#i forget what their ship name is called

[k16is]

silly au idea where damara tells everyone theyre just friends while they keep doing even more excruciatingly intimate and gross pda stuff and no one can tell if she’s joking or just deeply in denial. meanwhile porrim is just like entirely uncaring and too amused to comment on the situation. i think it’s funny

[fishnoodles]

can anyone fucking hear me

[fumifooms]

thanks for infecting me with marchil its so so fun to just see them pair themselves up in the background now

especially love how much she picks him up like a cat (and when he has the opportunity to do it to her too he just lugs her around like a sack of oats) gosh i love them they're so funny

YAAAAAA 🎉🎉 I’m so glad to hear it welcome to the sillies corner 🤝

THEY’RE SOOO SO FUNNY

They’re worsties that cannot get enough of each other

[weaselishmcdiesel]

gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for GamTav

they almost got me suspended at my christian k-12 school bc i posted them on my musical.ly but thats besides the point

thats so real asdhfj im not very good at drawin gamzee ehe..

[justanotherignot]

If you've ever wanted to hear Karlach say the words, "My Minthara," here you go:

Especially interesting since Orin claims to have killed Karlach when she replaced Minthara at camp.

[nocturusvulpus]

Ok so hear me out; Eternal Sugar x Golden Cheese

Also bonus doodle cuz these girlies for sure have a height difference <3

[femmeroi]

My stinky guys

[calamitoustide]

every time i listen to scotty doesn’t know i imagine Barty and Evan singing it about fucking Lily behind James’ back

[tenwhiteandalusians]

pertaining to the idea of tenax’s band of strays i do think it’s touching that the kids are the ones who saved him and waited outside the door to make sure he’s okay. for all tenax claims to be harsh and cruel it’s a fine indicator of his character that the kids won’t rest without him and are there every time he’s in danger.

[bmpmp3]

why does everything i get really into always end up being so god damn niche. by the year 2035 i am going to be blogging exclusively about the interpersonal relationships between the pillbugs and snails hiding underneath the bricks lining the flowerbeds in my parent's garden.

[anotherpapercut]

bro what the fuck are they doing with my package

[owlhead650]

hello noctor. you’re a very lovely amazing person. make sure to take time to relax even with uni going on. drink water, have a snack. much love from all the meteors

Thank you very much Meteors. I do love drinking water and I send much love in return. I like being your friend it's fun. Anyway it's been a year since I created my first oc, Asopo. He's the way in which I involved myself in the pokemon rebornverse oc culture. He's a large part of the means I used that led to me meeting you so this definitely matters to me. I do feel great attachment to this character I made. Here's a short story where I explore the dynamic between him and Melia and Erin from Pokemon Rejuvenation. This short story is about 3036 words long.

Also here's an epic versus sprite of Asopo created by aloepias on the Overseers discord server. Also @pokefangamebrainrot made an adorable portrait of him. Look.

I do love his expression in this. I find Mud Splash cute and funny too.

Pokemon Rejuvenation - Asopo's Letter

Asopo stared at the holographic file. It was filled with information about spells and how to make them. He and Melia needed to make one. They weren’t proud of it, so they had to keep their visits to zeight a secret. Even though basically all their friends already knew they were doing ‘something’ each night. Zeight was very quiet, he thought it was too much sometimes. Other times he thought it was perfect, it was peaceful. 

He looked away from the file and into the starlight abyss. Zeight had its own sky which seemed to be in perpetual cloudless night, yet if he fell off the platforms he’d land in this sparkly purple liquid. Maybe he should try swimming in it sometime. Or would that even be possible? Everything about Zeight was non-physical, mental instead. Maybe the water wasn’t even real. It provided only a nice aesthetic, as well as clarity about which way was down. Where was Melia?

It had been a little while since he last looked at her. He checked and she was just staring at a different file nearby. She’d been so quiet. As quiet as himself.

