#I can just imagine how the post race look is going to be
Text
𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒
Kim Seungmin/female reader
wc: 3.1k
synopsis: someone is cheating // pt 2
rating: angst/sort of fluff ꩜ -`♡´-
⤜ · · ♡ · · →
Now Seungmin remembers just how lonely he can get
The dorm is silent. It’s late and everyone is asleep, but he didn’t realize just how late it had gotten until he closed the door a little too loudly. He drops his bags and pulls off his clothes as he makes his way to the bed, tossing them and leaving a trail as he goes. Typically, he throws them right into his hamper, or folds them neatly on his chair, but tidyness is far from his mind right now—almost everything is.
But still, his mind is racing. It’s spinning and it’s aching, and his heart is, too. He feels outside of his own body as he replays the last hour in his head, and he just wants to wake up from this nightmare.
Seungmin crashes onto the bed. He hasn’t been here in a few weeks, at least not to sleep, and the bed feels all wrong. The thought of being here, and not where he’s supposed to be breaks him, and his breath catches in his throat as he desperately holds everything back. But it’s too much, and he has to cry. Silently, though—that much he can do. He turns and pushes his face into the pillow and lets go.
A text comes through, and the first thought that runs through his head—it’s you, it has to be. Pleading for forgiveness, and throwing I love you’s in every direction. It’s not until he looks at the screen that he remembers the shattered remains he left on the floor. But you have other ways; your laptop, mainly. If you really wanted to, you could reach him right now with no trouble.
This text is from Jeongin.
min is that you? I didn’t think you’d be here. Everything okay?
As quiet as he was, that was all kind of ruined when he had to blow his nose and breath properly again. And there’s something about a post-cry nose blow that’s just…obvious.
yeah I’m okay
Everything will come out in the morning anyway.
If you say so…we can have a drink and watch something if you want to talk
Jeongin isn’t just perceptive; he knows Seungmin well, and he knows when something is off.
we can talk tomorrow, I should sleep
Seungmin has no hope of sleep tonight.
· · ♡ · ·
The broken phone at your feet blinks pathetically, trying with everything it has to hold on and buzz a text message in. You don’t care, though. You don’t need your phone if Seungmin isn’t texting, or calling, and only realizing that now is your problem. You got complacent—apathetic over the months you’ve been with him. Unbelievably stupid. You’ve ruined the best thing that ever walked into your life. All you can think of now is every word you want and need to say to him, but you can’t.
No, you can. Your laptop is right there, on the coffee table. If anything, you can gather and organize your thoughts, because you can't imagine him wanting to hear from you tonight. Getting him back might be impossible, but this still feels necessary. Sending it off in an email is something morning you will decide on.
Minnie, I’m sorry it’s come this—I’m sorry you have to feel the way you do right now, and I need you to know how much it kills me that you’re hurting. I’m sorry that I’ve done so poorly as your person, something I should be better at by now, that I have to write to you this way just hoping you’ll read it. I’ve failed you, because I should have been stronger, and I should have been there for you when you needed me the most. Not stronger, no, just better…more perceptive and more understanding. I do know how lonely it gets for you, because you have mentioned it before, but I’ve been so selfish for so long.
Getting to be yours for the last 2 years has been a dream. I never thought someone as sweet, and funny, and loving, and as beautiful as you would ever come into my life.
I won’t try to explain my actions, because there is no explanation. I don’t deserve you, or your forgiveness. I broke your trust. I broke everything. I felt entitled to fix my loneliness when you were suffering with it, too. But you didn’t hurt me. You’ve never hurt me. I want you to know that I love you, though. I love you more than anything. You are irreplaceable and I will suffer without you, because I should.
Three, four times you read through it before deciding to hit send. It can’t wait until you decide to wake up in the morning, because sleeping tonight will be difficult—but crying is exhausting. You doze off for an hour, then jump out of it abruptly for no reason. Panic takes over, and your heart feels like it might explode as you orient yourself in a tangle of sheets. Seungmin isn’t here, and it takes a moment to remember why.
You smack the keyboard of your laptop until it wakes up, and the new email at the top of the pile makes the panic even worse.
RE: (no subject)
Twelve minutes ago.
You click it and brace yourself for more heartbreak; more difficult truth. An end.
· · ♡ · ·
Seungmin does decide to get up and get a soju, but he does it alone. He needs something to help him relax; numb things a little, and make his eyes a little heavier. The time between is spent looking through old messages between him and you, which is not making things better, but Seungmin wants to figure out where things went wrong. He gets as far back as four months of texts when a notification pops up on his phone.
You did exactly what I thought you would, he mumbles to himself. It’s an email, no subject. Before the little banner disappears, he opens it, and he devours every word far too quickly. Seungmin’s heart races and his stomach swirls as he scans each paragraph, and then he immediately goes back and starts again, slowly.
Now he has something more to dwell on. He gets up and heads to the kitchen for another drink, and when he returns, he just starts typing:
I love you, too. Before I say anything else, I want you to know that. I keep reading your email over and over as I type, because my head is a mess and I can’t focus much right now, but your words ground me. They always have. It’s been a while since you’ve given me a hand written letter, and this, of all things, made me miss that. You have a way with words that I just can’t seem to replicate.
I’m hurting like I don’t remember ever hurting before. I feel opened up and ripped apart. I feel like I’m not enough, or I wasn’t enough. I was scared of a relationship because of this, I guess. Being away, not being enough, because I know I’m bad at expressing myself sometimes. Most of the time. Not being with you much makes it even harder. So I feel at fault, too. I need to own up to not always being there when you need me, even though it came with our type of relationship.
I’m sorry it’s so hard for us to talk like this face to face…or for me to, I guess. I didn’t give you a chance.
· · ♡ · ·
That’s it.
You’re relieved, but you’re not sure if you should reply again. Leaving it at this until morning might be the best option. But what happens in the morning? Does Seungmin come back home? Will he reply if you email him again? Maybe he’ll sleep in late, leave again, leave you waiting for a message just like you did to him. You think back to the last time he was home, and how you weren’t even here because you ignored his text. Not just ignored, but didn’t even look at it to see that he was waiting and wondering why you weren’t there to greet him.
It feels like your heart is being squeezed just imagining his confused face. And then your mind moves to him…the other one, and it makes you sick thinking of him now. It should have done that before. Irreplaceable is exactly what Seungmin is, that was no exaggeration.
Luckily, you fall asleep with his words in your head; the I love you, the possibility of another chance. And your guilt, still, of making him think he hasn’t been enough.
· · ·
There’s hardly a chance to think of replying to Seungmin. You don’t sleep long, because once you’re awake, you’re awake. Showered, dressed, coffee slowly dripping in the glass caraffe. You prep enough in the hopes that he’ll have some, too, but that’s mostly wishful thinking—a desperate attempt at a manifestation.
A reply has been rolling around in your head since last night, and it formed into a solid set of paragraphs as you took your time in the shower, now you just have to sit and hope it comes out just as well. And you do open his email, but instead of typing, you grab a pencil and a piece of stationary from the desk—stationary you bought just for his letters. You haven’t touched them in at least a year.
It actually comes out easier this time.
Seungmin,
Might as well start properly.
You’ve always been enough. I see you struggle every day with balancing your work and your regular life…me, us. I don’t know what that’s like—
The sound of keys makes you stop. The slide of metal against metal as it’s pushed in and turned; every bit of it is so, so loud. You look again at the broken phone on the floor, not forgotten, but not even deserving of a place in the trash can. You couldn’t bring yourself to touch it.
When you look back at him, the first thing he does is find you, and then he looks to the aftermath of his out of character temper. Then back at you.
You set the pencil down and stand, but you don’t take a step toward him. Every part of you screams to be closer, though.
“Hi,” he takes a few steps inside, kicks off his shoes next to yours. “Morning.”
It’s nearly noon, but you can pretend you didn’t stay up and sleep in late. You haven’t had coffee yet, anyway, so that’s what you do—you force yourself to the kitchen and pour a mug, and then you pour the rest over ice for him.
He watches, but looks at what you were working on as he gets closer to the coffee table. You don’t say anything when he picks up the piece of paper and reads it, rereads it. “I got you something,” he says as he places it back on the table.
“Uhm…you did?”
Why would he do that? You don’t feel like you deserve his gifts at the best of times, so you certainly don’t want anything now.
Seungmin digs in the shopping bag and pulls out a little white box, opens it, and then hands you your new phone.
“I was out of line last night, when I…” he looks at it on the floor again, “I’m sorry.”
“No, Minnie…you weren’t, at all”
“You didn’t deserve my anger”
“I did, I needed it. I want it. Please don’t be nice to me.”
“Okay, if you really mean that…” He walks over slowly and picks up his glass, takes a long sip... “I’ve never felt so angry at you before. I didn’t think I could feel like that, honestly. And I was still holding back.”
“I could tell. Part of me wanted you to let go.”
“Let go, let go how? I could never hurt you.” His touch is a relief—the gentle slide of his thumb across your skin, his hand closing softly around your neck. A much different touch than last night. “Phone, yeah. Him, maybe.”
“That person is gone”
“Did it help…did he help? Were you less lonely with him?”
Thinking about it isn’t really necessary, but you take a long moment to look at Seungmin—his eyes are big and wet, and they’re puffy from not getting enough sleep, or crying. Most likely both, though you can only remember seeing Seungmin cry once in the time you’ve known him. And it wasn’t over you.
“No, I wasn’t. I think it was making me feel worse.”
“I’m irreplaceable, right?”
The tease in his voice is obvious, and his little laugh breaks every bit of tension in the room. You need to pull him in and kiss him, but whether or not you’re there yet is still a mystery. Instead, you shift slightly closer.
“Yes, you are”
He smiles. You’ve seen him smile like that before, and it’s always when he’s in a certain mood. Seungmin sets his glass down and takes yours from you.
“Seungmin”
The desperate whine just makes him smirk.
“Please, Minnie…I need you, so much”
“I know you do, I know.” But he grabs your wrists and stops you as you move toward his hips. “You have me. And I need something to.”
“Of course, anything”
“Can you finish your letter?”
· · ·
Seungmin is never fast in the shower, especially not after he’s been away for so long. There’s no need for him to rush around now—he knows he has plenty of time, and plenty of hot water no matter how long he takes. Typically, you leave him alone when he’s in there, despite the occasional urge to go in.
But this time, of all times, you decide to act on that urge.
There he is, behind the glass partition. Steam chokes the air, and condensation keeps his body mostly hidden from you, but he’s tall enough that you do get a peak—back turned, head twisted to the side so the water can beat down on his neck and shoulders. He rolls them, groans with relief, and sighs. It makes you dizzy.
Then he finally opens his eyes and sees you staring at him. He smiles so wide, with all of his teeth, and it’s the most beautiful sight. It’s as if nothing bad has happened, and nothing is slowly tearing the two of you apart.
“I think I’m finally losing hot water,” he muses, mostly to himself, but he doesn’t turn it off. What he does do is turn to you and fold his arms over the partition. He’s just tall enough. “Hi, do you have something for me?”
You nod, shyly, and you don’t know why. The way he’s looking at you seems brand new, and it feels so intense.
“Seungmin…” you start, paper clutched in one hand. You don’t think you even need to read from it now.
He doesn’t interrupt, but he nods and gives you another little smile.
“You’ve always been enough. I see you struggle every day with balancing your work and your regular life…me, us. I don’t know what that’s like. I don’t know how difficult and tiring it is to be on all the time, and to switch off when you walk through that door to me. I have it so easy—I get to hide away from everything, and then at the end of the day, or the end of the week, month…I get you, I get to hear your voice, and see your face, and I couldn’t ask for anything better…”
He ducks away, and the water is turned off as one more big plume of steam rises up and starts to clear. You reach for his towel, hold it open for him, and wait patiently as he drips and shakes his hair. It’s cute, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him do it.
“…because there’s nothing better”
Seungmin steps out and lets you wrap it around him. The water beading down his chest is too much, and as he’s tightening it around his waist, you lean forward and kiss him there. Muscle flexes as you pull away and place another one, and then another until your lips close around his nipple.
At any moment, he could pull away from you, because he hasn’t made his intentions clear yet. He could stay now, for a while, for the last time, or he could leave as soon as he’s dressed. The letter is written and read to him, though it was short, and maybe that was the last of your say on the subject. Maybe that’s why he showed up—that, and the phone.
No. Seungmin wouldn’t put in this much effort just to turn around and leave. He’s still upset, and he’s still confused.
He looks down at you and closes his eyes, savoring the warmth of your lips on his cool skin. It might be too much right now to touch again, but he wants to.
A hand up your back is all it takes to get a sound out of you.
“Hey”
“Yeah?” Your forehead presses against him and you avoid his gaze.
“Everything you said, just now and last night…” he stops and hmms to himself, musing out loud again, “and what I said. Why can’t we say those things to each other. Why did it take this, after so long?”
“Because we’re both afraid of being vulnerable with each other, at least on our feet.”
Seungmin laughs at that. “Yeah, I guess it’s a little different during sex, but even then…”
“Are you saying you want—“ you stop, but not because he interrupts you. You stop because you’re terrified of his answer.
“…to work on it?”
He can still finish your sentences. Maybe that’s part of the problem—thinking you can read each other’s mind, even though sometimes you absolutely do.
“I can feel your heartbeat”
And it feels like it could stop at any moment. It feels like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, preparing to jump…to get pushed.
