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jamminvroomvroom · 4 months

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something in the orange.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando can’t always have what he wants. and neither can you.

i’m so back! missed u xoxo i kinda hate this with a passion but i had to force myself to write something bc i was getting the writers jitters lmao. pls tell me what you think and what you want next! hugs

inspired by: something in the orange by zach bryan (ouch)

songs to set the mood: call out my name by the weeknd, all of evermore actually, leave the door open by the silk sonic

warnings: 18+!! minors, BEGONE!! smut, angst, wee bits of fluff, language, alcohol mentions, inappropriate workplace relationship (reader is an engineer @ mcl), slight age gap (r is older), mutual pining, mutual denial (kinda), unprotected sex (L bozo)

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the first time it happens doesn’t really count.

you’re drunk and lando’s worse. tensions boil over at some after party, neither of you can bare it, and he’s shoving his key card into the slot of his door while he sloppily kisses your neck. you cannot take

any responsibility for your actions that night and disregard it as a write off.

explaining away the morning after, when you fuck him again, sober and begging, is a different story.

oh, well.

it happens again. and again, and again, and again.

different cities set the mood and the danger turns you on. you trade your mclaren administrated work shirt for lingerie, and your inhibitions for good sex.

he’s younger, just a couple of years between you, but he doesn’t show it. he makes you forget it, every single time he rearranges your spread limbs on a mattress. he makes you forget his age, and the fact that careers will be over as soon as another soul finds out what you get up to when the chequered flag falls.

lando makes it easy. a flick of the wrist and a curl of the tongue makes you sob, and he smirks into the crease of your thighs every time. and when it’s over, and you’re both spent under linen sheets, you can’t even regret it. not when he makes you laugh until you cry and keeps you warm as you drift off to sleep on the rare occasions that you let yourself stay.

it can’t continue. it can’t, you tell him and yourself. every morning after is punctuated with promises that this is the end. and every time, you manage without each other until the next race weekend, when he looks at you in that knowing way that makes your thighs clench.

lando can’t think straight.

he never can when he slides between your thighs. it feels like home.

you’re somewhere in the middle east, he can’t actually remember where right now, not when he pushes deeper and you clamp down around his cock, so hard that he chokes out a shaky breath.

“how do you feel even better every time?” lando groans, grinding into you nice and slow.

you slur out a moan in response, tipping your head back even further as you do. it gives him the perfect opportunity to burrow into your neck, kiss over your collarbone, rock into you harder.

everything is warm, slick. this whole situation, it’s a well oiled machine now. lando sends a text and you turn up five minutes later. he ushers you into the room and then, clothes leave a trail from the door to the foot of the bed. what was once a place holder, a way to get some after a shitty race, had become something to look forward to, something that made his heart race. the anticipation, the danger of you made him weaker than he ever had been.

at first, he hated the hold you had on him. it didn’t mean that he could end this, though, not when he couldn’t help but stare at you in the garage. not when he was transfixed by the glimpse he’d get of your collarbone under your work blouse, or the stray hairs that fell over your face when you were concentrating on the data screens.

“lando, i need- i need…” you gasp, trailing off as you arch even further into his sweat glistening body.

lando smirks, sliding a hand down your

body, pinching your nipple on the way. he already knows what you need. he finds your clit, teasing over it a couple of times.

you lock eyes, warning him to give you what you want. he just grins, licks his lips and continues faint glides over the bud. it sends shockwaves over your body, and you convulse underneath him. you writhe, and writhe, and whimper and keen as your orgasm washes over you. his eyes snap shut, barrelling into you as the pleasure hits.

then, there’s silence.

he lays on top of you while you both return to planet earth, no sound but pants of breath and a soft hum from you when he finally pulls out. you smile softly when you rise from the bed, swinging your shaky legs over the side to stand.

“you staying?” lando breathes. he’s laying on his front, arms flexed as they cross beneath his head.

“not tonight, lando.” you tilt your head apologetically, voice soft and sweet. he frowns. you ignore it, and search for you underwear.

“come on, stay.” he sounds desperate to his own ears, cringing at the way the words come across, but your filter it out. you’ve become an expert at navigating - and more often than not, ignoring - the emotional strings that he tugs on. the ones that attach to your cold, cold heart.

“can’t. you’re gonna have the team here bright and early. ‘m not risking jon seeing me here when he comes to wake you up.” you explain, jumping into your jeans as you tug them up your legs.

“he won’t care.” lando argues, childlike in his negotiating.

“i care.” you scold. you hear the soft thud of his head hitting the pillows. you know you’ve won this round.

lando’s quiet for a while after that, letting you dress yourself. as you’re searching for the bag that you can’t remember if you brought or not, he springs from the bed, making a beeline for the door. you think he’s being gentlemanly, but quickly realise you’re being foolish. the fucker is blocking your exit.

“lando.” you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms, unimpressed.

“i know, i know, i’m gonna let you go. i just…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, pondering his next words.

“you just…” you usher him along.

“i’ll let you go if you promise to have dinner with me over the summer.” he smirks.

“are you… have you lost the plot?” your eyes almost bulge out of your head.

he tried this, sometimes, tried to get you to go on a date, or get you to do something alone that didn’t involve engineering or a surface that you could fuck on. you’d naively thought he was past this.

“can we just try?” he gives you a look somewhere between i want you so bad and the infamous lando norris puppy dog eyes. lava heats your cheeks and your belly, and the butterflies come out of hibernation. you couldn’t deny, you wanted to try. but, at what cost?

“text me.” you murmur, gesturing for him to move.

“so, that’s a yes?” lando questions.

“text me, and i’ll think about it.”

he decides that he’s gotten the best possible answer out of you, and finally let’s you make your great escape.

you almost collapse on jelly-like knees the second the door shuts behind you. standing your ground with him was getting too difficult, too tiresome. the boy was hard fucking work, and he always got what he wanted.

you’d often daydreamed about him taking you out, getting dressed up nice to sip wine and eat too expensive food, and eventually getting undressed. you realised, however, that those kinds of thoughts were to be banished, after you got caught up in fantasies during a race and almost had the pit crew put mediums on during a bout of rain.

wanting him was dangerous. it could be career ending, reputation destroying, heartbreaking.

one date wouldn’t hurt, just to satisfy his appetite. he’d probably get bored eventually. you wouldn’t let it get further than one meal, one last night with him, and then it would stop.

one more time. just one.

you’re waiting on your sofa for the text that tells you he’s arrived.

your hair is curled, messy. just how he likes it. you’re wearing something short and black. your high heel taps against the floor as you bounce your leg nervously.

he’d texted, just like you’d told him to, and then a date was set. just one dinner, one time only. you were gonna tell him that, too.

it’s a bit of fun, you think. dinner and shag. companionship. it was lonely on the road, and sometimes each other was all you could have. it made sense, you figured, that he had honed in on you. you’d done the same to him.

just when you think he’s late, there’s a knock on your door. you were an expecting an “i’m here” text, not the full package. after all, this date was just a formality, right?

you try not to shake as you make your way to the door. lando looks so good that you almost cave and say, “sure, let’s give this a go, eh?”. he’s wearing a shirt that fits painfully well, clinging nicely to a delectable frame. the buttons he’s left undone provide a gorgeous window to his collarbone and the necklaces that hang from his thick neck.

“you look beautiful.” he compliments, rakes his eyes over your body.

“don’t look so bad yourself.” you try to tease but it comes out flustered. you ignore the way his eyes light up.

“you ready?” he asks, you nod.

your heart flutters when he effortlessly takes your hand in his.

the restaurant is in the middle of nowhere, and you’re the only two people dining. maybe it’s because of the ‘closed’ sign that gets placed on the door when you arrive. so, he’s gone all out, you think. you’re shocked at how hard he’s tried to keep this private. maybe this isn’t the formality you think it is, maybe this isn’t his way of feeling better about meaningless sex. maybe it wasn’t as meaningless as you pretended it was.

he had you belly laughing within minutes, laying the charm on thick. wine and conversation flowed effortlessly and you were quickly regretting saying yes to this. you were in danger.

in a moment of silence, you catch his eye from across the table.

“you know, this is a one time thing, right?” you almost whisper. you almost kick yourself, why would you say that now? it doesn’t even phase him.

“that’s what you think.” he grins, devilish and stunning.

“i mean it.” you smirk.

“sure you do, honey.” he says, it sounds a lot like ‘game on’.

you stir, eyes slowly fluttering open. orange light washes over you, dancing in the pair of eyes you find staring back at you.

the eyes watching you sleep belong to the same person whose strong arms are wrapped around you, nice and secure.

you croak out a good morning, and he grins at how hoarse you sound. it was all his fault for making you whimper and scream, begging and crying for a release.

the date had gone really well.

“coffee?” lando offers.

“just the one, need to get home.” you bring things back to reality.

two coffees and four orgasms later, you head home.

the blurry pictures of you and him leaving the restaurant make you ill.

no one can quite tell it’s you, not yet anyway. twitter is ablaze.

faceless accounts call the blurry woman in the pictures the cruelest of names. you cry for hours, and then you stop for a bit, cry some more. rinse, repeat.

you pull on a jacket, scramble for your car keys. this time, you’ll mean what you say.

there’s a knock on the door.

when he opens it, you shuffle inside like you always do, coat hangs on the hook with a scarf to match. silence lingers until you reach the kitchen. the kettle hisses. you didn’t even know that he knew how to use one.

“this has to stop.” you say. emotionless. inside, agony sinks into every emotional cut and scrape. you don’t let him notice.

“i know.” he agrees. he’s seen the pictures, too. “okay.”

the kettle is forgotten, two mugs abandoned; he carries you to bed.

one last time.

two fingers loosen you up for him, drawing you steadily over the edge. he doesn’t stop there, no. he slows right down, letting you ride out your high, but only for a second. he speeds up once again, grinding his fingers into you at godspeed, and you feel your eyes dampen with tears.

your entire body glistens with sweat and your release, the overstimulation making your toes curl and your back arch. you wonder if the tears streaming down your face are just a result of the way his fingers are curling so deliciously against your walls, so good that it hurts, or if it’s because you know this will be the last time he gets his hands all over you.

“lando,” you cry, grasping at nothing. he’s got you naked in the middle of his bed, and he’s still fully clothed, kneeling between your spread thighs like a man on a mission.

his motivation is to make you stay, to make you regret the fact that once this is over, you’re choosing not to come back. his need for you, that raging desire that fuels your every encounter, it has only increased tenfold since the night of your date. but lando isn’t stupid, he knows that after those photos were published the brakes were on this… thing. this was his only chance to convince you to keep this going, but he was fighting a losing battle.

“what do you want, honey? you want me?” lando grunts, speeding up even more. you didn’t think that what he was doing was humanly possible, but the stars you saw and the way your body was practically levitating off the bed said otherwise.

“only gonna have me one last time? is that really what you want, baby?” he continues to run his mouth, crooning over you. you call out his name, begging. begging for another release, begging that you could stay here forever. with him.

and then you see white and god, and you convulse until you’re collapsing into the mattress. your vision is blurry from the tears and the haze and the unwavering emotional torment.

you grab at him, languidly pulling him in. it takes all the strength you have left to secure him, your feet shoving his jeans down his hips while your hands rip his t-shirt off. you’re keening, too sensitive and too needy. you’re agonising over his touch, you need him to sink so deeply into you, so that you can feel him when it’s over and you’re far away from what almost feels like home.

his breath shakes and his eyes gloss over when he pushes into you.

“let me stay like this, just for a minute.” he chokes out. you nod rapidly, your eyes squeezing shut. he kisses into the crook of your neck, panting and mumbling sweet, painful words over and over.

your hands run over golden planes of warmth and muscle, memorising every dip and crease of him. he slowly rolls his hips and your belly clenches, veins set alight. one of his hands scoop up up your wrist, and the motion creates a deep grind unlike anything you’ve ever felt. your wrists are pinned above your head and lando hovers over you so that he stays level, continuing that slow grind, hips hitting yours hard and slow.

he draws a low whine from the back of your throat, one that makes his hips stutter and your pussy clamp down on him as a pleasurable result. you can feel fingerprints forming around the tender skin of your wrists and you want him to dig in harder, slip into your veins and become a permanent part of you.

lando’s eyes are greyer than you’ve ever seen them, boring into your own. you don’t think you ever break eye contact, staring deep into his soul as he stretches every possible part of you. he doesn’t want this to end, you can’t pretend that you do, either.

he changes his angle slightly, long strokes replacing the short drags, but he keeps hitting deep. something possesses you to lean in, as much as you can given his hold on you, and you capture his lips in a kiss that takes him aback for a second. he melts into it, though, and then you’re chest to chest. tongues meet, and moans meld, your legs snake around him like vines.

“need you to come for me, honey. one last time, yeah? need you to feel good for me, baby.” lando mumbles into your mouth, wet and hushed. it’s overwhelming, and everything goes blank. all you are aware of is the burst of pleasure, his hold on your limp wrists, and two grey green eyes that are begging you to stay.

you get dressed quickly, whisper goodbye, and disappear out the door. something stops you, and you need clarity, for him more than for yourself.

you peek round the door, finding his unwavering gaze. your forehead creases, awkward anguish. the way you’re looking at him, deep and sympathetic, it makes you ache. this may well have to be the last time you look at him this intently. it stings.

“it’s better this way, you know?” you murmur.

lando nods, begrudgingly, yet obediently in defeat.

and then, once more, you’re gone and the latch on the door clicks somewhere far away in his apartment. he sinks into the bed, drowning in bed sheets and agony. his head thuds against the pillow and he stares out the window. the orange sunset makes his eyes burn. there’s something about the colour that makes him nauseous now that you’re gone.

a few days later, you’re in a meeting that you can’t focus on. he’s sat opposite you, not that you spare him a glance. it’s too painful.

you’ve been here for hours, your body becoming one with the office chair that you’re sinking deeper and deeper into.

yes, the car needs to be faster. yes, your heart hurts. yes, we need to up the strategy game.

you zone out, for the umpteenth time, losing yourself in the dark orange sky. it’s getting late. you crave sleep in your lonely bed. while you stare at the swirls and hues of warmth, you shiver.

lando, on the other hand, hasn’t heard a word said since he sat down. not when his eyes instantly find bruised wrists on the other side of the table. they match the bruises on his heart, the ones that you’d left behind when you’d grabbed it, stolen it from its solitude cage.

he watches you watch the sunset, and then the meeting is dismissed and everyone rushes home for dinner.