“Melia.” Melia flinched before turning around. He spoke very softly but seemingly any noise was surprising after hours of silence. Had it been hours? Time in zeight is weird. How did it feel for Melia to be here three months?

“Oh, hey Asopo. Is something wrong?” In general? Many things are.

“I want to talk to you about something important.” He realised that the statement might have sounded a bit intimidating.

“...Of course, you can tell me about anything.” Melia was kind. Sometimes she made Asopo feel warm, a lot of the time she made him worried and scared for her. Things just kept happening to her. “Can we sit down for this?” He looked at a bench he asked Mom Nancy to place which overlooked Zeight's expansive horizon. Melia went to it and sat down.

Asopo sat with her. He didn’t say anything right away. Even though he had promised this was about something, Melia waited. He was content to watch the waves with her. Even if no words were said, looking with someone else made the view feel even better. 

Waves.

Stars.

Light.

Darkness.

Warmth.

Company.

Peace.

“...Melia.” He said. “Asopo.” She said.

“Melia, I need to admit something embarrassing.” He knew she’d understand, he knew that she’d be as kind and patient when it came to this as anyone could be. It was still hard to say, even in somewhere as private as Zeight.

“Only if you’re comfortable. I’ll listen if you want.” Melia promised. She was beginning to get very curious though. There’s something exciting and cathartic about being confided in.

“What would you think if…” He trailed off. He wasn’t able to say anything else for a minute. 

“It’s alright. You aren’t forced to say anything you don’t want to.”

But he DID want to. He needed to. Asopo decided to approach the topic in a different way.

“How does it feel to love someone in the way that makes you want to date them?” His cheeks burned, but at least he said it.

“H-huh???” This was the last question Melia expected. “I… what makes you ask that??”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know why you asked?”

“No, I do know why I asked. I just don’t know the answer.” Being misunderstood was one part of talking that stressed him out.

“Well, I suppose you know it when you feel it? When I… when I realised I had feelings for Venam, I guess I just knew what the feelings meant? I suppose it can’t be taken for granted that you’d know. Lots of things about romance and dating and socialising in general aren’t taught to us. It’s just assumed that we’ll figure it out ourselves. Asopo… do you have a crush or something?” Melia felt like giggling, there was something about these sensitive topics that felt amusing and exciting in a weird way.

“Don’t call it that! This is about someone I love very much, but I don’t understand it. I don’t know what to make of my own feelings.” The word ‘crush’ definitely distressed him. It came with all sorts of expectations he didn’t like. Why was everyone limited to words that can be misunderstood? Why can’t Asopo just show people what’s in his heart?

“...Oh no, I’m really sorry Asopo. I really am, I shouldn’t of said that.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t making fun of you I promise. I would never, ever, mock you for anything.”

“It’s fine.” He looked at her for the first time since this conversation began. “I’m feeling something for Erin that feels really similar to friendship, but what I want from it is different. I love her just like I love you and Ren and Venam and Aelita and Amber… But I want to touch her more. I’ve noticed I want to hug her even more than my other friends or pokemon. I see her hand and sometimes I want to hold onto it. When I do touch it, like when we pick something up at the same time or I pass something to her, or just anytime that’s incidental or practical, I really enjoy it. I want to hold it even longer…” Asopo trailed off again. This last part was the most embarrassing, but he wanted to get it off his chest. He felt Melia giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. Her hand was sort of hanging off him. 

“Melia… I like how Erin smells.” He looked at her but turned away again after just a moment of eye contact. It was a lot to admit.

“It’s okay Asopo. There’s nothing wrong with feeling that.”

“But it’s confusing. I’m not in love with her, it feels too similar to friendship to be anything romantic. Romance feels intense, doesn’t it?” This was the hardest part. The biggest reason why Asopo kept it to himself for so long is because he doesn’t know how to describe it accurately, and the last thing he wants is for Erin to misunderstand it.

“Yeah, it’s really exciting when your feelings get reciprocated. But it’s intense too. Sometimes it’s too much, actually.” Melia thought about the time she had with Venam. But she was going through a lot of hardships. She couldn’t be a good partner to her while dealing with all that.

