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kika-writes · 12 days

Note

could you please write about lando trying to win back the reader after he messed up with some smut at the end 🫣

You Dumb Bitch - l.n

Warnings: Smut, 18+, angst, swearing, argument.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I usually take requests on my side blog @itsnear-afish.

Lando Norris was a prick, and you’d never hated someone’s guts to the extent where you hated his. And you cursed every single memory and time you’d ever told him that you loved him and oh, how you wished you could take it back. You thought of him as a role model in the past, someone to look up to. Oh how very wrong you were.

y/n

For the last time, Lando, I dumped you because you didn’t treat me how any decent human should be treated. You can’t message me and tell me to ‘come back home’ whenever you see me even remotely CLOSE to a guy. That’s not how it works.

You groaned, sitting in the McLaren garage beside Oscar. This was the fourth time since your break up, which was two days ago, that Lando had frantically messaged you when you were talking to someone. “Lando again?” Oscar said, sympathy radiating from him.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, sliding your phone towards him. He scrolled through, reading the message from his teammate with a soft frown on his face. “Y/N,” he said, looking up at you, “he really wants you back,”. You covered your face with your hands - he was right, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want Lando back ever so slightly. Your phone dinged,

landinho

Y/N, please, I know I treated you wrong, I know and I’m so so so sorry. I’ll treat you right, please, I’ll treat you better.

You really should change his name. “Y/N, please,” Oscar said, practically pleading with you, “for my fucking sake, give him a chance,”. He was right. You knew he was right. But you couldn’t just reply and say ‘oh yes, of course, let’s forget everything’s that’s happened’. “Tell you what,” the Aussie spoke, “Lily and I have already invited Lando for lunch. What about you tag along? You could give him a chance. If you don’t like it, talk to Lily,”.

So you settled on a simple summery dress, white, with matching platform heels. You tied half your hair up and finished the look off with a how. The cafe was small and somewhat empty, a few coupled sat here and there, talking animatedly. Oscar, Lando and Lily were already sat when you arrived, a half-desperate smile on Lando’s face as he tried to get your attention. “Hi,” Lily smiled, gesturing for you to sit. “Nice dress,” Lando said as you muttered a quick thanks.

Lando was wearing a white shirt and pleated dress trousers, curls arranged messily, the same way you liked it. Rings adorned his fingers along with bracelets on each wrist. Oscar and Lily were talking vividly before they noticed you.

“Ah, I see you have added another one,” a throaty Italian accent came from behind you. You turned to see the waiter behind you, eyes scanning your body as you flushed, “a very pretty little thing too, no?”. You could sense the way Lando’s body tensed, it had only been two days since you broke up after all. Oscar sent his foot into Lando’s shin, he was clearly showing way too much disgust at the waiter.

Lando’s jaw slacked as he adjusted the pendant hanging on his chest - four buttons open. “These two are together, yes?” he asked, directing the question to Lando. Absolutely not, it was obvious to anyone. And Lando didn’t fail to see the smirk on the waiter’s face. “No,” he said blandly, eyes blazing. “Ah, then forgive me for such a thing,” he turned to you, “but to ask for such a pretty girl’s number?”.

Your cheeks heated up as your mouth opened, no words coming out. “She’ll do no such thing, thanks,” Lando rolled his eyes as the waiter smiled. “Oh, but she is single, is she not?”. He was right - you were a free agent. You hadn’t noticed Lando’s hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh under his touch. “I’ll pass,” you nodded to the man as he clicked his tongue with dismay. The rest of dinner was spent with you and Lily talking, Oscar and Lando having their own conversation.

You decided to head home, only to realise your taxi had been cancelled. “I’ll take you,” Lando said, lifting his keys from his pocket. “Give him a chance,” Oscar said, taking you aside as you sighed. “Fine,” you said, following Lando. “Why’d you say no to that guy?” Lando asked, shutting your door and starting up his impressive McLaren. “You made it pretty clear you didn’t want me to,” you shrugged. “And why listen to me, Y/N?” he asked, driving down the road, “I’m not your boyfriend,” his left hand was on your thigh, dangerously high.

“Lando,” you gulped, eyes on his hand as he rode your dress up ever so slightly. “Pull up,” you said, eyes on his, almost pleading. Everything about him was hot. And you hated yourself for it, but you needed him oh so badly. “What?” he said, hearing you fully well. “Pull up, Lando,” you were practically begging him, your thong soaking. He hummed, sliding into an empty parking lot, the night time was your cover.

“Need you, Lan,” you groaned, his lips immediately on your neck. “Now you do, hm?” he scoffed, “couldn’t even hold yourself together for one dinner?” he claws at your dress, hand cupping tits breast as you fumbled messily at his trousers. “Oh you’re pathetic,” he lifted you off of him, pushing them down, cock springing against his shirt. “Lando,” you whined hand pumping his length as you coated him with salvia.

“Had your tits out for the whole world to see, didn’t you?” he squeezed on your chest as you placed yourself onto your knees, lips wrapping around his throbbing tip. His words were harsh, but his touch was ever so gentle, moving your hair out of your face. Reaching over your back, he lifted your dress, fingers toying at your clit from behind as your back arched, your moans muffled on his dick.

You bobbed your head up and down slowly as he hummed, “aren’t you a dumb little bitch for leaving me?”. You nodded your head, the feeling sending Lando feral as he plunger his long fingers into you, a shriek against his thigh as he pulled you onto his lap, fingers still in you. “Ride my fingers, ‘s that what you gonna do?” he cackled, “Get yourself off on my fingers?” he swirled around, the feeling was heavenly.

He pulled out, your whines oblivious to him as he opened nis door. “Lan,” you said, eyes wide, your hair messy and mouth wet. “It’s too dark for anyone to see us,” he shrugged, pressing your stomach against the hood of his car so your ass peeked out shamelessly. Your tits pressed onto his bodywork as he lined himself with you, pushing in as you stifled a moan.

“Why the fuck did you even think of giving him your number?” he spat, his pace was merciless. “I didn’t, I didn’t,” you gasped, body shaking with each thrust. “Why? He was good looking,” he cooed in your ear, moving your hair away. “Why?” he demanded again, slamming into you as your mouth fell open. “Because I’m yours,” you moaned, eyes rolling. “That’s right, baby, you’re mine. My dumb little bitch with her pretty wet cunt,” he smirked, “all for me,”.