“who was that you took for dinner, then, noz?” one of the mechanics jeers at lando as you’re leaving the boardroom. those damned fucking photos would never let you sleep well again.

you’re a couple of steps ahead of them, ears perked up. you’re nauseous.

“no one you know.” lando laughs uncomfortably, waving it off. he sounds exhausted.

you fight with the revolving door and rush to your car. you scream as soon as the door slams and you’re in the drivers seat. you thrash against the steering wheel, and then you scream again.

when you compose yourself, and pull out of your parking space, you notice lando’s range rover ahead of you. when you get to the end of the drive, he will turn left, towards london, and you will turn right.

the devil on your shoulder murders the angel in cold blood, silencing the only voice of reason you had left.

when you reach the junction, you turn left, too.

yikes. anyways lmao

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane

removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

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hemmingsleclerc · 4 months

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Welcome Back ┃Sebastian Vettel

Pairing: sebastianvettel x wife!

summary: sebastian and his wife give a surprise visit to the drivers

The sun was setting over the prestigious circuit, casting a warm golden glow over the bustling F1 paddock. The air was filled with the heady aroma of fuel and excitement, as fans and teams prepared for the next race. Unbeknownst to the drivers, a surprise awaited them in the form of a familiar face.

Sebastian Vettel, four-time Formula 1 world champion, was near the paddock entrance with his wife Y/N. After a brief hiatus, they returned to the racing world, not as competitors, but as spectators and supporters. As they walked through the meadow, whispers of excitement and surprise followed them.

Sebastian and Y/N decided to visit the drivers, many of whom had considered Vettel as a role model and mentor throughout their careers, and Y/N as a second mother, having always been there for them since their beginnings. Their first stop was the Scuderia Ferrari garage, where Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz were engrossed in pre-race conversations with their engineers.

The moment they entered, the atmosphere changed. Leclerc and Sainz turned to see the iconic duo standing there with warm smiles. The garage buzzed with excitement as the younger drivers embraced Sebastian like a long-lost friend and Y/N, with her gentle lover, radiated warmth, making the meadow feel like a homecoming.

"It's amazing to have you both here," Charles exclaimed, his eyes shining with admiration. "We've missed having both around!"

Carlos nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it's like having our racing parents back. How's life outside the cockpit treating you?"

Sebastian chuckled, "It's different, but we're enjoying the change. And we couldn't resist coming back to witness the thrill of F1 and catch up with all of you."

The surprise visit continued as the couple toured the paddock. Each meeting was marked by genuine enthusiasm and candid conversations. Max Verstappen, who upon seeing them from afar, ran towards them and hugged them tightly, excited to tell them all of his achievements that he had managed to achieve thanks to their help and support. Lando Norris, who almost fainted from excitement when he saw them in front of him, grabbed them both by the arms and took them to the McLaren garage, eager to introduce them to his new partner, Oscar, and the other drivers enthusiastically shared stories of their trips in the mountains. races and asked the experienced couple for advice.

As Sebastian and Y/N approached Lewis Hamilton's Mercedes garage, the air was filled with anticipation. Hamilton, Y/N's old friend, rival and former teammate, greeted them both with a warm hug along with a big smile on his face.

"Seb, Y/N, it's been too long!" Hamilton exclaimed. "This paddock hasn't been the same without you. We need your wisdom and humor back in the game."

Sebastian grinned, "Well, we're here to bring some of that back, at least for today. But remember, you're doing just fine without us. Keep pushing, and the wins will come."

''It's good to see that I left the Mercedes seat in good hands, George has been fantastic in this new season!'' Y/N exclaimed with a touch of emotion and nostalgia when remembering the boy's first season.

The surprise visit of the Vettel's became the highlight of the racing weekend. The drivers, in the midst of their high-risk world, appreciated the moments with them and the peace of mind of knowing that even if they were no longer there every race weekend, they would always be with them. As the day of the race went on, the echoes of their visit persisted, inspiring the drivers to try harder, not only for victory, but also to make their grid parents proud, who watched them grow up, gave them advices, helped them get up when people started to turn their backs on them, who told them to never give up their dream, and who had given them a new meaning of ''family''.

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vamossainz55 · 10 months

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let's just drive (charles leclerc x reader)

inspired by a request from an anon: would you like to write one for Charles where he can't drive his normal car (for whatever reason), so he asks the reader for help, but she's kind of nervous and thinks there will be some judging? a/n: i took the liberty of making her scared she'll crash, i hope that's okay. i just feel like it fit the prompt better (+ there's something that I don't like about this but idky- so my sincere apologies if you also feel it)

“Here you go,” Charles says, casually dropping the keys in your hand before giving your cheek a kiss. You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice the way all your blood has drained out of your face, or if he’s choosing to ignore it because he doesn’t mention it. Instead he circles around the car to go into the passenger seat.

He fumbles a bit with the door before closing it, having to awkwardly reach over with his left arm to pull the seat belt from the right. He struggles over the cast that’s wrapped around his arm, and for a second you feel sorry for him, but all of this goes away the moment he looks over at you expectantly.

“Come on,” He says. You notice the smile he attempts to fight back, the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and looks away. So he did notice I look nervous, you think to yourself. Dickhead.

Passenger princess. That is what all your friends had decided to call you once you had started dating your boyfriend. It had been an off-handed joke at first, one that was pegged because of your boyfriend’s career, but here you were almost two years into your relationship and the nickname had stuck.

Over the last two years you found yourself behind the wheel less and less, whilst finding more and more comfort in riding shotgun. It’s not that you hated driving, far from that, but he just loved it, offering to take you wherever you needed to go.

That is exactly why the sight of his 488 Pista is making you feel sick, extremely sick.

Regardless of your nerves, you somehow find yourself in the driver’s seat, pulling the seat forward to adjust for your own height. Somehow the car feels even scarier from the inside and you wonder whether calling an uber could be a choice.

“Did you really have to break your arm this week?” You ask as you turn the key. Of course you’re joking, well kind of. You just didn’t understand why you were the one who had to drive. The car roars as soon as the engine is on, and you try not to think how much power it actually has. You can feel your boyfriend’s eyes on you, amused by your whole ordeal.

Your hands are clammy as you hold the steering wheel, looking into the wing mirror. You’re about to change gears, eyes shifting back to the rearview mirror. Reverse, I can do it, you think. There’s a small second of silence right when you’re about to step on the clutch and you can practically feel Charles’ eyes burning into you.

The car reverses, only for a moment before it rocks back forward. You instantly wince, raising your shoulders to your face to wait for the impact that never comes. You hear a snicker from next to you and you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

“You cannot be staring at me like that!” You say, cheeks flushed red, looking at him. Charles only continues to look at you, a smile playing on his lips as he shakes his head. He reaches over to hold your arm, thumb slowly rubbing at your skin. The touch sends a shiver down your spine.

“You’re acting like you don’t drive when I’m off racing.” Charles laughs in between his words, letting out a soft wheeze.

“Yeah- I drive my car. Not a ferrari.” You murmur, trying your best to let the heat leave your cheeks.

“You’re not going to crash it you know?”

“But what if I do?” Your question comes out high pitched and whiny, a stark contrast to how relaxed and laid back Charles seemed. He sucks a sharp breath between his teeth before letting it out with a shake of his head and a smile on his lips.

“First off all- you won’t,” He says as he reaches to turn off the car before reaching for your hand. “And second of all, so what if you do?” Charles asks, snorting at the shocked expression you give him.

“I’m sorry- are we forgetting how much your car costs?” You try to pull your hand away, wanting to prove your point about how stressed you actually are. He doesn’t let you though, only giving your clammy hand a squeeze.

“Actually, I don’t know how much it costs,” Charles says matter-of-factly. You can only groan, because of course Charles Leclerc does not know how much his Ferrari costs.

“Over two hundred thousand euros Charles.” His brow raises slightly, showing slight surprise and you’re a bit relieved by it, hoping that it would be enough for the idea of you driving to stray away. It doesn’t seem to work in your favor though.

“Wait- did you google how much my car costs before this?”

“How could I not?” Charles is back to laughing again, shaking his head in amusement. =

“Amour, it is going to be okay,” Charles promises. “I trust you.” His words are enough to get your shoulders to relax a bit, and for you to take a deep breath.

“But you love your car so much- what if anything happens?” You watch the way he brings your hand to his face, leaning down to pepper kisses into your knuckles. It helps in relaxing you, allowing you to let out a soft breath.

“Come on now, I love my car, but- I love you more.” He smiles at you as he gently puts your hand back down, but you don’t give in, only continuing to look at him with your lips pulled down into a pout. “If you crash it- which I am not saying you will, I won’t be mad. I’m the one that asked you to drive it,” Your silence fills the car and he squeezes your hand again to catch your attention. “Hm?”

“Are you sure?” You ask and Charles only laughs, rolling his eyes before pecking your lips.

“I,” he says before giving you another kiss, “promise that,” and another, “I love you” and another, “more than my stupid car” he finishes, sealing the promise with one last kiss. He takes his time with this one, enjoying the way your lips had curved up into a small smile. Bingo.

“Now will you drive?” He claims victory when you nod in response, pulling away to lean back onto his seat. There’s a moment of silence as your fingers shadow to start the car, but another thought enters your mind.

“Can I have one more kiss?” He knows you’re stalling, and at this point you’ll both be more than twenty minutes late, but he smiles anyways.

“Of course,” He answers, coming closer again. Who’s to blame him though, he did love you most.

#charles leclerc #charles x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #drabble #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader

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thelastairsimblr · 2 months

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Family Pack #4

I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 12 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.

Abreu

A respected food critic, Maria’s opinion is highly valued by all as the towns’ baked good connoisseur. Her husband Joaquin, a renowned pianist, is no exception; he worships the ground she walks on. Together, they project their creative outlooks onto their sons. Santiago, the eldest and a romantic, has the full support of his parents and wants to become a professional wedding photographer. Even though young Rémy feels he didn’t inherit his parents’ imagination, he still wants to make them proud.

Naval

Aparna owned her own restaurant while raising her two girls alone. Hema was able to help out when she was old enough, allowing Aparna to find success and receive critical acclaim by publishing her own cookbook. Today, Hema is focusing on her engineering studies while trying to find love; she’s very smart and sincere, but a bit naive. Ridhi is chasing a riskier path; she wants to be a famous musician. And while Aparna hopes that this is just a phase, she supports her youngest daughter anyway.

Monaghan

As young parents, Stefan and Marianne sacrificed a lot. Stefan became a cop to support his family, but still gets caught up trying to relive his youth from time to time. Marianne longs for the day that she can quit her job at the local diner and become a singer. Soren feels pressure to please his parents, but really just want to play videogames all day while Tatum and Aria constantly bicker, not at all concerned with their parents’ feelings or the wellbeing of Hunter, who just wants attention.

Larson

Quite the jazz singer in his day, Clive is desperate to find ways to stay relevant in the ever-changing music scene. Fiona, longing for the authentic soul who serenaded her years ago, knows she can inspire him again; she’s stood by him through a lot. But until then, you can find the melancholy art critic drinking to yesteryear at the bar. Jade dropped out of college to pursue a career in social media (much to Fiona’s discontent) while Candice is following the artistic path her parents paved.

Agawa

Ever the class clown, Yuto knew that he had a knack for entertaining people. This was only confirmed after he went viral on Social Bunny for the first time! When he told his parents that he wanted to pursue a life in the public eye, they saw it as further evidence that he couldn’t take anything seriously. He makes a decent living streaming video games and his eccentric personality is pure internet gold. Though to be fair, he should probably be a bit cautious with what he says and does online.

Hollifield

As a teen, Whitney’s future looked bright. But she forfeited a lot of opportunities to pursue a whirlwind romance with a boy who had a dangerous edge. They were happy for a time, but it didn’t last and the only thing she kept from that relationship was her daughter Emma. She now works a lowly job in fast food while taking classes at Britechester, hoping to find a career in social media. Her days are busier as a working single mom, but Emma keeps herself entertained by befriending her neighbors.

Catton

Following the loss of her son to avoidable circumstances, Dottie found herself in the care of his two children. Filled with regret for not doing more for her son, the college professor watches the kids like a hawk! She’s keen on using her connections to better their lives. Temperamental Owen does well to make her proud with his grades, but he has an artsy side that he only shares with those closest to him. His little sister Bonnie would rather spend time making friends than studying though.

Qian

After founding a groundbreaking app, Shirong found a place among the company of the rich and powerful. His charming wife Meifing, quite the schmoozer at elite parties, is constantly looking for funding for her next big venture (while also being the go-to-girl for all the neighborhood gossip). Nuo chose to move home after grad school to save money, but is ready to leave and start her own law firm. Her younger brother Haoyu adds to her restlessness by barraging her with his antics.

Sullivan

Atticus’ dad Clifford, a retired veteran, supported his sons’ musical dreams fully, having raised him alone after his wife died. While roaming the world, Atticus met Elisa; a fashion guru with a fiery disposition. The pair had three children and Clifford moved in to help with the newborn. Like her dad, Lydia also wants to be an artist (whether if it’s for her love for acting or a desire to be in the spotlight remains to be seen) while Malicia, afraid of being unseen, finds relief in her friends.

Kingsley-Ramirez

Jaime and Paxton met/moved in together before they could actually get to know each other, both having been new to the city at the time with zero connections. They found themselves compatible not only as roommates, but eventually boyfriends as well! Jaime always puts others before himself; it shows in the passion he has for social justice causes he advocates for. Meanwhile, Pax works a parttime job at a small coffee shop, but is intent on putting himself through school to become a veterinarian.

Tanaka-Murdock

Nigel and Shannon met at Foxbury and developed feelings for each other during study sessions. Though Nigel was the only one to graduate, he admires Shannon for making the decision that was right for her. He enjoys being the breadwinner while Shannon follows her artistic instincts, though he wishes he had his wife’s free spirit. Shannon is quite hard on herself and works tirelessly until she makes something she’s proud of while their son Kason, while a quick learner, really just wants to play.

Miyake

Even if he’s never been the most social person, Kenzo is a loyal and fierce friend to those lucky enough to make it into his circle. A patron of the sciences, he cares deeply about precision and perfection. However, when it comes to raising his son Akira, he wants the boy to follow his own path, even if it’s not exactly the one he would choose for himself. Akira seems to be doing just that; far more sociable than his father, he never fails to leave a lasting impression on anyone he meets.

