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viennakarma · 7 months

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Everything I Wanted III.

LESTAPPEN x READER (PART 3/FINALE)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 10k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, open ending, HEA, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are also a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is a tiny bit angsty. Maybe I should've mentioned it before, but both Max and Charles are single in this story. I'm sorry if it feels rushed or if it has any mistakes, I just let my heart go with the flow!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You spend a few days in some happy daze, just shamelessly bashing in your Championship. Everyone knew because you were positively giddy during the last race week in Abu Dhabi, you were seen smiling more during that one week than you had been seen smiling in your three years of Formula 1.

Some of the drivers were even more amicable towards you and your closest friends were even teasing you all the time, calling you Champion so they could see you blush and giggle.

“Hey there, Champ,” Lewis would greet you.

“Buenos días, campeona,” Fernando would say and laugh at your reaction.

Lando even joked to some reporter that you were in love with the championship.

There was a dinner organized by the drivers to say farewell to Sebastian. Despite knowing most drivers confirmed their presence there, you planned to go and leave early because you always felt left out whenever most drivers got together.

That’s why you texted Lewis to ask what he was wearing that night, and you ended up wearing high waisted suede pants, and a white T-shirt, finishing with a classic black scarpin in your feet and a purse.

Since you and Nando were in the same hotel, you decided to go together with his driver. Only when you got to the car, Charles was also inside the car, and you had to sit quietly by his side, his thigh brushing yours. Nando was in the passenger seat, and you started small talk with him to diffuse the tension he was unaware was happening in the backseat. You were engaged in conversation with Nando when you felt Charles fingers touching your knee. Jolting, you immediately slapped his hand away.

“You ok there?” Nando asked from the front of the car.

“Uh, yes! Just an- annoying mosquito!” You said, faking a smile.

Charles pouted, crossing his arms and pointedly looking to the window of his side.

As the three of you arrived there, half of the grid was already there, seated and chatting. Lewis welcomed you first, warning that he purposefully invited Sebastian to arrive thirty minutes later, so he was the last to arrive. As you sat beside Nando, you noticed how Charles sat beside you again, facing Pierre across the table, and you ended up facing Max. Your eyes met, but you looked away, deciding to focus on conversation with Nando and Lando, who was in front of him.

When Seb arrived, he was welcomed with a round of applause, which made his cheeks redden a little as he laughed. The dinner went well, and you shared red wine with a few of the others, some of them preferred other drinks. It was nice chatting with everyone, and it was the first time you really felt part of the group, everyone together laughing and eating.

“Y/N, who’s your idol from this table?” Carlos asked with a smirk.

“You wanna put me in trouble,” you eyed around. Everyone knew that the people you were closest with, Lewis, Seb and Nando were your racing idols.

“Come on, your favorite, Lewis, Seb or Fernando?” Lando joined in, and the others joined too, egging you on.

“Kimi is my favorite,” you muttered before taking a sip of your wine. Everyone started shouting and calling you a liar, “fine, fine, it doesn’t mean I’m not a big fan of the other two, but growing up, I’ve always wanted to race like Fernando.”

“And now you do,” Fernando said, raising his glass in a toast, which honestly made you blush. Everyone started making fun of you because you were shy and giggly.

You ended up staying until the end, when everyone had to leave to get a good night of sleep for the free practices the next day.

Race day there was a small ceremony to say goodbye to Sebastian, and it was the only part of the week that made you a little sad, even though part of you were really happy knowing he would get to spend time with his family and dedicate himself to his projects of sustainability. When the drivers made a little corridor to applaud him, Sebastian hugged you and you felt a little teary eyed.

The race was great, and you put some effort into winning that one, because you wanted to finish the season with a bang. And a bang it was, holding the P1 trophy again, kissing it and then raising it high as homage to mom.

After the season ended officially, you went straight to Woking to visit the factory and thank everyone personally for making you a car fast enough to make you the champion. Then you had a few media commitments, had to go over some marketing and legal meetings about brands deals and whatnot interested in your image.

Finally, by the beginning of December, you went back to Monaco and slept in for a few days, relaxing body and mind.

When Lando found out you were living in Monaco, he invited you to a padel match, and despite not knowing the game very well, you never said no to any form of competitive sport that could take your mind off things.

“I’ll let you know, I’m a fast learner, Landito.” You pointed when he gave you a padel racket.

“Come on, you have 20 minutes to learn the basics before our competition is here,” he said.

“Oh, we’ll be playing as duos?” You smiled, letting him lead you to the court.

Lando taught you the basics for a while, and you were getting the hang of it when you heard voices behind you. You stopped short as you noticed your competition were Charles and Max, and as they saw you, they too seemed surprised.

“Hello,” you greeted them with a nod.

Luckily Lando didn’t waste any time with pleasantries and went straight to the game. Which was great, since that was a language you could speak. You soon noticed Charles and Max had a bit more experience than you, so you had to up your game a bit, using strategy to outsmart them.

You and Lando won three games and Charles and Max won four.

As you finished, you went to the net and shook their hands. Max stared at you intensely, but you ignored him and went grab your bag.

“You’re leaving?” Lando asked, “we were going to grab a snack after.”

“Oh, um, yeah- I gotta go, I still have a lot to do around the apartment and I’m waiting for some furniture to arrive,” you gave an excuse.

“You’re living in Monaco?” Charles asked, visibly surprised at the info.

“Yeah. So, bye. Thanks for the game.” You started walking away, but Lando jogged to catch up to you.

“Hey, uh- text me when you’re free this weekend. I wanted to talk to you privately about… McLaren” he whispered your team’s name and you raised an eyebrow, you had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but you nodded.

Lando ended up coming over to your apartment Saturday afternoon, he helped you paint your living room walls a soft green, and after you finished, you were eating a few snacks when he finally said what he wanted to talk about.

“So, I know that legally we shouldn’t be talking about it, but- for how long is your new contract with McLaren?” He breached the subject. You paused.

“What? You know my contract ends by the end of next season.”

“Yeah but- the new one-”

He silenced himself abruptly, probably realizing you didn’t get a new one. You pressed your lips in a thin line. You had a contract similar to Lando’s, that would end by the end of next year. But now- now Lando had been offered a renovation, and you weren’t.

“They offered you an extension already?” You asked, shocked.

“No- I mean- It’s just-” Lando realized by your face that he had fucked up.

“Lando.”

“Yes, from 2024 on, with possible extensions,” He said, apologetically.

“Oh” you whispered.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure they are just taking their time putting your contract together since you’re, you know, the world champion,” Lando startled rambling, until his phone started ringing, “I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’m streaming tonight and I need to set up. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sure they’ll offer your renewal soon.”

You bid him goodbye, still processing his words. You tried to be reasonable and not be upset, but the prospect of not receiving a proposal being the world champion didn’t sit right with you. You meditated, thinking to not let that get to you, but a few days before the FIA Gala, you received a proposal from Mercedes, and another from Aston Martin. Both were great, great contracts. They offered a lot of money, security and great publicity.

The night of the Gala, you went all out. Amanda helped you hire a glam team, so you had make up, hair and stylists helping you dress. You wore a silver dress, long with a high slit on the leg, black heels, and your hair was short now, shoulder length and dyed black. You wanted a femme fatale look, and that’s what you got.

Unfortunately, Kimi and Minttu couldn’t go with you, and you didn’t bother to find a date, opting to go by yourself. When you arrived at the ceremony, all eyes were on you. You posed a little by the red carpet and answered a few questions about the championship.

During the ceremony you sat with Lewis, chatting up until the main awards were called. You watched as Charles went up the stage for the third place trophy, he was handsome wearing some designer suit and tie, and glasses that made him even more attractive. He said a couple of words, before making his way down. Then was Max, wearing a gorgeous tux, perfectly tailored to his shoulders and waist. While he was talking, you fixed the bust of your dress and waited for your name to be called alongside the words world champion.

When you got to the stairs, Max was down there, and he offered you a gentlemanly arm to help you up, you hesitated for a brief second but then accepted, letting him guide you up the steps.

Your eyes were on the beautiful trophy. The smile on your face was big, almost giddy, as you went on the stage. You kissed your trophy, leaving a red lipstick stain on the side of it, and you stopped by the mic. After a brief second to recollect your thoughts, you sighed.

“Wow! It’s such an honor to receive this as a token of my hard work and all my years facing pushback for this dream,” you smiled down at the trophy, “I’ll try and keep it brief. I know I have already said some of this, but I’d like to thank my team, not only for making this amazing car that became part of me during this season, but also for giving me a chance three years ago. Thanks to Jace and Amanda, who were such great help this year. I’d like to thank Kimi for seeing me when I was on the brink of giving up and when no scouts looked in my direction, and Minttu for taking me in as one of her own,” you put a hand on your chest, above your heart as your voice choked a little, heavy with emotion, “Thank you, Sebastian and Fernando for accepting my friendship when everyone else turned their backs on me,” you found them both around the crowd, Nando sending you a wink, and Sebastian smiling wildly, “and last but not least, I’d like to thank my mum for working hard to put a roof over my head and food on the table while I was out there hustling for my dream.”

Everyone clapped and you waited for the applause to die down. You could end your speech there, but you wouldn’t be the Lioness if you did.

“Oh, and for those who said I wasn’t gonna go far… You can suck my-” you interrupted yourself, showing your tongue cheekily, making almost everyone in the room laugh.

That night you drank, danced and sang like never before. You woke up hungover and a little blacked out, not remembering the whole night, only some glimpses of it.

You stayed the Holidays with Kimi and his family, and despite being invited by Lando to a big New Year’s Eve party, you opted for a chill celebration. You still found time to send Sebastian and his family some Christmas presents and you managed to go karting with Fernando on his track in Asturias.

After meeting with Fernando, you went on a solo trip around Spain, visiting cities and learning a little bit about history while practicing your spanish. You also tried a few hobbies, out of curiosity. You tried playing tennis, skydiving and surfing.

Soon, you were back in Monaco to resume your training for next season and traveling to Woking to see your new car. You also sat with Amanda and your lawyer, and accepted a few brand deals, one for makeup and another for a big fashion brand. You were genuinely happy with both, you always wanted to get into fashion but never had the time or knack for it, but now with your deal, they would link you to a stylist and give you outfit options.

You entered the new season fresh, feeling good not only about your talent as a racing driver, but about your looks and new style, feeling that your championship could finally back you up.

Only if the media got the memo.

“Y/N do you believe when people attribute your championship win to Verstappen’s mistake?”

You felt fire in your throat, anger bubbling up.

“No, I believe I won the championship because I drove well the whole season. I attribute my championship to myself, my talent and my hard work,” your tone was harsh, and you didn’t even bother to sound pleasant, “I wonder if this was asked to every other Formula 1 champion of the world or just me?”

You huffed, putting your mic down, and you saw Fernando leaning towards you to whisper, “it’s good to have the Lioness back.”

It was different seeing Nando wearing green now and Sebastian’s absence was noticed from day one. He had sent you a text wishing good luck in the season.

There was also a weird shift that you noticed soon, right in the first few races. The rivalry between Max and Charles had been placated a little. They were still rivals on the track, but out of it, they were seen chatting and discussing, all in good spirits and friendly. Whatever rift had caused the tension all these years was apparently mended. So now, they were only your rivals, together against the greater evil. You.

Without a win in the first three races that season, you were sure something was wrong. Could it be your car, but it could also be you.

You came out of debriefing feeling a stress induced headache starting. You walked around the paddock aimlessly, just trying to clear your head and not face any photographer or reporter. That’s why you were around the moving boxes and trucks, trying to find a secluded spot to breathe and meditate.

Unfortunately, you ended up facing two people pressed against a wall. Frowning, you tried to understand what was going on, when you realized it was Max and Charles. Their sides were pressed on each other, but what caught your attention was that they were holding hands, whispering to each other.

You paused, trying to make sense of it. And then Max caressed Charles’ jaw. Then you decided, it was none of your business whatever they did.

Turning around, you were leaving when you stepped on something and it broke loudly. You just kept walking away, not looking back, you were almost leaving the lot when someone held your wrist, making you turn back around.

“Wait, Y/N, we- we can-” Charles’ voice failed him, visibly nervous.

“We can buy your silence,” Max added, suddenly. You frowned, shaking your head.

“I didn’t see anything,” you muttered trying to walk away, but now Max also held your other wrist.

“Say your price,” Max pressed further, making you angry.

“I don’t know what kind of psycho you take me for, but I didn’t see anything,” you say, suggestively, “I wouldn’t want someone to out me, and I wouldn’t do that to anyone else either. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Fuck,” Max whispered, letting go of your hand.

“You- you promise?” Charles asked, still not letting go of you.

“I swear on my mom’s grave.” You said softly just because you could understand their fear, you knew first hand how cruel the motorsport world could be. Whatever was going on between them was none of your business.

You left without another word, hoping they believed you.

The season kept going, and your car wasn’t as good as the year before which was really upsetting you and forcing you to work even harder to match your quality the previous year.

But also both Max and Charles stopped publicly taunting you, making people wonder if your rivalry had ended. It was annoying because that dynamic was all that you’ve known from them, and the fact that they stopped shading you because they were scared to anger you and you eventually exposed them to the world was even more annoying. You wondered if you should talk to them, to let them know it was never coming out of your mouth.

You decided silence was the best course of action. You had enough problems with your car as it was.

Before the fifth race of the season, all the drivers were called for a meeting, to talk about a few safety measures that were being put in place for paddock safety. You sat through it quietly, only listening to the FIA representative. You knew that meeting was because of what had happened to you in Zandvoort the year before, you had taken your complaints to the FIA and miraculously, they had abided by it.

You left the meeting as soon as it was over, walking away. But then, you touched your wrist as a nervous tic.

No. No.

You noticed you didn’t have your watch with you the moment you left the building, patting your pockets to make sure it wasn’t there as you ran right back to the meeting room where the drivers debrief had been.

As soon as you entered, you saw both Max and Charles checking the watch, the monegasque was the one holding it.

“Hey, uh-” you paused, trying to not sound rude, “that’s mine, can I have it back?”

Charles looked at you with that smirk as Max moved away a few steps. Charles opened his hand in your direction, handing you the watch. But as you were to grab it, he pulled back and threw it. You froze, seeing the watching flying directly into Max’s awaiting hands behind you.

“Please, don't-” you gasped as Max pretended to throw it back to Charles. But he didn’t, he just extended his open hand to you, probably noticing the worry in your face.

Skittishly, you got closer to him and grabbed the watch from his hand. He didn’t pull away like Charles had done.

But as you pulled it back, your own hand slipped the watch, and you eyed it with horror as it hit the ground immediately breaking the crystal. You felt like your heart was breaking along with your mom’s watch.

“No, no,” you whispered, kneeling down to take it back.

“Hey, what is happ-” you heard Lewis’ voice entering the room but he stopped short as he saw you almost crying on the floor. He immediately helped you get up.

Both Max and Charles were shocked, still rooted to the spot as it was the first time they ever saw you show any kind of extreme emotion, and the pain in your eyes made both of them get filled with guilt.

You stood up still holding the watch in your hand as a fragile thing, pretty much like your heart.

“Hey, kiddo. Come on,” Lewis put an arm around your shoulders, pushing you away softly after giving the other two drivers a nasty glare.

You didn’t try to get it fixed, and you still wore it even with the crystal shattered. You knew it was a relic, vintage and probably handmade since it was generations in your family. But also you were too emotionally attached to it to get rid of the watch.

After the race, once you got a P2, finally, you went to the hotel, skipping the celebration the team wanted to throw for you but still picking the bill for their night out.

It was late at night when you were rewatching the race, trying to see whatever mistake caused you to miss that P1 that was just within reach but you didn’t manage to take it. You were taking notes, typing in your laptop, when a knock on your door interrupted. You had already ordered room service, but sometimes Amanda did it for you if she thought you weren’t eating enough.

You opened the door to be faced with Max and Charles.

“Can we come in?” Charles asked, and confused, you opened the door wider to let them in.

“We came to apologize about the watch, we’re sorry.” Max started, looking at Charles for his cue.

“That was really immature of us, sorry,” Charles added.

“It’s alright,” you sighed, a little tired, “it’s not your fault, really. I dropped it, not you.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened if we just didn’t mess around with you.”

You sighed again, despite being sad about the watch, you didn’t really blame them for it. Charles took your hand suddenly, making you stare up at them, both of them looking at the broken watch you were still wearing. Max opened the bag and handed you a small box. It was a Rolex.

“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” he handed you the watch. You stared at the box, taking it as a sign of good faith from them.

“Thanks,” you whispered, “I was just eating, you wanna join me?”

They nodded, uncertain. They followed you to the en-suite, the most recent race paused on the TV. You closed your laptop.

“I appreciate the gesture, but-” you unclasped the watch in your wrist, handing it to Charles who was sitting closer to you, “it has emotional value, it was mum’s.”

You waited as they read the inscription, Charles gasping when he realized it had way more value to you than the stupidly expensive Rolex they managed to buy you. Running his thumb on the inscription, Max looked at you.

“I know a guy back home, he- he can fix the crystal,” Max told you, “would you trust me to take it to get fixed? It’s the least I could do.”

“You don’t have to,” you shook your head, “I don’t blame you for breaking it.”

“Please?” Max asked, and something inside you spread warmth in your chest.

“Fine,” you sighed, seeing Max pocket your watch in his bag, “please, help yourselves.”

They went to the table of room service and grabbed a bit of food. They sat around.

“You were rewatching the race?”

“Yeah, I like taking notes, seeing what I can improve…”

You closed your laptop and the TV, not wanting them to check your confidential information.

“How are you feeling this year?” Max asked, awkwardly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m alright, I guess. I mean, the car could be better,” you shrugged.

“And about your mom?” Charles looked at you intently.

“It’s grief, right?” You blinked slowly, “it comes and goes in waves. Sometimes they’re tiny waves breaking on your ankles, and sometimes it feels like you’re going to drown in them.”

There’s a brief silence, but when you meet his eyes, Charles’ eyes shine in understanding.

“I know.”

Max managed to change topics, talking about the track, the race and his impressions. Was a safe topic, lighter. You didn’t notice how, but you three ended up sitting in a small circle on the floor. Max was passionately talking about track adherence, and he was so focused on his explanation that it was actually funny. You eyed Charles, and you two bursted out laughing, which made Max stop, looking at you confused.

When you stopped laughing, sitting straight, Charles was suddenly very close. Way closer than before. His face was just a few centimeters away from yours, and it made you dizzy.

You snapped your head to Max, who was looking at you with just as much desire as Charles. He nodded to you, giving you permission.

Charles held your face and kissed you, softly and tentatively. You broke the kiss, looking from Charles’ beautiful eyes to Max’s. You watched as Max shifted closer to you, holding your jaw as he kissed you too.

You couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening, but you were very shocked and equally turned on.

Max’s hand slid from your jaw, down to your neck, and you were still wide eyed, your breathing progressively more shallow. You felt Charles behind you, his hand on your waist, pressing softly. You closed your eyes as Max slowly closed the distance between you again, and you felt his lips pressing against yours. With shaky fingers, your hands trailed beneath his shirt, up his back, nails grazing his skin. While you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss, you moaned, feeling Charles leaving open mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder, goosebumps rising in your skin. It was overwhelming, because they were everywhere, hands, lips and bodies stealing your breath. Everything was so hot, you felt like removing your clothes and the pulsing in your shamelessly wet panties.

“Take it off,” Max breathed after breaking the kiss, he helped the monegasque, who quickly tore your clothes leaving you only in panties. Max pushed you until your back was on the floor, and he and Charles were kneeling on each side of your body. “Charlie, come kiss her.”

Charles laid down, kissing you gently first, then deepening the kiss until you were pawing his waist and torso under his shirt. Seeing your struggle, he removed the shirt himself, while Max watched, running both hands up and down your thighs. Max suddenly pulled Charles closer, kissing him, their kiss was just as hard and messy as the kisses they had given you. Seeing the way their lips explored each other made you even wetter, and you couldn’t help but run your finger above your slit, your pussy still clothed. They removed each other’s clothes very fast.

They stopped, and Max soon removed your panties, laying between your legs. You moaned as his tongue lapped at your pussy, tentatively and Charles leaned down to kiss you again. Your heart was running insane, so fast you thought it would stop. Charles went lower and mouthed at your nipples, and you reached for his cock.

“Spit,” you ordered Charles, offering the palm of your hand. A little hesitantly, he did, a glob of spit on the palm of your hand and you grabbed his cock again, and he moaned out loud feeling the glide of your hand.

You felt one of Max’s fingers inside you, twisting so good that you had to hold his head, grinding your hips into him. The pleasure of Max working your cunt was so blinding that you lost focus on the handjob, but it didn’t deter Charles, who just decided to fuck into your hand.

You looked down, just to see Max looking straight at you through his lashes. He sucked at your clit, watching you writhe and come undone, grinding your hips on his face, wetting half of his face as he devoured you.

“Charlie will fuck you now, yeah?” Max asked as you recovered, and he carried you to the couch, positioned you on his lap, facing Charles, who just knelt between your legs.

Charles filled you up in one swift movement, and you moaned at the tight fit, melting into Max just behind you, holding you firmly, one hand on your neck, the other across your abdomen. The dutch kissed your neck, biting and sucking your skin, but his eyes trained on the way Charles’ hips started moving into you, you pulled Max’s hand that was on your neck and put it over your mouth, to muffle your moans, he pushed two fingers in your mouth and you sucked. The pressure was deliriously good, and Charles kept blabbering about how good you felt, and how warm was your cunt, and you were making him feel so good, mixed with lots of french expletives. Charles pressed further, his chest against yours as he found Max over your shoulder and kissed him. You felt Max’s hand that was between your bodies, find its way to your clit, rubbing in circles and pushing you even faster to your second orgasm, drooling over the fingers he still had in your mouth, you hips shaking so much you were rubbing Max’s cock with your ass, at the same time that Charles came crashing down, filling you up as he moaned out loud.