“All for you, all of its yours,” you muttered, unable to form words. “Good,” he said, sending you over the edge as his jaw slackened, following after you, his hand jumping to your mouth to cover your gasps and shrieks. “Forget even telling the press we broke up,” he said, lifting you into his arms, your back against his chest, head lolling on his shoulder. “‘M yours,” you mumbled, absolutely cock drunk. Thanks to Oscar for convincing you.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando x reader #f1

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cherry-leclerc · 5 months

Text

red diamond ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, arthistory!reader

word count: 2.8k

The story of when you and Carlos met and how the mutual connection of art takes you two on a pleasing journey that will leave you realizing a thing or two.

req!... i did a bit of touch ups from the request i got but i hope that anon doesn't mind AHH. hope you guys like it :)

“No, no, no! Ritorno! Per favore!”

Gasping for air, you curl over as you groan in frustration. Punching your bag, you watch lamely as the cab drives away. It was your own fault - you had overslept - but you seriously thought you would make it on time. You moved to Italy a few months ago to study Art History in one of the most prestigious universities. But along with that, there were lots of things being asked from you; volunteering in museums, endless essays, and ridiculous research that even had you second guessing your choices.

“Stai bene?”

Spinning around, you make eye contact with a tall man who secretly made your blood run cold. You shiver as you nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would just leave you alone. But he doesn’t budge, he only digs a single hand into his pocket. Your stomach drops.

“Am I about to get mugged?”

“What?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you point out his all black outfit and how creepily he kept his hand hidden from plain sight. Bright pink colors his cheeks as he instantly raises his arms up in defense. God no! Oh sh- I’m sorry, he squeaks as he winces. You let out a breath of relief as you rub your arms to help keep warm.

“Do I look like a thief or something?”

Scanning the empty road, you squint as you try your best to find another ride. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea you’ve had to go to the Sistine Chapel at night. “Or something.” He softly laughs. Shimming out of his sweater, he shyly hands it over. “That’s very nice of you, but it’s okay. You’ll get cold.”

“I won’t. Plus, you’re shivering so much that I can hear your teeth chattering. Seriously, take it.” Instead of telling him no, you decide against it since you were two seconds away from getting frostbite. Grazie, you whisper as you tug the sweater over your head. He looks away as soon as your arms swing up and allows him to get a good glimpse of your white lingerie. “What are you doing out alone so late at night?”

Warming your hands deep inside the hoodies pockets, you respond, “I was trying to get a lift to the museum. I have to take some notes for a lecture I have tomorrow morning. I was supposed to go a whole lot earlier, but my nap was longer than I had intended.” He glances at you for a moment before jingling his keys up. You raise a brow.

“Can’t reassure you that the museum will still be open at a time like this, but I could offer you a ride back home.”

Agreeing turned out to be the best thing you could have ever done. Turns out Carlos drove for a living - whatever that means; he had been suspiciously blunt with it - but long before, he had actually studied Art History himself back in Spain. Ever so kindly, he had helped you research about The Creation of Adam. You were extremely impressed when he kept naming facts from the top of his head.

Shutting your notebook, you sheepishly shake your head. “You just saved me from embarrassment in front of my professor. She could be a bit mean when we don’t get our stuff done. Typical Italians.”

“Not all Italians are like that.”

“Sure.” Pause. “But she is.” He nods as he points towards your main entrance. Clapping your hands, you leap up from your couch. “Thanks again for all the help. I really appreciate it. I also appreciate that you didn’t turn out to be some murderer.” He squints his eyes teasingly.

“Thief or murderer, which one is it?”

“Preferably neither.” You open the door slowly as he steps out. “See you around, Carlos.”

“Of course.”

A few weeks later, you’re in a complete hurry. You had overslept, again, and it was looking as if you weren’t going to make it to class on time. You mumble a line of curses at the clear image of Professor Clara lecturing you for the thousandth time. It didn’t help either the way your key got jammed at your quick attempt to lock the door.

“For fucks sake-”

“Need help?”

“Merda!” You drop your coffee as you spin around with a hand over your stomach from the sudden shock. The familiar brunette cringes as he bends down to pick up your thermo.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He carefully takes your bag from your arm. “I just thought-”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off as you share a tight lipped smile. “It’s nice to see you, but I don’t have time for this. I’m late as it is.”

“Typical Italians.”

Your mouth drops open as you snatch your things back from him. “For your information, I am not Italian. Also, what are you doing here?” He beams.

“I have a favor to ask.”

Straightening your posture, you chirp as you take him by the hand towards his car. “Me too. Can I have a ride?”

You knew he’d agree. What you didn’t know was how excited he was to be near your presence. From the moment he first saw you he felt a sort of attraction that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Yes, you were breathtakingly beautiful but there was something about your aura. Everything about you made him crave more. He felt so stupid that it took him this long to see you again.

“Sooo. What do you need?”

“Right.” Turning on his blinker, he quickly glances at the GPS. “Are you free later?”

“Way to make a girl feel special.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “It’s just that there’s this painting…” When he notices your lost expression, he taps his finger desperately against the wheel. “Doni Tondo. Ever heard of it?” The mention has you buzzing as you nod excitedly. “Of course you do. Anyways, they’re holding an auction up for it. I need you.”

“You do know I’m a broke college student who lives off of pizza and pasta, right? If you’re looking for money then I’m just going to let you down-”

“Money’s not the issue.” Flashy, you hiss as he smiles. “I have the money, but I need you. I need a date.” Why? He makes a left turn. “Do you know the meaning behind the painting?” You shake your head. “It depicts the importance of family. A healthy marriage.”

“I’m not following…”

The Spaniard becomes distressed as he sees you’re getting closer to your destination. He presses down on the brake a bit. “They want couples. Wealthy couples. Someone who they know that if they buy this piece of art then it’s going to be in good hands. That it’s going to continue serving its purpose.” He turns to you as he cocks his head a bit. “I need it as a birthday present for my mother. She’s been wanting it for ages and…Please.”

Putting the car in park right in front of the university entrance, he hopes to find an answer in your face as you keep it blank. Instead, you gather your things as you step out of his car. A delicate hand waves for him to roll the shiny window down.

“Pick me up at 8.”

“This is coconuts! I’ve never been inside of the Uffizi Gallery,” you whisper-shout as you cling onto his arm. He smiles down at you as he leads you to the small group of potential buyers. There were six in total - making it more intimate and scary. You were scared. His warm hand makes its way to cradle your face as he leans down to kiss your temple. You physically melt.

“It only costs a couple of euros.”