“I’m going to write a letter. Then I’m going to hand it to her and stand in front of her while she reads it. Do you think she’d like that?”

“Well if what you feel is hard to explain then taking the time to write it down in a way that makes sense to you could help. I think it would be important to say it to her too though. Saying it is hard, but it’s meaningful. It might feel good to say it.” Melia tried to make her advice sound like gentle suggestions. She didn’t want him to feel any pressure. It surprised her, to learn this about him. Asopo rarely said what he was thinking.

“I know Erin is busy with a lot of things, we all are, but I’ll try to get a word with her later today. How would she react if I asked her to speak in private?”

“I know that Erin really trusts you. I know she respects the need to leave some things unsaid, or for privacy. Go tell her.” By now Melia had taken her hand off of Asopo’s shoulder. The embarrassment had worn off and he didn’t want to hide his face anymore.

Asopo got up and looked at Melia. She was still sitting, from where she was she could see the starlight reflecting off Asopo’s hair.

“Melia. You’re one of the most important people in my life. I don’t think any amount of words could adequately explain how much our friendship means to me.” For some reason this wasn’t embarrassing to say. Melia grinned. She looked so pretty when she was happy.

“I would have to say the same Asopo. Without you I don’t think I’d still be here. Now go give Erin your adorable letter explaining your complicated, wonderful feelings to her.”

Asopo exited Zeight and entered the league HQ.

He found Erin in the lab reading a book on banishing curses and similar ailments inflicted by dangerous exposure to ghost types. She was sitting on a couch in the corner. Asopo sat next to her and waited for her to say something to him. He stared at her face. She had dark grey eyes, like Melia’s. He always loved the black bow and the white hair. She used to wear a white top that exposed her shoulders and this short black skirt, but these days she wears a long sleeved black shirt with white trousers and a coat.

The strange thing about Asopo’s relationship with attraction is that even though he was fully asexual, he still found girls pretty. Someone’s appearance is never really a factor in whether or not he ends up liking them or talking to them, but he still enjoys looking at beautiful people. It’s not the same as thinking another boy looks cool, so for the longest time Asopo assumed that this must be what people meant by being attracted to someone else based on beauty. He had since realised that isn’t true.

Erin looked up from her book. “Hey, Asopo. You have that look on your face. Did you want to ask something?”

“...Yes. But can we talk somewhere private?” He looked at the Sashila scientists at work. “This is personal.” Erin was interested by this. “That sounds very serious but I understand. Come on then.” She stood up. So did Asopo. She was taller than him by an entire head. They went to find a quiet room where no one would be listening in. Asopo was in a calm state of mind but he could hear his heartbeat. There was definitely some tension now that he was here, but it wouldn’t be hard. Discussing it with Melia and writing that letter had prepared him.

“So let’s hear it, Asopo. What did you want to say to me?”

“Read this.” He handed it to her.

“Oh? A letter? Why did we need privacy just so you could give me a letter? Or are the contents of the letter important? Should I read it right away? Is it something you’d struggle to say?” She read him like a book. Asopo was very confident in his own wit, but she was probably smarter than him.

“Yes.”

“Okay then. I will read it now.” Erin opened the envelope and pulled out the folded up paper without tearing any of it. It was written in blue pen with large uneven letters. 

To Erin,

I love you very much and I really cherish our friendship. I want you to know that the way in which I love you is a bit different to normal friendship, I think I feel something else too. For a little while I wondered if I was attracted to you romantically or sexually, but I know I’m not. I’m fully asexual. I think you’re one of the prettiest and most fashionable girls I’ve ever met but I don’t think that’s why I feel the way I do. 