“My turn now, yes?” Max said, repositioning you like a ragdoll, while Charles laid down, pulling you on all fours on top of him, as Max took his turn behind you.

Charles pulled your face closer, kissing you all sloppy and open mouthed as Max filled you up to the hilt, making your knees shake. As if he knew, and he probably did, Charles held your hips up when Max started pistoning into you, fucking you so good you could only hold onto Charles and bite into his shoulders to keep yourself from being too loud.

You did not sleep that night. Max and Charles’ stamina wa otherworldly, and you three kept fucking until morning came. Sometimes you just watched them, sometimes you took one while the other rested, sometimes you took them at the same time. With them, you tried more adventurous positions than you had tried your entire life. They had a different way of finding out the workings of your body, of discovering the rhythm you liked and the sound of your moaning echoing on the walls.

The second time they slipped into your room was almost three weeks later, under the guise that they wanted to give your watch back now fixed.

After a little chit chat Max pulled you into his lap and Charles pressed his chest to your back and in minutes you three were naked, touching and kissing and moaning into each other's mouth.

It became some sort of routine, every few weeks, they would sneak into your room, and you’d bang them any way you wanted.

Then they would stay more, bring dinner or put on a movie. They would snuggle with you in bed while the movie played, Max holding your thigh softly and you playing with Charles’ hair. It was good to unwind and forget about Formula 1.

Every day, after they left, you’d whisper to yourself.

“Don’t get too attached, Y/N. They’re your rivals.”

You didn’t want to poison all the sexy moments and all the tranquility they made you feel, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get too caught up in this. It should be fun, but it couldn’t be more than that.

Racing was never a topic of conversation between you, not only because those few hours together were sacred but also because all three of you were rivals and were in different teams, which could get very messy, very quickly.

Eventually, after Barcelona, McLaren brought a new upgrade. Which for you, it was a godsend. Finally, you could get back on your feet again. The car felt lighter and you had much more control. And in Montreal, you finally got the first win of the season. A huge weight was lifted from your shoulders and you even cried a couple of tears finishing the race first for the first time that year. And it was also the first 1-2 you and Lando had ever, which was even more reason for celebration.

You and Lando ended up closing a club for your celebration, inviting the whole team.

Max and Charles were there too, and they spent most of the night in a booth, chatting among other drivers. You knew they were watching you even pretending not to, and it was a matter of time until they had drunk enough to approach you. So you decided to not stay late and just leave.

You bid Lando goodbye quickly, telling him you were tired even if it was relatively early for a clubbing night. As you made your way to the most discreet exit, you felt a hand on your forearm, pulling you to a corner, and you were faced with both Charles and Max.

“Leaving so soon, chéri?” Charles asked, eyes glossy and probably a little tipsy.

“We came here to celebrate you,” Max said, one hand going around your waist. Wide eyed, you immediately pushed his hand away, taking a step back. They were confused.

“Not here. Too public, someone might see us, or even take pictures.”

“Don’t be like that, there is no one around now,” Charles pointed around, and granted, it was really empty on that side of the club, but anyone could walk in any moment.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, “not in public.”

“You’re ashamed of us?” Max squinted, looking into your eyes.

“I never said that. I can’t risk anything happening to my image just because I wanted to screw someone.”

“So that’s how you see us? A good fuck and nothing else?” Max pressed you further.

“Again,” you repeated slowly, your patience running thin, “that’s not what I said,” there was a tense pause and you pinched the bridge of your nose, “look, we all had more than enough to drink, and this is not the moment or the place for this conversation.”

“No, no,” Charles shook his head, “I believe you made yourself clear enough.”

With that, they walked away clearly pissed with you. Going back to the hotel, you knew there was nothing you could do at that moment to change their minds. They wouldn’t understand your point of view that easily, not only because they were drunk, but also because they weren’t a woman in Formula 1. Everyone fed off your failures like vultures, and if it leaked that you were going out not only with one, but with two other drivers, you knew you could kiss your career goodbye.

The media was never the kindest to you, and the majority of the fans weren’t either, so you knew how it would look if anyone found out about you three. They already call you slut without any knowledge of your romantic history, they would ruin your life if they were to know. And most certainly question not only your seat in Formula 1 but also your World Championship.

You just hoped you could explain that to Charles and Max when they were with clear heads.

Only you didn’t.

They never came back to your room, nor did they answer your texts.

Two entire weeks passed with only anguish gnawing at your insides, trying to reach them privately, but failing miserably. They were not only ignoring you, but also avoiding you. You couldn’t take it anymore, so in Austria, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You’d corner the first one you saw.

And that was Charles right before the drivers parade. You were the first ones to get there, which gave you some sense of privacy, well, as much as you could.

“You need to listen to me, this is a misunderstanding, Charles.”

But he straight up ignored you, not even bothering to look in your direction. With a heavy heart, you nodded, moving away from him. Making peace with the fact that maybe this was the end of your little affair. They had not understood you, and had ignored all your efforts to explain, closing the door of whatever was going on.

Resolute, you decided that maybe it was for the best. If they couldn’t understand where you were coming from, then better say farewell already. But you couldn’t help that anguishing feeling in your stomach.

It showed to be true during the race, when you were P4 fighting to get into the podium at least. Max was P3, and he fought tooth and nail to not allow you to pass, even if you had the pace to overtake him. You tried a risky move, one you had learned from Fernando Alonso. Pretend you’re going to overtake on one side, let him defend that side, then push your car to the other side and dive for the position.

You almost did the full move, but when you were going for the position, Max just pushed his car into your side, which caused you to lose control and you spun to the gravel. You just decelerated as much as you could. You left the car and went back to the pits with the help of marshals. You didn’t bother to even look into Max’s direction, feeling your eyes getting teary. You weighted with your helmet on, and only took it off inside the garage, because you didn’t want people to see you cry.

It was relatively normal to DFN because of a crash, and given the history of rivalry between you and Max, it was also very common to collide with him. What made you upset wasn’t him protecting his position, but him purposefully taking you out, like he was just getting back at you because he was angry. You had left enough space for him. Despite the overtaking maneuver being a little risky, you never once got close enough to him that you could cause an accident. He had not slipped and lost control. He had not tried to avoid you. He just ran straight into your sidepod.

“What happened today?” A reporter asked you when you went to the post race interviews.

“What is there to say? I think the images speak for themselves.” You shrugged, feeling tired but not wanting to give the media too much as to not cause a PR nightmare to Amanda.

“Seems like the FIA will investigate Max Verstappen because of today’s incident.” Someone else mentioned, and you couldn’t help but scoff.

“I’m sure they will,” you muttered, voice laced with sarcasm.

The debriefing was just as bad with your Team Principal calling you out in front of the whole team not only for damaging your car but also for putting yourself at risk like that.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I did what any other driver would do in my position!” You sighed trying to calm down, “don’t make me quote Ayrton Senna to you. If you no longer go for a gap that exists, then you’re no longer a racing driver. You and everyone saw that Verstappen didn’t have the pace to match me, so he just plunged into me to take me out!”

God, you needed an ice bath. And maybe a new punchbag.

You were getting ready to leave when Max came up to you. You didn’t say anything to him, you honestly didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. You just wanted to go home and cry under the shower.

He was red in the face and looked distressed. You couldn’t help but feel defensive, holding your bag to your chest.

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” you said, trying to walk away but he blocked your path.

“Listen,” he started and the moment he raised his hand to remove his cap, it triggered you, and you flinched as if he was gonna hit you.

He stopped immediately, because he knew that was a trauma response. He knew that him being angry must have reminded you of your father growing up. He knew all that because he too, sometimes, had this kind of knee jerk reaction.

But you felt sick to your stomach. It wasn’t intentional, but it made you look like you believed he would’ve hit you, and rationally you knew he wouldn’t do that. But your stupid body did.

You avoided Max and walked away as fast as you could.

Back in the hotel you just packed your bags and left, going straight to the airport to fly back to Monaco. You were exhausted by the time you made it home, but you still took a shower and cried a couple of tears under the streaming water.

In bed, you tried to convince yourself this ending for your fling with them was for the best. It was too complicated anyway.

And you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t miss the feel of Max’s lips against your neck, or the feel of your hands pulling Charles’ hair softly. Or the way Charles used to mumble French mindlessly whenever he was concentrating on something. Or how often Max would do his maxplaining with his vast knowledge of the most random topics.

Your body was so tired but your mind just did not shut off.

You were a couple of hours into staring at the ceiling when the doorbell rang. Carefully, you went there, it was the middle of the night, so you checked the door camera to see both Max and Charles by the door.

Slowly, you opened to them. You swallowed, waiting for them to say something. You felt so vulnerable, this knot in your stomach had been tormenting you since the day they walked away.

“I’m- we’re really sorry,” Max started.

“For ignoring you and mistreating you and never once giving you the chance to explain your side,” Charles took a small step inside.

It was like a dam broke, and you ran into their embrace, sobbing. All three of you hugged, Charles with a comforting hand on your back and Max kissing the side of your head. They patiently waited for you to calm down, and then closed the door and walked you to the sofa.

“I missed you,” you murmured, holding Max’s jaw to peck his lips, doing the same to Charles, “I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Can we talk?” Charles asked, “you said it was a misunderstanding.”

You nodded, taking your phone from your room. You sat on the coffee table as you gave them your phone with your instagram profile opened.

“Check the comments on my last post,” you pointed and they sat side by side scrolling through it, the horror on their faces getting worse every second they kept going.

You knew the kind of comments you had on your profile. Hateful, hurtful comments. It had been that way since you made it into Formula 1.

“What a slut” “I bet there’s a reason why Charles hates her” “She never deserved that championship! #Retire” “Ugly bitch” “Whose dick she had to blow to get a seat?” “Overrated dumb whore” “I bet she tried to fuck her way through the grid, that’s why most of them hate her” “Max should’ve crashed into her harder”

It was nothing new to you, Kimi and your PR team had prepared you for years for this type of treatment. And you honestly had grown used to it, learning to ignore.

“This is disgusting, Y/N!” Charles exclaimed, trying to put the phone away, but Max snatched it back, still reading the comments.

“That’s just a regular Monday for me,” you shrugged, “I’m not trying to victimize myself or anything, but-”

“You are a victim, this is not okay!” Charles said.

“What I wanted to say is, I can’t risk us going public. This is what I face just for doing my job, and it would get so much worse if people ever found out. They already believe I fucked my way to the top, to them, we would just confirm their suspicions,” you felt Charles holding your hand for comfort, “it is very different for a woman. And I adore what we have, but I can't put you above my career and my dreams.”

Max extended his hand to you, and you grasped it, letting him pull you to sit between them. Charles kissed your cheek.

“We would never ask you to do such a thing,” Max said.

“I’m sorry we didn’t see what you are going through with the media and our fans.” Charles muttered, pulling your hair back with a hand, and holding your waist with the other.

“We missed you,” Max whispered against the other side of your neck.

In a couple of minutes they had you spread open on the sofa, Charles’ head between your legs and Max’s lips latched on to your nipples. They made sure to apologize orgasm after orgasm, cooing your moaning mess and kissing you stupid.

Routine went back to normal after that. You still didn’t name your affair and decided that for now, it was better this way.

With the upgraded car, you actually managed to pick up the pace and find yourself rising up the standings.

Silverstone was promising, being one of your favorite tracks, and one you knew you could win again this year. You did great both of the free practices, trying to keep your focus now more than ever, to get a chance at the championship again. There were specific races that you’d amp up your security team for safety, but Silverstone wasn’t one of them.

Qualifying day, you went to the track early morning, to meet with your team, talk about the results of free practices and your input. As you walked to your garage quietly chatting on the phone, you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you aside. You yelped, jerking around and you ended up facing the person. A man, and it took you a couple of seconds to recognize all the gray hair, but the evil eyes were still very much the same.

It had been more than a decade since you saw your father for the last time. Gasping, you took a step back to walk away, but he gripped your forearm, forcing you back.

Funny how fear worked, you hadn’t seen him for years, and you always imagined that now that you were all grown up, you’d be fearless, a big girl, brave and face your father head on. But it wasn’t how things happened. Immediately your fight or fight kicked in. Your eyes darted around, trying to catch someone you knew or someone from security.

“Let. Go.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Is that how you greet your father?” He said, and you pulled your hand from his grasp.

“I don’t have one,” you spat, anger rising in your chest, hand in hand with fear. You wanted to bolt, to ban him from your life forever, to cry and shout all at once.

“I made you. I spent thousands investing in your career so you could be here, a little gratitude would be good,” he said with a fake smile, and it disgusted you.

“I’ll never attribute my success to you, you disgusting piece of-”

He held your face with a hand, pressing your jaw with such force that it made you stumble a step back. You gripped his wrist, trying to pull away but he pressed your face harder, pressing your head against the wall.

“Very careful how you speak to me!” He rasped, gritted teeth and all, “you little shit, you think you are better than me? I turned you into who you are! The least you own me-”

“I owe you shit!” You said, and spat on his face.

“I gave money and a house to that whore you called a mother-”

You snapped, getting a hold of the fear, and you punched him in the face, hard enough for him to get away and you get space to run. You took one single step when you stumbled into someone, and your eyes found Max.

It was a brief second between looking at you, looking behind you and recognising your father. Recovering from your punch, your father tried to get to you again, but Max stood between the two of you, pushing your father’s chest so he stumbled back. Charles arrived soon after with security, as Max explained that this man was to be escorted out and never allowed to come back.

“Chéri, are you ok?” Charles asked, seeing you taking a step back and leaning against the wall.

You nodded, trying to talk but your voice caught on your throat, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your legs gave in and you slid down until you were sitting on the floor.

“Amour, talk to me, hey-” Charles was worried, you were pale and shaking. Max also knelt down beside you, holding your face to try and see if your father had hurt you.

“Get him out,” you said, and Max nodded, going to talk with security.

“Amour-”

“Guys, there’s cameras around the corner!” Lewis showed up out of nowhere.

“I’m fine,” you managed to blurt, holding on the wall to stand up.

“Hey, hey-” Charles tried to hold your arm but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, walking away back into the garage.

Your mind was spinning, all over the place, and through text you told Charles and Max that you were fine and wanted to be alone. The qualifying was a shitshow. Your mind was completely all over the place, and even making it to Q2, you couldn’t go farther than P14, it felt like the car wasn’t responding to your commands.

You came out of qualy completely pissed. At your father, for showing up and ruining your good streak of races. At yourself, for letting him get to your head, for still giving him so much power over you. You walked away without a second thought, went to your room and kicked your boots off.

Press talk was another shit. You couldn’t pay attention to most questions, gave monosyllabic answers, and couldn’t explain why your qualifying performance was so bad compared to the rest of the year.

You just apologized to your team during debriefing, and silently acquiesced to whatever the strategy for the race was. Kimi had texted you asking about what happened, you didn’t want to talk to him just yet.

You were getting ready to leave for the day, when Fernando came into your room.

“I don’t want to talk, Nando,” you held your bag, not even bothering to look at him.

“Good, because I do the talking then. Go, sit down.” He pretty much ordered, his face stony and serious in a way you hadn't seen before. “What happened today?”

“I’ve got a lot going on,” it was all you said.

“Your father showed up, messed with your head and with your confidence,” Fernando said, with the certainty of someone who knew you really well. You wondered if the whole grid knew about your father’s presence today. You gulped. “Look, this is something you will master with time, but I’m going to tell you now. When you put your helmet on and get in the car, you’re a racer, nothing more. Your problems, your worries, they stay back and they never cross your mind for the entirety of the race. Out on the track, you’re one with the car, doing your best is the only thing that matters.” Fernando pressed his index finger softly to your forehead, as if he was quite literally putting it in your head, “Clear. Your. Mind.”

You sniffled, wiping the one tear that came down. Fernando’s face softened, but you knew he wanted only the best for you. And he was right. You kept giving your father this power. You handed him the power. You couldn’t keep letting him get away with it. This was the one thing you knew you were good at, your calling, your destiny and all your hard work. And you’d be damned if your father would keep a hold over your life.

“Clear my mind,” you inhaled, nodding.

You did your best to study your strategy for the day, to focus on what you could do to achieve the best result.

Early the next morning, you went to the FIA, to request access to the camera footage to find images of the altercation between you and your father the day before. The representative you talked to was initially reluctant but once you told him what had happened, he was quick to help you. You explained that it was for the better that none of that came to light, and hopefully you could get your father to be completely banned from Formula One. The representative prepared a report and assured you that your complaint would be taken seriously and they’d work on the matter as fast and as discreetly as possible.

You went to meet your team and go over and over plan A, B and C. When you got in the car, ready to race, you still hadn’t talked with Max or Charles, and you were hopeful to catch them after. Attaching the helmet, you breathed in, slowly, remembering Fernando’s words.

Clear your mind.

You raced like there was no tomorrow, only thinking of the next turn and the next car you had to overtake, you didn’t think of who it was or when, you just did it. In the future, that race was going down in history as a masterclass in overtaking and taking every little opportunity thrown your way. The time passed really fast, and when you came to be, you heard Jace screaming in your ears that you had made it. You had made it to P1 and taken the checkered flag.

Your voice was shaky as you thanked the team and Jace on the radio.

When you left, running towards your team, they congratulated you and despite the great desire to run towards Max and Charles, who were on the podium with you, you somehow managed to find Fernando. You ran towards him, jumping in his arms, not even minding the way your helmets hit with a loud thud. He hugged you, removing your feet from the ground.

“Thank you! Gracias, muchas gracias, Fernando!” You shouted hoping he could hear you with both visors up.

He patted your shoulder as you had to run back to get weighted and to post-race interview.

“Wow, I’m at a loss for words right now! You were a true Lioness during this race! Can you tell us what happened after the difficult Qualy yesterday?” Jenson Button was the one to ask.

“I was in a difficult place yesterday, and I’m very thankful for a pep talk Fernando Alonso gave me, that helped me get back into my jam!” You said, breathless, wiping sweat from your forehead, “I’m also grateful to my team for making the car that matched my energy and focus today!”

“And what did Fernando tell you?” Jenson asked, probably out of curiosity.

“Well, I can’t go out telling my secrets, can I? My rivals are all around!” You winked, and left a laughing Jenson behind.

In the cooldown room, where Max and Charles were already watching a montage with all your overtakes on a screen, you walked up to Charles, taking his hand. He looked a little concerned as you had agreed to keep your relationship private. Max joined, patting a hand on your back, and the three of you made a little triangle.

You looked at them with so much adoration, that it hit Max right in the chest and he wanted nothing more than to hold your face and kiss you silly. Charles held his breath for a brief second, being in the moment with the two of you.

“You were brilliant, today,” Charles muttered, low and hoping no mic would catch the sound.

“Unbelievable, Lioness.” Max also said with a discreet wink, then taking a step back and interrupting the moment.

That wasn’t your first podium, nor your first win, but something was different when you kissed the trophy and raised it to the sky. You felt like you’d taken back control of your life and your career. There was nothing that could actually stop you if you put your mind to it, and you knew now. You shitty father couldn’t squander your dreams when you were fourteen, and he couldn’t do it now either. You were so much bigger than him, greater than that pathetic man could ever be.

And you didn’t need him.

You had a mother that, despite not being there anymore, but she’d always be in your heart, a constant source of strength and faith. You had Kimi, who believed you when no one else did, who put his own hand over fire for you. You had Fernando, Seb and Lewis, your idols in this sport, and such good friends. You had Charles and Max, your lovers, and hopefully your future.

That night, as you were laying down in your suite, sandwiched between the two men that stole your heart, came the email with your renewal contract proposition. A five year offer, possible extensions, to make you the face of your McLaren.

You made love with Charles and Max with renewed energy, enjoying yourself and the feel of their love for you. It was just the assurance you needed to say the words.

“I love you. I love you two very much,” you whispered, running your hand through both their hairs, “I can’t promise much right at this moment, like a normal, public, relationship yet, but I do love you.”

“We know. We love you too.” Max whispered and Charles took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“We love you too much to risk you facing awful dangerous things just so we could call you ours publicly,” Charles agreed.

That year, you didn’t get a second championship as you had dreamed, but you proudly stood with your P2 trophy during the FIA’s Prize Giving Ceremony, your chest swelling with pride as you watched Charles’ beaming face with the P1 trophy.

There was some renewed sense of purpose in yourself as you held the trophy, and in your heart, this one meant just as much as the champion trophy you had gotten the year before. This year you had overcome all the demons that had controlled you for a long time, this year you had not only learned to live with the undying love for your mom, but you had also learned about new forms of love. You had somehow rekindled that love for racing, for believing you were the best and could prove it amidst adversity.

And of course, many adversities were still to come, but now you were sure you had in yourself the power to face them.

When the next season started, you had your eyes on the prize.

Even spending a great amount of winter break with your boyfriends, they were still your rivals on track.

You were fixing your suit on the pitlane when they walked up to you.

“I hope you know this championship is mine,” Max said with a smirk. You caught his playful tone fairly quickly.

“Well, I am the current champion of the world, so we’ll see about that,” Charles crossed his arms.

“Boys, no crying when I leave the both of you eating dust, yeah?” You added, biting back a giggle.

“Baby, go easy on us,” Max joked, and you shook your head.

“Never going easy on my rivals,” You added with a whisper, “not even when they’re my handsome boyfriends.”

“See you after the finish line,” Charles winked, and they both walked away.

“Hope you enjoy the view of my rear!” You said, and they left, laughing.

Always rivals, but much more than that.

NOTE: If you want to know why I chose to end the story this way, or have any questions about the characters future, or any random headcanons, drop by my inbox and I'll try to answer most! Thank you so much for the support in this little adventure! Thank you to everyone who dropped a little ask/message asking for more, I'll try and answer you if I haven't yet! (also, sorry if i missed any tag)

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crushribbons · 3 months

Text

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊

summary: Sebastian Sallow should have been a Ravenclaw. (series masterlist)

cw: 4.6k words, pining, fluff, very light angst, smut (18+ ONLY), male masturbation *cough*saltburn*cough*, sexual imagery, Sebastian in a towel 😵‍��

a/n: this if my first HL fic :) feedback welcome and requests are open! req rules here. enjoy xx laney

“Mr. Sallow! Would you care to join the rest of the class in absorbing the information I am teaching? I suspect the grounds will still look just as they do now after the period has ended.”