#the sims 4 #TS4 #sims 4 #sims 4 cc free #sims dump #sim dump #sims 4 vanilla #family dump

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fanfictionalraven · 19 days

Text

Faithfully

Title: Faithfully

Song Inspiration: Faithfully by Journey

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, other SPN characters

Word Count: 4, 904

Warnings: Pregnancy

Author's Note: This was an anonymous request. Such a beautiful song and so perfect for Dean. Thanks for the idea Anon!!

Highway run into the midnight sun,

Wheels go ‘round and ‘round, you’re on my mind,

Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight,

Sendin’ all my love along the wire.

“Another?” The bartender asks Dean, pointing to the beer he’d been nursing for a while.

“No thanks. Work tomorrow,” Dean tells him, tossing some cash onto the bar. He and Sam had rolled into town a little earlier in the day. Some case Sam had found; a witch or shifter or…something. Dean couldn’t remember.

“Leaving so soon?” A sultry voice asks. Dean looks over to find a gorgeous, young blonde sliding onto the booth beside him. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and leans forward to highlight her ample breasts. A hand reaches for his knee but Dean catches her wrist.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. Not happening,” he tells her, letting her go. She rolls her eyes and stands, moving to her next target. Dean laughs lightly, shaking his head.

A few years ago, that would have been all the invitation he’d have needed. They would have wandered out to the Impala, maybe made it back to her place for a night of meaningless sex, and he would have returned to Sam first thing in the morning, satisfied. But all that had changed almost a year ago.

As he heads out of the bar and into the cold, he pulls his phone out, smiling at the screen. The picture that greets him is one of his favorites. It’s from the small “vacation” the two of you had taken only a couple months ago. It was one of Bobby’s old safe houses he’d told Dean about; a beautiful little cabin out by a lake. Dean had snapped the picture of you sitting on the small dock, feet dangling off the edge. You’d teased him about pursuing a career in photography after seeing it.

He finds your name with ease and calls as he climbs into the driver’s seat of his car. It rings twice before you pick up.

“Hey,” you answer. Dean smiles immediately at your voice.

“Hey,” he replies. “Bad time?”

“For you? Never,” you laugh lightly. He smiles even wider at your laugh.

“Still in Utah?” The familiar sound of the Impala’s engine roaring to life comes through the phone.

“Yea. Found the nest though. Taking it out tonight,” you tell him, as you lean back against your car.

“On your own?” Dean asks, voice laced with concern.

“No, Dean,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I’m not stupid, ya know?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N,” he says. “Just…you know…”

“Awwww. You worried about me, Winchester?” You tease him, pushing off the car and walking to your trunk.

“Always,” he admits, almost too quietly for you to hear. Almost. Your smile softens as you open the trunk, glancing around at your weapons.

“You just calling to check up on me?” You ask, pulling a machete out to check the blade.

“No…just…missed you,” he confesses. You swing the machete around quickly to test it out. “Haven’t seen you since…”

“The cabin,” you finish. “I know. I miss you too.”

The two of you had been off and on for the majority of the time you’d known each other. It had mostly been a friends with benefits situation until last year. Suddenly, you were way more on than off. It was starting to feel like a real relationship. You hadn’t slept with anyone else and Dean said he hadn’t. You trusted him, of course.

“I’ve been thinking…” Dean starts, seemingly getting the subject away from…feelings.

“Haven’t hurt yourself, have ya?” You ask. You can practically hear Dean roll his eyes.

“Will you shut up? I’m trying to be serious here,” he tells you. You laugh and slam the trunk closed, machete in hand. Your cousin’s car pulls up, parking next to your own. You smile and wave at her.

“Serious. Right. Sorry. Go ahead,” you say.

“I was thinking you should come to the bunker,” he says. You smile and roll your eyes.

“I was planning to come by after this,” you tell him. He sighs and cuts the engine off, having reached the motel.

“No, Y/N. That’s not what I meant,” he says. You hold up a finger to your cousin, asking her to give you a minute when she gets out of the car. “You should move…into the bunker…with me.” You’re mid swing on the machete when he asks, causing you to freeze. The machete slips from your hand, landing near your cousin.

“Jesus, Y/N!!” She snaps. You wave a hand at her in apology as you walk away.

“What are you saying, Dean?” You asks. He lets out a chuckle.

“I’m saying that…I’ve really started to hate sleeping alone, sleeping without you. I hate waking up without you,” he starts. “Now, I don’t wanna tie you down or anything. Do your hunts, whatever you want. I just want the bunker to be…home.” You hold the phone away for a moment and breathe deeply. You were mere moments from clearing a vampire nest. You weren’t about to cry. Returning the phone to your ear, you can’t help but smile.

“Dean,” you say. “I’ll go anywhere you go. You’re already my home.” Dean smiles and closes his eyes for a second, thanking anyone who was listening.

They say that the road ain’t no place to start a family,

Right down the line, it’s been you and me,

And lovin’ a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

You walk into the kitchen of the bunker one morning, stretching. Sam’s already sitting at the table, his laptop open in front of him. You smile at him widely and walk over, kissing his cheek quickly.

“Morning, Sammy,” you tell him. He looks at you and laughs lightly.

“Good morning,” he says, watching as you walk over to the counter, humming. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, swaying to the music in your head. “You’re awful perky this morning.”

“Am I?” You ask, glancing back at him. He laughs and nods. You shrug, leaning against the counter.

“I guess you two had a good Valentine's Day?” He asks.

“We had a great Valentine’s Day,” you laugh.

“Well, I’m glad,” Sam tells you, looking back at his computer. Dean comes in, a smile to rival yours plastered on his face. He walks over and kisses you quickly before getting his own coffee. Sam looks at the two of you and starts to laugh. “Is that a hickey??” He asks. You and Dean exchange glances before Dean moves your hair from your shoulder, examining your neck briefly. He smirks.

“Looks like it,” he says. You laugh and shrug at Sam.

“I said it was great,” you tell him. Dean smiles and pulls you in for another kiss, your arms snaking around his neck.

“I found a case. If either of you care,” Sam announces. Dean sighs as he let you go and turns to his brother, taking a drink of his coffee. “Stacy Altman, 19 year old babysitter from Hudson, Ohio was murdered last night,” he says. Dean nods slightly.

“Oh, that blows. But if her name’s not Amara, how is that us?” He asks. You lean against Dean and he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Because her heart was ripped out,” Sam tells you both. You grimace and Dean nods.

“On Valentine’s Day? What is that, like an ironic werewolf? Alright, we’ll check it out. But first, I need bacon.” Dean gives your waist a squeeze then looks down at you. “You coming?”

“Think I’ll hang back, keep working this Amara thing,” you tell him, going to leave the kitchen. Dean smirks and gives your ass a quick smack. You let out a squeak of surprise and look back at him as you go into the hallway. You just hear Sam mutter something about the two of you being disgusting as you head back towards your bedroom.

Glancing over your shoulder, you close the door behind you before locking yourself in the bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror, take a deep breath, then pick up the stick you had left on the counter earlier.

“Please be negative,” you mumble a quick prayer.

You and Dean had only been together for about a year. You were both hunters. God’s sister was currently on the loose and very much out to end the world. This had to be the absolute worst timing. The two of you hadn’t even discussed starting a family. It certainly wasn't on your radar and you couldn’t imagine it was on Dean’s either.

You’d bought the pregnancy test a few days ago when your period failed to make its monthly appearance. You hadn’t mentioned anything to Dean yet, didn’t want him freaking out over nothing. Cause that’s all this was, of course. Nothing.

The timer you had set on your phone goes off and you nearly jump out of your skin. You flip the test over and…

About a day later, Dean pulls the Impala into the garage of the bunker. He sighs as he cuts the car off and lays his head against the steering wheel. Sam looks at him and smiles a little.

“Dean, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like you cheated on her,” he says. Dean shakes his head slightly.

“Doesn’t feel different,” he says. “We just had this great day, things were going so well…”

“She won’t be upset, Dean. Come on,” he says, getting out of the car. Dean frowns then gets out as well. They both get their bags and then head to their respective bedrooms. Dean tosses his bag into the corner then sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands over his face.

You make your way down to the room nervously, wringing your hands. You’d been practicing your speech ever since you’d read the test. You had it all planned out and were absolutely prepared to tell Dean. That was until he’d told you they were headed home. The minute you’d received that text, your nerves had gotten the better of you. You had been running every possible bad scenario, each one worse than the last.

“Dean?” You ask, stepping into the bedroom. You frown when you see him so distraught. “What’s wrong??” You ask. He pats the spot next to him and you bite your lip as you walk over. He knows. He already knows and he’s breaking up with me. You sit down next to him and he turns to face you.

“This case…it was a witch, a curse…it was passed by kissing. I kissed the woman who had it and got it passed to me so she was safe,” he explains. You let out a breath and take his hands in your own.

“Dean, did you think I’d be upset about that?” You ask with a laugh. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m not finished,” he tells you. Your smile falls slightly and he looks at your hands. “The curse, it takes the form of your deepest, darkest desire and then that person or whatever kills you.”

“I’m…guessing that wasn’t me,” you say. He shakes his head. “Amara?” You already knew before he said anything else. From the moment she’d been freed from her cage, she had some weird connection to Dean. It had only been a few weeks since he told you that she’d kissed him and he couldn’t help but kiss her back. It stung, sure, but you knew it wasn’t Dean.

“I don’t want this, Y/N. I don’t want her. I just can’t shake this hold she has on me. Sitting here with you right now, I want nothing more than to kill her,” he starts quickly. “But when I’m around her, I can’t do anything.” You let his hands go and take his face gently, raising it up to meet yours. You press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m not mad at you, Dean. I know you love me. We’ll shake this Amara thing soon enough and get back to normal,” you assure him. “You and me. And…whoever else comes along.” He looks up at you, confused. You smile at him and stand, walking over to the desk. It isn’t until now that Dean notices the small gift bag sitting on it. “It’s a little late for Valentine’s now but…” You shrug and hand him the bag. He raises a skeptical eyebrow at you before pulling the pink and blue tissue paper out of it. He looks into the bag, then up at you quickly.

“Is this…” He stops before sliding the contents of the bag into his hand. His hands shake as he flips it around, trying to find the little screen for confirmation.

Pregnant.

“Oh my god,” he says, staring down at the test in his hand. “This is…”

A mistake. The worst possible timing. Not what I want at all. You brace yourself against the desk behind you, waiting for the death blow.

“This is…incredible,” Dean says finally, looking up at you. There are tears in his eyes threatening to spill over but his face changes the second his eyes meet yours. “Are you okay?” He asks, jumping up quickly. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he looks you over. “Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Which…is really saying something for us.”

“You’re happy,” you say quietly, looking at him. His brow furrows in confusion as he takes in your state.

“What? Of course I’m happy!! I mean…” He stops and shrugs. “Timing could be better but…a baby!!” He lets out a laugh and lifts you into a tight hug, spinning you around the room. You squeal and laugh as well, tears of sheer joy and relief streaming down your cheeks. “I’m gonna be a dad!! Sammy!!” He calls out, setting you on your feet. He grabs your hand and pulls you down the hallway quickly.

Circus life under the big-top world,

We all need the clowns to make us smile,

Through space and time, always another show,

Wonderin’ where I am lost without you,

3…2…1…*beep, beep, beep*

You stare into the microwave as the light goes out. Popping the door open, you grab the bottle and test the milk on your wrist. Perfect temp. You turn to go feed your three month old son and accidentally send the stack of neglected and dirty dishes crashing to the floor.

“Dammit,” you curse, setting the bottle on the counter. Kneeling down, you start to pick up the pieces of the shattered dishes and old food.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, stepping into the room. “What happened?” She comes over quickly to help. You glance up at her and shake your head before hissing in pain. You’d managed to cut your hand on a shard of glass. “Oh, Y/N.” Falling back against the counter behind you, your emotions overwhelm you.

“I can’t do this anymore, Mary,” you cry.

Dean and Sam were missing. They had taken on Lucifer once again and this time he was possessing the president. That was almost two months ago. For two months you've been struggling to take care of your newborn son on your own. Sure, you had Cas and Mary but it wasn’t the same. D.J. needed his father.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I…what do you need me to do?” She asks, handing you a dish towel. Wrapping it around your cut hand, you glance back up at the bottle.

“Could you feed D.J. for me? I just…I need a minute,” you tell her.

“Of course,” she says. She gives your arm a quick, reassuring squeeze before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You lay your head back against the counter and close your eyes, allowing the tears to fall once again as you contemplate life as a single mother. You knew this life was risky, of course. You knew there was always a chance one of you wouldn’t come back from a hunt. You just didn’t expect it to be two months into actually being parents.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cas asks, when he sees you. You shake your head, eyes still squeezed closed as you cry.

Cas frowns as he walks over, taking in the disaster that is the kitchen. He hesitates for a moment before carefully sitting down next to you. You lay your head over on his shoulder as the sobs rake through your body. Cas shifts awkwardly and you feel his arm come around your shoulders, comfortingly. The pain alleviates in your hand and you pull it from the towel, perfectly healed.

“Thank you,” you mumble between sobs.

“I wish there was more I could do,” he says. You wipe at your cheeks and shake your head.

“Please stop blaming yourself. You followed the plan,” you tell him, laying your head back on his shoulder.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, you don’t know how long. Eventually, you sit up and find a clean part of the partially bloodied towel to wipe your face. You rise from the floor and look at the mess at your feet before taking in the rest of the kitchen. You’d really let things slide lately. You sigh and shake your head, going to get the trash can. Mary comes back into the kitchen.

“No,” she says. You stop and look at her.

“What?” You ask, confused.

“You need to go get some rest. Take a shower. Take a nap. Refresh and reset,” she tells you, taking the trash can from your hand.

“Mary, there’s too much to do,” you respond, looking around at the kitchen again. It wasn’t just the kitchen either. You knew the library, war room, and bedrooms needed your attention as well.

“Castiel and I will take care of it,” she says, sending a pointed look to the angel as he gets up from the floor. He nods, looking at you.

“Of course,” he says. Looking between the two, you realize there’s no point in arguing. You were absolutely exhausted, barely able to get any sleep the last two months. Mary smiles at you, reassuringly.

“Shower. Bed,” she tells you. You sigh and nod, reaching for the baby monitor but Mary snatches it up quickly. “I’ve got him too.”

“Okay,” you surrender, holding your hands up.