The few times we hugged, I enjoyed it even more than I do with other friends. I want to hold your hand and in general I seem to enjoy physical contact with you more so than with other people. I honestly don’t know if there’s a word for what I’m feeling. It’s similar to friendship but I’ve never thought about how my other friends have a warm smell or gentle warm hands. I never ever want to make you feel uncomfortable, if any of these things are creepy then I’m deeply sorry and you’ll never hear of it again. I just want you to know that you’re one of the most important people in my life and I don’t want to ever go too long without seeing you or speaking with you. 

I consider you very smart, strong and kind. I always enjoy listening to your takes or comments on basically everything. I admire how confident you always are and how you’re always able to say what you mean.

When this journey ends and we’re all free to live a life where we aren’t in danger from anything then I want to continue being one of the friends you see every day. I love you very much Erin, I want to spend even more time with you and I hope that would make you happy.

From Asopo.

Erin finished reading the letter. She folded it up neatly and tucked it back into the envelope before pocketing it. The whole time she was reading it her expression didn’t really change. She finished it in just over a minute. “Asopo.” Here it was. The moment of truth. What does Erin think of his feelings? “Do you have any idea how lovely this is?” Erin asked with a very as a matter of fact tone.

“...Do you like it?” 

“Do I like it? Asopo I’m really glad you told me all this. For years I used to think there was something wrong with me. I didn’t have many friends growing up and many people treated me like I didn’t belong. When I never had any crushes on anyone, when I never wanted to be kissed or when the very concept of sex and marriage seemed repulsive to me, I thought I was broken. Do you know what changed?” 

Asopo thought about the question seriously, not treating it like the rhetorical question it was meant to be.

“Did you learn something new that changed your outlook?”

“Correct, actually. I learnt that being incapable of wanting the things that I was expected to want is not some defect, it’s normal. There are all sorts of people like that. I read it in a book and then it clicked. That made me feel much better about myself. The problem remains that I need to live with the challenges this state of being brings.”

“Which challenges?” Asopo asked. He had some idea but he wasn’t sure what specific issue she might have been referring to.

“Well not being able to want certain kinds of relationships makes you unable to have them. It seems that most people have a clear idea about where the boundaries between friendship and romance are set. There’s even the notion that if you have a close bond with some non-family member then it needs to be one of those two. The challenge for people like us is that we won’t really be able to have life-long partners. If you want something like that with someone then it’s sort of assumed you need to get married or at least be in love.” So far Asopo was delighted with how the conversation had developed. Just listening to Erin explain her reasoning contented him.

“Asopo, I won’t pretend we just found the solution to that. I also won’t say I’m fully sure that I feel the exact same way you do, but I am interested. You’re important to me, I value you. It made me happy to read about how much you care. And to clarify-” She put her hands on his shoulders, gripping them. “I never. Ever. Found you creepy. I know the bit about liking my smell is mortifying, but I respect honesty. I think I’ll hide this letter away somewhere safe, there’s no need for anyone else to know about it.”

“Melia knows.” Asopo interjected.

“I, what? Did you show Melia the letter?” Erin asked with a hint of frustration.

“No. I just told her I would be giving you one. It was hard to tell you, I admitted the embarrassing parts to her as practice for now. She was very understanding.” He thought about her smile. Melia was happy that someone she loved could trust her.

“Well I guess that’s okay then. If you want to spend more time with me that badly, then how about you help me with something? I want to find another book about medical science used to combat extreme conditions similar to genesis syndrome. I also need to find a book on crafting signature moves, it’s advanced stuff so I think you should read through it until you find the section on dark moves. I know you’re an expert on battling so finding that info should be well within your skillset. Will you come with me?”

This was another part that Asopo loved about Erin. She was so cunning. So efficient and logical in the best way. She wants to spend time with him but she’s also using the situation to her advantage and getting him to help her with work. He was delighted to help someone like her.

“Let’s be reading buddies.” Asopo said with dry humour.

“Yes. Let’s. Now would you like to give hand holding a try? Or actually before we go maybe a hug would be nice.”

“Yes please.” He smiled at her.