Seungmin pulls you even closer, and you wrap your arms around his waist.
“Is that what you think we should do?”
“I just want you to trust the person you give yourself to”
“Is it silly if I still trust you? I know you want me to stay, but the way you talk makes it seem like you’re pushing me away. Like you’re giving me an out.”
“No, it’s not silly. I don’t want to push you away, but I do hate myself more than I ever thought I could.”
“Maybe we’ve talked enough today. We both need more sleep…can we do that?”
#kim seungmin x reader#seungmin x reader#kim seungmin#kim seungmin fanfic#kim seungmin fluff#kim seungmin angst#seungmin x you#kim seungmin x you#seungmin angst#skz x reader#skz seungmin#skz seungmin x reader#skz fanfic#skz angst#stray kids fanfic#stray kids seungmin#김승민#승민#seungmin imagines
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Charles Leclerc takes pole position for the 2022 Signapore GP
#he looks so HOT#I can just imagine how the post race look is going to be#god#send help#Charles Leclerc#Formula one#f1#f1edit#singapore gp 2022#**
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ CRASH LANDING (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x f!reader
summary: lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.
genre: comedy, fluffy
authors note: a continuation of the ending to beached! you don’t need to have read that to understand this, however it will give some insight to the mclaren matchmaker jokes <3 also in light of that, this is set a few races in the future! *oscarsgf user refers to the character in beached!
*faceclaim: keeahwah on ig (but please imagine her as you see fit!)
landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚
tmz posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚
landonorris posted tweets ੈ✩‧₊˚
lando’s texts with y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚
landonorris just posted ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by carlossainz55 and 203,488 others
landonorris practicing safe driving
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user you are so unserious sir
user SOOOO IS THAT THE GIRL HE HIT BC
user no clue but she’s CUTE
oscarpiastri @/fia look here
landonorris i will literally remind your girlfriend of your murder attempts when you first met
user it’s giving meet cute
user i’d read a fic on it
yourusername you literally drove off BEFORE I WAS EVEN IN THE CAR
landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I WAS DISTRACTED
user ASSUMING THIS IS HER???
user @/user CLICKING ON HER ACCOUNT IT DEFINITELY IS
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by bestfriend, landonorris and 3,907 others
yourusername monaco recap🇲🇨 successfully didn’t get hit by too many cars!
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user AS IF LANDO HIT THE HOTTEST PERSON IVE EVER SEEN
user nah this is actually a full meet cute i’m sorry this is the shit you see in romcoms
bestfriend still can’t believe you didn’t take compensation but accepted a lunch date instead
yourusername can you blame me
user @/yourusername oh girl no one can you are so real for that
friend1 wait till everyone finds out you’re only there for another 4 days
user WHAT. i can’t have them separated already😶
user parasocial relationship with lando ended y/n is my new idol now
twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚
yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
[captions:
photo 1: lando paid for me to get my nails done !!!
photo 2: :D
photo 3: ur all romanticizing my life rn but this is my view in a fancy ass restaurant]
texts with your best friend ੈ✩‧₊˚
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by landonorris and 11,276 others
yourusername final days in heaven. i’ll miss so much about this place
👤 tagged bestfriend, landonorris
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user wait she doesn’t live in monaco?? she’s leaving??? just after i’ve gotten attached to her and lando???
bestfriend please come back to visit asap i cannot go too long without my y/n cuddles
landonorris seconded
user um lando sir,,, seconded the whole thing? cuddles included?
user this cannot be the end of the meet cute i refuse to
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by oscarpiastri and 286,425 others
landonorris safe to say i’ve had a pretty good break between races
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user a whole post dedicated to her with THAT caption? oh yep they’re whipped
user please tell me y’all are going to stay in contact?
user my heart is shattering already
mclaren 🧡
user MCLAREN PLEASE YOU’VE DONE IT ONCE BEFORE
texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚
mclaren interview ੈ✩‧₊˚
[transcript:
o: safe to say you’ve had a pretty interesting break before this race
l: hey let me remind you what happened for you over winter break!
o: okay but i didn’t literally hit my girlfriend with my car!
l: oh so you finally asked her out officially?
o: stop deflecting!
l: okay okay! yeah safe to say i had a nice time. always need a bit of a change in life!
o: so how are things going now?
l: (awkwardly) well you know how it’s… yeah
o: ah i get it. quite literally been there done that got the t shirt. but hey you did say all that when i got my big moment about mclaren—
l: no no no don’t give them any ideas! they’re listening!]
mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by 203,467 people
mclaren the boys are back! don’t forget to check out the new interview on our channel where lando and oscar talk all things hopes for the second half of the season, workouts and… girls?
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user mclaren. mclaren look at me. you know what you have to do
mclaren 👀
user when oscar asked him about y/n… i wanted to cry he looked so sad are things over between them?
oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you’re such a gossip
oscarpiastri you love me for it
oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you know what i’m thinking?
oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf plotting?
oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri plotting!
user what on earth is going on…
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername lately :)
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user you are so ! gorgeous !
user i can see why lando is obsessed
user speaking of… where is our favorite brit in the likes☹️
oscarsgf pretty girl!!!
yourusername oh?!? thank u cutie!!!
user ^ oh their plotting is in progress???
mclaren you’d look good in orange👀🧡
landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚
an email from mclaren ੈ✩‧₊˚
yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚
mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by 287,456 people
mclaren it’s race day🫡
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user WHO IS THE GIRL
user IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS
user PLEASE TELL ME THATS Y/N
user LOOK AT HER STORIES ITS DEFINITELY HER
user SOMEONE WHO IS THERE KEEP US UPDATED PLEASE
user just posted a thread ੈ✩‧₊˚
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 106,544 others
yourusername i don’t know guys, do you think he’s cute?
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user OH MY GOD FINALLY
landonorris i will hit you with my car again
yourusername is that a challenge mr. norris?
landonorris @/yourusername oh you better run fast
yourusername @/landonorris well duh cause you don��t know how to do the speed limit
user i love them. i love them so much.
oscarsgf omg can we force the boys to do mclaren double dates
landonorris leave this comment section now
yourusername @/landonorris too late we’re already texting
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by yourusername, mclaren and 300,091 others
landonorris we are successful victims of mclarens matchmaking services
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user THEYVE DONE IT AGAINNN
user new fav couple fr
oscarpiastri oh how quickly you all forget me
user @/oscarpiastri WE COULD NEVER
user clearly i need to work for mclaren to get a cute gf
oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf is the second photo giving you flashbacks as well
oscarsgf they’re stealing our thing
yourusername thank you for posting the nice park date photo of me
landonorris well in all the others you’re mid cartwheel
mclaren glad to be of service🧡 anyone else? @/patriciooward how are you doing?
landonorris i’m gonna stop you right there
———————
a/n: WELL. hello friends. i said i wasn’t gonna post a one shot for a while, then this happened. i just hope its up to standard! i’m a little rusty in my writing considering everything!
in regards to new works, gonna be working on getting my wips out soon, and maybe popping some new smaus out at the same time as they’re easy and quick-ish for me to work on considering everything going on! do forgive me if i do some random family orientated stuff — pregnancy hormones are giving me baby fever for everything (is it still baby fever if you’re having a baby?)
let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks — i’ve missed talking to you all sm! i have anon emojis available if people wanna chat too🤍
for the first time in a very long time,,, love, giselle xx
taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca
tags for this post: @the-untamed-soul @itsprashimusic @purplephantomwolf @jasminesacademia
#f1 x reader#f1#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris au#lando norris imagine#mclaren#lando norris blurb#lando norris smau#lando norris scenario#lando norris one shot
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Lando’s Biggest Fangirl (LN4)
Summary: It’s his girlfriend. Lando’s biggest fangirl is his girlfriend.
Warnings: language, sexual references???domestic lando 🧡🧡
Note: a filler while im super busy with school IM SORRY I COULDNT GET TO THE OSCAR CAUGHT IMAGINE TN BUT IT WILL HAPPEN TMRW I PROMISE. PROMISE.
y/nnn ass.
Comments:
Ln4andop81 BYE WHAT IS THIS
mclaren slumped
landonorris BABE.
- mclarensgirly idk why but this comment is so cute to me i love bf lando
landonorris everything about this post is so concerning
- y/nnn wdym? I think its perf
- landonorris first of all when did you take that of me and second of all THE CAPTION???
- y/nnn first of all i took it when you were sleeping thats obvi and second of all i like your ass. whats wrong with that?
- landonorris honestly? Nothing
f1fan2 i didnt know i needed this until rn
oscarpiastri your and lando’s relationship scares me sm
- landonorris TF??? WE DIDNT DO ANYTHING TO YOU.
- y/nnn PASTRY???? I was starting to like you too.
- oscarpiastri y/n i dont think thats the way you talk to someone who has that pic of your bf sweating after getting out of his race car.
- y/nnn oscar. this is not a playful matter. hand. them. over.
- mclarensgirly YO OSCAR LEAK THOSE IM BEGGING YOU
- landonorris WHY ARE PEOPLE TAKING PICS OF ME WITHOUT MY CONSENT.
—
y/nnn finally got that pic from oscar. safe to say my boyfriend’s teammate is in love with him.
Comments:
mclarensgirly THANK YOU FOR DROPPING THIS 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
ln4andop81 YOU ARE A GOD SEND.
landonorris yeah but im in love with you ❤️
- oscarpiastri WDYM “yeah” IM NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU????
- y/nnn idk man this pic says something else
- mclarensgirly LANDOSCAR IRL???? AWWWW
- f1fan2 OMG THE SHIP IS SHIPPING 🤭🤭
- oscarpiastri NO.
—
y/nnn FROTHING AT THE MOUTH. CHEWING ON THE WALLS. JUMPING UP AND DOWN. GIGGLING. SMACKING MY FIST AGAINST MY HEAD.
Comments:
landonorris WOW.
landonorris youve out done yourself with this caption
landonorris very vivid image of you absolutely going bonkers
- y/nnn thats the POINT hottie 😉😉
- mclarensgirly y/n calling him hottie lol shes just like us
oscarpiastri i want to block you
danielricciardo sometimes i wonder if ive followed the wrong account and this is just a 16 year old girl’s fan page
- y/nnn 16 year old me wouldve been feeling the same type of way as me now is.
- danielricciardo plz never say that again
- landonorris im so concerned
—
y/nnn awww look at my baby he’s so cute and babygirl 🤭🤭
Comments:
mclarensgirly the versatility of this woman never fails to amaze me
landonorris the eyes never lie, chica
- y/nnn AWWWW CAUSE YOU WERE LOOKING AT ME IN THIS OMFG AWWWWWWWWWWW
- landonorris i can hear your giggling
- y/nnn im not surprised
mclaren our favorite couple (we are so glad we didn’t come across another violent post on your page) 🧡🧡🧡
- y/nnn dw we will be getting back to regular programming shortly <3
- mclaren take the phone away. landonorris
- landonorris im literally on the other side of the world idk how i can do that
—
y/nnn BARK BARK 👹👹👹 GAHDAMN
Comments:
mclaren here we go again…
- y/nnn WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO??? SAY NOTHING??????
- mclaren YES.
- y/nnn WELL THATS NOT AN OPTION.
landonorris well the barking is new!
- y/nnn you say it like youre scared
- landonorris thats cause i am.
oscarpiastri bro
danielricciardo ngl he looks good here
- y/nnn THANK. YOU.
- landonorris thanks dan
- y/nnn SO YOU THANK HIM AND NOT ME????
- landonorris YOU BARKED AT ME.
- y/nnn ITS THE PROPER RESPONSE.
- landonorris NO BABY IT IS MOST DEFINITELY NOT.
- f1fan2 their relationship is my roman empire
—
landonorris giving it a try: GAHDAMNNN BABY 🥵
Comments:
mclarensgirly WOWIEEEE SHE DOESNT GET ENOUGH RECOGNITION
F1fan2 she makes me question my sexuality.
Liked by landonorris
ln4andop81 mother of god almighty my jaw is on the floor
mclarensgirly thank you lando for blessing my eyes with this
ln4andop81 SHES SUCH A GREEK GODDESS
y/nnn see i dont like it when you do it 😟
- landonorris are you actually kidding me.
- y/nnn why cant you just leave me to my delusions in peace???
- landonorris bc they arent delusions im literally your boyfriend
- y/nnn YUM SAY IT AGAIN 😩😩😩
- landonorris omfg
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 x reader#mclaren#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris edit#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris#lando norris x you
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Overtime
Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).
A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.
Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.
You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.
“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”
“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.
“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”
“You’re still doing it.”
Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.
And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.
“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”
Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”
But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.
Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.
Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.
“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”
“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”
“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”
You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”
“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”
Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.
“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”
This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.
Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”
You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.
“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”
The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.
This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.
You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.
The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.
Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.
“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.
Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.
And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.
It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.
You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.
“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”
In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.
Also not a great sign.
Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”
“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”
“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”
Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.
“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”
“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.
“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.
This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.
You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”
“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”
Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.
“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder
You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.
There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.
“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.
“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”
That at least earns you a hint of a smile.
*
Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.
You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.
You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.
Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.
You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”
Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”
You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.
But you’re also not about to say no, either.
“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”
The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.
“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.
You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”
“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”
“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”
You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.
“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?” he says.
You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”
He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”
“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.
Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”
“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”
He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”
It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”
“We’re going out for dinner.”
*
He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.
“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.
“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.
An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.
“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”
“Please,” he says.
“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”
“Coffee would be great.”
“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”
He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”
“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”
“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”
“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”
“Technically.”
“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”
You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”
“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”
Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.
“Please,” he says.
“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”
You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”
“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.
“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.
“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.
“Liar,” you say promptly.
He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”
“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”
“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.
“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”
“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”
“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”
“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”
“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”
“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”
“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”
“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”
He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”
You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”
That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.
“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”
You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”
“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”
Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.
“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.
You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”
“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.
You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
“It’s not a lie—”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.
“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”
There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.
“It does.”
There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.
“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”
He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”
It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”
He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”
“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”
He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”
You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”
Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”
“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”
Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”
“I think I have that memorized at this point.”
“‘The perfect choice for families.’”
“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”
“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”
“‘You can’t say no to that.’”
You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.
The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.
“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.
His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”
You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.
Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation.
Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.
“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.
“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”
Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.
“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later.
“What’s that?”
“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”
You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”
He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”
You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”
“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.
You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”
“What are body shots?”
For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.
He’s teasing you.
“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.
He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”
You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”
He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”
You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.
But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.
“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.
“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”
“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”
He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.
“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says
“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.
“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”
Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.
There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together.
“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”
“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”
“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”
He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”
“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”
“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”
“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”
You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.
“Where are we going?”
“I know a place.”
*
The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.
“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.
Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”
“You do. It’s Mobius.”
“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”
“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”
He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”
You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”
He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”
“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”
Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”
You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.
The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.
“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.
“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”
“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”
“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”
He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it.
You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.
“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.
“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”
“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”
“Darling. You have a TemPad.”
“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”
He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”
You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”
“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”
He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”
“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”
He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”
“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”
It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”
He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.
“Of course.”
Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.
The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.
There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.
You touch his hand. “This way.”
You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.
“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”
He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”
“What is it?”
They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”
The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”
“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”
This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”
You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”
“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”
“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”
“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”
“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”
He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”
You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”
He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”
“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”
Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”
“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”
You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.
You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”
He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.
There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“For what?”
“For showing me that.”
“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”
He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.
For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.
The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.
Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”
There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.
You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.
But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.
*
You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.
But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.
“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.
It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.
Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”
You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”
Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.
“There’s still so much left.”
“There’s still tomorrow.”
You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”
He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”
He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.
You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.
You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”
To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.
You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.
As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.
“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh.
This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.
“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.
“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”
Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.
And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.
“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit.
“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.
She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”
With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.
“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.
Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.
Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.
But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.
You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—
“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.
“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”
“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”
“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.
His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”
You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”
“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”
Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.
“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”
You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.
He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.
“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”
“Thanks.”
In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.
You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.
When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.
You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.
You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”
“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”
You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”
“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.
You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”
He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”
You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”
“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”
“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”
“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”
“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.
He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.
Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.
“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.
“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”
He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”
“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.
“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.
“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”
With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.
“Hey!” you shout in protest.
“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.
This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.
Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.
“This is ridiculous,” you say.
“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.
You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.
He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.
“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”
That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.
He grins. “Not a chance.”
You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.
It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.
Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.
“Yield,” he says.
You shake your head. “Never.”
His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”
“No.”
Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net.
But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.
“Yield.”
You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”
Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?
“Yield.”
God, he’s so close and you want him so badly.
“No.”
He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.
They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.
“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.
“No,” you say.
He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.
He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.
“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar.
“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.
You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.
“No,” you say.
“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.
His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.
“Cheater,” you say.
“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”
You shiver. “Your prize?”
“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”
“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”
“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants.
“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.
“You have not,” you say.
“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”
You nod. “Yes.”
He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.
You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”
You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.
He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.
You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.
His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.
Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.
“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.
“What is it, my love?”
“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”
You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs.
You believe him.
His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.
“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.
You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.
“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”
You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”
His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.
“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”
For who?”
“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”
“You’re not,” you say.
“Some would disagree.”
“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”
There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.
“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”
“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”
You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”
“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”
A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”
The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”
“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”
“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”
“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.
“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”
That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.
“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”
This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.
“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”
Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.
You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.
“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.
He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.
Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.
You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.
You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.
This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.
Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.
It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.
“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”
“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.
“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.
“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”
His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?
“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”
You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.
You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.
You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.
“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”
“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.
“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”
You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine.
“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”
“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.
“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”
You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.
He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”
You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.
“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”
He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.
Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.
He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.
After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.
“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.
“Yes,” you breathe.
He rolls on top of you and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.
He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.
But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.
You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.
He does.
He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.
He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.
He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.
“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.
You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”
He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”
His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.
He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.
He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.
“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.
You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”
“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”
With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.
He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.
“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”
He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.
He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.
You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.
“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.
He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”
You whimper. “Loki—”
“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”
Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.
You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.
As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.
It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.
After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.
You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.
You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.
You don’t know it then, but you’re right.
*
Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.
Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.
“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.
“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.
“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”
Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”
But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.
“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”
You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”
“A confession,” says Mobius.
“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”
Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee.
Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”
“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”
“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”
“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.
Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”
You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.
“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”
Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”
Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”
Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”
“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”
Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”
Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”
“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”
“What do you mean?”
Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”
Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.
“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”
“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”
“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.
Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”
“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”
Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”
Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”
“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.
“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.
It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.
“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.
“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.
“I know,” he whispers back.
But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.
“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.
“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.
He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”
Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”
He grins and tugs you through the time door.
-------
But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.
#loki smut#loki x reader#loki x reader smut#loki laufeyson smut#loki x female reader smut#loki x female reader#loki laufeyson#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#tva loki x reader
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Go for his brother part 2
Part 1 here
Part 3 here
username1 DOUBLE BETRAYAL 😭
↳username2 wdym bro wtf Arthur is just getting his karma, he CHEATED on Y/n with her best friend
↳username2 and Y/n only got with his brother after the breakup
username3 It's so crazy to me how not long ago Y/n was with Arthur at Charles' race and we could see them all lovey dovey and now she's with Charles 💀
username4 I hope they actually like each other and it's not just something Y/n schemed to get back at Arthur
↳username5 And even if it is, so what? Both Leclercs deserve this if she's doing it for the sake of revenge
username4 What did Charles ever do to you 😭 he's a literal pookie
username6 I am BEGGING to find out Arthur's reaction
username7 I wanna see this on Drive To Survive lmao
↳username8 The most interesting thing in the whole season lol
username9 Exactly! Men driving in circles? Nah, fuck that, give me family drama
yourusername The Art & The Artist
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charles_leclerc I took way more than these 2 pictures, should post them all
↳yourusername some would get me banned🤭
username1 MY OH MY
username2 What did she say 😐
username3 I'm jealous but haven't decided if I want him or her
username4 Arthur better not read this comment section (I hope he will)
francisca.cgomes Thanks for blessing my eyes 🫶
↳yourusername You're welcome bestie🫶
username4 it's so nice to see Y/n found a friend who won't steal her bf
username5 You can't be sure, it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about. You think he wouldn't go for his best friends' girlfriend who is now his own girlfriends' best friend after pulling what he's just pulled?
username4 ngl girl I got lost in whatever you're saying
yoursister In your iconic girl era ❤️
↳yourusername I slayed didn't I 💅
username6 Honestly guys I believe it's not just a revenge scheme
↳username5 What makes you think that?
username6 Given these pictures and the pictures from the gossip page they look pretty much happy to me, too happy for it to be fake
username5 Whatever you say, we'll see. They have to get tired of pretending one day
exbestfriend Glowing ✨🩷
↳yourusername 😐
↳francisca.cgomes 😐
↳yoursister 😐
↳charles_leclerc 😐
↳pierregasly 😐
↳georgerussell63 😐
↳carmenmmundt 😐
↳alex_albon 😐
↳lilymhe 😐
username7 Y/N AND HER COMMENT SECTION ARE ICONIC 😭
↳username8 I can't stop imagining them having a gc and she sent a screenshot of her ex best friend's comment like "you know what to do, guys" 🤣
username9 I just know Arthur is screaming crying throwing up because LOOK AT WHAT HE LOST
username10 Lol who's next? Toto Wolff?
arthur_leclerc My favorite love story is ours ❤️
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exbestfriend So happy we found each other ❤️❤️
username1 💀
username2 Alright they both have the audacity
username3 your love story is cheating on Y/n lmao
username4 Imagine they have a kid one day who'll ask mom dad how did you meet lol
↳username3 I'd be EMBARRASSED
username5 They deserve each other tbh
username6 Hey but... What if this pic and Y/n's pics were taken on the same day...
↳username7 wdym
username6 Arthur wanted to keep and eye on his ex and his brother from afar 😭
username7 it's terrible but possibly true lmao
exbestfriend I'm so sick of people judging us
↳username2 That's what you deserve, the both of you
↳username4 when actions have consequences:😮
yourusername Back at the paddock ❤️
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username1 At least she didn't downgrade right?
yoursister You guys look so good together
↳yourusername Thank you 🫶 ily
↳charles_leclerc Yes we do 😊
↳username2 Y/s/n never commented anything like this when Y/n used to post with Arthur😭
lilymhe It was nice catching up with you when the boys were playing
↳yourusername maybe next time you and Alex could come over so the boys can play some video games together
username3 Pls they're just two single mothers bonding over their toddlers being besties😭
username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF ARTHUR WAS THERE
↳username5 You crazy? Ofc he wouldn't have come, he's too scared of confrontation
username4 Okay but then what if one day Y/n and Charles get married? Will Arthur just skip his brother's wedding?
username5 I think some time will pass before Charles decides to settle down. And not with Y/n, that's for sure
username6 Why not? Y/n makes a much better couple with Charles than she did with Arthur
username5 Charles would never take her seriously lol she dated his brother, Charles is just having fun with her while letting her have her moment
arthur_leclerc Are you wearing the dress you wore on our first date?
↳username2 SHE'S WHAT?????
↳username3 wtf are u doing here
↳yourusername Maybe...
username4 Mother keeps slaying 😭👏
username7 I aspire to be like Y/n fr
alex_albon Lily said we should have a double date
↳yourusername Let's do it then @/lilymhe @/charles_leclerc when and where
arthur_leclerc I just wonder when will you get bored of this
↳yourusername Bored of what exactly? Going to races? You know I've always enjoyed looking at cars go vroooom
arthur_leclerc You know what I mean
arthur_leclerc Of pretending to like Charles just to prove me some delusional point
yourusername You really think I'd waste my energy on that? It's a funny coincidence indeed, but I do like him actually
arthur_leclerc Mhm sure I give you maybe 6 months more, can't keep pretending forever
charles_leclerc A family gathering & the morning after
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username1 OH GREAT HEAVENS
pierregasly Now that's something none of us expected
↳username2 bro speaking facts
username3 They said fuck you Arthur you'll get a proof we're not pretending😭
username4 Well at least the family already knew her
↳username5 Pascale liked Y/n so much she said girl you have my blessing no matter which one u marry
username3 Guys do you think Arthur was there? You know, it's a family gathering, so he had to be there, right?
alex_albon Charles settling down wasn't on my bingo card this year
↳lilymhe Neither was it on mine but I love it
francisca.cgomes Girl you realize there's no going back now? 😂
↳yourusername I hope so😜🫶
arthur_leclerc I still can't believe how disrespectful you both are
↳charles_leclerc Look who's speaking of being disrespectful
↳yourusername stfu arthur maman literally had to kick you out of the party
username3 The way it used to be "Thurthur" and now it's "stfu arthur" 😶
username2 at least the "maman" is the same right
username5 I feel like Pascale likes Y/n more than she likes Arthur
username7 wtf guys PASCALE HAD TO KICK ARTHUR OUT OF THE PARTY 😭😭
↳username8 That's crazy, imagine how's the wedding gonna look like
carlossainz55 Getting engaged after a few weeks? Is she pregnant?😂
↳username9 Not funny
username10 Chill that's just millennial humour from back when pregnancy outside marriage was a disgrace
↳charles_leclerc We've known each other long enough to make this decision 🫢
carlossainz55 Valid point
arthur_leclerc But for majority of this time she was my girlfriend
charles_leclerc On which you cheated
arthur_leclerc @/yourusername did you use me just to get to Charles? Was it your plan from the beginning?
↳yourusername Sure because I have nothing else to do lmao
↳yourusername We've talked about it yesterday arthur, don't start again
arthur_leclerc I just still can't believe Charles would do something like that to me
yourusername And half a year ago I believed you wouldn't have ever cheated on me
charles_leclerc I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, Arthur I will always love you as a brother, but you messed up big time, you can't be mad at us
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#f1 smau#f1 social media au#Charles leclerc smau#arthur leclerc x reader#Arthur leclerc smau#Charles leclerc social media au#Arthur leclerc social media au
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I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️
when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau
PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader
SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you.
WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad
A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶
creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3
yourusername posted to her story!
[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]
charles_leclerc
liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others
charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️
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username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍
username all time favourite wag ! 🥰
yourusername ❤️❤️
(liked by author)
username ly girl🫶
username oh she won😩
username **they. they're both literally perfect omg
username nah u right my bad🫡
scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳
username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him
username real
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others
yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂
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yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️
yourusername love u so much🥹
username queen🫶
username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌
username that's bc 27 IS young lol
charles_leclerc belle👸
yourusername 😘
username you guys are so cute omg
username *cries in 29 and single*🤧
username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername
yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx
username you ate that y/n😌
iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗
yourusername my girl 🤍
Three weeks later...
tmz_tv
liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others
tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.
In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.
During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.
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username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes
username a literal ray of sunshine🥹
username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶
username this doesn't feel real...
username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛
username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(
username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔
username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕
username sending prayers to the family 🙏
scuderiaferrari
liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others
scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.
This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.
Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️
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8 months later...
Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.
If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.
As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.
A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.
Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.
Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.
He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.
The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.
Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.
“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.
“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”
Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”
Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”
“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.
“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”
Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.
“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.
“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”
“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”
“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.
"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."
Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."
Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."
Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”
Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.
“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”
Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.
Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.
“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.
Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”
“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”
Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”
Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”
The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.
Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.
A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.
“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.
Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.
“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.
Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”
Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.
“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”
“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”
He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”
“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.
f1gossipofficial
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f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.
Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.
We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.
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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves
username right?? so respectful🫶
username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready
username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲
username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭
username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕
username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏
username dmed u!
username me too pls
username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!
username 😭😭😭
4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44
#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#f1 imagine#cl16 x you#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x female reader#charles x y/n#charles x you#charles leclerc fanfic#smau#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc imagine#f1 instagram au#fanfic#f1 fic#charles x reader#cl16 fic#f1 scenario#formula 1 x reader#cl16 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#charles leclerc one shot
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Passenger Princess - Max Verstappen
Summary: Some moments between Max and his passenger princess
Y/n had briefly mentioned she wasn't really the best driver and since Max drives for a living, he's always been happy to let her take the passenger seat and drive for them.
Not that he isn't curious. But equally y/n is one of the best passenger princess' he's ever known. That could just be because he would choose her company over anyone else in the world and can't imagine enjoying anyone else in that position.
"Schat, time to go." Max smiles as he finds y/n with Daniel and Lando since she'd been killing time waiting for her boyfriend to be done with whatever he was going.
"Aww are you taking my best friend away?" Daniel jokes as y/n greets Max with a kiss.
"And now I feel single from witnessing the two of you, I'll be on my way." Lando states earning a hum before he takes off while Daniel does steal a hug before also leaving him.
Once the couple is left on their own Max doesn't waste much time getting them to his car, opening the car door for her which earns him a kiss of thanks from the young woman before she slides into the leather seats.
Gently closing the door for her, he moves around to the driver's seat and climbs in too, smiling when he sees y/n has already kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up, crossed in the seat.
"Seatbelt, schat." Max states earning a soft smile and making her quickly yank the seatbelt clicking it into place. "Do you just want to go for a bit of a drive?"
"Always." Y/n beams making him hum beginning to reverse from the parking space. "Music."
Y/n pokes the glove box open and pulls out some gum gently putting some in Max's mouth for him before slumping back down in the seat.
Max usually prefers to not spend hours and hours driving around killing time, but when y/n is there. He loves spending time with her. Loves seeing her and spending time with her undisturbed. Not something he can say is so easy to achieve elsewhere.
"You looked great out there. So so good." Y/n declares earning a smile. "I keep getting tagged in loads and loads of posts about how you look so godly after races. Standing up on those podiums."
"Oh yeah?" Max laughs since y/n has no shame in bragging endlessly about her boyfriend, his success and how unreal he looks standing up on the podium, the medal, the biggest trophy and higher above the others.
Just the mental images that rush through her mind get her feeling the rush.
"If I wasn't so sure that you love me, I'd let jealousy get the better of me."
"Schat, you are very secure in this relationship. But you get jealous any time a woman is within arms reach."
Y/n rolls her eyes, she isn't ashamed of her jealousy about Max. She knows how good she has it with him, he loves and takes care of her and she tries at every opportunity to return the favour.
"They know I exist. It's not too much to ask for them to not get in your space." Y/n grumbles while he looks at her for a moment in amusement.
"See you cannot even contain your jealousy just thinking about it."
"Alright, well I appreciate them for giving me content that I would otherwise not have immediate access too." Y/n grins as feel Max's hand come over to her thigh, squeezing the exposed skin.
-
Max rarely choose to drive from Nice airport, but sometimes he just likes the drive. Especially when y/n is tired.
Today is one of those days, getting her out of the private jet and he's known she's exhausted. He's not entirely sure why but she definitely got the giveaway tired eyes.
"Come on, schat. Let's get home." Max smiles as y/n feels herself pulled up onto her feet by him. Purposely getting her up on her feet as a test of how tired she is.
"Mmm...Max, I'm too tired, stop it." Y/n whines immediately. Her hands grabbing at him till he's scooped her up and is carrying her out of the jet.
He smiles feeling her face hide in his neck, though she can't stop herself from placing a kiss on his skin.
He sighs managing to get her sat in the passenger seat and buckle her in, she's still awake and manages a lazy smile at him but he's certain watching her kick off her shoes that she has no intention of being conscious for the drive to Monaco.
"Talk to me. I want to hear your voice." Y/n murmurs making him smile a little as her as she moves her hand to link with his own. It's another giveaway that she will be falling asleep quickly.
Max begins talking, able to talk about all sorts of things that he can think of. Not worried about any of it making sense or sounding ridiculous since y/n hums and murmurs in weak responses, seemingly trying to fight her body on succumbing to the sleeps.
"Schat, do you want me to call the chef ask him to come over for making some food?" Max whispers making her lift her head as if she's confused over the words that just came out his mouth. "Food. Do you want food?"
"Yeah, I want food please." Y/n yawns, huffing slightly as Max squeezes her hand before lifting it up to kiss the back of it which earns a smile.
-
Max driving cars around tracks as part of the content side of the job isn't uncommon. But usually it features Perez. However this time they decided to ask if y/n would surprise Max with an appearance.
However, what they didn't expect was her to pale and look utterly terrified.
Max drives fast for a living but actually when he's driving with y/n in the car, he seems to take much more care with his speed and almost go only a little bit above speed limits. But after reassurance that she would be fine. She agreed to part-take, if only to see Max's reaction.
"Alright, your co-driver is seated. Ready when you are." The marketing girl smiles making Max nod pulling on his helmet and climbing in to see that his co-driver is wearing his helmet design.
Y/n turns grinning at him and the look of surprise is well worth the multiple cameras from all different angles.
"You are my co-driver?"
"Yeah, I think given my reputation the girls were surprised when I didn't want to be your passenger on this occasion." Y/n jokes as he leans over checking her seatbelts, rebuckling and tightening them a little as she swallows thickly.
"Don't worry. I always take good care of you." Max smiles as she gives a slightly nervous smile. "You'll be fine."
After double checking her seatbelts, he buckles himself in before starting the engine and laughs seeing her jump just at the engine revving.
"Alright, lets get going." Max smiles pulling off the clutch and hitting the throttle.
Zooming around the track y/n's hand comes up clutching the shoulder of his racing suit as she repeatedly shouts no, only making him laugh.
"Your eyes are closed!" Max exclaims making her whine.
"They were open!" Y/n shouts back then peeking one eye open to realise that he's passing the line and still going. "You're not stopping!"
"No, we are doing a few laps." Max chuckles, he's lying but he wants to see if a few laps earns more faith in his ability to drive and not just crash directly in the wall.
Her grip only tightens giving away that he eyes are definitely open to see what's happening and of course he's eager to really traumatise is girlfriend so he does a few donuts at the end just to make sure she knows she is actually safe.
"I'm never doing this again." Y/n pants when they finally stop. Max clapping a little while she pouts at him. "I think I should be allowed to drive around now."
"You can if you want."
"You're mad, help me out of here." Y/n laughs making Max laugh and nod, he knew he was stretching his luck with that one. "I prefer being your passenger when you are just driving on the road."
#f1#fanfic#formula 1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fic#max verstappen f1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen fluff#verstappen#mv1 fanfic#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#mv33#mv1 x y/n#mv1 x you#mv33 x y/n#mv33 x reader#mv33 imagine#mv33 fic#mv33 x you#mv33 fanfic#mv1 fluff#mv33 fluff#red bull team
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the bookworm ꨄ george russell smau
george russell x bookworm/writer!reader
the one where george couldn't be prouder to call you his, even if it seems like the whole world hates you just for doing what you love... even if they don't know the whole truth.
georgerussell63
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georgerussell63 enjoyed the time off! would never complain about spending time with my best friend, time to get back into things 💪🏎
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username gotta go check off 'george posts shirtless pics during off szn' on my bingo card
username gotta go check off 'yn cares more about her own hobby than her bf' on my bingo card
username girl you got issues with books? can't read?
alex_albon bad hair day? or are hats your new thing
yourusername tried to convince him to go with the bucket hat, but he claims 'all the kids are wearing caps babe'
username girlypop can't even enjoy a holiday with george without being focused on anything other than him??
username he's literally NECKING her in one of the photos?????? do you want her to koala hold him everywhere???
username future wdc russell george and his future writer wife frfr
username 1/2 of these things are probably true and we both know it's not the second lol
yourusername spoiling me always, my handsome handsome man 💗
georgerussell63 wouldn't have spent the last few weeks with anyone else (even if you kick me in your sleep nightly)
username do you think yourusername pictures george as the main male character in any of the books she reads???
username if i can picture him in fanfiction, im sure she pictures him in everything else???
gisèlerosebooks
liked by yourusername, lilymhe, username, and others
gisèlerosebooks first time being on any device since my trip with my favourite person ended. the love on collided continues to amaze me, and i'm so extremely honoured to continuously receive so much love from not only the reading community, but many of the formula 1 faithful as well. this is NOT the end of the journey, either. for now, let the formula 1 season begin... and maybe find me at a race or two? 🤭
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gisèlerosebooks oh and to my incredible, amazing, handsome boyfriend, thank you so much for always proofreading my formula 1 terminology and understanding. i promise i'll give you real credit one day.
username god adrien is so charles leclerc coded, he's all i could think about this entire book
lilymhe 🏎🫶🏻
username the fact i literally could've cared less about the lil zoom zoom cars before the dirty air series dropped and now im eager for the new season.... gisèle baby why u do this to me
username miss girl???? how are we supposed to find you at any races when we don't even know what you look like!!!
username jealous of gisèle's bf is!!! his gf is too talented for the world
username not throttled being the book to get me back into reading and now i'm blessed wth a second book??? mother is mothering real hard
username this is the type of book series i'd totally read at the track and imagine an f1 driver as my husband sry
username 10/10 book!!! dying!!!
yourusername has posted a story
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georgerussell63 wow we're so lucious and hot
yourusername luscious sweetie
georgerussell63 god i love having a hot, smart, book-writer gf. write a book about me and use that word
yourusername they're all already about you??? (handsome)
username you showed up to a race?????? shocking
gisèlerosebooks has posted a story
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username omg!!!! where are you!!! dying to meet you omfg
username YOU WERE SERIOUS
georgerussell63 i saw u slip up and post this on the og account loser
georgerussell63 can i have my scooter back ya nerd
gisèlerosebooks no sorry </3 i own it now
georgerussell63 no creds in the books and now my scooter stolen???? you hate the british
gisèlerosebooks my pseudonym is an ODE to you PAL
georgerussell63
tagged yourusername and gisèlerosebooks
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georgerussell63 a shame that this weekend didn't go the way we all wanted it to go, i know for a fact we'll be coming out on top soon! i also know yourusername or as most of you seem to prefer (for no valid reason at all) gisèlerosebooks is pretty deep in finishing book 3 and apparently this weekend was super influential??? go me (give me book creds)
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yourusername george!!! lmao!!!
yourusername a heads up next time??? maybe?!?
username 'for no valid reason at all' so SASSY oh boy
username everyone on twitter the other day calling yourusername a freeloader is soooo not doing well rn
lilymhe the secret's out!!!! (shocked, baffled, wild, can i get my books signed now)
username (G)isèle (R)ose... (G)eorge (R)ussell... dare i say... deliberately done
yourusername 🤭
username amazing race this weekend!!! can't wait to see you on top
username no one talking about book 3 almost being done??? or the fact george proofreads all her writing??? so cute
charles_leclerc so collided... is not about me?
georgerussell63 get lost mate
yourusername has posted a story
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georgerussell63 you think im a gentleman??? love you
yourusername the BIGGEST gentleman, i love you
username god this is so cute
georgerussell63
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georgerussell63 that's my little freeloading, best-selling author and future wife!
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username someone come get this chronically online man rn!!
yourusername can i be your freeloader forever??? spending my own money sucks
georgerussell63 my money's your money always my little freeloader
alex_albon emphasis on the best-selling author and future wife part
georgerussell63 you're right mate
username re-reading dirty air and knowing fully the entire book series is about george makes me so happy omg
username proud to admit i loved yourusername before AND after she was revealed as everyone's fav author (and it's not just a hobby losers)
username george doesn't get book creds until he wins a race again :)
yourusername i love this stipulation!!! georgerussell63 thoughts?
georgerussell63 you hate the british.
i had SO much fun writing this!!! i picked george after going down a george rabbit hole again (of course), so i hope you all love it!! thanks for all the love always.
i'm not necessarily taking requests right now, but if you have suggestions please feel free to send them my way.
#george russell#george russell x reader#george russell x you#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1#george russell imagine#george russell fluff#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#f1 one shot#f1 smau#george russell smau
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he never imagined he'd show anyone this side of himself. but when it's you, he can't help but show you everything.
a/n: starting the side character writing off with a bang! this is part two of the first sign of affection.
content: what do the side characters do when they want to show you they appreciate you?
warnings: once again, if physical touch isn't your thing, neither is this post. also, solomon is a sad boi.
diavolo; he falls asleep around you.
the future king of devildom takes everything in stride. from RAD problems to royal affairs, diavolo has it all covered. but sometimes, even the ruler himself finds himself on the panicked side. he begins to seek you out when he finds himself standing on anxiety's edge; your presence relaxes him to the point where he can't fight off the tiredness that clings. as the papers get signed, diavolo's eyes start to droop, and he doesn't notice the way you shift yourself closer to catch him. he falls asleep on your shoulder before he knows it, and you allow him to rest as long as he needs.
later, when he stirs and lifts his head to look at you, you quickly coax it back to where it was, sending his heart racing. "go back to sleep, you need it."
"... thank you." diavolo relishes in the way your hand combs through his hair, taking a moment to breathe a sigh of relief.
═ ˎˊ˗
barbatos; he fiddles with your hands.
as diavolo's right hand man, barbatos barely ever has a second to spare. so when he extends you an invite to come and have a tea tasting session with him, you absolutely cannot decline. throughout the day, he hands you flavours upon flavours of tea, each time never failing to ask if you'd like to take some of the leaves back home for yourself. the two of you eventually sit in a comfortable silence, fingertips brushing when you reach for the tea pot at the same time. without a word, barbatos slips his gloves off and reaches for your hands, beginning to idly play with your fingers.
your eyes widen in surprise, but you allow him to continue. "you... you okay?"
barbatos doesn't take his eyes away from your hands. "please, indulge me for just a moment," he says softly, placing his palm on top of yours.
═ ˎˊ˗
simeon; he plays with your hair.
simeon is often a man of few words. after all, he can never get his d.d.d. to work when he wants to call or even text you. so instead, he goes the old-fashioned way and comes knocking on your door instead. his heart skips a beat when you usher him in, and time flies by without much effort. the two of you sit pressed into each other's sides, and simeon takes his chance when he notices how your head bobs up and down sleepily. his hand reaches up and begins to tenderly card his hand through your hair, chuckling at the wobbly grin you began making.
"that feels nice," you murmur, settling even further into his side.
simeon lightly nuzzles his face on the top of your head in return. "i'm glad."
═ ˎˊ˗
solomon; he cries in front of you.
for someone to have lived as long as solomon, emotions begin to blend together. he's long forgotten where the line between sadness and anger lies, and it shows when the sorcerer smiles at a situation that calls for a frown. you recall the story he told you long ago, remembering the way his expression wavered as he recounted his memories. you stand by his side now in silence; his voice falters as he tries to say anything to you. in response, you turn his face towards you, telling him to do what he has never done in front of anyone.
you bring him closer, wrapping your arms around him. "stop holding back. you're safe with me."
"safe with you," solomon whispers back. the dam breaks, and in your presence, solomon allows tears to fall for the first time in centuries.
a/n: i love cat, if you couldn't tell.
#obey me#obey me swd#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#diavolo x reader#barbatos x reader#simeon × reader#solomon x reader#obey me nightbringer#aris writes 🐈⬛
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Mick Schumacher x Platonic!reader Oscar Piastri x Platonic!reader Logan Sargeant x Platonic!reader Liam Lawson x Platonic!reader
Summary - Five young drivers, five different teams and one friendship group
Warning - One hate comment??
Reader drivers for Redbull
Part two
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yourusername
Back in the paddock, who's ready for the season??
Tagged: redbullracing
Liked by fernandoalo_oficial and 203,479 others
username Can't wait for more success from our girlie
username We miss you, where have you been??!
= logansargeant She spent the whole winter break binge watching gossip girl and gilmore girls
= yourusername Shhhhhhhh
username Just waiting for the baby drivers content!!
liamlawson30 posted a story
logansargeant
Fuck I'm friends with some weird ass people
Tagged: mickschumacher liamlawson30 oscarpiastri yourusername
Liked by alex_albon and 202,735 others
username Nah Oscar's just being cute ngl
username Liam is giving main character energyyyy
yourusername Why is mine the worst one here omfggg??
= logansargeant Because you are the most weird one!
= yourusername I'm not sharing my sushi with you after the race this weekend
= mickschumacher Aww mate, you've really fucked up there lolll
yourusername posted a story
yourusername Should I die my hair Red?? Seriously debating it rn
OscarPiastri No, please no!
SchumacherMick Hell yeah! Fire hair!!
LiamLawson30 Oh god! Mick don't encourage her!!!! OMFG
LoganSargeant All I'll say is that you drive for Redbull, and the colour red is owned by a rival of yours
yourusername OMG YOU ARE SO RIGHT!! Let's do rainbow then!
LiamLawson30 Well done Logan! That worked well didn't it?
OscarPiastri I'm so done with you four, so done.
SchumacherMick You know you love us!!
mickschumacher
Y/n choose the group activity today and she choose sushi, surprise surprise! And Liam turned up in his Ken hoodie which he was very proud of lmao
Tagged: yourusername oscarpiastri logansargeant liamlawson30
Liked by georgerussell and 214,648 others
username That sushi looks sooo good thooo
username Is Y/n wearing friendship bracelets?? Please tell me she made the rest of the guys one each!!?
= username OMFG CAN YOU IMAGINE
liamlawson30 We should defo do sushi again!! I'm still very proud of my hoodie!
= yourusername I loved the hoodie!
Groupchat - Baby drivers (Mick-Purple / Logan-Blue / Oscar-Orange / Liam-White / Y/n-Pink)
HELP FUCK
WAIT WHAT?!
Mick what did you do?!?!
Are you in safety?!
Whats happened???!
I was stalking this girls page when I accidently liked a post from when she was fifteen!!
Aww mate you're screwed!
When she was fifteen?! How old is she now??
Damn you really fucked uppp
She's 23! So over seven years agooo
Yeah that's awkward ngl!
maxverstappen1
Soo thank you for the smashed trophy Y/n, always so helpful! :|
Tagged: redbullracing yourusername
Liked by yourusername and 223,781 others
username She really said 'Let's all share this win'
oscarpiastri I don't know why they trust her near trophies, pretty sure almost all of her own are broken
= yourusername Shhh, I'm trying my best to seem trust worthy
username Thing is she just laughed about it lol
= username I'm just glad that Max isn’t that annoyed, he joined in with her laughter
yourusername posted a story
f1gossip
Spotted: Redbull driver, Y/n L/n and Actor, Barry Keoghan are seen and paped leaving a restaurant together in Monte Carlo. From our sources, it looked like they were on a date and that they were both very intimate with each other. Do we have a new wag in the paddock and are we going to see one of our baby drivers walking a red carpet more often?
Liked by logansargeant and 59,572 others
username Y/n and Barry Keoghan??! The same Barry who was in Saltburn??!
username He is almost ten years older than her ewww
oscarpiastri Oh so this is how we find out...
= logansargeant Ikr!
= mickschumacher She said that she was busy at a redbull event tonight
= liamlawson30 Apparently nottt
username Not the other baby drivers finding out through this post!!!
Groupchat - Baby drivers
So Y/n how's the redbull event??!
Yeah are you and Max bored yet?
Yeahhh
Uh guys I can't really talk rn, me and Max are needed on stage to speak
Oh don't worry, say hi to Barry for us
Barry? Who's Barry??
You know Barry Keoghan, the Barry who you were seen cosying up to at a restaurant in MONTE CARLO
Yeah didn't know the new Milton Keynes is in Monte Carlo, crazy right!
Fuck you've seen the paparazzi photos right...?
Yep! So what's going on with Saltburn guy???
Yeah go on tell us how it went
Or how it's going
yourusername posted a story
-
#formula one#formula one x reader#formula one fanfiction#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#mick schumacher#oscar piastri#logan sargeant#liam lawson#mercedes#mclaren#williams#alpha tauri#redbull#mick schumacher x reader#oscar piastri x reader#logan sargeant x reader#liam lawson x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#max verstappen
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max the wag: caught in the middle l mv1
a/n: so... this isn't the best part of the series but I saw this post on instagram last week and just couldn't resist! hope you enjoy it <3 x
pairing: Max Verstappen x fem reader
genre: fluff
you can find the rest of max the wag here <3
summary: You find Max on a WAGs Instagram page, just not how you'd imagine.
Mexico Grand Prix, 2023
The only time you left the energy station during race weekends was when Max was crowned the winner of the Grand Prix, making your usual route the back entrance, energy station, parc fermé and then, if people were lucky, would catch a glimpse of Max and you leaving hand in hand, big smiles on your faces even if you always tried to keep your head down.
Sure, this wasn’t always the easiest for you, wanting to be there with Max most time, but in the early stages of your relationship when you first attended a Grind Prix as his girlfriend, you told Max it wasn’t an interest of yours to be known or to have your face plastered on Instagram profiles. Of course, it was inevitable, but both you and Max tried your best to make it work, even if it meant Max would have to begrudgingly answer a question about the relationship to the fans so they wouldn’t start speculating.
Max even made an effort to stop F1TV from broadcasting you, and it cost him an app exclusive interview.
This never worked to ease the break up rumors always emerging. You were able to put the latest one to rest during Qatar where you were waiting with your arms wide open when he was crowned champion, shortly kissing his lips and forehead during the commotion, everyone trying to get a hold of him.
Of course, that was the highlight of the weekend even if Max didn’t win the race, but a close second was the appearance of a new WAG, a gossip both you and Max had closely followed since pretty much the beginning of the season, but you never crossed paths with her and were only aware of the confirmation when you were back in the hotel.
Now, you were mindlessly scrolling through Instagram posts, getting ready to watch the race in your apartment in Monaco with Jimmy and Sassy, the F1 app playing on the iPad screen, when a particular post caught your attention.
It was Max, completely clueless of what was going on behind him: Rebecca and Carlos were easy to spot, absolutely not trying to hide, happy smiles and not trying to hide.
You didn’t notice the F1 transmission was focusing on Max inside the garage, but the first thing you did was send the post to Max.
MAX BABE, YOU RUINED THE SHOT!!!
The camera kept following Max as he checked his phone for the last time, and this time you were thankful for it since you were able to check his every facial expression as he opened the message.
What am I looking at, schatz? A terrible picture of me before the race??
Are you trying to help Lando win??
The transmission showed how GP approached Max to go over the strategy, forcing Max to hand over his phone before seeing your answers.
Babe, she’s Carlos gf! Remember back in Barcelona when we weren’t sure if it was true? WELL IT IS
IT’S THEM IN THE BACK!!!
The gossip was soon forgotten was you watched Max win once again, texting your congratulations while pointing at Max in the TV for Jimmy and Sassy to see, even if you could sense their judgement.
Right after the podium ended the phone vibrated, your favorite part of race day when you weren’t able to be with Max, was the mandatory FaceTime call, showing you his trophy, completely soaked in champagne, giving you his best smile.
“Congratulations honey! You were incredible, it was a great race, I’m sure you enjoyed it!” You animatedly said to him while wearing one of your own Red Bull jersey with his number on it.
“Yes, yes… so, did he really cheat on his ex?” Max asked and you gave him a confused look.
“What are you talking about?”
Max stared at your face in the screen, giving you a look of disbelief. “Carlos! You sent me that post of that horrible picture with them in the back,”
Now that you were caught up, it was impossible not to appreciate your boyfriend right now, with his blue eyes wide open, still holding his trophy, but waiting to be updated on whatever was going on outside the track. “I have no idea if he cheated, you were the one who overheard the Ferrari mechanics!”
“But you are the WAG, schatz!” Max argued.
You scoffed. “Yes, and I am the worst WAG ever and you know that!”
“Don’t say that about yourself, there’s nothing wrong about wanting to keep your privacy,” Max reassured you, like he always did.
“Maybe I can put on a show next week and try to find out what people know…” You said to yourself.
“I’m sure Charles’ ex knows… what was her name?” Max asked you while trying his best to remember.
You chuckled before answering. “Charlotte, baby,” you replied and he nodded his head as if he was trying to tell you he always knew, it just slipped his mind. “and yeah, I’m sure she knows but I don’t want to talk to her just to interrogate her, you know? Maybe,” you were going to continue before Max interrupted.
“Schatz, I have to go but I swear I’ll figure out who may know more about this, okay? I love you, can’t wait to see you,”
You hurriedly said an “I love you” before the call ended, knowing Max was going to do his best to gather information he’d be waiting to share once you reunited in Brazil. And maybe, just maybe, you’d consider arrive to the track walking hand in hand, kissing his cheek for good luck, for everyone to see.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen au#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fic#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 fic
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🐾 Il Pawdestinato
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Bianchi!Reader (fc. Alexandra)
Genre: Comfort/Fluff
Summary: A disappointing fourth place as Suzuka has your boyfriend feeling down. Maybe all he needs is a teeny-tiny surprise.
So this is that imagine that I've been talking about making. Sorry, it's taken so long. I hope you all enjoy and I promise I am working on the next chapter of Reputations. I just think that since it's a smaller fic, I could do an imagine and a chapter for the week. Let me know what y'all want me to do!
You internally sighed as you watched the red car with the number 16 cross the line in fourth place. Anger started to bubble below the surface and you had to turn around for a moment, hoping that the cameras in the garage wouldn’t catch the sneer on your face.
How hard was it to get Charles on the podium that his heart needed?
The tenth anniversary and it seemed to not matter to anyone except your family and Charles’s. But of course, it’s Ferrari. Can’t give their driver a decent car or a decent strategy. When Charles is ahead it’s race on if you’re faster. But if Charles is faster but behind it’s stay in position.
When were Ferrari finally going to actually put actions into their words? Or give their chosen driver the better strategies?
Your blood had almost boiled over at the very distasteful words of Damon Hill when he called Charles depressed and emotion during the weekend. Sorry, it’s not like his godfather or your brother had a fatal crash ten years ago. Totally not that.
Charles had to hold you back from seeking out the former champion when you watched the interview.
But now, you just had to be there for Charles.
Your hands held the helmet that the Monegasque would have brought to the podium with him if he had been up there. The helmet that should have been brought to the podium years ago if everything had been according to plan.
But ten years ago, fate had a different story: one that didn’t include your brother in the narrative.
Your high-heeled feet quickly took you to Parc Ferme to meet him there. You didn’t want to be too late. Multiple people in red parted for you as you made your way to the cars. The shiny helmet seemed to blind anyone who looked at it.
Charles took his time getting out of the car in the P4 placement. His heart was heavy as his head turned to look at the wrong Ferrari parked a few meters away. God how he wanted that to have been him. His eyes watered as he started to take his gloves off. He could see the tilt of Carlos’s lip as he gave his post-race interview. He despised the driver for it.
However, as he turned, a glint of silver caught his eyes. The Monegasque almost choked on his spit when he saw that you were holding it up. He all but ran over, trying to get there quickly before Max was called up.
Charles held out his hands when he got close, however he froze when you placed Jules’s helmet in his hands. His own helmet was still on, probably him trying to hide his own tears. Except, you had let yours run free.
You gave him a little nudge.
“Go,” was all you told him.
The Ferrari driver, now with helmet in hand, jogged over to the cool down room. The security around didn’t bother him, almost knowing what he was trying to do. He poked his head around the corner and caught a bit of the conversation.
“And you were struggling with tyres,” he heard Max say as he watched the Dutchman almost give Carlos a cold shoulder. Max’s eyes widened when he caught a familiar red helmet peeking around the corner. He cocked an eyebrow but walked over when beckoned.
“Charlie?” he questioned when he saw the Monegasque crying in his helmet. Max wanted to question him further, but something was thrust in his hands. He looked down in shock.
Charles shuffled on his feet a bit.
“Can-can,” he stuttered under the Dutchman’s gaze. He inhaled deeply. “Can you take this with you? On the podium?”
He shut his eyes tight, not even wanting to see if Max rejected his plea. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he opened his eyes just a bit. He was confused when he saw that Max was close to tears as well.
Max gulped the big lump in his throat, taken back by what Charles was asking. If Max could, he’d switch with Charles in heartbeat.
He tried to give the brunet a smile, but it came out kind of crooked. Max clutched the helmet close to his stomach, careful not to accidentally drop it. He looked down at the silver detailing. The only thing lacking on it was the Ferrari emblem. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that this wasn’t just an extra helmet from Charles.
“I-I’m sorry I c-can’t bring it up myself,” Charles tried to justify, but he couldn’t get the words out.
In the back of the cooldown room, Checo’s eyes were trained on the pair. His eyes slid to the side only to find Carlos not even looking. The Mexican wished he could hear when they were saying, but the familiar helmet told him everything he needed to know. He watched Charles back away and disappear around the corner. Once the red-clad driver was gone, Checo saw Max stiffen as though he realized what this actually meant.
The second Red Bull driver got off the seat and walked over toward the Dutchman. He peered down at the silver helmet. He could almost hear Max thinking in the silence. Now he was the one to place a comforting hand on Max’s shoulder, as the Dutchman had done for Charles.
“He trusts you Max.”
Max only breathed in and nodded. They were quickly called to line up go to the podium. When the blond got to the top step, he made sure to hold the helmet where everyone could see. It was kind of like a testament to truly show that he was the wrong driver to be holding it on the top step.
His blue eyes tried to find green in the crowd below, but he failed. Max even failed trying to find you. He deflated a bit but still held his head up high. Max’s lips quirked when he heard P screaming from below in the arms of Kelly.
While Max held the helmet, really all he could think of is if he would have friends who’d hold his helmet in reverence if he were to tragically die. He’d like to think that Charles would race with a dedication helmet all race year long. He wouldn’t want it on Carlos’s helmet or Checo’s (but he knew that the two would do it anyway).
Even though he was missing green, his eyes did catch a wide smile. He was glad that Danny was there, knowing the Australian had been close to Jules during his time in F1.
Max had been so caught up in the anthems that he didn’t even realize that they had ended. Not wanting the helmet to get ruined with champagne, he quickly ran around to hide it behind the wall. He made sure it was stable before running back out to join in the celebrations. He knew that he’d have to give it back after, but for now, he could only receive sprays of bubbly.
Charles’s head had been buried in the crook of your next since he got back to his drivers room. You could only rub small circles on his back, trying the comfort the sad man.
“Why am I just never good enough?” Charles whispered into the silence. Your breath hitched when you heard the utter despair in his voice. “Can’t even get a podium for Julio.”
“Charles, it’s not you. Please, never think it’s you.”
The Monegasque only sighed and turned more into you. Your hands blindly reached for your phone. Once your fingers hit the cool case, you immediately grabbed it and started to plan something. You knew that the two of you were headed to Milan this week for sim testing and for the grand opening of LEC. But, you knew that you could make it even more special.
You grinned as you made the plans and sent over a hefty amount of money, but it’d be worth it.
Hopefully.
A knock on the door had Charles sitting up straight. He quickly rubbed his eyes before heading over to the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with a soaked Max, who had slightly sad eyes. In his hands was the helmet.
Max’s gray eyes swept over Charles before looking around the room. He gave you a smile when your eyes met. A quick nod of you head told Max everything he had to know. He turned his eyes back to Charles and handed the headpiece over.
There was some awkward silence before Max coughed.
“I’m guessing you’re headed back to Maranello?”
When Charles shook his head no, the Dutchman was a little confused.
“We’re headed to Milan first,” was all Charles offered.
You snorted at the short words from your boyfriend. Charles grew red but then offered a little more intel. “I have that ice cream thing.”
Max’s eyes widened when he realized that it wasn’t just a rumor or a joke. Charles made a face.
“I’m very serious about my ice cream Max.”
Oh, Max guesses he said that out loud.
The Red Bull driver snorted. “I wouldn’t doubt that Charles. Everything you do, you do it best.”
Now, Charles grew red (but not of embarrassment).
“Thank you,” he whispered, squeezing the helmet a bit tighter. You were still scrolling through your phone as they talked a bit more. You were just making sure that the place you were staying at had the correct accommodations for your surprise.
It was only when Charles got back into his spot on your chest did you realize that Max was gone. You turned your phone off and put your hands into his hair and started to scratch lightly. A content sigh escaped Charles as he finally melted into you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead.
“We have to get going or the flight is going to leave without us,” you murmured into his hairline. You had talked to Fred (more like demanded) about letting Charles skip debrief for the time being. The money in your bank account could pay for whatever expenses the Monegasque would be fined if he skipped everything.
In the plane, Charles had curled up to you once again. When you made sure that he was sound asleep, you got your computer back out. You finished typing out your email to Doni, making sure that everything was in order for when the plane would land. You just hoped that you could keep the surprise a secret for a little longer.
Knowing that Charles would be dead tired when you got to the place where you’d be staying for almost two weeks, you put him straight to bed when you arrived. He went down with little to no arguments and was sound asleep as you unpacked everything.
Pulling back the covers, you were able to slip in next to him. As you were about to fall asleep, Charles wrapped his arm around your middle and brought you closer. His lips met the crest of your shoulder before tucking his head back into your neck. You put your hand over his arm and held it tightly.
In the morning, you were woken up by the sound of a blender from the kitchen. You sleepily put your feet on the cool tile and made your way to the open room.
Charles had his bare back to you as he was slaving over frozen fruit and oat milk. He startled a bit as your cheek came to rest on his shoulder. Your lips pressed against your favorite freckle that stood out amongst the rest of the galaxy on his back.
“Good morning amore.”
You always loved his terms of endearment in the morning when his voice was still deep with sleep.
“Morning Cha.”
Charles smiled as he heard sleep still evident in your own voice. While he pressed the automatic blend button, he turned around to face you. Your eyes were still closed as you looked at him with a dopey smile. Charles couldn’t help but mirror it, even if you couldn’t see it.
He leaned down and placed feather-light kissed on your eyelids before moving down to your nose. The Monegasque always loved doing that as your nose would immediately scrunch after.
A whine left your lips, signally to him that he hadn’t kissed you where you wanted it yet. He rolled his eyes and stooped a bit lower, his lips finally finding solace in yours.
After three years, you still couldn’t get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands slip up his arms until they locked behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. His own hands found themselves planted against the span of your hips.
It was just the two of you in your own little world for a bit, leaving you breathless when you finally parted, smoothie long forgotten.
Charles rested his forehead against yours.
You hummed, getting his attention.
“I have a surprise for you later today,” you told him. Feeling him tense against your chest, you knew he was immediately interested.
“Like, later today or in a few hours.”
“More like in a few hours. We have to get ready and then get going.”
You and Charles quickly drank your smoothies before you headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Teasingly, you swung the keys around his face as you walked out to the car, claiming that you had to drive because he didn’t even know where you were going.
“You get to be passenger princess now my love,” you called as you climbed into the driver’s seat. Charles could only roll his eyes.
He would never admit it, but he secretly liked being the passenger every once in a while. It gave him the freedom to choose the music and not worry about getting one place to another.
Once the car got closer to the location, Charles had a sense of what was going on. He turned his head toward you once you pulled into the house. His eyes were sparkling (but you knew they’d get brighter once he understood why exactly the two of you were here).
Charles unbuckled with you following suit.
“Are we here to see Mimi?” he questioned as he held your hand, swinging it as you walked.
You were digging through your purse with your other. “Something like that.”
The doorbell was rang and Charles smiled at the sight of his friend.
“Hi mate,” he greeted, pulling Doni into a hug. You gave the man a greeting when you had the chance.
“Follow me,” Doni said, pulling you and Charles into the house. You could tell that the Monegasque was excited as he squeezed passed Doni and immediately went to pick Mimi up. You giggled, seeing your boyfriend turn into a literally baby for the small dog.
Seeing that he was preoccupied, you leaned over to Doni.
“Is he here?”
Doni smiled down at you. “We can go get him.”
You turned to Charles. “Love, Doni is going to show me a new painting that he’s been working on. I’ll be right back.”
The only response you got was Charles kissing Mimi on the head and waving you off. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad because moments later, your hands were full of puppy. You clutched the blond dachshund into your chest.
“He’s perfect,” you whispered, kissing the puppy’s head lightly, earning a little yap in return. You and Doni returned to the bigger room, still finding Charles enamored with Mimi. You snorted at the sight.
“Charlie,” you said, gaining the Monegasque’s attention for a moment. The minutes Charles’s eyes were on you, he froze at the sight of the itty-bitty puppy in your arms. He set Mimi down immediately, but the bigger dachshund wasn’t offended.
Charles gingerly stepped over and his hands hovered over the little puppy in your arms. His eyes met yours, silently asking to hold the tiny thing. You rolled your eyes and you gently set the unnamed puppy in his hands.
The baby dachshund looked tiny in your arms, but now looked even tinier in Charles’s bigger hands. The Ferrari driver held the puppy up to his face and was met with a wet tongue against his nose. The giggles that resounded out of the grown man made you melt inside.
After the right amount of attention was given to the pup, Charles looked at Doni.
“What’s his name?” he asked his friend.
Doni smirked down at you.
“That’s for you to decide love.”
It was comical with how big Charles’s eyes got when he finally realized that the puppy in his hands was his (well, you two would share him). Tears even welled up in his green eyes, making them look incredibly glassy.
You cooed at the two while stepping closer to put your hand back on the puppy. The little thing yawned and snuggled deeper into Charles’s hand. His head whipped up so he could look at you.
“I’m never putting him down you know that right? I’ll make him a little pocket in my race suit and he’s going to go everywhere with me.”
You snorted. “I don’t think puppies are built to withstand the G’s baby, but I’ll keep him company in the garage. He’ll have Roscoe to play with next year too.”
Charles stopped listening after you had said “baby,” his brain melting. Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about a future with you and an actual baby. That made blood go to different places and he needed to stop thinking about that.
Doni had walked away for a moment and came back with a piece of paper.
“You think of a name superstar?” the man asked, pen poised to write.
Charles held the British-crème dog up to his face and looked into the boba-like brown eyes. He hummed as he put him back down at stomach level, still not wanting to put him down.
“Leo.”
Now that you snorted. “You’re going to name our son after your rival?”
Charles paled once he realized and stuttered as he tried to make up an excuse. “Non, it’s like the LEC logo. The ‘C’ looks like an ‘O’ if you squint.”
You laughed but nodded at the excuse. “Sure amore, sure. But I think Leo Leclerc suits him. Little baby.”
Doni also laughed as he wrote down Leo’s name. “More like Leo LeHandbag because I don’t think superstar is going to put him down anytime soon.”
You turned back to Charles, but the man was already crouched down next to Mimi, showing off Leo to the older dog. You facepalmed.
“I am dating a literally child. First an ice cream line and now this.”
Doni smiled. “He looks happy.”
You sighed in content. That’s all you had wanted to do since Suzuka: make Charles happy. You couldn’t bring back your brother, but you could offer small hopes to the man you loved so dearly. Your eyes widened when you looked at your watch.
“Love, we have to go. Your launch is in an hour and a half.”
Charles pouted. “We’re bringing him right?”
You smiled softly. “Yes, let’s bring our son.”
The two of you said your goodbyes to Doni before heading out. Charles still wanted to be the passenger so that he could hold onto Leo for longer, knowing that he’d have to give him back to you once the launch started.
“I still can’t believe you named him Leo after Max.”
“He is not named after Max.”
“Sure babe. It’s definitely not like Roscoe being named after Nico Rosberg.”
“Wait. Lewis names Roscoe after Rosberg?”
“Yes Charlie. But it’s ok. I can be second best to your work-wife.”
“Max is not my work-wife.”
“Whatever you say. Il Predestinato now has Il Pawdestinato.”
“HE WON IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA!”
“I swear Charles, I will take him back.”
“LEO LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 DOGGIE GRAND PRIX!”
“I’m dating a child.”
y/n_bianchi has posted
y/n_bianchi little Leo Leclerc ☀️
liked by charles_leclerc, lestappenlove, y/nxcharlie, and 4,204,096 others
leclerc_fam oh my gosh he's so cutieeeeeee
i_want_y/n do y'all need another one? cause I can bark 🗣
charliesangels STOP DID Y/N GET HIM A PUPPY AFTER SUZUKA????
lestappenlove not them naming Leo after a certain lion rival
brocedes2.0 reminds me of lewis naming Roscoe after Nico Rosberg
lecluv ice cream, a puppy, and a gorgeous girlfriend - Charles is living the life 😭
roscoelovescoco yous is goings to haves to brings him to the paddocks so I's cans meets new friend! ♥️
y/n_bianchi of course roscoe! I can babysit so the dads can do their thing 🏎💨
lewishamilton can't wait to meet the son!
charles_leclerc he'll be at Shanghai ☺️
roscoe&leo they're going to be the IT dogs of the paddock
leolovescharlie imagine having formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc and Ceo of a multimillion dollar company Y/n Bianchi as your parents
maxverstappen1 I like the name! 🦁
y/n_bianchi i told him that you'd say something
charles_leclerc HE IS NOT NAMED AFTER YOU
y/nxcharlie it's cat dad Max Verstappen vs dog dad Charles Leclerc
iamred_iamyellow choose your fighter
y/n_leclerc I'm just waiting for when y/n is going to show up with a ring
ferrari_fan when I saw I got that dawg in me, best know I'm talking about Leo
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#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#formula one x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#Leo Leclerc#when I say I got that dawg in me#it's Leo#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 x reader
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Oscar saying”touch grass and find someone that will fuck you cause it sure as hell won’t be me” and also “in Vegas everyone of you that was rude WILL be going up to my sweet lovely beautiful smart girlfriend and you WILL be apologizing.”
Can you imagine if he ever finds out about the one that burned her with coffee? Oooff she’s done for
𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐩.𝟖𝟏
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1.2k words
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader
𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: blurb. part two to a prev. fic.
✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆゜omggg i wish i got to this lil addition sooner !!! i was sitting here like lowkey like, how out of pocket would oscar be after he learned that a delusional fan intentionally burned his girl??? but here’s how i think it would exactly go down! this starts pretty much directly after best i ever had ends, like post-bath sex and everything. ✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆゜
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your skin is warm, your muscles relaxed, and your legs feel unstable. the phantom weight of oscar resides between your legs from minutes past when he helped you ride him to an orgasm in the bath. to think that if you managed to convince him to break up with you, you’d never have the best sex of your life again.
you’re sitting on the countertop next to the sink, towel slipping down around your waist as oscar massages lotion into your brown skin, when you tell him that exact thought. he’s standing between your legs (his towel securely tucked around his tiny ass waist), wet hair curled on his forehead and he hums in dissent,
“there wasn’t a single time this past month where i even thought about breaking up with you.”
your breath catches at his words and there’s not an ounce of a lie in his tone. after the pampering events of tonight, you didn’t think you needed anymore reassurance that he’s not going anywhere but it’s incredibly nice to hear it. you pause trying to think of the word to express just how sweet oscar is, but he speaks before you.
“woah, wait a minute,” oscar’s brow is furrowed, gaze focused on the back of your left hand, where there’s a slightly inflamed patch of skin, “babe, did you burn yourself? when did this happen?”
he gently brushes his thumb over the spot to gauge how sore the spot is and frowns when you wince and slip your hand out of his grasp. you cradle your hand to your chest and shrug dismissively, “happened earlier t’day at the shop; some girl dumped her coffee on me.”
“what?” oscar stares at you, puzzled, “she purposefully dropped hot coffee on your hand?”
“mmm, well i can’t say that she did it ‘on purpose,’” you sigh, “but, she was wearing an oscar piastri mclaren hoodie and she did laugh about it with her friends afterwards.”
“you’re being serious? a fan dumped a literally burning hot cup of coffee on you,” oscar attempted to clarify, like he can’t believe it.
you miss how his expression is growing stormier and keep rambling on about your experience, “oh, i’m dead serious ‘roo. most of your fangirls have decided that i’m the spawn of satan because i can’t physically be by your side at all of your races. i mean–do they really think i would rather be learning about thermodynamics when i could be on the pitwall?”
“you know, at the end of the day i’m surprised at the fact that she had the balls to do it,” you continue (the aussie looks less impressed the more you keep talking), “highkey, i was getting sick and tired of all the girls who would come up and tell me i made their order wrong–when i most definitely did not!--and i had to remake their drink. so, props to her for changing it up on me, i was not expecting that.”
oscar rubs at his forehead for a few seconds before he purses his lips and cocks his head at the side to look at you, and then it dawns on you…maybe he doesn’t find this as amusing as you did.
“kanga, baby–she burned you. she intentionally harmed you, you could sue her, i think. you should sue her! i, personally, want to ruin her life,” oscar states, dead serious.
you shrug, “it’s not that serious to me. i’ll just put some ointment on it and it’ll be gone in a few weeks. and, she can be as jealous as she wants—you’re still here in between my legs, rubbing lotion into my skin after you just fucked me until my legs were jello. i really could not give a fuck about her, trust that.”
oscar grumbles unhappily, “well, i give a fuck. nobody should think that they can get away with hurting you, regardless of how serious the injury is. where’s the ointment?”
you lean forward, pressing kisses to oscar’s pout, “‘s in the medicine cabinet, ‘roo. if you want to address it, i won’t stop you, you can handle it how you like. as long as it doesn’t get you in trouble with the pr team, i’m fine with it.”
and that’s when you find out just how fine mclaren is with having oscar publicly call his fans crazy.
it’s race weekend in las vegas, and fp2 has been delayed. you were falling asleep on your feet in the garage, so oscar had tucked you into bed in his motorhome, letting you take a nap while he went to do some interviews.
he’s caught by ted kravitz from sky sports and the best opportunity that oscar has ever had falls directly into his lap.
“oscar! how are you feeling, mate?” ted starts, “you certainly had an interesting break leading up to this race, and, you’ve managed to take the world of formula one on another spin with your tweet defending your girlfriend—would you care to expand on that?”
oscar smiles, “i would love to talk about it actually.”
“oh,” ted looks baffled, looking at the camera in shock, before he gestures for oscar to speak.
“well. i stand by what i said,” oscar states, “if anybody thought i was being rude, i really don’t care. what i do find rude, however, is the fact that my girlfriend was being harassed at her job by people who call themselves my fans.”
“oh, mate, i thought you were being rather nice about the situation,” ted offers, “but, you’re saying fans have gone to lengths to ‘harass’ your lovely girlfriend in person?”
“unfortunately, i’m telling the truth. it got to a point where a fan was bold enough to burn her with boiling hot coffee.”
“no!” ted gasps, aghast.
“yes! as soon as she told me, i told her that she should press charges, but she didn’t want to. i guess she’s a lot nicer than me,” oscar scratches at his jaw.
“well, i’m pretty sure that’s at least an assault or injury claim right? i think that fan should be taught a lesson. it’s wild to think that someone who calls themselves a ‘fan’ would hurt one of the best WAG’s,” ted looks disgusted.
“yeah, well–i hope that woman knows the whole interaction was caught on camera and that my girlfriend is well within her rights to press charges. it would suck that an act you committed out of jealousy and envy has the chance to give you a lifelong criminal record, huh?” oscar’s eyes shine with a threatening twinkle, “i can’t imagine being so obsessed with a man you never had and never will have, and you proceed to take it out on his beautiful, intelligent, ambitious, loving, and extremely supportive girlfriend. it kind of seems…” he pauses for effect, searching for just the right word, “...desperate—doesn’t it, ted?”
“it seems absolutely demented, oscar.”
the clip hits three million views in four hours and trends for weeks.
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© httpsserene2023
#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x female reader#oscar piastri x black!reader#oscar piastri x you#lando norris x reader#logan sergeant x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x black!reader#f1 x you#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smut#oscar piastri smut#formula 1 x reader#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fic rec#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#formula 1 x black!reader#serene’s chapters.#⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1#♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: op.
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I Can See You - Live Action!Sanji x Reader
Saw a post about wanting a fic with Sanji and this song that @its-a-show-stoppin-number posted and I knew I wasn't gonna get anything done until I wrote this. I've never written anything like this before to be honest. I kinda word vomited in a sense. The story just exited my fingers and here it is.
Warnings: Suggestive, kissing, secret relationship, nothing explicit, only implied, objectification of Taz Skylar's jawline, like. Why’s it so fine. Like. Dear lord.
No use of y/n, or those weird descriptor things, reader is gender neutral. Reader is however you imagine them
Word Count: 1.5K
Main Masterlist
It wasn’t something you had seen coming. It wasn’t like you, to be honest.
But he was just so damn charming. How were you supposed to resist?
Sanji hadn’t been part of the crew for long. A few weeks at most. But you had been watching him from the moment the crew walked into the Baratie.
Tall. Strong. Nicely dressed. Polite. Respectful. Suave. Not to mention good looking. That jawline–in your defense, you HAD tried to ignore the blatant attraction.
Fleeting glances for almost a week, brushing past each other in the ship’s hallways. Fantasies filling your head. One specific dream of exchanging heated kisses in a dark corner had your mind racing whenever you were in the same room as the chef.
It was impossible to function properly.
Your job aboard the Going Merry was to document the events that occurred. Luffy thought it would be perfect to write down all of the adventures that would eventually lead to him becoming King of the Pirates.
And writing anything was impossible.
Blond hair and grey blue eyes kept your mind far too distracted.
So you decided to do something about it.
Especially since you had caught his eyes on you repeatedly throughout dinner.
So you took your time eating. A phrase which here means wasting your time until Luffy, Usopp, Zoro, and Nami had vacated the kitchen for the evening. Leaving you alone with Sanji.
As he stood to clear the dishes, your hand shot out, grabbing his sleeve and stopping him in his tracks.
You looked up into his eyes, your own wide with adrenaline.
"Please tell me it's not all in my head." You said softly. "If it is, I promise, it'll be like this never happened."
"And if I say it's not all in your head?" He murmured the words, the tension so thick someone could have cut it with a knife.
"Then I'd ask if you'd worry what the others thought. I'm not sure if relationships between crewmembers are allowed here. They weren't on my last crew. And I'm not too keen on asking Luffy if I'm entirely honest." You took a deep breath. "But I can't get you out of my head. It's like I'm addicted."
Sanji moved to rest his hands on either side of your chair, effectively caging you in. "So more like a secret mission. Just the two of us." He bit his lip and watched your eyes zero in on the action, a smirk spreading on his face instead.
You nodded, knowing you were in too deep to back out now.
Sanji continued, despite the fact that his eyes flicked down to your lips every few moments. "Everything professional, except when it's just the two of us."
You nodded again, your heart racing and palms sweating as the object of your desire leaned forward a little more, waiting for you to reach across that last gap separating the two of you.
Your eyes fluttered shut as that gap closed.
As your lips careened into the chef's, he exhaled heavily through his nose, pulling you up to stand and then closer so you were pressed to his chest, your hands flying to tangle in his hair.
The world around the two of you was a blur as you lost yourselves in each other. Clothes were shoved unceremoniously to the floor as you each tried to pull the other closer. You barely registered Sanji lifting you to sit on the kitchen counter, much less registering when the two of you had even moved from the table to the counter.
"You sure you want me sitting here?" You asked breathlessly, your newfound lover placing kisses down the length of your throat.
His laugh was husky against your throat. "It's a kitchen, darling. All the best meals happen in a kitchen."
That moment was the first of many. You had never regretted sharing a room with Nami more. While there were many kitchen escapades after that first one, the two of you still found a little thrill in having your secret.
You spent time talking as well. You learned about each other. Likes and dislikes, pasts, dreams of the future. Sanji told you about his childhood with Zeff and his quest for the All Blue. You told him of your dream to be a famous poet one day and of your life on the sea.
Something changed along those talking sessions. Something you liked. You wouldn’t call it a friends with benefits situation. You both knew it was something else, something deeper.
Those words were just waiting to be said.
You two would lock eyes at random moments throughout the days and his eyebrow would quirk and you'd look away.
Nights would be spent with each other, sometimes words weren’t even exchanged.
It was bliss.
One afternoon caught the two of you on the lower decks, encased by shadows. You had originally been working on writing down events in the logbook, but your lover had sought you out.
Sanji had you caged up against the wall, kissing you with a fervor. As if you were the last meal he'd ever receive.
He always kissed you like a starving man.
However, you heard Usopp's voice getting closer to your hiding spot, calling for Sanji, and the two of you quickly separated and righted yourselves.
He winked at you as you adjusted your skewed shirt. "You'll tell me more about how that dream of yours went later, right, darling?"
You smirked. "You wouldn't believe half the things I see inside my head."
Sanji grinned, unable to resist capturing your lips in another kiss before slowly pulling away and heading down the hallway.
Nami cornered you later that day.
"You've been hard to find lately." She stated.
You shrugged. "I've been hiding away trying to find a quiet place to work on the log." This was the go to excuse.
And Nami wasn't buying it. "It's been hard to find Sanji too."
Your eyes met her brown ones in questioning silence.
"I knew it." She muttered. "Sanji left his jacket on the floor in the hallway the other night. You do know we're not like other pirates, right? Nobody's gonna care if you two get together. 'Sides, pretty sure the only ones who haven't figured it out are Luffy and Usopp. But that's just a matter of time."
You were flabbergasted. "How in the--"
"You guys aren't very sneaky. Zorro found you two the other day. Plus the jacket."
Of course Zorro would find out first. But knowing that a relationship would be fine was also a relief to hear.
You had just finished telling Nami about your's and the chef's so-called "secret mission" when Sanji brought lunch around a few minutes later. When he got to you, he handed you your food and your logbook. "You left this in the kitchen." And with a wink he walked away.
"He's not even subtle about it." Nami stated.
You laughed. Sanji hadn't been subtle from the moment you met him at the Baratie. He had only stopped calling you 'madame' because you told him it made you feel old.
He had immediately switched to darling, being far too suave and charming for his own good.
You opened up your logbook. It had gotten easier to get back to your job lately. Apparently the dark hallway meetings and late night rendezvous worked perfectly in helping your focus.
You immediately noticed his note.
"Meet me tonight"
You snapped the notebook shut, grinning like a schoolgirl,and Nami only rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You two are the weirdest."
It was late when you began to make your way to the kitchen that night.
He must have been impatient, because you found him waiting down the hallway, still dressed in his suit and necktie.
You never knew blue could feel like fire, but his eyes were smoldering as they met yours. He had you up against the wall in moments, his lips on your own.
He never did anything halfway, it was all or nothing. That thought crossed your mind as you began to lose yourself in the way he kissed you. In the way it was tender and yet passionate. In the way he caught your lip with his own. In the way he would sort of nudge his jaw forward in little movements. In the way his tongue always seemed to ask permission by gently touching your own lips and leading you into deeper and deeper kisses.
You could drown in this man.
The words slipped out in between kisses before you could stop them.
"I love you."
But he just grinned. A smile so bright, were the sun out it would have felt threatened. Remarkably sweet for the heated exchange that had been occuring only seconds prior.
"I love you, too, darling."
And the heat was back. His hands, which had been holding you gently at your hips, slipped to lift you and press you harder into the wall as the passion returned.
Only to come to a screeching halt as someone cleared their throat.
Luffy stood a few feet away, struggling to mask his shock.
"While I'm happy for the two of you, maybe the hallways are not the best for such...activities?" he said.
You both nodded, mildly embarrassed to have been caught.
As your captain disappeared further down the hallway, a laugh bubbled out of you.
Sanji turned to look at you, bewildered.
Grabbing his hand, you led him away. "You heard our captain, gotta go somewhere other than a hallway."
Understanding spread across his face in the way of a knowing smirk. "I completely understand, darling."
I can see you, waiting down the hall for me, I can see you, up against the wall with me.
I can see you, throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you, make me want you even more
#opla sanji x reader#one piece live action x reader#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x reader#one piece x reader#opla#opla sanji#thismothwrites
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Hi, I saw your smut requests post and was wondering if you could write one about touch starved Gale finally being alone with reader/Tav and getting his satisfaction? (Yeah, I got inspired by your nsfw headcanons about him, how could you tell?) Please and thank you!
PS Can I be 🧀 anon?
What happened at the moon lit pond
Gale X Fem!Reader
Baldurs gate 3
It’s been, probably three years since I’ve written a full fanfic? I’ll admit I’m probably a little rusty. Thank y’all for hanging in, and I hope this fulfills our nerdy wizard boy needs. thank you so much 🧀 anon for the request! I hope you stay and request some more.
Important tags: lots of pining, some angst (no sad ending), smutty (male and female Masterbation, male giving female oral), spoilers for gales mid game story, romance, Gale is an anxious mess, The thought of gale brushing his hair from his face got me GOING 😩
Word count: 1.9k
(Part 1.5 HERE) (PART 2 HERE)
(Gale headcanons that inspired this here)
-
Gale didn’t know how to handle these new feelings for you. He makes a fool of himself everyday, it seems. He always offers you a slice of his bread, even if you gave your own, he saves some of his own morning coffee for you, since he wakes up earlier, and even warm it up for you with a spell.
He simply wanted you to like him. That would be all he needed, but anything else that may follow that would be a true blessing. Gale wanted nothing more than to make you laugh, to see your smile and know he was the reason why, to camp and be the first and last person you’d speak to before sleep.
Gale wouldn’t let his mind wander much past that, or he tried to not let it. The occasional dream would slip through where you were his, and he was yours. It simply put him in panic mode In the waking hours, trying to not be obvious, scared you’d find out, what exactly? He wasn’t sure. You were too kind to break his heart so effortlessly, like he feared you would.
Endless scenarios danced in gales head of rejection, humiliation, and what would happen if he let himself go, life he was tasked to do. It wouldn’t take much, to convince him to live. Friendship, a place to call home, even if it was ever moving. Company he could entrust his life to. It was all so appealing. Luring him into life, breathing a new passion into his purpose, one he’d lost many years ago, sometime when he was alone for so many years.
Those thoughts seemed to linger on forever, sweeping over his barely conscious brain to awaken him again, rustling him from what could be a good nights rest. Eventually, Gale decided to just get up and go for a walk.
Camp had been set up in one of the most beautiful places any of you had seen. Waterfalls tinted emerald green, sand fine and shimmering in the light, may it be sun or moon. I’m one of those waterfalls, he found you.
Waist deep in the pond. Skin and hair dripping wet, shining more than usual water would, adding a silver glow to the night. You looked better than a goddess could ever imagine, and still, his eyes never dipped below you shoulders, even though he deeply wanted to look lower. Instead, he stood there, looking like a fucking idiot, gods know how long. Maybe a tree branch snapped, or maybe you finally snapped out of your trance, but your head whipped in his direction, eyes darting across the small beach, only relaxing when you realize only gale stands before you.
“Oh, Gale, it’s just you…” you let out a deep, jagged breath, the anxiety flowing out of your body just as quickly as it racked through it.
“Just? Are you disappointed?” Gale smirked, although his heart raced in his chest, one word and he'd sulk back to camp, but gods he wanted to stay and spend the whole night with you under the stars.
“Far from it, really. I was just thinking about how much you’d enjoy this view if you were here” you tore your eyes away from Gale, focusing on the stars. “I thought it may remind you of waterdeep. You paint a very beautiful picture of home.”
“I can think of a few things much, much more beautiful than Waterdeep,” his voice low, raspier than usual. Easily explained away from the lack of sleep or old sleeping bags, not for what it really was. Deep yearning, wanting, needing.
“I’d love to see them someday, then.”
“We’ll just have to get you a mirror, then,” “All the beauty in the world would reflct
"Gale, I-" You finally looked into his eyes, he wore his heart on his sleeve, at least for a moment. Those puppy eyes, dark bust glistening in the full moonlight, his hair messy from turning in his sleep, he wanted you, in many more ways than one. Gale's emotions could never be that simple, of course.
"Well," you walked towards him, water inching lower and lower, revealing more and more of your body, yet gales eyes stayed on yours. "Why don't you join me for a swim. It's a beautiful night."
"an offer I could not refuse." Gale's face was plastered with that cocky smile, the one that could melt anyone into a puddle in seconds.
He might have been a gentleman and kept his eyes upwards, but you were not so much, Gale untied his robes, gods why were there so many damn layers? It was quite a sight, his little mannerisms that showed more of him to you than he had shown to you. He was nervous, his fingers missing the simple ties frequently, he got annoyed by his hair getting in his eyes, a grimace appearing before he swept his hair behind his ear.
Your eyes lingered on his circle smoke tattoo, his toned arms, his downright massive hands. he was more tan than you realized, To be fair, he's always covered in those loose robes, leaving you to wonder what was underneath. You were more than happy to finally be finding out. But not below the waist.
"Isn't it a bit cold to be this naked?"
"The water is warmer than the air, I promise." You extended a hand out to Gale, even though he was feet away from you. "Come on, Gale from Waterdeep being afraid of some cold water? Sounds redundant."
"You got me there." He finally stepped into the glimmering pond surrounded by rocks and sand, enough to have your own little corner, to lessen the echo if it was needed. The whole camp didn't need to know all of your business. It must've been a magical lake, as both you and Gale noted separately. Unnaturally still, even when you moved freely, small glowing lights pooled at your sides, occasionally bubbling into the air once you leaned against a large, bright rock.
"May I ask what you were doing out here at this hour?" Gale spoke, still much further away from you than he wanted to be,
"Can I not take a mid-night swim?" You raised your brows in a questioning glance his way "A woman needs time to herself. These days and nights have been very stressful."
Gales very audible oh, slipped through the silence. "You don't have to relax alone." His eyes finally gave in to the need, scanning your body with a low moan slipping past his lips. His excitement was immediate, brushing against your lower stomach all the way past your navel.
"You've wanted this." You stated, brushing your hand against his thigh.
"There's plenty of magic around us, I want the Gale right in front of me." You dared to inch even closer, his thigh fully slipping between yours, inches away from touching your pussy. His hands floated inches from your waist, "Let me give you everything"
"Give me everything" With that, Gale's hand grabbed your waist, gently guiding you onto his thigh, motioning your hips down and swaying only him. The sensation sent sparks flying through his body, you were right in front of him, completely bare and rocking with pleasure onto him. Better than any dream he'd thought up, any fantasy that ran through his head even at the most inappropriate of times. Yes even during the throws of battle. Even in hard times like that, he was so drawn to you.
Gales other hand came up to your jawline, tilting your head so he could latch his mouth around your neck. Deep marks left behind while he inches his way in hickeys up your neck, jaw, and finally to your lips. Any semblance of anonymity flew out the window, not a single person could miss what he gave you, artfully placed dark spots painting your skin. "I have never seen such a beautiful being in my life"
"I could say the same about you gale," You said betwixt breathy moans, picking up the pace of your grinding hips against his thigh, his hand on your waist moving between a tight grip on your ass, and a light but so effective caress of your clit. Every time you got so close, his fingers moved, he was teasing you. His cocky smirk felt even through his kiss.
"I want you to come on my mouth." As if he was reading your slightly frustrated thoughts, "I want to taste you in my dreams."
All you could manage was a frantic nod, a mumbled yes, and shakily hoisting yourself up onto a rock that was perfect for gales pretty head to be between your thighs. Gale pushed your thighs apart with one hand, which stayed firmly grabbing onto you. The other sneaked up your thigh, tracing patterns along your skin. "Gale, please," you whispered out of pure desperation. The only warmth coming from your feet still in the water, otherwise your skin exposed to the biting air.
"All you had to do was ask, my lady" Gales fingers easily slid into you, curling up and pumping in and out, while he leaned into your pussy, maintaining eye contact as he placed one kiss just to the right of where you needed him to be. All he needed was to be touched, to touch you. Your legs wrapped around him to get Gale even closer, urging him closer.
"Touch yourself" Barely a whisper, but Gale caught it, and certainly didn't need to be told twice. Secretly, he could cum from this alone, your taste, how soft you were, how loud you could get. It was more than enough to orgasm right there with you, however, that is not exactly how he wanted your first sexual experience to go. His hand clutching your thigh came to his cock, rubbing much faster and harder than he was fingering you. he was eager. He wanted this to last forever, he wanted you to cum again and again and again into his mouth. He wanted his face even more dripping from your juices.
"Gale I can't hold it-" You nearly screamed, his tongue swirling and sucking, lightly biting, it was almost too much. Then, he moaned. A loud, deep moan and that was it. Vibrations running through your body from his mouth. there noise that left your mouth could've been heard across Baldurs gate, you silently thanked this magical pound for being so secluded, as you would be borderline embarrassed if people heard. Gales didn't come back up for hair until he was sure you were finished, getting every last drop of you.
"You certainly are loud" Gales tone was so smug it almost made you laugh. You gripped onto his shoulders as he swept you down from the perch, pressing his whole body to yours. After all that, after her definitely came, he was still so hard, and so pressed against you that you couldn't help but gasp. "I want to hear that again."
"Hear what, exactly?" you teased, lifting a finger to trace his chest.
"To hear you cum," his lips dipped down to your ear, slightly nibbling on it, before he rasped "and to feel you on my cock."
-
Part two, here
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