You head down the hall and steal a quick peek in at your son, sleeping soundly in his crib. Continuing down the hall, you go into yours and Dean’s bedroom, closing the door behind you. One hour-long, steaming hot shower later, you slip into one of Dean’s t-shirts then under the covers. You don’t expect sleep to overwhelm you as quickly as it does. Your last thoughts are the same as they’ve been for the last two months.

Where are you, Dean?

And being apart ain’t easy on this love affair,

Two strangers learn to fall in love again,

I get the joy of rediscovering you,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

Dean smiles politely at the waitress, taking his order. She was clearly flirting with him even though he’d told her about you and D.J. She walks off to put his order in, dinner for him and Sam to go, and he pulls his phone out to call you. It rings three times before you pick up.

“Hey,” you say, smiling. You’re sitting in the library, having just gotten D.J. down for the night.

“I miss you,” he says with a sigh. “This waitress won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry. Is Dean Winchester complaining about being hit on?” You laugh. He shakes his head as he glances around, his eyes landing on the mechanical bull.

“I told her I had someone back home and a kid. She’s still flirting,” he says, watching as someone gets thrown off. He lets out a chuckle. “I was better than that,” he mumbles.

“What?” You ask.

“There’s a…a mechanical bull,” he tells you. You throw your head back, laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“I would pay to see that,” you tease him.

“Hey. I was awesome,” he assures you.

“Man. I can’t believe I missed that,” you say, still laughing. He smiles and shakes his head before someone catches his attention.

“Babe, I gotta let you go. Think I just got a lead on our case,” he says, standing up quickly. Your smile slips slightly and you nod.

“Be careful,” you tell him before he hangs up. You sigh and lean back in the chair.

“Dean’s been hexed. He’s losing his memory.”

That was the call you’d received from Sam earlier in the day. He thought it might be best if you were there to help. Thankfully, Mary had been in the neighborhood so she could keep D.J. for you. You’d peeled out of the garage, tires squealing as you headed for Arkansas, a 7 and a half hour drive. You make it in six.

You whip into the parking lot of the motel Sam had given you the address to and park next to the Impala. Grabbing your bag, you make for the door of the guys’ room and knock quickly. However, it isn’t Sam or Dean who answer the door but Rowena. Your shock gives way to anger almost immediately.

“Did you do this??” You snap, stepping up to her quickly. Her eyes widen in surprise before she smiles.

“Afraid not, dear,” she says. “But I am here to help.”

“Help? Are you kidding?” You ask, looking at Sam as he steps up behind Rowena.

“I know, I know. But...I didn’t know where else to go,” he explains. You sigh and glance around, spotting Dean sitting on one of the beds. He’s laughing at whatever he’s watching on the TV. He looks over and his eyes lock with yours before he smiles widely.

“Hi,” he says, standing. He remembered you. You smile as you walk over to him.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” You ask, your hands resting on his arms. He looks down at your hands then back at you.

“Much better now that you're here,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk. “I’m, ugh…I’m…”

“Dean,” Sam says, frowning.

“Yea. I’m Dean,” he says, introducing himself. Your smile fades as you take a step back. He didn’t remember you. It was worse than you’d thought. Sam’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder and you shake your head.

“I need some air,” you say quietly before leaving the room. Dean frowns as you go and Sam sighs, ushering him to the bathroom to talk. He explains the situation to him, reminding him of everything, everyone. Dean runs a hand over his face.

“So, after everything…that’s it. This is what nails me,” he says. Sam shakes his head quickly.

“No. No, no. Dean. I-it,” he stops and takes a deep breath. “It’s not gonna happen, all right?” Dean looks at him and Sam can see the fear in his eyes.

“Well, you just told me my whole life story. And I gotta be honest, man. I…I can feel it, slipping out of my head. I mean ganking monsters is one thing. But this…” He covers his face with his hands. “I forgot Y/N and my own son.”

“We’ll figure it out. We will,” Sam assures his older brother before standing up. He leaves the bathroom and finds you outside the door.

“Can I?” You ask, pointing to it. Sam nods and steps out of the way. You push the door open slightly and peek in. Dean is standing over the sink, staring at himself in the mirror.

“Okay. My name is Dean Winchester. Sam is my brother. Ugh, Mary Winchester is my mom. Cast - Cas is my best friend. Y/N is my wi…girlfr…” He stops and you sigh before stepping into the bathroom.

“Girlfriend,” you provide. He looks over at you then down, embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him, leaning back against the door. He walks over quickly and wraps you up in a tight hug as though clinging to your very memory for dear life.

“I don’t remember what he looks like,” he says quietly. You can hear the crack in his voice, the emotion choking him up. You’re fighting tears yourself now.

“Just like you. Your eyes and everything,” you say.

“What’s D.J. even stand for?” He asks, still clinging onto you.

“Dean Junior,” you tell him. He nods and looks down at you. “You didn’t really want to name him after you but I insisted. Cause I want him to be just like his father.” He smiles a little before leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re gonna fix you, Dean. I swear.” There’s a knock on the door and you glance back.

“Y/N, we need to go,” Sam says.

“I’m coming,” you call back to him. You look up at Dean once more and take his face in your hands. You stand up on your toes, closing the distance between the two of you, and kiss him. You had to tell yourself this wouldn’t be the last kiss the two of you would share. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he tells you. You can’t be sure if he actually means it or if he’s saying it back to spare your feelings at this point. Did he even remember how much you two loved each other? You smile at him before leaving the bathroom and following Sam out the door. Dean rushes out behind you to the desk inside the room. Rowena watches as he jots down a quick note and sticks it in his front pocket. He glances at her and she raises an eyebrow. “Just a reminder…”

The three of you get back to the bunker later the next day, Dean’s memories restored. Mary meets you all in the garage, D.J. in her arms. Dean practically bursts from the car and rushes over, taking his son. Mary smiles as she hands him over.

“Glad you’re better,” she says, patting his shoulder. Dean smiles at her before kissing D.J.’s forehead.

“Can’t believe I forgot him,” he says quietly. You smile as you walk past, heading towards the bedroom to put your bags away. Dean watches you go before looking at his mother. “I need your help.” She nods.

“Of course. With what?” She asks. He pulls a piece of paper from his front pocket.

“I don’t remember writing it but…it’s my handwriting. And I mean…” He trails off as he hands the paper to her. She reads it and her eyes widen before looking back up at him.

A few minutes later, Dean comes down to the bedroom and leans against the door frame, watching you. You’re busy taking the clothes from both of your go bags and putting them into the hamper to take care of later. You glance back and smile.

“I figured you’d still be spending time with D.J.”

“Wanted to spend time with you,” he says, walking in. He closes the door before walking over and wrapping his arms around you. You smile as you slip your arms around his neck. He leans in and kisses you gently, his hands sliding over your waist slowly. He pulls away too soon and you lean in again. He laughs lightly. “Hold on.”

“I don’t really want to,” you laugh.

“I wanna give you something,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls a folded piece of paper out and holds it up between the two of you. “I wrote this at some point during the whole…hexed thing.” You take it, giving him a skeptical look. He seems nervous and you can’t figure out why. You unfold the piece of paper slowly.

Dean. If you survive this, marry Y/N.

It was scratched onto the paper quickly and sloppily but it was for sure Dean’s handwriting. You can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips as you look back up at Dean. He’s watching you, trying to read your face, as he reaches into his pocket once again. This time he produces a ring.

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

“I, ugh…I thought I was going to have to save up to buy a ring but,” he stops and shrugs. “Mom gave me hers. Didn’t even ask. Said she wanted you to have it.”

“Oh my god,” you say again, swallowing thickly.

“Marry me, Y/N?” He asks. You take a shaky breath as the tears finally start to fall.

“Yes,” you tell him. He smiles widely and pulls you in for another kiss. This time you pull away too soon, holding your left hand up. “I want my ring.” He laughs lightly as he looks at it.

“Dad had it inscribed. I didn’t know that. Mom just showed it to me,” he says. You take it and hold it up, trying to read the inside. You smile widely as you make out the two words. They couldn’t have been more true for the two for you. He takes the ring back and slides it onto your left hand before lifting you and tossing you onto the bed.

Forever yours.

****

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #reader insert #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #request #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #faithfully #journey

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zzzzzestforlife · 5 months

Text

Software Engineer Dairies: Sprint Kick-off 🏃‍♀️👩‍💻

Stand-up 🙌

I was actually social this morning 🦋☺️ (it was standard "how was everybody's weekend?" fare but it got me invited to book club which i'm really excited about because we're reading Howl's Moving Castle!! 📚)

I have to take over more work from a senior colleague who's behind with his own work, which is fine(?) since I know what to do and my help is being acknowledged by leadership at least and I finished all of my existing work already... Should I slow down on purpose so this doesn't keep happening? 😂

Retrospectives 👀

These meetings always feel like getting a bad grade (sometimes good, but more often bad) 🥺 I know it's important to evaluate and improve and that it's not just on me but the whole team... Everyone else seems to be in a good, relaxed mood and taking things in stride, though... so I'll try to take these less personally in the future, too!

Planning 📑

I led a technical planning meeting like a hot mess but done is better than perfect and I got what I needed and got the hell out 😂 Now I have lots of follow-up tasks to deal with~

My senior colleague (not the same one whose work I needed to takeover) led a different planning meeting for his project — I was just there for moral support 😅

I'm also leading our sprint ceremonies now which means I can't multitask during our meetings anymore 😛

Code 🖥️

My pet peeve at work is when people take forever to review my code, so I am always the most responsive peer-reviewer on the team and my colleagues have said many times that they appreciate it and have come to return the favor 😌

I managed to fix an high-priority bug in between all these meetings! 🐞 (I was then immediately assigned another high-priority bug, unfortunately 🙃)

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spamgyu · 20 days

Text

the apartment we won't share // jeonghan one shot

DESCRIPTION: Jeonghan had only broken his promise to you once and he swore to himself he would never put you through that again, even if it meant promising to watch you walk in to another man's arms. PARING: Jeonghan x Reader GENRE: Angst NOTE: Took inspiration from Wooshik and his attendance at his ex's wedding. You have been warned. hehe

Highly recommend listening to the following while you read: the apartment we won't share - niki oceans & engines - niki alright bye enjoy! xx

Adjusting his hair in front of the mirror one last time, Jeonghan let out a puff of air – trying his best to shake away his nerves.

He had been preparing himself for this day for years now, keeping his promise to you that he would not miss out on attending one of the biggest days of your life. Though, he had always thought that when this day rolled around, it would be just like any other celebration – as if he was just attending yet another wedding of his friend's.

And it was; you were his friend.

A friend who he once knew better than himself; now only settling for the updates he would receive every few months, or through your social media posts.

A friend he had once loved entirely, promising you of forever that he had unfortunately had to take back after three years of pure bliss.

A friend who willingly let him pursue his dream, cutting him loose from the ties of a relationship.

The two of you were far too young at the time, both with a promising future that awaited for either one of you. It would have been a stupid decision to try to make a relationship, that was clearly set up to fail, work – with his idol career taking off and your acceptance into law school.

You two may have been young, but not foolish – there was no second guessing that the end had come that random winter night. It was far better ending it while the two of you still had so much love for one another; rather than waiting for the relationship you two had cherished so dearly to implode on itself.

"You're going to meet a great guy one day, Y/n." Jeonghan sniffled, using his thumb to wipe the tear that had fallen from your eye. "And I hope– I hope that one day, I'll be there to see you marry him." "It's not going to hurt?" Your lips quivered; unable to fathom the idea of standing at the end of the aisle with anyone else but him. He shook his head. "I'll be your number one fan." Jeonghan knew it was going to hurt, but what was he to do? The universe didn't write for your story to have any further chapters. Your love story was short, but it was sweet and it will forever be something he would hold near and dear to his heart. The end had come and it was done out of love and respect. "I'll do the same for you too, you know – all the milestones, I'll be there. I promise." "I don't doubt it."

You never did break your promise – attending all the big events in his life. Their first stadium concert, their first day of sold out dome tours across the sea, their first show in the western hemisphere; there wasn't a single one you missed.

In the midst of the crowd of unrecognizable faces, he was always able to pick yours out; cheering loudly for him and his found family.

Just as all their other close family and friends.

Because that was what you were; a friend.

Just as you were there to celebrate him, Jeonghan had been there when you had passed the bar, when you became partner at the firm you had met your future husband, and more importantly... he was there to celebrate your engagement.

He remembered the sour taste that lingered in his mouth as he tired his best to swallow the drink he babysat in his hand; watching you mingle with the family he had come to know in the years he had been in your life.

Jeonghan remembered crying in the arms of his roommate that night as reality had set in – five years too late.

It wasn't like he had plans to rekindle the fire that once burned so passionately between the two of you, but god did it hurt.

He swore he was over it – he had to be. You two were nothing but a memory in each other's lifetime; there was no going back to change the painful fate that your story faced.

But Jeonghan was also human and he couldn't help but grieve the 'what if's'; blaming not only himself but the universe for having meeting you a little too early in his life.

Because if truth be told, if you had come into his life now, there was no way he would have let you go. He now had reached a level of maturity and fame where he was able to protect you from the outside forces he once couldn't imagine putting you through.

"Ready?" Seungkwan popped his head into the doorway.

Smoothing out his blazer, Jeonghan turned to his roommate with a tight lipped smile. "Let's get this over with."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Bringing his hand up to knock on the wooden door, Jeonghan chewed on his bottom lip as he heard the rustling sound – it was only a matter of seconds before he would see you, his heart unable to slow down in the anticipation.

He hated that he had promised to see you before the ceremony; unable to ever tell you 'no'. He would always fulfill his promises to you, all because he had broken one all those years ago.

A gush of air had hit his face when one of your bridesmaid opened the door – yet another wave of reality hitting him.

This time it felt like he had gone under, the water swallowing his body. The second he caught you standing at the corner of the room, he felt as though he was trying to swim up to the surface – his lungs slowly filling with water at the sight of you looking beautiful in an off-white dress.

The hired make-up artist had done a wonderful job highlighting your now matured features; Jeonghan taking in how much time had changed you with each step he took. He never did spend too long looking at your pictures when he scrolled throught your instagram, not wanting the demons in his head to consume him.

It was as if he had seen you for the first time.

"You make a beautiful bride." He grinned as he stopped a few feet from you, shoving his shaky hands into his pockets.

"Thank you." You mirrored his soft smile.

The two of you held each other's gaze in silence, knowing that you weren't only thanking him for the compliment but for so much more.