The wave of suppressed, tittering laughter fluttered around the room and died quickly as Professor Weasley turned back to the parrot on her desk. Sebastian yanked his head off his upturned palm and away from the window he’d been staring out of. Rain was pouring down in resolute sheets and turning the lush Hogwarts grounds to murky mud. Absolutely no good for a flying match against Imelda, because the witch was so talented at flying in any condition, it almost guaranteed that the outcome of their “friendly” wager would be ten less galleons in his already light pockets.

He turned his attention, or at least tried to, back to the parrot. Weasley had been droning on for so long that he could no longer remember whether it had started as a parrot or if it had been a picnic basket first. He doubted that in his day-to-day life he would find much use for turning either into either.

“Dreamy dreamer,” murmured a voice to his left, and he swiveled his head still further to catch the eye of the witch sitting next to him. She was balancing her head on her fist and smirking to herself.

Dreamy, he was. The Transfiguration classroom was as cold as the grounds were sure to be, but when he remembered that his favorite classmate was seated mere inches from him, he suddenly found his cheeks to be unbearably hot.

She had plummeted into his life, in the wake of a dragon attack, nearly three years ago now, and Sebastian had never been so instantly intrigued with anyone before. He was intrigued particularly because she refused to tell so little about her past, her travels, herself, that he couldn’t help but be drawn toward this talented little mystery that demanded solving.

“So,” he had said, on only her second morning at the castle, sidling up to her as soon as he found her not flanked by Professor Fig whispering in harsh, muted tones. “Entrance, pursued by a dragon, is it?” She had whipped around to face him. Her smile was enough to make his knees crumple and he felt a little taken aback. No one had mentioned that the dragon tamer was ludicrously beautiful.

“I fared slightly better than poor old Antigonus, though, don’t you think?” His breath had stuttered in his chest for a moment. Oh, he liked her already. She introduced herself and asked for his name.

“I’m Sebastian Sallow, but how’d you get here, after the dragon? And where from? And why do all the professors seem so concern–”

“Sebastian Sallow, I think the Sorting Hat may have missed the mark with you. Only a Ravenclaw could be so curious,” she’d deadpanned with a glint in her eyes that told him she was thoroughly enjoying the obscurity surrounding her arrival at Hogwarts. She gave his Slytherin tie a gentle brush with her forefinger and then she was gone. As she’d clipped away towards the Great Hall for breakfast, robes swishing behind her and the imprint of her finger swiping across his chest still present, his jaw had hung slack. He later inwardly punished himself for calling hoarsely after her,

“N-no, I’m a Slytherin!” Very witty, Sallow.

They became friends quickly after that. When he sat down in the first Transfiguration class of fifth year and found himself elbow to elbow with her, he prayed to every deity he could remember that he could manage not to fuck up talking to her this time. And he didn’t; their chats and whispered estimations as to how long it would take Ominis to fall asleep after lecture started and notes passed to one another were the highlight of his week–no, his year. Before his sixth and seventh years, a well-placed and distracting bottle of port had been enough for him to slip into Professor Black’s office long enough to fix the Transfiguration schedule and ensure those highlights would last.

When she’d first asked him to show her how to get in the Restricted Section of the library, however, he’d realized that this witch was not just adventurous outside of school. It had taken all his nerve and self-control not to stare at her bum as they snuck through the library doors and past Scribner’s watchful, hawkish gaze. Reaching the section unscathed and unnoticed was old hat for Sebastian at that point, but it gave his companion such a thrill that she threw her arms around his neck and squealed in delight. Sebastian remained stiff as a board while congratulating her, so as not to reveal that he was, in fact, stiff as a board.

Now, in the never-ending void that was Professor Weasley’s lectures, Sebastian tore a corner off the ancient copy of Transfiguring the Tedious in front of him and scrawled on the paper with his quill. He slid it along the table to her hand and bumped it against her pinky. The pinky surreptitiously rose to slide the scrap under her palm, her eyes never leaving the demonstration at the front of the class. It was so subtle that he would have hardly believed she’d received his note if they hadn’t practiced this fine art of espionage about ten times already that period.

She opened the note under their desk and read what he’d written. Please, if you’ve any humanity, you’ll kill me and save me from this torture. Her lips immediately pressed together hard to contain a snort. She moved the paper back to the top of the desk and jotted down a response. When the paper landed in Sebastian’s lap, he glanced down.

And leave me here to endure it all alone? I think not, birdie.

Birdie. Birdie, as in, should have been a Ravenclaw; birdie, as in, his favorite thing in the world to be called. Whenever his peppering questions regarding her whereabouts during the day or what she did over the summer break (out in the Highlands exploring and assisting and digging and Merlin knows what else!) caused her to throw down a book with a huff or break into a sweet, clear laugh, she would cry, “Enough, birdie! I swear I’ll get that dodgy old hat to put you where you belong!”

Sebastian couldn’t recall when she’d gone from being an interesting new classmate with a secret she kept under her cloak to the reason he was excited to wake up in the morning. At some point, while they grew closer and he had shared his anxieties and fears for Anne, he had realized that he did not want her to bump elbows and waggle eyebrows at that Weasley kid when she passed him in the hall. He had realized around the same time that he did not want Poppy Sweeting to be the one who took her to Hogsmeade every weekend to giggle over butterbeers.

The pieces of this puzzle slowly continued to arrange themselves over the years, such as that time in Crossed Wands when she had knelt before his crouched body to make sure the gash on his eyebrow wasn’t too deep. She gripped his forearm to steady them both and hissed when she saw the damage to his freckled forehead. “Come here,” she had murmured, and Sebastian was sure that the stone floors were going to open up and swallow him whole as she lightly traced her wand over the cut and it healed into a dark line. “I think it suits you.”

“I was looking a bit too soft anyway, don’t you think?” He chuckled, touching the healed scar.

“If it still hurts tomorrow, I’ll kiss it for you.”

As he rose back to his feet, his brain wanted him to shout “Can I have that in writing?!” but instead he opted for the much more suave option: “I can kiss it myself just fine.”

He ought to have sealed his own mouth permanently with the binding curse.

The point was, he finally drew the conclusion that he was madly in love with this woman, for she really had blossomed from a somewhat timid new fifth-year student into a self-assured and confident (not to mention talented and brilliant) young woman. It made Sebastian’s heart glad to watch this transformation over the years. The only thing that could make his heart gladder, he was sure, would be her hand in his.

In an act of blissful mercy, Professor Weasley ended her lesson at the appointed time she always did. “And remember!” She called shrilly over the din of twenty 18-year-olds rushing to shove books into bags and be done with thinking for the day, “Bird transfiguration will figure heavily into the N.E.W.T.s, so practice as much as you can! I have picnic baskets available for those who wish to borrow them.”

“Are you gonna take one?” Sebastian asked the witch to his left, who was sweeping her parchment and quills haphazardly into her leather satchel.

“No, I don’t think I need to practice much. I’ve already got my own little birdie.” Then she actually pinched his cheek in her fingers. Sebastian’s skin turned bright red at the contact, and his insides took flight in an awkward but not uncomfortable way at her words: My own little…

Was she trying to kill him? This had to be the flirting that Ominis insisted was always occurring between the two of them. Usually, Sebastian had no problem at all recognizing and reciprocating attention from the opposite sex, but something about this particular witch made his head go mushy as the mud they avoided as they walked across the courtyard, robes pulled up over their head to avoid the downpour as they dashed towards the Great Hall.

Her affectionate nickname did sometimes feel like a deflection on her part, an attempt to infantilize him into a permanent position of friendship. He couldn’t bring himself to care though, quite frankly. He adored hearing it so much, although only from her lips. As they splashed through the courtyard, he recalled the time Imelda, hoping to goad him during Quidditch practice, had shouted “Come ON, birdie, and FLY, dammit!” He’d sent a bludger straight at his team’s captain, causing her to careen off course with a fresh string of obscenities.

And down, deep down, buried in the depths of the shameful part of Sebastian that held all guilt and impurities, he wanted nothing more than to hear that nickname leave her mouth in a gasp as their bodies pressed together in his empty dormitory. His shame at this well-visited fantasy was not eclipsed by his desire for her, however, and he far too frequently found himself rushing back to his bed after their shared classes and repeating her sweet words to himself as he tugged his pants down and slid the curtains of his four-poster shut. He hoped today’s rain might cleanse him of his sins just a bit, because that old routine was currently all he had planned for the evening.

Once they found shelter inside, robes still dripping and hair plastered to their forehead, his friend turned to him. “I’m drenched,” she said cheerfully. Even though it was true, she still looked a vision, her bright eyes shining in the low light and smile always in place. “I’m going to go change before dinner…say, are you still flying Imelda?” She glanced back outside at the deluge. “For your sake, I hope not.”

Sebastian put his hand to his heart, feigning offense. “Are you insinuating that I couldn’t beat the most Quidditch-obsessed witch in the school just because of a little rain?” She pursed her lips, and he could tell she was about to fire back with a witty reply; he felt his head swim a little, as it always did when they bantered back and forth, possibly resulting in a playful shove or tweaked nose that he would think about for hours later.

Suddenly, the Quidditch-obsessed witch in question came barreling around the corner, eyes fiery, and yelled, “Sallow! Outside, now!” Sebastian groaned, partly because he most certainly did not want to race Imelda right now, and partly because the girl he’d much rather be spending time with gave him a wink and departed to her dormitory with a muttered “Good luck, birdie.”

When he trudged into the Great Hall an hour later, sopping from head to toe and more mud than man at this point, he caught her eye at the dinner table and dropped his broom unceremoniously on the ground. She got up to fuss over him as he plopped down beside her and began eating everything in sight.

“Did you–?”

“Does it look like I did?” he grumbled around a mouthful of chicken.

“It looks like you challenged the ground to a race and lost, my dear.”

He may as well have. The second Samantha had blown the whistle to start the race, Imelda had taken off like a perfect missile of pure speed, whipping through the hoops at the other end of the field before Sebastian could even kick off. From there, well…he decided it might save him a small bit of face if he told her he only fell off his broom once.

“Poor thing, poor thing!” She tutted, brushing the grimy locks of hair from his forehead. The food Sebastian was swallowing got caught in his throat at the contact and he choked. Ominis got up from his position on the other side of this accidental seductress and whacked Sebastian hard on the back without looking up from the copy of the Daily Prophet he was running his wand over. Once the food made its way safely to his stomach, Sebastian cleared his throat.

“I’m a mess, I ought to go clean up,” he said. Truthfully, he knew he needed a wash to clean his body, but his trousers were also becoming tighter and tighter the longer he spent with her. He needed some time in a hot bath with nothing but his thoughts.

She smiled and swiped a line of dirt from his cheek. There was no other explanation–she was trying to kill him. His pulse hammered every time they touched, and especially hard when–

“Dirty birdie,” she giggled, and it was too much for him. Sebastian shoved back the bench he was sitting on and clambered haphazardly to his feet.

“I’m going to go, er, to, uh, the–see you later!”

He all but ran from the Great Hall, barely pausing to snatch his broom from where he’d left it. Merlin’s beard, this was getting out of hand. He wanted to spend time with her, but at the rate things were going, all his thoughts would be consumed with the idea of getting her naked and he doubted he’d make for a very good friend then. Adventurous and devil-may-care as she was, she was still a lady, after all. His uncle hadn’t taught him much, but he’d taught him how to respect a woman, and no part of that instruction had included zoning out mid-conversation with that woman and wondering if she cried when she came. Or if he could make her.

“Pull yourself together, pull yourself together,” he grunted as he made his way to the dungeons and told the ornate silver snake at the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory the password it required. Imelda was standing in the common room, engaged in telling the story of Sebastian’s spectacular fall(s), but he didn’t even stop to acknowledge when she called, “And there’s the man himself, the Miraculous Mud-Eater!” He blew past her and the gaggle of Slytherins gathered around the fire, all chuckling at his appearance. Their words fell on deaf ears. The only words ringing around Sebastian’s increasingly empty head were, “My own little birdie…my own little dirty…”

He closed his eyes and swayed on the stairs, gripping the bannister for support. The erection that had been encroaching since Transfiguration was close to blinding him with desire by now. Banging open the door to the seventh-year dormitory, he ignored whomever said, “Alright, Seb?” and snatched up the bath towel flung over his trunk. Then, he was out of the common room as quickly as he’d entered it.

The nearest bathroom was only a hallway away from the Slytherin dorm, but no one ever used it. Ice cold was the only water temperature available for a bath, and the stone floors were somehow permanently covered in a layer of frost, due to the position of the dungeons underneath the Black Lake. Sebastian sprinted past the door, then skidded to a halt. Perhaps freezing and dingy was alright if it meant quiet and empty, too.

Leaning back against the cold granite of the bathtub, Sebastian finally let out a long sigh. The water had practically given him frostbite when it first came out of the faucet, but after far too long a while, it had warmed to a humane temperature, and he used his wand to heat it until it actually felt good to strip and slide into it. His muddy clothes lay in a heap next to the tub, long forgotten. All that mattered to Sebastian now was the feeling of his hand wrapping around his aching cock and the thought of her voice, sweet and clear and sinful as hell.

It always started the same way. On his first stroke, he conjured the image of her healing his cut in Crossed Wands, only in this version, he actually acted on his instincts and pulled her in by her neck for a searing kiss. Naturally, in this perfect little fantasy, she melted into him with a moan every time, and suddenly, the dueling stage was gone, and the two of them were crashing into an empty classroom and making out furiously. Sebastian pictured the feeling of her, desperate and needy for him, hopping up onto a desk so she could wrap her legs around his waist and grind against him.

A whimpered and whiny “Fuck, fuck, fuck” left his lips as he tipped his head back against the cold floor. The hand that he wasn’t using steadied him against the bathtub stairs, foamy soap drifting around him and cleaning the dirt from his body. He wondered absently, fucking his hips into his hand, what she looked like when she took a bath. Her clothes falling away, the sight of her ass as she slowly descended into the tub, and the soapy water running down her tits.

Sebastian was a tit man, through and through, and this latest imagined pornography had him tipping dangerously close to the edge. As he stroked himself harder and faster, water pulsating gently around him, he pictured her swimming over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck (the scent of her hair from when she’d done the same in the library filled his brain). “Little birdie,” she was whispering, and Sebastian swore he could almost taste and feel her. “Aren’t you curious about what it feels like to fuck me?”

Merlin’s fucking sake, of course he was! Back in reality, he swore and groaned as he neared his precipice. A full day of aching for this woman should have had him on the edge of coming almost instantly, but he slowed his hand just for a moment, wanting to savor the idea of her. Her, who he was most definitely sickly in love with, even though she’d had two other relationships since her time here and never expressed interest in him in any other way than friendly ribbing.

“Oh, baby, Go-oood,” he whined under his breath, because now, in the bathtub of his dream, she was straddling his cock and sinking onto it, her heat wrapped around him like the most perfect silk glove. Then she was moving, bouncing up and down with her arms still clutching his neck and whimpering his name over and over.

“Seb, Seb, it feels so-s-soo–fuck!” she cried, and Sebastian wished more than anything that his hands were digging into her hips instead of his own as he bit back a groan and panted. Her tits, heaving in front of his face, looked so marvelous that he couldn’t stop his imaginary self from leaning forward and catching a nipple between his teeth. The scream that tore from her lips at the sensation was enough to make him come, and the realization that she’d probably be clamped down on his cock like a vice actually did.

He let out a hoarse cry, his vision leaving him for a moment, and then his sticky load was being spurted into the water. The relief felt almost better than the orgasm itself, tense as he had been all day.

He really needed to pull himself together in regards to this witch.

After he’d regained the ability to think, speak, and move, Sebastian finished his bath as if nothing at all had happened. He quickly vanished his cum from the water so that he could dip below the surface to wash his hair. As he scrubbed his skin with a sponge from the massive carved wooden cabinet that held the bath supplies, the guilt started seeping back in. She was his friend, and that was all, and that was clearly all she wanted. In the wake of finally coming, the words “little birdie” seemed more condescending than sweet. There was no romance behind them; she clearly saw him the same way she saw that first-year Hufflepuff who’d given her a single flower with shaking hands and nearly vomited while asking her to go to the Yule Ball with him. She’d given a very polite, “How sweet you are!” then explained with mock regret that she would be away for the holidays, and would not be able to attend with him.

That was Sebastian: a hapless little boy in love with a girl who was too kind to say anything about it. He mentally added three more layers of clothes to her as he thought of her, out of respect.

When he rose out of the water and looked to where he’d placed his clean pajamas, he saw with a lurch that he hadn’t put his clean pajamas anywhere. A moan of horror escaped him when he pictured them where they actually were: at the bottom of his trunk. In his haste to get in here and rub one out to the thought of his friend, he’d forgotten to grab them.

The only fabric available to him were the muddied and disgusting robes he’d raced in, or the towel currently wrapped around his waist. Sebastian glanced out the bathroom window. The moon over the Black Lake was high in the sky, and his shoulders drooped a little in relief at the thought that most everyone ought to be in bed right now, and he wouldn’t have to walk half-naked through a packed common room.

Dirty robes safely in the laundry hamper, Sebastian secured the towel around his waist as best he could before poking his head down the hall. It was deserted, the only audible sound the soft whoooosh of the draining bathtub behind him. He exhaled, stepped into the hall, and began half-walking, half-running towards the Slytherin dormitories, leaving wet footprints in his wake.

He had almost made it to safety when the last, the absolute last voice he wanted to hear on the planet, yelped, “Oops!” from behind him. Whirling on the spot, mere feet away from the dormitory door, he locked eyes with his girl.

“What on earth are you doing down here?!” He scream-whispered in indignation, clutching the towel tightly around his waist Her eyes were the size of dinner plates, taking in his tousled wet hair, bare torso that was not at the physical peak he wished it was, and the thin grey towel that was threatening to slide further south at any minute. “It’s the middle of the damn night!”

“I-I’m…” This was his worst nightmare. Getting caught quite literally with his pants down and the girl of his dreams was stifling laughter at the sight. He turned away from her, determined to lock himself inside the dormitory and never come out. Maybe if he took a draught of living death he could sleep for the rest of the term.

“Seb, hang on!” she laughed, darting towards him as he told the snake his password and lifted a leg to try and clamber inside. He paused and looked back at her, if only because he wasn’t really sure how he was going to gracefully lift himself with only a towel around his waist. “I sent you an owl but never heard back!” she said. “There’s leftover cherry tart in the kitchens from dinner, and I snuck you some.” She held out the tart and his heart twisted into a knot. His favorite. The fantasies he’d made up about her mere minutes ago now seemed doubly inappropriate as he saw the real thing, clad in an innocent nightgown and thick wooly robe.

“Oh. Thanks.” He took the dessert. They both stood motionless for a second. She was tactfully looking everywhere except at his body. Sebastian prayed for death. “Well, I’m naked, so–”

“Right! I’m sorry! You just darted out of dinner so fast…” She trailed off. Sebastian grunted noncommittally and readjusted his grip on the towel. His head was starting to sweat from embarrassment. “Well, good night, anyway,” she said, trying to muster an awkward smile.

“Good night,” He responded through gritted teeth. “Thanks again for this, it looks great.” With that, he turned around and clambered very clumsily, but fully covered, through the dormitory door.

As he lay in bed that night, Sebastian replayed the whole fiasco in his head a hundred times. He wondered what she thought of what she saw, or if she would discuss it with anyone. It wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned her seeing him nude for the first time. She certainly didn’t seem impressed. And he’d been so rude to her, when all she’d done was bring him a treat.

He covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. “Shut up,” huffed Ominis from the bed next to him. He was a light sleeper and the slightest sound could stir him.

“Give me one of your sleeping potions.”

“Fine, if it’ll knock you out so I don’t have to.”

Sebastian got out of bed and quietly opened the trunk at the foot of Ominis’ bed, feeling around for the small cylindrical bottles the Gaunt boy always kept on-hand for sleepless nights. He found one, uncorked it, and drained the contents.

He had just stumbled back into bed, the effects of the potion working through his blood immediately and making his eyes heavy as boulders, when he noticed a small piece of paper on the windowsill by his bed. Undoubtedly, this was from the owl she had sent him. He managed to throw one leaden arm up to snatch it and bring it an inch away from his eyes so he could make out the delicate writing in the near-darkness of the bedroom

A little birdie told me he liked cherry tart, so I saved him some. I’ll bring it to you in a bit.

Sleep overtook him.

Back in her own bedroom, the letter writer lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling. She hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought all night. Poppy had asked her what was wrong, why she was being so quiet. She had shrugged and gone off to bed, but the lingering ache persisted between her legs.

