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sinofwriting · 1 year

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Private Professor - Max Verstappen

Words: 5,576 Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists. Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!

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At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.

It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other's arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.

At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.

Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.

It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.

Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.

“No girlfriend?” Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?” “Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing. “I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.

He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.

It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.

The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.

His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.

They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.

She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.” “Four?” “We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”

It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.

His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.

“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”

Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?

Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.

Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.

It was them wrapped up in each other's arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.

Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.

It also leads to their biggest fight in years.

“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!” “And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.” She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it's always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.” “Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.” “Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?” “You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they're both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”

“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?” He nods. “For our future kids?” “Yes.” “So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds. He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.” “Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that. “Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.” “I want to pay for any of the kids' interests. Like art, ballet or karting.” “No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses. “Unless,” he encourages. “If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.” “No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.” “Their first degree.” He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?” Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.” His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.” “First degree only.” She agrees.

It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?” She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.” “Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.” “Not anytime soon at least.” “I love you.” He murmurs. “I love you too.”

Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.

The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.

So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.

She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.

The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.

It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.

Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.

“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.

“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone. “No.” Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,” “No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.” “I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears. “You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.” “Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs. “I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.” “Thank you.” “Of course.”

When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.

Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.

“You’re drunk.” “You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him. “You’ve been crying.” “Yeah.” He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.” “Yeah.” He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?” “That bad.” She nods.

At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.

“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly. “You’re going to marry me.” She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”

It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.

“I know I proposed early.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.” “Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours. “Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.” “Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.” “Actually,” “Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?” She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it. “Well, what did it say? The email.” “Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.” He kisses her before she can say anything else.

“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide. “You know what that means right?” He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her. “I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.” Blue eyes widen. “And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”

Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.

It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.

“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.” His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread. “That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.” “How I want to?” “Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.” “I’m not going to be cruel.” “No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.” His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?” She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”

She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.

He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.

It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.

He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.

“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver's debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera. “Charles. Safe flight?” “Always. What do you have there?” “Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?” He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.

“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously. He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.” Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.” Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.

“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page. “The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says. “Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?” Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.

“Your engagement?” “Your what?” “Engaged?” “Impossible.” “Lies.”

The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.

“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it. He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.

When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.

“Is this real?” Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.” “You’re really engaged.” “Yes, Christian. I am.” The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?” “What?” “The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.” “No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption. The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.

“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice. “Yes.” “And I never believed you.” He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else's. “No.” Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.” “Thank you.” “But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?” Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”

They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.

Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“You alright?” She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.” Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.” “A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.

Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.

“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?” Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.” “It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max. “Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side. Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?” “Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him. Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.” “Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.” “Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles. “It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything. “Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” “It’s not.” She assures.

Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.

“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.” She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.” Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down. “Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it. She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.” A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.” Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.

It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.

“You told them you're a teacher.” “I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let's not make a big deal out of it.” “I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look. But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.” “So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?” Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”

@cixrosie @darleneslane @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @benstormy @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @boiohboii @topguncultleader

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #sins fics

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sainzproductions · 1 year

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𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 ⋆ 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

wherein the internet hates you for breaking poor charles's heart; so you move on to his best mate.

[charles leclerc x ex!socialite reader, carlos sainz x socialite!reader]

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 103,740 others

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SHOWBUZZF1 The Sainz family are pictured in what looks to be, a merry family get together with a surprise addition to their group, Y/n Y/l/n. The italian heiress appeared to be in cahoots with the Sainz clan, and even more so with Carlos Jr. It is unsure wether the pair are formally seeing eachother, as both parties declined to comment on the issue.

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matchavellichor · 1 year

Note

If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊

Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️

A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶

You Drew Stars

f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words

Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...

Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow

The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew.

He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.

“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?”

“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”

“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”

She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”

He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page.

She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.

After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.

“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”

“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”

“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”

He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”

“What can I say, I’m enticing.”

Overwhelmingly, he thought.

He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.

They fell into a simple sort of routine.

Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.

He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.

She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.

He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea.

She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.

It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.

Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room.

Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries?

They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.

He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together.

Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.

“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”

“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”

“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”

“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”

He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?”

Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”

He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”

“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”

“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”

“Both?”

She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”

“We’re friends? This is news to me.”

She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”

“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”

He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens.

“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.”

You’re good for me, he thought.

“Call it self-preservation.”

“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”

“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.

He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”

She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.

Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.

They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.

They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.

“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?”

He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting.

She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue.

His mouth felt terribly dry.

He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.

Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax.

He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with.

He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his.

“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.

“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.

She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?”

He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”

She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.”

He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.”

She grinned. “Shut up and do it.”

He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery.

“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began.

He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.

“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”

She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips.

She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”

He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.

“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.”

He swallowed hard. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”

She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.

Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.

He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.

He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.

Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.

Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.

She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it.

She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.

When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough.

He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.

After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.

Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.

Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.

He adored kissing her. Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.

He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel.

She was bliss personified.

Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease.

His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.

After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction.

He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either.

“Tired?”

She shook her head. “Just missed you.”

He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”

She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done.

Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?

He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.

He loved having her like this.

Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him.

She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.

“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable.

She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming.

He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time.

A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.

“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.

She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.

His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.”

“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”

He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed.

“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”

Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.

Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room.

His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.

He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing.

“Have you ever…?”

He shook his head, sheepish. “No.”

She nodded.

A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”

She shook her head. “Never.”

His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”

She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”

“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”

“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?”

“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.”

“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.”

It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”

She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.”

Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.”

“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”

He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”

“Have you?” She grinned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.”

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”

“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”

“I won’t hold that against you, either.”

She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his.

He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.

“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care.

If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure.

She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.

He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate.

She tensed. “You don’t have to—”

“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”

Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”

It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.

“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”

She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.

He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s.

“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.

He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.

“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”

She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.

Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.

“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”

He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.

He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.

His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”

She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”

He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts.

“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust.

She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop.

“Christ, you’re — fuck,” Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”

He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut, being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,”

Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.

“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”

His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.

She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”

He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.”

She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.

“You’ve only just noticed?”

It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him.

His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.

Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.

“Fucking took you two long enough.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy imagine

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notjustjavierpena · 3 months

Note

I dont know if its Father’s day where you are but Happy Father’s day to Hubby Javi!!

Father's Day (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: It's not but he sure appreciates you reminding me! In other words, I threw this drabble together just for you. Spot a little reveal in there!

Summary: Join Hubby as father's day comes to an end.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, pregnant reader, fluff, allusions to smut, Javier being called Daddy

Word count: 725

Father's Day

As the day is coming to an end and the weather starts cooling down outside, Javier drags his favorite garden chair into the center of the back porch so he has an overlook of the garden. He settles into the chair with a contented sigh, feeling full from the fantastic dinner you served half an hour ago, and in his hand, he twirls and rereads the card he received during his breakfast.

It’s a handmade card full of glitter and dollops of messy glue, each of his children contributing a drawing but also a joint message telling him that they love him. Lucas has drawn a picture of them all, complete with a depiction of the growing belly on you as you carry his twin girls, while Inés has drawn a heart with a stick-figure family inside it and one of her famous butterflies. Javier’s eyes had practically sparked at the realization that even Sebastian had added his mark with a few colorful lines and squiggles.

He looks up with a smile and observes Sebastian babbling in a kiddie pool that you’ve set up next to him. His one-year-old is splashing happily in a swimming diaper, trying to figure out how things seem to stay afloat despite his efforts to drag them under the water.

Javier’s two eldest children are playing tag on the lawn. They’re barefoot, speeding across the grass until their pant legs are covered in green stains and dirt but they look so happy as they take turns to chase each other.

Lucas pauses for a moment and decides to hide behind a bush when he sees Inés is distracted by a ladybug on one of the trees and seems to forget that she has to run from him. He pants with excitement and exhaustion at the same time, waiting patiently for her to start her search for him.

“Got you!” He shouts triumphantly when she runs past his hiding spot, jumping out and capturing his baby sister with a grin. She squeals with laughter as she tumbles to the ground, the sound echoing through the garden and settling in Javier’s chest, warm and comforting. She regains her composure, animatedly dusts herself off like she’s seen in cartoons, and then she’s off again and Lucas adapts his speed to match her. Lucas is so good at making her feel confident and seen, Javier thinks to himself, if only he knew that being an amazing big brother is paying off because you’ve looked at a dog for his birthday in August, a two-year-old beagle from the local shelter.

You step out onto the porch, immediately bending down to check the temperature of Sebastian’s water, and only when you’ve made sure it’s not too cold make your way to your husband. You lean down to kiss him, a hand on your pregnant belly as you do it, and Javier stretches his neck to meet your lips in a soft peck.

In your free hand, you carry an already-opened Corona beer. You hold it out for him and he carefully sets the card down on the side table to take it from you.

“Thanks, baby, you spoil me,” he says gently. He sits back and takes a long sip in the scorching summer heat. Then he rests the bottle on his thigh, “Still don’t think I look like him… the guy in the commercials.”

“Yes, you do. Happy Father's Day," you say fondly and kiss him once more, this time a little longer and enough for him to want to wrap his arm around your waist.

"Thank you," he replies, placing a gentle hand on your belly instead as his eyes are filled with love for you. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

“Just wait until you realize what I have planned for later,” you tease with a knowing smile, “It’s going to be all about Daddy tonight. I’m showing you how much I appreciate everything you do for me and the kids.”

“Tell me more?” His interest is definitely piqued.

“Not in front of the baby. It’s not appropriate,” you tease.

“Come on.”

“Use your big brain,” you laugh softly, “I’m giving you a blowjob, you idiot.”

A grin spreads across his face and while still staring into your eyes, he shouts across the garden, “C’mon, mijos (my children), it’s time for bed.”

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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lilasamaaa · 5 months

Text

Wicked games | Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Genre | Fluff, some light angst.

Word count | 1.5K.

Warnings | Some sexual innuendos, reader playfully gaslighting Max.

Summary | You love Max, you really do. But there’s just something about your brother’s teammate… as a driver, of course.

Author's note | This piece was requested! Thanks to the lovely anon who came up with the idea, I had so much fun writing it! This is shorter than what I usually write, but I wanted to keep this one light and fun :)

"Babe?" Max's voice comes from the living room. "Are you ready to go?"

This weekend, it's the iconic Monaco Grand Prix, and you're delighted not to have to take a flight and endure jet lag from the other side of the world for once. Not that you're complaining about having the privilege to travel so much, but you understand what flight attendants mean when they say that flying makes you age prematurely. Before the bustling week begins and paralyzes the entire city, you, your brother, and Max had agreed to go eat lunch at your favorite place before the boys had to attend their pre-race press conference.

"I'm almost done," you shout back, placing bobby pins in your bun, when you hear the footsteps of your boyfriend approaching until they reach the door.

"We're..." Max starts before his gaze lands on you. "Oh, no, baby. There's no way you're wearing that."

You arch an eyebrow, observing your boyfriend in the large mirror of the bathroom.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" you ask, tilting your head.

"You're not really going to wear that, are you? Not while holding my hand?" Max replies, starring at your white tennis skirt and red Ferrari polo while you let out a hearty laugh.

"I might be your girlfriend, Max Verstappen, but I'm a Ferrari fan first and foremost. You knew this when you first asked me out."

"Of course I know, baby, but there's a difference between supporting Ferrari and... walking around with their colors on the street. With me."

"Are you playing territorial right now?" you ask, putting both hands on his chest, struggling to suppress your laughter.

"If you're so set on wearing red, why don't you try something more... Discreet? Like the red dress I brought you from Miami?"

"I'm wearing the polo, Max. It'll make Charles happy. And Carlos too," you add, winking at your boyfriend before walking towards the living room.

"Huh? What's the connection with Carlos?" Max asks, following you. "Is Carlos invited to the restaurant?"

Ever since Max and you started dating, several years ago, this has been your favorite game. Never gets old. You just love mentioning the Scuderia and its drivers. It's not that he hates the team, no, after all, as Sebastian once said, everyone's a Ferrari fan. But while Max understands your attachment to the team in relation with your brothers, there's one thing he finds less understandable... Your fascination with the other driver.

"You didn't tell me Carlos was coming," Max says again, still following around while you put on your jewelry.

"I didn't think it was important," you shrug, smirking.

Let it be clear : you don't feel anything for Carlos. No attraction whatsoever. But ever since the Spaniard joined the team and became a close friend of Charles, your relationship naturally developed to the point where today, you genuinely consider Carlos as a member of your family. You've even met his own, spent holidays with them, and you've crashed at Carlos' place multiple times before. Sometimes, when you need someone to talk to and Charles and Max are too biased, too closely involved with you to provide good insight, you call Carlos. The same way the driver always comes to you when he's got girls troubles. Yes, the two of you share a beautiful, tight bond. And knowing there's no ambiguity between the two of you (Max knows it too, deep down), you love driving your boyfriend crazy by mentioning Carlos.

"What's the matter, Max?" you ask, turning around, smiling at him.

"Look, I don't say anything when you sleep on his couch, or when you spend hours on the phone with his sisters. It doesn't even bother me when you check his results, and I surely didn't say anything when you celebrated his victory in Australia while my car was giving me hell," Max continues, gesturing with his hands. "But isn't this a bit much?"

"What is?"

"You said we were going out... As a family? Like, your brother, you and me?"

"Carlos is family," you reply, playing dumb.

"You..." Max starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, yeah. Whatever." your boyfriend says, throwing his hands in the air.

As Max and you arrive hand in hand in front of the restaurant where Charles and Carlos are waiting, you don't miss the look your brother gives you upon seeing you dressed in the red polo.

"You're fucking impossible," Charles mutters while kissing your cheek.

Once inside, as the four of you walk over to your table, you still see the opportunity to drive Max crazy by sitting across from Charles. Next to Carlos. Diagonally, your boyfriend watches you, eyebrows furrowed, a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

"Miami was so fun," you start, taking the menu.

"You and I must have a different definition of the word" Max says, rolling his eyes.

"Well, it's not so unpleasant to see someone else cross the finish line before you, for once," you reply teasingly.

"Like in Melbourne?" Max asks with an ironic smile.

"Like in Melbourne," you nod, winking at your boyfriend before turning your attention to the Spaniard. "You did so good, Carlos. I'll have you know that I was rooting for you from the start."

"Yeah," Charles interjects, rolling his eyes. "We know."

The table is engulfed in a heavy silence, and you enjoy yourself so much, your eyes sparkling mischievously.

"There's some tension in here, am I right?" Carlos asks after some time, looking at all three of you in turn.

"She's been bugging me about you all morning," Max replies, taking a sip of his coke. "She thinks it's funny."

"Why would you do that?" Carlos asks, looking at you, eyes wide. "You know he's going to push me off-track because of you, next time."

"You're better than them, that's all," you reply, eyes fixated on the menu in front of you. "They just can't admit it."