You two may have drifted apart, now living in two completely different worlds, but you were still able to read him – quite well. You could see how he tried to hide the pain behind his eyes; silently sending him your apologies through yours.

Jeonghan shook his head, taking your left hand in his – his thumb brushing against the rock that sat on your ring finger. "Don't worry about me."

"Don't be stupid," You let out a scoff. "I'll always worry about you."

"Not today," He gave your hand a squeeze. "Today is about you."

"Ten minutes!" Your maid of honor announced from across the bridal suite – not just for the two of you, but for everyone else who had been lounging about, waiting for their cue.

"I should go and find a seat." Jeonghan took this announcement as his sign to bid you a farewell; his mind silently thanking the universe for giving him an out before the tears began to pool in his eyes.

"I'll see you later?"

"I'll be here until the very end of the reception." He reassured, leaning into give you a hug. He didn't care of the possibility of wrinkling the silk off shoulder dress – this was the one and only time he was allowing himself to be selfish.

It had been so long since he felt you in his arms, and for once he felt him surface the water – breathing in all the oxygen he needed for when the other waves in the horizon would hit.

You didn't quite fit in his arms the same way you had before; he wanted to dismiss it as maybe it was the suit, or maybe the fact that there were eyes on the two of you. But deep down, Jeonghan knew – he knew it was because you were no longer meant to be his. You hadn't been in a long while.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

The slow tempo of the piano echoed throughout the room, signaling for all the attendees that the time had come.

Behind the large wooden doors, you were stood holding all your favorite white flowers, a lace trimmed veil sitting perfectly atop your head – ready to take your next few steps into your new future.

As the two venue planners pulled the door open to reveal you, Jeonghan saw the ten foot wave in the distance – bracing himself for impact as he waited for the voice of hired singer to fill the air.

Your cue to begin your walk down the aisle.

Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can't help, Falling in love with you.

There was that wave.

Stumbling back where he stood, Jeonghan allowed for the water to drag him down with each step you took. All the pain he had overcome when he had first grieved the end of your relationship had come back again – only this time, images of what could have been began to flash before his eyes.

The house you two would never purchase, the daughter you two had once jokingly picked out a name for, the ring he never picked out, the dog you two had dreamt of adopting – they all stood dry at the sand while the waves continued to crash against him.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?

You were now half way down the aisle, your eyes remaining trained on the man who waited at the end with tears flowing quickly down his face – except unlike Jeonghan's tears, his were out of pure happiness.

Jeonghan wanted to look away; hell, he wanted to make a run for it – but he couldn't.

He promised.

He had broken his promise before, and he had regretted this since – he didn't want to break another.

Even if it pained him.

As you reached the very end of the aisle, he felt his body hit the sea floor – no longer fighting for a chance to hit the water's surface.

There was no reason to.

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose @wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper @aksweet7 @nikkell @raginghellfire @kriizztin @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @porridgesblog @bbysnw

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#don't fight me you guys asked for this #the jeonghan fic that has been long overdue on my page tbh #anyways heheehehhehee #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan angst #jeonghan x oc #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan fic #seventeen fic #svt fic #svt angst

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infinitydivine · 4 months

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Your Future Spouse's possible career👀

Hello everyone, I am back again with a new PAC reading. Thank you all for loving my previous PAC, I appreciate it.

Choose your pile intuitively. Take what resonates and leave the other things. If you think this reading is not for you then choose another pile. If still it doesn't resonate then this might not be your reading. There are four Piles.

If this resonates with you, DM me to book a reading with me.

My Paid services Ko-fi for support PAC Readings

Pile1-Pile2

Pile3-Pile4

PILE 1

A leader

A Strategist

A Traveler

Creative artist

Educator

Teacher

University Lecturer

Religious leader

Any role that involves imparting knowledge and upholding traditions

Work Mentor

Trainer

Gym Owner

A Startup owner/Worker

Businessperson

Philanthropist

PILE 2

Someone who works in a competitive field

Sportsperson

Business person

Entrepreneur

Fighter/Martial Arts trainer

Someone related to Security

Artist

Healer

Inspirational Figure

It could be a literal Star or Public Figure

Creative Industry

Startup founder/worker

Innovator

Scientist

Market Business/Representative

Animal Rescuer

Museum Curator

An Actor

Singer

Stage Performer

PILE 3

A field that requires energy and enthusiasm

Salesperson

Business owner

Adventure Tourism

Professional horse rider

Professional Car Racer

Life Guard

Counsellor

Nurse

Psychiatrist/Psychologist

Healer (Spiritual or Medical)

Public Figure

Motivational Speaker

Translator

Rescuer

PILE 4

A literal Magician

Entrepreneur

A Public Speaker

A Team Leader/Leader

A Judge

A prosecutor

Lawyer

Policeman/Policewoman

Counsellor

Craftsman/Craftswoman

Creative Artist

Engineer

Technician

Potter

Philanthropist

Thank you for reading this :)

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vroomvroomcircuit · 18 days

Text

Drive all Night

(A/N): This is inspired by the song "Call your mom" by Noah Kahan.

Summary: Max is worried about the sudden shift in his best friends behavior. But he is willing to drive all night to get to the root of the problem.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (little childhood friends to lovers on the side with angst/hurt to comfort)

Warnings: Association to Max's shitty childhood, reader has depression/a depressive episode, implicit mentions of suicide, listen to the song and you get the vibe

Wordcount: 2.4k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

Max Verstappen is not a big worrier. Actually, he is no worrier at all.

When there is something to worry about, he just changes it. If he can’t change it, it’s out of his area of responsibility, so he doesn’t have to worry about it.

Thinking like that helped him focus through great challenges. But his mindset wasn’t the only motivator. Through all his highest highs and lowest lows, his best friend has been right next to him, either cheering him on or being the shoulder to cry on he just needed.

(Y/N) and him befriended each other in kindergarten, having felt this unexplainable pull to each other. Ever since playing with Legos together for the first time they had been inseparable if they could help it.

Of course, as they got older and Max’s career in karting took off and (Y/N) had to focus more on school, they started to shift to calling and texting more than relying on in person talking. But that didn’t stop them staying best friends. One might even argue that through their 24/7 updates to each other, they grew even closer.

Meeting in person in their adulthood had become increasingly easier. Sometime (Y/N) travels with Max to several races back to back, being blessed with a remote working job.

The young man starts to suspect something isn’t going smoothly during one of their daily face time calls with her being in her dark bedroom and him in a hotel room halfway across the world. “But enough of how annoying these marketing things are. What did you do today? Except for work of course.” Max just finished another yapping season about the last challenge the social media teams had him participate in.

(Y/N) just shrugs her shoulders while focusing on a loose thread in her shirt. “Nothing much. I reread pride and prejudice.” Max halts a bit in his rummaging through his suitcase, being on the look out for his charger. “I thought you had plans for lunch with a friend? And didn’t you read through that book last week already? You do know that no matter how often you read it, the ending will stay the same.” He jokes a bit.

While still not shifting her gaze towards the phone screen, (Y/N) answers in mumbles. “I canceled on her. I really felt icky today, but we will try to set up another meet up some time next week or so.”

At first Max doesn’t think of it as much. Everyone feels not like socializing every one in a while. But then something else changes. The frequency of their calls and texts.

“...here we can do- Max? Are you even listening to me?” Max gets caught off guard by that question. GP was going over some points with him before starting FP2. “Oh, uhm, sorry GP. Gimme three seconds, I just want to reply to (Y/N). It seems like she didn’t have a great day and I just want to make sure she’ll be alright until I’m out of the car.”

This makes his race engineer raise his eyebrows. “Oh, what happened?” “I don’t know. But she is rewatching one of her comfort shows for the third time in two weeks.” He blinks at the Dutchman. “And in what way is that concerning?”

Okay, voicing his worrisome thoughts out loud like that makes Max realize that the signs are not too obvious for outsiders. But he is talking about his best friend. The person that always makes sure that he won’t go without his needed amount of sleep. The same person he had been having phone calls that resulted in four out of the last seven nights with him getting not more than 5 hours of sleep, if that at all.

For an outsider it doesn’t seem bad for (Y/N) to reread the same books and rewatch the same shows over and over again. Or having her best friend, the person she became emotionally most dependent on, talk with her through her nights.

But for Max, it raises red flags. It hits his alarm bells, ringing out loud that something is majorly wrong. He can’t put his finger on it, not just yet. He is still looking for a way to get her to tell him what is bothering her.

There is a certain uneasiness to Max during that entire race weekend. He is just itching to seat his ass on a plane on his way back to his (Y/N), a friend that he might harbor more than just platonic feelings for. A person that had his back all the time.

To the person he loves the most, that is also struggling the most right now.

He wants to be able to pay her back for all the times she stuck through his darkest times.

But something in him is scared that he isn’t able to get to her in time. “Didn’t you want to go out with a colleague of yours for drinks last night?” Max asks into the phone while speed walking through the airport. Ever since leaving his hotel room on this fine Monday morning, he has been on a phone call with (Y/N).

A sigh greets his ears. “I wanted to, but I didn’t feel like dressing up or sharing a space with a bunch of strangers. I just ordered some food in and watched your race.”

There is another red flag. (Y/N) maybe was never a big socializer to begin with, but she liked going out every now and then. But for a couple of weeks now the only thing Max gets to hear about plans is that she canceled them.

Listening to her just cutting contact with the outside world like that, it doesn’t only worry him. It’s not even scary. It terrifies him.

The two of them continue talking the whole plane ride until (Y/N) falls asleep. Even then Max doesn’t hang up. He still lets the call continue, not wanting her to wake up and feel alone. She doesn’t deserve to feel alone.

No one does. But especially not her.

When he was in karting, some kids gave him grief for winning most of the time. It was difficult for little Max to understand. So do people not want him to win?

It became more confusing to him since some people around him wanted him to win desperately. It hurt him, not understanding the difference of who wanted his best and who wanted to see him fail.

He felt isolated from his peers, especially those who should understand under what pressure he was, because they must feel the same. Right?

During these days, where he rather stopped driving in circles in a very fast manner and just continued playing football, (Y/N) was his only footing. She talked him out of ending his career in motorsport. She painted a picture of his future in the prettiest colors with her words. She gave him something to look forward during these trying times.

And when it got harder before it got easier, she held his hand and reminded him that she will always stay by his side.

Now it’s Max’s turn to show her that he will always stay by her side.

He opens the door to her apartment slowly, trying to make the least noise possible.

Every room is shrouded in what must feel to her like a never ending darkness. The blinds are drawn in front of every window, hindering the tiniest bit of sunlight to filter through. Even to Max it feels like the despair that is in the air will never stop. It is all consuming.

He tiptoes towards her bedroom. There she lays, illuminated by the low light of his phone screen. Curled up tight under a bunch of blankets and between a mountain of pillows and stuffed animals.

The MV lion, the first one that has ever been produced, the original prototype before giving the go for mass production, is held tightly and close to her chest. It pulls on his heartstrings, seeing the comfort it must have brought her while he was absent.

Max kneels down at the head of the bed, gently shaking her awake. “Schatje, come on. Wake up. We got a day of new adventures just in front of us outside the door.”

It’s something they started to say in elementary school. They once read a book in class with the premise that every day is the start to a new adventure. You just have to welcome it in. Back then, when inviting something unknown in your life was considered exciting, not scary or life changing.

“The adventures can wait a day longer.” She mumbles and turns around, trying to shake his hand on her shoulder off. But Max is having none of it.

“The darkness is fooling you. Every light that has been turned off can be turned on.” He gets up and opens the blinds. Sunlight floods the room, and even at the messiest state the young man has seen his best friend, she still is the most beautiful woman on earth to him

(Y/N) lets out a noise of unpleasantness. “Please Max, I can’t deal with it today.” “No, you will. We are going to deal with it, whatever this it is, together.” He marches over to her dresser and produces a clean set of clothes out of thin air. That is what it looks like to her in this mess at least.

“You are going to shower. After that we will take a drive with no destination.” His words are final and in a tone that makes the young woman drag her limbs and body out of the bed and trudge towards the bathroom, even when the unwillingness is evident by her groaning.

Hearing the shower is Max’s cue to sit down and take a deep breath. He doesn’t know what he expected, but seeing the light of life missing in (Y/N)’s eyes isn’t on that list. It feels like a punch to his gut, witnessing her wither away without knowing from what.

It doesn’t take long and they both sit in the car. A drive without destination is exactly what it says. Just Max driving with (Y/N) sitting in the passenger seat. Usually they used these trips to catch up, to talk about everything and nothing. To voice big philosophical thoughts and dumb brain farts. They started this tradition, that usually includes some sort of fast food, when Max got his drivers license.

But sitting in complete silence for five minutes straight. That is something new.

“You know,” Max breaks it after another seven minutes. “Not talking about it won’t make the problem go away. It also doesn’t hinder it in its existence. Instead it will just get heavier and heavier until you break under the weight.” His dry tone isn’t something she anticipated.

(Y/N) looks out the window, seeing the colorful sunset for the first time in weeks. It’s easy to forget the beauty of the world when your inside thoughts feel like a graveyard. “I don’t want to worry you.”

That admission nearly has the Dutchman emergency breaking in the middle of a street through the fields. “So you play cat and mouse with your feelings because you don’t want to worry me?” (Y/N) nods.

Max lets out a laugh. “So what exactly makes you think that me witnessing you just becoming a shell of who you once were won’t worry me?”

She shrugs. (Y/N) didn’t expect him to catch that something feels wrong in her.

“Schatje. I will always worry about you, You are too important to me to not worry about you. Seeing you wither away in yourself, it made me scared going out on these tracks, sitting down in the car, and wondering if you still breathe while I’m driving another mile. Not knowing what you feel, that worries me more than the truth. Because then we can work on getting you better together. But when you don’t let me in, I can’t help and feel like by just standing and witnessing without intervening that I’m at fault for anything that happens to you. It hurts more seeing you hurting than knowing what you hurt from.”

She turns towards Max, mustering his side profile. She hasn’t thought about how her actions are perceived by her surroundings. (Y/N) just fell into that hole of darkness unexpectedly. While sitting at the bottom of that somber pit, she thought that trying to reach out for help would mean another person gets pulled into it.

If there was one person she doesn’t want sitting next to her in that dark hole, then it is Max. She harbors too much love and affection for him to want him to suffer the same fate as her. So not talking about her darkest thoughts seemed like the best way of keeping him far away from the hole.

But it just drew him in closer.

(Y/N) finally sees what he saw the whole time.