Had Sebastian Sallow always been that fucking gorgeous?

pt. 2

masterlist

#i'm so super rusty so pls forgive thx <3 #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fic #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #laneywrites

689 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 8 months

Text

basement noise * fem!driver

logan starts to feel a little left out

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hey surpRISE AND EARLY UPDATE WAHOOOO i'm trying to finish up her 2023 year before i start moving onto her 2024 season <3

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

logan stares at the unanswered text message in their group chat, clicking his tongue as he glances at the time at the corner of his phone screen. it’s been an hour since he sent his text message.

he’s not saying his friends are ignoring him, but it is slowly starting to seem that way. his call time to the paddocks isn’t as early as theirs and that’s why they’ve arrived way before him.

he sighs. since the season had begun, it hasn’t been easy to integrate himself into the grid unlike his two other friends. oscar’s gotten along with lando and is doing great with his team. meanwhile she’s done exceptionally well, and even if she wasn’t, max and some of the older drivers seem to have taken quite the liking to her.

which shouldn’t be all that surprising to him. she had already found herself a new group of friends even before the season had started. from the kickstart of the pre-season testing, max had already paraded her around like he was a proud older brother.

sure, he has alex. by default. because they are teammates. but realistically, alex will always find himself preferring george’s company to his. they’re best friends, after all.

logan presses his lips together as the team car slowly comes to a stop right outside the paddocks. he glances at benny, focused on his own phone, texting his wife.

so he just keeps to himself as he alights the car. hopefully, he’s kept busy enough this weekend not to notice the distance that might go unnoticed by his friends, but is very prominent for him.

just as he walks through the gantries into the paddocks, he watches the smaller girl walk past him unknowingly, engaged in serious conversations with marta and susie. she’s turned the other way, so she doesn’t even notice him.

when he approaches the livelier areas of the paddocks, noticing oscar walking around with lando. oscar does notice him, smiling at him politely before he makes a sharp turn into the mclaren garage.

logan just sighs again, navigating his way to the williams garage with a weight in his chest.

“i’ll see you again later before your race! i promise!” she shouts, waving her arms in the air as she leaves susie and marta. she runs through the paddocks, truthfully unaware of where she is heading.

when sebastian had asked her to meet him somewhere, it could be anywhere in the paddocks. it could very easily well be at the aston martin home where fernando is hanging out, or their own.

she feels around in her pockets for her phone, halting in the middle of the crowd. she turns around, ready to chase susie to ask if she’d left her phone in her office by chance. but she can vividly remember where she left it in her driver’s room right before she bolted out, late for a lunch date with some of the drivers from the f1 academy.

she clicks her tongue, picking up her feet to start running again. she hears max calling out for her but she’s late, from what she can tell.

if only she was better at restraining herself from staying extra minutes just to hear the latest paddock gossip over lunch. but she couldn’t help herself as she increasingly got invested, giggling in her mind about how she’s going to tell logan everything in the evening when they leave the paddocks to get ice cream.

she arrives at the aston martin home, chest heaving as she approaches the one person loitering outside the building. “lance!”

the canadian whirls around at the call of his name with wide eyes, shocked that the younger girl is calling for him. yes, he is terrified of her, but that’s a story for another time.

“yes?”

“has my race engineer been kidnapped by your grandpa?” she asks, hands on her hips and slightly hunched over as she tries to catch her breath.

“my,” lance takes a deep breath, “grandpa?”

“fernando. has fernando kidnapped my race engineer? he told me to meet him, but i don’t know where.”

lance presses his lips into a thin line. “have you tried texting him?”

she sighs, shaking her head. “no, i left my phone in my room. i don’t have the time to go and get it.”

“oh!” lance perks up, reaching into his back pocket and offers it to her. “here, you can use my phone.”

she mutters a soft thank you as she takes the phone into her hands, navigating lance’s contact list. she raises an eyebrow and looks at him. “you saved my number as grid princess? really?”

“we all have your number saved as that.”

“i-“ she shakes her head, finding for the number she needs. “not important.”

she presses the phone to her ear as it rings, hoping that sebastian answers his phone. hopefully he’s not as forget as her.

“lance?”

“no.”

“you sound different, lance.”

“seb! it’s me! i left my phone in my room.”

“oh, (y/n)!” there’s a pause. “why are you using lance’s phone?”

“i can’t find you,” she mutters, shaking her head in shame as lance watches her. “tell me where you are or i’ll be even later for our meeting. was it over a cup of coffee or what?”

“coffee. come quick.”

“come on, mate.” logan stares at alex blankly, watching the older driver tug at his hand towards the door of his room. “you’ve got to join us for a snack. george is buying food.”

“i don’t feel like eating,” logan mutters, retracting his arm immediately. he lies on the massage table of his room, moving his hand under his head. “go without me.”

“i can’t!” alex frowns. “your best friend told me to take care of you. i can’t grab food and leave you here by yourself.”

logan shrugs. “if you’re only inviting me because she told you to, i don’t wanna go.”

“what?” alex tilts his head. “no, george asked me to bring you! we’re sneaking out of the paddocks for a bit to get food! come on! the local food here is amazing.”

“i don’t want to go.”

“logan.”

“alex?”

“i’m telling james you’re locking yourself inside your room again. he won’t be happy.”

logan looks at alex without moving his head, the glare shooting daggers at the older driver. alex raises his eyebrows with a small smile, never having seen this emotion in the rookie.

“i don’t care if you tell him.”

“fine, be that way,” alex sighs dejectedly. he doesn’t want to use more names as a bargaining chip, but it seems that he will have to resort to exactly that. “i’ll just tell oscar and (y/n) you’re being like this.”

logan scoffs, dropping his phone by his head. he breathes out exasperatedly and rolls to lie on his back. “as if they’d care.”

alex, already halfway to the door, stops in his tracks and turns around. “mate,” he trails off softly, “what do you mean by that?”

“it’s so obvious,” logan sighs again, turning to face the wall. “she’s always with max or whoever. i’m alone.”

“i’m here with you right now.”

logan furrows his eyebrows. that’s not what he means. alex probably knows that too. “i just wanna be alone right now, alex. i’m sorry.”

“oh, okay. i’ll bring you something back.”

logan turns around quickly, chasing for alex’s presence. “alex, wait.”

alex turns around just as before he is able to close the door. he’s hopeful that logan would join him and george for some food — the rookie often spending time with his two best friends means that he doesn’t get many opportunities to get to know him outside of team content and meetings.

“don’t tell them i said that, okay?” he sighs before looking down to avoid the curious brown eyes. “i don’t want them knowing i feel that way.”

alex hums. sometimes he sees his younger self in the rookie. the rookie’s often introverted demeanour makes it very easy to sympathise with him, especially when he had a rough couple of years in another team all by himself. he knows what it feels like.

perhaps what logan needs is space. hopefully he opens up soon, and then alex can finally put his mind to rest with some reassurance. because it’s not like his performance is helping him out with his confidence. he’s been there, done that.

“okay,” alex nods. “your secret’s safe with me.”

lando hums, looking around the paddocks. his eyes lands on his teammate, who is simply staring off blankly at the grandstand as he chews away on his sandwich.

“what?” oscar asks monotonously, still looking ahead with his eyes half open. he’s sunk into the small seat situated at the edge of their garage with his leg over the other. “i can feel you looking at me, mate. what is it?”

“oh,” lando says softly, chuckling to himself. he sinks into his own seat and turns away to take a bite from his own sandwich. “nothing. i was just wondering where dumb and dumber are.”

he sees oscar perk up with realisation, turning to look at him slowly. his eyebrows are furrowed at the sheer realisation of what’s been missing the entire day. he lets out a soft “ah” before he turns to look at the grandstand again. “i don’t actually know. we’ve been so busy today — i hadn’t even noticed.”

the older driver laughs, nodding along. “yeah, we only get busier from here, mate. i haven’t texted max back still. actually, i don’t even know where my phone is.”

oscar laughs, licking his lips. “neither do i. i barely even got to have a 5 minute phone call with lily this morning. i had to leave so early.”

“just one more interview and we’re free,” lando sighs, shaking his head. truthfully, he’s grown quite tired too. for someone like him, running out of energy to be talking to everyone doesn’t come often. but it feels like the day is finally getting the best of him.

he’s simply dreading the next interview they’ve got. he doesn’t know how many more fake laughs and forced smiles he’s got within himself. he doesn’t want to do small talk anymore. he just wants to head back to the hotel and get some sleep for what friday has to bring them.

“getting ice cream with the powerpuff girls tonight?”

oscar laughs with a simple nod. “of course. she’s not going to let a weekend by where we don’t try some local ice cream.”

“alright, good meeting,” sebastian grins at her, slowly closing his laptop. “so you know what to do this weekend, kid? confident you’ll score some points?”

“of course,” she laughs with a small nod. “i’m ready to tackle the weekend.”

sebastian stands up, holding the laptop against his chest. “good! so, where are you headed to now?”

she smiles. “hopefully off to take a shower and start getting ready for my ice cream date with the boys.”

“ah! exciting,” sebastian grins. “well i’ve got one more meeting. you’ll be okay on your own?” she nods. “okay, well, if you leave before my meeting ends, let me know, alright?”

“of course!” she beams with a grin. she spots a familiar shade of blue across the paddocks, beaming when she spots logan in the crowd of williams personnel. she tries to push past sebastian, who’s now opening the door, and attempts to dart out to stop logan for a quick conversation to confirm their ice cream date that evening. before she can make it to the top of the steps, another familiar face pops up in front of her with a wide smile.

sebastian greets max before quickly excusing himself, leaving the girl with the older driver. “hi?”

“hi!” max greets her with an excited wave. “are you busy? i need your help.”

she opens her mouth, deciding her answer as she peeks over his shoulder. she answers with a soft ‘yeah’ as she watches the crowd of blue walking away and disappearing from her sight. “what is it?”

“we’re going to the uk for a vacation this summer and p’s coming along with us. i wanna plan something — she really wants to meet you.”

logan sighs to himself, leaning up against the railing of the stairs leading up to the andretti racing home. he looks around the paddocks and then glances down at his phone for the time. everybody is late. could it be possible that plans were cancelled without him knowing?

could it be that her and oscar agreed to call raincheck without remembering to let him know? which would them simply confirm his suspicions that he is slowly losing his best friends.

but there’s no other time but tonight to get ice cream together. unless she’s planning to get it with somebody else? he huffs to himself and pushes himself off the railing to start his journey back to his hotel room for a lonely night. that was, until he hears a voice calling out to him.

“oh, logan! are you waiting for her? why don’t you come in and sit down while you wait?” sebastian smiles, letting the door close behind him. he walks down the steps, immediately noticing the sadder aura around the boy.

sure, he knows that logan is typically soft spoken by himself, but he believes that he knows logan well enough now that he is comfortable being himself. “is something wrong? the media picked you apart again today, kid?”

logan looks up and quickly shakes his head. he rubs the back of his neck and hisses softly. “no, it’s not that,” he laughs sheepishly, trying to ignore the heavy weight on his chest. “have my plans been cancelled, seb? did i not know?”

maybe he should try opening up to sebastian? if anyone knows what it’s like falling out with a friend, sebastian is definitely one of those people, right?

he watches sebastian process his words. he immediately regrets opening up to him. “ah, forget it.”

“no, no! i’m glad you’re opening up to me,” sebastian snaps out of his trance and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “i’m not judging you. i get it. are you feeling okay?”

logan shrugs with a soft frown. “i don’t know. just a little weird — my text in the group chat from this morning’s still unanswered.”

sebastian stares at him, trying to come up with the words to try and make him feel better. until it hits him. “oh! is that what you’re concerned about?” sebastian laughs, pulling logan into his side for a hug. “she wasn’t ignoring you! she left her phone in her driver’s room and never had the time to go back in to get it. we were riddled with interviews and meetings all day. then max hijacked her early in the evening to plan something with penelope.”

logan looks at him, skeptism written all over his face. “are you serious?”

“i’m serious, kid,” sebastian confirms with a firm nod. “and i ran into oscar and lando earlier. they were super busy too. oscar even told me he can’t wait to finally sit back and relax with you guys at the ice cream parlour.”

as if on cue, oscar pops up from the corner of the racing home with his bag lazily strung over his shoulder. “why are you guys hugging?”

sebastian frowns. “what’s wrong with that?”

oscar shakes his head, blinking rapidly. “nothing, i suppose.” he rubs his eyes and groans. “i’m just a little tired, probably. i can’t wait to get some ice cream.”

logan feels the weight slowly lifting from his chest. logan slumps his shoulders slightly with a grin. he tries to confirm sebastian’s allegations. “i haven’t seen you all day, mate. busy day?”

“busiest i’ve had in a while,” oscar yawns, covering his mouth. “i haven’t even gotten to talk to lily at all today.”

the door swings open with a loud shriek, their body suddenly knocked back by a body throwing itself against them. he looks down in shock at the smaller girl who has her arms thrown around his and oscar’s bodies. “hey!”

she hops back excitedly, hair pulled back into a new hairstyle. “ice cream?” she nods excitedly at logan and then she turns to oscar, repeating the question.

oscar throws his head back with a laugh. he wraps an arm around her shoulder, and smiles. “of course. i’ve been looking forward to ice cream with you guys all day.”

sebastian finally steps away from him with a small smile and a thumbs-up. he returns the gesture, his warm smile finally putting the older man at ease. it would be a shame to watch a friendship as genuine and great as theirs fall apart. as much as he can, he would like to make sure that their authenticity never ever leaves them.

“come on! i wanna go and walk around town after we get ice cream,” she shrieks, reaching out to pull logan along with her. she glances at sebastian. “would you like to join us, seb?”

sebastian laughs, politely declining her offers. “i just want to take a nap after the day we’ve had.”

she nods, wrapping an arm around logan’s torso as they start to walk to the exit of the paddocks. “which one of you’s driving tonight? cause it’s definitely not me.”

“i’ll drive,” logan nods willingly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a soft squeeze. “i heard you left your phone in your room all day. how’d you survive being apart from your phone for that long?”

she throws her head back with a groan. “barely! i can’t believe i went the whole day without chatting with you guys!”

oscar scoffs. “clingy.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @happy-nico @namgification @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @inejismywife @2bormaybenot @love4lando

#logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

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libraryofloveletters · 8 months

Text

chapter eight: lucky doesn't cover it

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: honeymoon stage, seb is so cheesy and soooo touchy, it's like two teenagers in love really, nsfw themes but nothing graphic, suggestions to sex and nsfw content, liv and millie are so sus of you two, the lies are catching up to you two, secrets are told, family sweetness. - this is low-key a filler chapter, I have drama next chapter *smiles evilly*

Word Count: 3.1k

Author’s Note: sorry for the 4 million year wait, y'all know I love me some seb so hopefully this makes up for the lack of seb lately. don't blame me, tell that man to come out of hiding again!

sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist

---

It has been a few weeks since your first date with Sebastian and things were going well, beyond well actually. You couldn't have asked for a better version of things to unfold.

The two of you had begun dating but decided to keep things quiet, especially from Olivia and Amelia. Neither of you wanted to complicate things for the girls, wanting to keep things as they were in case it didn't work between you two, god forbid.

Liv and Milly were currently in the pool at your place, you had brought lunch out onto the back deck and Sebastian was keeping an eye on them while they were in the pool. The door creaks, Seb glances over his shoulder to see you coming out with a pitcher of juice, setting it down on the table with the food you had brought out moments before.

You leant over slightly, pouring some juice into the cups for the girls when your knee brushes against Seb's thigh. His black shorts left his legs on display and typically, you'd regard his legs as just.. legs but something about Sebastian was different now, you weren't sure if it was because now he was your man or if you had been so pent up and now that you'd getting a chance to release it, it's hitting you at once.

Seb's forearm lays on the arm rest, fingers creeping up the back of your thigh to the hem of your shorts. Almost leaning into his touch, Olivia's voice pulls you from the thoughts in your head.

"Is lunch ready, mama?!" She shouts from the pool.

Clearing your throat, you nod. "Yeah!" You reach behind to swat Seb's wandering hand away, throwing him a glare as you pick up the towels and walk over to help the girls out of the pool.

The man watches as you wrap the towels around the girls, sending them off in the direction of the table to eat and he can't help but smile; how did he ever get so lucky ?

Olivia and Amelia sit across from Seb, the two of them joint at the hip like baby penguins waddling about. The only chair left was the one next to Seb, it had become your usual spot anyways.

The 4 of you chatted, the girls updated you both on class trips, projects and the drama between Susan B and Susan H. Seb was more intrigued than you as you had heard the rundown when you picked them up from school on Friday.

A warm hand rests on your thigh under the table, startling you momentarily. You look over to see if he was trying to get your attention, but he wasn't. "Does Susan B know that Susan H held Josh's hand on the playground?" He asked the girls, clearly caught up in the drama of second grade.

Amelia corrects him. "It was Susan H that held Josh's hand, dad. Susan B was boyfriend girlfriend with Josh first."

"And Susan B saw all of it happen while she was on the swings too," Olivia adds, making sure to emphasize on her words for dramatic effect.

You smile, shaking your head at the second grade drama as your hand rests atop Seb's, fingers interlocking over his. The man squeezes your thigh softly as his thumb rubs gently over your skin.

Lucky doesn't begin to cover it.

"Milly!" Olivia shouts, pulling on your hand as you locked the car. You see the blonde girl and her dad, both of their curls unruly and sparkling under the morning sunshine.

Amelia smiles, shouting back. "Liv!"

Sebastian lets his little girl when he sees you with Olivia, knowing you'd stop them from running into the busy parking lot. The two girls wrapped each other in a hug, Milly says good morning to you and you smile, saying it back. You followed closely behind them as you attempted to put Milly's hair into a ponytail while they walked, knowing they had gym class and having her hair in her face would bother her.

"Good morning, Mr. Seb!" Liv smiles at the man, Seb pinches her cheek softly. "Morning sweet pea," he says back with a smile.

The girls were whispering about something, perhaps the fact that Josh was giggling with Susan H today instead of Susan B. Seb nudges your shoulder, leaning into you slightly. "Morning you."

"Good morning Sebastian," you glance at him, knowing better than to start him up before he doesn't stop.

His hand rests on his chest, feigning hurt. "Sebastian? You wound me, woman."

"I try my best," you smiled, turning your head to look at him. Sebastian leans into you, his lips by your ear. “You look nice. I like your top,” he gestures to his chest, his fingers brushing over his sternum - just as he did months ago when you helped him with Milly's bedroom.

The action causes you to look down, your top had slipped a little bit when you grabbed Olivia's bag out of the car.

You roll your eyes, swatting his arm playfully before readjusting your shirt. "Behave, there are children here."

"There are children at home too, but we've done dirty things there too-" "Dad!" Milly shouts, getting her dad's attention. "Did you put my water bottle in my bag?"

"It's in your lunch bag, kiddo." He tells her, fixing the strap on her bag. "Now you two are gonna be late if you don't get your butts down to line up."

The girls hug each of you, switching to hug the other and then run off to line up for entry. You and Seb waved to them from the sidewalk before you head back to the parking lot, his hand resting on your lower back as you walk. HIs hand slipped lower and lower by the second until you stepped away.

Your back is against the pickup, looking at your boyfriend - that's such a funny term. You didn't think at your age, with a 7 year old kid that you'd have a boyfriend again. It seems unreal to you, both in a good way and a bad way.

"Do you have work today?" He asks, noticing you've taken the truck and not your car.

"Yeah, gotta drop by the construction site today."

"What time are you off?"

"Noon-ish probably, I hope. You know how it goes with them," you shrugged. Seb nods, "the girls are staying at school for lunch today, sooo... why don't you come by after you're done work?"

"Are you gonna cook me lunch then, Sebastian?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't a big cook but there were a few recipes that he had perfected and liked to make.

He shrugs, making a face. A hand resting behind your head, caging you in between him and the truck. "Figured we could order from your favourite Italian place."

"As nice as that sounds, you know how slow they are. It'll take them forever to deliver."

Sebastian's got a wicked grin on his face, something dirty on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be said. He leans in, lips by your ear. "There's a way we can pass the time."

If you hadn't gotten what he was suggesting before, his lips on your neck gave it away. "Sebastian!" You giggled, pushing him away. "Stop it before we get in trouble."

"We don't go to school here, it's fine."

"We have kids that go here though, and I have work. I need to go before you make me late."

"You're no fun," he tells you, pouting like a child as you get into the truck, your door still open as you look at him. "Stop pouting, you doofus. Come gimme a kiss so I can go," your hand stretched out for him.

Seb smiles, reaching up to give you a kiss before you let him go. "Have a good day, I'll see you after."

"Drive safe," you tell him, shutting the door. You wind down the window. "Not like a formula one driver!"

"I'll try my best!" He shouts, "no promises!"

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you pulled out of the parking lot.

Clothes scattered on the floor, your heels kicked off on the steps on the way up to Seb's bedroom and your purse long forgotten by the front door.

"C'mere," Seb grabs your arm, pulling your back flush against his chest. His warmth kept you snuggled into him, not wanting to move anytime soon.

"We really do need to get up."

"What for?" He asks, peppering kisses along your shoulder. You roll your eyes, "you ordered food and frankly, I'm starving."

"Yeah?" He says, you can sense the shit eating grin on his face. "Wonder why you're so hungry."

"Oh hush," you reach back, smacking his cheek softly. "I had work, don't think so highly of yourself."

Seb laughs, untangling himself from you when the doorbell rings. "As if you summoned them, honey." He pulls his shorts on, grabbing his wallet off of the nightstand.

You roll over, grabbing his hand. "I have to go," he tells you and you pout, making a face. Seb smiles, leaning down to kiss your head. "I'll be back in two seconds, and I'll have your chicken parm so you'll love me even more."

"Yeah," you chuckled, leaning back. "Fine."

Seb laughs, leaving you in bed to go get the delivery from the guy. You decided that pasta was too messy to eat in bed so you got dressed, meaning you borrowed Seb's shirt and made your way downstairs.

"Sleeping beauty emerges," he jokes and earns another eye roll from you. The two of you find your way to the kitchen, as you do most times, grabbing what you need before making your way to the table.

It was a very domestic scene; sitting at the table, eating as you discussed what the girls had in school that week. As if you had been married for years.

"I have to get dressed," you announce, getting up as Seb took the empty plates to the kitchen. "What for?" He glanced at you, rinsing the plates out to put them into the dishwasher.

"We have to pick up the girls."

"I'll pick them up, you rest."

"You're sure?" You asked and Seb nodded, "100%, you stay and relax." He kisses you softly, hands cupping your cheeks.

You smile and nod, following him to the door. "Where are you going?" Seb asks.

"I'm going to get dressed."

The man looks at you clearly confused, he had already told you to stay and relax and that he would pick up the girls.

"They can't come home to see me wandering around here in just your shirt, they don't need to see that."