"Now, that's just nasty coming from my own sister," Charles says, laughing. "Take that back."

"Leave her to it," Max says to your brother, giving you a meaningful look. "She's decided to be bratty today. She knows it drives me crazy."

"We should all know less about each other," Carlos says before gesturing for the waiter to come over, while Charles tries to hide the red from his face with his menu.

The meal goes well, the false tensions easing over a succession of delicious dishes. But you're not done with your little game. Not yet. As the server clears your plates and refills your wine, you lean in towards Carlos.

"What dessert do you recommend? I'm in the mood for something sweet," you ask Carlos, fluttering your eyelashes innocently.

Across from you, your brother sighs, running a hand across his face, while Max stares at you in a way you know all too well. A look that tells you that once the two of you set foot back in your shared apartment, you're going to pay for your behavior. Big time. But for now, you don't care, leaning over Carlos' menu, your shoulders pressed together. The Spaniard is so innocent, so far from imagining that you're using him to lead your boyfriend exactly where you want him.

"Their crème brûlée is delicious," the driver replies mechanically, eyes still looming over the piece of paper.

"Crème brûlée it is, then," you reply, setting back in your chair. "I just love to make them crack," you finish, locking eyes with Max.

That's it. You're fucked. Max's usually clear eyes are dark with annoyance and desire. Feeling the heat in your lower belly, you lower your gaze, finding it hard to meet your boyfriend's eyes. You can't wait to get home, knowing that with the afternoon of interviews ahead of him, your boyfriend will have to suppress his desire until tonight, amplifying his frustration. After dessert, the four of you head to the cashier, where Max pays for everyone before leading you all outside.

Carlos gives you a quick hug before heading back to his car, promising to call you soon, knowing that the other two drivers will follow him in a few moments. Charles approaches you, and you throw yourself in his arms, pressing your nose against his neck.

"You've got to stop doing that," your brother mumbles playfully in your ear. "You're not the one who has to deal with his awful mood in the paddock afterward."

"He's just so easy to rile up," you say, as both of you let out a laugh.

Charles pinches your cheek before waving to Max and joining Carlos in his car. You find yourself facing Max and give him a radiant smile. Perfectly innocent.

"You're the worst," your boyfriend starts, crossing his arms against his chest.

"You just love me," you say, sticking out your tongue.

"I'm going to ruin you tonight," he concludes, pulling you towards him before kissing you passionately, his hands grazing your buttocks, barely covered by your short skirt. "Show you who's better than who."

"I can't wait," you mutter against his mouth, softly biting his lower lip before taking the keys from his car in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Can't wait," you repeat, watching your boyfriend walk away until he disappears into the backseat of Carlos' car.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #charles leclerc #leclerc!reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #lilasamaaa

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smoooothoperator · 3 months

Text

What Was I Made For?

06: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: time skip (three months), Sebastian Stan, race inchident, crash, hospital

a/n: Hiiii!!!How is your life going??? I have to thank my lovely @alltoomaples for being the beta reader of this chapter :3 thank you!! And I just have to warn that this is the start of the real deal!

Masterlist

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

3 months later. Abu-Dhabi GP.

“Are you sure it's okay if we're seen together?”

After that charity event, where I had an anxiety attack and Sebastian came to help me, the two of us somehow got closer. We exchanged numbers and he texted me every day asking me how I was doing, if I felt better or if I had an anxiety attack again. And that concern turned into something more as weeks passed by, ending in something like a situationship.

“Of course. They should mind their own business” I smiled. “You came to support me”

He smiled and nodded, pressing a light kiss on my head and grabbing his backpack, getting ready to leave the hotel room to go to the track.

Avoiding Charles in Maranello was easy, I only had to look at the schedule and go whenever he wasn't there or even being in the same building but making sure I didn't see him at all. During race weeks was harder, because our garages were next to each other and the team briefings were in the same room, but that didn't stop me from sitting on the other side of the table and ignoring him.

And now that the season was finally ending, I could finally breathe in peace knowing that the only time I'll see him after this race is going to be at the team dinner.

I got out of the hotel room with Sebastian behind me holding my hand, squeezing it softly as we walked towards the elevator. The last three months with him were amazing, he always supported me even if he had to be away filming, sending me gifts or calling me before a race.

“This is the last race of the season, right?” he asked. “Why don't we go somewhere to have a week alone, only the two of us? Maybe somewhere warm?”

“That sounds amazing” I smiled looking at him, pressing a kiss on his cheek and hugging his arm.

If someone ever told me that I could do something like this with the one and only Sebastian Stan, I would tell them that they had drugs on their drink. But here I am, waking up next to him some mornings and feeling his touch all over my body.

I knew there were rumors about us. Some people somehow connected dots and started saying that Sebastian and I were dating. And the comments are everything but good. I had haters all over my career, but since that night of September the hate started to get worse, making fans get creative and make comments about everything I did: be with someone older than me, going to fashion events, trying to start a clothing brand.

“You are tense” Sebastian said while we walked towards my car.

“I'm okay, it's just… I'm tired” I smiled weakly. “It's been a long season, all I need is to rest”

“Are you sure?” he sighed. “It's just… Lately you've been so tired, Dafne. And I worry about you”

“Don't worry, really” I smiled, squeezing his hand softly. “After this race I'm all yours, okay?”

He smiled softly and nodded, kissing my temple and getting in the Ferrari. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, preparing myself for what is about to come once I'm near the track. I swallowed thickly, feeling tears burning my eyes and the knot of my neck not letting me breathe.

I can do this, just one more day. I can handle this. Another day or hearing the crowd roaring, engineers talking to me asking me to push more and more, fake smiles to the photographers. Just one more day until I can disappear for a while and come back stronger to fight Charles.

I sighed, opening the door and sitting on the driver seat, looking at Sebastian and smiling weakly. This will be the first time he will come to a race, and even if we made clear to the other that what we had right now was everything we wanted, I was still nervous about what people would think and assume, how he would react to the hate.

“It will be okay, yeah?” he smiled looking at me, placing his hand on my knee and squeezing it softly. “The race will end before you know it and then you won't have to be around him for some months”

I smiled weakly and nodded, driving towards the track. My grip on the steering wheel is tight, with my mind working nonstop about the different scenarios of what will happen once my car appears near the track, with all those fans there waiting for the drivers. Will they be respectful? Will they scream profanities? Will they hate seeing Sebastian next to me? The hate will be towards me or towards him?

I clenched my jaw when I started to see all the people behind the barriers, taking pictures of the cars that drove in front of them, calling the names of the drivers. I recognized Lando's car in front of mine, and I could hear the fans calling him, excited to see him. But when I drove pass them, the turned their heads to look at the car behind me.

“God, not even taking pictures of this beauty?” Sebastian said, trying to cut the tension. “Come on, this car is amazing, when will be the next time they'll see a Ferrari Roma?”

“This is Abu Dhabi, Seb” I smiled weakly. “They have supercars in every corner…”

I looked at him smiling weakly. I know he tries to cheer me up, but it's not the first time they do this. I'm already used to being ignored.

“My family will be in the hospitality during the race, you want to be with them?” I asked him, changing the subject.

“Don't mind me, I love your family, they are great” he smiled. “But… I want to be in the garage. I-if that's okay with you, of course. I want to experience a race inside of the garage”

“Yeah of course” I smiled. “You'll have to stay in the back, but… Yeah, sure”

He smiled and nodded, biting his lip and looking at the front.

What people will if they see him in the garage? What will media say?

I swallow thickly and park the car, taking deep a deep breath before opening the door. Sebastian got out after me, looking all the time at me. I grabbed my backpack and locked the car, looking around.

“Go ahead” Sebastian smiled, nodding. “I'll be okay. It's just scanning the pass and then I have to walk to the big red building, right?”

“Yeah” I nodding, grabbing tightly the backpack. “I'll see you there”

I took a deep breath and walked away, wanting to go back and kiss his lips, but I knew people had their cameras ready to picture every move I made. So, instead of that, I walked alone with the biggest fake smile I could make, scanning my pass and walking through the paddock, letting the photographers take pictures of me.

Chin up, bitch smile, walk straight.

During most part of the day I felt nauseous. And my chest hurt.

“Probably your period will come soon” my sister Soleil said. “You want me to give you some vitamins?”

“Yeah, sure” I nodded, moving my shoulders in circles to warm up. “And give me a cold jacket before I go to the anthem”

The last few days I have been feeling weird, true. My breasts were more sensitive and I felt swollen.

“Thank God this is the last race if the season” I sighed.

Sebastian was out of my room with the rest of my family while Soleil helped me get ready for the race. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed, slipping the fireproof shirt inside the leggings.

“Yeah, probably it's the period” I sighed looking at my abdomen.

I walked out of the room with the suit hanging on my hips, grabbing the bottle of water and walking towards my family and Sebastian. I saw Charles' family near, and I just smiled weakly at them before hugging Sebastian.

“You ready?” he smiled, kissing the top of my head and rubbing my back.

“Yeah, I'm just a little nauseous” I smiled weakly. “Probably I shouldn't have eaten that yogurt from earlier…”

“I'm sure it's nothing” my mom smiled. “You always get nervous in the last race of the season, is normal”

I nodded and smiled weakly, hugging Sebastian tighter as he rubbed my back, comforting me.

I heard Charles walking out of his room and I tensed immediately. I can't avoid him always, we are in the same team, even if we hate it.

“I have to go make the team photos” I sighed, kissing Sebastian's jaw. “The race is in an hour, you can go to the garage now”

“Okay” he smiled kissing my forehead.

I smile looking at him walk away, biting my lip when I heard my sisters giggling. I rolled my eyes and grab the helmet Erica was holding for me.

“What would say the Dafne of a year ago?” she smirked.

“About what?” I laughed.

“Well, look at you and Sebastian” she smiled.

“Yeah, well” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “We are not dating”

“Yet” she smirked.

“We are too busy for that” I sighed.

I walked out of the hospitality and went towards the garage, smiling weakly when I saw Sebastian already with a headset hanging on his neck. I walked towards him and smiled.

“You'll be okay here?” I asked him.

“Of course I'll be” he smiled, holding my helmet while I zipped the suit. “Smile, okay?”

“Yeah” I sighed, smiling weakly and grabbing the helmet, following all the workers that were walking towards the stands where the picture will be taken.

Charles was already there, following me with his eyes. He was already sitting in the tyre of his car, with his helmet resting on his thigh. I ignored his eyes and sat on the tyre of my car, looking at the camera with my helmet on my thigh, wishing this would end fast so I could take a lap on my car to place it on the grid.

“Are you okay?”

I frown, turning my head slowly and looking at Charles standing next to me. I laughed loudly, standing up. Did he really ask that?

“As if you cared” I laughed.

“You look pale. If you get sick today it won't be good for the team” he frowned.

“Mind your own shit, Leclerc” I said. “What I do is none of your business”

I walked away fast before he could talk to me more, not wanting to interact with him at all. I got inside of my car and after the track was clear, I drive to the postion I'm starting the race.

But things do not always go how I planned. The moment I got out of the car he was already there, looking at me with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Fuck off” I groaned.

“I heard you throw up this morning, Morelli” he frowned. “Remember our rooms are next to the other”

“So? Am I not allowed to feel sick?” I scoffed.

“Today is an important race for the team, Dafne!” he exclaimed. “If we want to keep the second position of the championship we have to be in the podium. And if you are not feeling well, that won't happen”

“Come on, don't make me laugh” I frowned. “I drove multiple races having the period, with cramps making me want to get out of the fucking car and curl in my bed! And did I do it? No, right? So shut the fuck up, focus on your own race and leave me alone”

I groaned, hugging the helmet and starting to walk away. But again, he's not satisfied with making me mad, so he keeps opening his mouth.

“Why did you bring that dude?”

I frown, turning around on my heels and frowning.

“Oh, now we are talking about my private life?” I laughed.

“He's too old for you” he frowned.

“Oh my God, shut up!” I exclaimed, walking closer to him. “Do you have something else to say? At least I am with someone that has a brain and a job and doesn't need my money to be someone. Oh, and he is way better in bed than you, asshole”

I saw him clenching his jaw as well as his fist, and I knew that it hurt him. Groaning, I turned around and walked towards the garage to have one last meeting with my engineers to have everything ready before the race.

I walked towards Sebastian once the meeting was done and he welcomed me with that shy smile he always has. He was on my side of the garage, opening his arms slowly as I walked closer to him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, wrapping his arms around my waist while I hugged his neck, playing with the baby hairs of his nape.

“I am” I sighed. “And you?”

“I’m excited to see my girl being an absolute badass out there” he smiled, making me freeze after I heard those words.

“Your girl?” I whisper. “S-Seb…”

“I know” he sighed, pressing his lips on my forehead. “We’ll talk after this, okay? Come back to me with the big trophy”

“I will” I smiled, playing with the hair of his nape and standing on my tip toes to press a fast kiss on his lips. “I have to go”

“Yeah” he smiled. “You’ll do amazing”

He unwrapped his arms from my waist, pressing another soft kiss on my lips before I walked away, with Soleil joining me on the grid.

“And that big smile?” she teased me, handing me the cold jacket and helping me put it.

“Well, Sebastian called me his girl” I chuckled softly. “I think tonight we are going to talk about… Well, us”

“Finally! Arthur owes me money!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

“What? Did you make a bet with him? Why?” I frowned, confused, but somehow that smile didn’t disappear from my lips.

“Because it was obvious you two would end up together” she said. “He said it was going to be during the winter break, but I just said that it was going to be for sure tonight after the race”

“Idiots” I laughed, shaking my head.

The national anthem played, and I took my position alongside the other drivers. My mind was a spiral of thoughts and emotions. The weight of the season, the pressure of the race, and the looming conversation with Sebastian were all battling for dominance in my head. But most of all, I felt an inexplicable sense of unease in my body.

As the anthem concluded, my dizziness started creeping into my body. I blinked hard, trying to focus on the task ahead. Just one more race and I will rest.

The cars roared to life, and the anticipation in the air was electric. I strapped myself into my seat, hands gripping the wheel. Sebastian's words echoed in my mind, giving me a strange mix of comfort and determination. I glanced towards the garage, knowing he would be there, biting his lip like he always does when he’s nervous about something.

The race started, and I pushed all doubts aside. My car flew down the track, driving through the early chaos of the race with precision. But as the laps progressed, the dizziness got worse. Each turn required more concentration, each acceleration felt more hard.

On the 44th lap, I found Esteban Ocon in front of me. He had to let me pass because he had the blue flag. But he was fighting me, defending like he was defending his position.

“What the hell is he doing?” I groaned. “He has to let me pass! Fucking idiot!”

“Stay calm, Dafne. We sent the report to the stewards” my engineer said.

Some seconds after he seemed to understand that he couldn't fight, maybe he even received a penalty, so I just drove next to him, showing him my middle finger as I overtook him.