“You know, it’s hard to explain what happened. It takes time to really understand what goes on in me right now.” Max puts a reassuring hand on her leg. “We have all night to talk about it. Help me help you. Let us find a strategy to get you better. May it be medication, meditation, punching me or falling in love with someone. I need you to find a reason to stay with me, physically and mentally.”

She puts a hand over hers and looks Max in the eye for the first time since he arrived. “I already fell in love.”

He doesn’t need to hear more.

Max keeps his promise. He drives through the night, holding (Y/N) to the best of his ability while she cries, curses and explains.

By that not everything is picture perfect again. But it’s the first step. The first one to a future they both want to share with each other. For now and ever, that is enough motivation for (Y/N) to keep going, to continue turning every light on that was off.

#max verstappen image #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x fem!reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x you #reader insert

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lovewithmary · 7 months

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THE ENGINEER | MCU X FORMULA ONE CROSSOVER

summary: where viviana stark is a traitor

fc: gabbi garcia (+ any pinterest girl i find for the pictures when it's appropriate)

author's note: guys I'm already losing inspiration to do this so if you guys want to see something, please request 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

twitter

viviana stark’s instagram

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 3420985 others

vivstark: they were NOT happy about my outfit today

tagged: mickschumacher

comments

carlossainz55: 🔥🔥🔥 ↳ user1: ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? ↳ user2: user1 he was summoned by her jacket

charles_leclerc: if you stay at ferrari, i'll give you all of the ferrari stuff we have ↳ vivstark: i believe this is called bribery charles_leclerc ↳ charles_leclerc: is it working? ↳ vivstark: just a little bit 🤏

mickschumacher: traitor ↳ vivstark: i think i am legally obligated to go to the team that has red in their color cause you know, tonystark user3: the urge to ship her with all the f1 drivers is strong ↳ user4: YEAH i'm still not convinced that she and mick aren't dating but at the same time i think she could be with any of the f1 drivers even if she hasn't met a lot of them (yet)

user5: VIVIANA CAN YOU PLEASE BECOME A WAG YOUR OUTFITS WOULD BE SO GOOD ↳ user6: or... she can go without being with anyone and still look good as fuck? liked by vivianastark

user7: ma'am please do not fall in love at the f1 paddock you are better than someone who does vroom vroom in circles as a career 🙏

#f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 ig au #smau

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ressonancee · 9 months

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WESTERN WIND

Vernon is on the verge of freaking out - Vernon is chill, Vernon is calm, but everyone has a limit, and Vernon's limit is when he complains 3 consecutive weeks about his front wing and the engineering team doesn't do a thing about it.

✦ genre: F1 Alternative Universe, almost enemiers to lovers (but really just have a fight in the workplace now we are weird), smut, they do it without protection so - be safe guys love you.

✦ word count: 8.9k+ ✦ title inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen - Western wind

✦ Thea note: okay, this was a challenge!! This was written for a friend who enjoys the f1 world and isn't a carat - but we are working on it. I write for me and I write what i like to read and to me, Vernon screams lazy sex so that's that - that's really nothing more on this subject. reminder 1: i am not an english speaker so i am very sorry about any mistake but you don't need to be a bitch about it. Also, I may try to write every member but gooooood some are harder than others, and vernon was hard for me so i am sorry if the characterization is weird or when you are reading this you think shit this is not Vernon lol I reached a point where i was like yeah i'm giving up.

Vernon has always been obsessed with the idea of flying.

Not taking an airplane-flying, but actually flying. The closest he got to this was behind a steering wheel. And he got so obsessed with the feeling - first the wind against his face, then the whiplash of going too fast. He loved it so much that he just made a career out of it.

And Vernon was good at it, one of the best really, first drive in his new team and all. But it is the seventh grand prix and the car still lacking and there is so much he can do with pure strength and strategy.

He can't fight aerodynamics. He can't, and to be honest, he shouldn't do what the engineering team was supposed to. But he is one step away from getting out of the car and breaking the damn front wing with his bare hand in the middle of the box. Vernon, a lot of people don't know, but he has this kind of superpower when he gets incredibly mad his face is still calm, and nobody knows he is on the verge of freaking out.

But Vernon just handles the steering wheel to the guy next to the car and jumps off it without making a scene. On a scale of Fernando Alonso to Kimi Raikkonen Vernon leans more to Kimi's side, even though right now he may pull off a Nico Rosberg or psychological warfare like Michael Schumacher against the engineering team, he is not above it today.

He is no Kimi Raikkone though. Vernon does prefer just being in the car. He enjoys being on the circuit running laps. He is chill with being on the go, traveling around, jumping on airplanes, and Vernon developed a near to perfect packing method - he travels with just a backpack, thanks god. Vernon doesn't love press tours, sometimes they are just insufferable. He doesn't love to have a run down when his week has been shit - trashed car or broken really. But otherwise, Vernon is cool with it, he laughs a little, he goofs with other pilots, he has friends - sometimes he goes out with Lee Chan the Haas pilot. Sometimes he cracks jokes with Mingyu and Wonwoo - the Red Bull duo. So sometimes press is actually fun, and even tho Vernon is an accomplished guy in his field pole and race win on his name he also still has idols on the paddocks because he is against names like Choi Seungcheol and Hong Joshua.

So Vernon enjoys his life really, he isn't one to overthinking about what choosing this type of life made him lose. He gained so much that it would be unfair to do that, to wonder what it could be.

But when Vernon feels like his team is not even hearing his complaint about how the aerodynamics of the car is fucked up Vernon wants to just crash the car and scream in the box. What the fuck? Fix the gooddamn wing for fuck's sake.

But Vernon doesn't scream in the middle of the box, it wouldn't be good for the press, and Vernon is calm he is chill, but he isn't dumb. He does this when the engineering team, himself, and Choi Minho, his team principal, are in a more private area.

"What the hell? I've been complaining about the front wing since the Australia GP."

"We have been working on the wing." The engineering girl slash prodigy answers.

"And why the fuck is not working properly? This car will fly out of the track if a single drop of rain falls." Vernon continues because he is the one putting his life on the line really. Why no one is giving a fuck about what he has been saying.

"We are trying, you know about regulations we cant-" You try to say as if everybody doesn't remember that FIA is actually the worst ever and it is your job to care about regulations too.

"Oh my fucking God. I gonna crash this car in the first fucking lap I am not even kidding." Vernon says pacing around the table, he hates the whole can't do won't do FIA-related frustration.

"Ok, Vernon you know we can't really do anything about it right now," Minho says arms crossed. "So stop bitching about it, and no you will not crash my car in the first lap you are not stupid." And now Vernon knows he can't really crash his car but he feels the urge to do it nonetheless, Minho can scrap his bank account he doesn't care, he can go fucking penny less but he will have his front wing fixed up.

"You," Minho says pointing at you and you are actually relieved, you can take the screams of the team principal - even tho Minho is not near screaming, but taking shit from the pilot? Not gonna happen "For fuck sake take his complaint and actually do something about it for the next GP, you have like 5 people that could have been working for NASA in the team if he complains again about this mothefucker wing again I gonna have a stroke," he says leaving the room.

"Why do you guys only act when I bring Choi Minho to the room?" Vernon asks feeling dumb and to be honest disrespected. He knows he is young, he knows he is new, but he was brought to the team for a reason.

"Not that it matters," You say already picking the things around the table, probably from a previous meeting. "But he is my boss, not you Vernon."

"I am the one inside the car," Vernon says trying to attain some kind of respect or authority.

"Ok, that's not relevant to me whatsoever. I work designing a car that if we put a dog behind the wheel is gonna be fast so-" You say because you are tired this front wing nightmare has been going on for more than the australia grand prix actually, it's always the same problem, again and again, your team fixes it but it always comes back to life like a zombie or something.

"Did you just say that I am not relevant? Are you kidding me?" Vernon actually scoffs because of course he knew when he arrived in Mercedes that the team is bigger than him, he knew what all the critics said, but being treated that poorly by a co-worker? Fucked up man.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Yeah yeah yeah like Im just a dumb kid on the wheel, that's what you meant. I really thought we could build a nice relationship and all-" Vernon cuts you already opening up his overall because it is hot as fuck, like one step away from dying hot. "I guess the civil war thing going on wasn't in my plans but if you guys on the engineering want that I have no problem whatsoever in being a fucking dick."

Vernon says almost dashing to his trailer, fucking stupid overalls dangling around his waist because if one of the journalists asks him something about his wing or his time or how Kim Mingyu got the pole, Choi Minho is not the only one who will have a stroke. Health care plans and his life insurance will skyrocket.

After Vernon takes a shower, he realizes how dumb and idiotic he is. This happens a lot. Vernon doesn't really know how to deal with his rage, so when the anger dissipates, he just ends up regretting everything.

Regretting is not even close to the proper word. When Vernon analyzes the chances of him fucking up his entire year because you simply do not rage war on your engineering team - that was like a rule, not a rule scratch that, it was a dogma. A rule you can break, if you try that shit on a dogma, you will root in hell. The hell being Vernon's worst nightmare - having the team ask him to pull aside to the other driver because he can't keep up, the reason? His shitty ass front wing.

But when the actual race comes and Vernon starts the race in third and finishes up in 5th place, he doesn't know who will drop dead first, him or Choi Minho.

"Do we need a meeting between grand prix to fix this hellhole you guys have been calling a car?" His boss asks and Vernon can see you just rolling your eyes. Dude, that's crazy. Did you just roll your eyes to Choi Minho? That was insane.

And Vernon coped the only way he knew - developing a wealth obsession fueled by hatred, all because you didn't give him his wing and a roll of your eyes at Choi Minho.

Before that, Vernon really didn't have a problem with you. Since he moved to Mercedes everything was great! Great team! New and more powerful car! Great teammate - Lee Jihoon, who actually took Vernon under his wing. The pre-season was great, and he didn't have problems with you whenever you two had to talk about the development stage of the car.

Actually, Vernon finds you interesting really, that's not a lot of women in F1, and the majority of the women actually deal with public relations or team management like Kwon Boa. He always saw you around, really, always in jeans, tennis, and a Mercedes shirt. Sometimes with glasses, sometimes with a cap on. Always chatting with someone, sometimes writing things down on a notebook, sometimes explaining something.

He didn't actually have any problems with you. He didn't have a reason, but now? Now Vernon can't really back off, can he? God, he was not a fighter and neither a hater, but he wasn't a coward either.

So when his one-week break is cut short and people send him to Northamptonshire Vernon is angry because really: 1st he could use a few days off, 2nd between the Emilia-Romagna and the Monaco GP he had booked a crazy Airbnb in Cannes.

Now he was stuck in this hell hole of a place, in a way too cold meeting room, with like the whole engineering team and his boss. Not ideal. So Vernon's mind just wonders really, he thinks about how he needs to catch up on his favorite TV show, maybe he can check on his family later, or call his friend Boo Seungkwan - maybe he would call Seungkwan to Monaco is bouge enough for Seungkwan.

“And that's why we try to fix the front wing, but it seems like the aerodynamic problem is always back. Lee Seokmin actually did design another front wing at the start of the pre-season but you guys said that this one had a better grip” You finish the whole ppt-presentation, sometimes you hated your job so much, and by sometimes you meant the whole ppt presentation of a problem that we can`t actually fix because of regulations and because you guys main driver didn't do proper feedback in the first place. And now you have a problem in your hands, that to begin with, it wasn't even yours.

“So the best thing we can do is?” Choi Minho asks and you laugh because right now you are not the one treating Vernon like a damn child on the wheel, it is Choi Minho, but Vernon is too engrossed in his own mind to notice or he feigns ignorance because it is Choi Minho who is talking, not you the mere translator girl for the engineering team.

“We can try always the wet tire even if it's just light, and we can always use the soft tire at the beginning of the race it is the less durable but if he is in a good position to start with we can always call him back-”

“So, we did this three-hour meeting” Vernon actually checked his watch. It was a tree hour meeting for god`s sake. “for the resolution being soft tire and pray for a good pit stop? Are we crazy?”

“If you heard about FIA rules we cannot-” You try to speak but really, you don't even know why you start when you know you gonna be ignored by the man in the room and it’s F1 there is always a man in the room, always.

“Ok ok,” Vernon interrupts. “Just so you know that’s crazy, everything about this wing situation is crazy, we are just handling the championship, we are not even close to being - I don't know? 5th fucking place.”

“We need to make the legal team re-analyze the rules,” Minho says contemplative and not really angry, and to be honest you wouldn't be either because it is true, but Vernon could be less bitch about it because it is not your fault either

“Just that? Ok,” Vernon says and he gets up because when Minho talks about the legal team it`s gonna take 4 to 6 days to actually find a loophole in the damn manual, but hey ok, it's fine, Vernon it’s chill, but not chill enough because the next moment his mouth is moving. “Maybe you could ask for the engineering team to work on that too I don't know just a thought”

And you laugh, loud and clear. And Vernon is truly spooked. What the heck? Are you going crazy? Has the excruciating work and the insane hours with the weekly jetlag made you crazy?

“Yeah Minho,” you say, picking up the papers. Why do you always pick up? Are they top-secret papers? Vernon never thought about corporate espionage, but it may be a thing. “Maybe you can ask your drivers for proper feedback when I ask them about grip and wings and start making them say whole sentences, not it's bad and a sad emoji. If we did send a form about this shit we wouldn't have this problem,” You actually leave them room, but Minho and Vernon continue listening to your voice down the hall. “Oh Vernon, how it’s going with the car. Make them say 4 whole sentences and not it's chill. Maybe that would help” and then you scream. “Just a thought."

“I mean” Choi Minho starts getting up too. “Nothing against a rivalry in the workplace, dang in my times, it was worse. But if I get an actual complaint - Humans Resources or Legal Team involved - I am so firing both of you, and I am not even caring about labor law or whatever.”

And Vernon thinks it's weird how he was the first one to get up and the last one out of the meeting room.

So when Vernon actually arrives in Monaco - Boo Seungkwan, his best friend since birth, on his side, the civil war in his team is still going on at full speed. The tire strategy is still in place. Choi Minho still looks at him every five minutes like a babysitter. You still give a side eye every time you both share a room, Vernon is even more aware that you roll your eyes at everyone. Are you just discontent with everything?

But he doesn't think so when he sees you and Jeonghan, the team strategy, and Jun, one of the mechanics, laughing while eating lunch. Vernon is puzzled really why the fuck is he, Choi Minho, and the whole team getting side eyes and Jeonghan and Jun receiving beautiful smiles and even laughs? That's weird, more than weird, that's unfair really.