"I do," he raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin on his face. "Sebastian behave," you groaned, rolling your eyes playfully at his childishness. He smiles, putting his hoodie on before grabbing his car keys.

"I'll see you when I'm back," he tells you, giving you a kiss before heading out.

The drive to the school was normal, 5 minutes and he's parked, waiting for the two girls to come out. The teacher sees Sebastian, waving to him as he signals that he's taking both Milly and Liv home today. It's nothing unusual that you and Seb take turns picking up the girls, it's just whoever was free or closer. Most times Seb picks them up as you're usually at work.

Milly's holding one of his hands and Liv is holding the other, the 3 of them walking back to his car. "Mr. Seb? Where's mom?" Liv asks him, the man looks at her puzzled for a moment.

"Uh she's at our place."

Milly and Liv exchange a confused glance as they climb into the car. "What's she doing there?" Milly asks her father, clearly curious.

"Well, she was running late on her way back from work so I told her I'd pick you guys up and meet her at home."

The answer seemed to curb their curiosity for the time being, Seb driving home with the girls. Your truck parked on the road as you were always certain you'd crash into Seb's car if you pulled into the driveway.

The girls were held expecting you to get out of the truck but Seb instead led them to the front door, unlocking it to let them in. "Hi girls!" You called, stepping out of the kitchen. You had gotten redressed while they were gone, much to Sebastian's dismay.

"Hi mama," Liv says, glancing at her best friend. "Mr. Seb said you were running late from work."

"I was," you tell her, glancing at Seb. The man shrugs from behind the girls as if to say he needed an excuse.

Milly or Liv seemed to be buying the lame ass excuse you and Seb - mostly Seb- came up with. "How'd you get inside?" Milly asks you, knowing her dad had just unlocked the front door.

This story wasn't adding up.

Seb clears his throat. "Why don't you two go get a snack, you can have candy if you want. There's Kit Kat in the pantry." He tells them, the girls drop their bags by the stairs and go running to the pantry.

You look behind you to make sure the girls are gone before walking over to Seb. "Really? I'm running late but I'm in the house? You couldn't come up with something better?" You whispered to him.

The man shrugged, "they're like mini detectives, all scary and judgey. I had to say something!" he whisper shouts to you, "we need to tell them."

"Already? It's too soon."

"We're together all the time, babe. I can't keep kissing you in secret." He says, a look feigning exhaust from the lack of kisses on his face.

You sigh, nodding. "Fine," your hand cups his cheek, kissing him softly. "Let's go."

"Girls?!" Seb calls for them, "can you come here? Y/n and I want to talk to you!"

The girls come in, chocolate on their faces and fingers. You grab a tissue and wrap their faces and hands as they sit on the couch, you and Seb are across from them on the other couch. "What is it?" Milly asks, looking between you and Seb.

"Well," you start, looking to see if Seb wants to speak but he signals for you to go ahead; typical men. "How would you two feel if.. Mr. Seb and I started.. well, seeing each other?" You asked them, the girls both have a confused look on their faces.

They exchange a glance, "what does that mean?" Milly asks, her brows furrowed; the splitting image of her father.

"It means they kiss!" Liv tells her, her hand over her mouth as she giggles. Milly makes a face. "Ew! Cooties!" She giggled, her and Olivia making faces at each other.

You and Seb exchange a look, trying not to laugh.

"It does mean we kiss," Seb says, "but it means we like each other."

"Like how we like each other?" Liv asks, "like best friends?"

"Sort of," Seb smiles, "it's more like when two grown-ups really like each other in a special way. They care about each other a lot, like how friends care about each other, but with even more love."

"So super duper best friends," Liv says, making you laugh.

"Basically, yeah. How do you guys feel about that?" You asked, not wanting to leave any stone unturned.

"Does this mean we're.. sisters?" Milly asks, "cause you're Liv's mom and you're my dad so you're mom and dad.."

"I guess," you say, looking at Seb for some help. "I mean, yeah. You are sisters."

The girls giggle, "cool!" They happen to say at the same time and get up, coming over to hug you and Seb. You smile, "we've got to head home, sweetheart. You can come by tomorrow if you want."

She makes a sad face but nods, her and Milly walking to the door to gather Liv's stuff when Seb pulls you up from the couch and into a hug. "See? Was that so hard?"

"Shut up," you huffed, the man laughed as you two walked to the front door.

You watch as the girls hug each other bye, Milly comes over to give you a hug and you lean down to hug her back. Seb kisses Liv's head before turning to you, giving you a kiss.

"Ew!" The girls chorus, making the two of you laugh.

You and Olivia head home, the two of you going about your evening. Liv does her homework while you worked on some work plans and emails, you had dinner together and then both of you did your night time routines before you joined her in her bedroom for story time.

"Mom?" Liv calls for you as you shut the book, setting it on her nightstand. "What is it, kiddo?"

"Does this mean Mr. Seb is my dad?" She asks, leaving you stumped.

You sit there for a moment, trying to figure out how you'd answer her question. "Well, no. He's not your actual dad but you can look at him like your dad if you want."

She nods. "Do I keep calling him Mr. Seb?"

"Yeah, I would think so."

Seb was in a similar situation at his place, Milly had begged him to watch her favourite cartoon instead of story time and Seb caved. The two of them on the couch when she turns to her dad. "If Liv and I are sisters, does this mean auntie y/n is my mommy now?"

It takes him a second to register the question. He can't say yes, because Milly did see pictures of her actual mother, but it's also not a no.

"In a way, yes. She's not your mommy but you can look at her like your mommy, she'll always be there for you."

Milly seemed satisfied with her father's answer, nodding as she turned her attention back to the tv.

---

taglist: @lighttsoutlewis @hc-dutch @laura-naruto-fan1998 @dubistweltmeistersv5 @kakorrhaphiphobia @myescapefromthislife @f1medlife @charles-dimple @hockeyshmockey @handsupforamiracle @ads-skywalker-leclerc @anicega @ship-slut @bigdicric @mysticalnightenthusiast @ellalovesvettel @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @coldheartedmar @koufaxx @alexander-hamilhoe @charlewiss @mistrose23 @mehrmonga @eclairmcqueen @consisedictionaryofmistakes @nyenye @callsign-scully @molliemoo3 @like-fire-love-blog @agentstarkid @rose-tinted-juls @lynnismypseudonym @gagaga167 @dreamycloudsworld @motorsp0rt @22yuki @renewing @pitconfirmbutton @anythingandeverything97 @gracesferrari @vitadimoda @woncloudie @raaaaabzzz @lunnnix @incontention @spanishgp @belledawnidk @whore8io @getourade @kickinganddriving

#sugar and spice; all things nice series #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x y/n #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 series #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 3 months

Note

Hi there, i feel like our spouse doesn't react much to all the magical weirdness on our farm

Can i get some hc for Sdv+sve spouses one day waking up and being able to see an army of juminos recolting crops (farmer have like 4/6 juminos huts and lots of crops)

And the farmer just say "oh you can finally see them" while giving the juminos some raisins.

Heya 👋 Thank you for your ask, dear anon! (and I apologize for taking a little longer to answer 😅).

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SDV/SVE bachelors:

Alex can't believe his own ears! Spirits? For real? No way! The athlete dropped everything and quickly walked over to one of the Junimo and started poking at them, causing the little creature to squeak. "Alex, don't be rude. At least offer them raisins first." "Oh, sorry..." But he can't help himself because... a real spirits!

"Hey hon, I made you coffee-" Stepping out onto the front porch of the farm house, Shane found an army of apples with eyes and arms and legs following Farmer around like little chickens following mama hen. With a "fuck this shit, I'm out" face, he walked back home, thinking it was all from lack of sleep.

Sam's eyes nearly popped out of his orbits when he saw Farmer surrounded by apple-like creatures that were jumping and reaching for the raisins in Farmer's hands. The guitarist approached his spouse with an obvious question, but his stomach rumbled treacherously. "Do you have any raisins left for me?" Breakfast first, question later.

"Huh." That was all Sebastian expressed as he treated Junimo to some raisins. This creatures kinda cute, actually. "Sebby, dear, didn't it surprise you at all?" *Sebastian looks at the huge slime hutch, the coop with void chickens, the giant golden clock and the four tall warp obelisks* "Nah, not really, why?"

Not believing his own eyes, Harvey wiped his glasses and looked again, but what he saw before him had not changed. Farmer was still standing over the strange leaf house, and the apple-like creatures were still jumping around them. The doctor felt a little uneasy. He wants to ask. At the same time, he doesn't want to ask anything, lest he break his mind completely.

At first Elliott couldn't understand why there were different apples lying around his spouse. Red, yellow, green... blue and purple? Until those apples had eyes, arms and legs. "Good morning, Elliott, did you sleep well?" Apparently not, because the writer feels that sleep deprivation is making him see some... jumping apples.

Why would Magnus be surprised by the existence of Junimo? In fact, he's the one who introduced Farmer to these creatures. Interest in how his spouse had made friends quickly with the forest spirits, yes, but surprised? He is a wizard, he'd seen more stranger things than that in his life.

Well, that.... explains why Farmer refused Victor's advice to hire some helpers for the farm. Turns out his beloved spouse already has helpers... Little, apple-like helpers. Victor knows magic exists, but he didn't think he'd see something like this in real life. This is great, actually. Very interesting.

Does Lance see Junimo? *Chuckle* Of course, dear Farmer, and not only does he see them, but he even managed to ask the little forest spirits a few questions. For a good portion of raisins, because they love this treat so much. When else would the gallant adventurer have a chance to chat with Junimos, hm?

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SDV/SVE bachelorettes:

It had been about half a minute, and Maru couldn't let go of the idea that what she was seeing was the work of magic, and not Farmer's little robotic assistants. Magic, spirits... No, that somehow doesn't fit in her head. She's determined to study these 'Junimos' to see who or what they are. Erm, if the Farmer and the creatures themselves don't mind, of course.

You know that state when you have a lot of conflicting emotions bubbling up inside you, you don't know how to react to your own cognitive dissonance about the "magic" that is right in front of your eyes, but you try to stay positive for the sake of the person you love? That's what Penny was experiencing when her spouse was showing her forest spirits.

"Oh, so cute!" Abigail has a bit of magic in her, so of course she can see Junimo too. She's in awe of these forest creatures! And they are such wonderful helpers, harvesting the crops. "My spouse pays you well, yeah?" And the little Junimos jump around happily with tasty raisins in their little hands.

"Eeew! What is tha- Ah, okay, at least it's not rats." Apparently Haley can excuse cute magical forest spirits, but she draws the line when it comes to rats. Because she's terrified of those rodents, yuck. Junimos at least help her beloved Farmer with work, and they smell like forest freshness.

Merciful Yoba! Emily felt the presence of someone's unusual aura, but she couldn't explain who it was coming from. It turned out that all the time the little apple-shaped creatures had been at the farm and had helped her spouse! Kind spirits, how wonderful! And they like raisins? Oh, she sure has a treat for her new forest friends!

Huh, when Leah mentioned that Stardew Valley is "full of magic," she meant that it's full of inspiration for her future works, not literally... Oh, well. Yes, strange little creatures live with her and Farmer, so what? They're cute, kind, and hard-working. Great neighbours (not like she had when she lived in the Zuzu City).

Olivia thought all week that there were a bunch of mice running around the farm, stealing the ripe wheat. After expressing their fears to Farmer that their crops might be destroyed by pests, Farmer showed their wife that it wasn't mice, but little helpers, Junimos, who live there. ...She need a glass of wine. Maybe two.

"Oh, do you see them too, dear?" To be honest, Claire would rather not see them. Not that she minded the cute, erm, creatures, just... Eh, you know what? Why should she be surprised at all? There are so many unusual things and creatures (golden chickens, slimes) on her spouse's farm that there's no point in her being surprised.

Sophia was stuck somewhere between the "Adorable lil apples!" and "Eeeeep! What is that?!" when she saw her spouse surrounded by a dozen magical Junimos. The pink-haired girl floods Farmer with questions and tries to take pictures of the forest creatures on her phone, to show Scarlett (only they've scattered now, awww!)

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moonstruckmoony · 4 months

Text

LATE MERMAY POST - Because last month my job was very hectic and this weekend happens to be June already 😔

I wrote a quick small drabble below that goes with this drawing, enjoy

SharkMerman!Sebastian x IceBettaMermaid!Winter (MC) ❄️🩵🧜🏻‍♂️🧜🏻‍♀️

Sebastian is a magical shark merman that loves exploring new places and has a voracious appetite for adventure. While exploring the Greenland Sea, he encountered and fell in love with Winter, a rare mythical species of Betta mermaid that could live in icy seawater. He discovered after talking with her that there are currently only three of these Betta merfolks in the entire Arctic ocean, including her.

He could only see her a couple of times a week because his body could not withstand the icy temperature and his self-warming spell could only last for a day. During the remainder of the time, he would have to return to his home in the Northern Atlantic Ocean.

When she first met Sebastian, Winter was enthralled with his vast knowledge and intellect, as well as his witty and charming attitude. He has a kind and loving heart, despite the fact that he could be rather crafty at times and his stubborn disposition occasionally left her shaking her head.

Sebastian adores her quirky personality and caring nature, and he became even more enamored with her when he discovered that she possesses both intelligence and curiosity that rivals his. And Merlin’s bloody tail, while he finds her beauty captivating, her desire for knowledge is as powerful and forceful as the Gulf Stream, and he’s a goner for her. When he comes to visit her place, they always spend time together, whether it's going on long swims exploring places or simply chatting for hours.

Driven by a desire to see each other frequently, he trained his body to become more tolerant of the cold while she increased her tolerance to warmer waters. He would teach her spells to keep her body chilly while he practiced his self-warming charms to last even longer than before.

Even though their training allowed them to spend days or even weeks together, their enchantment doesn't endure long enough for their liking.

Nevertheless, they are resolute to search for a way to remain together, indefinitely, without the use of their magic.

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I actually have more lore on this drabble involving Ominis and other characters but I'll leave it like this for now, indefinitely

EDIT: omg I TOTALLY FORGOT but I meant to give some credits! I eyeballed some poses (by floorsdelluna) and background (from this painting i found in pinterest)

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yan-lorkai · 1 year

Note

Hii, Lorks ~

Had see that your writing for my favorie earl now, have any hcs for older sibling reader and young brother Ciel? Sorry about bad english, is not my first language

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Been busy with uni stuff but nothing couldn't stop me from writing this now that inspiration strikes me and since we're having a new season I began to reread the manga these past few days and wow, I still love this lil dude. Look at his smiled he knows he's adorable. The Green Witch arc remains my favorite <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, platonic yandere, protectiveness.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You were a few years older than the twins, but you were very close to them as well as being a constant figure for them as they grew up. You were what they would describe as the best sibling in the world, even though you liked to make fun of them and make jokes that embarrassed them in front of people, like any good old sibling would do.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you had free time, you enjoyed teaching them chess and other logic games, loving the way the expressions on their faces were confusing whenever you used a different strategy. These were simple times when the whole family would get together to watch you play while everyone chatted. Times that were lost after the attack, all the joy, all the warmth, that mixed with the sad blue of the wallpaper until it turned the entire mansion into something cold.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel came back, lost, deeply hurt, and you were the only person he told what happened. The whole kidnapping and the cult, and it broke your heart, your brilliant little brother was an unresponsive blank as he recounted the facts, as if he didn't want to realize the impact that that event had on him. As if he was still on autopilot and couldn't let his guard down. And things were worse now that he had lost his twin brother, who he was as attached to as you were.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But you were there to support him every step of the way, holding his hand after a nightmare, wiping the rare tears from his eyes, listening to everything he had to say. Ciel's stubborn and prideful, he never asks for help but he has this serene smile on his face when you go out of your way to help him anyway. You knew he was strong for withstanding all the pressure, for enduring everything he went through and for having the strength necessary to overcome everything, and you reminded him of that in each of his "weak moments". It reminded him that he was loved and that you would always be by his side.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He's still twelve, he's still a child, and you're always telling him stories to sleep and taking him out to take his mind off his trauma. Sometimes you just sit next to him and listen to him express his thoughts.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel can be a little overprotective sometimes, which is funny considering you should be the overprotective one due to the age difference. He always sends Sebastian with you on your errands, to protect you from some attack or someone. And you don't complain, his intentions are good and you can understand the anxiety he feels upon knowing that those responsible for the attack are free and alive.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Being a few years older, you know a lot about balls, about every important person and how to negotiate with them. And you teach each of these things to Ciel when he decides to claim the title of Queen's Watchdog, giving advice and sharing your opinion whenever he asks you, being by his side as his left hand.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And being his left hand means that you and Sebastian interact on a daily basis, protecting Ciel, going on missions together, collecting information and the such.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In private, when your masks can finally fall, you call him by his real name, hug him lightly and let him know that no matter what, you'll be there for him. Always.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel actually told you everything, everything except that he made a contract with a demon. He hopes you can forgive him when the contract is completed, when he and his soul disappear from this world, without any chance of seeing you one last time in the so-called paradise.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Even after your death, Ciel might remember the loving way you sat in the chair next to his bed when he was sick and took care of him. He will remember the silly promises you made, the bad jokes you told him to make him laugh until his stomach hurt, the little adventures to steal cookies on Christmas morning. Things too precious for him.

#yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel #yandere ciel x reader #yandere ciel phantomhive x reader #platonic yandere #ciel x reader #ciel phantomhive x reader

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raven-awed · 2 years

Text

What He Noticed First

Ominis Gaunt x fem reader/MC

Fluff/angst

Summary: Ominis finds himself dealing with a lot of complicated feelings, especially when he realizes he has a crush on the new fifth year.

A/n: This started out as a cute fluffy idea but turns a little angsty. I’m thinking about writing a second part.

*not my picture

Vanilla, Ominis noted to himself about the new fifth year student. She smelled like vanilla. He wasn’t sure if it was her shampoo, perfume, or lotion, but every time she shifted or moved in her seat next to him the sweet smell of vanilla floated in the air.

Professor Ronen asked a question while Ominis was lost in thought, but y/n’s hand shot up in the air, answering the professor’s question with a soft and delicate voice.

“Excellent,” the Charms professor applauded before diving further into his lecture.

During class, Ominis made several other observations about y/n, other than her enticing scent, she was bright, eager to learn, and quick with occasional witty comments that she’d whisper to him or the student sitting at her other side.

“And that concludes our lesson,” Professor Ronen announced.

Ominis furrowed his brow, class had seemed to go by in a blur. Had he really been so fixated on the new girl that he hadn’t hardly heard a single thing Professor Ronen had said.

“See you next charms class,” y/n said to him as she rose from her seat.

“Yeah,” Ominis replied, still slightly dazed. “Goodbye.”

Even as she left the classroom, the sweet scent of vanilla lingered near him. Without much hurry, he gathered his things and took out his wand leaving with the rest of the stragglers to his next class.

Over the past several weeks, he had become better acquainted with y/n. He began to recognize her by other little details than just the way she smelled, like by the rhythm of her walking or the sound of her quietly humming to herself as she explored the castle.

When the opportunity would present itself, he sought out reasons to chat with her, even for simple things like discussing homework and how she was adjusting to Hogwarts.

He eventually learned more about her and her life, although he had remained reserved about sharing about himself. He’d rather listen to her talk anyways, than drudge up any unpleasantness.

It didn’t take long before Ominis began to associate anything made with vanilla with y/n. He’d be in Honey Dukes or in the great hall and smell something similar and a small smile would form on his face without fail.

He hadn’t really noticed himself until Sebastian had pointed it out at Hogsmeade. Fortunately, Sebastian hadn’t made the full connection, but seemed utterly bewildered over Ominis smiling over cakes.

At first, Ominis didn’t really think much of it, so what if he smiled everytime he smelled vanilla or that he’d feel a little flutter in his gut when he she’d walk into the room. She was his new friend, that was it… He denied to himself that it was anything else.

It wasn’t until one day in potions when he was faced with tangible evidence. He could hear all the girls giggling and buzzing with excitement as Professor Sharpe wrote on the chalkboard.

Sebastian groaned, “What a waste of time.”

“What is it?” Ominis quietly asked him.

“Apparently, we’re learning about-“

“Amortentia,” Professor Sharpe stated flatly, obviously not excited about the day’s lesson either. “A powerful love potion, and while we will not be brewing any in class, it is important to learn about its features and effects, if only to not become a recipient of its effects.”

Professor Sharpe moved to a potion station at the front of the class and asked all the students to gather around. “Amortentia induces the recipient to become infatuated or even obsessed, which could lead to some rather dangerous outcomes.”

The potions professor lifted the lid of the cauldron, “Amortentia smells differently to each person, particularly things that each individual is attracted to.”

Ominis stumbled forward a bit as the other students closed in closer to the cauldron. Standing almost in front of it now, all he could smell was vanilla, it was overwhelming to all his other senses, almost as if he was floating in a sea of it. Ominis bit his bottom lip tightly, his teeth digging into his skin as he realized why.

Finally, Professor Sharpe replaced the lid and Ominis felt like he could breathe again. His shoulders slumped as he stood there.

“You alright?” Sebastian pressed. “Look like you might throw up.

“I-I’m fine,” Ominis said, rubbing his face. “Think I’m just tired.”

Once class was dismissed, Ominis fled to the Slytherin common room. He flopped onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. How was he supposed to act around y/n now?

As the evening approached, Ominis remained in bed, afraid to go downstairs to the great hall, in case he’d run into y/n.

Dread filled him at the thought. He was suddenly self conscious about everything, what if said the wrong thing, or worse, what if y/n figured out how he felt and rejected him?

Eventually, he fell asleep still dressed in his uniform. It wasn’t a restful sleep, he woke in the morning cranky and irritable. He still had no solution for his crush problem other than avoiding y/n as much as possible.

He was the last one to leave the common room, he was hoping most people by now were done with breakfast, so he could at least eat in peace.

As expected, he wasn’t greeted by the usual noise and chatter, just a few students finishing their meals before heading for class. Sitting alone at the far end of the Slytherin table, Ominis served himself toast and a glass of pumpkin juice.