But then it happened.

He didn't give me enough space, making his front wing clip my rear tire, sending my car spinning out of control. I struggled to regain control, but the dizziness made it nearly impossible. The world around me tilted and swayed, the track blurring as I fought with the steering wheel.

I hit the barriers hard, the impact shaking my entire body. Pain exploded in my head, and the last things I remembered were the deafening sound of crunching metal, the voices of my engineer and Fred in my ears and the crowd screaming terrified before everything went black.

The sound of the beeping of a machine next to me was the first thing I heard when I started to wake up. Then I held the weight of another hand holding mine. When I started to take deep breaths, the smell of hospital and Sebastian's perfume filled my lungs, making me open my eyes and search for him with my eyes.

“S-Seb” I croaked, feeling a wave of pain in my neck when I moved my head.

“You are awake” he said softly, relief flooding his voice.

“What…”

“You had a crash” he sighed, smiling weakly. “Ocon lost control of his car and crashed into you… You've been unconscious for some hours, Daf…”

“The race” I mumbled, nervous.

“There was a red flag” he explained, rubbing my hand softly. “Until they took your car out of if the barriers and they translated you to the helicopter”

“Who won? The championship…” I mumbled concerned. “We lost it…”

“Fuck the championship. You could have died, Dafne” he sighed.

I swallowed thickly, looking away and closing my eyes, the memories coming back in fragments, repeating in my mind over and over again. The race, the dizziness, the impact.

“My family?” I whispered, swallowing thickly.

“I sent them to the hotel” he sighed. “They have been here since you arrived and they needed to rest, Dafne. I'll call them later, okay?”

Some minutes later, after Sebastian pressed a button, a doctor entered the room with a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a reassuring smile, holding a file and pressing it against her chest.

"Miss Morelli, how are you feeling?" the doctor asked, checking the monitors.

“Like I got hit by a truck” I sighed, smiling weakly.

“It's totally understandable. You had a severe concussion and some minor injuries, but nothing too serious" he said. "However, there is something else we need to discuss. We ran some tests to make sure everything was okay after the crash”

“Okay… and? How did they come out?” I asked confused, nervously.

“You are pregnant” the woman said, opening her file and showing me what looked like an ultrasound. “Three months pregnant, to be more precise”

“W-what?” I mumbled.

"The baby seems to be doing fine despite the crash, but you'll need to take it easy for a while.”

Pregnant. No. No, it can't be. Sebastian and I always used protection. Always. And I am on the pill.

“It's imposible” I said, looking at Sebastian and then back at the doctors. “No, I'm sure it's a mistake. I can't be pregnant. I'm on the pill! We use protection!”

“There are many possibilities, Miss Morelli” the woman said. “The condom could break… I saw in your medical file that you've got prescripted some antibiotics three months ago because of a throat infection. The antibiotics can take down the effects of the pill…”

The woman kept talking and talking, Sebastian's grip in my hand was tighter. But my mind only could repeat that scene from three months ago.

“Please, leave me alone” I mumbled, making the woman stop talking.

She and the other doctor nodded and walked out, closing the door behind them.

Three months. My mind raced, trying to piece it together. The timing... it couldn't be. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt a mixture of emotions swirling inside me. Anger, disgust, fear, panic.

“Talk to me” I heard Sebastian whisper, squeezing my hand again. “Dafne, please say something”

“I don't know what to say” I whisper, feeling my throat closing with panic.

“We can do this together, okay?” he smiled weakly. “Maybe this wasn't how we wanted, but… God, Dafne, the past few months made me realize that I really like you”

“Sebastian…”

“I know it's not the perfect timing, but I promise I will take care of you two, hm? I can take a break from filming, we can… We can buy a house, what do you think? So our baby can grow up happy. Yeah, we can do that. We will live together, hm?”

“Sebastian”

He's going to hate me.

“And I know you might not like it, but you can't race…”

Oh, that was what broke me.

“It's not yours!” I exclaimed.

“What?” he mumbled, the smile on his lips disappearing slowly.

“This baby” I whisper. “It's not yours. It's Charles'”

Sebastian's grip on my hand tightened slightly, but he didn't say anything immediately. I could see the hurt flicker across his face, masked by a veil of confusion.

“That fucking idiot” I spat, feeling the anger burning in my veins, getting rid of his grip in my hand. “Of all people it had to be him! Why?!”

“Dafne, calm down…” I heard Sebastian say.

“Calm down? Calm down?!” I exclaimed.

“We'll do this together, okay?” he said, trying to reach my hand again. “I'll be next to you-”

“No” I said quickly. “Leave me alone”

“Dafne…”

“I said leave me alone!” I said louder. “Get out, please! Get out! I don't need your pitty, I don't need you!”

He clenched his jaw, looking at me with pain in his eyes. But that pain is nothing compared to the one I'm feeling right now.

“I need to be alone” I whispered, feeling a wave of panic.

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, hurt and confusion filling in his eyes. Finally, he nodded silently and stood up, his shoulders down, defeated. He paused at the door, casting one last worried glance at me before leaving the room.

Alone in the hospital bed, the anger that had fueled my outburst began to disappear, leaving behind a terrible ache. I felt disgusted. Disgusted at the situation, at Charles, at myself for letting this happen. How could I have been so careless? How could I have let him go this far?

The tears that I had been holding back finally spilled over, tracing silent paths down my cheeks. I was scared of what this pregnancy meant for my career, for my relationship with Sebastian, for everything I had worked so hard to achieve.

I was so lost. I will lose my career. My family will be disappointed. The team, the media will hate me. Sebastian probably hates me, I'm not carrying his child.

What am I going to do?

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots

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unsolvedjarin · 1 year

Note

Can we have more mentor!Seb x Ferrari driver!reader? Maybe she wins in Monza the same season as the last fic? 👀

note: sorry it took me so long to get to this request, life has been KILLING me lately. this one is pretty short but hopefully you enjoy!

FOCUS.

part one here but can be read without <3

pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (mick schumacher x ferrari driver! reader AT THE END)

summary: monza was never an easy race, and that certainly wasnt changing anytime soon. but maybe some luck is on your side this year— and a supportive mentor.

content warning: none besides my verb tenses being all over the place

Max had gotten pole. So not good for you.

You lost P2 as well to Lewis by two-tenths of a second, but P3 was fine, P3 was good. Hopefully good enough for today. It was finally Sunday, and you couldn’t be more excited— it was finally Monza.

“Well the goal is to win,” you say, although it comes out muffled with food in your mouth. Sebastian had invited you to paddock brunch on race day, and you were not one to turn down free food.

Swallowing, you add, “I mean obviously the goal is to win. We’re in Monza, that’s every Ferrari driver's goal.”

The Aston Martin driver had been listening intently to your complaints about Ferrari’s performance recently, and from what he’s hearing, it’s not looking good. Not only was the car lacking in pace, the team itself had bad strategies left and right. While you had gotten a podium back in Spa, it was starting to look like it'd be the last podium for Ferrari for a while.

Charles had DNF’ed last race, and you ended up P9. Not a great result, but it still kept you third in the Construction Championship. This race, however, was too special to have a mediocre result.

It was the home of the Tifosi; the people, the cheers, the chants, it was all for Ferrari— all for you. You couldn’t lose in Monza.

“So you think you’ll win later then?” Sebastian asks, taking a bite of his own food.

“Well I don’t don’t think I’ll win, so there’s that.”

“What a strange type of confidence.”

“Thanks, I try.”

Sebastian laughs, a genuine one that makes you smile as well. You’d been spending more time with him since learning about his retirement at the end of the season, which says a lot when you were already always together. He didn’t mind though, he loved spending time with you above all the other people on the grid– well, except for Mick. He tagged along sometimes when he could. You liked having him around too.

“If it amounts to anything, I think you can win it.”

He always says that. ‘If it amounts to anything’ or ‘If it matters,’ as if everything he says wasn’t important to you when it was. “Thanks Seb, but save that optimism for yourself, you need it,” you tease.

You say it in a joking manner, but Seb knew there was a hint of seriousness to your words. Aston Martin hadn’t been performing well either, and if you considered Ferrari’s performance bad, then you could call theirs atrocious. You knew it wasn’t Seb’s fault, he had been trying to contribute to the efficiency of the car with his knowledge and he pushed it every race.

Nodding, he sighs, and you can sense the tiredness in his breath. 2 years of a slow car will do that to you. Before you could give him any comfort, however, a Ferrari employee calls out your name for you to get ready for the race.

“Good luck Schatzi, I believe in you,” Seb says, getting up from his seat. You get up and hug him tightly, smiling when he hugs you back just as tight.

“You too Sebby.”

“Do what I couldn’t,” you hear him whisper.

You don’t reply. You don’t tell him, ‘I’m sorry,’ because he already knows. He knows because you’ve told him it before many different times on many different races when he used to drive for Ferrari– but you’ll always remember Monza.

It was his dream, the most important thing he wanted out of joining Ferrari besides winning the championship with them. But he never got it. Every year he was there, something took the win out of his grasp. Engine failure, collision, slow pace, no grip, it didn’t matter what the reason was. He never got it.

You separate, both going to get ready. You’ll make him proud, you think to yourself.

The race was tight. Lewis was giving you a good fight, always just less than a second away, but conveniently farther whenever you were in a DRS zone which meant you couldn’t overtake him. Thankfully, he slipped up during a straight, and gave you enough slipstream and space to pass him.

Then it was just you and Max. He was 10 seconds away, and you were so sure it was over. But then he pitted a little too long, giving you enough time to take his position.

And then you were leading.

You were leading in a Ferrari in Monza.

Holy fucking shit.

Just one more lap, one more and you could see it– you could see the end.

“...Y/N L/N SEES THE CHECKERED FLAG, AND COMES TO WIN THE ITALIAN GRAND PRIX! FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2019, FERRARI WINS IN THEIR HOME RACE!”

You couldn’t believe it.

You won. You won in Monza. In a Ferrari.

You did it.

If the screams of the fans were loud in Spa, the cheers of the emotional Tifosi were deafening here. Exiting your car, still shellshocked, you’re immediately approached by Max, who gave you a quick hug in congratulations.

Slightly snapping out of your buzzed state, you run towards your crew who was on the other side of the barrier, practically jumping into their arms. They couldn’t believe it either. When you finally removed your helmet, the muffled sounds of everything else suddenly became clear, and somehow the already thundering roars of the crowd had gotten louder.

Despite all that commotion, all that chaos and celebration, there was only one man you were looking for. You heard he had DNF’ed, which meant he would be in his garage, but you didn’t care. You were going to look for him before you got on that damn podium.

While Max and Lewis went to the cooldown room, you got ready to sneak out and go to the Aston Martin garage, when a hand grabs yours and spins you around to face them. It takes you a second to realize what was happening, but when you did– “SEBASTIAN!”

He enveloped you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You could hear his proud laughs, and you started laughing as well. You had done it.

“I ca-”

“I-”

You both start at the same time, making you both laugh even harder. You gesture for him to start first, and he does. “I can’t believe it. You actually fucking did it,” he says, the joy evident in his cussing.

He walks with you back towards the Podium, an arm around your shoulder looking proud. When you get to the side stage you pause in protest, but he reads your mind before you can say anything. “Go, we’ll talk later.” He gives you a little nudge, and off to the platform you go.

You asked Charles once, and he told you that when you get up there on the platform, everything goes quiet. You would see the crowd, the fans clad in red, and you would feel the love, but you wouldn’t hear it– as if all their cheers mixed together into a large vast silence. One thing would come into focus, and when you see what you’ve focused on, it’ll all make sense. For him, it was a man wearing a shirt with the number 17 on it. In the large mobs, it was the one thing his eyes had focused on.

For you, however, it wasn’t in the crowd. It wasn’t in the endless support of the Tifosi, nor the trophy given to you. No, it was in the man you could see in your peripheral vision, standing on the side, clapping proudly and looking at you as if no one else was on the podium.

Sebastian. It was him. Your mentor, your father figure, your friend. You finally understood what Charles was always rambling about. That loving feeling— not one you feel with a romantic partner, but the one that buries itself deep into your soul and grows over time, unseen and unnoticed, but when you finally focus on it, everything makes sense.

The second the podium festivities ended, you ran into Sebastian’s arms and hugged him tightly, not minding the cameras all around you. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he hugged you back, not letting you go.

Tomorrow— not today while the chaos of the fans was still ongoing— the media will spew rumors about you and the older driver, but you don’t care. Not when you’re finally happy here; content.

With content tears flowing freely down your face— along with some champagne from earlier— you finally disconnected from the hug, looking at Sebastian with a grin.

He looked confused, “What’s happening? Are you alright? Is everything okay?”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you reply, “It’s fine, everythings okay. I just— I can’t believe I did it. And with you watching. I couldn’t be happier.”

Sebastian takes a moment to intake what you said. He had never felt this way before. Never felt so utterly proud of someone. You had done what he never could, had finally achieved the Ferrari dream he had always wanted for himself. He could see himself in you now, the sheer joy of a win with a team he always wanted to win with. He couldn’t be more happy for you too.

“Sebastian?” you ask, worried about his silence. Maybe what you said was too much, too forward. But then he smiles softly at you, and you can see the tears welling in his eyes.

“You have no idea how proud I am of you.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “Oh thank god, I thought you were thinking of scowling in disgust or worse; not hearing what I said and making me repeat it.”

He laughs, a hearty one, and you laugh as well. The roar of the crowd was still loud, but amidst all the chaos, your eyes still only focused on one person.

“Dinner?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, let’s get dinner.”

a bit of bonus for my mick girls out there:

“Y/N!” you hear a voice shout from across the paddock. It catches your attention, and you turn your head to the Mercedes hospitality where the voice came from. Sebastian is beside you, an arm around your shoulder, accompanying you for a post-race dinner.

“Mick! What’s up?” you ask, disconnecting from Sebastian’s hold to walk towards him. He meets you in the middle, giving you a quick hug before smiling.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on your win. We should celebrate!” he says, pausing for a moment as if thinking how to word his next sentence. “I was thinking— just a random thought really— we could…go out to dinner to celebrate? I mean just throwing ideas out there, you don’t have to.”

He’s looking everywhere but at you at this point, his eyes pointed down at his shoes and you can see his hands fiddling in his pockets. You notice Toto Wolff watching from the hospitality, but you pay no attention to him, instead keeping your eyes on the man in front of you.

“I’m sorry Mick I would love to, but I’m actually going out to dinner with Seba—”

“He can come,” Sebastian butts in. “He can join us, I have no problem with it.”

“Oh, then great!” you exclaim, nudging Mick softly. He looks up at you with a slight red dusting on his cheeks you don’t notice. Oblivious, you intertwine your arm with his, walking with Seb tailing the both of you.