"What's going on in your head?" Boo Seungkwan asks, actually stealing a bite of Vernon chicken's breast.

"Just, you know the whole war in the team. That's the girl that is actually making my life hell." Vernon says voice low like he is telling Seungkwan a secret, trying to be discreet.

"That one?" Seungkwan asks loud and not caring about the top secret war going on, apparently. "Oh, Vernon, she is pretty."

"And?" Vernon thinks puzzled because really he never stopped to think about it. "Ok, ok, stop looking," Vernon says when he sees Jeonghan looking back at his table, grabbing Seungkwan and almost getting up and turning Seungkwan`s head himself. God.

"You didn't tell me she was pretty." Seungkwan acts like it was the most important thing ever. Missing the point, really, because the most important thing ever in this whole ordeal was Vernon's career and the probability of it ending abruptly.

"Yeah, because it is not important, I mean…" Vernon trails off because again, he never stopped really, but thinking about you are pretty. Or at least not recently. Vernon thinks back when you two met in the pre-season and he may have blushed once or twice talking to you in the first days, but he wouldn't call it a crush.

"Hey Vernon," Jeonghan says, stopping at his side. "We will go over the strategy at 3 pm for the first free practice, so if you need anything, just give us a heads up before."

"Oh, sure man, actually I was thinking about the ty-" Vernon starts.

"Bye guys, if I hear one more driver talking about how they don’t want to start with a soft tire today, I'm gonna jump the nearest cliff." You say, lacing arms with Jun and just dragging him.

"Oh, she is feisty today," Jeonghan laughs. "Okay, anyway, you can bring everything to the team, right? I need to actually get some information with her so-"

"Sure, sure man, no big."

“Yeah," Boo Seungkwan just laughs, and laughs, he actually almost falls backward type of laughing “When was the last time you got laid?"

"Hm?" Out of nowhere? What the heck was going on in his friend’s mind? But Vernon actually needs time to think about it, fuck, when was the last time? Vernon didn’t even remember with whom. "I don't know a few weeks?"

"Months right?" Seungkwan answered in a heartbeat, chewing on a long French fries.

"Maybe dude, you know it is hard when I am always on the go." And it was hard, Vernon wasn’t lying. He didn’t enjoy the whole no-string attached really, and after he got a little famous - in a very niche type of famous he knew that, he was no rockstar type of guy, but still, he enjoyed it even less.

"Yeah didn't peg you for doing in the workplace kind of guy, always talking about how it is precious and nothing can disturb the paddock’s energy,” Seungkwan says making Vernon almost choke on his food.

“First, that is the rule that applies when you want to bring your boyfriend Kwon Soonyoung because last time he almost broke my trophy,” Vernon can actually feel the chill going through his body just remembering the scene that his traumatized brain conjures up, it was his first grand prix win and Seungkwan boyfriend almost knocked it down. “second we are not doing anything. We are actually enemies”

“Oh,” Seungkwan stops, truly stops, dropping his fork and knife, and he stares at Vernon, but Vernon knows it is not a stare, Seungkwan is analyzing Vernon like he always did. “Well, that's even worse, because when it happens - see not if, I said when it's going to be a nuclear bomb, thanks good I am not going to Spain with you and me and my lovely boyfriend will be having a few days off in Monaco so…”

The problem was that Seungkwan was always annoyingly right. Seungkwan was right when he said Vernon's last relationship wouldn't last more than 3 months. Seungkwan was also right about Vernon's first love and second. Seungkwan had this superpower really, Seungkwan was always there to see the picture better before Vernon did.

But Vernon always just shrugged and went to his next task, now free practice. And Vernon did slightly better than he thought - 4th place. So he wasn't actually totally dejected after the press asked him about the probability of rain. Everything was fine until Vernon saw the little orange cat hiding in the corner of the Mercedes trailer.

Vernon squatted and tried to call the little kitten really, it was tiny and made Vernon's heart break a little because when the cat was approaching him Vernon saw how he was limping, front paw looking hurt. Also, the little dude looked muddy. He may hate Vernon for it, but he needed a good wash.

"Hey," You say looking at Vernon who just started stroking the orange cat fur. "I was just-" You point at the water container.

"Ah yeah," Vernon says, giving you a nod. "I was thinking of finding something so this little guy can eat but-"

"We don't know anything around, same." You say squatting on Vernon's side and putting the container on the ground, little dude giving you both a meow.

"Could we-" Vernon starts but you just cut him.

"Make a trainee do the hard work? Make them go to the nearest supermarket, " you say, laughing a little, like you laugh with others. And Vernon thinks that maybe your brain is too fast, two-step forwards already, ahead of everyone, always.

"Yeah, I was thinking about asking someone or even the Grand Prix organizers to even get a vet around. I think something is wrong with his paw." Vernon points at the cat, and he stops for a minute thinking about how he is so used to being in the paddock but not really knowing his way around it. He strokes the cat again, almost feeling the urge to pick him up and go around asking if anyone knows a vet.

"You shouldn't be touching him." You say and Vernon feels a little offended. Did you enjoy telling him what to do? Vernon could take it, he didn't like it, but when it was about the race he could take it, but about a cat? Really? "Like, for health reasons."

"Yeah, I was thinking about taking him to the trailer, but if he has fleas, that would be a nightmare," Vernon says hand still scratching the little cat like the rebel he was.

"Can you-" You trail off, looking around, and Vernon can almost see your brain working inside your skull.

"What?"

"Look, we have like two options.” You say getting up and fixing your pants. And Vernon thinks that Seungkwan was actually right shit, you are actually and objectively pretty. “You can be an asshole and make someone do the job just because you are throwing a i am a star fit"

"Or?"

"You could totally do your I am a heartthrob bit on the communication team newbie, she kinda has a crush on you, so she would totally find Seb a vet place. Just don't let Minghao know.” Vernon just feels like a lot of what you just said goes over his head because it really doesn’t make sense to him, Heartthrob what? Crush who? Seb?

"Are we calling him Seb?"

"I mean he just gives me Sebastian Vettel energy all around you know, he is kind of shy and orange," you say trying not to sound dumb, feeling a little anxious - because Vernon always made you feel this way, an uneasy feeling paired with his low voice.

"Yeah, I can see that” and Vernon smiles, dude the cat really looks like Sebastian. God - in that exact moment Vernon knows that his life is fucked up, he is picking a stray cat when the next 3 weeks he will be jumping from airplane to airplane. But look at him, Vernon can't leave Seb in a freaking paddock, in the end of the week everything will be gone.

"So? Which one? I'm pretty sure we can try just telling Minho you went rogue as the third option but…"

"The heartthrob one just-" Vernon can feel his forehead itch and the beginning of a headache. He can't do a heartthrob bit. What is he talking about? "Just show me the way."

"I need your keys," you say to Vernon, hand open in his direction "First we need a box and a towel. We can't let little Seb on the loose."

"He is a little difficult, though. Pretty sure he won't stay in the box," Vernon tells you already giving you his key.

"I think I can steal a few eggs for him on the way. If they are boiled, it won't be a problem. He seems hungry enough."

And Vernon actually plays with Seb until you arrive, a box filled with Vernon's towel - probably the one he used this morning, and a plastic plate full of eggs. And then you are already dragging Vernon around to the second task - the heartthrob bit. And Vernon thinks about how quick on your feet you are - figuratively, and literally, you walk really fast. Later, you tell him that is a job thing, not a you thing. Apparently to be an F1 engineer you need to think fast, walk quickly, and solve everyone's problems.

Vernon did the heartthrob bit - it actually ended up with the newbie taking Seb to the vet, you gave her a to-do list (1 - check his paw, 2 - check for fleas, 3 - don't forget the shots!!!) and Vernon's credit card. But Vernon still with a weird taste in his mouth. How did you know the newbie had a crush on him? That's totally weird.

But hey the trainee actually found a vet, and she brings Seb back with shots and a bath. And now Vernon is staring at his cat, thinking about how if he needs to call the hotel to check about the animal policy, maybe he could do the heartthrob bit to the hotel manager. Or he could leave Seb unattended, he could eat something, chew his race boot, or - then Vernon hears a knock, which is weird of course because Vernon doesn't actually receive visits in the motor home, people know that Vernon is sensitive about that - no fans, no press, no knocking when he is in the motorhome.

"Hi," you say as soon as Vernon opens his door, "just came to see the little guy."

"Oh, yeah sure," of course it was you, the only person who doesn't actually care about Vernon’s word and maybe well-being, but Vernon kind of understands, Seb is cute, "he looks tired tho."

"It's okay, I just came to give him some love." You say one digit going between Seb’s ear, squatting on the floor, letting Seb chill in his place, "Are you going to the hotel?"

"I don't know,” Vernon scratches his kneck because it is true, he doesn’t actually have any idea what he is about to do, maybe he can take his race boots and everything essential so Seb doesn't chew on it, "I need to go but I can’t leave him alone but also I can’t sleep on the couch, it will fuck up my neck and also can’t just not sleep."

"You can go, I can sleep here on the bed, not a problem." You say sitting on the floor, Seb little groggy but wake, you pick him up and put him on your lap, and he just purr. What the hell? His cat is purring? For another person? What?

"I can’t let you do that,” he can’t because his cat is already in love and because he also knows that his motorhome bed is just uncomfortable.

"Don’t worry, we are just-" you say finally looking at Vernon’s eyes, "co-parenting" You say and Vernon feels like a bomb just dropped, and the whole humanity just vanished, he can hear a pin drop.

"Co-pareting? A cat?" Vernon says like his brain is not really functioning.

"Yeah Vernon,” You start, and Vernon can see a small smile across your face, “people have different family arrangements. You, me, and Seb, divorced people with a kid, it's okay."

"Divorced?" Vernon actually lets out a laugh, a scoff really. Why are you trying to mess with him ? This is not even close to normal.

"Yeah we are not on great terms but we sacrifice for him."

Vernon leaves - not because you said he could, not because you found a solution, but because it was the right thing to do for his performance really. Vernon leaves because his neck is a prized possession, and because he needs to sleep , he needs his best reaction time. And Vernon is an athlete. People may say that driving a car is not a sport, but people don’t know how much the g-force makes his neck almost break. But when Vernon lays in bed with his special pillow, Vernon can’t actually sleep. His mind goes back to his motorhome, to his just-for-stretching bed, and never actually sleeps. His mind, Vernon finds out, is going back to you sleeping in that awful bad, to the way you treat the little cat like it can break, and the way that every time your hand goes against the cat's fur Venon can actually feel the love.

Vernon is so fucked.

He starts to think that Seungkwan is actually right.

And Vernon can't actually sleep because you are tormenting his mind and Seungkwan's voice telling him 'I told you so' echoes in his mind.

Even tho not getting the eight-hour sleep Vernon gets what his system needs to be quick on his reactions - Wonwoo and Seungcheol actually crash in front of him, debris over his head and Vernon has control enough to just not crash in the crash in the narrows streets of Monaco. Nightmare, really. Vernon finishes in third because of it, and even tho he is in the podium, he can't actually feel happy about it.

Maybe that's really why Vernon can't have his car with a fucked up wing because it can mean life and death. Later that day he makes sure to go check with both drivers - halo is ugly as fuck but saves lives.

Vernon is thankful that he doesn't have time to actually think about life and death because you are shoving him into a funny bag and telling him to put Seb inside and telling him that you actually are about to sit next to him. So Vernon ends up with a cat bag on his lap, Seb strangely chills about everything, your hand going inside the bag just to stroke his fur.

He ends up sleeping the flight, which is only about 1h40 minutes, but Vernon feels like he needed that nap.

The perception of time in the world of F1 is really truly bizarre. Vernon is always running, always thinking about how he can go faster, even when he is doing the press talk. Minghao walks faster, and explains everything for Vernon in 3 sentences, if it is a sponsor or if it is a journalist, if he needs to actually talk about the car, or if it is a 'content' bit.

But when Vernon is going around the paddock and see you leaning against Jeonghan smile bright and full Vernon actually stops on his track, it is late, and everything is figured out in the paddock why the hell are you and Jeonghan laughing about?

"Come on, Vern," Minghao calls him, making his neck turn. "Come on, we have three more, and if I don't arrive in time for my dinner with Mika, she is going to kill me."

So Vernon lets Minghao drag him across the paddock. But his mind is still on the scene, you leaning and smiling against Jeonghan, and Vernon doesn't want to, but he feels jealous. He wants to be Jeonghan so fucking bad.

Vernon really doesn't have much time to think about it, he needs to sleep, watch his water intake, and think about his neck - his neck is his most important body part as a f1 driver, and he did think his neck was feeling a little funny. But every time Vernon sits and has time to himself, his brain conjures the image of you and Jeonghan in his eyelid.

Vernon doesn't think it was because of his neck or because his sleep was extremely shitty but the next day, his car crashes against a brick wall. Not great. Not ideal. Not fun either. So Vernon does what he needs to do. Even if he feels fine and got out of the car on his own, he needs his trip to the hospital. Turns out a few hours later, the medical team is sure that Vernon is not dying, but he may have a concussion.

When Vernon is back in his motor home to pick Seb back to the hotel (this time he actually made sure it was okay with the hotel's policy) he founds you lying on his useless motor home bed.

"Hey," you say getting up the bed "are you okay?"

"Yeah yeah," Vernon drops his bag on the floor and sits down by your side. "Just a concussion."

"Okay," you say, looking at Vernon, like actually looking at him searching for something. "I was scared it wasn't a pretty scene, Vernon."

"I know, but I'm okay," but Vernon is so so tired, he is okay and he feels okay but he feels the urge to just lie in this horrible bed and just stay in it, he doesn’t even care about his neck really - he can call for physiotherapy or something.

"Still, the whole team was worried, you don’t need to act like it wasn’t scary,” you say and Vernon just feels so heavy, like his whole body is made of bricks, even tho he is ok with it, he is used to it really, but the crash still takes a tool on his body "and you should have gone directly to the hotel"

"I was just picking Seb up," Vernon just lies on that horrible bed and it doesn’t really seem that bad, or he is just so tired that even lying on the floor seems like a good option now. His mind is tired too - Vernon can’t even think.

"You didn't need to do that. You could've ringed me up, you know, co-parenting,” you say, voice small, and Vernon's hazed mind almost doesn’t catch it.