He stilled midbite as he heard footsteps approach.

“Relax,” Sebastian yawned, sitting next to Ominis. “It’s just me.”

“You slept in rather late,” Ominis commented, swallowing. “What were you up to last night?” He raised a brow, waiting for his friend’s reply.

“Nothing,” Sebastian shrugged.

Ominis frowned at Sebastian, they had been friends long enough for him to know that it was not nothing.

“I was just exploring the Restricted Section,” he admitted.

“Again? Are you trying to get expelled?”

“I’m not going to get expelled,” Sebastian sighed, playing with his food.

They parted ways after breakfast, heading to their respective morning classes. Being a few minutes late served Ominis well, he slipped in quietly and took an empty seat in the back row.

Typically, he sat near the front with y/n right beside him, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to act normally around her. Still, even sitting far from her, his stomach still flipped every time she spoke up to answer a question or giggle with whoever she was next to her.

He always assumed people were exaggerating when they spoke of infatuation and love. But this ache in his chest was practically indescribable. He yearned to be near her while simultaneously feeling nauseous at the thought of being close to her.

How does anyone handle feelings like these with any poise?

He recalled all the times he chuckled at the misery of others. Listening to other poor souls stumbling over their words or saying foolish things or behaving awkwardly simply because they were in the presence of someone they liked.

Now he was just another one of those bumbling idiots, but worse, he was too scared to even talk to her anymore. He felt like a coward.

When class ended, he tried to leave first. As he walked through the threshold, he could hear y/n calling after him and rushing towards him.

On one hand, he loved hearing her call his name, but he was also struck with anxiety, his palms already beginning sweating as he tried to walk faster.

“Hey,” she said, having caught up to him. “Are you alright?”

Ominis could hear the concern in her voice, he felt like he could melt on the spot, especially as she tugged on the sleeve of his robe to get him to stop and talk to her.

“I’m fine,” he answered sharper than he had meant to.

“Are you sure?” She pressed. “Sebastian said you weren’t feeling well yesterday and I didn’t see you this morning at breakfast.”

Ominis lowered his brow, “When did you and Sebastian talk?”

“Last night,” she answered in a small voice, while his voice rose.

“When, last night?”

“I really shouldn’t say more,” y/n replied softly. “I just.. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His jaw clenched tightly, how had it escaped his attention how close you and Sebastian had become, and why did it bother him so much?

He wasn’t stupid, this meant you and Sebastian had been in the Restricted Section, together, for some reason unknown to him.

Ominis sighed, his body relaxing a bit, “I’m fine y/n, really I am. I appreciate your concern.”

“I’ll see you later?” She asked.

Ominis nodded.

A couple of days passed, uneventfully for Ominis and the other students. Y/n seemed quite busy as of late, which was both a blessing and a curse. It was easier to avoid her if she wasn’t around, but it felt like ages since he had last spoken to her.

It was late at night and Ominis found himself unable to sleep. Thoughts of y/n and his troubles plagued him as he explored the quiet and empty halls of Hogwarts.

Despite his worries, he figured it would be best to get everything out in the open and go ahead and tell her how he felt. He simply needed to find the right time and place. And just like that the right place came to mind, The Undercroft.

It would provide the privacy that he desperately needed in order to make his confession. Even with Hogwarts being as vast as it is, there weren’t many places one could find absolute privacy, always a student or ghost coming in and out at all hours of the day. But in the Undercroft, they could be alone.

Without thinking, he started walking towards the hidden entrance. It had been some time since he had last gone down there.

His mind was already envisioning what he’d like to do or what he could do. The Undercroft wasn’t exactly the coziest place, but there were a few things he could do to make it more comfortable: more lights, maybe a few chairs or a blanket. He could even plan a little picnic or something.

He groaned to himself, “That might be a little too much.”

As Ominis approached the secret passage, he heard the distinct sounds of the gears twisting and passage opening as someone came out.

“Hello Sebastian,” He greeted, but quickly realized his mistake. “Wait.”

The familiar sweet scent of vanilla hung in the air giving y/n away. “Y/n?” He questioned, listening closely.

“Hello Ominis, I-“

“Did Sebastian bring you here?” He snapped, unable to disguise his anger or hurt.

“I won’t say a word about The Undercroft to anyone, I swear,” she pleaded.

“That’s not- That’s not the issue,” he murmured defeatedly. “Everything is ruined.”

He had wanted to be the one to show her, it was his secret afterall. And he feared that y/n and Sebastian were becoming something more than just friends.

Why else would Sebastian share such an important secret with her? Or help her sneak into the library?

He didn’t want to have to compete with oldest and dearest friend, and even if he did, he already felt like he had lost the battle. Ominis hated having all these conflicting emotions, especially the jealousy that he was currently overwhelmed by.

It didn’t seem fair. In a blink of an eye, Sebastian had seemingly won y/n over, even if both of him and her didn’t see it like that, yet, but to Ominis it was inevitable that they’d fall for each other.

“Ominis,” y/n spoke gently. “What’s ruined?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head.

Without saying another word, Ominis retreated alone back to the common room.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #Ominis gaunt fanfic #hogwarts legacy #Hogwarts legacy fanfic #reader insert #female reader #Ominis gaunt fluff #Ominis gaunt angst

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37sommz-archive · 2 months

Text

✼. MOTHER, MAY I | 2019.

CH. 06. NOW PLAYING: stfu! by rina sawayama [fluff, lil angsty]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela and lewis have a chat, 1.5k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀NOVEMBER 02, 2019 — austin, usa

If the pounding in Michaela’s head told her anything, it was probably that Austin had been a dizzying show of form. Though she was slated to start sixth in Sunday’s race, Michaela found herself begging the racing gods for mercy.

The Austin wind paired with the fantastic glimmer of shuttering cameras, had left her struggling to keep her happy smile plastered to her face. Those who noticed the absence of her familiar joyfulness were loud about their observations. She had been put on blast all weekend by reporters, drivers, and social media alike, her thrilling qualifying performance forgotten amidst the generous flow of speculation.

Dodging questions about her personal life—one of the more helpful recommendations Sebastian had gifted her during her time as a reserve—she quickly settled on repeating the same half-assed response every time, “I’m taking a page out of Kimi’s book.” They would laugh and move on, realizing they would be wasting precious airtime attempting to get much of anything out of the Australian driver.

The tiny bit of solace she finds against the wall her blonde waves rest against is stolen in a millisecond as she hears footsteps approaching her. They are gentle yet confident, the contrast perfectly matching the driver to whom they belong. Slowly releasing a sigh of mild grief before beginning to straighten her form, any conscious thoughts are pulled from her mind once she matches the footsteps to the driver. With his hair tucked underneath his Mercedes cap, braids carefully pulled into a signature ponytail, finding Lewis Hamilton smiling down at her practically shakes any aches from Michaela’s system.

“Easy,” he laughs, the sound as relaxed as it was worried. His eyebrows dip as he frowns at the state of the 19-year-old sat below him. Pulling a stray chair to sit beside her, he recovers his frown with a tight-lipped smile. Michaela pales in response as she suddenly finds herself shy of his attention. The two drivers had barely had any time to talk during the younger’s debut season. Though words of congratulations had been exchanged through press conferences, there had been little time for any personal chats.

“Sorry, I’m a mess at the moment,” she rushes to explain her current condition. Waving a hand at the frantic cope, Lewis shifts his body to face Michaela head-on.

“How has everything been for you? The team, the media, the fans?” His voice is a calming force settling over the air shared between them. It is then that Michaela takes notice, with self-admitted shock, of the clearness of his skin and the cleanliness of his parts. The famous stud adorning his left nostril seemed to catch the lights brilliantly in a way that only seemed to mock the headache they had given to her.

Nodding slowly she responds with a practiced carefulness, “Not the easiest.”

Lewis simply laughs at her answer. Throwing his head back as if she had told the grandest of jokes. His amusement is quickly explained with a loud, “Welcome to Formula One!”

She chuckles at his reaction. Though it is measured and ends as soon as his does, her shoulders relax as the tension holding them up begins to ease. An air of calm falls between the two drivers as they settle into candid conversation.

“You’ve done pretty well though,” He hums as he nudges his chair ever so slightly closer to hers. Attempting to keep her cool, Michaela nearly misses the caveat of, “From what I’ve seen so far”, that he adds to the thought, a shrug added to emphasize his point of view.

She sighs in response to the addition. The roll of her eyes, so natural with a practiced ease, draws another laugh out of Lewis.

“I’m in an Alfa Romeo, it’d be pretty hard to make it worse than it already is.”

The Mercedes driver moves a tattooed hand to cover his mouth in mild shock the Australian rookie could be so bold. His eyes widen with another bout of amusement, the deep chuckle he tries to suppress managing to escape against the brown of his skin. Her typically subdued nature in press conferences had surely misled him of her true personality. There in the seldom-used hallways she had managed to find in Austin, Lewis found a spark in her eyes typically hidden underneath the pink and white of her famous helmet.

The older driver leans back to take a peak around the corner, muttering, “You never know who’s around these fuckin’ corners.”

Clearing his throat, he moves to offer a bit of sympathy to the rookie. With eyes shifting again, this time to true poise, he levels his speech. “The first few seasons are always rough. But I think you’re one of the more capable drivers on the grid. No doubt you’ll be in a better car before long.”

As Michaela flushes, shying away from the compliment, he attempts to wave off the show of humility.

“I’m serious, anybody who says otherwise? Fuck ‘em.” His shoulders rise in a show of nonchalance. Hands gesturing outwards catch Michaela’s eye as they crinkle in amusement.

It is Michaela’s turn to laugh out loud. Though her amusement is more subdued to be shared between the two of them, the grace she extends to the great seated in front of her is tangible. Waves of gratitude roll off her being and surround the two of them in a blanket of understanding.

“Can’t say that in these pressers yet,” She chuckles as her laughter subsides a few beats later. “They’d have me out on my arse by the morning.”

Her eyes roll again, annoyance replacing the ocean of gratitude she had previously been submerged in. The shift catches Lewis’ attention as he leans back against his chair. His comfort is immediately obvious to the rookie whose cheeks redden to her embarrassment.

“Yeah, that clause in your contract? What’s that all about?” His eyebrows furrow as the slightest of wrinkles around the perimeter of his eyes crinkle just the same. His lips pull into a frown as he awaits Michaela’s response.

“The shut up clause?” She huffs in reply. A graceful, manicured hand reaches up to massage at her temples. Her dark eyes close as she feels the weight of all the season’s pressure fall back onto her shoulders.

“If that’s what we’re calling it.” Lewis hums. The concern remains on his face despite his gentle curiosity.

“It’s supposed to keep me ‘in line’.” Her fingers signal quotations around the phrase. “They could fine me for any statements they think unfairly scrutinize them or the FIA.” When Lewis cocks an eyebrow with a questioning tilt of his hair, Michaela offers a clarification: the ‘them’ in question being Alfa Romeo.

“Damn,” He mutters with a disapproving shake of his head. “Didn’t know they could even put that in a contract.” When Michaela doesn’t respond, her head finds its way back against the white linoleum-lined walls, and Lewis takes a breath.

“Who negotiated that?” He inquires as his lips pull into a line.

An ironic chuckle escapes the younger driver who offers a simple response. “They wouldn’t sign me without it… had to… compromise.” The words are just barely strung together, loose and uncommitted as they hang in the air.

“Shut up clause.” Lewis muses with a scoff. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he sits up in his chair. “How long’s the contract? Two years?” When Michaela only offers a nod in affirmation, Lewis’ arms cross as if communicating his disappointment through solidarity.

The silence continues to freeze the previous ease of conversation. As the rumble of the anxious press floods through the walls separating the two from the waiting craze outside of their presumed sanctuary, Lewis’ phone begins to ring. The contact name of his Press Officer appears in bolded white at the top of the screen. Both drivers release a sigh through their lips, moving to stand from their comfortable seats. Though Lewis’ fingers twitch in an effort to respond to the call, he takes a brief moment to encourage the rookie driver.

“Being the first is never easy. There’s people waiting to see you crash, literally.” The added warning draws a tight-lipped chuckle from the Australian. “Don’t give them the satisfaction of failure, yeah? Experience everything with a cool head, make them eat their words.” Michaela nods in understanding, eyes wide as she hangs on to every syllable of the British driver’s wise words.

With a final, “Keep pushing, kid. You’re the shit”, he departs from her side. His phone raises to his ear as he huffs out an excuse to the woman on the other end, a jog in his steps as he disappears down the hallway. Taking a deep breath, Michaela’s feet carry her to follow him.

✼.⠀taglist:⠀

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@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

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@sv5beehives @mynameisangeloflife @tellybearryyyy

@melancholyy-hill @emmma323

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arkiliastuff · 8 months

Text

Always You

One shot | Noah Sebastian x Female Reader

Warnings : Fluff, a tsundere/upset Reader and a teasy Noah. (I can't deal with this man anymore he's too hot I can't stop thinking about him)

A/N : First of all, I wasn't planning on writting another one shot about Noah soon, but guess what plans changed. Also I didn't expect to be this long again, but how bizarre when it comes to Noah it gets longer...👀 And it turns out I like this fanfic very much 😌 Plus, listening After You by Meg Myers actually helped me a lot in the writting process. Hope you'll enjoy it ! :D

~ The little bean Taglist : @talialovesmiw

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You were walking back from the bar you were at, during the evening. You walked fast, irritated. Noah was a few feet behind you, looking at you with a grin on his face as he loved seeing you pouting and being flustered.

He teased you during the whole party, getting each time closer to your face as you tried to hide it, crimson red. You weren’t able to focus on anything else. You tried to talk to the other guys who were here, enjoying the break of a night party at the bar like you all used to do when they were back from touring. But you couldn’t even have a chat with any of them for more than five seconds. Noah was always by your side, putting an arm on your shoulder, or kept looking at you with his smile killing you each time.

He also knew and felt when you were watching him. While you were pretending to talk with the boys, you saw him in the corner of your eye, flipping his hair back from his face. This was something that always makes you lose your mind. This guy was completely draining every brain cell of your brain, the thought of him never leaving your mind. You were mad at him. He was teasing you way too much. That was unfair. Since he knew you had a crush on him, but tried to hide or deny it in front of him, he kept acting like that. You felt like he was only playing with your feelings and that’s why you were angry.

He knew how handsome he was to you and you were losing it. And so, during the party, you decided to leave because you couldn’t handle Noah anymore. You were about to explode if he went closer to you once more, your lips getting close every time. You were out of breath. You needed fresh air. So you left, telling the guys you were going home. And guess who decided to accompany you? Yes. Him. Noah. When he saw you leaving, he followed you, his stupid grin still on his sexy face. You let out an angry groan to hide how you were so flustered by his presence. And here you were again, walking fast in front of him trying to put some distance, but he quickly caught you up.

“Mad at me, princess ?” He said while walking by your side, still smirking.

You couldn’t take his teasing game anymore. You had to say something, otherwise, you were going to collapse at your feet. That’s the last thing you wanted to show him. Being vulnerable in front of him and admitting his teasy flirting was working so much on you. But you tried to keep it together, your anger helping you to hide a bit longer how you were drawn to him.

“Yes, I am !” You let out, angry.

“Oh? Why? What did I do ?” He said, acting innocently.

“You !!--” You clenched your fist, restraining yourself to punch his beautiful face “You know exactly what you were doing the whole night.”

“Well, you tell me.” He kept smiling.

You inhaled, getting ready for what you were about to say. You stopped walking, in the middle of the road, facing him, still with your red cheeks.

“No matter what I do, trying to talk to the others or even doing nothing, I always think about you. It’s always you. You. Over and over again. It always has been. You’re so selfish, Noah. I can’t get you out of my head. It’s been months since I have a big ass crush on you, and everyone seemed to know it before I told any of them. But you, you didn’t realize it until, God knows when, and now you’re playing with me! And I’m tired of this !! Just tell me what you want already !”

This sounded more like a confession than being angry at him. But you actually wanted to tell him your feelings for a long time. You were madly in love. So much that seeing his perfect face hurted you so much. You didn’t know how you could keep this up when you were hanging out with him and the boys. He was occupying every single one of your thoughts and dreams. You had to tell him at some point. You weren’t planning on getting angry at him. Yet, he really did push you to the edge. Somehow, he seemed to not mind you getting angry at him. He actually loved it. He kept his stupid smirk, like he knew you were giving up on avoiding him or pretending his teasing didn’t affect you. He leaned to your height, looking straight into your eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you only think about me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He said quietly, teasing you once again.

If you weren’t red enough, well you were purplish red, like a tomato about to explode. You felt every inch of your body burning, of anger or desire, or probably both. He had such a hold on you that you knew it was useless to fight or try to struggle with him. He always won and always will. Even if you already lost this battle with him, you tried not to admit your defeat as you crossed your arms against your coat.

“You’re still playing with me, are you? I knew it. You don’t feel anything for me, you just want to see me being madly in love with you to flatten your ego ?” You accused him.

He shook his head, still smiling at you but more genuinely this time.

“I’m teasing you to only see your reactions, pushing you a bit more to the edge, because I love seeing your cute face when you’re angry…” He said softly, still seductively teasing you.

He brushed his thumb on your red hot cheek, his cold gloved touch surprised you.

“... But I’m not playing with you or with your feelings. I will never. You’re too precious to me. I care for you, Y/N. I really do.”

You felt your heart flinch when he spoke your name so softly, his touch and words soothing you that made you uncross your arms.

“I guess, I’m also the one in denial who didn’t want to admit my feelings for you” He kept saying more gently “ Will you forgive me ?”

He put both of his hands on your cheeks, waiting for your answer. Was this real? You weren’t sure anymore as he teased you way too much. So you returned him the favor.

“Well… I’ll forgive you if you really mean what you’re saying to me.” You faked a pout.

He grinned again, loving you being the little brat you were.

“And what if I showed you that I really mean it ?” He said.

“Then do it, before I do it myself.” You said firmly, anticipating what was going to happen.

He smiled as he leaned closer to you, finally meeting your lips. You’ve been waiting for this, for so long. He probably had too, since how he pulled you closer against him, his strong arms caging you, deepening the kiss. This was even better than you expected, despite being in the middle of the street, people passing by behind you. But neither of you paid attention to the surroundings. It was just the two of you. You kept kissing each other until you were both out of breath. But you wanted more, you craved him.You wanted to taste his lips again. And as you stared at his darkened eyes you could tell he wanted to. The only thing that was pushing you back to go further was.. well processing your real first kiss with him. And also your own hesitation to keep going like this. Noah could see the messy blushing look on your face and he couldn’t stop smiling at the sight, with you in his arms, brushing slowly your fingers on his cheek.

“Finally giving up your shell ?” He teased once more.

You rolled your eyes in exasperation.

“And I see you’re not done teasing me, are you ?” You replied back.

“I’m not and I won’t stop. This is just the beginning. I’ll keep teasing you all night, baby.” He smirked.

You blushed at the idea of what he might do, but you forced yourself to not think about it.

“Ugh… Why am I not surprised? I should’ve expected that from you. You’re so annoying.” You pouted, raising your eyebrows.

To his dismay, you left his embrace, infuriated again and turned your back on him.

“That’s it. I’ve had enough. I’m coming home.” You let out, upset and tired of his teasing.

Yet Noah wasn’t done. It took him a few steps to catch you again. He grabbed you lightly by the wrist, stopping you from leaving. Then, he pulled you close to him, holding you from behind with his arms around your waist. Feeling his warmth in your back made you sweat as your body’s heat was increasing quickly.

“What the..? What are you doing ??” You stumbled, blushing again and almost ready to fight him.

“Don’t leave just yet.” He whispered to your ear “Let me hold you for two seconds. Then I’ll walk back home with you."

You expected him to tease you again but he seemed more sincere and serious this time.

“Fine…” You capitulated “But no more teasing, alright ?”

“Hmm.. No promises.” He mouthed, hiding his face in your neck.

You grumbled a bit before releasing the pressure and exasperation of his teasing, actually enjoying the cuddle. His breath was soothing you as he was inhaling the sweet perfume of your hair. Both of you stood in the middle of the road, hearing the cars passing by during this cold night. You were glad Noah was there. Indeed, he was keeping you warm, his huge body covering yours like a blanket. Two seconds had passed but you wanted to stay like this a bit longer, despite the cold getting through your thighs. Noah felt you were shivering and that’s when he decided to break his embrace.

“Come on, let me walk you home. At this rate, you’re going to freeze to death.” He said, gently holding your hand.

His tender touch caught you off guard but you didn’t complain. As long as you could be a little longer with him, that’s all that mattered. You looked at his gloved hands, so big compared to yours intertwined with his. Then you looked at Noah, staring at his profile and how he looked so gorgeous no matter which angle.

“That’s so unfair.” You mumbled in your scarf, hiding your red face.

“What’s unfair ?” He asked, looking at you, amused again.

“You…” You began and continued “You are so unfair. I cannot comprehend how you can be such a teasy fool and be so gentle at the same time ?!”

He smiled, with the kind of smile he always does. The one that showed his perfect teeth and the curve of his cheeks going up, making all of his traits harmonize together. The kind of smile that always made you melt. With that, he let out a soft chuckle, which sounded like a sweet melody to your ears. God, how much you loved seeing his genuine smile on his face and hearing his laugh.

“I guess, it’s just the way I am.” He replied, simply.

You were not really convinced by this answer though.

“You’re just surreal. Like you’re coming out of a dream.” You stated.

“Yet, I’m right here, Y/N. Right next to you.”

Your hand still in his, he gently put the tip of your knuckles to his lips, leaving the sweetest kiss you ever had.

“See? Is that enough to prove it to you ?” He smiled, satisfied to see you red as a traffic light again.

“Um... I guess so…” You stammered, avoiding his gaze, too much flustered for your own good.