You ramble on about the race to him and don’t notice when he turns his head around to face Sebastian quickly, who was giving Mick two thumbs up with a cheeky grin. The younger driver blushes softly, before going back to facing you and listening to you talk.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, however, the older driver was already secretly thinking of an excuse to get the two of you alone at dinner.

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fanaticf1fan · 5 days

Text

I - Back To The Past

A/N Hello, this is my first fanfiction. please be welcome to give any criticism to help me make my fanfiction better. :)

Also, this fanfiction ay not follow IRL timelines and Rules for the Formula series franchise.

Emilia Schumacher was born to Michael and Corinna Schumacher February 2006, from the moment she was born Emilia had been the apple of her family’s eyes. From the moment she was born the restlessness and need for adventure she undoubtedly inherited from her father. From a young age she was constantly following her older brother Mick around and bonding with her older sister Gina.

She was fortunate to spend a lot of time with her father during his brief, temporary retirement from 2006-2010. Due to this she had stuck herself to her father like glue, expressing her constant want to be exactly like him in any way she could.from a very young age she was set to follow in his footsteps, just like her brother.

When her father returned to racing in 2010 with Mercedes, Emilia was overwhelmed by new people surrounding her, her family now expanding into a grid full of fun uncles and aunts.

When she started Karting at 5 years old, she noticed a few oddities around the track. The first was the lack of other girls there, to the point she seemed to be the only one on the track. The second was the constant whispers and glances that other people had sent her and her family's way. The constant, nagging whispers of her peers doubted that loomed over shoulder everywhere she turned. Her father had sat her down one day and explained that she shouldn't listen to them after he found her crying one day after a meet, huddled under the table tucked into a ball.

“Don't listen to them Shatz, you are my daughter, I will be forever proud of you for whatever you accomplish, don't let anyone make you think any differently.”

When she was 7 her life was thrown into chaos, her father as she knew him was no longer with her or her siblings, he was now just an empty corpse-like shape, lying in a hospital bed relying on machines for life. She spent her 8th Birthday in the hospital sitting around his bed with her family, it had been the first birthday that her father hadn't gently held her as she woke up. There were no birthday pancakes or special songs this year. Just the sound of beeps, the smell of disinfectant and the feel of tears streaming down her face.

A few weeks after her birthday, she started karting again, now under the direct guidance and mentoring of one of father’s close friends, Sebastian Vettel. The two had began getting close after her father rejoined formula 1 with mercedes. He became an older brother figure to her and became her crutch when her father got injured.

She had achieved multiple victories under the mentoring of Sebastian, yet every time she stood on that ever important top step, trophy in her arms, her heart yearned for the one man she had been missing for months. Sebastian of course tried to help heal that hole in her heart, taking over quite a bit of the responsibility over her and her brother while they both competed. Mick and her had formed an inseparable bond, leaning on one another for support.

Her father had been released from his prison coma in June 2014. She had expected her life to return to normal, however as she looked upon her father, she almost didn't recognise him. He was nothing like the person he was before, their relationship wasn't the same. This broke her heart so bad she decided to simply sink into the shadows of her childhood home.

She had risen through the ranks quickly, she was competing in levels above her age, spending most of her free time practising her skills to help her on the track. She won many races which angered many people but she didn't care. She was fueled with the memory of her father and what they used to be like, her biggest wish was to be just like him, and she was going to ensure she would get there.

By the time she had reached F4, she had gathered quite the ruckus in the media and on the circuit, she had multiple karting championships and wins and the number was only increasing, she had become a number one competitor for many of her fellow races. In 2021, after a well earned win in F4, she was approached by one of her father’s previous teammates, Nico Rosberg. He had kept in contact since the accident but the two hadn't spoken in a while.

After a few months, Nico became another mentor for the girl, working well with Sebastian to help the girl progress and keep her managed. While Sebastian had stayed as her primary mentor, Nico took the role of her manager, organising deals and sponsors to ensure the girl only raced with the best of the best with the goal of helping her reach her life goal.

In 2022, she entered F3, winning the championship before being almost snatched up by F2 team Prema Racing the next year. Her brother had graduated the team two years prior before going into endurance racing, dominating the field. She had become good friends with her F2 teammate Oliver Bearman. She had begun helping him any way she could, attempting to meteor him the way she had been mentored for the past years.

She was ready to make her dream her reality, and she was so close to the first step in the next stage.

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #george russell x reader #franco colapinto x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #oscar piastri x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #nico rosberg x reader #sebastian vettel x reader

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thefallennightmare · 7 months

Text

One Night-Valentine's Day special

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: lots of smut(mask play, spit play, bondage, anal, fingering, oral(m/f receiving), choking, unprotected sex), swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Nothing like a little Valentines Day smut for these two love birds!

Authors Note: Since this takes place during this universe, every thing that happened between Noah and Reader is still the same! Just a little pop in to see how they've been doing! Happy Valentines Day my lovelies! I hope you enjoy this little blurb!

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @malice-ov-mercy @thebadchic @niicoleleigh @lma1986 @dsireland86 @bellaboo967 @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @bngurngheart @laurpartyprogram @thisbicc @lyinginbetween @princessmarshmallowx @loeytuan98 @cncohshit @lacktoesandtoddlerants @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @jessiskyee @mrscevans @spicywhenspeaking @myownthoughts12 @br0kenangel23 @flowery-mess @lizzieseveride @illmakeyousaywow @burning-outx @xhedonistolisx @sinnamongirl @jilliemiw86 @shayzillaaaa @dream-machine-love

“Hi, who can I make this out to?” I smiled up at the person in front of me.

The young blonde smiled wide. “Uh, Jennifer.”

I picked up on her nerves but decided not to dwell on it like I’d done with the other 50 people before her. I opened the book Jennifer lay in front of me and wrote the same message I’d been writing all day.

Jennifer,

Thank you so much for the support.

Y/N.

“Thank you so much for coming out”, I said while sliding the book back to Jennifer.

Jennifer shook her head while clutching the book close to her chest. “No, thank you, Y/N! I absolutely loved One Night. So when you were promoting Always Pretending, I knew I would have another book to add to my TBR list. Needless to say, it’s my favorite book ever.”

My cheeks flushed. “Oh wow. Thank you so much for that, Jennifer. Truly, your praise means a lot.”

With a wave, I continued the same thing for the next long while, signing book after book for my fans. This was the last day in a two-week-long book tour across the United States and to say I was exhausted was an understatement. Not to mention, I had a four-hour flight back home to Los Angeles as soon as I left this bookshop. Jackie, my assistant, knew how badly I wanted to get back home so she booked the earliest flight she could.

It has been like this for the last year ever since I published One Night and now Always Pretending; both books on the bestseller list. While I was thankful for that, I wasn’t thankful for being away from home for so long.

Away from Noah.

Our schedules didn’t seem to match up as of late. While I was away on my book signing tour, he was home resting because a week after I got back home, Bad Omens would be leaving for a round of festivals overseas. Noah wanted me to join him since I hadn’t been in a long time. We’d been dating for almost two years now and I had to miss out on the last two tours because of my own career.

I had every intention of joining Noah now but needed to talk to Jackie about it first. She worked tirelessly to keep my schedule busy and jam-packed to promote my books but in my eyes, they didn't need any more promotion. I’d been working almost nonstop with these book tours, interviews, and not to mention trying to work on my third book.

I needed a fucking break.

I didn’t want it to seem to people that I was complaining because I was thankful for where I ended up. If you had told the girl two years ago who sat on that tour bus wondering if her first book would be good enough to become a best-selling author, she’d laugh in your face.

Noticing that we were dwindling to the last few people, I powered through with a plastered smile even though my eyes were drowning in exhaustion. My phone lay on the table next to me, screen down but kept buzzing against the wood. Jackie went to reach for it but I shot her a look in between signing books.

“I thought you’d want me to respond for you,” she tried to smile.

I bit my tongue, not wanting to snap at the older woman because she was simply doing her job but I knew who was texting me and didn’t want her to see those messages.

“It’s fine, thank you,” I muttered.

Finally, after a two-hour signing, I was finished and shook out the cramps in my right hand while letting out a deep breath. It was almost 2 in the afternoon and my flight left in 3 hours which meant I had to rush across town to make it in time.

“So, I was thinking,” Jackie started as I began to gather my things. “The local news channel would love to have you on their morning report tomorrow. I think it would be great publicity.”

I raised a brow. “You seemed to forget that I have a flight in three hours, Jackie.”

“I know,” she nodded. “But we can move some things around and-.”

For the first time since she took over as my assistant, I said the word that I never wanted to because I knew how important the publicity side of my career was.

“No.”

Jackie blinked. “What?”

I sighed while running a hand through my hair. “Look Jackie, while I appreciate everything you’ve done for me these past few months, I need a break. I’ve been going nonstop since One Night was published. I miss my life back in Los Angeles. I miss my quiet little apartment. I miss my boyfriend.”

Noah’s smile flashed in my mind and my heart yearned to be back with him. About three months ago, he moved in with me but with how busy both of us had been it felt as if we didn’t have time to actually revel in living together.

Not to mention, being away from him for two weeks made me horny as hell. Facetime sex paled in comparison to seeing and feeling the real thing.

“But-.”

I held up my hand to silence Jackie. “You deserve a break as well, Jackie. Take some time off, do things you love. When I’m ready to talk about book three, I’ll give you a call, alright?”

Reluctantly, she nodded while tucking a piece of graying hair behind her ear.

Bidding her goodbye, I threw my bag over my shoulder and then dragged my suitcase behind me to exit the bookstore only to immediately sit in the backseat of the black town car that had been waiting to take me to the airport. Once we were gliding along the road, I finally peered at my phone for the first time in a few hours.

Noah: Angel, I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Seeing how successful your book tour has been makes me smile. I can’t wait till you’re back home and we can celebrate. I love you so much.

Noah: So, are you going to sign a copy of Always Pretending for me? Since you know, I was your muse for it.

I rolled my eyes with a giggle before replying to Noah.

Me: Oh please, you know I’d sign a book for my biggest fan. Also, I love you too.

As I browsed through my phone, checking my social media and responding to emails, Noah texted back.

Noah: So, we have a problem. I can’t pick you up from the airport because I forgot I had my therapy appointment at six.

My heart sunk to the depths of my stomach. All day I’d been looking forward to seeing Noah’s face as I stepped through the doors of the airport. But I knew that he couldn’t miss therapy. It was more important than picking me up.

Me: It’s okay, love. I can order an uber. I should be back home by 8. Maybe we can have a late dinner together?

Noah: Already taken care of, angel.

With a yawn, I adjusted my glasses as I stepped through the gate doors of the airport, dragging my bags behind me. There was a delay in taking off at the last airport which meant I was now arriving in Los Angeles at 9 p.m rather than 7 p.m. I had to buy wifi on the plane so I could message Noah to let him know about the delay.

Thank the gods I changed out of my professional attire at the last airport and opted to wear my Bad Omens joggers and Noah’s yellow hoodie; his smell still lingering. With my phone in one hand, I was about to order an Uber when my feet skidded to a halt at the sight in front of me.

What a cheeky little…

Noah smirked as he held a bouquet of black daisies.

“Hi, angel,” he mused.

I reached for the flowers and brought them to my nose, inhaling their scent, and then peered up at Noah.

“I thought you couldn’t pick me up.”

Noah brushed away a loose strand of hair from my face. “I sort of lied. I had plans to pick you up then take you out to dinner for Valentine's day but when your flight got delayed, I had to switch things up.”

“So you’ve been waiting here for two hours?” I asked.

“Worth it.”

He shrugged before wrapping his fingers behind my neck to bring our lips together in a long overdue kiss. His tongue immediately molded against mine and I moaned into it, my hand sprawling over his chest. The material of his Hereditary sweater felt warm underneath my palm and I let myself fall into him when his hands grasped my hips.

“I missed you, Y/N,” Noah’s teeth grazed over my bottom lip.

“I missed you too, love.”

With his arm wrapped around my shoulder and other hand holding my bags, Noah led me out of the airport and towards his car parked in the parking lot. Once we were settled, he began the drive back home. I nestled into the passenger seat and let out a content sigh.

“Tired?” Noah questioned with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my thigh.

“No, surprisingly. I thought I would be but I’m just happy to be back home.”

He brought my hand to his lips to kiss along my knuckles. “I’m glad you’re back too, angel.”

For the rest of the drive home, I told him how the book tour went while he told me what he did the last few weeks. Since it was down time for Bad Omens, Noah spent it either in the gym with Ash or in the studio with the guys.

As we walked down the long hallway to our apartment, another yawn slipped through my lips and I nearly stumbled. Noah chuckled as he wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest.

“You should get some sleep, angel.”

I frowned while burying myself into his sweater. "I'm not tired."

His lips brushed along my forehead as we stopped in front of our door and he unlocked it. The darkness of our home escaped into the hallway as I stepped through the threshold and when I clicked on the lights, a gasp fell from my lips.

Matching the daisies bouquet I had clutched in my arms, our entire apartment was littered. Music played softly as I noticed the steaming dinner plated on our kitchen island, candles lit and spread throughout.

Turning on my heels, I gaped at Noah who leaned against the door with a smug smile.

“What is this?” I asked, doing my best not to cry.

“Happy Valentine's Day, angel. I had Jolly set this up for me while we were on our way home. He had to warm up the dinner I cooked earlier but I promise it’s still good,” he said.

My eyes widened. “Oh, I forgot it’s Valentine's day! I was so busy with everything I didn’t get you anything.”

Noah pushed himself off the door and immediately cupped my face so I could look up at him. The hood of his sweater was still pulled over his eyes, chocolate tendrils falling into his face.

“You know I don’t need anything. Just you, angel. But I wanted to do something special for you because you deserve it.”

I left a firm but quick kiss on his lips, muttering against them. “Thank you, Noah.”

He smiled while motioning behind me. “Come on, let's eat.”

“Fuck, Noah,” I moaned when his tongue licked up the patch of skin his teeth grazed.

My nails dragged down his bare chest, leaving red marks along his tattoos, as he continued to slam his cock into me, the couch beneath us scraping along the wood floors.

“So tight. I missed you,” he groaned into the crook of my neck as his hips stilled.

I knew he was close but also knew that he didn’t want it to end yet. What started as a nice romantic dinner turned into a heavy make out session on the couch. Neither of us could wait any longer and needed to be connected once again.

His fingers brushed along the folds of my pussy and I shook with the feeling as he slowly dragged his cock all the way out, only leaving the tip inside.

“Noah,” I whined while raising my hips. “Please.”

His teeth dragged along my nipples. “Please what?”

I raked my nails through his hair and yanked back causing Noah to let out a loud hiss. “Fuck, angel.”

“Stop teasing me and fuck me, Noah. Please.”