“You’re killing the vibe,” you groan as you pinch his cheek. He shrugs as he hushes you. Enzo, the coordinator, does a quick introduction with a cheerful voice. Everyone else seems to be listening just to listen, but you and Carlos were picking up on all of it like a sponge. “He’s a genius.” You stare in awe. The brunette stifles a laugh. He’s not the one who created these paintings, you know that, right? You throw a deadpanned glare. “You’re killing it,” you remind him. He pokes his tongue out.

“Why don’t we get started, shall we?”

The rich are animals - you come up with that conclusion quick enough. The sum that flies past their lips has you gawking as you hide behind the Spaniards tall figure. €50,000, a man yells with a blonde clinging onto his arm with a wide grin. You choke.

“Anyone willing to go for more than €50,000?”

“€100,000.”

Spinning your head to face Carlos, you have to stop yourself from calling it off. It wasn’t like it was your money anyways. Mrs. BotchedUpBoobsButThinksItsNormal grows red as she whispers to the bald man. He nods. €150,000!

“€240,000.”

“What?” Distangling your arm from his, you freeze as you feel your fake ring fly off your ring finger. Carlos had slipped in on you - he wore a matching one - as a way to make you both look more of a real couple. A nervous laugh bubbles out of you as you clumsily run over to where it lies. “My apologies!” Enzo bends down before handing it to you. Mio Dio! What a diamond! Red and rare!

Walking over to you both, Carlos takes it from him as he slips it back onto your hand. “Good eye.” But Enzo is basically drooling as he takes your hand to analyze it.

“I’ve never seen one so up close and personal! Very exquisite! You must feel extremely lucky, tesoro!”

“Very,” you cheer as you pull your hand away. “How about we get back to it? Excuse my interruption-”

“So, where did he propose?”

“Sistine Chapel.”

Your cheeks burn up from his words. That was where you were trying to get to the first night you two met. To take notes of Michelangelo’s, The Creation of Adam. Much like now, you two were on a mission to retreat Michelangelo's, Doni Tondo. Enzo swoons as he shakes the Spaniards hand.

“Stravagante! What a love story! I could tell - feel - the chemistry between you two. It’s real.”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Not used to getting such high compliments from someone like you!” Carlos cuts you off as he tugs you closer, large hand laying over your hip. You shiver. He points to the painting. “What do you say?”

“Sold to Mr. and Mrs. Sainz!”

A whole crew follows in black SUV’s as they carry the painting to Carlos’s home, after Enzo had insisted it should be done that same day. Extending your hand out, you admire the ring. “You said it was fake.”

“Did I? I must have forgotten.”

Turning your body to face him, you place a hand on his upper thigh. His body stiffens as he clenches his jaw and squeezes his hands tight against the steering wheel. You let out a cough as you shyly pull away.

“You should have told me. I would have been more careful. Especially since it belongs to your mother.”

“Except it doesn’t anymore.”

Your brows pull in together as your bottom lip starts to wobble. “Did she die?” Taking in your glossy eyes, he shakes his head as he laughs.

“She’s fine.” He doesn’t say much after that as he pulls into a fancy driveway. Jesus, you squeal. He unclicks your seat belt. “My parents are over for the holidays. They’re taking the painting with them when they leave back to Spain. Come meet them.”

You must be in some sort of trance because you let him take you by your hand as he leads you towards the mansion. You wonder why, but when you remember there’s people still around with the painting, you wrap your fingers tighter against his.

“Perfect. Grazie.” The 29 year old admires as he takes a step back to take in the painting. It was gorgeous. You were starting to get jealous that it belonged to someone else. The group of men share a quick exchange of goodbyes before scurrying out the door. Walking back to you, he taps his shoe against your heel. “What do you think?” You scrunch your nose.

“Meh.”

He spins to face you. “You’re crazy. It’s beautiful.” He looks at you as you stare up at the wall where Doni Tondo hangs. He shudders. Tickling your waist he says, “Admit it. Say you love it.” You shake your head as you giggle. I’ve seen better. He gapes. “Liar!”

“I’m not lying.”

He books it to you as you squeal and try to not trip over your dress as you run away. Grabbing you by the waist, he spins you. Admit it! “No,” you wheeze as you grow dizzy and yet don’t want the moment to end. You pull on his bow that matches with the rest of his expensive tux. “I’m going to throw up if you don’t let go!”

“¿Estamos interrumpiendo?”

Pushing Carlos off harshly, the ring flies off your finger for the second time that night. You swallow a curse as you look up to an older couple. They smile fondly. Though you haven't met them before, you are able to quickly identify them as the Spaniards parents. Blood rushes to your face.

“It’s so nice to meet you.” You take a step towards them as you extend your hand. They both shake it as they bring you in for a hug. You let out a small umph. Once they pull away, you pick up the ring from the floor. “I am so sorry about dropping your ring! I know it belongs to you. Carlos told me it was fake and if I had known, then I wouldn’t have flung my hand-”

“Don’t you worry, cariño - it doesn’t belong to me anymore.” Told you, Carlos interrupts. You scowl at him before handing it back to Reyes. She shakes her head as she covers your hands with hers. “Keep it.”

“But that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.” You twirl around as you hand it to Carlos. “Somebody take it, please.” He stares back blankly and you could tell he’s about to say the same thing, but his mother’s words make him take it from you. It’s okay, Carlos. Hesitantly, he obeys. You let out a breath of relief.

Forcing himself to shake off the bitter feeling, he points up at the painting. “Lo hice. ¿Les gusta?” Reyes and Carlos Sr. nod as they hug each other. Nos encanta. She directs her attention back to you.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.”

And it was. It was the true depiction of a family. Carlos frowns. “You said it was okay.” Discreetly, you pinch his hip. He yelps.

“I was only joking, you should know that.” A beat. “I think it's one of the prettiest paintings I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I’m so jealous that you two get to keep it,” you joke as they laugh. Carlos Sr. wags his finger.

“It’s not ours.” What? You and Carlos slump as you look at each other with as much confusion as shock. The older couple laughs. “It was never going to be ours, but we needed a good enough reason for Carlos to pull the trigger. He’s been talking about this painting for as long as we can remember. Isn’t that right?” Reyes nods.

“I knew that if I said I wanted it then he would get it. Either way, if he didn’t buy it then we would have bought it for him.” She walks up closer to you both. “This painting is not just a pretty sight - it’s also the raw interpretation of love. When two people fall in love, things become so crystal clear that it almost has you wondering if you’ve lost your mind. You start to learn that a family is one of the most important things and what better way than to form that with your other half. Marriage is a sacred thing - and sure, it's scary - but it’s very well worth it. You’ll see.”

