f1 racer!satoru 💭🏎️
a/n: hi friends ! i have had this au rattling in my head like a damn maraca for SO LONG im so glad i finally got around to putting it out for yall :3 this might be for a very niche group of people but i hope the five of you who enjoy f1 will appreciate this 🙏 let me know what yall think if you’d like him to make a reappearance in drabbles or one shots !! <3
masterlist
f1 racer!satoru who is mercedes golden boy, replacing lewis hamilton after his move to ferrari, going toe to toe with the likes of red bull and Ferrari racers
f1 racer!satoru who is loved across the grid and in the general public, think Italian men with charles leclerc, he’s the people’s princess, truly
f1 racer!satoru who dominates his rookie year, leaving everyone stunned at how truly talented and amazing he is
f1 racer!satoru who has the most followers on social media from everyone on the grid, everyone fawning over him constantly
f1 racer!satoru who loves the attention, but all of it seems so meaningless the second he meets you, falling hard and fast from the couple conversations you had, giving you free tickets for the race in an attempt to get more time with you
f1 racer!satoru who shows up and shows out the Grand Prix that weekend, eyes searching the crowd as tries his best to focus on his post race interviews
f1 racer!satoru finds you in the crowd as he steps onto the podium, smile widening and dimples popping out, he’s laughing as his podium mates douse him in champagne, all of them taking a swig from the comically large champagne bottle
f1 racer!satoru who says his to you with champagne dripping down his face and off his snowy hair, asking what the odds were of you letting him take you out on a date where he’s not working
f1 racer!satoru who is impossible to not fall for, with his witty replies and pretty blue eyes, he has you weak in the knees and on FaceTime every night
f1 racer!satoru who takes you carting, letting you win and treating you to dinner afterwards, buzzing with nervousness as he asks you to be his
f1 racer!satoru who is elated to have you as his partner, having you fly out with him whenever you could to his races, explaining everything about formula 1 to you beforehand, chest warming when he realizes how focused you look on his every word
f1 racer!satoru who develops a pre-race ritual with you, having you hype him up and giving him a good luck kiss before the two of you walk out of his driver room and into the garage, he’s zipping up his driver suit and asking you to help adjust his balaclava, smiling when you kiss his nose and wish him luck
f1 racer!satoru who seems to become even better after he started dating you, managing to podium every race and putting up a fight against a dominating red bull team; in every interview he says it’s not only the car but his amazing lover who helps him push every lap
f1 racer!satoru who has a picture of you in his helmet as his lockscreen, and you have one of him in his fireproofs as yours
f1 racer!satoru who gets dubbed ‘the grids angel boy’ after you commented on his post fresh off his Japan Grand Prix win ‘congratulations my angel boy’
the entire grid loves you, announcers and commentators always excited when you show up to a race, cameras showing you in the Mercedes garage ‘and we have y/n in the garage today!’ you smile brightly at the camera, ‘i guess we know who’s gonna get pole position for qualifying tonight’
f1 racer!satoru who drives you around in his fancy Mercedes, sports and classic cars, exploring every city with you, treating you to expensive food and presents, walking hand in hand with you down the streets of Monaco, taking pictures of you at the beach in Miami and sending flowers when you can’t make it to his races
f1 racer!satoru who is absolutely smitten over you, adding your initial to his helmet hidden among the design, showing it to you with sparkling blue eyes as your heart flutters
f1 racer!satoru who runs to you after every race, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you on the lips before celebrating with his team
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The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.
ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄
ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄
ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄
author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me
Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.
While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).
Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?
No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).
Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.
In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.
All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.
That was before you came along, of course.
The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.
When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.
He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.
Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.
Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.
And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).
And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.
You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.
Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.
But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)
So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.
Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.
Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.
The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"
Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"
With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.
It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).
"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."
"Really!?"
"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."
As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"
"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.
"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"
"Oh? Do you not like it?"
You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"
Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.
You also love to hop onto people a lot."
"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"
"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.
"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.
"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.
Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.
Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.
A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"
And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."
Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.
"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"
He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"
"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.
Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.
"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"
At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.
He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.
Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.
"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.
"Hm? What is it?"
You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"
He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).
A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."
"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."
"What, like cheese?"
"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."
You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."
- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
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✯Hoodie Pt.1✯
Summary: Matt can't seem to let go of his ex-girlfriend
Warning: angst, cigarette smoking, I think that's it.
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See, it's been a whole summer since I told you we were done
It's been one whole summer since Matt broke up with her. He doesn't even know why he did, he was just wrapped up in his head and let his thoughts ruin the only good thing for him.
Heard you found a new someone, I'm happy you're moving on. Tell my friends that I'm over ya, I don't miss you at all
Matt heard through the grapevine that she started to move on. He wanted to be happy for her, she deserved it. When his friends would ask how he felt bout it, he would say he's over her and that he didn't miss her at all. After all, he was the one that broke up with her.
But I'm still riding round With your hoodie in the car
Matt knew deep down he wasn't over her; hence why he would drive around at night with her hoodie in the passenger seat, trying to clear his head. It was his favorite hoodie of hers. It was Y/F/C and still had hints of her scent attached to it.
I saw your friends at the mall, they said that you been living lavish
Yeah, you flying solo, you only got designer baggage
He ran into her friends at the mall one day. Being the protective friends they are, they made sure to let him know she's doing great without him. They told him how she finally moved into her own spot, it's decorated lavishly, and she's living the life she deserved. he couldn't help but ask if she was still seeing someone.
"She's flying solo, she doesn't need a guy to hold her back."
You seem so happy like you don't think of me at all, While I still ride around with your hoodie in the car
Matt would torture himself by stalking her socials. All he saw were pictures of her at parties and different outings. It doesn't seem like she's upset at all about the breakup, she seems happy not thinking about him. He couldn't help but be envious of her. she's thriving while he still holds on to the memories of her, wishing he had her back.
Weekends passing, I'm still not moving on
Like traffic on the freeway in the hot, hot sun
It's now September and Matt still isn't over the girl. he's stagnant. Every day he wakes up and thinks of her, hoping if he rolled over she would be right there, instead it's just her damn hoodie.
This scent of you has faded but I'm still holding on
He holds the hoodie in his hands, rubbing the material through his fingers. He goes to smell it but he realizes the scent of her has faded. Tears form in his idea at the thought of her finally fading away from him. He stands up and starts tearing his room apart, looking for a specific item. He finally finds it, a spare bottle of her perfume.
I just smoke a cigarette and ride around With your hoodie in the car
Matt was so stressed, he resulted in going back to smoking. He stopped while they were together but he couldn't handle the stress of the breakup. So here he is, driving down the streets with the windows down, and her hoodie in the passenger seat.
I wanna be okay
But you, you're always in my head
Matt knows this isn't a healthy way to live. He so badly wants to get over her and finally be ok and move on, but he can't. She's always in his head, laughing, smiling, dancing, kissing...
But I'm still riding around with your hoodie in the car
Matt pulls over on the side of the road and throws his head back. He looks over and sees her hoodie, taunting him.
But you, you're always in my head
"fuck it"
My head
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something small i whipped up! i hope yall like it!!
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