My screams echoed throughout the apartment when he buried his cock deep witin me again, his pace becoming ruthless. But our position on the couch wasn’t the greatest, I needed to be able to feel him even deeper. We couldn’t make it to the bedroom when we first started and there was no way I was going to stop this now.

Noah could tell I needed something different because with one strong arm, he lifted me from the couch to carry me over to the kitchen table. I squealed in delight as I writhed in his embrace.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he made me lean back.

He brushed back the sweat slicked hair from his forehead and licked his lips. “I need a taste of you.”

With a tight grip on my thighs, he spread my legs wide apart before he knelt between them. The warmth of his tongue sent shockwaves to my entire system as he lapped up the remnants of my previous orgasm he gave me on the couch and I arched off the table when he began sucking on my clit.

“Shit, Noah. I’m going to-.”

With two fingers spearing me wide open before pumping in fast succession and his mouth sucking on my sensitive nub, I let the shock of my orgasm tear through me with such a force that it nearly took my breath away.

“Such a good girl,” Noah mused while laying a kiss on the inside of my thigh. “I missed the way you taste.”

I only had a few minutes to breath before he was yanking me off the table to now stand on my feet. He patted my ass.

“Lean your hands against the window,” he nodded towards the patio door.

“What-?” I shuffled on my feet.

Noah’s lips attacked mine in a ravenous kiss and when he pulled away, he brushed my arousal off of his lips with his thumb. His bracelet and necklace glinted in the light from the lamppost outside.

“Be a good girl, Y/N, and do what I say,” his voice was as dark as his eyes.

Not wanting to disappoint, I quickly made my way over to the patio door that led out to our balcony and rested my psalm against the glass.Thankfully we shut off all but one of the lights so no one would be able to peer up into our apartment and see what we were doing.

"Keep your hands on the window," he demanded and then yanked my hips back to him so I was bent over.

Nodding furiously, I spread my hands against the window of the patio door when his cocked slipped inside of me again, his name falling off my lips in a prayer.

“That’s right, pray to your king,” Noah rasped as he bit down on my shoulder.

One tattooed arm wrapped around my stomach while the other tightened around my throat to bring my chest against his back, this new angle making my vision blurry. It felt so good, the burn, and Noah knew how bad I needed it to hurt.

He squeezed until I felt the air being ripped away from me, his cock slamming into me with no sign of stopping. He never held back and I never wanted him too. I needed it to hurt, needed it to burn, that I wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow.

When I felt the darkness creeping to the corners of my eyelids due to how tight he was gripping my throat, I let out a choked moan.

“Safe word?” he muttered into my ear before kissing the skin behind there.

Although his voice was soft and concerning, the way he fucked me was completley different.

I did my best to shake my head with his tight grip around my throat. “Keep. Going. So. Close.”

Noah eased his grip a bit so I could take a deep breath before he tightened it again. My orgasm was so close, I just needed a little something to have it wash over me. As my hand moved to my clit, Noah smacked my ass, the sound echoing through our apartment. Instead, his thumb pressed circles against my clit and that was exactly what I needed to let my orgasm finally release from the tightness of my body. I came with such vigor on Noah’s cock he groaned into my hairline.

“Such a good girl,” he praised while letting go of the vice grip around my throat.

Gulping for hair, I nodded. “Yes.”

Nails dug into the skin of my hips as Noah’s pace became even more frantic, him chasing his own release, and I was so far gone in my post orgasmic haze that I nearly didn’t hear the two words he said.

“Wh-what?” I stuttered.

Noah’s hips stilled for a beat before he let out a deep, guttural groan when he spilled his warm release into me.

“Marry me.”

Before my body could fall into a heap to the ground, Noah lifted me to sit me on the edge of our kitchen island. His large hand cupped my cheek so I had no choice but to gaze upon him. His pupils were blown wide due to our actions and his chest rose and fell as he did his best to catch his breath. His warm cum dripped down my legs onto the cold marble beneath me but I didn’t dare think about the mess. I only thought about those two words.

“What did you say?” I asked, still breathless.

“Marry me,” Noah said again without an ounce of hesitation.

Everything around us seemed to fall away, the eerie quiet of the apartment now ringing loudly in my ears. My heart beat loudly in my chest that I could feel it in my throat when I realized how sincere Noah was. This wasn’t a joke, he meant those words.

As if he thought I was doubting him, he ripped open our junk drawer in the kitchen to pull out a small velvet box and my breath caught in my throat.

“Fuck, you’re serious?” I choked out.

Noah smiled wickedly as he opened the box, the light above the kitchen sink catching the diamond almost instantly. The gold band was thin but the oval shape of the diamond almost sat perfectly against it.

“With you, Y/N. I’ve never been more serious about anything,” he said.

My throat burned in the best way. Never in this lifetime did I ever expect to have such a romantic Valentine's Day. Guys in my past never gave a shit, especially Jacob, so to have Noah go all out was something I wasn't used too but knowing he loved me so much made my heart swell.

I began to nod wildly. “Fuck yes!”

With a laugh, Noah collided our lips together in a fever kiss before reluctantly pulling away to slide the ring onto my finger.

“I didn’t mean to have a cliche proposal on Valentine's day. I planned on asking you if you came overseas but I couldn’t risk not asking you before,” Noah explained.

I wrapped my legs around his naked form to bring him closer to me and I hung my arms around his neck. We were still naked and the cool air from the open window brushed along our heated skin.

“I’m coming with you.”

Noah’s eyes lit up. “You are?”

“Yeah, I need a break and now that we’re engaged, I think we need to celebrate,” I waved the hand with the ring in front of his face playfully.

He grasped it to leave a kiss upon the ring. “Say no more, angel.”

My squeals bounced off the walls of our home as Noah carried me into our bedroom to start our engagement celebrations.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens reader

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leclerc-s · 6 months

Text

wait, there's another one of you?

series masterlist

isabellaperez posted new stories

this booger picked me up from the airport and then decided to mock me for buying food at the airport. little outfit change because it's not hoodie season in mexico. i ditched the booger and picked up my comfort food. no i will not be sharing, they're all mine.

lando norris someone want to explain to me who the guy in isabella's story is?

isabella perez my fucking brother? gael? dulce perez it's our brother.

charles leclerc wait, there's another one of you??

max verstappen how do you people not know this?

mae jones i didn't know...

daphne jones i did know, nice kid. i don't know how he's related to isabella.

sebastian vettel he used to come to races all the time, and then their dad died and he stopped coming.

dulce perez we all bonded with dad over f1. it was harder for gael because he was karting when dad passed. he gave up on the sport after that.

isabella perez haven't you heard, he's a big shot actor now. HE WORKED WITH THE SEBASTIAN STAN!!

penelope trevino your taste in men needs to be studied. under a microscope. isabella perez i don't really have a crush on sebastian stan. i have a crush on bucky barnes. it's very different. penelope trevino oh yeah, that makes so much sense.

max verstappen the worst thing is that he's a ferrari fan too 🙄

isabella perez HELL YEAH! FORZA FERRARI BABY!

charles leclerc LET'S GO!!

lewis hamilton i will never understand how checo's own blood aren't red bull fans.

dulce perez he was a ferrari academy driver with jules. it's practically in our blood to be tifosi. i just like to support my uncle, the other two are heathens.

isabella perez WE CAN SUPPORT UNCLE CHECO AND SUPPORT FERRARI AT THE SAME TIME DULCE!

esteban ocon we have to meet this guy!

lance stroll when can we meet him? carlos sainz are we allowed to meet him? dulce perez never. my brother will not be tainted by you nerds.

rowan todd listen, i understand the boys, but seeing as we work together with marvel. good luck keeping me away from him.

rowan todd wait-

rowan todd in the sense that, we're going to become besties. work besties if you will.

lance stroll pierre just let out a sigh of relief.

pierre gasly do you know how to shut the fuck up? if so, please do so. lance stroll why would i when you're so easy to tease?

max verstappen you have to bring him to a race soon. it's only fair! i will turn him into a red bull fan.

isabella perez listen, uncle checo driving for red bull is temporary, however long that may last, but ferrari is forever. you just have to deal with this max, uncle checo does.

carlos sainz max is just surrounded by tifosi isn't he?

max verstappen oh shut up carlos.

carlos sainz is the little one still a huge charles fan?

daniel ricciardo he called my move to mclaren the worst mistake of my life. daniel ricciardo he's also a little shit. but we love him max verstappen NO! YOU LOVE HIM! i tolerate him at best.

fernando alonso when you say patito, you don't mean pato o'ward, do you?

isabella perez i do! they were best friends growing up!

dulce perez wow, you are dumb.

isabella perez WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN??

dulce perez ask gael. maybe he'll answer the question.

lando norris someone could be in love with her and she would never notice.

daniel ricciardo i can't wait for the day i get to witness that

daphne jones don't be mean. she's not dumb, just oblivious.

pierre gasly this is like that time that guy asked for her number and she gave him dulce's number.

arthur leclerc WHAT THE FUCK? WHEN WAS THIS?

max verstappen arthur right now, probably

charles leclerc can confirm that is what arthur sounded like.

max verstappen at least someone appreciates my comedic genius. natalia ruiz he's in love with you charles leclerc literally shut up?

isabella perez WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT? HE ASKED FOR DULCE'S NUMBER?

rowan todd HE ASKED FOR YOURS! HE CALLED YOU PRETTY GIRL AND EVERYTHING?

isabella perez WHAT THE FUCK? HOW DID I MISS THAT?!

daphne jones like i said, you're oblivious.

freya vettel at least put us all out of our misery and ask out cute prema guy

isabella perez i can't.

esteban ocon the fuck do you mean you can't?

lance stroll wait. don't fucking say it isabella

isabella perez i got back together with austin

daniel ricciardo WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ISABELLA?

fernando alonso OTRA VEZ? ISABELLA, NO PUEDES SEGUIR HACIENDO ESTO! (again? isabella, you can't keep doing this!)

isabella perez but he said things would be different this time!

dulce perez THAT'S WHAT HE FUCKING SAID LAST TIME YOU MORON!

gael perez dime que no es verdad isabella! (tell me it's not true isabella!)

isabella perez that depends, what are we talking about?

dulce perez cut the bullshit. why would you do this?

isabella perez HEY YOU KNOW WHY! I LOVE HIM!

gael perez i'm gonna die and my sister's still going to be dating that lunatic.

dulce perez at this rate i'm going to get back with arthur and she's still going to be with him.

isabella perez let's talk about dulce's problems instead!

gael perez old news, we all know she's still in love arthur but in denial about it.

isabella perez by the way, was patito ever anything more than your friend?

gael perez i have to go.

isabella perez CLEARLY I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH PROBLEMS HERE!

isabella perez dulce is a snitch who's still in love with her ex and my brother dated his best friend.

dulce perez HEY FUCK YOU! WHAT HAPPENS IN THE SIBLING GROUP CHAT STAYS THERE!

max verstappen no, tell us more. as the children say, spill the tea sis.

mae jones i forget you have a broken childhood.

charles leclerc tell us something we don't already know.

dulce perez literally fuck you guys. i don't have to sit here and take this.

dulce perez i have class now.

pierre gasly coward.

dulce perez PIERRE'S IN LOVE WITH ROWAN BUT IS AFRAID TO ADMIT IT! MAX IS ALSO IN LOVE WITH MAE! AND CHARLES IS LOVE WITH NATALIA AND WE ALL KNOW THEY'RE SLEEPING TOGETHER!

dulce perez call me a coward again gasly. i know all your secrets.

lance stroll she's sort of scary sometimes.

daniel ricciardo she's a middle child. of course she knows everything.

daphne jones i love her.

max verstappen i'm kinda scared of her now. what else does she know?

dulce perez i know everything verstappen. all of you confide in me because i'm the only 'normal' one here.

dulce perez AND I KNEW ABOUT DANIEL'S PROPOSAL BEFORE ANYONE ELSE SO SUCK IT FUCKERS! (except for seb, lewis, and nando. i love you guys.)

mae jones RICCIARDO! YOU TOLD ME I WAS THE FIRST TO KNOW!

daniel ricciardo would you look at the time. i have to go walk my kangaroo.

fernando alonso coward!

daniel ricciardo no shame about it!

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @suicidepanda07 @minmira95 @vroomvroom95 @scuderiadevils @lilsiz @ssararuffoni @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @cowboylikemets1989 @rmeddar123 @kaa212 @anxxiousaries

not taggable: @Mimolovescookies @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @Smnthnclj @melissayalene @nothanqks @ragioniera @anytimeanywherebitchblog @burberryfilms @lorenaskaspersen @My-fangirling-outlet

click here to be added to the honest series taglist

¡leclerc-s speaks! if i hadn’t mentioned this character before that’s because he was literally made up like last week. i also just love danny ramirez and i had to include him somehow. this entire series is just me putting together all my interests in one. also my love for pato, i love him so much. i have too many stories and don't have time to update them all so i just create more to ignore the bigger issue.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

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honey-crypt · 3 months

Note

can you do some headcanon drabbles thingies with a farmer that has BPD? Bachelors please

a/n: yippee i get to write about bpd!!! fun fact but i was diagnosed with it for about two years (it ended up being a misdiagnosis) and i did a ted talk (like a legit one lol) about it and the criminalization/demonization of personality and other "undesirable" disorders :3 thx for this request and enjoy!

warning: discussion of bpd splitting, mental health crisis, and self-harm

★ sdv bachelors with bpd!farmer ★

alex

★ seeing you split for the first time is the catalyst for him to address his own issues, such as dealing with his father's abuse; to an extent, he can see himself in you, longing for approval and love from others, only to fall apart when others don't provide that

★ a very good listener, he opens his ears and mind to you to talk about what's on your mind and you do the same for him; it's very helpful and therapeutic for the both of you

★ does his best to keep you away from george, he worries that his grandfather's behavior would trigger an episode in you but he couldn't keep you away from him forever; it does cause an episode but with evelyn's help, alex manages to get george on his best behavior around you

elliott

★ often writes you letters of reassurance and love for you to read whenever you're having an episode, it's his way of supporting you through your hard times

★ he attends workshops to learn methods to assist you with bpd episodes and symptoms after harvey recommended it to him when he confided in him about his concern for your wellbeing

★ adds a small piece of candy, such as a starburst or skittle, in your pill box so you have a little reward/pick-me-up when you take your medication

harvey

★ out of all the bachelors, he's the best equipped to support you during your episodes (he did a psych rotation during his residency) but he tries his best not to go doctor mode on you

★ covers your farmhouse with sticky notes that feature medication reminders, words of affirmation, and so on; you save each and every one of them in a little scrapbook that you look back on for reassurance