The way back to your flat went well somehow. At first, you felt awkward about the silence between the two of you, but seeing that Noah didn’t mind it did ease you. He was enjoying this peaceful moment with you. Even if you were less tense around him, you were still processing what happened. All of his teasy behavior and him admitting his feelings for you was quite a lot to assimilate. You didn’t expect it to be that mutual.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize you had arrived at your front door until Noah told you.

“We’re here.” He spoke softly.

You felt your heart ache when you were about to let go of his hand. He took his time, as he didn’t want to let go either. You remained silent though, not knowing what to say or to do.

“Well… I’ll see you next time. Good night.” He said.

Panic started to rise in your chest, your heart beating so fast, as you saw him about to leave.

What did he mean by “next time” ? He couldn’t leave you like that. You wanted to see him as much as you could before he went back touring… And God knows when he’ll be back.

Without any other hesitation, you rushed to him and grabbed a piece of his black coat sleeve.

“Wait..! Can’t you stay a bit longer? At least… stay here for the night. You can sleep on my couch and you can go back in the morning. If you want.. of course.” You begged.

You stuttered at your words at the end, not sure if your request was appropriate. You lowered your head, staring at your feet as the embarrassment rose. You kept holding his sleeve, not letting him go this time. Noah turned around and leaned a bit to cup your face so you could look at him.

“Look who’s the needy one this time.” He mused, making you blush “Sure, I’ll stay with you. I’m fine sleeping on the couch.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he accepted your offer. You just nodded at him, smiling nervously as the both of you entered your apartment. You took off your coat and scarf before leaving your boots in the doorway. Noah did the same while following you in your living room. You started to put more cushions, a pillow and a blanket on the couch that you took from your closet. Then, you realized how small your couch was compared to Noah.

“Actually, I’ve realized that it might be better for you to sleep in my bed than here...”

He looked at you, tilting his head on his left, smiling at you.

“Oh ? How interesting. You want me so badly in your bed, huh ? You could have just asked right away, you know.”

You stepped back, waving your hands at him to undo the teasing he was doing to fluster you even more.

“No, no ! Erm.. I just don’t want you to hurt your back or anything… You know what, I’ll sleep on the couch myself."

“Or… If your bed is big enough for the two of us, we can sleep together.” He teased, getting closer to you.

Oh, no. Why did you invite him to your place again ? Right. Because you love him.

“I’ll promise I’ll behave.” he smirked.

Your eyes widened before stepping a little from him, trying to get yourself together.

“Well, you better be ! Or I’m kicking you out of the bed.” You warned him.

“Deal.” He chuckled.

Once you set up your bed with Noah’s help, you went into the bathroom to get changed into more comfortable pajamas. Not like you were nervous about how ridiculous it would look or not like you cared about Noah’s opinion either. He said he wasn’t going to do anything. Yeah, it was better to keep it that way. For now. Too many things happened during this night. You were barely realizing he was here, at your house, sleeping in your bed with you. As you were brushing your teeth, you were overthinking the situation. Come on, get yourself together! But how could you remain calm as the man you’ve always dreamt about was here now ?

You spat your toothpaste before washing your mouth and heading back to your room. Noah was sitting at the edge of it, undressing his black coat and his dark sweater, just to be comfortable in his turtleneck shirt. You never imagined a man could look that good in a turtleneck shirt. Timidly, you cleared your throat, interrupting your own fantasies.

“Sorry, I don’t have any other clothes that would fit you. But I have an extra tooth brush, in the bathroom’s small cabinet, if you want…”

He smiled at you so lovingly, putting his cheek in the palm of his tattooed hand, visibly moved by your concern.

“Worried about my well-being, are we ? How thoughtful of you.” He grinned

“Well.. Yeah..! What about it ?”

“I think it’s adorable.” He said softly, a large smile still curling his lips.

“Oh, shut up and go to the bathroom already !” You gave up.

He stood up and went to the bathroom, brushing his teeth. A few minutes later, he lied down in the bed next to you. You tried to hide your smile in the blanket, as you were getting close to him.

“Happy to see me, here ?” He said, amused to see your happy face.

You nodded shyly as an approval, making him grin again. You got closer to him, facing his covered torso before lifting up your chin to gaze at him.

“So… When are you going back touring ?” You asked.

“In two days. I’ll help everyone get everything packed up tomorrow. Which is why I’ll leave early when the morning comes” He replied quietly.

You felt a bit sad, imagining him leaving already, but that was a thought for later. You rolled a bit more with the blankets, like a sushi.

“Thank you for staying tonight, Noah.” You mumbled after a short silence.

“My pleasure, sweetheart." He responded softly while stucking a strand behind your ear.

His gentle touch made you melt again. You snuggled a bit closer to him feeling his warmth and breathing his cologne. How relaxing it was. Noah wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you close to him.

“Goodnight.” He said, leaving soft kisses on your forehead.

As you were going to sleep, you barely heard him. And also you hardly remembered saying “ ‘Love you” to him.

When you woke up, early in the morning, the other side of the bed was empty. You put your hand on the mattress, hardly feeling Noah’s warmth. He left early as he said last night. You couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholic as you stroke the bedsheets to remember his presence. You missed him already. Then, under your touch, you found a piece of clothing, hidden under the blanket. You recognized it. It was Noah’s sweater. The one he was wearing last night. As you were wondering why he left it, your phone buzzed on the nightstand next to you. Curious, you picked it up.

Noah : Thank you for the night, princess. The bed was comfortable with you cuddling me. You can keep the sweater as a souvenir. Love you too.

You let out a small laugh while you read his message, holding his sweater close to you. You could still inhale Noah’s perfume, as if he was still with you.

“Idiot…” You murmured to yourself with a smile.

He sure was a teasy idiot but you loved him so much. It was impossible for you to get him out of your head. And you liked it that way.

#bad omens fanfiction #badomens #bad omens fanfic #fanfiction #bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x female reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens band #noah sebastian fluff #fluff

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leclerc-s · 4 months

Text

there’s no separating work husbands

series masterlist

rowan todd i now realize i have been silently suffering for far too long.

bailey winters LMAOOOOO!!! SUCK IT!! rowan todd you have no room to talk winters.

daniel jones-ricciardo suffering from what?

fernando alonso third-wheelitis

sebastian vettel that's not a word. fernando alonso it is now!

logan sargeant how are we supposed to believe that those two are mature adults?

ollie bearman better question, how are any of you adults?

alex albon sometimes it's a miracle any of us have lived as long as we have

yuki tsunoda I'M BACK BITCHES!

rhys jones has he always been here? isabella perez he muted us after pierre left RB and only popped in to make fun of pierre every once in a while.

rowan todd there he is, the bane of my existence.

yuki tsunoda little me?

lance stroll i'm convinced who's afraid of little old me was written for yuki, mae, and penelope.

charles leclerc now why would you tell them? mae jones-verstappen we can read this you fake bitch.

pierre gasly YUKI!!

yuki tsunoda PIERRE!

max jones-verstappen they're married. the faster we admit it the faster it's over.

mick schumacher that sure doesn't stop you from third wheeling daphne and daniel. max jones-verstappen sometimes i have to fight the urge to punch you schumacher.

yuki tsunoda if it helps, you're my favorite gasly rowan.

pierre gasly what the fuck yuki?

freya vettel this is yuki's 'breaking my silence' video.

yuki tsunoda rowan still visits me, unlike someone.

rowan todd it's true and he feeds me in return.

lance stroll because fuck the french right?

yuki tsunoda yes!

daphne jones-ricciardo i don't think i've ever seen a third-wheel and the significant other ganging up on the other person in the relationship.

sebastian vettel rowan and yuki like to defy the odds.

mick schumacher like alex and george when they dare each other to do stupid shit.

george russell SHUT YOUR MOUTH SCHUMACHER!! alex albon shut up mick!

ollie bearman i'm never introducing my girlfriend to you people.

isabella perez well you have to because i'm your mother.

pato o'ward you must oliver!

gael perez leave the poor boy alone oh my god.

dulce perez says the nosiest bitch in this group chat.

rowan todd i've been kicked out of my own apartment by my own boyfriend.

bailey winters it's almost too funny i have to laugh. rowan todd zip it winters.

isabella perez wait, they actually kicked you out?

rowan todd pierre told me, 'yuki forgot to get something, can you go grab it for us?'

rowan todd i thought they were sending me to yuki's car, but noooo!

rowan todd they sent me to the fucking store to pick it up.

daphne jones-ricciardo sometimes i genuinely feel bad for you rowan

dulce perez why sometimes?

daphne jones-ricciardo she chose pierre. this is no one's fault but hers.

mae jones-verstappen well you're the one who invited them both to your party, so if anything this is your fault.

natalia ruiz was she supposed to know rowan would decide, 'yeah, i want that french fucker.'

penelope trevino just start a pierre gasly hate club. have yuki and esteban join you.

isabella perez ooh! i'll join too, i'm still mad he ate my churros that one time. natalia ruiz count me in too tf. mae jones-verstappen i have pent up rage against pierre for making fun of me after my break up with max. count me in too.

isabella perez pierre's kind of an ass, why are you with him rowan?

rowan todd i can fix him (no really i can)

daphne jones-ricciardo remember what the ending line of that song is? 'woah, maybe i can't'

penelope trevino but she did?

natalia ruiz pierre is an asshole on the outside but on the inside he's a huge softie. we all know this.

mae jones-verstappen but it's so funny to shit on him.

daphne jones-ricciardo just hang out with yuki without him. make him suffer.

rowan todd that's actually a smart idea. brb going to ask yuki to grab lunch with me.

liked by yukitsunoda0511, gaelperez, daphnejonesricciardo and others

rowantodd not pictured is yuki screaming for help because pierre almost set the kitchen on fire. i was also sent to get the groceries while pierre 'hung out' with yuki.

tagged: pierregasly, yukitsunoda0511

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yukitsunoda0511 thank you for having me rowan!!

↳ rowantodd you're welcome to come back anytime yuki, but please leave your assistant at home.

↳ pierregasly this is slander against me.

landonorris i need to find someone who looks at me the way yuki looks at pierre

↳ baileywinters so guess who's single now.

↳ landonorris baby no! i didn't mean it like that!

user52 damn third wheeling in her own home

↳ user79 it seems like they're forcing pierre to third wheel them

user61 what dignified little lady martini is!

user25 pierre gasly having a yorkie as a pet was something i never expected when i became a formula 1 fan.

↳ user14 and this man still makes 🐶 jokes.

nataliaruiz not all of us can have a joris third wheel but at least yours feeds you.

↳ rowantodd at least it's not lando.

↳ penelopetrevino he sucks but only i can shit talk him.

↳ landonorris thanks mom!

user89 what a cute family, pierre, his ex-wife rowan, his husband yuki, and their child martini.

❤️ by rowantodd, yukitsunoda0511, and others

pierregasly ah, my two loves, yuki and martini.

↳ rowantodd this is why i've never written a love song about you.

↳ danieljonesricciardo this is why she got a divorce from you.

estebanocon ah, my favorite member of the gasly family, martini.

↳ rowantodd this is why you're her favorite alpine driver, besides jack

↳ jackdoohan aw shucks i'm honored.

olliebearman if martini goes missing, just know it wasn't me.

user35 everyday i'm reminded that martini is a 'happy divorce day' gift pierre got for rowan.

↳ user66 THAT'S WHY THEY HAVE A DOG??

↳ user35 oh yeah, martini is an 'i'm happy we got a divorce' gift.

jeremyrenner is that tripod guy?

↳ rowantodd please stop.

↳ pierregasly i refuse to believe jeremy renner knows me as tripod guy. i've never been so embarrassed.

↳ isabellaperez is this worse than tom holland referring to you as tripod during the monaco gp?

↳ gaelperez sebastian stan and anthony mackie also know you as tripod.

↳ pierregasly i've never hated myself more.

↳ yukitsunoda0511 HA!

pierre gasly end my suffering.

esteban ocon LMAOOOO!!! SUCK IT BITCH!!

lewis hamilton oh no. what happened now?

pierre gasly THEY'RE GANGING UP ON ME!! I AM SUFFERING!!

sebastian vettel i thought we had another pr nightmare on our hands.

isabella perez no, everything is calm on that front for now.

rhys jones i can start a rumor about daniel being pregnant with max's child?

daniel jones-ricciardo why am i always the victim of his crimes?

rowan todd SUFFER LIKE I HAVE SUFFERED YOU CROISSANT!!

yuki tsunoda I'M STEALING THE GOD!! SHE'S MINE NOW!

pierre gasly YOU LEAVE MARTINI ALONE TSUNODA!!

charles leclerc STEAL HIS DOG YUKI! HE TRIED TAKING LEO FROM ME!!

daphne jones-ricciardo did they go out to get lunch without you?

pierre gasly how did you know?

dulce perez it was her idea.

pierre gasly i hope you have issues with your mic in paris daphne.

rhys jones i hope you piss in your tractor of a car pierre.

lance stroll he's scary. keep him away from sharp objects.

rhys jones i'm making it my mission to scare my sisters haters. pierre gasly, you're at the top of my list.

carlos sainz he's what the people describe as feral.

lando norris this is a trick to divert pierre's attention from rowan and yuki.

pierre gasly WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE!!!

rowan todd YOU'LL NEVER FIND US!!

yuki tsunoda YOU'LL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE!!

pierre gasly i'll find you two. i swear.

rowantodd has posted new stories

hanging without pierre, this is the best experience either one of us have had. oh look who decided to crash my yuki-time. that was my desert...

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault

¡leclerc-s speaks! took the weekend off but i’m back! convinced this isn't my best work but it still delivers on humor (i think)

¡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 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x female oc

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therapycat21 · 3 months

Text

Victoria Secret Perfume

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x musician!Reader

Type: One Shot

Description: The reader becomes friends with Noah and they make the social media world run in circles.

Word Count: 1049

“Ugh, that was amazing!” I gasp out, I’ve been out of breath since playing the seventh song and just now catching my breath. The group and I stood talking for a bit before our manager butts in “My favorite people in the world, sorry for interrupting but there are some people here to meet you”

I look around confused as does the rest of the group “We’re not supposed to do fan meet and greets tonight” our lead singer Tia says to him. He shakes his head smiling “I was told that there was another band in the audience tonight and they wanted to meet you guys” He says smiling too hard, I squint my eyes at him before asking “Who?” his phone beeps and he walks over to one of the doors, before opening he smirks at me “its the band bad omens.”

I can feel my heart starting to pound, I told Carlisle in confidence how much of a crush I had on their singer, and knowing him, this wasn't just a coincidence that they are here after telling him. He opens the door and welcomes the band in before walking them over to us.

I watch as he introduces the girls by name and I make eye contact with Noah as he now stands in front of me, I inhale a subtle deep breath before smiling up at him “Hi I’m Y/n” I introduce myself, sticking my hand out. His hand is so warm as he shakes my hand, holding it a few seconds longer (Or I’m being delulu) He smiles down at me “Yeah, I used to watch your live streams”

my heart stutters as he laughs slightly at my reaction. I close my mouth, not knowing it was open. “Thank you, you guys are amazing” I realize I’m only addressing Noah and I look to the side at the rest of the band “Seriously, You guys killed it” they smile in appreciation. I look back and notice Noah still staring at me.

That is how we became best friends, fast forward to now and a lot has changed, Tia left the group to work solo, I, Isla and Valery decided to stay a throuple and it’s been even more amazing, They deemed me to start singing and the fans have been so supportive and like our new image.

The band and I are very good friends with Noah’s, more so Noah and I have become close, him helping me with my performance anxiety and me helping his. Over the past year, fans have been going crazy over our friendship, now and then we come across a fan edit of us on TikTok, and it's pretty funny reacting to them on live stream.

I sit at home in my gaming room and have been live streaming the past two hours playing a game and talking to some fans when my phone lights up with a message. “Speak of the devil” I laugh and look at Noah's message asking if he can come over, after responding I go back to streaming.

“So I’ll probably see you all at the next show here in Virginia soon, I’m so excited,” I say with excitement not knowing Noah has just walked in the room but considering I can’t hear with these headphones on. I looked at the chat box as it was starting to go crazy “Someone’s behind you?” before I could turn I felt warmth surrounding my back and sighed in relief.

Noah bends behind my chair, hugging me from behind, nestling his head in the side of my hair, I chuckle as the chat starts spamming and I can barely read the messages. He lets go and swings a chair over to sit next to me “I didn't know you were gonna be here that quick, you scared the shit out of me” I lightly slap his stomach. He laughs and catches my hand in his “I was already on my way over when I called you” I start to laugh hysterically.

I look at the chat, “Please tell me what Noah smells like?” I laugh and shake my head, “Are you and Noah together?” I shake my head again “Noah looks like he would smell like cinnamon or mint but in reality, he smells like Victoria's Secret perfume” I smirk at the comments flowing through and look over my shoulder at him.

He wasn't even paying attention to the stream, he was staring and watching his hand rub back and forth on my side and back, I tapped his knee and he looked up “Mhm?” I laugh as he isn't paying attention “They were asking what you smelled like” he furrows his eyebrows and looks to the stream “Some people say I look like I smell like mint or maybe cinnamon but I smell like that perfume you use” he points to me at the end.

I continue to stare at him, I forget how deep his voice can get, I break away from my thoughts when I see his face form into a smug smirk, and he looks me up and down, I take a quick breath and turn my attention back to the stream.

“Why would he smell like you?” I read one of the comments, I glance at him slightly and hover my cursor on the end stream button “Because when he lays on top of me at night my smells linger onto him” I laugh and quickly end the stream before the fans spam and go crazy.

I look at Noah as he starts to laugh “I can’t believe you did that, they're gonna go feral now” He says standing up from the pink furry desk chair, he holds his hand out for me to help me stand up. I stare up at him and hug his waist “I gotta give the fans what they want” I smirk, tap his chest, and walk out of the room.

Noah stands in the middle of the room and glances at me as I walk away, smirking and feeling proud and claimed by the girl who is the love of his life and the girl who makes him willingly spray Victoria's Secret perfume on so he can smell her when she’s not in a room.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader

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neetily · 2 months

Text

Party For Two — (SDV) Sebastian

— ✧ warnings: love confession, mutual masturbation, premature ejaculation, creampie, fingering — ✧ word count: 6,077

— ✧ A/N: reposting some favs from my old account! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

It’s the usual hang out night, held at your farmhouse this time round because you insisted on doing your fair share of hosting, only, Sebastian can’t help but feel that it’s anything but usual. What was meant to be a four person TV series watch has now turned into a party for two. Sam, currently sick with allergies and Abigail, busy trying (and most likely failing) to beat ‘Journey Of The Prairie King’— something that Sebastian is sure will take more than one night of attempts, she’s already been stuck on it for a week... And well, he can’t really fault Sam for not wanting to make anyone else sick. If anything, he’s thankful to be the only one to show up besides you. It’s not really that bad of a turn out, not when he’s been secretly wanting to spend more alone time with just you and him anyway. Because see, he’s always been interested in you ever since you first came to the valley, and it’s as time’s went on and you slowly assimilated into his little trio friend group that he found himself thinking: yeah, four is a better number anyway. A small crush, he tells himself. Nothing serious, he jokes with Sam. No I wasn’t staring, he whispers to Abi. But deep down, he knows exactly what he feels, and as you finally come back into your living room with excitement in your eyes he knows it to be true— he wants to see that face every day going forward.

“Sorry for the wait!” You smile, his eyes drawn to your blushed cheeks when your attention is immediately focused on the TV in front of you. Tonight seems like a good time to confess, because while he certainly wants to do other things with you, it’d be rude not to make his intentions clear in the first place. To be a gentleman, and at the very least provide courtesy before anything else, smiling warmly back at you while you busy yourself with getting comfortable next to him. He likes you, and he’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity right in front of him. Alone, with you. There really isn’t a better scenario to confess in, is there?

“S’all right,” He half-grunts as he repositions himself to be more facing sideways so that he can keep looking at your pretty face, as he always does. “You ready for the next episode?”

“Yes!” You beam back at him, remote control in your hand as you glance at him for what he thinks is a final time tonight before starting the weekly show, so he does his best to respond in kind. It’s one that the group had decided to watch together, and though Sebastian wasn’t that interested in the premise, he did enjoy the thought of spending more time with you, which is why he mostly agreed to join in the first place. He’s grown to like the show more anyway, though he’s unsure if that’s down to the (honestly, pretty mediocre) cinematography or because he gets to stare at you for an extended period of time each week. Lovingly, of course, he’d hate to come off as a creep. Always cautious about his looking, but feeling unable to control his desires for too long before he’s eyeing you up and down again. He always waits to dive deeper into his thoughts of you until he’s home at least, mostly because he can’t stand the thought of popping a boner in front of so many people and to be left unable to live it down for the rest of his life, but also because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. Would rather the boner scenario to making you feel any negativity in any capacity. “I’m so glad Sam and Abi said it was cool to continue, I’ve been waiting all week to see what happens next!”

Ah, yeah, the romantic plot line or… Something. It’s difficult to pay attention to the current story when his vision is so full of you each week, but he’s heard you chat about it enough to get a good idea of what to expect next. The protagonist and her love interest, finally, seemingly getting together. It’s cute to see you so invested in something, and he too finds himself thankful that his friends have allowed the continuation of the series in the privacy of a company of two. “Yeah, real nice of them, huh?” He continues out of pleasantries, knowing just how much you wanna get started. Sam promised to watch the episode himself, all bundled up under blankets in his own living room— Sebastian knows his best friend is probably practicing guitar instead, and Abigail will be too stubborn to give up gaming for a show she can catch up on when you ramble about it in the group chat later. Still, there’s comfort in the space they’ve provided him, his chest warm and gaze half-lidded as you press play, the shows intro sequence filling the remaining small space left between two bodies.

He’d like to fill that space with himself, eventually.

