late Vernon is fucking you harder. He picks himself up, knees on the bed, holding your legs on the side of his waist. And god he hits you so deep, you just need a little more.

"Fuck you are so hot," Vernon says almost there when he sees your hand toying with your clit.

"I am so close," You say to him and you can feel how his hands tighten against your thighs, how he picks up his pace, how he fucks you harder.

And then it washes over you, and it hits Vernon - because of the way he continues to fuck you after it, but then you can feel his body against yours, his mouth chasing yours, and you just laugh between kisses because yeah, Vernon is a lazy kisser, that just how he is, but goddamn you love it.

In that weekend Vernon makes a ritual of kissing you, he kisses you every time he can really, but he makes a point of stealing a kiss before the free practice - in his motorhome. He does it again before the race, he ends up in second place. He kisses you again when you jump at him saying that he is the best - and he wants to argue because he just ended in second place, but it's you so he just takes it.

When Vernon is showered, clean, and not sticky from champagne he sees you sleeping in his horrible motorhome bed, and he just can't let you - you guys have a flight to catch.

"Hey, come on let's go home, Seb is missing you," Vernon says trying to wake you up.