★ harvey makes you feel safe, you're truly able to trust him and confide in him; you both make it work and even though others are critical of your relationship, either of you really give a damn because you love one another

sam

★ he's familiar with mental health conditions because of his father's ptsd and in the beginning of your romantic relationship, he kinda isolates himself from you when you're splitting because he genuinely doesn't know how to help

★ but thankfully, he learns how to support you with harvey's education on bpd, such as grounding you with music or encouraging you to socialize with others

★ he enjoys writing and playing you songs as a means of grounding, you're his inspiration and he wants to brighten your world with the power of music

sebastian

★ he goes into research mode after you inform him that you have bpd, he knows that personality disorders are heavily stigmatized and he doesn't want you to feel like he thinks you're a bad person for having bpd

★ does dbt (dialectical behavioral therapy) homework with you when you come home from group (group therapy); it helps him just as much as it helps you, he learns a lot of coping techniques that he utilizes when he has to deal with hardships or shitty people like demetrius

★ gets you an enamel pin for every month you remain clear from self-harm, you have an ita bag that you secure every pin on and it's one of your most treasured possessions

shane

★ a match made in hell... JK JK you two have the potential to bring out the best or worst in one another, depending on your relationship and whether or not you both are in therapy

★ if you're friends, you're able to support one another through bpd or depressive episodes, you both are different sides of a very similar coin and your empathy for one another transcends the boundaries of your typical friendship

★ but if you're dating or married?? i'm sorry but it's not gonna work out well unless both of you are consistent with your meds and therapy; you often get paranoid about your relationship with shane and it only intensifies during his 14 heart event where you and marnie think he relapsed with his drinking, causing you to split... luckily, it works out in the end but you still struggle with coping and trusting shane

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edoro · 9 months

Text

a few things i have noticed:

during the conversation he has with you after the whole deal with Araj Oblodra, Astarion says something along the lines of feeling sick at the idea of "getting on my back for breadcrumbs", and i feel like that's not the only time he uses the specific phrase of "getting on my back," although i could just be mixing up a slightly different dialogue tree from the same conversation

during that same conversation, he says that out of the thousands of people he's slept with, "most of them didn't even grant me temporary bliss"

we hear about/see two former conquests during the game, and both of them are men - one is poor Sebastian, and then the other is the unnamed 'darling boy' who he couldn't bear to bring back to Cazador

putting all of these things together, i believe that the text we're given heavily supports the idea that he primarily (not exclusively, but primarily) went after male victims, that he bottomed for them, and that he rarely orgasmed

and i would like to add my own idea, that the reason for this isn't necessarily that he prefers men but that, given that he was surviving on a starvation diet of rat blood and insects, he just flat out did not have enough blood to get or stay hard enough to penetrate someone

there are still plenty of fun things to do with a pussy that don't require an erection, of course, and i'm sure Astarion is well-practiced at all of them, but practically speaking it's probably a lot quicker, easier, and less likely to lead to potential awkwardness (or, worst of all, someone leaving) to tempt a man into fucking him than risk a woman being upset he can't finish the job - i imagine he dealt with plenty of pressure about what Real Sex was and what people expected from him in those moments

bottoming comes with a built-in excuse for not getting hard - sometimes you just don't! - that men who are used to fucking other men will probably not make too much of a fuss about

i have also noticed that during the two sex scenes with him i've gotten so far where you actually see part of the lead-up (haven't finished the game so i don't know if we only get those three total or if there's another one), he makes a point of playfully picking the player up or pushing the player down so that he's either holding and controlling their body OR he's on top of them

it's part of the flirtation but it's also a pretty clear pattern - he wants to be physically on top and in control!

so, all that being said, i think that Astarion deserves to get to pin Halsin down and stick his dick in a hot, living body for the first time in 200 years and go absolutely feral fucking him until Halsin's the one who comes out of it looking like he was mauled by a bear

#bg3 #halstarion #astarion's terrible horrible no good very shitty life #i just think he deserves to heal via ruining some bear hole

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years

Text

santa baby // charles leclerc

summary: it's christmas morning, his mother has the kids, and it's been too long since he and his wife got to enjoy a little bit of quality time, if you get what he's saying

pairing: charles leclerc x wife! reader

warnings: festive smut <3, a few jokes about how y/n's dad really didn't like charles in the beginning, mentions of heaven in a pretty unholy context. charles wants another child which turns into mild breeding

authors note: the christmas collection is almost complete!! this is the last christmas based story, and to close out the series I have one that takes place in new york on new years!

the monaco morning was chilly, a light dusting of snow descending on monte carlo as charles leclerc and his wife lay tangled in bed, christmas tree still twinkling and full of light in the penthouse apartment's main room. they always slept like this, with charles' body draped over hers, his arms tightly clutching her around the midsection, legs tangled together.

they'd married young, just nineteen when they eloped in italy because charles was scared that y/n's father was going to kill him. but her father was a traditional man, who thought that his daughter was destined for more than charles, who came across as a playboy f2 driver at the time.

but they had known each other for years, high school sweethearts, if you will. they got married right before charles started his first season with sauber, and the monegasque boy had promised that he would always support and look after y/n. of course, the shit hit the fan once their respective families realized that they had eloped, but it would take a blind man not to see how madly in love the two young adults had been at the time.

had been, and still were.

“mhm, charles…” she whined, feeling the tip of her husbands warm nose at the back of her neck. she lifted the ferrari drivers hand from around her waist, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “good morning, mon amour.” she said softly, pressing back into the monegasque.

“merry christmas cherie.” charles smiled against her skin, eyes still closed as he pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck.

“I wonder if jolie is awake yet. I forgot how nice it was to wake up in a quiet house.”

the couple had always kept their private life just that: private. their rings weren’t flashy, simple bands that didn’t catch too much attention. and a few months after charles had signed to ferrari, y/n had told him that she was pregnant, something they had tried to hide to the best of their ability.

he had been shocked at first, but the glow in his eyes and grin on his face hadn’t ever gone away. they’d kept the pregnancy a secret as long as possible, but sebastian vettel had eventually figured it out, the same way that the german had figured out that the young lovers were married.

jolie helene leclerc was the apple of charles’ eye. from the moment that jolie was born, the infant had charles wrapped around her pudgy little fingers.

“jolie is fine, mon tresor. she’s with my mom and arthur.”

she laughed, sitting up in bed before looking down at her husband, tapping him gently on the nose. “arthur is why I’m worried. he might be twenty one but he’s still a child. just let me call your mom.” she insisted, getting out of the king sized bed and walking across the room to get her phone, the hemline of her green silk nightdress barely covering her ass.

“babe…” charles whined. “she’s fine, come on. when was the last time that we had the apartment to ourselves?”

charles had a point. the night before, the couple had opened a bottle of red wine and binged the new season of ‘only murders in the building’ before y/n had fallen asleep in the couch, curled up against her husbands side before charles had carried her her back to the bed.

she paused, turning back to her husband. charles rarely ever wore pajamas to bed, but for the holiday season he had humoured his wife with a silk set, the top unbuttoned halfway to show off his impressive muscles, the outline of his dick visible through the silk pants.

it was a sight that used to make her mouth water. not that she didn’t find her husband attractive anymore, it was just that she had other priorities. like raising jolie.

“I suppose you’re right.” her voice was sing-songy as she leaned against the dresser, one of the nightgown straps falling down her shoulder. “what do you suggest we do about it?”

charles grinned, hair messy and cheeks flushed as he got out of bed, meeting his wife in the middle of the room as he pulled her in for a kiss, his hands warm against her skin in the chilled room.

“I can think of a few ideas, ma cherie.” he grinned, slipping his hands up the back of her nightdress. “you’re beautiful.” he hummed, pressing kisses to her neck as she flushed pink under the half light, a smile on her face as she giggled.

charles never failed to sweep her off her feet.

she laughed as charles gripped her ass for support as she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist before he stumbled back towards the bed. they fell to the sheets in a tangle of limbs and giggles, her husband hovering over her as he peppered her exposed skin with kisses, palming her erect nipples through the silk.

“oh, charles.” she moaned lowly as charles drew back, reaching to undo the last few buttons on his silk shirt.

y/n wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning in close and pressing a few gentle kisses to her husbands chest, his rapidly hardening cock becoming increasingly more prominent through his trousers.

she could feel his muscles tensing and undulating underneath her lips as he breathed deeply, a sensation that only added to the want pooling between her legs.

charles sucked in a breath at the feeling of his wife’s lips against his abs. he would never get tired of calling y/n his beautiful wife. he could hardly contain himself, stomach rapidly rising and falling as she continued to kiss him, her fingertips dancing across his skin as she looked up at him, a bright smile on her face and lust in her eyes.

he knew she would never suck him off. it was a sensory thing, she hated the feeling of having any dick in her mouth, not just charles’. but charles was more than okay with that, as he would much rather be on his knees for her than have her on her knees for him.

charles slipped out of the undone shirt, gently pushing her back onto the bed and climbing on top of her, connecting his lips to hers in a fiery kiss as she slipped her hand down the front of his pants, cupping his erection in her delicate hand.

"mon amour," he rasped. "don't feel like you have to. this morning is all about you."

"but what if i want to?" her words came out in a whisper, eyes like oceans staring back at charles.

"you know that i won't stop you, mon amour." his breathing was heavy as y/n used both hands to push charles onto the bed, reversing their earlier position so that she straddled the ferrari driver.

she slid the silk pants down her husband's legs just enough so that she had access to his cock, running her fingers up and down the length.

she might not give blowjobs, but in charles' eyes, his wife did something even better with her hands, lips on his neck as she stroked his length, drawing a deep moan that bordered on a growl from teh back of charles' throat.

"baby..." he whined, his wife's hand warm and comforting as she pumped his dick in her hand, leaning over his body to press feather light kisses to his skin as charles gripped her thigh. "you're too good to me."

"i mean, you were on the nice list this year." she grinned, smiling against charles' chest as she pressed a kiss to his skin, quickening the pace at which she moved her hand up and down his shaft.

"not for much longer, ma cherie. not for too much longer at all." he cursed in french, bucking his hips into her hand as his eyes rolled back. "i wont last much longer like this, darling. I need to be inside you.”

“how do you want me?” she asked innocently, withdrawing the hand she had on charles’ cock and leaning down to kiss him softly, his hands cupping her ass.

“on your stomach, cherie. let me see your curves.”

every nerve ending in her body was on high alert as she laid on the plush mattress, resting the side of her face against the pillow as she moved all of her hair to one side , tingling with the sensation of anticipation, just waiting for charles to caress every inch of her body.

she could hear her husband fumbling with his pants in the background, giggling as she felt him run his hand up her leg. he slowly pushed her nightgown up, pressing kisses to her bare ass and up her lower spine, taking the silk fabric with him as he relished in how after all these years, he could still make y/n leclerc tremble underneath his touch.

“charles, don’t tease, baby.” she murmured, giving in fully to his touch as she bucked her ass back unit her husbands body. “you gave up the right to do that when we had a child.”

charles laughed, running his fingers along her slit as he readied himself behind her. “I’m here baby, don’t move a muscle and let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

he slid in slowly, y/n moaning softly underneath him as she fisted the flannel sheets. “oh, sweet jesus.” she muttered as charles began to slowly thrust into her, his cock reaching all the places that made her shiver.

“you feel like heaven, mon amour.” charles growled. “god, I love you so fucking much.”

“oh, charles!” her moan was so high pitched that it bordered in a whimper. “faster, please, charles.”

charles grinned to himself, picking up the pace as he leaned down to pepper her spine in delicate kisses, loving the way that her back arched under his touch, the curve of her spine as she pressed her hips back, trying to take as much of his cock as she could.

it was like heaven on earth.

“my sweet girl.” the monegasque hummed, the room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, and the moans of the angel underneath him, the sight of his cock sliding in and out of his wife enough to make his eyes roll back in his skull. “oh, you take my cock so well. almost like we were made for each other.”

“you’ve been using that line for five years, amour.” she giggled, a smile on her face before her lips parted in a moan, her arm reaching back so she could clasp her husbands hand in hers.

he grinned slyly “and it still works, doesn’t it? I managed to get a baby out of you.”

“yes, yes.” she moaned, clutching Charles’ hand tightly as she buried her face in the pillow, goose-down swallowing her moans.

charles paused, pressing his chest against her back, gently kissing her cheek as she brushed a few stray strands of sweaty hair away from her face. “y/n, jolie is three years old already. I think it’s time that we maybe…had another one?”

she smiled, turning her head so she could look at her husband. “and you’re asking me now?”

charles chuckled. “can I put another baby in you, mon amour? I want a family with you, a little sibling for jolie.”

as awkward as it was given their position, y/n kissed charles softly. “put another baby in me, lover boy.”

if anything, the sex got more intense after Charles’ confession, his hips and his dick moving at a relentless pace as he slammed in and out of her. and y/n loved every second of it, fingers digging into the sheets as her moans reached a crescendo.

“should I fill you up, darling? yeah, you want me to put another baby in you?” charles grunted, feeling his climax hurtle closer as her walls began to clench around him.

“god, yes charles! give me your cum, put a baby in me!”

they let go around the same time, reducing charles to a groaning, moaning mess as he released his grip on his wife’s hips, rolling their bodies gently over onto their sides so that they were spooning, out of breath and satisfied, charles’ cock still buried inside of her.

“I meant what I said, charles.” she said softly, plying with her husbands fingers. “I want another child. three sounds like a good number, doesn’t it?”

the driver smiled, kissing her cheek. “two little girls and a boy. our own little karting team.”

“in your dreams.” y/n snorted “jolie hasn’t even looked at the go kart in the garage.”

“all in good time, mon amour. all in good time. merry christmas, y/n”

“merry christmas, charles. now, we should get in the shower and get ready otherwise we aren’t making it to your mothers for brunch.”

Tags:

@magnummagnussen @daydreamingleclerc @libraryofloveletters @flannel-cures @sidcrosbyspuck @diorleclerc

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula one x reader #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #the christmas collection 2022 #Spotify

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sissyisawitch · 9 months

Text

Christmas at Home

Part 2 of I'll Be Home For Christmas (link)

Relationship: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Ten years later, MC has a home, a family, and a husband. What does a traditional Christmas look like for her now?

Word Count: ~6.4k

Warnings: Tooth rotting Christmas fluff 🎅🎄

Author's Note: Requested by @mochiglow . Plus I wanted to write one last Christmas story before the end of the year (yes, once again, I had to rush to get the story out in time). As always, I hope you'll enjoy it! And I wish you lots of love for the year ahead💕

The room was shrouded in the soft glow of dawn, and MC found herself caught in the liminal space between sleep and wakefulness. Tossing and turning, her mind danced on the edge of dreams and reality, a swirl of thoughts and anxieties tugging at her subconscious. The weight of the night seemed to lift when, in that vulnerable moment, she inhaled a familiar scent that wrapped around her like a comforting embrace—Sebastian’s scent.