Even during the admittedly drawn out intro you’re cutely engrossed, the glow from the TV shining in your eyes so prettily, like there were stars or something, and he cringes at his sappy internal monologue. You’re still far more interesting to watch than whatever the screen is currently showing, and he takes his time when committing every detail of you to memory tonight. The innocent way your eyes are glued to the screen, the unknowing smile on your face as your favorite character shows on screen, the way you edge just slightly off your seat as if to get closer, closer to the screen instead of his arms. He huffs impatiently, low and quiet to himself at the thought. What he wouldn’t give to have you in his lap instead, he’d even still let you watch your favorite show, so long as he could hold you. Softly touching you, kissing the top of your head as a reminder that you are wanted. So deep in his thoughts of you that he doesn’t even realize how much time has passed— it can’t be that much— but he distinctly hears a moan that drags him back to reality. A soft but sinful one, his head snapping to the source of the sound as his cheeks instinctively flush. It’s coming from the TV, an intimate sex scene including those two characters you like so much. Already? He thinks to himself, so much for tension, before he finds his eyes once again falling on you, and he gasps a little at the sight that greets him.

Too many times he’s spent lonely late nights imagining exactly how you look right now, curled up in on yourself as you avert your gaze from the screen with an almost shy look on your face. Honestly, he never thought you’d ever optionally look away when this show was on, but he thinks you’re embarrassed. A sneaky smirk plastered on his face at the realization. It is a little awkward to be watching a sex scene with your friends, he can admit that. But he finds it difficult to feel uneasy himself, too amused at the way you clear your throat as the moans continue to fill the otherwise silence of your living room, keeping his vision locked on you to see exactly how you react to the explicit scene playing out with curiosity. Something he can use again you in the future.

“We can skip past it, if you want.” He offers before really thinking, his heart pace quickening as he tries his best to resolve your discomfort. Sure, it’s fun to watch you struggle, but all he wants is for you to be happy. “Really, I don’t mind—”

“No, it’s— I mean, it’s okay, really.” You stumble over your words, flashing him an appreciative smile before lowering your head once more to the ground.

Well, okay, he thinks. You’re clearly struggling to get through the scene, and though he’d rather you welcomed his help with open arms, he doesn’t mind watching you grow increasingly riled up by the exaggerated gasps and sighs from the show. In his more perverted mind, it’s easy to imagine that he’s watching porn with you right now, a quick look back at the TV screen shows naked bodies rolling around together, sharp inhales and teasing giggles. He wonders if you’d react the same way to him, then just as promptly he corrects himself and knows he’d have you moaning louder than that. And deep down in the pit of his stomach, or a bit lower than that, he feels as though this is his chance to show you that fact too, sighing to himself as he tries to resolve his inner conflict— and obviously fails. Because it’s about you, and he hasn’t a hope in Hell when it comes to you.

“You sure?” His voice is soft, spoken lightly and carried with faux reassurance while his hand stretches out to meet your trembling thigh, sucking air in through his teeth at the way you jump from his touch. “I don’t mind, cause it seems to be… Getting to you, y’know?” He smirks through his words, knowingly teasing you despite his heart wanting nothing more than to soothe. Can’t help it, you’re too cute like this, all blushy and pouty thanks to his words. And given the chance, he’ll do more than just soothe things for you anyway, so he doesn’t feel too bad in his taunts. He notices your thighs squeeze together in response to his words, or maybe it’s because of his feather light touch, he doesn’t mind either way. Regardless, his cock stirs in his tight pants at just how easy you seem to be, how innocent and sensitive you’re acting, shying away from his view at just how quickly he’s picked up on the state of you. You like this scene, maybe a little too much, huh? Not that he’s complaining, his own heart racing at just the light drag of his knuckles up and down your leg, catching the way you shiver into him, the small bite of your lip that causes his cock to jerk against his leg. Ah, maybe confessing can wait a little bit longer.

It takes him a moment to find his voice again when you refuse to answer, and he’s surprised to hear the breathy tone he carries with his words— “You can… Y’know, deal with it, if ya want.” He pauses, gauging your reaction to his invitation to touch yourself. Internally, he’s debating on his next words with extreme caution. Sure, it’s normal to masturbate, everyone does it, everyone knows everyone does it. But, is it too weird to talk about it with your friends? Maybe only if they’re the opposite gender, right? Because he’s had countless conversations about the topic with Sam, but never with Abigail. And he realizes then that it’s because he’s got a crush on you, and rather than it being an invitation, it’s an attempt at begging. “Really, I don’t mind.” He simply settles on, smiling reassuringly at you when your eyes finally meet his. And it’s true, he doesn’t mind, would relish the opportunity to relieve himself in private too if he’s honest— the look you’re giving him going straight to his cock as he imagines fucking his friend right on the very couch you sit on.

And then quietly, almost inaudible, he hears you squeak: “Really? You’re okay with that?” and he all too eagerly nods.

“Absolutely. Who am I to judge what you get off to, right?” He half laughs, attempting to make the otherwise awkward situation just a bit less embarrassing for you, shifting in his seat to hopefully make his hard cock less noticeable. “Take your time, I’ll be right here—”

Oh, wait, you’re undressing right in front of him? Instinctively, he looks at your face for answers, a quick flit up only to be met with a playful grin. Seductive, maybe? He knows better than to assume, though more than that, he knows better than to speak up when your crush is taking the first step towards assumed intimacy. Well, there’s no hiding his hard on now, is there? Your bold actions causing his pants to feel even tighter, his hands frozen in his lap while he carefully watches you peel off each individual layer of clothing slowly. So slowly that he’s convinced you’re teasing him, the continued gasps and groans emanating from the TV fading into the distant background as he instead favors listening to the soft shuffles of your clothes, the muffled thud as they’re dropped carelessly to your floor. Fuck, he already thought you were pretty before, but seeing you take action like this almost makes him dizzy with how attractive he finds you, and his inability to take the initiative back from you due to how in awe he is of your body only further turns him on. He knows you know well enough that he hadn’t meant to take care of “business” right here and now, in front of him on your well worn couch, but he can hardly complain at how you chose to mischaracterize his words when he’s no better than you are right now. “I—” he tries to speak. “I mean— fuck, okay—” He’s laughing, though not at you, and your cheeky side smirk back at him lets him know you understand.

“Is this okay?” You whisper at him.

“Shit, yeah, no, it’s cool. I— I don’t mind, go ahead.” He struggles to get the words out fast enough, but he smiles back at you when hearing your nervous giggle.

Without realizing, he anxiously runs his hand through his hair, thumbing stray strands out his face so he has a better view of your revealing body. The last item of clothing drops and he exhales harshly, unaware of the breath he was holding up until that point. You’re naked bar your underwear, and he curses low under his breath at the mere sight. This is confirmation, isn’t it? That his feelings aren’t just one sided, that he was taking too long to confess and so your hand was metaphorically forced, swallowing hard at the sight of your hand actually dropping to pet lightly at your clothed cunt. “Fuck y’can’t just— I mean I want you to it’s just—” He’s already gasping, replaying scenarios he’s fucked his fist to at night but coming up empty. Nothing compares to you right now, the cute blush on your cheeks, the way your lips part with heavy breathing. Shit, okay, he needs to tell you exactly how he feels. Wide palmed stroking at his painfully hard cock, no shame left in his system when you’ve just given him a wordless go ahead, he’s ready to cum just from your show of want— but he instead just teases himself. Wants to really show his appreciation of you soon enough, but first he needs to take control back. You’ve had your fun, now let him.

He clears his suddenly dry throat while you angle yourself towards him, biting your lip to presumably stifle moans. No, don’t do that, he thinks, cocky confidence taking over his mind with the understanding that you’re waiting, seeking his command like a good girl— and he’s all too happy to give in to you. Watching you drag a single finger up and down your clothed slit idly, eyeing at the growing wet patch near the bottom, fuck he wants a taste— “You can take em off.” He quickly glances up at you, but as if physically pulled back down, he’s drawn to look at your cunt again, his palm circling against the clothed wet tip of his cock as he leaks precum all over the inside of his pants for you.

And though he’s controlled mostly by his cock right now, he’s still a little surprised to see you listen to his words, his voice coming out in a shocked rasp of “Fuck, you’re really doing it…” which is less of a question and more of an admiration. Because yes, while this is the single hottest thing to ever happen to him, he also genuinely likes you. Wants to be with you for more than just this, but a little indulgence never hurt anyone, right? Seems you agree from how eagerly you get moving, his eyes glued to the spot between your legs as you hike them up a little, knees pressed to your chest to give him such a good fucking view, oh my God, of your pretty little cunt before your panties peel and drop to the pile of your other clothing on the floor. His cock hard and wet, drooling over his legs enough to prompt him into at least unbuttoning his pants to offer just a little relief— only a little. Because he’s more focused on you right now, and how pretty your thighs look when pressed together like that, and how tasty your wet little cunt looks as he finds it difficult to keep himself sat in place at the other end of the couch from you, wanting only to dive head first between your legs to eat you dry— he’s never been hornier than he is right now, and it’s all your fault. He’s got front row seats to the best show in the house— you, and he’s filled with need to show you that you’re a lot hotter than whatever they were showing on TV.

“Touch yourself, please— God,” He ends up begging, too turned on to really care for the embarrassment of sounding so needy, and it seems you’re much the same. A small whine escaping your lips that, he swears, almost makes him cum on the spot. So completely fraught with need for you right now that his body automatically turns to face you, one leg bent and pressed against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, his rock hard cock front and center for you to masturbate to— no regret present on his features as he looks to your moving fingers with glazed over eyes, his mouth remaining slightly agape while he breathes shallowly. This is so much better than anything his mind could create, his chest tight with want for you and his balls full of seed, the palm resting on his cock now digging harder, circling his cock faster in a plead to have you match his pace. You must know what you do to him, otherwise you wouldn’t be taking your time so slowly, bitting on the inside of his cheek with impatience until your finger finally meets your slit and your legs magically open. And fuck, what a sight that is. His hips jut up on their own accord once you’re in position, head tilted back slightly as if to try and calm himself down before snapping back to watch you part your lips and drag a finger from bottom to top on your slit.

No amount of porn could have prepared him for this, the intimacy present in each glide of your finger up and down your cunt, collecting the slick drooling from your hole to drag it back up to your clit. He can hear just how wet you are, heart caught in his throat as he swallows thickly in concentration. “You’re not watching the show…” You mewl, and he has half a mind to pin you under him right there and then.

“Don’t care, this is better.” He’s quick to moan. “Can you— Can you go a little faster?”

You nod, and he has to fight with himself to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull at the sweet sounds you let out at the increased pace. His fist wraps tight around the bit of cock he can reach before he grows immediately frustrated and instead digs his hands under his pants to free his cock some more, sighing into the relaxed feeling of freedom until he once again starts to palm at himself— then he’s tight lipped groaning. He feels like a dirty pervert, touching himself to you touching yourself, and he wonders if you feel the same. He thinks you should feel like royalty, the full effect you have on him in clear display as he touches himself to you, struggles to keep his hands to himself when you sound so pretty for him. And you’re such a good listener too, his cock jerking to the understanding that you want to please him too, fucking your little cunt faster as per his words, your palm sticky with slick that he wants to lick all clean for you.

He can’t hold back much longer.

“Do you mind if I—?” He asks, alluding to his cock as he nods down to it— still clothed, still rock hard and needy, still leaking precum, still wanting to be balls deep in you.

A quick nod of your head and he’s pulling his pants off faster than he’s ever done in his life, boxers coming with them as he clumsily tugs them off enough to kick them the rest of the way, throwing them into his own pile of clothing on the floor to half match your state of nakedness. He hisses into the cold air that kisses his tip once free, almost moaning as it slaps against his tummy with how rigid he is. “So fuckin’ hard—” He hums, mostly to himself, but he’s happy you’ve heard him too given the soft moan you let out too. “Look at what you did to me, fuck, what you do to me—” He praises you, leaning back against the armrest of your couch to fuck his hips forward, just a little, as if to really show off just how much he wants you, his fist quickly connecting to the base of his cock before he’s dragging it upwards to collect the copious amounts of precum you’ve pulled out of him and pulling back down, coating his whole length wet to tug at. And he’s not shy about it either, too far gone with the lust pooling in his tummy to care much for anything other than the need to get off, to get off with you. As he always does, really, even if most nights he’s alone in doing so, but now’s his opportunity to show you how much he likes you— cock hard and ready just for you, because of you.

He doesn’t mind an audience as he jacks off, so long as that audience consists of you. Hurriedly fucking his fist to a desperate tempo to try and quell the butterflies that fill his chest every time you make a sound, pulling the hem of his hoodie up to reveal some of his toned tummy for you to gawk at, to somewhat return the favor. God, you sound better than he thought you would, his own moans caught and quiet as he does his best to instead make room for you, to listen intently, ignoring the loud schlick of his fist pumping up and down on his dribbling cock and rather focusing on the wet squelch of your little cunt. How fast your fingers fuck into yourself, how he hopes to God you’re thinking of him, wanting to replace your fingers for his cock as he so urgently needs to. No words are said, not that he can think of any anyway— head empty and replaced with primal need, wanting moans shared among friends as he gets off with you. How he wishes he could speak though, to tell you how hot you are, how he’s dreamed of this for so long, how he’s so close to cumming just from watching you— doesn’t even have to be touched by you, just being in your presence is enough to get him off. And he’s focusing so hard on the way you flick at your clit, how fastly you circle against it, learning exactly what you like so he can hopefully mimic it at a later date all while he’s thrusting into his tightly closed fist and mumbling your name like some sort of prayer.

He’s getting dangerously close, and he hasn’t even been able to appreciate you like you deserve, show you exactly how he feels about you. And so—

“You wanna— wanna ride me?” He ends up choking out, acting out of pure instinct and talking before fully realizing his words, eyes rolling to the back of his head despite his best efforts when instead of verbally responding, you start climbing towards him. All of it happens so fast, his knees buckling and straightening out on the couch, sliding further down the length of it so that only his head remains on the armrest and you have plenty room to sit on top. His hands work on autopilot, finding home on your hips to help steady you above his lap as your nails rake up his tummy, digging under his hoodie to drag it further up his chest, causing him to moan into the hunger of your actions. Urgency is what he feels, desperate for the feeling of you wrapped around him as you immediately take hold of the base of his cock as soon as you can, his hips bucking into your touch to seek the tightness of your hole, unable to stop the tense moans tumbling from his open mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, guide it in— Sit on it, yeah?” he hopelessly babbles, fingers digging into the fat of your waist to try and pull you down his cock as you catch the tip to your hole— and then he’s done for. Completely at your mercy as you slow the tempo down, gradually fucking more of his length into your little cunt with subtle bounces until he’s all the way inside and he can finally breathe again. It’s difficult keeping himself held back enough not to hurt you when you feel better than anything he’s experienced before, his jaw strained and appreciative moans high-strung as he wills his hips to still for a second or two, let you grow accustomed to his fat length.

It takes him a second to actually collect his breath though, mind clouded by how tight and warm you are wrapped around his stupidly hard cock— so much so that it’s impossible to form any coherent thought as you sit flush on his lap. “No idea.” He manages to mumble, groaning at the seductive way your breathe huh? in response. Causes his hips to fuck upwards into you regardless of his best efforts, trying to thrust deeper into your tiny hole until there’s nothing left for you to take and grinding his hips against you. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted this, fuck.” His hands dragging your waist down to circle you on his cock for you, doing all of the heavy lifting simply because he can’t stop. “Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ inside of you, shit, y’feel so good—” he continues to gasp, his ass lifted off the couch under him to really drive his cock further into you. The action causing you to whine his name so perfectly, so sweetly as he circles his cock in you that he’s forced into more movement. Like something inside of him snaps, the last remaining resolve he has to treat you right falling the moment he hears his name sounding like that. And then he’s going, his beg for you to ride him thrown out the window as soon as he thrusts once into you, instead forcing you to fall back down on his cock with every precise hump of his cock into you, bouncing you up and down at his own pace due to how powerful and needy his thrusts are. You’re not riding him so much as he’s fucking you from below, keeping you pinned close to his cock so that he’s barely exiting your perfect cunt despite humping you into the air. He holds on to you like his life depends on it, a droning whine escaping his lips at the increased friction he fucks into you with, spilling loads of precum against your insides that inevitably end up running back down his cock with each speedy thrust. And your tits, God your fuckin’ tits, hypnotized by they way they bounce with his fucks— so badly does he want to reach out and grab one of em, drag it into his mouth for him to feed on while he fucks you raw— fuck he’s fucking you raw. A rough growl clawing up his throat at the thought, feels too fucking good to warn you of his predicament, can’t stop fucking into you like he was under a spell.

A shuddered “Tight little cunt, yeah? Feel s’fuckin’ good, shit— Look so hot riding me like this—” cut off only by a gasp at the sound of you so needy for more, his cock throbbing inside of you with want to preform but he’s so close it almost pains him to hold back. He was right, you are louder than the show girl, self assurance running through him and going right to his tip with the confidence that he’s fucking you better, the loud skin on skin slap resonating in the room to drown out whatever is left of the TV. He’s never felt so good before in his life, unable to even imagine going back to a life of just his hand now that he’s had a taste of your cunt, the feeling of your legs squeezing around him as you attempt to match his speed only to inevitably fail from how frantically he thrusts into you from below is too fucking cute, his balls tight and taut as he nears his end before he’s even truly started: something that would be embarrassing if not for the fact that he hopes you understand it’s because you really do feel that fucking good and he’s genuinely that in love with you that he can’t— he can’t hold back any longer. Fucking his dream girl while she displays herself so completely on top? The sight of your tits, your cute scrunched up face, the feeling of your cute little cunt sucking his cock so well? Yeah, there’s no way he was gonna last very long.

“Sorry— M’sorry, babe—” he whines, a high pitched sound to match his eager humps as he’s unable to stop the predictable from happening, looking directly into your eyes in hopes of communicating just how badly he wants to make it up to you immediately following as he thrusts into you a couple more times, fast and hard, burying himself completely into you before shooting a fat load deep inside your tiny cunt. A soft sob of your name followed by loud, gasped moans, like he’s forgot how to breathe again, his hips still obsessively humping into you to prolong his orgasm— the best of his life, might he add— and to fuck his cum deeper into you in some sort of innate need to claim you, insides and all. He said he was sorry, but he isn’t really. Not even when you let out a pathetic whine from the loss of stimulation, promising you: “Jus’ a minute, gimmie a sec.” With harsh pants as he allows himself to come down just enough to move back into action. He wants to act fast, to build upon what he’s just promised you.

“C’mere,” he breathlessly pleads with you, signaling for you to hop off his cock for a moment, forgetting all about the mess his cum will surely stain into your couch. “Jus’ sit right there, trust me.”

And because you’re a good girl, you listen, and he tuts affectionately down at you to soothe the pout you’re sporting. “Lean back a bit for me, yeah? Let me apologize.” He whispers, soft and flirtatiously, helping to guide you into position on your back, similar to how he was just moments ago while he hovers over you. The confused stare you look back at him with is so cute, and he can feel his mushy affection for you edge back in as his cock controlled brain starts to calm down, now focused solely on making sure you’re seen to as his dominant hand dips and disappears between your legs. Not a second later and he’s collecting the dripping cum he’s just fucked into you from your hole, using it as lube to rub gently at your clit as you look at him with shock. “Told ya.” He smiles, rubbing soothingly at your inner thigh with his free hand while he strokes your puffy clit. “Sensitive girl, made me feel so good, fuck— Y’look so pretty like this,” he dotes on you, hoping his words will help you get off where his cock failed— though he doesn’t think you mind too much. Not with how your grasping so insistently to his loose hoodie for stability, or from the way your legs wriggle and draw him closer, the room filled with your enticing moans each time he completes a circle on your clit. Now, with a clearer head and with you quite literally in the palm of his hand, he coos down at you with intent. “Think I love you. Really.” And he can’t stop the loving smile that tugs on his lips, nor the surprised sigh that sneaks up on him as he feels your locked thighs tremble around his back.

Next time, he’ll have you cumming on his cock. He has to, the sight of your back arching into him, the lewd expression you wear so well with the voiceless moan, fuck, he can feel his cock harden again just from pleasing you. His heart full at the thought that hearing his confession is what finally made you cum, humming quietly down to you while he finger fucks you through your high, thumb still rubbing lightly against your used clit while you gush for him— “So pretty, good girl.” He compliments you, praising you for a job well done in getting him off and satisfying his need to see you finish, too. It’s all he wants, really. To make you happy by any means necessary, and he’s happy to fill the role you had him play tonight any day, gently helping you come down from your high with slowly decreased movements until you lazily smile back at his adoring expression.

“Feelin’ good?” He asks calmly, because he obviously knows the answer already, but he wants to check in with you regardless.

You nod sleepily, followed by a soft “Mhm, thank you.” Before reaching you arms out for him to lean into, and he enthusiastically gives you what you’re seeking, his half hard cock resting against your sticky cunt as he wraps his arms around you too, pulling you in for a tight hunched over hug on your (now) stained couch.

Better than any show ever, he’s sure.

“I meant it, y’know.” He whispers against your neck after a silent moment, nosing further into it until he’s able to place a few light kisses against your heated skin with a smile.

“I know.” You reply, and he can’t help but remain hopeful when you squeeze his body tighter, wrapping your legs around him further to ask for more closeness. “But you made me miss my favorite show, so…”

He laughs a genuine, deep, bark of laughter against your shoulder before he huffs defiantly, pulling himself off your exhausted body with the intent on chastising you for alluding to the fact that your show is better than his sex, but he can’t find any strength left in him to tell you off after catching sight of how pretty you are when all fucked out. So instead, “I know, I’m sorry.” He relents, sitting back into his original side of the couch to stretch out a bit. “We can try watching again after a shower, if you want?”

“Yeah.” You yawn, and his heart hurts with just how much he loves you. The simplistic domesticity of the moment getting to his head as you extend a hand for him to hold, to help you get to your feet. “I’d like that.”

He’ll just have to get your return confession out of you… After your show.

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv seb smut #stardew valley seb smut #sebby🐸

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