Her words make your stomach twist as you catch Carlos’ reaction through your peripheral vision. It sort of looked as if he was having some sort of epiphany as he nodded attentively at his parents. For some odd reason, the image of him starting a family of his own with some random woman makes your heart hurt.

“ A few adjustments may be needed, but I have a feeling this ring will find its way to the right girl. Don’t you think, Carlitos?”

Carlos’ eyes flicker to yours as you look back at him. The connection had always been there, but something felt different. Scarily secure. Neither of you were brave enough to ask if this was something you were both feeling. Not yet, at least.

“I think it will.”

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goldsbitch · 5 months

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That one Bologna drive

part 2 to That one Christmas flight (strongly recommend reading that one first! made me so happy you guys liked this one, so let's continue!)

summary: They were suppose to not look for each other. So of course they didn't.

warnings: crushing hard, swear words I guess, typos probably

PS: y'all gonna hate me

Lando really wanted to keep his promise not to search for her online. He enjoyed the mystery and the option to keep this little encounter as a nice "why if". Until he didn't.

With the only information he had being her first name and the fact she was a student at Bologna university his private burner account was truly burning up. He must have seen every account of the current Bologna alumni. It was strange being on the other side of these pseudo stalker fan games. There were moments where he deactivated his account, to stop him from doomscrolling. And then there were nights when he did nothing but that.

He was fed up with the emptiness and shallow lifestyle that followed him. His friends were surprised, when he started to carry classical literature books with him. Since he hated those looks, decision to really keep all of this to himself had been made. It felt like a pose sometimes - he did not have to prove anything to anyone, he was fine as he was. But a strange feeling of wanting something more is hard to navigate when the life around you seems dead set in the current ways.

Weeks passed by with his eyes fixed on one moment in particular. The Imola Grand Prix. It felt like a cruel joke when he realized this circuit was a mere hour away from Bologna.

Lando was not sure if he was supposed to be proud or scared when finally found her account. At this point, it was hard to find a better expert on the social life of that university town. But it would be a massive lie, if he said he did not sprint up from his chair when he saw her in one of her friends insta story. Tagged.

He nearly DM'd her about 20 times. But, this was not the way it was supposed to feel. No. It seemed like a way better plan to ride up to Bologna and hang out at what seemed to be her favorite cafe / bar in the centre. If it was meant to be, he would run into her and it could all be called a second lucky accident.

He had an average start of the season. Maybe Imola would bring him luck one way or the other.

His plan was to ride up there the evening after his first practice - then the team debrief dragged until late hours. He hit the wall on the second day - his team made sure he went through all and every medical check up, no matter how much he protested. Then there was this and than that and suddenly he realized the only possible evening would be the Sunday one. He requested the latest flight him team would allow.

Finishing fourth felt like a joke, even though it was his best finish this season. Missing the podium by a mere second was a cruel of a metaphor.

Once he managed to run through all his duties, exhausted as truly was, he hit the road.

Within a half an hour, he was in what seemed her most favorite cafe, sitting on a bar stool, ordering a glass of white wine.

She was nowhere to be found. His heart jumped when her friends came in and sat outside, lighting their cigarettes. Lando waited. He had to laugh at himself, pathetic as he was right now. By his luck lately, she was probably in her bedroom sleeping, or worse - on a date with some Italian fuck boy. Going up to her friends and asking was absolutely not an option - he wanted to surprise her, not scare her and creep her out.

He left the bar after one hour for a stroll around. He walked around the lively square filled with young people sitting on the ground and having the time of their life, the one he saw hundreds of times on his screen. Who knew, maybe she'd be around somewhere. Jealousy swept over him, envying those who were fortunate enough to keep her company right now at this very moment. After one hour he was back for a second glass. But this time he heard his name being called loudly immediately as he stepped inside. All of his tired muscles tensed up in disbelief. And to continue with the theme of pure luck - it was an ordinary fan. The surprised guy with a Mercedes t-shirt insisted on a photo and signature. Lando smiled, signed and went back to his car.

He probably needed this closure.

Y/N was a person who prided herself on her principles. So when she and the mystery boy from that Christmas flight agreed upon not looking each other up, she kept herself away from doing so. Exam season and university life got in the way, providing a great distraction.

Only when she went on a date with what seemed to be a lovely French physics student, she allowed herself to think back to her encounter with Lando. That's when her internal facade fell apart. She spent the whole date imagining Lando would appear. He'd sit at a different table, right in her view, and then once her date would go on the toilet, they'd run away like little kids would do. They'd sit in a local park and laugh while sharing a bottle of wine. She knew he was somehow famous. He heart crushed at the thought that she was probably overshadowed by girls way prettier than her.

And then, on a random afternoon during a first study session the weather allowed her and her friends to spend outside, in one of the university gardens, one simple conversation she accidentaly overheard from the people sitting nearby, caused her to loose the last chance of keeping the meeting with Lando intact.

"Yeah, Lando Norris. Way hotter than Leclerc, I must say."

"I still don't understand why you love formula 1."

"They just know how to sell the story."

Surely, they were not talking about Lando. "Sure, there must be thousands of well known people called Lando," Y/N replied to her own question.

She took this as a sign, gave up on her principles and went full ballistic on her research. Downforce, penalties, the teams history, qualifying, chequered flag.

Since she was so deep in, keeping her obsession to herself as she had no idea with whom she could possibly share this, she might as well ask her mom for tickets money. The idea that she knew that he was just an hour away and she would miss that was simply not on the table.

Formula 1 race in an event meant for groups of friends to share their passion. So sitting there on the stand alone felt a little bittersweet. She made sure to push down any thoughts about seeing him up close again, let alone talking to him. It was something that half of the people present would try to do. And risking having him look through her, or worse - not remembering her - was not something she wished to live through.

But she cheered for him, she really did. Anytime he passed around her stand she got up, she watched him on the screen during interviews and when it became clear, he would have his best result of the season so far here at Imola, she celebrated with all those around her. Feeling proud that he was doing good. There was an electrifying energy in the air which could not compare to the times she watched races in her room on her laptop. If he had been standing near to her, she knew he would say something to beat himself up for missing a podium. And if she was standing next to him, she would tell him that he is an idiot and should also celebrate.

He looked a bit off during the interviews. Probably the crash few days ago. Y/N stayed sitting there just a bit longer than an average fan would.

Probably to avoid traffic...

part 3

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Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @superlegend216

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bluetimeombre · 4 months

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˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀Wanting you, under the Italian sun

You and Timmy have most been working hard. For the summer, they decide an Italian getaway.