MC's senses gradually anchored to the reassuring fragrance that enveloped her. With a sigh, she opened her eyes to be met with her husband's naked torso. She had been waking up to the same sight for ten years to the day, ever since that memorable Christmas when they had met by sheer happenstance, and ended up confessing their feelings for each other. After leaving Anne and Ominis's house after dinner, MC had gone back to sleep at Sebastian's house in Hogsmeade, and that time, they had slept together in the same bed. From that day on, the two lovebirds had never left each other's side. MC had immediately moved in with Sebastian, having nowhere else to go after leading a nomadic and adventurous life. Sebastian had supported her every step of the way, helping her to find a job and to buy more possessions than what was in her suitcase (because she did in fact travel light).

In short, Sebastian had been the most incredible boyfriend, the most loving and patient partner, as well as the most reliable and unconditional support.

Thank Merlin he had been there to help MC get used to her new life of routine, because it had not been easy every day. Still, she was grateful to have overcome all these trials and tribulations, and especially to have done so alongside Sebastian, because it had brought her to the present moment. For ten years, she had had the privilege of waking up surrounded by the strong arms of the man she cherished more than anything else in the world, and witnessing the marks of time embedding into him: how his beard was fuller than before, how the patch of hair on his chest had widened and darkened, how his shoulders had broadened. But if there was one thing that remained unchanged, it was how madly in love Sebastian was with MC, and how he never failed to prove it to her.

Drawing solace from the gentle rise and fall of his chest, MC shifted closer to him – if that was even possible – seeking even more contact with his warmth, which, as always, miraculously succeeded in making all her nervousness vanish.

As if attuned to her restlessness, Sebastian stirred awake and instinctively tightened his hold around her petite figure.

“You’re up early.” Sebastian said with his husky morning voice, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

“I didn't sleep very well.” MC admitted while bringing her hands up to rest on his chest.

He placed a delicate kiss to her forehead, before looking at her, his gaze tender and filled with a quiet understanding, “I know you. You're stressing about today because you want everything to be perfect.”

“That must be it, yes…” She replied absently, mindlessly tracing the freckles that adorned his collarbones.

MC was not sure how, but the whole family had decided that for the first time, the Christmas festivities would be held at MC and Sebastian's house, instead of at Anne and Ominis' in Feldcroft as in all the other years.

“You don't have to worry, you know. We're not asking you to make a big feast. Besides, whatever you prepare, I know it'll be brilliant.” Sebastian continued to try and reassure her, still flashing his radiant smile.

MC made no response. Instead, she preferred to nestle her head in the crook of his neck and place tender kisses along his skin, moving her lips as slowly as possible to fully appreciate the taste of him. Fortunately, Sebastian did not question why his wife was being particularly cuddly this morning. He simply tightened his grip on her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh through her satin nightdress, while his other hand moved down her thigh to trace invisible shapes and caress her skin.

“I love you, Sebastian.” She declared all too solemnly.

He chuckled at her confession, which came out of nowhere, but which he never tired of hearing, “I love you too, darling.”

After all these years together, Sebastian still marvelled at how the soft contours of their bodies moulded perfectly into one another, as if they had truly been made for each other down to the very last detail. Limbs entwined and hearts beating in unison, they both revelled in each other's quiet, yet soothing presence… That was until Sebastian could no longer resist his ardour.

With two fingers under her chin, he tilted MC's face until their eyes met. Without wasting a second, Sebastian claimed her plump lips, kissing her languorously, all the while taking his time, as if he were discovering her for the first time. The way he sucked and nibbled her lips with fervour made MC realise that he was hungry for more than just breakfast.

MC let out several keen moans, which fuelled Sebastian's passion. He could not stop running his hands over every inch of her body, his electric touch setting her skin on fire. Sebastian's next move would have been to roll on top of his wife to pin her to the mattress... if only he had not been stopped short by the creak of their bedroom door being opened, followed by the patter of little feet.

Sebastian let out a deep growl and fell back onto his side of the bed, while MC giggled at his reaction.

"Mummy! Daddy! Wake up, it's Christmas!" Their son, Theodore, exclaimed with uncontainable excitement, like a burst of energy dispelling the lingering tranquillity. Sebastian and MC, still wrapped in the warmth of each other, exchanged a fond smile.

Oblivious to the interrupted moment, the five-year-old clambered onto the bed with a gleeful grin, and squeezed himself between his parents, joining their intertwined embrace.

“I can't wait for Father Christmas to come! I told him I want a big dragon this year!” Their son's voice bubbled with the magic of the holiday.

MC exchanged a glance with Sebastian, amused by their son's earnest Christmas wish, "A dragon, huh?" She teased. "That's a pretty big request, Theo. Are you sure you have enough space for a dragon in your room?"

Theo’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated the logistics, "Well, maybe a baby dragon? They're smaller, right?"

Sebastian chuckled, "We'll see what Santa can do, buddy.”

“Can we send him a letter to ask him to come sooner?” Theo asked eagerly.

Sebastian ruffled his son's unruly chestnut hair – the same one as him, “Easy there, little elf. You know he only comes once the whole family is together. Otherwise, it wouldn't be fair on Aunt Anne and Uncle Ominis. They wanna see him too.”

The child pouted, understanding his father's answer, but clearly dissatisfied with it all the same.

MC took her child in her arms and stood up, "Come on, young man. Let's get out of bed, and eat breakfast first. Then we’ll get ready, and I promise you won’t see time go by."

The family descended the stairs into the living room, which was bathed in Christmas atmosphere, with the tremendous tree shining brightly, the stockings hanging on the mantelpiece, and the dining table adorned with festive decorations, ready to welcome guests for a feast.

Luckily for MC, Theo was a real glutton like his father, so it was not difficult to convince him to eat. Nevertheless, like his mother this time, he was a real chatterbox. While they were all eating, Theo could not stop talking about the potential presents he was going to get. Overwhelmed with excitement, he kept chattering away, often with his mouth full, and MC had to remind him several times that this was impolite.

After breakfast, the family retreated to their respective corners of the house to get dressed in their festive best for the special occasion. Sebastian, who had quickly put on his outfit, went to help his son put on his Christmas attire which consisted of a green tartan shirt, red trousers with braces and a matching bow tie.

Meanwhile, MC put on a little make-up and slipped on her black velvet dress which had a V-neckline bordered by lace that matched the one decorating the cuffs of its long sleeves. The bust was fitted at the waist, and the skirt was flowing but still close enough to the body to outline the graceful curves of MC's body.

Sebastian appeared suddenly, and hugged MC from behind, making her jump slightly, “You’re gorgeous as always, my love. You never fail to take my breath away.”

MC turned around to take a look at him, clad in black trousers and shirt, with only a forest green tie for a touch of colour. It was rather simple but it always seemed to do the trick to make MC weak in the knees. Especially when he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, showing off his strong forearms, with freckles scattered among the hair, and veins bulging out of his tanned skin.

She devoured him with her eyes, a smirk plastered on her lips, “Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself, you know.”

His hands started from between her shoulder blades, then travelled down her body, exploring the small of her back, the curves of her hips, until they landed on the soft pulp of her ass. He let out a throaty growl, “Merlin, I never get tired of this dress. I love the way it shows off your hips. Makes me wanna rip it right off to see the real deal underneath.”

Ashamed that he still managed to make her blush like a shy schoolgirl after so many years of marriage, MC pushed him away and turned her head to hide the scarlet tint in her cheekbones, “Keep your hands to yourself, Mister.”

“Oh, come on, you’re no fun. Let's just carry on with what we started earlier, while we can.” Sebastian whimpered as he tried to catch her.

Any protestations about having a lot on her plate and a meal to prepare, died on the tip of MC's tongue, as Sebastian snaked his hands around her waist, tracing his fingers down to her private parts. Even through her layers of clothing, his experienced touch was enough to ignite a passionate fire that warmed her core.

It would have been fun to keep going... if only they had not been interrupted by a sudden piercing scream coming from the living room.

Fear gripped both MC and Sebastian’s hearts as they raced downstairs, the staircase resounding with the loud thump of their hurried footsteps. The living room came into view, and their eyes immediately sought out their son, dreading that something had happened to him.

To their relief, he stood near the window, his face pressed against the glass, and his excitement turned the initial scream into joyful laughter, "Mummy, Daddy, look! It's snowing! It's really snowing!" He exclaimed, pointing at the delicate flakes dancing in the winter air.

Relief washed over MC and Sebastian when they saw that nothing serious had happened. However, their respite was short-lived, because the next moment, Theo was throwing a tantrum to be allowed to play outside.

Unable to resist his son's demands and desires, Sebastian, bundled up in a warm winter coat, led Theo out into the garden where a pristine blanket of snow awaited. Laughter echoed through the quiet air as father and son dove into the wintry playground, crafting a snowman with gleeful enthusiasm. The garden became a canvas for their snowy adventures, a scene of joyous bonding and shared laughter.

From the cozy warmth of the kitchen, MC observed the heartwarming spectacle unfolding outside. As she chopped vegetables and tended to the simmering pots, her gaze lingered on the snowy tableau framed by the window. The sight of Sebastian and Theo engaged in a spirited snowball fight filled her with gratitude. She marvelled at the twists of fate that had brought them here, realizing that, had they not moved in this house in Marunweem, this idyllic scene might have remained an unfulfilled wish.

MC and Sebastian's Hogsmeade cottage had rapidly become too cramped when ideas of marriage and children began to blossom in their minds. So, two Christmases later, Sebastian surprised MC with the house of her dreams in the hamlet of Marunweem. That evening, after showing her around the first floor with its many bedrooms that would accommodate possible guests or their future children, the vast living room with its welcoming fireplace, and the light-filled kitchen, Sebastian took MC out into the garden to admire the remarkable view over the lake of Marunweem. And when MC turned to thank her boyfriend, he was down on one knee, asking her to have him for the rest of his life, in the middle of the garden where they got married the following summer.

MC had just finished preparing Christmas dinner, a smile playing on her lips as she soaked in the warmth of the kitchen and the beauty of the snowy tableau outside, when an unexpected wave of dizziness swept over her, leaving her momentarily disoriented. The room seemed to sway, and she felt a sudden need to sit down. Lowering herself to the kitchen floor, she steadied her breath, attempting to shake off the unsettling sensation. In the midst of her momentary weakness, the world outside the window transformed into a blurred mosaic.

Sebastian, engaged in snowy merriment with Theo, glanced back toward the house. When he no longer saw MC at the window, a subtle dismay overcame him. Instinctively, he grabbed his son in his arms and rushed back inside, his heart pounding with worry.

Finding MC on the kitchen floor, Sebastian hurried to get their son out of the room, lest he too worry about his mother and start crying.

"Go take off your coat and shoes, and stay in the living room, little lad. I'll join you right after."

"Yes, Daddy."

Once Theo had gone, Sebastian knelt beside his wife, concern etched on his face, "Darling, what happened? Are you okay?"

With a reassuring smile, MC nodded, “I'm fine, just a dizzy spell. But it's gone now.”

Obviously, her words did not get through his thick skull, and failed to reassure him, because Sebastian was still visibly worried, “Come on, hold on to me. I'll take you to rest on the sofa.”

Before she could protest, Sebastian slipped one hand under her knees, and used the other to support her back as he lifted her off the ground and carried her bridal style. In order not to fall, MC had no choice but to lean fully against his chest (not that she was complaining, since she even took the opportunity to rest her head against his shoulder and get a whiff of his strong cologne).

Sebastian then tightened his embrace around her, making sure she was safe and secure in his arms. MC was by no means surprised by how overprotective he was with her. He had always acted that way with her, even when they were mere friends at Hogwarts, so she knew that it was not after so many years that he was going to start changing.

As promised, he carried her into the living room, where their son was settled at the coffee table while drawing, and deposited her on the plush sofa with the utmost delicacy, as if she were the most fragile and valuable treasure in the world, threatening to shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest breeze, “There you go. And I don't want you to move from here. You'll only be allowed to get up and sit at the table when dinner starts.”

“Seb, I'm not made of glass.” MC tried to argue.

“No, but you're tired. You didn't sleep well last night, you shouldn't have been cooking on your feet all morning.” He replied, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and genuine care. “You should have asked me to help you, I could have prepared the meal.”

An amused scoff escaped MC, “Sure.”

“What? I’m not that bad at cooking.” Sebastian took on a false air of offence.

MC only stared at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for him to face what they both knew to be the truth.

Sebastian sighed, before letting out a light chuckle, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m a bloody menace in the kitchen.”

MC joined in his laughter, when a knock resounded at the front door, signalling the arrival of their guests. MC, instinctively moving to rise and greet them, felt Sebastian's firm hand gently but decisively press on her shoulder, urging her to stay seated.

"What did I tell you? Don’t you even dare think about standing up." He sternly ordered her. Concern etched his features as he looked into her eyes, silently pleading her to prioritise her well-being.

Sebastian then rose to answer the door. Their friends, adorned in festive attire, entered with smiles that instantly brightened the room. MC, who was still seating in the living room, could hear greetings and laughter from afar. After giving them all a hug, Sebastian directed his gaze towards his wife, giving her a knowing look. MC nodded to let him know she understood, then watched him slip away discreetly upstairs, when she was startled by a bundle of vigour hurtling towards her.

"Aunt MC!" Anne and Ominis' daughter shouted. MC had not seen her since the first of September, when she and the rest of the family had accompanied the little girl to Hogwarts for her first year there. With two Slytherin parents, and Salazar Slytherin's blood in her veins, she had been sorted into the green house with no surprises.

“Estelle, Merlin's beard! You look stunning!” MC took the little girl in her arms and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her. “Give me a twirl, so I can see your beautiful dress.”

Estelle did as she was told, showing off her knee-length blue and white windowpane dress, which had a white Claudine collar and ruffles at the bottom of the skirt.

“My, my!” MC exclaimed while admiring her niece. “All the boys at Hogwarts must be pursuing you.”

“I've got a friend. His name is Henry… I think he's cute.” The girl admitted shyly.

“Promise to tell me everything later?” MC asked, extending her pinkie finger towards her.

Estelle nodded eagerly, holding out her own little finger to seal the promise.

With that done, MC turned to her son, who had yet to notice the presence of guests, so engrossed was he in his colouring, “Theo, have you seen who's arrived?”

“Auntie and Unkie!” The boy abruptly dropped his crayons and ran towards them at full speed.

“My favourite nephew!” Anne lifted him up and took him in her arms. “Say, you've grown up again! You'll soon be taller than me!”

As for Ominis, he approached the sofa to lean over his friend, “So, MC, are we not worthy enough for you to get up and say hello to us?”

“Healer Sebastian put me on sofa rest.” She joked to play down the situation. “I had a dizzy spell earlier, and you know what he's like: always worrying about nothing.”