“Alright. Bring it in.” Erin opened her arms and put them around him. Asopo wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed. Due to their height difference Asopo ended up resting his head against her chest. Erin was resting her chin on his hair. Erin’s body was firm and warm against him. “Friend Erin.” Asopo said softly. Erin heard him and chuckled. “Yeah, friend Asopo. This is nice.”

They held it like that for a while. Eventually they had enough. “We have a Braivery taxi to catch. The landing stop isn’t far but would you like to take that hand holding idea for a spin?” Erin considered that just because Asopo said he wanted it in the letter, that wouldn’t mean he’s guaranteed to want it right away just because she did.

“Yes. Let’s walk through the sand together so we can find the bird.”

“Great idea.” Erin reached out and offered her left hand. He gripped it and she led the way.

So how was the short story? Did you find it cute? Cringe? Both? Either way I really like the idea of Asopo and Erin being together like this. It was one of the earliest ideas I had for him but I didn't do anything with it until now. Thanks to whoever reads this far, thanks to those who like my ocs and double thanks to anyone who ever made content for Asopo or my other characters. I really appreciate it. As of the time I'm writing this it's getting late. I've really enjoyed Asopo's first oc birthday it was fun to talk about ocs today.

[deers-doodles]

Bishop Venado

I made them a bishop form :D

Super proud of this too, we spent the last 3 ish days working on this uvu. Even lined it properly n everything. Just no shading tho-

[maretriarch]

the first time i ever saw the word radfem was back when the dancestors were coming out and someone used it to refer to latula/porrim

[ozzgin]

hear me out okayy imagine house full of obsessed monster x clueless human reader

I hear you alright. 👀 Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, stalking

You had been selected for an exchange program organized by the monster realm: one human to live with monsters, and one monster to walk among humans. They called it a cultural exchange.

Of course, you only found out about it after being kidnapped from your apartment. You thought you'd been taken by some mad serial killer and begged for mercy, until they finally dropped you before a regular looking office desk.

"Why the hell is the human so pale? What did you do?"

The monster lackeys fidgeted and mumbled some barely audible excuse. A slime creature poured you some coffee, and you gawked in confusion. The horned beast at the other side of the table seemed to realize his mistake.

"...They didn't tell you anything, did they?"

You shook your head in denial. To their defense, they'd never dealt with a human before. They must've gotten too flustered in the process, forgetting to speak. Or something along that line. You waved your hand, accepting their explanation, then probed for more details.

The whole ordeal is really mostly meant to satisfy their own curiosity towards humans, but they obviously couldn't express it so crassly to you. It's an exchange, you see. You, too, get to learn about monster customs, from the comfort of a shared home.

Thus, for the indefinite future, you'll be living with several creatures as roommates. You have been provided with your own room, naturally, in order to ensure your privacy.

Then again, how much privacy can one possibly get when surrounded by horny, deliriously infatuated creatures? Your underwear occasionally goes missing. You swear you feel watched every time you shower. And even more bizarre, you sometimes wake up to find a sticky film covering your pillow.

It must be anxiety. It was such a sudden change, after all. That's what the monstrous mates tell you in a sweet, caring voice. You appreciate their involvement, completely oblivious to the perversions taking place behind your back. Even the organizer couldn't foresee the unhinged thirst these beasts have for you. He didn't intend to ship you off as a wet dream to a pack of monsters.

"Is this alright, you think?" you ask, doing a little spin in the living room in order to show the chosen outfit from different angles.

The monsters shift slightly in their seats. If they were to be entirely transparent, you'd look much better stuffed with their appendages, pressed between them, coated in their fluids.

"Looks great", one of them manages to mumble, somewhat feverish. He let his mind wander too much.

"By the way, what were you doing last night? I could hear you saying my name repeatedly from your room."

The creature visibly tenses up.

"I was...I was practicing. It's a little hard to pronounce your name, you know? Being human and all..."

"Why didn't you just say so? I can help you with it. We'll practice until you finish properly", you declare with an innocent smile.

God. Keeping their hands off is becoming harder by the day.

[More Monsters]

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."