"Yeah," Vernon scoffs. Really, he didn’t even think about texting you, "I don't think I have your number"

"Oh shit," You say picking up Vernon's phone and putting it in front of his face to unlock his phone, "ok gonna save my number you need to send me Seb pics I don't think you should bring him up, we have a week off you are probably going back to England right? You should hire someone to go see him daily or-"

Vernon just feels the urge to actually kiss you. You are just there, cat on your lap, thinking about how Vernon shouldn't bring Seb around anymore, you are so so worried about his health and if he is getting stressed, and you go on about how Vernon just needs to let him rest in his place in England even tho it would be super hard for you because you are getting used to distress, every work day you pop up in Vernon motor home to say hi to the cat - and to Vernon, it all feels like a freaking lullaby, he actually nestles himself in the bed, searching for the better position to just sleeps.

"See," you say to Vernon when you see how dozed off he is "you never pay attention."

"I am paying attention," Vernon answers, eyes still shut but not actually sleeping.

"You are not. You are zoomed out," You say, lying on his side, legs dangling out of the bed. "What were you thinking?"

"Nothing really," Vernon says because he is not really thinking about anything concrete really, his brain is all over the place.

"Vern," you actually whine, "I thought we were becoming friends parenting the same kid"

"We are becoming friends" Vernon laughs because that is weird right? “I have your phone now we are definitely friends”

"See? So tell me, what's on your mind lately?" You try again, but Vernon just hums."You seem actually stressed lately. Is Minho bothering you? I know the results are not great, but i promise we are trying"

"I know, I know, don't worry about that." And Vernon feels actually bad because it is the first time he can feel that you are a little guilty, no scratch that, tired? Vernon can’t really catch the feeling, but he knows that you care.

“I am not worried about that, I care about the results but you crashed today, the med team said you may have a concussion, and I don’t know if you are just zooming out in an ok way or zooming out in a concussion-induced way.”

“It’s not the concussion the hospital let me go, it is just, I’m just tired” Vernon feels your hand on his hair, petting him, almost like you do with Seb, and Vernon just let himself sleep feeling the affection in the way your fingers travel in his skull.

The thing is, even when Vernon is in his house in England he doesn't really feel at home, because it is a company provided apartment, and to be fair Vernon didn't put a lot of effort in it. So in his week off Vernon tries to focus on his physical training, on his neck, on his diet, on sleeping, but every time his phone vibrates Vernon just feels giddy and excited because 80% of the time it is just you reacting to Seb's pics Vernon sent.

Vernon tries not to think about how fast you answer his messages or how sometimes you send audio snips, and Vernon doesn't feel angry - he always hated audio message god. Vernon also hated calls but one night he actually video calls you and you are already in bed but you said you wanted to say goodnight to Seb but you and Vernon spends more than an hour chatting about nothing and everything.

When the time comes, Vernon ponders; leaving Seb behind or actually flying with the cat. So he just calls Boo Seungkwan to babysit Sebastian - the hours of flight and the jetlag would just make him stressed, even tho Vernon thinks he is the worst person ever adopting a cat to just let him stay in an empty apartment even tho Seungkwan will make sure he is eating, and Vernon actually begged 3 times to Seungkwan check Seb's litter box.

To everyone's surprise, Vernon actually gets a pole position. To be honest, even to Vernon and his team it was a surprise, too. But it was a good one. You congratulated him, and that night, you and Vernon called Seungkwan and spent like 45 minutes talking to a cat and cooing together - like parents on a holiday.

Vernon thinks it's kinda weird really - how you two fell into this dynamic of sharing a pet, and in a way, you two turned into friends too. So when Vernon is ready to get out to his car you are the last one to greet him, and Vernon is not really superstitious but he thinks he will make sure that this turns into a new team ritual.

When Vernon crosses the finish line, he feels it - the feeling that Vernon always chased in a way. When he hears the screams and laughs on his radio, he feels he can actually let go and just enjoy. He did. He won a grand prix again.

And when Vernon is showered with champagne, hears his national anthem, and jumps to the crowd he thinks about you. He tries to find you really but Minghao just directs him to the press area.

“Hey,” you say, popping your head in the door crack after knocking on his door. “Heard you were looking for me.”

“Yeah yeah.” And Vernon feels sticky. His whole body is covered in champagne. He is looking like a mess, but god, he is so so happy. “Didn’t see you in the celebration.”

“I was around. Saw everything, don't worry" You move and close the door acting like you guys didn't accomplish the best thing in the whole world because that's how Vernon feels like he is on top of the world.

“No no-” Vernon's smile is so big, and he touches your arms, and he actually stops, and he looks at you. “We did! We actually did it!”

“You did it" you say almost shoving him, but Vernon's hands don't leave your arms - hot and sticky against your skin, "don't need to be humble it was a great race on your side-”

“No no no listen, we both did it. We did it together. We are sharing this," Vernon says - smile still big across his face, he is so sweaty why do you think that seeing Vernon happy is the best thing ever? “Come on, say it”

“We did it” You say smiling, not even because you are happy with his win - you are, you are happy for the team, and you are happy for Vernon, but Vernon is so happy and in a way is so infectious you just can not smile like him.

“We sure did,” and Vernon hugs you, head dropping on your shoulder, “god-”

“What?"

“You smell nice," Vernon says voice muffled.

“Thank you, you smell like really nice champagne," you say with a laugh, god Vernon is so happy, and there is only one thing that would make him happier -

"And-” He tries to master his courage to say, “and I wish I could kiss you.”

When Vernon kisses you, he almost feels the breeze, almost feeling the physical sensations that involve flying, because, in his head, he is already 10 thousand feet high. He feels so out of it that Vernon just let you take what you want for him. God, you want so much.

Vernon can feel it. He feels in the way your fingers hold his jaw. He feels in the way your mouth goes together, like two pieces made to fit each other. He feels in the way that you react when his hands hold your hips so tightly, whimpering in his mouth.

Vernon is not one to complain about speed, but when his whole world is spinning and everything is going so fucking fast he wishes he could stop the time, make it go backward, make it go slower.

His whole life, he fought against the clock. If he was two seconds faster if he didn't waste milliseconds in the second curve. Vernon was always running, but now, fuck Vernon wishes he could go slow.

So Vernon chooses to take his time, not hurry. He kisses you slowly. The way that he trails his lips against your jaw is slow, and the way that his hands travel to your ribcage is slow.

"Vernon," you try to call his attention, to make him hurry, to make him speed up, but the only thing that Vernon gives you is a non-committal noise.

And Vernon thinks you are in a fucking trailer, with a not-great bed, and he has one better - bigger and with his trusted neck pillow but everything just shatters when someone knocks on his door.

And when Vernon opens the door and sees Minghao he thinks two things: Minghao is his worst enemy really, Minghao must hate him. The second one? Vernon asks himself how many wins he needs in his career to do a contract clause saying he is never doing press again, if someone asks him to do an interview or youtube content he is allowed to change teams before the end of his contract.

Vernon goes back to everything needs to move fast behavior. You two jump on a plane, and again, Vernon has his week off - while you need to go to Austria to check everything related to the engineering team. So when Vernon arrives and Seb purrs against his leg, he films it and sends it to you. When Vernon is chilling on his bed and Seb acts like Vernon's body is his personal pillow, he films it and sends it to you. When you say you are crying because you miss the cat, Vernon calls you and says you can knock on his door anytime.

When Vernon arrives in the paddock the first thing he does is ask Jun where you were - meeting room, you had a meeting with Jeonghan and Minho, but when Vernon knocks on the door you are alone.

"You really did it." It's the first thing you say to Vernon.

"Yeah" He shrugs. "it was a promise."

"It looks good on you," you say, sitting in front of him at the table, hand touching Vernon’s hair, feeling the urge to ruffle it.

"So, like, my last meal was airplane food, so I was thinking about taking you to dinner," Vernon says, and you just think how it is unfair that even tho he is not conscious of it, he is doing the heartthrob thing, the lazy eyes, the small smile, the unkept hair - now blonde.

"Hm-" you try your best to not just throw your papers and forget you have an actual job just because Vernon smiled at you, "I don't know if I am free, actually Minho was talking about going over the strategy with you so-"

"Yeah? Ok, I can call him and say the airplane gave me a headache so," Vernon picks his phone up and starts typing something, "I don't know Austrian food that well but we can always go to an Italian."

"Italian, I prefer Italian," you say, chin resting on your hand and just admiring Vernon. You are pretty sure if you were a cartoon, they would draw you with heart eyes.

"Nice."

You let Vernon wine and dine you. The restaurant was nice, and it was even nicer that you and Vernon sat side by side in low light, and you can just rest your head on his shoulder because you were truly tired and because every time you did that you could actually sniff Vernon a bit, and he smells so so good.

You guys just chat about everything, and at some point, Vernon actually unlocks his phone and just lets you browse his gallery (90% of it is Seb's pics or videos, and the other 10% were the pics you sent him about your day - a coffee, a building, anything silly that made you smile), and looking at it made your heart melt.

In a silent agreement, you just hop in Vernon's Uber and end up on his hotel bed, with Vernon on top of you.

Vernon kisses you slowly like he has all the time in the world - and you are weak enough for him, so you don't complain, you don't hurry him. To be honest you don't want him to hurry either, you are enjoying the way Vernon is nested between your legs, the way you can feel his weight on your body, and the way that his hands feel against your neck.

The way Vernon touches you makes you feel treasured, makes your heart full, and makes you want to make him feel the same way, and you try your best.

You try when your hands travel to his biceps, squeezing it the way his hands tighten against your hips. You try when your hand goes through his hair when he kisses your neck. You try when Vernon's hands travel under your shirt and you kiss his cheeks because it's the only place you reach.

Vernon doesn't think, and he doesn't try. He just does, and he accepts what you give him.

When Vernon outright grinds on you and you whimper, Vernon accepts it. When your hands claw at his shirt, he accepts, and when he gets off, you take his shirt off and see you doing the same. Vernon thinks that maybe you gonna give him more than he can take.

You don't rush him, you let Vernon watch you, but you feel rushed, so you get up as well, mouth. chasing Vernon's while you take off your bra.

The way Vernon holds you makes your mind spin. The way his firm body feels against yours, and how his hands feel against your back. And even though you try, Vernon still kisses you slowly.

Vernon holds you when he makes you lie on the bed, "baby lemme just-" he says, giving your hips a small kiss, and opening the button of your pants, when he takes your pants off you can feel his digits traveling against your leg and you are sure he can feel the goosebumps on your skin.

Vernon's fingers close against your ankle, and Vernon brings it against his mouth, "Vern " you try to call him, and you feel dumb enough that you just beg. And Vernon kisses you again, one hand on your chest and the other grabbing your hips.

And you think you can take slow when Vernon is on top of you, legs tangled, his lips now on your neck. Every time your hips move together Vernon hums against your skin and you wish he was naked already. But when Vernon's lips find your chest you can't really complain because you feel so lost, he takes one of your nipples in your mouth, and he gives attention to the other one too, taking your nipple between two fingers and toying with it

When Vernon releases your breast with a pop you remember to call him, "Vern please"

"What?" He says hands toying with your panty line, digits hot against your hips.

"Your pants," you say, feeling your mouth dry, body buzzing.

"Oh right," Vernon says and you already feel remorseful when Vernon detaches his body from yours.

You try to reach Vernon with your hands, palms against his skin, on his chest, on his abs, on his thighs. Everywhere - trying to placate the lack of the feeling of his body against yours.

When Vernon finishes getting his pants off he holds your head, hand against your nape and jaw and he kisses you, and you feel a little better thinking he suffered like you did in those milliseconds that your bodies have been apart from each other.

And Vernon did, and when he stops to look at you, to really look, tracing his thumb against your mouth and you open just enough for your tongue to lap at his digit Vernon thinks he is going crazy.

God, you are just so pretty on his bed, hair messy, trails of his kiss against your skin. Vernon knows he is so fucking lucky, and if he could he would stop the time, he would treasure every second - he would go so fucking slow he would make the clock go backward. You, however, don't really care, you just touch Vernon, hand under his underwear giving his dick a few pumps while Vernon's hands leave an imprint on your ribcages.

Vernon helps you a little, one hand on your hips and another one lowering his underwear, his dick finally free. When Vernon looks down, he can see how red his skin is - a blush coloring his chest, he can also see how your thumb just goes smoothly against his cockhead and Vernon thinks he might go insane.

"Do you need to-" Vernon asks while trying to return the feeling, hand going to your clothed pussy, pressing against it and making you whimper.

"No, no, I am ok," You say, almost in a way to make Vernon hurry up, "You can just fuck me."

"Yeah yeah ok," Vernon says, and you can feel the way his dicks enters you while Vernon's tongue lick his lips.

Vernon fucks you slowly, body pressed against yours, one of his hands holding your head - almost pressing you against his, his lips never leaving your cheek. And it is almost excruciating - the way Vernon fucks you, so slowly and yet so fucking good.

You try to tell him in the way your hands hold his neck, the way you feel his shoulder blades under your hands, the way you want to touch the expanses of his back.

It's good, and you could live like that - in Vernon's warm embrace. But you are feeling desperate enough so you just beg, "Vern, faster", and not a second late Vernon is fucking you harder. He picks himself up, knees on the bed, holding your legs on the side of his waist. And god he hits you so deep, you just need a little more.

"Fuck you are so hot," Vernon says almost there when he sees your hand toying with your clit.

"I am so close," You say to him and you can feel how his hands tighten against your thighs, how he picks up his pace, how he fucks you harder.

And then it washes over you, and it hits Vernon - because of the way he continues to fuck you after it, but then you can feel his body against yours, his mouth chasing yours, and you just laugh between kisses because yeah, Vernon is a lazy kisser, that just how he is, but goddamn you love it.

In that weekend Vernon makes a ritual of kissing you, he kisses you every time he can really, but he makes a point of stealing a kiss before the free practice - in his motorhome. He does it again before the race, he ends up in second place. He kisses you again when you jump at him saying that he is the best - and he wants to argue because he just ended in second place, but it's you so he just takes it.

When Vernon is showered, clean, and not sticky from champagne he sees you sleeping in his horrible motorhome bed, and he just can't let you - you guys have a flight to catch.

"Hey, come on let's go home, Seb is missing you," Vernon says trying to wake you up.

#t: chwe hansol #Vernon fanfic #Vernon Smut #Seventeen Fanfic #Seventeen Smut #Vernon Fic #Seventeen Fic #t: writting #t: seventeen #svt smut #choi hansol fic

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