Before Ominis could respond, Theo climbed onto his mother's lap, “Mummy! Mummy! Now that Auntie, and Unkie, and Estelle are here, is Father Christmas coming?”

“Oh well, I reckon he won't be long now.”

On cue, another knock resounded at the door.

“Maybe that's him!”

Her lady-of-the-house reflexes took hold of MC, who was on her feet in an instant to open the door. On the other side, white-haired Father Christmas was waiting on the porch, wearing his red coat and hat trimmed with white fur.

“Theo, look who's here!” MC summoned her son.

Only the young boy’s loud gasp was heard in the room, his face lighting up with delight at the unexpected arrival of Father Christmas himself, carrying a sack full of presents, and displaying a wide smile beneath the snowy white beard.

"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" Father Christmas – or rather Sebastian transfigured into an impressively convincing version of him – exclaimed heartily. "Are there any children who are on the nice list in this house?"

Theo, eyes wide with excitement, approached Father Christmas eagerly. "Me! Father Christmas, I've been really good this year! I even ate all my vegetables!" he declared proudly.

Sebastian chuckled with a deep, jolly voice, and handed him two enormous gifts, "That's excellent, Theo! Keep up the good work, my young friend."

Wide-eyed with wonder, Theo opened his presents in record time. Inside the first was a giant stuffed Common Welsh Green dragon, and inside the second was a small broom suitable for a five-year-old, with a note saying 'Since you can't fly on your dragon'.

The cuddly toy had been MC's idea, as dragons were something Theo talked about all year round, while the broomstick had been Sebastian's idea, as he hoped his son would follow in his footsteps and join his future house's Quidditch team once he got to Hogwarts. They all watched as the young boy was thrilled by his two gifts. He smiled and laughed, unable to contain his excitement. Theo's joy was contagious.

This encouraged Sebastian to continue to distribute gifts, "Estelle, sweetie! My elves have told me nothing but good things about you this year! I've heard that your first year at Hogwarts is going wonderfully well, and that you have a particular interest in Potions. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, Father Christmas." Estelle played along for her young cousin's sake, even though she knew perfectly well that it was her uncle underneath the red and white suit.

In turn, Estelle received a large gift containing a set of cauldrons of different metals and sizes, as well as two smaller packages containing numerous ingredients, and manuals containing various potion recipes. It was the perfect apprentice potioneer's kit.

"I still don't know where she got her love of potions from. Certainly not from me." Ominis mumbled under his breath, making Anne laugh.

Father Christmas continued the merry gift-giving for the other guests, taking his role to heart and revelling in the joyous atmosphere. But Sebastian being Sebastian, he could not resist a playful aside to his wife, who was watching the festive scene unfold, "I've heard from your husband you've been a naughty girl. You didn’t stay seated like he told you."

MC took great pleasure in playing along with him, "My husband doesn't know what he's talking about. He just worries too much."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at his wife through his little round Father Christmas glasses, "Now, that's not something a good girl would say about her husband, is it?"

"I'll make it up to him tonight. I promise I'll be a really good girl." She smirked, the hint of mischief in her eyes obvious.

Even through his thick white curly beard, MC could see his Adam's apple bobbing heavily. It took Sebastian a moment to get back into character, "Will you? Well, in that case, I think Father Christmas has a special gift for you too, my dear."

With a theatrical flourish, he presented her a beautifully wrapped box. Curiosity sparkled in MC's eyes as she accepted the gift. She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a snowflake, each branch encrusted with small diamonds which sparkled brightly in the festive lights.

"I thought it would be a fitting reminder of all the magical Christmas moments we've shared together over the years." Sebastian explained in a whisper.

Touched by the thoughtful gesture, MC smiled warmly at Sebastian, "Thank you, Father Christmas. It’s perfect.”

“There's another surprise underneath to go with it.”

MC realised that the box did indeed have a false bottom. She lifted it and was surprised to find a set of arctic blue lingerie, entirely see-through apart from a lace flake to cover the most intimate areas.

She quickly closed the box to avoid anyone seeing, and shook her head, although she could not wipe the big amused grin off her face, "You're incorrigible. Now go and change yourself back before your son notices you're not here."

“Yes, ma’am.”

After explaining that he had other families to visit, Father Christmas said goodbye to everyone, especially to young Theo, who was the happiest to see him. MC claimed that she was going to see him to the door, but in fact followed him outside.

MC closed the door behind her, and stepped out into the winter cold, “Your transfiguration was extremely impressive. You're getting better at it every year.”

“I'm glad you liked it.” Sebastian smiled.

She took a step towards him and rested her hands on his chest. It was bizarre that he was so much chubbier than usual. Even if she knew it was him, it did not feel like her husband, “I didn't like it as much as my present. Thank you very much, truly.”

“If you wanna thank me, you can wear your present tonight and keep your promise.” He winked at her.

MC stood on her tiptoes and planted a tender kiss on her husband's lips, still transfigured as Father Christmas. Even though she was used to feeling his usual beard against her skin when she kissed him daily, she was still tickled by his new thick, greying moustache. But that did not make the kiss unpleasant, on the contrary. Proof of this was that they continued kissing until they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat in the doorway.

“You're lucky it was me who saw you, and not Theo. He would have been traumatised. Anyway, I came to tell you to hurry back. If you take too long, Theo will suspect something, even if he's ecstatic about his dragon.” Estelle admonished them before returning to the living room as quickly as she had come.

Sebastian was rendered speechless for a moment, “…Did you also feel like it was Ominis talking?”

“Yup, this kid's really becoming too much like her father... but she's right though.” MC took out her wand and tapped Sebastian on the shoulder with the tip. In the blink of an eye, he was back to his normal appearance and attire. “You're more handsome this way. Come on, let's get back inside.”

No sooner had they returned to the living room than Theo ran to his father and wrapped his arms around his leg.

“Daddy! Have you seen Father Christmas? He was so nice!”

“Of course, he was.” Sebastian replied with amusement at how oblivious his son was. He had been so enthralled by Father Christmas and his presents, that he had not even noticed that his father had been absent for several long minutes.

“Honey.” MC called out to him, instantly drawing his attention. “I also have a gift for you.”

She handed him a carefully wrapped package, adorned with a ribbon that matched the holiday décor, to which was attached a label with 'For the man who makes every Christmas magical' beautifully handwritten on it.

His curiosity piqued, Sebastian eagerly unwrapped the present. Revealed within a long black Auror uniform robe. He already had plenty, so he could not really understand why his wife was gifting him with another one.

“I've upgraded it with Kneazle fur and Diricawl feathers so that it has multiple Protection Charms. It also enhances the power of your spells to increase the damage you inflict on your opponents. Normally, nothing can happen to you with this!” MC announced cheerfully.

Sebastian's eyes met hers, and in that shared gaze, he recognised the depth of the sentiment behind the thoughtful gift, “Someone's worrying about me.”

“Of course I worry about you! You’re the most competent Auror there is, so they put you on all the most dangerous cases, and it's going to be even worse now that you've been promoted to Head of the Auror Office.” MC grumbled, seeming somewhat offended by Sebastian's reaction to her gift.

He hurried to take her in his arms and place a kiss on the top of her head, which seemed to be sufficient to calm her down, “I’m only teasing you, love. I love it, and I'll wear it every time I go on a mission. It’s perfect, just like you.”

The festive glow lingered as MC, Sebastian, and the rest of the family continued to revel in the warmth of the holiday spirit. The exchange of gifts had created an atmosphere of shared joy, and as the afternoon unfolded, they transitioned to the dining table, where an array of delectable dishes prepared by MC awaited. Laughter and conversation intertwined with the clinking of glasses and the clatter of cutlery against plate.

As the clock ticked on, Anne, Ominis and Estelle, reluctant to bid farewell to the enchanting family gathering, did not leave until late in the night, well after the usual bedtime for little Theo, who was by no means tired. Fuelled by the excitement of the festivities, he gave his parents an unexpectedly difficult challenge about agreeing to go to bed.

“Alright, I've finally got him to sleep.” Sebastian announced triumphantly as he descended the stairs to the living room.

“How did you do it?” MC asked from the sofa where she was sitting, drinking pumpkin juice.

He laughed, “I told him that the quicker he fell asleep, the quicker he'd wake up and be able to fly on his broomstick.”

MC joined in his laughter, albeit ruefully. Her smile seemed forced because it did not reach her eyes, which were shifty and preferred to remain fixed on the glass in her hands.

"What's the matter, darling? You're acting different." Sebastian asked with genuine concern as he sat down beside her and placed a comforting hand on her knee.

MC jumped up from the sofa at the touch, as if his contact had burnt her, "I – uhm... I have another present for you. I'm kind of nervous to give it to you. That's why I wanted to wait until we were alone."

As she stood in front of Sebastian, she consequently took out her wand and pointed it at one of the cabinets in the living room to open one of the drawers and take out a small rectangular box – about the size of a paperback book – which she made float towards her. Once the object was in her hands, she stared at it hesitantly, then took a deep breath before shoving the package into Sebastian's hands, who was still sitting on the sofa.

"But I only got you one present." Sebastian says, inspecting the present wrapped in red wrapping paper and adorned with a thick, glittery gold ribbon.

"No, you gave me two. Just because they were in the same box doesn't mean it counts as one gift. So we're even." She tried as best she could to reassure him, despite her own nerves, which had been frayed for several days now. "Now, open it."

Sebastian untied the ribbon and removed the lid. Inside he found a pair of white woollen knitted bootees. Under his wife's apprehensive gaze, he froze in silence for a long moment, trying to make sense of this original gift.

"I knitted them myself.” MC said in a small voice to break the agonising silence.

“They're very well made, but… You know, I think Theo already doesn't fit into these anymore." Sebastian joked in an attempt to ease the awkwardness between them.

MC choked back a strained laugh, "That's probably because they're not for Theo."

"Who're they for, then?" He asked with an uncomprehending frown, holding the bootees in his hands.

MC did not say a word. She simply looked at him with a nervous smile, patiently waiting for the realisation to hit him. When it eventually did, it was like he had been struck by lightning. He, who had always been cool-headed and knew how to remain composed even in the worst circumstances – even more so now that he had all his years as an Auror behind him – was currently speechless, and his eyes widened to such an extent that MC feared they would burst out of their sockets.

"You're pregnant?" Sebastian questioned, bewildered.

MC only nodded in response, as she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the tears welling up. Ever since she had seen a Healer to confirm her suspicions, she had dreaded the moment when she would break the news in turn, letting all sorts of doubts go to her head.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, and she could see her husband looking at her with wide, amazed eyes, she could no longer fathom how she had ever doubted him. How could she have ever thought that he would be anything but supportive to her?

"You're pregnant." He repeated again with a beaming smile, but this time it was not a question. It was a statement to himself, while he was still trying to process the information that had knocked him for six by how unexpected it was.

It seemed to do the trick to snap him out of his daze, as he jumped to his feet, his exuberance evident in the way he pulled MC into his arms. He lifted her off the ground and swirled her around in the air, a whirlwind of happiness and love. MC giggled, caught up in the infectious joy radiating from him. Laughter echoed through the room as they shared a dance of sheer delight, celebrating the beautiful journey that lay ahead of them.

"Oh, MC! That's... I don’t even have the words to describe how fabulous this is!" He exclaimed excitedly as he put her down on the ground and rested a gentle hand on her stomach. "We're gonna have another little one of our own."

"We are." MC confirmed, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and giving it a little squeeze, as if to assure him that it was all real.

"So that's why you got dizzy this morning!" Sebastian's eyes lit up with pride at having put the pieces together. However, that did not last long, because his realisation erased any trace of eagerness and replaced it with worry that made his face fall. "Bloody hell, MC! You cooked all morning while being pregnant. You should’ve let me do it. I'm your husband, you can– no, you must rely on me. I promise I'll be more present from now on, so that you can rest more."

Without further ado, he gently forced MC to sit back down on the sofa with him, so that she would not be even more tired after such a long day. She had to take it easy now that she was carrying their child, the proof of their unconditional love.

Sebastian was committed to being as doting as he could, to pampering his wife even more than he already was. So when MC suddenly burst into tears for no apparent reason, it was only natural for Sebastian to panic and try to work out what was wrong.

"What is it? Did I say something wrong?" He asked worriedly, immediately grabbing her hands.

"No. No, you’re perfect as always... But I was so scared to tell you." She replied in between sobs. "We've been so busy since we had Theo that we've never discussed whether we wanted a second child, plus you've just been promoted so you're going to have a lot of work coming up... I just didn't think it was the right time. I was scared you wouldn't be pleased with the news.”

Still holding her hands, Sebastian brought them to his mouth to place sweet kisses to her knuckles, “MC, I'll have as many children as you're willing to give me, whatever the circumstances.”

“So you're happy?” She asked him in a trembling voice, her big doe eyes full of tears.

It broke Sebastian's heart to see her like this, but he knew he had to get used to it, because this was just the beginning of the hormonal mood swings, "Very much so. You couldn't make me happier for Christmas."

He lovingly kissed away the tears on her cheeks, until none trickled down any more, and MC flung herself at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling into his soft hair, and he gladly hugged her back, holding her (and his future child) close to him.

Their embrace conveyed the depth of their joy, and all the unshakable love that bound them together. In that magical moment, as their hearts beat in harmony with the joyous news, the room seemed to overflow with the warmth of their connection. The hug lingered, a silent celebration of the love that had brought them to this beautiful chapter in their lives, while Sebastian whispered sweet words in MC's ear.

"We're gonna be one big happy family." He murmured while caressing her hair soothingly.

"I know."

Feeling a surge of emotions that mere words could not capture, MC gently pulled away from the hug. Her eyes, filled with a profound love, locked onto Sebastian's chocolate ones. In those perfect eyes, the ones she never wanted to look away from, she saw the promise of many more beautiful memories and wonderful Christmases to come.

A simple 'I love you' was nowhere near enough to convey how unconditionally enamoured she was with him. Words seemed insufficient to express the depth of her feelings. Instead, she chose a language that transcended the limitations of speech. She leant in, closing the distance between them, and pressed a tender, lingering kiss upon his lips.

The kiss spoke volumes—of gratitude, of connection, and of a love that could overcome any ordeal. It was a tender yet fervent gesture, a silent proclamation of the emotions that resonated within their hearts. As they shared the soft, meaningful kiss, the room seemed to hold its breath, enveloping them in the timeless language of love.

Sebastian, understanding the unspoken sentiments, responded with a warmth that mirrored her profound affection, even though he was the first to break the kiss and choose this moment of vulnerability to lay bare his heart.

“I adore you, Mrs. Sallow. Truly and desperately. Thank you for always making the happiest man alive.”

MC could not help but dive back in to kiss the lips that, for ten years now and until her last breath, she called home.

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