[a little something that's been sitting in my drafts while i work on some other things, i hope you enjoy. I'm thinking of taking some requests, cause i'm lacking inspiration so if that's something you'd like, let me know and maybe, you'll get lucky]

The car dropped you off at your private villa for the weekend, the wheels rolling onto the stone.

You step out first while your beautiful boyfriend, timothee paid and took the bags from you. You both stare at the old but wonder ours villa which would be your home for the summer.

Timmy threw an arm around you shoulder, drawing you in and kissing your temple. It was an endearing move you revelled in. ‘Are you happy, amore mio?’ (My love)

You smile up at him. ‘Very.’

His lips Slide Over yours before leading you over to the door. You guys had already picked up the keys to the place by the owner. All summer, this would be your own private haven.

The two of you were hidden, surrounded by tall trees to shield you and it was at least a mile walk from the nearest town. You had a stocked kitchen, a pool for your own enjoyment and each other.

You and Timmy had only been dating six months, but it felt like the most blissful forever. Already you knew there was nothing more you could want, you had everything. But still, you both had been working hard over the last few months and knew to keep you both sane, you needed to escape.

You had been working hard on a movie you’re especially proud of with Emerald Fennell (the director of Saltburn). It was premiering at the end of the year and was a high talk of Oscar buzz, but it was taxing. And Timothee had been busy promoting dune two and preparing for Bob Dylan. The only time you’ve shared is surprising each other in different countries, stealing moments of hurried movements of bodies in hotel rooms and several hundred facetimes.

You'd both agreed to get away, knowing it could snowball into stress and terrible times. He was one of the biggest stars in Hollywood, a household name and everyone loved him. Meanwhile everyone was looking to you, a trend-setter, so what your next big move would be.

Italy, it would just be you.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

You spent your first week sleeping in, bathing in the sunlight that came through the windows, left open for a cool breeze and curtains blowing gently. His hands would run over your bare skin, tracing marks his lips had made the night before. Then he'd roll on top of you and continue the evening.

His lips trail down your neck, biting and licking over a spot. 'Can't get enough of you.'

Then your mornings continue slowly. Sometimes you'd go for a walk around the countryside, or walk into the town and buy some flowers for the villa and Timothee would insist on buying you pretty things.

'A pretty girl deserves pretty things,' he always said.

So, when you brought a bouquet, you always spared a flower for him.

Most mornings, you'd be found in the pool while Timothee made breakfast, bringing it out for the two of you. You'd sit at the set table, next to each other, your legs stretched into his lap as he traced patterns on your skin. Or his head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.

You guys talked, talked about anything. Your careers, your hopes and dreams for the future, together-obviously. You talked about books and poems and movies and family. It was so easy with him. And at the same time, everything was exciting.

Your bodies knew each other, and in the summer, with so much skin, you had many chances to explore each other, but you also explored each others minds, picking out anything you each wanted to know.

Timothee, on rare occasions, even on holiday, slept in. You spent your time admiring him, his lips parted with soft breaths and his curls fresh and soft. He was naked under the sheets but the white covers were pulled over his chest. He still had an arm draped over your stomach, but it was weak in sleep.

You slipped away easily, taking your books and making yourself coffee and heading to the poolside to relax in the morning glow.

Only half an hour slipped by before you boyfriend wandered out, in his trunks, still stretching out the sleep that held his body.

'Good morning, baby,' you greeted with a smile.

Timothee smiled down at you before urging you to shuffle to the end of your chair. He slipped behind you, legs on either side and arms wrapping around your waist. He kissed one the tattooed marks he left on you last night. That's what he loved about the villa, the two of you wearing barley anything. 'Morning, mon amour. How did you sleep?'

You lean your head back on his shoulder. 'Like a babe.'

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you. It was never quick with him, never swift. His lips were hard against yours, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip to taste the coffee on your tongue.

You pulled back before you could lose your place in your book. But, you pulled your coffee cup from the ground and offered him some.

He took a sip and leant his head on you shoulder, reading over while his hands messaged your stomach and hips. 'Even on holiday you're working.'

'This isn't work, i'm reading.'

'About the architecture of Italy?'

'It's a beautiful place.'

He hummed. 'It suits you, beautiful place for a beautiful girl.' He wears a smirk as his fingers slide over your swimsuit and slowly slip under under it grazes your bare hipbone.

'Timothee,' you warn with the most conviction you could.

'What?' he asked innocently.

You peck him on the lips, pulling away and leaving him to chase them. 'You have a problem.'

'Yes, I do.' Slowly, he slides the book of the chair, leaving it to thud on the ground and he slowly settles you down, as he slides along your back, slowly taking the straps down with his teeth. 'Will you help me?'

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

As the sun sets on your simple day, the two of you sit at dinner outside as always. You listen to Timothee strum the guitar he brought along, mumble along to some songs he'd learnt for Bob Dylan.

Then, he passed it to you, letting you strum what songs you knew from other movies you'd done.

Once you set the guitar down, it fell quiet.

'You know I want to marry you, right?' said Timmy out of nowhere. 'Not here. Not now. When it's right, for you.'

You look at him. You spoke about futures, but never had he said so blatantly that he will marry you. 'What about you?' you ask.

'I'll be ready when you are,' he says, gently brushing your hair behind your shoulder. 'And this could be our lives. Here. Every summer this could be our villa. You and me. Then one day, our kids. Then, when we've made enough movies we'll do what the old movie stars do. Retire, direct or produce a movie or something. We'd be like those cooky neighbours who throw the craziest parties.'

'Cheeseboards,' you suggest. 'Watching sunsets and sunrises, walking to town to buy ingredients for supper. Then complaining about the kids running around our feet while trying to cook.' you say, playing pretend for your future lives.

Timothee nodded, leaning closer to you, like he could see the future in your eyes. 'We'll hide away here, in the trees, and swim together, naked- when we're alone of course-' you laugh at his. 'and we can spend all day together, I'd get to touch you whenever I please,' his hands slowly caressed up your legs, careful and light.

You blush, smiling and resting your chin in the palm of your hands. 'All day every day touching you.'

'Could you think of anything better?' he smirked, lips brushing yours.

'Well, right now, a few things.' you kissed him and kissed him, thankful forever for the Italian sun.

#timothée chalamet #wonka #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee imagine #timmy #timothee x you #love #my dreams #timothee chalamet x reader

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machiavellli · 6 months

Text

Some spicy Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: this was like driving: I don't have a driver license. Seriously like, you absolutely hyped me up for writing this and now I feel like I need to go touch some grass and drink some holy water.

Btw we shouldn't feel ashamed, like the first people ever to write in a language that is more similar to ours, literally wrote about about two nun fuck1ng him 108 times (yes that's what he says) in a week bc they thought he was mute. Like women in the 700 were DYING bc of novels, bc they couldn't never have enough of it and the majority developed a masturbat1on add1ction. We can't be worse, that's just humanity at its core: we are h0rny creatures.

⚠️: The blue parts are from a poem, from the author Giacomo da Lentini and it's called "Meravigliosamente" (| put a translation at the end, because it's ancient Italian and you can't translate it with a normal translator). It's one of my favorites poems ever, it's one the best incarnation of what love feels like. Yeah now the poets are cursing at me from above.

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+!!Breeding k1nk, p in v, ora1 f receiving, pregnant! reader description, nak3d people in general (idk what to put, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED). English is not my first language, therefore you could find some mistakes, please report them to me!

With all being said: enjoy<3

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:

Theo loves to love as we already established.

He loves to give, he would let his blood dry for you.

Therefore he likes to take care of his dear ones, especially you, il suo tesoro.

I also already told you about how he will think about your future together, how he would love to have a proper family with you.

He just wants to have what his family wasn't capable of giving him.

So when the seventh year it's over, it also means that his only obstacle, the one that used to keep him away from his dream, is also over.

Something changes inside of him, un istinto primario prende il sopravvento. He knows that now it is actually possible.

«Meravigliosamente

un amor mi distringe

e soven ad ogn'ora.»

Maybe the first few months it wouldn't be so evident, he would probably keep it for himself.

He wouldn't like to put pressure on you, he couldn't.

But every time you get intimate, tutte le volte che fate l'amore, he can't help but think what it will feel like letting himself go completely.

Letting it happen.

Letting himself have a proper release.

Letting himself paint your inside white.

His warm finding the embrace of your core.

Planting a life, creating it with il suo tesoro, la sua diletta.

That's the ultimate dream e cazzo quanto lo vorrebbe.

«Com'omo che ten mente

in altro exemplo pinge

la simile pintura,

cosi, bella, facc'eo,

che’nfra lo core meo

porto la tua figura.»

But for now he still has to curse within himself, "cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.", imprisoning that release, that dream.

Simply wishing he could stay inside, saving every drop for you.

It's so hard for him to distract himself from the heavy daydreaming.

His mind as pregnant with thoughts as he wish you were.

You would just look so gorgeous round with his child.

And he would easily do everything under the sight of your new silhouette.

(As he wasn't already totally lost in this love, this passion per la sua bella)

This particular scene keeps repeating in his cursed mind:

You, full and completely bare before him sitting on your shared bed, nonchalantly putting cream on every inch of your skin after a shower.

He might be at the doorstep looking from afar or already on the bed

But it always ends with him interrupting you, taking your hands with devotion, already giving you passions with just his eyes, just for him to say: "dimmi quello che desideri e sarà tuo"

And he would literally do anything.

«Al cor m'ard'una doglia,

com'om che te lo foco

a lo suo seno ascoso,

e quanto più lo'nvoglia,

tanto arde più loco

e non po star incluso»

He would let you exploit his tongue in favor of your pleasure, savoring every drop coming from down there.

Growling just at your moist sight

And he would taste you like a starved man.

Over and over again.

On the bed,

On the Couch,

At the dinner table.

Sempre e ovunque.

Holding you still with one of his firm hands on your now round stomach.

Non è mai stato così facile inginocchiarsi e predicare da quando la sua religione, la sua donna angelo, sei diventata tu.

You look like a miracle to him.

And he would absolutely get lost in this strong trance filled with amore, passione e lussuria.

He would delicately lay your figure on the bed, like the most precious Greek statue of a goddess.

But the softness of your skin will make him realize that you are not a vision, but his blessed reality.

Your fullness getting in the way would quickly become the most delicious sight ever in his eyes.

His dead stare penetrating your soul along with his physical body.

He would tell you that his eyes look gone because he is convinced to be already dead and already in Paradise.

So lost in the haze, so convinced of the woman under him to be an angel.

And now, he is making her la madre dei suoi figli, sua moglie, la sua fiamma, da qui all'eternità.

Your legs, now afar from each other, looking like the most rare prophecy.

The softness of your skin feeling like the salvation from every sin.

Your swollen breast moving along his movements in you, rhythmically, like a fine melody.

And if by chance a single tear of your product falls from them, his eyes would shine like the sun during August.

He won't esitate to collect it with his mouth, tasting yet another one of your miracles. He wouldn't hold back the raw attitude taking over his mind, he simply couldn't.

«Assai v'aggio laudato,

madonna, in tutte parti

di bellezze ch'avete.»

When you two got together he thought he couldn't love you more, the same on your wedding day, but now he would simply let this love tear him apart he would still and always pray in your name.

In the morning he would wake you up gently, caressing you cheeks, watching as the eyes that caught his soul slowly open.

He would prepare breakfast for you, taking it directly in bed.

And every day will only be about you and you only.

Need a bath? Already prepped and warm amore.

You have swollen feet? A massage from him is mandatory.

Need to put the nursery together? Consider it done.

And don't get me started on the amount of stuff that he would buy for your unborn child.

He just wants to make sure everything will be ready for the big day.

But that's just a dream, playing tricks with his mind.

«Canzonetta novella,

va canta nova cosa;

lèvati da maitino

davanti a la più bella,

fiore d'ogn'amorosa,

bionda più ch'auro fino»

"Theo, darling, are you still here?" you ask him after two solid minutes of him staring at you, to the point that you were starting to feel suffocated by his gaze.

His pupils blown, and as his breathing increase, he finally snaps back from daydreaming.

But now, now it's been months of this agony, della sua mente completamente offuscata dal desiderio.

He just can't help himself anymore, he is a direct and honest person, he can't continue to keep this away from you.

And with the most serious expression known to mankind and his eyes firmly buried into yours, he doesn't hesitate anymore: "Facciamo un figlio amore, facciamolo adesso, non ne posso più d'aspettare, non posso più nemmeno aspettare che er mondo faccia n'altro giro" he would tell you in one breath.

You kiss him delicately, "Allora non esitare, non aspettare che la luna fugga Mr.Nott"

"Ai suoi ordini Signora Nott"

"Ti amo tantissimo" the last thing he would tell you before finally letting himself completely go, completamente perso in questo amore, si che possa ammirare te, te sospirare e te amare, te soltanto.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Okay so here's the translation of the poem, the canzonetta, which as I said it's called "Meravigliosamente", in English “Wonderfully":

My ask box is open!✨🥂

<- part II

-> part III?

431 notes · View notes

hysteria-things · 3 months

Note

I need a 3rd part with Nate soooo bad

SINFUL DESIRES (part three)

read part one here

read part two here

read part four here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re going on a date this weekend! oh, and the date is your arch nemesis… so you say.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing, friendly banter

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 704

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: second anon i kid you not i wrote this in the afternoon and had it in my drafts to post later and when i saw that in my inbox i was gobsmacked LMAO

ANYWAY thank you sm and here is the awaited part three💕

the mirror placed on the wall next to your front door has your reflection on it as you fix up your hair and lipgloss.

you still cannot fathom that you’re going on a date with nathan doe.

well, he didn’t want to admit that it was a date. he said — and quote — “we should go get something to eat this weekend. dress fancy, too!”

the ringing of the doorbell echoes through the foyer, and you give one last peek at yourself before opening the door.

nate’s dressed in a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and shoes. he has a small bouquet of tulips in his hand, your favorite flowers ever since you were little.

he remembered.

his eyes scan your body that’s hugged with a sage green dress that has some poof to it, daisies embroidered on it. the sleeves are off the shoulders, and gold jewelry decorates your ears and neck. “well, well, well. look who came to their enemy’s doorstep holding presents. how thoughtful.”

“oh, shut up. i’m here to pick you up for our date.”

his hand never left your thigh as he drove to the restaurant, and you hate to admit that the feeling made you blush.

he opens the door for you, and you step out to admire the exterior. the lights around it are dim and the colors of the building are warm earthy colors. it’s definitely an italian restaurant. also your favorite ever since you were a kid.

he remembered that, too.

the hostess brings you guys to the table, and you get settled as the both of you look through the menus.

“you look very beautiful tonight,” he says, peeking at you from above the menu since they're bigger than your heads.

you hide your smile with a lip bite. “thank you. you look handsome.”

he chuckles, tapping your foot from under the table. the waiter comes over, places your orders, and takes the menus.

nate leans on the table to admire you, smiling as you start talking. “do you know what we should do after this?”

“what should we do, pretty?”

man. that nickname’s starting to grow on you.

you grin. “we should go to barnes and noble. i need more books.”

“you don’t need more books.” he rolls his eyes. “nerd alert.”

he lets out a sound of pain when you kick him under the table. “nate, please? for me?” you give him puppy dog eyes along with a fake pout.

he crosses his arms. “we’re not going to fucking barnes and noble.”

you went to barnes and noble. you drag nate behind you by the pinky, smiling when the whiff of books hits you.

you go over to the young adult section, skimming through them to find a book that’ll interest you.

he’s leaning against the bookshelf, staring in awe. he doesn’t understand how one can love books so much, but it’s okay because it’s you.

when you find a book you like, you go over to the counter. “hello!” you greet, placing the object on the counter.

the cashier scans it, tapping a few buttons on the screen in front of her. “that’ll be $21.00.”

you go to reach for your card, but hear a BEEP and look up, seeing nate’s card inserted into the machine. “you already paid for dinner.” you say lowly.

he nudges you with his arm, taking out his card. “do you have a pen by chance?” he asks the woman, using his hand to portray a writing motion.

she gives one to him, and he moves you so you’re behind him. he starts to write something in your book, and you jump to try to look over his shoulder. it’s no use.

“na—”

“thank you.” he smiles, giving the pen back and grabbing your book. “let’s go.”

when you guys get comfortable in the car, you sigh. “what’d you write in it?”

he stares deep into your eyes, taking the book off of his lap and handing it to you without saying another word.

you hesitantly open it, and a small message written in blue pen is revealed on the inside cover.

y/n,

will you officially be my girlfriend?

circle one:

yes or yes

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

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metallicamunson · 7 months

Text

Boyfriend(James Potter x FemReader)

Hi everyone, I finally finished this fic after months of starting it. It’s not my best work but it’s not too shabby considering I haven’t written in a while. Hope you guys enjoy this song inspired fic 🥲🤍

Word Count: 3,099

Warnings: Angst to Fluff, some cursing.

Summary: One where you and James find your way back to each other

——-

If there is one thing you and James are good at, it’s getting under one another’s skin.

It didn’t matter that your relationship ended in your seventh year at Hogwarts. Having the same friend group means seeing each other constantly. Not to mention, the breakup was a mutual decision, deeming that it would be best to be friends while you both figured out what came after school.

Looking back, you can’t help but feel it was a stupid decision. A brash agreement made by two teenagers in love, scared to take the next step in their relationship.

You very much still love James Potter.

And James Potter is still very much in love with you.

Although- neither of you knows it.

Meanwhile, your friends watch from the sidelines, waiting for either of you to make the first move to rekindle your romance.

DATE ONE (James)

It all started when the marauders invited the whole group for brunch. They all sat around the table on the balcony of their home, enjoying fluffy waffles with various fruits spread over the table. You couldn’t help but sneak glances toward James; he looked good. The white T-shirt he wore- accentuated his muscular arms, and his waist in those trousers was a look to die for.

You bit your lip in embarrassment when you caught Remus’ gaze; his eyebrows raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You shook your head, taking a long sip of your champagne.

“Word on the street is that Prongs got himself a date tonight,” Sirius says, nudging James in the ribs with an elbow.

Now that- caught the attention of everyone, especially yours. Your eyes met with James’ who looked like a deer caught in headlights. He let out an awkward cough, twisting the ring on his middle finger.

“Uh- yeah, it’s a girl I met the other day at a coffee shop.”

It suddenly felt like your intestines were twisting into knots as jealousy consumed your now racing heart.

“That’s great, James,” Marlene smiles; she can’t help but look over at you. “What's her name?”

“Hannah, but it’s nothing serious,” he quickly adds, “it might not even go anywhere.”

“Well, you better bloody make sure she has a good time- she’s fine as f-, ow what the hell!” Sirius glares at Lilly, who just kicked him under the table.

“Okay- enough talk about James’ lov-”

“I’m happy for you; I hope you have a splendid time with what’s her face,” you chirp, lips settling into a tight smile. “Maybe this time around, you’ll get the first date right.”

Now that stung, you always assured James that you loved your first date despite the minor- okay, major hic-ups along the way. Truth be told you- love it; you found him adorable when he attempted to fix everything. He thought you’d never want to see him again, but imagine his surprise when you kissed him at the end of your date.

“Her name is Hanna- Lilly; stop doing that!” Sirius exclaims, kicking her back.

“I know you did not just kick me, Sirius Black!” Lilly says, throwing a grape in his direction.

“Will you two stop acting like children,” Remus sighs, “now let's all take a deep breath-”

“You know what, I will have a great time with Hannah! I might take her to that little Italian restaurant with the good breadsticks!” James says, shooting a terse smile your way.

That’s yours and James’ place. The place you both first said, ‘I love you.’

“Sounds like a lovely idea.” You scoot your chair back, throwing your napkin on your plate. “You know what, I forgot I have an errand to run. Thank you for brunch, boys. Bye, everyone.”

You take your bag from the handle of your chair, exiting through the sliding door.

James groans, leaning his forehead against his fist with his eyes closed.

Later that night

“You know what, I’m happy for him. I’m sure he and Helen will make a great couple,” you murmur, pacing back and forth.

“Hannah.” Marlene corrects before shrinking back when you raise your eyebrow at her.

“(Y/n) Why won’t you admit it; you still love him!” Lilly sighs, sitting up from her spot on your bed.

“Me? Lilly, please, we both agreed our breakup was for the best. I’m fine with it.”

“Your eye twitched when you said that.” Marlene laughed.

“It did not,” you lift your hand to your eye. You lay down between the two girls, staring at the ceiling of your room. “Okay, maybe it hurt a little when he said he was taking her to our spot.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that to you,” Marlene says with a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t even know why I care; we broke up almost a year ago. One of us dating was bound to happen.”

—

It turns out Hannah was someone who liked to move fast. James couldn’t have made a faster excuse to leave when she mentioned what names he’d want for their baby.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel ecstatic when Remus told you.

DATE ONE (Y/n)

“I’m sorry, I could have sworn I heard you say (Y/n) has a date with Caleb.” James laughs, walking into the kitchen where Remus and Sirius sit around the island. “You know the number of times he put the moves on her when we were dating; he should give it up.”

“Erm Prongs, I did say exactly that,” Remus chuckles nervously.

James stood still, the fridge wide open; his mind went completely blank for a few seconds. His grip on the handle tightened, grabbing the milk before slamming the fridge door shut.

“Are you okay, mate? I know this is the first date she’s been on since you two broke up.” Sirius slides a bowl across the island towards James.

“I’m fine. (Y/n) doesn’t owe me anything.” He shakes the cereal aggressively into his bowl. “I’m happy for her.”

Remus and Sirius share a look; they know for a fact that he is not okay.

A few days later

You knocked on the door of the marauders, your other hand holding a basket of pastries you made for them. A few seconds later, the door opens.

“Oh, hey.” James smiles, moving to the side to let you in.

You nod your head as a greeting, handing him the basket. “I thought I’d drop these off- Remus has been nagging me to make him my ‘famous brownies.’ I um- also made a few scones in there, or whatever,” you mumble.

You made scones, his favorite. He can’t help but grin; why does his heart feel like it is about to beat out of his chest?

“I smell brownies!” Remus runs down the spiral stairs, snatching the basket from James and rummaging through it. “Why are two just standing there- we have a couch, you know?”

James rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to move into the living room. “How did you smell brownies- your room is at the end of the hall upstairs.”

“You seem to forget about my werewolf capabilities.” Remus points out, moaning when he takes a bite of the brownie. “How’d your date go?”

James visibly tenses, staring at the side of your face. You shift in your seat, picking at your nails. “It went well. He treated me well, paid for dinner, and made me laugh.”

Remus nods in approval, though he can’t help but feel he jumped the bullet, bringing it up with James in the room.

James felt himself spiraling. What he said next wasn’t his finest moment.

“It seems kind of desperate going out with a guy who follows you around like a puppy.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, James,” your head snaps in his direction, a frown now evident on your face.

“I don’t know; I just think he’s a loser- anyone who goes out with him must not have very high standards.”

Your eyes brim with tears, so this is what he thought of you. “You know what, fuck you, James Potter,” you scoff, “I’ll have you know he is not a loser- he's a gentleman!”

“He’s creepy (Y/n); the man borderline stalks you!” James laughs in disbelief.

“You know what, I don’t have to listen to this!” You exclaim, flinging a pillow in his direction. You turn to Remus, “I’ll call you later tonight- I can’t be around,” you gesture with your hands towards James, “him.”

You stomp your way out of their house, slamming the door shut.

“That was a dick move,” Remus says, taking another brownie from the basket.

“I’m looking after her!” James sighs, hugging the pillow to his chest.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re in love with her and got jealous,” he looks over at James.

“What! No! Pshh, our breakup was mutual, remember?”

“Uh-hm, sure, keeping living in denial, prongs.” Remus takes the basket from the coffee table, heading towards the stairs.

“She brought those for all of us, you know!” James shouts from his spot on the couch. He rolls his eyes with a small smile when he hears Remus running up the stairs.

—

James was right. But you’d run around naked in negative-degree weather before admitting that- out loud.

DATE TWO (James)

You found out about his second date through Marlene this time around. It was some girl he ran into at the gym. According to Marlene, she was the one to ask him out, which intrigued James.

You were okay with it. Totally completely fine.

“Do you know where they’re going?” You say, trying to sound nonchalant, flipping through the channels of Marlene’s TV.

“Sirius said they were going bowling.”

“Cool.”

You throw the remote beside you, your mind not focusing on anything but James. Ever since you went on your date with Caleb, the bickering between the both of you only intensified. The two of you could not be in the same room with each other without one or the other making a snide remark.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhm, he’s a single man; he can do what he wants,” you murmur, tugging the blanket under your chin.

—

“So how’s it going between gym girl and James?” you murmur, sectioning Sirius’ hair in half to start braiding two braids.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t talked about it much,” he shrugs.

You frown; this could mean one of two things. They either hit it off and are keeping their relationship a secret. Or it went so bad that James refuses to speak about it.

“Ow! I would still like to have my hair intact after this love.”

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,” you chuckle nervously, scratching his scalp softly.

“He talks about you a lot, you know.”

Sirius glances up at you, a knowing look in his eyes.

“I- we can’t stand each other. We can’t even have a normal conversation before an argument starts.”

“(Y/n), I love you, so when I say this, it’s with all the love in the world- you and James need to get your heads out of your arses and talk about it.”

—

You stand before the boys’ apartment; you raise your knuckles towards the door before pulling back. You’ve been standing here for five minutes- trying to find the courage to speak to your ex-lover. Do you still love him? Of course- you do. