#i would happily listen to what he has to say
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fifteen hundred and one
frankie morales x f!reader | frankie masterlist
summary: he's your best friend. nothing would ever change that. except maybe a goodnight kiss.
warnings: just fluff. best friends who flirt to something. kissing. flirting. she calls frankie nemo.
an: this is my submission for @janaispunk’s milestone celebration based on this moodboard and the prompt "goodnight kiss"! hugest and biggest congrats to you jana, my babe. you deserve all of this and more!
Laughing, hard. It’s all instinctive as one palm stretches out across his stomach, and the other arm hooks around you, tugging you close.
He tenses when your fingers brush over his threadbare tee, your head turning into him as you mirror him, giggling. Burying deep into the fabric, it seeps into his skin.
And all Frankie thinks is—
It’s easy with you.
Has been for years. Since you’d stumbled in as the friend of one of his friends girl-not-girl, sticking around longer than they did.
You'd glued to him, happily. Never minding, or caring. Somehow surprised at how simple it was going from ‘do you want a drink’ to resting your head on his shoulder, while the two of you absently listened to whatever bullshit Benny was saying.
Now, he looks forward to seeing you.
To late-night burger runs and early-morning coffee meets, quiz nights with the others and just the two of you movie trips.
At some point, between his tongue doubling in his head at the sight of you that night to now, he’s been resisting kissing you. Sometimes easy, sometimes it’s harder.
Tonight it’s the latter.
A hand clenched around his heart, squeezing. Beneath the moon's gentle gaze, the world slows, each laugh and comment infused with the spell of the silvery glow. It's intimate, almost sacred.
And it forces him to remind himself of the usual array of things that stop him from kissing the wit-induced smile right from your lips. The list he runs through to ensure he doesn't ruin you, in the same way, he'd almost destroyed his license, his job. Stopping himself from tasting the gloss you’ve smeared there, the one which makes street lamps reflect as the two of you walk back to his truck.
“—so even if I scratched your favourite vinyl, you’d still be friends with me?”
Opening the passenger side door, he smiles, gleams, fucking beams. “Yeah!”
He hears you mutter bullshit when he shuts it, fighting a laugh as he comes around the back before sliding in.
It’s not a far drive to yours. One he’s memorised, etched into him. Not just from tonight’s location, but all over town. From his to work, and your favourite spot to his. Able to drive, mainly on auto-pilot, not needing to concentrate too much, able to answer your wild, and ridiculous, array of “even if” questions. Each ranged from ‘if I burnt all your grass’ to, ‘hypothetically if you had a dog and I kicked it’. Each is smudged with the sound of the radio you've tuned, a station he won't admit he listens to when you're not even with him.
You don’t stop your questioning when he pulls onto your drive, parking side by side next to your car. The one he helped you haggle for three months ago now—if he thinks hard, he can still hear the sound of your squeal in gratitude in the furthest part of his ear.
“—what if I stole your last coffee filter?”
“I’m guessing I’m desperate for it too?”
“Yes,” you say, defiant but playfully. “Of course.”
“You’re telling me that if I stole your last coffee filter, you’d still be my friend?”
Killing the engine, he sighs. Shrugging. “Yeah.”
Unbuckling your belt, you throw a glare. “I don’t believe you. You’re more coffee than blood.”
Shaking his head, he rests against the headrest, the corner of his lips growing into his cheek. “Not a thing you could do that would make me ever want to not be your friend.”
Rolling your eyes, you hover your hand over the doorhandle. A part of him wants to ask you to wait, to not go just yet. A routine he thinks through at least three times a month when he sees you. Each time ending in the same cowardly way.
“Goodnight, Frank,” you say, in that same tone—one hard to read, forged in sadness but dressed up in joy—as you press your lips to his cheek.
He resists touching it like he always does. Mumbling the same scripted, “Night” he always does.
Not jolting when the door meets the frame, eyes pinned on you as you walk down your path—waiting for you to step on your porch, turn back and wave, fidget for your keys before unlocking the door and giving him another wave. Another pattern, another repetition.
Except tonight you stop.
You don’t even make it halfway down your path.
Blood pounds in his ears, something knotting inside of him. An urge, a fire lighting in his stomach. One he listens to. His hand shoves the door open, as the other undoes his belt, forcing himself to exit.
Frankie spots the glance in surprise at finding him coming around the front to join you. As though the idea he would is a shock, a surprise as he calls your name.
It’s slow, the way you spin on your heels. You pause, eyes narrowing, before widening, fighting a smile. A thing he can tell, can read. Even if you try to hide it in the night, shield it from the almost full moon and the stars which twinkle above.
“You think you’d be able to be my friend if I kissed you, Nemo?”
Leaning against the brick of your house, watching your eyes flick from his shoes back to his face.
“Finally ran out of cat names?”
“I’m branching out. I could go back to calling you Salem.”
Smirking, rolling his lips. “Still not a fish.”
Sighing, shifting your weight. “Didn’t answer my question.”
Wiping his hand with his face, hurrying his brain to think of something, anything, because he’s not sure if this is a joke. If you’re pushing him.
But the longer the silence thickens, the more time you stare at him, eyes growing wider and wider, he thinks that it might not be his heart that is the only one pounding. The only one beating in his ears, the pulse throbbing in his neck.
“Fran—”
“No,” he stammers, clearing his throat. “I–I’d be too busy.”
Lips sliding into your cheek, nervousness fading, fingers scratching the tip of your nose as he swears a shooting star soars in your eyes. “Doing what?”
“Kissing you fifteen hundred times.”
“Just fifteen hundred?”
Shrugging, chewing his tongue, he exhales—loud, nostrils flaring. “To start.”
Taking a step closer, a timid one. Enough to make a point, but not enough to close the gap entirely. Your knuckles brush his stomach, a blend between a stroke and a nudge.
“You’ve thought about this.”
A small part—one wrapped in vines of doubt, encased in pretending—warns him to clamp his mouth shut. To swallow the syllables and forms letters that make the sentence buzz in his mouth, along his teeth, and jaw.
Flicking his eyes from the floor to your face. “All the time, baby.”
He hears it, but he enjoys watching it more, the way you gasp. Low, airy, trying to bury it.
“Give me a goodnight kiss, Morales.”
He doesn’t think twice.
Brushing his lips against yours, soft, cautious, and tender, before it deepens. It makes his heart throb, double; it almost somersaults in his chest as your palm presses to his cheek, fingers sliding into his hair as one of his hands finds a home on your waist.
Then you’re smiling, almost laughing, right up against his mouth as he tastes the sugar on your lips. He feels the joy brushing against his mouth as your fingers knot into his hair.
And it unlocks him, allows you to consume him, to find himself free falling knowing he'll never land, fall or be hurt—just floating, as you tug him flush to you, a feeling so heavenly he almost wishes to pinch himself—
“Of course, you’re a good kisser,” you whisper, ghosting the words over his lips.
“Been thinking about it, have you?”
Snorting, nose nudging his, you press your mouth back to his, more searing, open-mouthed. “When I drive. At work. In the morning. At night.”
Each is punctuated with a kiss. The latter flows around his head, swirling in different shades and fonts as he groans, fingers sliding around the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. Making it a little rougher, more committed, feeling you cling to him, tugging him closer as he manoeuvres the two of you—flushing your back to the brick, his chest to yours.
A moan escapes you, tickling his lower lip as your thumb brushes along the back of his neck. Mouths parting, for a moment breathing the other, simply staring, gazing, ogling.
“Fourteen hundred and ninety-nine to go?”
Shaking his head, nose brushing yours, thumb stroking against your cheek. “This is a goodnight kiss—a necessity to begin the counter.”
“Oh,” you whisper, elongating it, adding a smirk to the end. “So, we have another fifteen hundred and then, we stop?”
Taking a deep breath, the scent of your perfume weaving into his soul. The sound of a car streets away travelling in the quiet of the night.
“Depends.” Tilting your head, waiting, confusion there. “You might unlock the next stage.”
Grinning against him, able to feel it as he runs his knuckles along your jaw.
“Or my lips fall off?”
Laughing, just like he did earlier. He smiles. “Or your lips fall off.”
#frankie morales fluff#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#francisco morales x reader#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier#frankie morales x reader fluff#francisco morales x reader fluff#frankie morales x f!reader#francisco morales x f!reader
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sienna — jeong yunho
pairing : yunho x gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : fluff, little bit of angst ➖⟢ cw : not proofread/edited, kissing, mentions of exhaustion and stress ➖⟢ wc : 1K ➖⟢ rating : pg-13 .. listen to sienna by the marías ! for you @megumisthv tysm for sending all the atz reqs i'll do my best to get to as many as i can!! <33
yunho has trouble opening up. he’s a sweet, sunshiney guy and he’s not one to get very emotional around others. he thinks he’s supposed to be smiling all the time, and that he’s the one who should be comforting others. and it’s not that big of a deal, he tells himself. he’s just so, so exhausted, and it’s starting to get to him. on top of that, he really, really misses you.
when you hug him, you feel it, the way he melts into your arms and can’t seem to peel himself away from your embrace.
it’s been weeks since you’ve seen each other, both of you so busy, him even more so with his hectic style of life.
“hey, love,” you mumble into the fabric of his jacket. “miss me, huh?” all he does is nod. “i missed you, too, yun.” you feel the smile on your face turn a little sad, full of affection for him, because you can feel all of the tension in his body as he keeps you close. it’s a little awkward, because you’re standing in the doorway of his apartment, but you happily let him take what he needs.
when he finally pulls away, your heart breaks to see the subtle mist of tears in his pretty, pretty eyes.
“hey,” you say all soft, “grab me an extra sweatshirt and let’s go sit on the roof, yeah? we should be able to catch the sunset.”
“okay,” he agrees with a half smile. there’s a few sweatshirts hung up by the door, so he grabs the nearest one that's his and his smile grows a little more as he refuses to give it to you. instead, he bunches the fabric up in his hands and holds it up like he’s going to put it on for you. you laugh a little, but don’t protest.
already, you know you’ll let him do whatever he wants tonight. with that, his hands are over your head and he’s tugging the garment down until he can see your face again. when you feel the fabric fall down past your chin, you open your eyes to see yunho leaning in close, his nose mere centimeters away from your own. you giggle, and the gentle sound knocks whole tons of pressure off yunho’s shoulders. he smiles, all genuine this time, then presses a sweet kiss to your lips. you feel the soft exhale from his nose as he parts from you and tugs the bottom of the sweatshirt down for you to put your arms through the sleeves.
yunho’s about to turn to close the door and walk out with you, but you grab his hand to stop him.
“get yourself a jacket, too. it’s cold out.”
“right,” he smiles sheepishly as he lets his hand slip from yours for just a moment to grab another layer for himself. then, his hand is back in yours and the door clicks shut.
once on the roof, yunho’s hand shifts to your waist to pull you closer. you grab his hand and tuck it into your sweatshirt pocket, and now you’re so close to each other that your walking is more like a waddle. but neither of you could care about that, all you can think about is having the other near and keeping warm from the bitter bite of the chilly rooftop wind.
you sit on the bench that faces the sunset, and yunho’s head immediately finds its way to your shoulder. your eyes drift closed for a soft moment as you relish the feeling of him so close and comfortable, the brush of his hair against your jaw and his arm wrapped around you tight.
he sighs heavy and you open your eyes again, grabbing his other hand and placing it on your knee, keeping your own hand over his to rub your thumb over his knuckles.
you bite the inside of your cheek in contemplation, wondering whether you should ask what’s bothering him or wait for him to speak up about it on his own. in the meantime, you figure that watching the sky turn different colors is enough. a few minutes later, and it would have been too late to see the sun set, but now it’s hovering over the horizon, reaching for the tops of buildings in the distance and highlighting the bright orange of fall trees.
you let the time pass slowly, let yunho stay silent and burrow into your side as the sun sinks every so softly into the darkening line of the horizon. if you were to crane your neck and look up, you’d see the darkness of autumn night creeping up on you, but you instead take in the orange, pink, purple, and baby blue of the fading daylight.
only when it’s dark, colder than ever, and the automatic night lights of the roof reveal the puffs of your breathing that come out foggy, does yunho speak.
“i’m so tired,” he whispers, finally letting the words tumble out into the open night air. with a sigh of your own, you squeeze his hand in yours.
“i know,” you sympathize with your brows pulled tight in worry. “let me do everything for you tonight, will you?”
this time, his sigh is one of relief. you don’t let any pity slip into your voice, just love and genuine care. you understand him and you present him with the little things that you can do for him, and he couldn’t be more grateful for that.
“thank you,” he breathes out. “let’s go inside, it’s cold.” you hum in agreement, but let him keep sitting there when he doesn’t get up right away. when he wants, he’ll stand, and you’re more than happy to bear through the cold for a minute longer if it means doing things at his pace.
when he stands, you stay right with him, stuck to his side as you make your way to warmer air.
#yunho#yunho x reader#yunho scenarios#ateez yunho scenarios#ateez yunho#yunho fluff#yunho fanfic#ateez fic#ateez fluff#jeong yunho#ateez jeong yunho#ateez reactions#ateez oneshot#ateez x reader#ateez x gender neutral reader#yunho x gn reader#yunho imagines
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The Fated Apple: Part Three
Pairings: Loki x Reader
Warnings: Language
Summary: You have questions. Loki has feelings. You have questions about Loki’s feelings…
A/N: I am overwhelmed by everyone’s responses. Thank you again for reading, I’m having so much fun with this one. Part four was almost done but then I did some editing and rewrites to part three and it changed a few things. I’m hoping by tonight or tomorrow I will also have part four ready to go. Thank you all again! Enjoy your💚
Part One
Part Two
The following morning you go to breakfast in the main hall. You see Jane already sitting with the royal family and see and empty chair next to her. Once she sees you she waves you down.
“Y/n! Come sit!”, Jane says happily.
You smile and walk up to the empty chair. Before you sit you politely greet everyone at the table. Loki just gives you a slight nod. It’s almost like he’s refusing to look you in the eye.
“What are your plans today y/n? Thor is taking me to the observatory so Heimdall can show me a few constellations I have not seen yet.”
“I’m actually meeting a friend.”
She looks at you suspiciously, “a friend, who?”
You nod as you start filling your plate, “I met a wonderful lady yesterday. She taught me how to paint some flowers.”
Jane’s eyebrows raise, “you?…you painted something?”
You roll your eyes, “I didn’t say it was a great painting. But it was peaceful and she was very nice and easy to talk to. I enjoyed my time with her very much.”
Unbeknownst to you, Loki was smiling into his goblet. He places it down after taking a long sip. “And what is this mystery lady teaching you today?”
You look over to Loki to respond but again he is not actually looking at you, “umm…I’m not sure actually. Maybe some more painting, I really had a great time yesterday.”
Loki takes note, nods and moves on with eating his meal.
“I’m glad you’re keeping busy. If you want to come with Thor and I to the observatory you’re more than welcome.”, Jane offers.
Once again, Loki listens closely but does not look toward you having your conversation with Jane. He doesn’t move his gaze off the plate in front of him.
You notice his body language and can’t help but feel he is purposefully trying to avoid your gaze. “Thanks but I’m looking forward to meeting up with Ana.”
Jane smiles.
So does Loki.
Frigga being Frigga is watching her son like a hawk. She has seen his every reaction to your conversation with Jane and knowing her son he is definitely up to something.
When you’re done with your breakfast you leave to make your way to meet Ana. When you get there you see her standing in the middle of the empty room.
Loki, disguised as Ana greets you, “hello y/n. How are you today?”
You smile at Ana, “I’m great thank you. How are you?”
Ana smiles, “I’m well. What would you like to do today?”
“I would like to paint again if you wouldn’t mind. I had such a great time yesterday.”
“Of course, anything in particular you would like to paint?”
You shake your head, you honestly had no idea. You never bothered painting at home so you never really thought about it.
Ana smiles brightly, “how about….Yddrasil?”
“Yddrasil, the world tree?”
“Yes. The great tree of life.”, she confirms.
“I’ve read about it, it’s the connection between all of the realms…Asgard…Midgard…Vanaheim…Jotunheim…Nilfheim…Muspelheim…Helheim and…umm…dang what was that last one? Don’t tell me! Don’t tell me!”
Loki is amused by your attempt to recall a history you had only learned of because of your visits to Asgard. He found it endearing that you would try to learn the history, you were under no obligation to but you clearly enjoyed learning new things. Something that you and Loki have in common.
“Sva….Svar…Svartalfheim!”
Ana giggles, “well done!”
Loki couldn’t help but feel a little pride, he was proud…of you.
You nod, “thank you my lady! So how do we paint this amazing tree?”
Ana smiles at you, “I’ll show you.”
*********************************************************
“Well? What do you think?”, you show Ana your attempt. It looked kind of like a tree. Definitely nothing like Yddrasil though.
Loki is trying his hardest not to laugh. He’s afraid if he starts he won’t be able to stop and it will break his illusion of Ana. So he collects himself and responds.
“It’s…definitely a tree…”
“It’s awful.”, you say with a bark of laughter.
“It’s not awful…it’s just not…”
“Oh come on! It looks like a child painted this.”
“Don’t insult children. It’s unbecoming of a future princess.”, Ana says jokingly.
You respond with a bark of laughter. “Yea sure a princess. I doubt that.”
“Why such doubt? The Norns have deemed your union so yes?”
You nod, “yes but…how can I spend eternity with someone I don’t even know.”
“Well. What do you wish to know about him?”
You take a second and think about her question and the answer is simple, “everything. I want to know what he likes to eat, what he likes to do during his spare time. What type of books he likes to read. I already know his favorite color, the man wears it enough.”
Loki almost lost himself to start defending his choice of color for his clothing but he caught himself before he can give himself away.
“I’m a sure you can learn all of those things by simply asking him yes?”
“Sure, if he would actually talk to me. I almost died of shock when he asked me about what I was going to be doing with you today. Keep in mind he won’t even look at me while he’s talking to me so..”
“Do you want him to talk more to you?”
You take a moment to answer and Loki isn’t sure why he’s nervous to hear what your answer is.
“I think so. I mean, from what everyone keeps telling me there’s no getting out of this so I might as well try right?”
Loki takes a deep breath, getting ready to be vulnerable for the first time in a very long time.
Ana takes your hand, “as long as I have been here Prince Loki has kept to himself. Usually skulking somewhere in the palace getting into mischief. But always alone. Whenever I would see him with his brother, Sif and the Warriors Three he always looked like he was looking for a way to escape. Usually to go find a book in the library or perhaps learn a new spell from the Queen. Besides her, I truly don’t believe he has had anyone in his life that understands him.”
“That’s so sad.”
Loki needs to reign in his emotions or you’re certainly going to figure out Ana is not who she says she is.
“Yes. That is really all I know about the prince and all of it I learned from afar.”
You nod, “Jane says I should try. Maybe he just hasn’t had anyone in his life that has actually tried for him.”
Loki looks deep into your eyes, “no. No I don’t believe anyone truly has.”
You and Ana lock eyes, the green in her eyes and the emotion behind them holding your gaze hostage. Why would someone who has never met Loki have such a strong emotion about him?
You got so lost in thought you don’t notice Frigga walking through the door.
“Here you are Lady y/n.”
You and Ana rise and both curtsy to the queen.
“And this is your friend, Ana? Is that right?”
Your brow furrows in confusion, “yes. I thought you two would have met since Ana uses this place so often.”
Frigga looks over at Ana again, “of course! Forgive me Lady Ana! There is so much going on lately I can’t keep my head on straight.”
Loki knew he was caught in that moment.
Fuck.
“It’s lovely to see you again your majesty.”
“Yes it is.” Frigga turns her attention back to you. “Lady y/n, I have the royal seamstress waiting for you in your chambers. I hope you are planning on extending your visit under the circumstances.”
Your eyes widen, “I hadn’t thought of that actually. I’ll have to figure out how to tell my job I’m not going to be back for a little while longer.”
“I believe Heimdall can help you with that. I will send word to him and he will let you know what he can arrange.”
You smile, “thank you my Queen.”
“Call me Frigga my dear. Now I hate to cut your visit short but Lady Tayla is waiting for you.”
“It’s ok I’m sure Ana is done being tortured by my art work for one day.”
Ana smiles at you, “we’ll practice more tomorrow.”
You nod and head out the door.
Loki, still in his illusion tries to make a swift exit himself. “Well your majesty, I must be off as well. It was an honor to see you again.”
Before he can step foot out the door, “a moment….Lady Ana….”
Shit.
Loki turns around, “yes, your majesty?”
Frigga walks closer, using her seidr to close the door and force Loki’s illusion to drop.
She looks at him with a disappointed stare, “Loki..explain yourself.”
“I truly did not mean to trick her mother. She stumbled across this room while I was getting ready to paint in peace. I had already cast the illusion so when someone came looking for me they wouldn’t know it was me.”
“Why didn’t you tell her the truth then? Why drag this out? To embarrass her?”
“No mother, I promise you that was not my intention.”
“Then what is you intention?”
“To get to know her. The real her.”
“You could’ve gotten to know her as yourself my son.”
He closes his eyes, “I know…I just…I was..”
“You were what?”
“I was afraid she wouldn’t want to get to know me. Yesterday when she walked in, I had a true conversation with her…I watched her learn and have fun while doing so…saw her smile. Mother it made me feel things I have told myself countless times I would never feel. And today? Today was…. wonderful.”
Frigga looks at Loki sadly.
“My son. You cannot continue this lie. I cannot allow you to deceive her so. You must tell her the truth. Tell her the way you told me, surely she will understand.”
“She will be angry with me for taking away her friend. Angry with me for deceiving her.”
“She might be angry at first yes but my son you cannot build the foundation of your relationship with a lie. She deserves better.”
Loki nods, “you’re right mother. I will tell her. Tomorrow when she comes here to meet with Ana.”
“Alright.” She pulls Loki into her arms for a tight hug. “I love you Loki.”
“I love you too mother.”
*********************************************************
Lady Tayla showed you a few designs she had in mind for gowns. You told her that you were only planning on staying for about 2 weeks. Even if you decide to try and work something out with Loki you still have responsibilities back on Earth.
For tonight’s feast Lady Tayla put you in a gown that was light and flowy. A pretty yellow this time with matching hair adornments and your makeup was done subtlety. Just the way you like it.
Jane walks into your room going on and on about what Heimdall showed her. You were happy your sister wasn’t so depressed about her relationship ending with Thor that she couldn’t enjoy the rest of her time here.
“Have you talked to Loki at all today?”, Jane asks you.
“Just this morning at breakfast.”
“Maybe he’ll talk to you tonight.”
“Or maybe he'll ignore me like he usually does.” You take a deep breath, “I don’t know Jane. I talked to Ana today and she made it seem like Loki is lonely, but from what I can tell it’s self inflicted.”
Jane nods, “well he is very different from Thor and everyone else. Maybe he just hasn’t found anyone he can truly connect with.”
“That’s what I was saying to Ana. Maybe I should..I don’t know…try just being his friend first and then…see where it goes?”
“Baby steps sis. There’s no need to rush things when realistically you have like 5,000 years.”
You nod knowing she’s right.
You both walk arm in arm to the feast hall where it is already loud from chatter and music. You and Jane spot Thor and Sif sitting with the Warriors Three.
“Hello everyone!”, Jane greets. You wave at the group.
“Ah Lady Jane, Lady y/n! Please, join us!”, Fandral requests boisterously.
You sit down next to Fandral while Jane sits next to Sif.
“So, Lady y/n. Tell us. How are things going with our gloomy second prince?”, Fandral asks clearly drunk.
“Um. Nothing new to report honestly. We haven’t spoken much since the ritual.”
“Ah yes, he does keep to himself doesn’t he? I am truly sorry the Norns chose someone so surly for you.”
“I don’t know if I would call Loki surly.”, your feeling of needing to defend Loki growing since your conversation with Ana.
“Oh? And how would you describe him then?”, Fandral asks.
You take a moment to think before you answer, “I’m not sure honestly, I don’t know him that well. A loner maybe?”
“A loner?”, Fandral asks confused.
“Yes, a person that prefers their own company.”, you explain.
“Yes, well that does sound like Loki. I on the other hand love company. Would you like to accompany me for a walk my lady?”, Fandral asks you.
“Um. Yea sure.”, he offers you his hand to help you stand and you both make your way to one of the balcony’s.
Loki sees you from afar and feels the hot feeling of jealousy rip through his body. He decides to follow you both outside, covering himself in an illusion obviously.
You lean against the banister when you and Fandral get outside. You’re taken aback by how beautiful the garden is at night you almost forget someone was there with you.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Fandral asks.
You nod, “it really is.”
“Tell me my lady. What is it you plan on doing with your situation?”
“Well..I’m probably going to try and get to know Loki a little bit better before I make my decision.”
“Yes of course. I must say my lady you are…stunning.”
You step slightly away from Fandral, “thank you, that’s very kind.”
“You are most welcome. I doubt Loki will say such things to you.”
“I beg your pardon?”, feeling the irritation with this man rise and rise.
“I only mean that Loki does not say kind things to anyone. Well, maybe Frigga but honestly I have never seen or heard him pay a kind word to anyone else. You deserve someone who will treat you with care and kindness.”
Upon hearing Fandral, Loki decided he didn’t want to stay to hear the rest. He didn’t need to hear you say you knew how little affection he would show you as his wife. What a failure he would be. So before he could hear those words fall from your mouth he left.
“Fandral, I appreciate your concern and your advice but I think I’ll decide for myself what kind of person Loki is.”
“Then I wish you good luck my lady. You’re going to need it.” Fandral walks back into the feast, so drunk he can barely walk in a straight line.
“You know as drunk as he is. He’s right.”
You look over and see an older man staring out into the garden.
“I’m sorry. Who are you?”
“I am Lord Alarian. One of the Allfather’s high councilmen.”
“Well Lord Alarian, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but I prefer to learn what type of person Loki is myself and to be honest I’m getting really sick of people trying to convince me he’s a bad one.”
You turn to leave but the councilman is quick to grab your wrist, “you know as well as I do this union is a mistake.”
You rip your arm from his grip, “I thought the Norns didn’t make mistakes.”
“Oh they make plenty of them. One of the biggest was bringing that boy into this world. Even with all of his flaws another realm was willing to give one of their daughters to him as a match. To make Asgard stronger. And then this damned ritual ruined it all.”
“Well I’m sorry I ruined your plans for world domination. Now if you don’t mind, I believe my sister and Prince Thor are expecting me.”
You don’t give the creep the opportunity to approach you again. You make a mad dash for your seat next to Jane but Loki stops you in your tracks.
“Had enough male suitors for the evening my lady?”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh you are excused indeed, it would be a terrible shame if I kept you from all of your admirers.”
“Spying on me were you?”, you ask. You grab your wrist, feeling a bit of discomfort from where the councilman grabbed you.
“Not spying…just…observing..”, Loki sees you grab at your wrist. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine Loki. It’s not like you care for my wellbeing anyway.”, you immediately feel guilty after you said it. Here you are telling everyone that asks about your feelings towards Loki you want to give him a chance and get to know him but one of the few times you interact with him you say horrible things.
“I care if someone has hurt you, let me see.” He doesn’t give you the opportunity to deny him, he takes your hand in his and inspects your wrist.
It’s starting to swell slightly and you can already see the beginning of a bruise forming.
“Who did this? Was in Fandral? I’ll gut him like the pig he is.”
Loki turns to go and find Fandral but you stop him, “Fandral didn’t do this Loki. Don’t worry about it it’s fine.”
“It is not fine.”
“I just need to ice it. It will be better by morning.”
Loki looks down at you, your hand still in his. “Come.”
He gently pulls on your arm so you can walk with him out of the feast hall. He then leads you to a place you have never been before since your started visiting Asgard. His rooms.
He opens the doors and it is as grand as you thought it would be. Green and gold everywhere of course.
He takes you over to the massive sitting area and walks you over to his enormous couch. You sit down and he sits down next to you, your wrist still in his hand.
“Loki really I’m fine, all I need is some ice.”
You suddenly feel a cold sensation on your wrist. When you look down at it you see Loki’s hand has turned a beautiful shade of blue.
“Does that feel better?”, he asks softly.
You nod, “a little yea. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He suddenly stands and walks over to a different room. When he comes back he has a small vial in his hand.
He sits next to you again and motions for you to give your hand back to him. He opens the vial and pours a drop of its contents on your wrist. He rubs it in gently, his hand turning blue again.
“That will help with the bruising. The cold will help with most of the pain and swelling, I cannot imagine you want me to hold on to your hand longer than what I already have.”, his skin starts to change and he releases your hand as soon as the icy blue was completely gone.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did. The Goddess Idunn said it herself, you are mine to protect and care for. No matter what any of us feel about our situation, nothing will change that.”
You stare into each others eyes for a moment until Loki breaks the connection.
“Well, I imagine you want to get back to the feast. Your wrist should be completely healed by tomorrow morning, just in time for your painting lessons.”, he smiles. A genuine, adorably shy smile.
He knows he should come clean now but he is enjoying this moment of closeness with you. He doesn’t want to ruin it.
“I think I’ve plateaued when it comes to my artistic abilities.”, you laugh thinking about your time earlier with Ana.
Loki pats your knee, “don’t be too hard on yourself.”
You look at him again and you can’t help but stare in his eyes. They are so…green…they look so…familiar. Then it hits you…Ana has the same color eyes..
“What are your plans tomorrow?”, you ask him suddenly.
“Umm. Nothing of importance. A council meeting in the morning and then I will be available for the rest of the day.”
“You should come by Ana’s workshop after your meeting!”, you say excitedly. If your suspicions were correct, Ana and Loki being in the same room might clear up some things.
Loki feels sudden panic. He could always cast a double of himself but that type magic was incredibly draining. It seems like you were not going to take no for an answer and to be honest he wasn’t sure he even wanted to deny you. You looked so excited about the prospect of him meeting your new friend. He felt terrible that tomorrow he was going to take her away from you.
“I would like that very much.”, he smiles at you.
You can tell you caught him off guard and you can’t help but feel a little proud at yourself for throwing him off a little. You just had a feeling and you had to be sure before you go accusing him of anything.
“Are you going back to the feast?”, you ask him as you stand to leave.
He shakes his head, “no I think I will retire for the evening.”
He walks you to the door and instructs the guard on the other side to escort you back to the feast hall.
Before you leave, Loki takes your hand and gives you a light kiss on your knuckles. “Goodnight Lady y/n. I shall see you tomorrow.”
You nod, “tomorrow.”
You get back to the feast hall and Frigga immediately rushes over to you. “There you are! Your sister and I were about to send out a search party.”
“I’m sorry Frigga, Loki and I were talking. He’s going to come to Ana’s workshop with me tomorrow.”
Frigga’s eyebrows shot up, “is he now? Well that’s…exciting.”
You can tell from Frigga’s reaction that she wasn’t expecting that and you sense a bit of concern from her. Frigga unknowingly confirms your suspicion that something else was going on. But now you know the Queen knew what that something was.
“Is everything alright My Queen?”, you ask sweetly.
She nods and smiles, “yes dear, everything is fine. I’m happy you and Loki are going to be spending some time together.”
You nod, “may I ask you something Frigga?”
She smiles, “of course.”
“I had a slight incident with one of Odin’s councilmen, Lord Alarian. He said that Idunn’s ritual ruined a betrothal between Loki and a princess from another realm. Is that true?”
Frigga rolls her eyes, “that man will be the death of me. It is true and it is also not true. There were talks with Vanaheim about arranging a marriage between one of their princesses and Loki. It was meant to strengthen our already strong bond with that realm and…honestly, I did not want Loki to be alone any longer. His heritage has become a a bit of a roadblock for him.”
“Heritage?”
“You know Loki is adopted.”
You nod, “yes, but I don’t understand why that would cause issues. There are plenty of adopted children on Earth.”
“Loki is from the realm of Jotunheim, they are hated by most beings. Especially here on Asgard.”
“Oh. Is that why his hand turns blue?”
Frigga looks at you in shock, “he showed you his true form?”
“Not entirely, it was just his hand. When Lord Alarian approached me, he grabbed me by the wrist to stop me from leaving.” You lift your wrist to show Frigga your now healing wrist, still slightly red but the swelling was gone and the bruising that was developing had disappeared as well. “I don’t believe he did it on purpose but the swelling and the bruising started to develop quickly. Loki saw me on my way back into the feast hall, he saw my wrist and took me to his chambers to help. He used his hand to ice my wrist.”
Frigga smiles, “I’m sorry you were injured by that awful man but I must confess I am elated that Loki took care of you as any good mate should.”
“So no one else can turn blue here?”, you ask.
Frigga laughs, “not unless we have another hidden Jotun heir somewhere in Asgard, no. No one else can change to that form.”
You nod, another piece to the puzzle that is Loki. No wonder he feels so alone. He’s literally the only one of his kind here and on top of that he’s surrounded by people that hate his kind. Why wouldn’t he feel alone? Or want to be for that matter.
“Well, it is time for me to retire I believe. I hope You have a wonderful visit with Loki tomorrow. I just ask that you remain as open minded as you have been. Loki is a complex being and he sometimes makes rash decisions when he feels like he has no other options. He will make mistakes y/n, but with a little patience I promise you, the love and the devotion you will receive from him will be worth all of the trials you face.”
You smile at Frigga, “I will try Frigga, thank you for explaining those things to me.”
“Of course.”, she gives you one final smile and turns to leave with her ladies.
You watch her leave feeling a combination of comfort and confusion. Something is definitely going on and you were pretty sure Frigga knew what it was.
Tomorrow. You have a feeling everything will reveal itself tomorrow.
To be continued….
Tag List: Tagging works sometimes and then decides to not work other times. So I hope this works 😁
@mintfrostflower @lotrefcp @mostlymarvelgirl @tekutiger @missingdadneto @rcailleachcola @fire-in-her-veinz @glitterylokislut @yelkmelk @talesofadragon @multifandom-world8 @firedrakegirl @enchanteddreameruniverse @skittslackoffilter
#loki fanfiction#loki x reader#loki#loki fanfic#imagine loki#loki smut#loki imagine#loki fluff#mcu loki#jotun loki#thor and jane#eventual happy ending#eventual fluff#eventual smut#loki x reader smut#smut and fluff#tom hiddelston loki#enemies to lovers
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I want to talk about the way aromantic experiences can be represented in very meaningful and validating ways without characters being written as intentionally aro, and also I want to talk about aro-spec Magnus Burnsides headcanons. Luckily, I can do both those things in one post!
During the events of the podcast, Magnus is disinterested in and often straight-up uncomfortable with romance, because of the fate that befell his last relationship, with Julia. I've seen a reading (that I don't think is objectively wrong, though I do not personally share it) that interprets this trait of his as some kind of "sacrifice" he's making on Julia's behalf, being a choice to stay out of other relationships to carry on her memory better. It's a reading that seems pretty reasonable at first glance, but not especially aromantic.
(Because if anything, it almost seems at risk of turning into something like "there is no sacrifice more tragic than not having a romantic partner," right? Or worse, "this is a trauma response that needs to be healed for Magnus to have a happy ending, because being able to enjoy romance is vital to his happiness and self-fulfillment." Both of which are... varying levels of uncomfortable, to me as an aro person. Like, I'm not in the business of telling people how to interpret fictional characters, but I personally can't engage with these without a bad feeling in my stomach.)
However! Back to the various potential readings of Magnus's character! It's worth noting that so much of Magnus's arc revolves around unpacking his trauma, from the destruction of Raven's Roost and Julia's death — and that healing process doesn't change how he feels about romance! The Eleventh Hour is the turning point when he starts to seriously re-evaluate what the trauma and loss made him want, versus what Julia would want for him, and what would let him live in the moment instead of in the past... yet in the Heart Attack segment of Wonderland? Magnus still expresses disinterest in dating.
In Arms Outstretched, then Story and Song, he further internalizes and chooses to let himself be saved and ask for help, instead of punishing himself with martyrdom — and no romantic relationships come up in the epilogue! When he passes away after a long, happy life, it's Carey, — his best friend! — who holds his hand while they wait for the end!
Magnus's reasons for not wanting another relationship are obviously complex — not just a conclusion about himself that he came to lightly, regardless of whether he's on the aromantic spectrum, not on it at all, or deliberately not choosing a label. What makes his arc so unique and special to me, in contrast with almost every other story about traumatized characters finding a happy ending, is that his happy ending isn't contingent on romance! Whenever he says that he's that not into dating, no one doubts him or tries to undermine him (other than Lydia, who's literally trying to feed on his suffering), and to me, an aro listener...
Well, the way the narrative takes Magnus's wants and lack thereof seriously is just so refreshing.
Ninety percent of characters in fiction who repeatedly stress that they don't want romance or marriage are only shown doing so to set up for the narrative later proving them wrong. It's to contrast with that later point in the story where they "find the right person," or "understand when they're older." Or "stop being so cold," or "stop acting like they're too fucked-up and 'damaged'." Or "overcome their trauma."
It has an air of "wow, isn't this character so ridiculous, for thinking they won't change their mind later?" Or occasionally, "isn't it so tragic, that they can't envision themselves being loved?"
For protagonist-y characters, for heroic characters like Magnus — for any type of character in which "happily ever after" is considered a plausible, fair-game, genre-acceptable outcome — we see the genre conventions also dictate that "settling down in a romance" and the "happy ending" are intertwined. I've seen TAZ posts from back in the era of The Suffering Game/The Stolen Century airing, expressing sentiments like "Magnus not finding someone to love again would be so tragic and mean-spirited, I hate grim and edgy endings like that." While I can appreciate people trying to subvert tropes like "you can only have one 'true love' in all your life," the incredibly non-subversive and ultra-amatonormative belief that "romance is a prerequisite for a happy ending, or even healing arc" is such a deeply unfortunate one to tag on.
I am aromantic. I don't want a romantic relationship. And I find joy in that! I refuse to accept that I need to be "fixed" or "healed" to live a long, happy life, because I'm not broken! What brings me the most joy beyond just living as an aro is seeing stories actually acknowledge that people can find this happiness without romance — like how Magnus's story does! Like how casually and matter-of-factly it subverts expectations — how Magnus says he doesn't want another relationship, and no one comes along to prove him wrong! He doesn't "find the right person" because at this particular phase of his life, and of how he wants to live, there isn't one in a romantic context!
He heals from his trauma enough to find all kinds of joy — doing things he loves, surrounded by people he loves — and not because of, or in service of pursuing, a romantic relationship!
I almost never see fantasy stories where one of the heroes gets to have an arc like that. An arc where they get to live out an ending that I would want. A happy ending that would be happy for me! For people like me!
Magnus Burnsides gives me so much Aromantic Hope. That this is a kind of happy ending that I am not the only one to idealize, and that I could attain, no matter what horrors are being thrown at me in the present. Magnus dies peacefully, after years of assuming that he wouldn't, and he does so surrounded by his dearest friends and family. Who are all so proud of the life that he lived. Magnus was true to himself, to what he felt would bring him healing and fulfillment — instead of what cliché and expectation dictated to him — and he was completely at peace in the end. Ready to rush in one final time.
I immensely doubt that Travis intended for Magnus's to be an aromantic story in those words, if at all. But Magnus's story resonates so, so much with so many common aromantic experiences. And that means so much to me. I'm so grateful for that. In this day and age, in this world, I needed that.
I needed to have a good long cry about Magnus Burnsides. Aromantic icon, intentional or not.
...
...Of course, because this is tumblr, I want to make a clarification. This isn't some kind of claim like "shipping Magnus with people other than Julia is problematic." It is, however, a thesis statement that "no such ship becoming canon makes Magnus's arc so much more unique." It's an explanation giving full context to how I'm biased, not objective, but willing to argue that it makes his arc so much more meaningful, too.
And most of all, it's a desire to shine a light on a side of Magnus's character and growth that I think goes underdiscussed. Especially underdiscussed through an aro-spec lens. And speaking of which:
Sure I said I don't think Magnus was intended as an aro-spec character, or that he can only be interpreted as such — but if you made it this far, you know I think this ruff boi's just chock full of aro-spec subtext! So just for fun — and because the world is always deserving of more aro-spec headcanons — let's end this post playing with some different readings of him as aro-spec!
Gray-Aro or Demiromantic Magnus who rarely falls for people to begin with. Why would it be some tragic heroic sacrifice to remain "chaste" and wait for Julia, when not being into romance is just Magnus's default state of being? He's so confused about why people think he's making some tragic sacrifice! So confused, guys! I even wrote a fic about the gray-aro HC a few months ago (link)!
Gray-Aro or Demi Magnus who thought he was just aromantic, no attraction whatsoever, for over a century — until he met Julia, and fell for her (perhaps very, very slowly). But that doesn't change those years gaining perspective as a platonically, familialy loving aro who values those bonds immensely, and always wanted them to remain a prominent part of his life.
Losing Julia devastates him, of course it does — but especially once he remembers the Stolen Century, he knows he has a long-term support system no matter what, and it won't revolve around chasing that unlikely possibility of feeling romantic love again. Why would it? Why would he need to chase something so fickle just to heal?
Aromantic Magnus who feels no romantic attraction, but in the era of Raven's Roost, doesn't not want a romantic relationship. Except, he doesn't after all. Except wait, he kinda does, it's just complicated. Maybe something queerplatonic? Well, he really likes the idea of a wedding, and that's not necessarily mutually exclusive, but there's no guarantee his partner would feel that way too, and...
There's just these expectations that go with dating or marriage, of partners expecting him to love them in such a specific way that he knows he can't... and then he meets Julia, who's a romance-seeking aromantic too, with heavily overlapping feelings. Bonding over their similarities leads to dating, and eventually marrying, over a deep platonic love that may or may not still involve cuddles or kisses, or a desire to start a family. They don't panic too much over the labels — they're just so delighted to be with someone on the same wavelength!
When Julia dies, so much goes through Magnus's head. After a while, he can't help but start thinking again about how rare it is for people to want the same things out of a relationship that he does. Or to consider the way he feels for them to be enough. But as time passes, Magnus comes to terms with it more and more. He's happy to wait for Julia again. After all, he's longing, but not lonely. Mourning, but not incomplete.
Aromantic Magnus who is aromantic specifically because of his trauma, but no less aromantic for it. He just can't bear the thought of getting into a relationship again. Ironically, there's a point in time where he thought of himself as a romantic — back while he and Julia were courting each other — that now feels simultaneously so close and so distant. Magnus who has so much to grieve, and grieves this romantic side of him too — at first. Who thinks that there's only two options, for a folk hero in a story like his — settling down to live happily ever after, or dying in battle. And if there's nothing more upsetting, more uncomfortable, than getting married again — then living happily ever after has got to be off the table, right?
Magnus who slowly realizes that doesn't have to be the case. That no, barring seeing Julia again, he certainly doesn't have reason to believe that even time will change this new, alienating part of him — but maybe, it's not so alien after all. Maybe he knows people who won't even question it. Maybe he doesn't have to change it or overcome it to be happy again.
Why is romance some singular thing he has to chase, in order to settle down peacefully again? Why can't he do it with his friends? With his dogs?
And last, Questioning Magnus who might be aro, who might not be aro, and is maybe most likely to be something in between. But it's hard to tell; he's honestly not sure if he'll ever crack it, and.. ultimately, he's okay with that. Because all that matters to him is knowing he doesn't need a relationship to be complete, to take full advantage of his well-earned happy ending — and he's got a great grasp on that one, surrounded by people who never make him doubt it.
Aromantic Magnus Burnsides. Aro-Spec Magnus Burnsides. My aromantically beloved. Thanks, bud, for all the hope when I needed it.
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no time for worry, just time for love
context: sephiroth wants to make the best of time he has before going on his mission for a while.
warnings: nothing, just mostly fluff.
the sun creeps up from the clouds as sephiroth wakes up and turns to face your sleeping figure. he can’t help it, but smile. he’s in pure content that you’re by him and that you’re safe. he slowly gets up to get ready for the day.
a moment or two later you wake up after sephiroth gets out of the bed. “Sephiroth?” you call out from not seeing his figure on the bed beside you. sephiroth turns to look at you with a small smile planted on his face, “I’m here my dear. I didn’t want to wake you, you were sleeping so peacefully.” you smile at his consideration and then remember the mission he’d go on monthly was here well tomorrow. sephiroth noticed the change on your expression and leans closer to you. “My dear tell me what’s wrong?” you look into his eyes and start to speak, “You’re leaving tomorrow, it feels so fast when you come back and then it’s the same.”
sephiroths eyes meet yours and his expression softens, “I always come back, I promise you this.” he gently takes your hand into his to reassure you. you listen to his reassurance and feel it within his touch. “Please be safe with whatever you do sephiroth.” you say. “I always am. Let us forget about this, how about we go somewhere you like?” he compromises. a gleam turns into your eyes as he proposes the idea. the worry of him during his mission is now on the back of your mind. he admires you lost in thought. you think of an idea and begin, “There is a new library in town we might want to check out.”
by the time you guys finished the conversation you were both ready and walking to the library. you held on to his shoulder and sephiroth would take multiple glances at you, making sure you were safe and content. after some walking you both got to the library. the entrance was beautiful, it had white pillars surrounding the walls with some gold on them.
sephiroth notices your excited expression and smiles, “Shall we?” you turn to look up at him and nod. you both walk in to be filled with wonder, looking and observing the high shelves of books. you both could consider yourselves lucky from the lack of people in the library since it was early. sephiroth lets you lead to see which section you’d find yourself in.
you both find yourselves in a classics section. sephiroth happily explores the section as you do the same. you both find yourselves touching and going for the same book. crime and punishment by dostoevsky. a smile plants on your face as you let him take the book out. he smiles back and takes the book, “I found a spot in that corner, we could read this there.” you agreed, “Perfect, let’s go!”
you both position yourselves on the two chairs that were by eachother as sephiroth begins to open the first page. sephiroth looks at you and asks, “Would you like me to read to you?” you look back at him and answer, “That would be lovely.” an hour or so passes and you both are ready to go home. sephiroth goes with you to the librarian and borrow the book.
on the walk home, you hold onto his arm and look around. sephiroth walks steadily and begins to inquire, “There’s this cafe, I have been wanting to take you to. Would you like to go?” you look up at him and respond, “I would love to, where is it?” he points to his right and explains how it’s hidden, but he knows what he’s talking about.
you both stand of the entrance which doesn’t seem like a cafe, but as you get in you see the beauty of it. how the outside may deceive, but within the beautiful lights we’re hanging on the ceiling. “Is this to your liking?” sephiroth smiles. you happily nod, “How did you find this place out?” sephiroth then explains, “Well one night I was taking a stroll and stumbled here. I wondered what this places contents would be. It made me think of you, its beauty.” you smile from his words and kiss his cheek. sephiroth face flushes and he tries to pretend that he wasn’t flustered from your kiss.
you both order your drinks and pastry. now you both wait for it. you hear the blender making sephiroths drink first and see the other employee putting the pastries in a bag. after a while it would be done. sephiroth payed and you both were on your way home. the sun was now setting now. sephiroth could only ask, “Did you enjoy today my dear?” you exclaim and rejoice of how much fun you had today.
your rejoice lasted to the doorstep and you both step in as sephiroth closes the door behind you. he sets the drinks and pastry along with the book on the counter. he gets out plates for the pastries and sets it on the table. you find straws from his drawer and set it in your guys drinks. you both chat about the book you guys had read. the pastries and drinks were consumed during the chat.
now you both were in bed, clean from a quick shower. you brought yourself closer to him, “Do wake me before you go please sephiroth.” sephiroth turns to you and promises, “I will my dear don’t worry. Rest now.” he gives you a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away to sleep. slowly after you drifted off. now morning would soon come and you’d say your goodbyes for now..
#snoopy writes 🗝️𓂃 ࣪ ִֶ#sephiroth#sephiroth x reader#final fantasy x reader#final fantasy sephiroth#ffvii x reader#ffvii rebirth#ff7 rebirth#sephiroth crescent#sephiroth crescent x reader#ffvii fanfiction#final fantasy 7 crisis core#final fantasy 7 x reader#sephiroth fanfiction#ff7 remake#ffvii sephiroth
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would data like isopods or would he be a horseshoe crab guy
aw dang you're just gonna pit them against each other like that?
i do not think data would be able to play favorites with them if he tried. instead, he would create a wonderfully informational speech about both creatures, and it would last many hours and everyone on the ship will be very annoyed with it, but we should absolutely all hear him out on what he has to say because it is all very important.
#i would happily listen to what he has to say#fanart#star trek fanart#data soong#tng fanart#horseshoe crab#isopods#i always draw him more smiley than he actually is but shhhh. he is just a happy little guy.#also i love how I was asked this question as if i personally knew him and what his opinions would be
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Is there a Fix-It out there where they explain to Jason what's going on and he not only believes them, but he does help with the plan hence why this time is works and no one has to die smily face????? Cuz I lowkey wanna read that.
#I just think life would have been easier if someone talked with Jason first#preferably before Patrick (or whatever his name) died. so when they are explaining that dude can be like 'i hear that clock' and they make#him listen to music and he's well :) or they find out too late and he dies anyway#OR even better Jason doesn't believe it until he sees Patrick die and blames himself for not listening to the others#anyway he could either be with Max and Lucas OR the bait team so he can help Eddie distract the bats :)#and they both end up a little bit fucked up but the damage is not that big (more of a Steve damage not I'm gonna die from blood lost#damage) so they all get out and to a hospital and Jason confirms that the person who killed Chrissy attacked him and Munson no don't ask#about the bites man just trust me bro that's what happen. and they do trust him cuz yk rich boy power or whatever (+the party agreeing)#and they lived happily ever after#(((but also like Jason and Eddie becoming besties after that over blaming themselves for Chrissy's death)))#gosh this fandom has so many opportunities and openings for fanfictions and yet#stranger things#stranger things jason#jason carver#I am sorry but if my girlfriend died in someone's trailer I would go haunt the owner of said trailer too#okok maybe I would let the owner explain first but if nothing comes out of that I would kill that motherfucker without hesitation#just saying#not excusing Jason. just yk. mood
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Theories of Relativity
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: you don’t need TikTok theories to prove that your relationship is a dream come to life, but it doesn’t hurt when your boyfriend passes all of them with flying colors
The Olive Theory
When you love someone, you have to be willing to make sacrifices and compromises for them (even if those sacrifices are something small like pretending to hate olives just so you can give them to your olive-loving partner instead)
You sit across from Charles at the long dinner table, smiling as he animatedly recounts the race from last weekend. His hands wave through the air, punctuating his story as he describes the final lap battle with Max down to the last corner. You’re only half listening though, too distracted by how handsome he looks in his dinner jacket, his tanned skin glowing in the low light of the restaurant.
As Charles pauses to take a sip of wine, you lean in and whisper, “I wasn’t really watching the race, I only had eyes for you.”
Charles chuckles, his nose crinkling adorably. “Oh really? So you missed all the action then?"
You shrug, trailing a finger down his arm. “What can I say, I find you far more interesting than the other cars going around in circles.”
Charles opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a mechanic sitting a little way down from you. “Oi Charles, why do you keep picking all the olives out of your salad?"
You look down, noticing the small pile of olives Charles has stacked onto the edge of his plate.
Charles glances at you, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Oh, um, I’m not a huge fan of olives.”
The mechanic frowns in confusion. “But I’ve seen you eat olives before. You always get them on your pizza.”
“I, uh ...” Charles stammers, clearly flustered.
Under the table, you squeeze his hand reassuringly. Charles looks at you and you give him a small nod.
“Well, the truth is,” Charles says, turning back to the mechanic. “I actually love olives. But Y/N loves them even more than I do. So I pick them out of my food to give to her.”
You smile softly at Charles, warmed by his thoughtfulness. The mechanic chuckles and shakes his head. “You two are so cute it’s almost gross.”
Charles just grins and pops an olive into your mouth. “Anything for mon amour.”
You crunch the olive happily, then lean in to give Charles a quick kiss on the lips. “People who say chivalry is dead have simply never met you.”
The conversation moves on, flowing from racing to travel and everything in between. Under the table, your fingers stay intertwined with Charles’ the whole time.
After dinner, you all head outside into the cool night air. Charles’ team members head off towards their own cars, calling out goodbyes.
You snuggle into Charles’ side as you walk towards where his Ferrari is parked. “Thank you for the olives,” you say. “But you really don’t have to deprive yourself on my account.”
Charles wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “I want to though. I like making you happy.”
You stop next to the car, turning to face him. Running a hand down his chest you say, “You know what would really make me happy right now?"
“Hmm?" Charles murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.
You grin mischievously. “A stop for gelato on the way home.”
Charles laughs and opens the car door for you. “Anything for you, mon cœur.”
The Bird Test
If you say something that could be deemed insignificant and your partner responds with genuine curiosity, that’s a really good sign that your relationship will last a long time
The Brazilian sun beats down as you wander hand-in-hand with Charles along the edges of the Interlagos circuit. It’s the day before qualifying, and Charles brought you out to the track in São Paulo to share the grid walk with you.
You stroll slowly, enjoying a rare private moment together during the hectic race weekend. Charles points out details along the track — the tricky off-camber Turn 3, the sharp left-right complex at Turns 5 and 6, the long full throttle blast down the back straight.
You love seeing him so in his element here, his passion for racing evident in his voice and gestures.
As you round Turn 12, heading down the home straight, a flash of bright blue in the trees catches your eye. Gasping in excitement, you grab Charles’ arm and point.
“Look, a hyacinth macaw!”
Charles follows your gaze to the large, vividly colored parrot perched in the branches. “Wow, that’s amazing! I’ve never seen one outside of a zoo.”
You bounce on your toes, thrilled at the sighting. “Aren’t they gorgeous? That bright blue is unreal. Macaws are pretty rare around here, I can’t believe we spotted one!”
Charles smiles at your obvious delight, then turns back to observe the macaw with curiosity. “What do they eat?" He asks. “Fruit, like other parrots?"
“Yes exactly!” You reply eagerly. “Mostly palm nuts and acai berries. And they need a huge range of territory, something like 80 square kilometers.”
As you chat more facts about the brilliant bird, Charles listens attentively, asking more questions and commenting on its beauty. His genuine interest and engagement makes your heart flutter happily.
Eventually the macaw takes flight, its bright wings flashing blue against the trees as it disappears into the forest.
“Incredible,” Charles murmurs, watching it go. “What an amazing thing to see.”
He turns back to you, eyes shining. “Thank you for pointing it out, I never would have spotted it myself. I love seeing you so excited teaching me about something you’re passionate about.”
You step closer, looping your arms around his neck. “And I love that you always listen and want to know more, even if it’s not about racing.”
Charles wraps his arms around your waist, smiling tenderly. “Of course, your passions are my passions now too. I want to know everything that sparks that beautiful light in your eyes.”
The Orange Peel Theory
A partner’s willingness to perform small acts of service is indicative of a healthy relationship
Early morning sun filters into the kitchen as you sip your coffee, still wearing the oversized Ferrari shirt you slept in. Charles stands at the counter across from you, freshly showered and humming to himself as he browses his phone.
Setting your mug down, you grab an orange from the fruit bowl and start to peel it. Or at least you try. The tough rind puts up a stubborn fight, your nails scraping uselessly against it.
“Ugh, I hate peeling oranges,” you grumble after a minute. “Whose idea was it to make the peel so impossible?"
Charles glances up with a sympathetic smile. “Here, let me.”
He takes the orange from your hands and deftly digs his thumb into the top, effortlessly tearing the peel away in one long curl.
You watch in admiration as he strips the rest of the orange until it’s completely naked and ready to eat.
“Voila,” Charles presents it with a flourish. “One perfectly peeled orange for mon ange.”
“My hero,” you grin. You go to take it from him but Charles playfully keeps it out of reach.
“Ah ah, allow me,” he says. Holding your gaze, he gently pulls apart one glistening segment and brings it to your lips.
Happiness bubbles up in you at this sweet, unexpected gesture. You let Charles pop the orange slice into your mouth, savoring the bright citrus burst.
“Delicious,” you murmur. Charles smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his thumb brushing a drop of juice from your lower lip.
One by one he continues to peel the segments and feed them to you, interspersing each with tender kisses that taste of orange and love.
You close your eyes blissfully, letting the sensual ritual relax you. Charles takes his time, not rushing. He knows this is your favorite part of the morning, stealing these private moments together before the busy day sweeps you both up.
When the last segment is gone, Charles kisses you again, deeper this time. You loop your arms around his neck, melting against him.
“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you whisper when you finally separate.
Charles nuzzles your nose with his. “You may have said it once or twice. But I never get tired of hearing it.”
You lean into him contentedly. As always, his thoughtfulness and care warms you from the inside out.
Peeling an orange is such a small act but the meaning behind it speaks volumes. Charles knows your quirks and preferences, and cherishes these little opportunities to make your day brighter.
The little things that mean everything.
You’re still musing dreamily about this when Charles tips your chin up. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks with a curious smile.
You shake your head, focusing back on him. “Just thinking about us. And how perfectly you peel my oranges.”
Charles laughs. “Well I’m glad to be of service. I know how you hate getting orange string stuck under your nails.”
He kisses your fingertips one by one. “Can’t have anything marring these beautiful hands.”
You scrunch your nose at him. “Oh yes, I need to keep my hands soft and dainty in case a prince comes along to propose.”
Charles squawks in protest and tackles you against the counter, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you mercilessly. You dissolve into helpless giggles, swatting him away.
“No no, stop! I take it back!” You gasp.
Charles relents, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. “Too late, you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs, kissing your temple.
You snuggle into him contentedly. No fantasy prince could ever compete with the reality of Charles.
The Invisible String Theory
An invisible string connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance (the string may stretch or tangle but it will never break)
The living room is filled with laughter and happy chatter as you and Charles sit surrounded by both your families. Your wedding is only two days away, and his mother suggested gathering everyone together one night for reminiscing and quality time.
Looking through old photo albums is proving to be hilarious and heartwarming. Baby pictures, school plays, family vacations — memories preserved to embroider the story of your lives before fate brought you together.
Charles smiles wistfully as Lorenzo shows an album from their childhood. “I wish my godfather and father could have met you,” he says softly. “They would have loved you so much.”
You take his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder. His lost loved ones are always close to his heart.
Your mother passes an album to you with a smile. “Oh this one is from our trip to France when you were five! So many cute little Y/N photos.”
You roll your eyes but obligingly open the album, Charles peering over your shoulder. You flip through pictures of your younger self building sandcastles on the beach, wearing a hilariously large sun hat, beaming gappily with missing front teeth.
Charles grins down at you. “Adorable. I can’t wait for our kids to-”
He stops abruptly, staring down at the page. You follow his gaze to a photo of your family in Nice, taken in front of the Le Negresco hotel. And there in the background, almost out of frame — four familiar figures walking down the promenade.
A young Charles holds the hand of a teenage boy you immediately recognize as Jules. On Charles’ other side, his father Hervé carries a toddler Arthur.
Your breath catches sharply. The families fall silent around you. Charles’ fingers tremble slightly as they trace over the image.
“Of course we went to Nice often,” he whispers. “I had no idea ...” His voice trails off, thick with emotion.
Arthur cranes his head to see. “Is that us? With Papa and Jules?" He looks between you and Charles with wide eyes.
“Almost twenty years ago,” Lorenzo marvels. “And your paths were already crossing.”
Pascale wipes at her eyes, grasping Charles’ other hand tightly. “It was meant to be. Some invisible string tying you together even then.”
Charles’ fingers tremble as they trace over the image. For one brief, impossible moment, it feels like you’re all together — you, Charles, Jules, Hervé. Preserved in time, intersecting at the crossroads of past and future.
Though you never met in life, somehow you were all bound in that instant, tied by invisible strings of destiny. Strings that would one day guide you and Charles to each other.
It’s only a photo, yet looking at it you feel Jules and Hervé’s presence like a bittersweet embrace. As if across the years, they’re saying we know you. We love you. We’re so happy for you both.
You stare down at it, this captured moment of impossible synchronicity. A glimpse of the thread that wove itself silently through your lives until the day it finally drew you together.
Charles meets your eyes, his own shimmering with tears. Without words, you know he feels it too. The impossible link stretching back through time. Proof you were always meant to find each other.
He pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “I believe that with all my heart, we’ve always been connected somehow.”
“Soulmates,” you whisper.
You cling to him, overwhelmed with certainty. Through accidents of time and geography, missteps and milestones, your story was always guiding you here.
Meant for each other. Destined, even then.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ PARTNERS — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationship, you and suguru are partnered for a project instead of satoru…and he doesn’t take the news lightly, dramatic toru and INSTIGATOR suguru
satoru is sulking—you’d find it a little amusing any other day, but he seems a bit more upset than usual. and quite frankly, suguru isn’t really helping things out either, so you feel just a little bad.
“baby,” you poke his cheek, “it’s not our fault! we just got randomly assigned—”
“whatever,” he huffs. you tug at his arm, but he pulls it away.
it just so happens that the three of you seem to share a class this semester—but unfortunately, suguru is assigned as your partner for a project. it’s the same project satoru wanted to be paired with you for. he seems convinced it’ll be you and him that are called—which, in all honesty, the likelihood of being paired with you out of the multiple people in the class is low, but it’s only added insult to injury that suguru had the odds in his favor.
satoru is not handling it well.
“toru,” you insist, pinching his cheek in hopes to cheer him up. he scowls at you—as if this is your fault, “c’mon, cheer up! now that it’s suguru, you can just tag along when we work—”
“tag along?” he cuts you off, tone bordering on hurt, “so now i’m the third wheel?”
oh dear.
“n-no!” you say quickly—suguru has the audacity to snicker, earning a warning glance from you, “you’re never the third wheel, toru. you’re the first wheel! the only wheel. really!”
“y’know,” suguru starts—you already know whatever he’s about to say is going to make things ten times worse. you try (and fail) to glare at him until he’s silent. “if i recall, the two of you got together through a project, didn’t you? who knows, maybe you’ll have the biggest crush on me after this is over.”
suguru drops the bomb and winks. you look at him like you want to kill him. satoru’s face is devastated.
you think this might be the end.
“what?” satoru gasps, turning to you quickly, “tell him that’s impossible, tell him! tell him he’s hideous and that you only have eyes for me—”
“toru, of course i only have eyes for you, don’t listen to him, he’s just pushing your buttons—”
“hey, you never know. i might charm you,” suguru adds fuel to the fire—this time, you throw your water bottle at him. he catches it with ease, throwing you a smug grin that makes you scowl deeper.
“you’re hideous, suguru,” satoru spits, “no way anyone would leave me for you—”
“that already happened. remember your girlfriend in middle school?”
“that doesn’t count! we were too young to know what love was back then!”
satoru is practically inconsolable now—you consider dropping out of this class just for the sake of peace. maybe you can take it over the summer and be paired with a random stranger that won’t bother your dramatic boyfriend. maybe you can evade the project altogether with a different professor. maybe you can kill suguru and the misfortune of a dead partner can grant you an automatic exemption from this assignment.
you weigh your options as satoru slumps with a pout.
“whatever,” he grumbles, “i don’t even care. have fun without me.”
suguru chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. you sigh before cupping satoru’s cheeks and giving him a small kiss to his forehead to cheer him up.
not surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to work.
“cheer up, baby,” you reason, “at least since it’s just suguru, you won’t have to leave us alone to work! it won’t be awkward if you’re there too.”
“but you’ll be too busy working with suguru to talk to me,” he says bitterly.
“at least i’ll have a handsome face to keep me motivated,” you grin, kissing his jaw—now that…that seems to cheer him up considerably. he brightens, plastering that usual smug grin he sports, as if the world around him wasn’t ending just moments ago.
“i am handsome, aren’t i?” he hums, wrapping an arm around you—mission accomplished, you think happily.
“yeah,” you nod quickly, “and suguru is hideous anyway. i’d never leave you for someone with a tacky man bun—”
“hey, leave my hair out of this—”
“it is pretty tacky,” satoru nods and agrees.
suguru crosses his arms, glaring at the both of you before he opens his mouth to retaliate. you cut in before he can say anything else to worsen satoru’s mood any further.
“and maybe you can help me—you’re smarter than suguru too.”
“he is not—”
“you’re right baby,” satoru hums, “maybe this is for the best. i’ll save both of your grades this way.”
suguru’s vein all but pops. “we don’t need your help—”
“don’t worry suguru,” satoru grins confidently, pointing to himself with his thumb, “i’ll save your grade. no need to thank me—ow!”
you watch tiredly as suguru throws your water bottle at satoru’s head—it’s going to be a long project.
i already know the switch boy! au people are gonna start the “suguru definitely wants reader” comments. i’m waiting for them i can sense them already
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#rich boy! au#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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following instructions
pairing: theodore nott x gryffindor reader
summary: enemies with benefits with theo where they're constantly insulting each other but they still can't get enough. smut. au where characters at hogwarts are aged up to be 19+. mdni. / requested by anonymous.
author's note: co-wrote this with lily (@softeliza) <3 we honestly wrote this as a theo x hermione, but swapped hermione for reader
✧ read part two: following instructions (headcanons) ✧
Theo's judging eyes watch as you dice the sopophorous bean before tossing it into your cauldron, your gaze shifting between your opened textbook and your cauldron. A bead of sweat drips from your forehead. You were meticulously following the directions, and yet something still didn't seem right about your potion.
Theo scoffs, shaking his head. What an idiot, he thinks.
"You're supposed to crush it." Theo says, demonstrating pointedly with a silver dagger and popping the squashed bean into his own cauldron. The cauldron bubbles, and the liquid shifts a shade darker.
"You're supposed to follow the instructions, which clearly say to cut it," you say through gritted teeth.
Potions was the one class Theo never followed the directions for, and yet he always seemed to be doing significantly better than you. You hated that.
"You know," you add with a huff, annoyance laced in your words. "Just because you don't respect the rules any other time doesn't mean you shouldn't follow a simple recipe."
There was something about pissing you off that gave Theo the right amount of joy to get him through the day. Hearing you huff at his words was like finding a jelly slug in a mountain of acid pops. It was glorious.
"Do you believe everything you read?" Theo asks mockingly, his eyes unmoving from the cauldron in front of him. He doesn't know why he was helping you—this was meant to be a competition for the coveted felix felicis. Maybe it was because Theo knew you weren't going to listen to him anyway. "Besides, I respect the rules." Theo says, but even he can't keep a straight face at his claim, his lips tugging into a smirk.
"I believe everything I read in a textbook," you say, your eyes narrowing and your mouth falling open in shock. Was he serious? "You know, that book of words that literally outlines how to make the potion? How else would you know how to brew it?" You hope he doesn't notice the genuine curiosity in your question. You actually wanted to know how Theo knew what to do all the time. It was so infuriating.
"Natural intelligence and charm." Theo says coolly.
In actuality, Theo had managed to find a textbook filled with inscriptions, correcting the printed text with tips and tricks on how to brew a potion every time. But he wasn't going to tell you that. Theo would gladly and happily let you believe he was gifted.
Theo peeks at your cauldron and has to hold a snort back. It looked just about ready to implode.
"This is a simple recipe, huh?" Theo muses. "Is that why your potion looks and smells like absolute shit?"
"Maybe I just thought I'd throw you a scrap with this one. I mean, we both know you're in desperate need of some luck, especially on the Quidditch pitch. If anyone needs this win, it's you."
"Oh, so you watch me on the pitch, do you?" Theo says with a smug grin.
You roll your eyes. Curse him.
Theo stirs counterclockwise a few times and then once again clockwise. The potion bubbles again. This time, it shifts into its final colour form. Bingo.
Theo, with an expression beaming with pride, calls over Professor Slughorn to inspect the potion. You zero in on Theo's cauldron and let out a small sigh. You didn't need confirmation from Slughorn to know that Theo did it. That bloody asshole did it.
Slughorn tosses a single leaf into the cauldron. The leaf disintegrates, and Slughorn clasps his hands together and announces, "We have a winner! Class dismissed!"
As Theo receives congratulations from all around, you begin to tidy your workspace, empty your cauldron, and pack your things. Anger boils in your stomach. As much as you tried to avert your gaze from Theo, your eyes are drawn to the tiny vile Slughorn passes to Theo. With a triumphant smirk thrown your way, he tucks the potion into his pocket before cleaning his workspace.
"Try to use it for something other than trying to sleep with girls," you quip, clutching your books to your chest. The confident, holier-than-thou persona slips over you like a glove. It was a default shield whenever you felt threatened, especially academically. And Theo was often on the receiving end of it all. "I mean, I'm sure you could use some luck in that department, but I doubt that's what Zygmunt Budge had in mind."
"I'm doing quite well in that department, actually." Theo says. With looks and an attitude like his, girls were flocking to him like nifflers to gold. "Much like potions, really. They all just come to me."
Theo awaits your signature glare and snarky remark, but he was simply met with a silent shove to his shoulder as you headed to the door. His brows furrow, disappointed in the lack of repartee, before Theo's walking after you. He falls into step with you, following you through the dimly lit corridors of the dungeon.
"What's the rush, little lion? Can't stomach losing?"
"I'm not in a rush; I just don't want to be around you. Don't you have some dingy hole to crawl back into?" You fume, your grip on your textbooks tightens, and your pace quickens.
"You wound me." Theo simpers, clutching his chest in mock-hurt.
Being in Theo's presence was getting you more and more riled up. You felt like you were minutes away from becoming a human version of a Filibuster Firework. Theo loved when you got like this. He can't quite pinpoint the exact moment he realized why he liked seeing you so worked up, but he's quickly reminded by the staggered breathing and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
Theo continues to stroll alongside you, an air of arrogance in each step he takes. You quickly realize you have no idea where you're headed. The echoing of both your steps, coupled with the hovering nuisance on your side, makes you let out a sharp, frustrated exhale. You turn to Theo, glaring daggers into his stormy eyes.
"Can you just go? You're so—ugh." You growl, unable to find the proper words.
Theo's brows perk upward. There's something familiar about the expression you give him. He'd seen it before. Last time he'd seen it, the two of you ended up christening the boy's change room after a Quidditch match—Slytherin should beat Gryffindor more often.
Before you can articulate your frustrations, Theo grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into a vacant classroom. The feeling of his fingers around your wrist sends a jolt of warmth straight through your body. Theo pins you against the door, your books falling to the floor with a sharp thud. He skillfully locks the door with a slight flick of his wand before muttering the muffliato charm and putting his wand away. Darkened eyes meet your gaze, a mixture of amusement and want in his eyes.
"I'm so what?" Theo demands. His hand caresses your cheek before roughly wrapping around the base of your throat. "Use your words."
Your mind goes hazy, as if you've been confunded, the moment you feel his hand on your throat. You'd never admit how much you loved when Theo did that.
With a shaky breath, you meet his intense gaze to say, "Infuriating."
The way you reacted to Theo's touch was unlike any other girl he had the pleasure of fucking at Hogwarts. You were just so obvious, and Theo had no shame in admitting that he found it all extremely arousing. Of course, your mouth would claim otherwise, but Theo always had a plan to occupy your pretty little mouth.
You bite down on your lip, stifling the whimper begging to escape. Your breathing is in sync with each other, and the sexual tension makes the air around you thick.
"Are you going to fix it? Or are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" You tempt, leaning up slightly, just to see if he'll close the gap between your lips and his.
"I don't know," Theo responds, keeping a fair distance—only enough for your lips to brush lightly against his. To keep you wanting. Theo leans into your neck, ghosting breathy, teasing kisses up until he's milimeters away from your ear. "Are you going to say please?"
"You've got to be kidding," you huff, shooting a glare at Theo as you try to keep your breathing steady.
You weren't exactly experienced, at least not like Theo. You had a few moments with others, but no one had ever gotten you to feel as good as Theo did. It enraged you that Theo knew how good he made you feel, but you also took pleasure in knowing that you must be riling him up just as equally because Theo always seemed to come crawling back.
You bring your free hand up, tangling your fingers in his lush, brown locks, before tugging his head back a bit so he could look at you. He groans at this. It was one of many acts that really got Theo going, and it just so happened to be where your hands gravitated to the most.
"Please," you say, the tiniest of smirks on your lips.
Anticipation runs through your veins. You didn't need to say anything else. By the way he was looking at you, his lustful eyes boring into your gaze, Theo knew you needed him right now.
"Good girl," he muses with a cocky grin.
The first time Theo had praised you like that, while laced with ridicule, it had elicited a whimper that had him reeling. Today was no different.
Theo moves his hand from your throat and down to your waist, expertly pulling you away from the door and onto the desks behind him. Theo wastes no time and captures your lips with his. One hand finds your thigh, teasing up your bare skin and under your skirt. Your hands find and tug at his belt. Theo unbuckles it and tosses it aside.
"Let's see if you can keep it up." Theo says hotly against your lips.
It was in your nature to be good. But with Theo, there was that bubbling voice inside you that beckoned you to misbehave—to get under his skin. To be bad, all so he could teach you a lesson. Which is why, as Theo plants nippy, wet kisses down your neck, you can't help the words that blurt out of your mouth.
"Let's see if you can make me shake, like—what was that bloke's name..." You trail off, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt for another kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close.
There was no other guy, of course, but you wanted him to think otherwise. The mischievous glint in your eyes changes to amusement as Theo's eyes darken. His fingers drag possessively across the insides of your thighs. It was hard for Theo to imagine you with someone else. You two weren't exclusive by any means, but the way you'd whimper and dig your nails into his back had him feeling territorial.
"Shake?" Theo asks against your lips. There was a tinge of something in his tone, and, deep down, you wanted it to be jealousy. "I'll fucking make you shake."
Feverish kisses move down your neck, eliciting a whine out of you, his free hands taking residence on the base of your throat. He plants open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive spots along your neck, sucking softly on the skin, surely leaving a mark everyone would be able to see. Theo pulls back to admire his work. He's pleased. You, on the other hand, were equal parts excited and annoyed. Excited because the sensation made the blood rush to your cheeks and to your core, and annoyed because you had to explain the markings to your friends.
"Theo," you hiss. "You know better."
Theo doesn't listen, obviously. Instead, he moves down your body until he's crouched and face-to-cunt. Slender fingers reach under your skirt, hook onto your panties, and slide the garment off. In an instant, Theo's between your legs, lapping his tongue relentlessly over your clit.
"Oh my god," you gasp, one hand grasping onto the edge of the desk, your back arching instinctively to bring yourself closer to his tongue. Your free hand finds his hair again, your hips rolling to meet his movements.
Theo's smirks into your core, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels you roll onto his mouth. Strong hands position themselves on either leg, urging you to spread your legs wider. You try to obey his silent requests, but it's not enough. Impatience hits him hard, and he's repositioning your legs so they're slung over his shoulders, a firm hand pushing your hips down onto the wooden desk. The new position allowed him to be flush against you, his tongue circling your entrance and lapping up any arousal.
"Theo," you moan, louder than normal.
You could tell he was pissed. It'd always been your goal, especially in intimate settings, but Theo had never been like this. He buries his face between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue works on your opening. He dips a finger in and withdraws it out of you slowly, contrasting his unyielding tongue. Your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.
"More," you choke out. "Please, give me more."
Your moans were fueling the already raging fire in him. Fuck, he needed to hear more of that. Theo uses his free hand to hold you steady, his tongue and lips unrelenting. He adds another digit inside of you, curling his fingers against your spot. Theo wanted to make you cum now more than ever. He wanted you to remember that even if you were fucking someone else, he was the only one who could make you unravel like this.
"Sit fucking still then," he growled against your slit, stormy eyes shooting up to look at you.
You fight hard to listen to him, desperately trying not to squirm. Theo was cruel enough to stop and leave you high and dry, so it was in your best interest to do as instructed. You dig your nails into the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep your focus on something other than the pleasure growing inside of you.
"Th-Theo," you gasp. "I—"
You're close, and you know what Theo wants—what he always wants. Theo wanted you to ask for permission, and with the image of someone else messing with you fresh in his mind, Theo needed to know he had that control over you now more than ever. Breathy pants fill the room, and you fear you can't hold it back any longer.
"Fuck, please. Can I please..." You moan, throwing your head back against the desk.
"Please what?" Theo says roughly against you. If Theo's cock wasn't already erect, it would be now. Your moans and gasps of pleasure were truly something that needed to be studied. Who knew these delightfully ragged breaths could come out of someone so irritatingly uptight? "Words, Y/L/N."
The fog of pleasure Theo has you in has made it impossible for you to do the one thing you pride yourself on: following the instructions. Typically, Theo would remove himself and make you beg for contact. Today, though, his actions were ceaseless. Despite your strong will to be good, your body wouldn't cooperate.
"Oh my god," you whimper, your back arching as an intense orgasm washes over you. Your body jerks—no, shakes—and your moans are broken up by desperate gasps as wave after wave hits you.
Theo curses under his breath. As pissed as he was that you didn't ask, Theo graciously allows you to release on his tongue, lapping up your sweet fluids. He'd reprimand you later. As you come down from your high, your body collapses onto the desk. You've never felt anything like that before.
Theo stands and slides his fingers out of you slowly. His darkened, lustful eyes are trained on yours. As much as he enjoyed the view, Theo wasn't happy.
"Don't," you breathe. "I know—I should have... I know."
"So much for following instructions," Theo says, disregarding your words. He licks your arousal off his fingers casually, and the sight makes you shift and clench your thighs together. He was the hottest irritant you've ever seen.
"Fuck off," you say with an exasperated huff. You prop yourself up by your elbows, slowly moving into a sitting position. "You didn't exactly help the situation."
So maybe Theo was being a bit of a prick. Not like he could help it—you squirming and moaning for him like that triggered something primal in him. Theo didn't want to stop; he wanted to make you scream for him. Still, it really shouldn't have been hard to ask.
By the way Theo was looking at you, you could tell it would take more than a crass brush-off to wipe the icy glare and pouted lips from his expression. Delicate fingers grip onto Theo's shirt, tugging him closer to you. You ghost your lips against his, meeting his steely gaze. "Will you let me make it up to you?"
You don't wait for a response. Instead, you nip at his bottom lip before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. Despite his annoyance, Theo kisses back, placing a strong hand behind your neck to keep you in place. The kiss is full of passion, anger, and need.
You maneuver yourself off the desk, unbreaking the hot kiss, as you reposition so that Theo's the one against the desk. He acknowledges you taking charge, and he allows it because, quite frankly, whenever you did take charge, Theo found it extremely intoxicating.
Only now do you break the kiss, peering up at Theo as your hands fumble with his pants. He kicks them off just as you remove your own top, making a point of leaving your bra intact. Theo's breath catches. God, he wanted to bury his face between the valley of your breasts.
"So?" You ask again, a devilish smirk on your lips, your fingers making progress on unbuttoning his collared shirt. "Will you?"
"Go on, then." Theo says. It's not lost on him how much leniency he gives you—not just in this moment. Any other girl who disobeyed his instructions would have been tossed aside so he could move on to the next. But with you, as vexing as you were, you also very much intrigued him.
At his permission, you lightly push him back so he's sitting on the desk, giving him a much comfortable position to watch as you slowly unhook your bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. You can sense his probing eyes on you, and you can't help the sly smile that appears as you straddle him, one leg on each side of him.
Theo's hands find your waist immediately, slowly sliding up your sides, to your bare back, and then to your front. He squeezes your breasts, eliciting a breathy moan from you. Your skin was soft under his rough hands.
"And I thought you were going to let that ego of yours make a horrible choice for the both of us." You tease.
Theo's too enamoured with this new position (and view) to respond to your jests. One hand rests firmly on your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. Meanwhile, your hand moves to stroke his length, feeling Theo grow even harder at your touch.
"Shit," Theo groans.
"Someone's missed me," you whisper against his lips. Your thumb teases the tip of his cock, evoking a slight twitch out of him.
"God, shut up."
Theo wanted nothing more than to wipe—no, fuck—that smug expression on your face. And he's just about ready to take matters into his own hands, but you beat him to it.
Still wet from your previous orgasm, you were beyond ready to have Theo inside you. You lift yourself up slightly, guiding him to your entrance. He bites back a groan, his hands gripping your waist. You lock gazes as you slowly lower yourself onto him, your mouth falling open in a glorious 'o' shape as you take all of him into you.
While this wasn't the first time you had Theodore Nott resting deeply in your cunt, you took a moment to adjust.
"Are you going to move, or what?" Theo growls impatiently, bucking his hips and roughly nipping at the soft skin on your neck.
His impatience makes you smirk.
"Hey," you say, with a wry smile. You snake your fingers up to his hair, tugging his head back slightly to give you room to trail a path of kisses along his neck. You were going to prolong this and make you both ache for more. You didn't want to be the only one who was a moaning mess today. "If I'm making it up to you, then it's my rules."
"You know I don't give a shit about rules."
"Too bad."
This makes Theo's jaw clench. Before he can utter another quip, you're rolling your hips, feeling him embedded inside you. The movement feels good, but you know it's not enough for either of you just yet.
"God, I'm thankful your ego isn't the only thing that's big," you moan against his ear.
This makes Theo's jaw clench. You hear a string of curse words in another language, something you've noticed Theo does in moments where his brain had short-circuited. Enough sense, it seems, is knocked back into him as you can understand the breathless words, "And you take me so fucking well."
Theo's lips find the top of your chest, kissing down feverishly. His tongue flicks expertly against your right nipple as his hand moves to grip your bare ass from under your skirt. You arch into him, letting out a sharp gasp at the dual sensation. Despite his sentiment about rules, Theo lets you control the pace. He holds back the strong desire to thrust upwards into you, to fuck you hard.
"Oh, Theo," you whine as you continue to roll your hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and lift yourself up, almost completely off his dick. Ghosting your lips against his, you push yourself back down—hard—feeling him go even deeper. You repeat these movements, your moans growing louder.
Theo can't stop the thoughts of how gorgeous you looked from clouding his mind. You weren't bad to look at normally, but seeing you fuck yourself with his cock had to be one of the wonders of the world. Only if that were a reality, Theo's not sure he could stand anyone else ogling you like this.
"Yes, that... that feels good." Theo groans, his cock throbbing from your movements.
You press your forehead against his, your eyes locking with his as you continue. One of the things Theo liked most about this little arrangement was your unnerving ability to keep eye contact—there was nothing more sexy than seeing the woman you were pleasuring crumble. Eyes can tell you everything.
"I'm trying to—" you breathe, rocking yourself against him. The movement wasn't nearly fast enough, but the way you were moving had him reaching depths you didn't know were attainable. "—to be good."
"Are you?" Theo asks between pants, squeezing your ass roughly. He leans into your lips. "Can you be a good girl for me now?"
You give him a small nod, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Your breath is quavering as you try to speak; your eyes re-lock onto his. "Am I not being good for you?"
This makes him chuckle darkly. Theo wasn't an idiot. He knew you practically yearned for his words of praise. The knowledge was something he took advantage of from time to time, withholding and dangling his praise in front of you just to see how far you'd go to make him say it.
To prove to Theo you were being good, you push yourself down onto him roughly, a whimper escaping your lips. You increase your speed, unable to hold out anymore, fucking yourself hard, deep, and fast on his cock.
"Fuck." Theo swears, and he can't help himself now. Hands keep you in place as he fucks up into you, cock hitting your spot repeatedly and mercilessly. He relishes the feeling of your wet core around him. Your clit presses against his pelvis at each thrust.
You took pleasure (literally and figuratively) in Theo's natural ability in knowing. He knew what to say, how to touch you so you were melting, and when to take back control. His hands digging into your hips told you everything you needed to know: Theo was going to fuck you senseless.
"I want to be good," you pant, your nails digging into his back, grasping for a release.
"Then you know what I want to hear."
He holds you flush against him, arms wrapping around you as he continues to thrust. He can feel his own pleasure grow. Your head falls onto his shoulder as you feel it building up in your stomach again. This time, you weren't going to wait until it was too late.
"Theo, please," you practically beg. Theo was the only person who'd ever make you feel like this, and you were past the point of caring whether he knew it too. "Can I cum, please? For you."
"Yes," Theo hisses. He was close too. "Cum for me. Now."
Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, your head falling back as you drag your nails into his skin. Theo continues to thrust up sharply, chasing the high for the both of you. You clench around his length, the sensation mixed with your moans pushing Theo over the edge.
"That's my good girl."
Theo's praise for you was not lost in the chorus of breathy moans and grunts of pleasure. His addition of the word 'my' made you shake even more as another wave of pleasure washes over you.
"Oh, God, yes, Theo."
His hand moves to the back of your neck desperately, guiding you into him for a passionate kiss as he spills into you with a moan.
Ragged breaths fill the room. There was always a moment of limbo after every encounter—a moment where the two of you stayed entangled and nestled with each other, savouring the proximity and stealing last, sweet kisses. You knew the moment you got up, the two of you would go back to despising each other again, until next time.
"So?" Theo asks after a moment, expectant of an answer, as if you could read his mind. "That dumb git you mentioned earlier. Was he better than me?"
His question makes you smirk, and you have to bite it back so as not to show how content you were that he had lingered on that thought.
"You don't want me to answer that," you say, giving him a small pat on the shoulder before getting up. You slip back into your clothes and adjust your hair.
The answer should have been obvious to Theo, but you weren't giving him the satisfaction of admitting it because it did nothing for your reality. This was as far as this would go. Theodore Nott was a pretentious asshole who just so happened to be a good fuck. There was never going to be more than that.
"You definitely exceeded expectations today, Theo," you say, gathering your books from the floor. "But you didn't do anything worth an outstanding."
With a swift flick of your wand, you unlock the door and leave Theo in the vacant classroom, already fantasizing about next time.
#if you squint this is theo x ravenclaw reader#theodore nott smut#theo nott smutt#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott fanfic#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theodore nott x you#theodore nott#theo nott#*writing
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Hidden | Max Verstappen
WC: 1.5K
Max x wife!reader
Summery: May has always a private person, but is he that private that he could hide his wife of 8 years and 2 year-old son.
Warnings: none
AN: This is a little something, while I’m working on two big fics
Masterlist
Max Verstappen is many things, and when people ask you to describe him they always have a lot to say. He’s a great driver, at the top of his career, he’s aggressive, he’s sarcastic, definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his skinny jeans. He’s also incredibly private, not much is known about him that he doesn’t want to be known, how he does it is a mystery.
You both value your privacy, and any post made of you before he made it to F1 was deleted the second there was a possibility he would join. You were both young, and you knew how much hate some wags get and you didn’t want that. While Max was off racing, you were back home finishing your studies, the moment you finished high school and you were both 18 you got married. A small wedding with only family and very close friends in attendance. Some of your families were against it at first, saying you’re too young, too naive but you never listened to them. Both you and Max knew what you wanted, and there was not stopping you from getting what you wanted.
You finished Uni and when Max moved to Monaco you did too, you met some of the drivers, the ones close to Max, you met some of the team that were also close to him. And you even attended a few races, but no one paid you any attention, thinking you’re just a fan.
However the last time you made it to a race was well over a year and a half ago, you gave birth to your baby boy last winter, and after a hard delivery and a long recovery, where Max stuck by your side through it all. Your boy is almost 2 and he misses Max every time he’s away from home.
”Are you sure this is the right time?” Max asked you as you got yourself ready, Karel happily playing with his toys next to Max on the bed.
“I mean we’ve been married for 8 years now, and dating for three before that.” You point out and finish the last touches to your make-up. “We have a son and I want him to grow up seeing you do what you love to do, I don’t know when you actually want to retire, so let him see you do it before it’s too late.”
You walk over to your husband and sit in front of him with a smile.
”You’re right.” Max leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, that leaves you craving for more, Max pulls back leaving you chasing after his lips. The dutch driver laughs and lets you close the gap, your lips meeting for a bit longer, before you have to pull back or things would escalate.
“Don't forget your ring.”
“Already wearing it.”
Walking in the paddock with your son on your hip and your hand in Max’s turned a few heads for sure. It was the tack of the paddock, Max has a girlfriend and a son? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the boy you’re holding is anyones’s but Max, he’s a literal mini Max, with the small red bull merch and everything.
”Oh my god! Loca.” Lando said seeing you both, your son wiggles in your arms. He loves Lando who he sees a lot when you’re all in Monaco. Lando is one of the few people who knew about you for so long and he’s seen Karel mere days after he was born. “Come to uncle, Lala.” Karel leans out of your arms and easily goes to Lando’s. “I didn’t know you guys were bringing him today.”
“We weren’t 100% sure.” Max explains and you give him a look. “Okay, I wasn't 100% sure I’d want to bring him.”
”Well, I’m for one glad that you did.” Lando said entertaining your son.
”That makes the two of us.” You say smiling, as Max pulls you closer to his side.
After Max is sure you and Karel are comfortable at RedBull, he goes off to do his round of interviews and media duties. And it's just his luck that, he's on the panel today.
And it didn't take long before he was being questioned about his family.
“Question to Max, you seem happier today, does that possibly have something to do with your ring and those that came with you today?” Max chuckles, he looks at his wedding ring. On the panel today with him, Charles who knows about his family, Lewis who has no idea, Oscar who has no idea and Pierre who has a suspicion but hasn't been confirmed by Charles.
“Eh, if you're talking about this ring, yes. My son is here for the first time, he's finally old enough to come.” Max is smiling but just because his family came means he's suddenly open with the press and will spill everything.
“You have a son?” Lewis asked confused the gossip hadn't reached Mercedes yet.
“I'm not over the ring, you're married?” Pierre asked, Oscar was looking super confused at the RedBull driver, he heard Lando talking about Max and a child and wife but he thought it was the other Max not this Max.
“Karel's here?” Charles asked, smiling.
“Yeah, I have a son, he's almost 2 and I'm married.” Max said as if he didn't Just drop the biggest news in F1 at the moment.
“You knew about it?” Pierre asked his friend feeling left out, Charles looked cheapish and shrugged.
“It was a secret mate.”
After the panel the drivers waited for Max to ask him some more questions.
“When were you married?”
“Did you get married because of the kid?”
“What's his name?”
“Why did you hide them?”
”When can we see him?”
and so on and so forth, Max knew that this would cause quite a stir in the media but he had no idea the other drivers would be interested.
”Okay calm down everyone, let the man speak.” Lando, the latest person to join the circle said. He wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder. ”Let me answer the oblivious stuff. His name’s Karel, he was born during the winter break of last year, he’s a carbon copy of Max, and yeah, I knew about everything for a few years.”
Lando looked so smug with himself for being in the know.
”And you’re married? Never saw you wearing a ring before.”
“Yeah, got married when we were 18-“
”EIGHTEEN!!” There was a gasps and repetition to the number 18.
”Mate, that’s over 8 years ago.” Pierre said with wide eyes, he’s been Max’s teammate and he was married and he had no idea.
”Yeah, we were dating for 3 years before that, and decided to just do it.” Max explains, he was itching to get back to the garage and see his family. But he had to stand there for a few more minutes to answer all their questions, which he was comfortable with anyways.
You could see a few of the drivers shaking their heads as they dispersed from the circle in disbelief. The gossip and new information was hot, it will be all they can talk about this weekend.
You were out of his driver’s room, and standing beside Max’s car talking with a mechanic as Karel was looking at his dad’s car in fascination. It’s the car he saw every week on the TV.
“Hey.” Max greeted coming in and giving you a quick kiss, he took Karel from your arms and kisses his cheek. “How’s everything?”
”Good, Karel wants to get in the car.” You inform your husband, smiling as your son nodded his head furiously.
”Dada, car.” Karel says cutely and points at his father’s car.
”You can sit baby, don’t think you’ll see anything but you can sit.” Max says and places his child into the cockpit, RedBull cameras snap pictures and take videos.
”Future RedBull champion in the making.” You tease Max and grin, Max had this adoration look on his face. “You should get in and put him on your legs so he can see.”
Max does as you say, he hands you Karel, who you shower with kisses making him giggle and push your face away. Max gets in and you hand him Karel who he places on his lap, the child now able to see out of the car.
”Here Max.” One of the mechanics hand him the steering wheel, and Max puts it in.
”Dada, drive.” Karel says and takes a hold of the steering wheel, Max helps him turn it right and left, it’s. too heavy for him to do it alone. You take out your phone and also film this moment.
If there was ever doubt about bringing Karel, just seeing them making memories and enjoying themselves proves that it’s the right thing to do. There’s no guarantee for how long Max will stay in F1, the motorsport is forever changing and you’ve always wanted Max to make these memories with your son. And if Karel continued showing interest in cars as he does now, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ll be back at karting tracks soon enough, and replete the cycle that you went through with Max with your son.
Max looks at you and smiles, you couldn’t help but lean over and press your lips to his, in a sweet and short kiss.
”It’s good that I can kiss you whenever now.” You comment and wink at Max before you pull back.
“Lucky me.”
Maintaglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life
#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#max one shot#max imagine#max verstappen x reader#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#mv33#mv1#mv#mv1 x reader#mv33 x reader#f1 fic#max x wife!reader#f1 wife!reader
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James Potter x Lupin!fem!reader
Summary: You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.
Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers
Warnings: Regulus Black x reader mentioned, swearing, insecurities, unrequited love? James is oblivious, he's kind of an asshole, jealousy, idiots in love basically
During the six years you've known him James Potter was never mean to you.
He'd always been the sweetest out of your brother's friends, and as kids you looked up to him. However, it wasn't until you turned sixteen that it became obvious you didn't see him as another brother. Instead, your admiration turned into the most obnoxious, heart-wrenching, crush.
When, after a year of pining, you came to the conclusion that James would never like you in the way you liked him, you reluctantly allowed your crush to fizzle away.
"He's just so cute," Your smile hurts your cheeks as you lay on the ground and point out the little notes your newest crush had written in your potions book.
"Oh, and look at this," You sit up and lean in to proudly show your friends your wrist, where a messy little heart is drawn. "Isn't Reggy just the cutest?" You must sound repetitive by now but your friends still listen with enthusiasm, "I think he likes me," You whisper.
You don't pay attention when James, Sirius, and a few other Gryffindor Quidditch players walk into the Common Room until, with exhausted humphs, Sirius and James let themselves slump dramatically onto the couch behind you and Sirius nudges his foot into your ribs, "Hey, little Lupin," He teases.
You hum and nonchalantly turn to look at him, accidentally catching James's eye. Jame's arm leans across the cushions as he tilts his head a moment and his lips curl up. His tongue cheekily pokes at his cheek as they turn pinker.
"Heard'ya have a crush on my little brother," Hearing his friend, James's smirk disappears as he tears his eyes away from yours, "He mentioned you yesterday." Sirius continues.
Quickly, you jump up and happily skip over to where Sirius and James sit. Your friends watch you in amusement as you mutter, "Excuse me," and wiggle in between the boys.
James moves his arm and sits up, clearing his throat. He runs a hand in his hair as he pretends not to listen in on your conversation.
"What did he say?" You ask.
James's jaw tightens as your scent surrounds him. He is never sure if it's your perfume or your shampoo but you smell like vanilla (with just a hint of strawberry) and his heart thumps. Absentmindedly, his hand twitches around his knee.
"Said he wants to know you better," Sirius side-eyes you, "Wanted my advice on how to talk to you. You wanna know what my advice is, Lupin?" Sirius leans his elbow on his knees and his chin in his palm as he looks at you directly.
You nod, your entire body now turned away from James and facing Sirius, "Stay away from Regulus. He's trouble. I don't know what you see in him anyways." Your face falls.
"What do you mean? He's actually kind, and he's funny, and he has really gorgeous eyes." You insist a little loudly, "I like him. He makes my heart flutter as if it contained a million butterflies — " You admit.
You've have always had a tendency to dramatize your crushes.
You hear James shift and he mutters something under his breath. Turning to him, your cheeks warm as you don't think you heard him clearly, "Sorry?"
"I - can't you just shut up about Regulus for one goddamn second? Because, frankly, I don't think anyone in this room actually cares what he does to your heart or how good he makes you feel," James's voice is tense and he looks at you with a completely blank expression.
Your eyes bounce frantically from feature to feature. From his crimson cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, and a small, developing, bruise (most likely from Quidditch) hidden under his chin. You feel nauseous as his words sink in.
You look around the room. Your friends all look surprised by James's comment and a few of the Quidditch players still in the Common Room whisper among themselves as they occasionally glance your way. Sirius turns to his best friend, his smile has disappeared but he doesn't speak. You wonder if he's as lost for words as you are.
At that moment, your brother walks into the room, three or four books tucked under his arm, and he looks at you and his friends from behind his reading glasses. He sees your lip tremble as your hands shake over your lap and you refuse to look away from James. Remus frowns, "Y/n, what's wrong?" He asks, cutting into the tension.
"You're a jerk, James." Your voice quivers and you stand. Without another word, you run up the stairs to your dorm and, as quickly as possible, your friends scramble to follow you.
"Why'd you say that?" Sirius asks in shock, raising his eyebrow in question at his best friend. James barely feels like he's in his body anymore and he blinks. Why did he say that to you? He looks at Remus and his heart sinks as a pit forms in his stomach. He's so screwed.
"What the bloody fuck did you say to my sister, Potter?" Remus curses.
Remus never curses.
* * *
James hasn't spoken with you in almost three weeks. Which means he hasn't had the chance to tell you he's sorry.
He's not that stupid, he knows you've been ignoring him and he can't exactly blame you. As you'd said, he'd been a jerk and he feels goddamn awful about it.
Ironically, what is making this entire situation so much worse is instead of hanging out with your friends — with him — you've been hanging out with Regulus.
James sees you study with him in the library. He sees you eat together in the dining hall, and walk to Quidditch games, hands almost brushing. His Quidditch games. Where he can't concentrate because all he can think about is the way another boy is making you laugh as he whispers, whatever it is that is so urgent he needs to press his lips to your skin, into your ear.
"What the hell was that out there?!" Sirius sounds annoyed as he hits James in the chest with his damp towel on their way out of the showers and into the changing room, "Where was your head, because it certainly wasn't in the game, mate!"
James looks away as he dries his hair with his towel, "I know, I know. I don't know what's wrong with me lately." He slumps onto the bench and resists the urge to scream into his hands.
"It's his little girlfriend. Our captain here s'just upset because she's been spending all her time with your little bro instead of with him — like she usually does." Andy, one of the beaters, snorts from behind James and quickly, James spins around and throws his towel at him in. He sends Andy a dark look, to which Andy shrugs his shoulders.
"Y/n?" Sirius frowns, he points at James and then gestures his arms wildly, "Our Y/n? As in Remus's sister, Y/n?" James cheeks flame in embarrassment and Sirius's eyes widen, "Oh my, you're so jealous." He says with a smirks
"I am not jealous, Padfoot. I just — seeing her with him while she smiles like that annoys me a lot." James tries to defend himself, "I don't know why it bothers me so much but it does. It really does and I- it's just that she was never with other guys usually and I – " He pauses and squeezes his eyes shut as he groans, "I'm just describing my jealousy, aren't I?"
His teammates laugh and Sirius crosses his arms, "Yup." He tilts his head and pops his 'p', "So, how long have ya had a thing for our little Lupin, Prongs?"
James gives in and leans forwards to cover his face with his hands, "I don't know, Pads. I didn't even know I had a thing for her until three seconds ago." He opens his fingers and peeks at his friend, "And what am I supposed to do now? She's completely in love with your brother and she's Moony's sister."
Sirius rolls his eyes, "Oh please, she isn't in love with my brother."
James drops his arms onto his lap and looks at Sirius with confusion, "How would you know? She seems pretty in love with this to me."
"James, do you really not known that she's had a crush on you for almost a year? Everyone knows, even Remus."
James's eyes widened, "Wait, what? Since when – I - why didn't anyone tell me?"
"She made it very obvious. It's not our fault you're a knucklehead when it comes to women." Sirius chuckles and throws his towel over his shoulder. James stares blankly in front of him as all kinds of emotions wash over him.
You had a crush on him?
"Yeah, w-well she doesn't like me anymore," James concludes as he stands up and slips on his jeans, "I was a dick, she must hate me now." He clumsily buttons his chemise.
"Y/n could never hate you." Sirius chuckles, "Just go talk to her, you idiot."
James stares at his friend for a moment, debating his options, but then nods. As soon as he walks out of the changing room, he's determined to make this all okay again.
However, when he enters the Gryffindor common room a few minutes later and sees you and Regulus sitting on the ground around a game of wizards chess, his heart sinks.
His eyes automatically find the board. You're losing.
James can't help but remember all the times you've beaten him and the way your cheek had risen in excitement and smile lines had illuminated your features. He doesn't understand why Regulus would want to miss that smile.
James would kill to see you smile like that again.
You glance up at the sound of the door just as Regulus turns around. James stands in the doorway, his skin pales and his knuckles flex as his eyes vibrate. They're locked onto yours. Instantly, you're on your feet, "James!" You exclaim, eyes shifting from him and then Regulus. Regulus, whose expression is blank.
"Sorry," James mutters weakly. He realizes her doesn't have it in him to be jealous anymore. Not now that he knows why he's jealous. Who is he to stand in the way of your happiness? And if you're happy with Regulus, then he's happy for you.
He walks by you without a word and you turn around to watch him leave. However, your chest tightens when he pauses and it looks like he's debating something. You sense Regulus stand, "You know what? No." James suddenly blurts out and then turns around. You look at him like he's insane.
"I can't let you do this," He continues breathlessly.
"I think your friend has gone completely bonkers." Regulus leans in to whisper in your ear with a smirk but James interrupts him,
"This really doesn't concern you." James doesn't waste any time on him as he looks at you again, "Y/n, you should be with me, not him."
"Excuse me?" You frown and then look at Regulus as if to make sure he'd also heard James correctly. Regulus's smirk just widens as he crosses his arms.
Your embarrassment becomes worse when the common room door opens and Sirius, Peter, and your brother walk in. Their amused chatter turns into hushed whispers until they become silent as they watch the scene in front of them.
James's head whips around and you assume he'll stop whatever he thinks this is, but instead he just continues to ramble, "Hi!" His voice is hurried and loud. Sirius frowns. "You guys can stay. You should hear this too, Moony."
James turns to you again, "I like you."
You blink at him and look around the room, worried that you're losing your mind. Your brother has his cheeks flushed and he narrows his eyes at his friend. However, his eyes move to you and they soften when he sees your expression, "Y/n," Remus whispers.
"You like me? Is this one of your sick jokes?" You're unamused. James shakes his head adamantly but you continue in one breath, "I've liked you for months and months and it's only now, when you probably think I like someone else, you decide you like me? That's unfair, James" You sound stern.
"That's really fucking unfair," You whisper and push past him. James turns to you and calls your name as you disappear up the stairs to the dorms. It feels all too familiar when it sinks in that he messed things up. Again.
"You're such an idiot," Sirius groans as he drops his head on Remus's shoulder dramatically.
* * *
You throw yourself onto your bed with a bounce and scoop your pillow into your arms, screaming into it. Why does James have to be so goddamn infuriating all the damn time? He's always been oblivious to you until now — just when you've been trying your hardest to move on.
You hear a knock on your door and you grumble in response. One of your roommates walks into the room, "Remus is waiting by the stairs. Says he wants to talk to you." She says as she throws her book-bag onto the ground. You sit up, running a hand all over your face with an annoyed groan.
Reluctantly, you make your way downstairs. Your hand slides down the railing until you pause and see your brother at the end of the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest. "What?" You raise your brow and mimic his posture with a small smile.
James and Sirius aren't with him. "Come here," Remus demands calmly.
You look away and bite your lip. Still, you jump down the last pair of stairs until you're directly in front of your older brother, "Y'know, I don't know why you're pissed at me. I wasn't the one who — " Remus suddenly flicks your forehead which shuts you up.
"Do you like James?" He stares at you.
You stare back, your heart pounding. You don't know what to answer him. "I- I don't know."
"Well, you better know because he's having an existential crisis in the dorm right now and to be honest, Y/n, I'm so sick of pretending I don't know you've been head over heels in love with him for what feels like years." Your brother always sounds serious, but this time it scares you a little. Your arms drop to your side.
"Would you let me date James if I liked him?" You ask cautiously.
"I couldn't exactly stop you," Remus shrugs and looks away a moment, "Who am I to dictate your life." You see a small smile curl his lips, "Plus, James is an idiot but he's harmless. I've never seen him so genuine."
You perk up, "Yeah?"
Remus turns to you and reaches out to hold your shoulders, "Yeah. You should talk to him. He's convinced you're in love with Regulus." Your smile disappears.
"Oh, yeah, Regulus."
"You aren't in love with him, are you?" Remus asks, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
"Of course not!" You stutter, "I mean — I did like him for a moment but I've always liked James more. And I'm not exactly Regulus's type, y'know…" You admit in a whisper, knowing Remus knows exactly what you mean.
Remus smiles and nods. You look up at him and see his eyes shimmer, "If you've been holding back from liking James because of me, don't." He says sincerely, "He could make you happy, I know that."
You look at your brother's expression. He's completely serious. You look away and think back to James's confession: Y/n/n, you should be with me, not him. Your cheeks burn just remembering his words. You turn your head to your brother and nod, smiling. Remus drops his hands on your shoulders and lets you sprint up the stairs.
You barely make it to your brother's dorm when the door opens and James comes out. Your forehead hits his and the momentum causes him to fall backward.
You yelp as James's arms wrap around your waist as he cushions your fall and smacks the back of his head on the ground. You lift yourself with your arm, your knees in between James's legs as you practically lay on top of him.
James winces and his eyes shut.
"James! Are you okay?" You pant, barely aware of the embarrassing position you're in.
Sirius and Peter peek their heads out of the door and Sirius smirks when he sees the two of you, "I don't think Moony meant you could jump straight into this, Y/n." He jokes.
"Shut up," James mumbles and his hand holds your back as he sits himself up. You're now sitting on your heels as you look at James with wide eyes. He looks at you too and then his thumb gently brushes over your forehead, "You're gonna form a bruise." He mutters, eyebrows scrunching.
You smile faintly and move to adjust his glasses on his nose, "Probably from your glasses."
James stands up and helps you up with him. Your hand lingers in his and you smile faintly.
"We should talk." You say.
"Yeah," James looks away bashfully, "Come with me." He takes your hand again and you let him steer you down the stairs. Your feet barely feel like they're on the ground as you follow him.
Your stomach is in knots when he pushes the doors to the Common Room open and you make your way down new stairs and multiple hallways. Your head is spinning.
"James?" You mutter but he continues to walk, "James! Wait." You shout in a laugh. James turns around just as you pull him closer. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears when you delicately push him towards the wall and as his back hits the wall, you press your lips on his.
Your hands cup his cheeks and his hand lowers to your lower back as he pulls you into him. You can't help but smile into his mouth as you run your hands in his curls.
After a moment, he disconnects your lips and his thumbs rub across your cheeks as he holds them. He grins, "Since when do you know how to kiss like that?" He teases with a raised brow.
You smirk, "Wouldn't you like to know." You kiss him again quickly.
"Y/n, be honest," James looks serious. You frown. You thought your joke was funny. "Do – did? Di- do you still like Regulus?" He tries to avert his eyes but quickly looks at you as if he simply can't look away, "I think I deserve to know," He mutters.
"Of course you do!" You look into his eyes, "And if I still had any feelings for Regulus, I wouldn't hesitate to let you know, but I don't like him – not anymore. I haven't for weeks. Regulus doesn't like girls," You explain slowly.
James's eyes widen, "Oh. Ok." He smiles and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Good."
You giggle and kiss him again, "You're cute when you're jealous, Potter." You pause, "Cute but just a tad insane."
James frowns, "You'd go insane too, if you were me."
You grin, "Perhaps I would." You tease him and look at him adoringly, "You won't make me find out will you?"
James returns your grin and wraps his arms around you. He kisses your forehead and says,
"Never, my love."
#james potter#james potter fluff#james potter angst#james potter x y/n#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter x reader#james potter x you#marauders imagine#marauders#marauders fic#marauders imagines#marauder james potter#james potter smut#james potter imagines#james potter imagine#james potter fic#harry potter#harry potter fox#hp#hp marauders#marauders fanfiction#james potter blurb
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pregnant reader and Spencer fic where he makes her cry on accident 😭😭
Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, kisses, like one swear word, reader cries (not because of something bad tho, it's cute), use of pet names (0.6k)
Spencer is running late at least later than he'd told you he would be and he can't stress it more. You've been home alone almost the whole day, and Spencer knows you are probably more than lonely.
But even if he's already late Spencer makes one more stop to get some groceries before heading home to you.
When he finally arrives home, he can't stop apologising as you greet him by the door, the baby bump very visible underneath one of his sweaters.
"Hi sweetheart, I'm so sorry I'm late there was a problem we needed to deal with," Spencer apologises and kisses your cheek.
"It's okay, Spence," you say into his shirt, already hugging him tightly, "I missed you a lot though."
Spencer looks at you like he always does with a too loving smile, "I missed you two, too."
Spencer ushers you towards the couch, he doesn't want you to be standing for too long 'cause he knows your feet would hurt, and also because he intends to cuddle you as much as possible there.
He quickly unpacks the groceries, and remembers the snacks he's bought for you. What he doesn't know is that you've been craving exactly the same snack he's bought the entire day.
"Here I got you these sweetheart," Spencer gives the snacks to you and rushes to the bedroom to change into something much more comfortable than the suit.
You stay still, your eyes filling up with tears as you hold the snacks in your hands.
When he comes back to you, he finds you eating the snacks while the tears run down by your cheeks.
"Woah, woah, woah, what's wrong?" Spencer immediately sits next to you, and starts to wipe the tears away.
"I just....-" you start with small hiccup, "I just love you so much."
A warm chuckle escapes Spencer's mouth, before he's back to comforting you. He's read every single book there's on pregnancy, so he knows how tough it is with the changes of hormones.
"Oh, baby, I love you too is that why you're crying, huh? Or is it something else? Maybe me being late?" He really hope it isn't the latter.
"N-no, I just-... I just really wanted these snacks all day, Spence," you tell him as another set of tears escapes from your eyes, "a-and they are too good."
"Oh sweetheart, if I knew you wanted them so badly i would have bought more," Spencer tells you with a sympathetic smile.
He understands it can be a lot for you from time to time, even if it's something as simple as craving some snack, so he let's you eat your snacks while he wipes away the tears. He does that until the snacks are gone along with the tears.
You look just unhappy about finishing the snacks as you did minutes ago eating them. You give him a puppy eyes, and Spencer is up on his legs before you can even say his name.
"Spencer...?"
"Don't worry, lovely. I got it, I'll buy you more than enough," Spencer quickly gives you a kiss, and goes to put on his shoes, car keys already in his hand.
"Spence?"
"Yes?" he looks back at you so fucking lovingly completely unbothered about the fact that he has to go to the shop again that you think you might start crying again (Spencer loves you so much that it happens a lot, you crying about how much you love him).
"Of course, but only if you really want to. I don't mind going alone."
"I want to," you say enthusiasticly. That is all Spencer needs to take your shoes, and go back to you. He puts the shoes on for you, kisses your bump, and helps you get up.
"C'mon, sweetheart. I'll get you anything you want if you tell me about your day, " Spencer happily listens to you chatter about everything that crossed your mind through the day.
You and Spencer leave the shop with way too many snacks, but it's okay because you're happy as one can be and that's all Spencer needs, okay maybe the cuddles too.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid
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Could I go in depth into this? Yes. And will I? Yes (in the upcoming fic) but rn you’ll get a lil dabble
Simon Riley! Who lives by routine, he thrives on it- after years in the military it’s ingrained into his DNA
Simon Riley! Who takes feeding schedule for the baby very seriously, naturally waking up at 2am even if you were not awake-
“Simon, baby- come back,”
“In a minute luv,” he would mumble, leaning over the bed to press a chase kiss to your face, “gonna get Tessie her bottle ‘n I’ll be back, yeah?”
Simon Riley! Who makes Ollie is up and ready by seven am (since you said six was a bit early)
Simon Riley! Who likes cooking, and depending on the dish- he’s pretty good at it (don’t ask him to make pasta, bad idea)
Simon Riley! Who is baffled when one of the workers at the elementy school (he giving Ollie his lunch and brought Tess with him) told him that it was a ‘woman’s duties to watch the newborn
“I mean- look at you, it little embarrassing, don’t you think?”
…
..
“Yer one of those ‘incel’s my son was tellin be ‘bout, yeah?”
Simon Riley! Who still has to do conferences and trainings and whatnot but lord knows that man is on face time on the drive there and back; happily listening to whatever Ollie had to say or just being on the phone while you slept
Simon Riley! Who shows his love through installing a new shower head (the one you had been eyeing for a solid two months), helping you garden (gripes about his knees the whole time but nonetheless) or just sitting in your presence
Simon Riley! Who lets you ramble, doesn’t matter what about, butterflies, trucks, stationary, books, music, fishes any and everything that caught your attention he thinks is the new ‘thing’
On that! He buys you things related to what you love- if you love prehistoric reptiles (dinosaurs) oh look at that! Matching pjs for the whole family
Simon Riley! Who plays peek a boo with Tess on his lap during breakfast, the baby squealing with laughter, which would in turn cause his own
Simon Riley! Who makes sure to always keep the flowers on the dining room table fresh
Simon Riley! Who calls you at random times-
“Hi, honey, what’s up?”
“Does Ollie still like green?”
“Mm?”
“Foun’ a bike, his size, it’s green though- tha’ be alright?”
—
“Hey-“
“I love you.”
…
“A lot. Love you a lot.”
“A…are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Johnny…he-..somethin happened, I’ll be back tonight- yeah?”
“Simon…”
“I love you. Tell the kids that too.”
annnnd heres the fic Last Call
(Annnnnyway that’s all! Comments, feedback and all that jazz means so so much to me! <3))
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley#simon riley fanfic#simon riley x you#cod x you#simon riley x reader#coco's chaos <3#cod fluff#coco’s pre k universe! <3#simon fluff#simon x reader#xfem!reader#simon riley drabble#simon riley x female reader#call of duty x reader#ghost fanfiction#ghost imagine#call of duty imagine
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Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?
I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss
Gale
At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter
He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby
Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”
He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining
Shadowheart
As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure
shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings
Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off
Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again
Astarion
STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??
recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked
It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages
If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)
Wyll
He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to
when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered
He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns
Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)
Karlach
Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it
If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped
Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes
jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”
Lae’zel
She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything
But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised
Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.
Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.
Halsin
At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work
When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.
Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out
You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair
#baldurs gate x reader#gale x reader#astarion x reader#karlach x reader#wyll x reader#Lae’zel x reader#halsin x reader#shadowheart x reader#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader
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Revelations
pairing: Daniel x reader
summary: Daniel casually mentions his wife after 11 YEARS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. Danny Ric comeback. 2025 season, he is back on rbr
request are open pookie masterlist part 2
—————————
Being an engineer for Red Bull was something else. You have been with them since you graduated college, and truthfully you never want to leave, the team is your family, having been with them for 11 years.
You met your husband through your job, both starting at the ripe old age of 23, and despite the potential HR violations, Christian Horner practically set the two of you up on a date after being oblivious about each other’s crushes. Thus began Red Bull’s best kept secret.
“Happy 10 years, Danny,” you kiss your husband, him watching you analyze data. Christian made him promise to never use you as a mole, and the two of you very quickly agreed. Even when he was on Renault and McLaren, work talk was kept quiet. Daniel had a great season last year and was brought back to Red Bull Racing, Christian promoted you to be his race engineer, knowing Daniel would listen to you.
“Happy 10 years, my love,” he hugs you tight. Your children are home in Australia with their grandparents for the weekend.
“Good morning, Ricciardos. Happy wedding anniversary,” Christian greets you, sitting for the pre-race meeting. Christian celebrates your wedding anniversary almost as much as you do, but he is a part of the family. He officiated your wedding at this track 10 years ago today, and he is the godfather of your eldest.
“Good morning, I printed out some data sheets so we can determine strategy. I noticed some unusual tyre degradation, while it could be from the unusually high track temperatures yesterday, it is something we should plan for today,” you start, passing out the papers. Daniel will never not be able to admire you. Sometimes he misses what people say because he stares at you, the exact reason Christian helped get you two together.
“Let’s grab some coffee then go on a track walk,” Daniel holds his hand out to you after the strategy meeting, you happily take it. After your lap around the track, you meet with the other engineers while Daniel warms up and does media. As you are watching the F2 race for valuable data, someone from PR comes over to you.
“Watch this clip,” she says and you oblige.
Daniel, you seem in better spirits than usual, care to share?
I don’t know mate, I am usually a pretty happy person.
Here I was thinking that maybe you finally had a girlfriend
Nah, I don’t think my wife would be happy about that… I wasn’t really supposed to say that. If you are watching, sorry! I’ll make it up to you, love.
Well, I hope there isn’t a couch in your future. Good luck today.
Thanks, but she’s put up with me for 11 years, I doubt there will be a couch in the future.
“Oh, he might have the couch tonight,” you laugh a little, honestly surprised it took 11 years for him to accidentally say something.
“Looking back at all the photos, he is wearing a wedding ring, how did we not see that?” You hear one of the Mercedes drivers say outside the garage.
“You saw the video?” Daniel asks as you playfully glare at him.
“I did. I have a winning strategy for you, so maybe you can move off the couch tonight. Lose and you stay there longer,” you tease. Being his race engineer helps so much because you can subtly say things and no one picks it up, and any interactions between you seem normal.
“Yes, Mrs. Ricciardo,” he smiles and goes to get changed for the race.
Last car in, good luck Daniel
I don’t need luck, I have you guiding my race
Ok, Daniel, whatever you say
The strategy works out well, and planning for the hotter heat was a smart move. Christian hasn’t told you not to race with Max, so you push Daniel for the overtake.
“Come on, honey badger,” you whisper. Daniel has had the better strategy and better pacing, all day so he easily overtakes and keeps the lead through the final five laps.
Okay Daniel, last lap, Verstappen behind, keep the pace.
Does this mean I’m off the couch?
Focus.
Sorry.
And that’s P1, P1 very good, Daniel. Red Bull 1-2. You are officially off of the couch.
LET’S GO! Thank you team! I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Thanks for the brilliant strategy, and for letting me off the couch. Best wife ever.
Mhmm. Happy 10 years. Parc Ferme is clear for you, pull in so the team can celebrate.
Let’s just say that F1 TV streaming your radio broke the internet, and the drivers when they all got out of their cars and into the garages. You followed the team to wear Daniel was parking and the team pushed you to the front. Daniel celebrated there with the team, taking his helmet off and kissing you. The team wolf whistles around you.
“Go to the podium, we will celebrate with you there,” you push him in the direction of where he needs to go. Unknowingly to Daniel, Red Bull chooses you to represent them for the Constructors Trophy.
“Mate, how did you keep that a secret?” Oscar asks Daniel in the debrief room.
“It wasn’t much of a secret. Everyone in Red Bull knows most of the relationship,” Max says and Daniel nods along.
“Honestly, I don’t know how people didn’t know,” Daniel laughs. The FIA tells them to start heading out to the Podium and Daniel searches the crowd for you when he steps out, but can’t find you. He’s shocked but extremely delighted when you step out and stand beside Oscar for the Constructors trophy. The mischievous glint in his eye is a loud warning that you will be sprayed with champagne. You happily stand through the national anthems, clap when Daniel is handed the trophy, and beam with joy as you are handed the second trophy. Soon enough you are presented with champagne and the go ahead to spray it is given.
“Max!” you squeal and hide behind him as you both spray Daniel.
“Quit hiding my wife!” Daniel laughs and in a split second, your cover is gone as Max moves to spray Oscar. You and Daniel both pour the champagne in each other’s mouth.
“Ew, that’s almost as bad as if you guys were to kiss,” Max laughs. Daniel gives you a devilish smile, pulling you close to him and capturing you lips with his.
“The kids are going to be so grossed out,” you laugh and Oscar looks almost horrified.
“THE KIDS?!”
#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo imagines#oscar piastri#max verstappen#christian horner
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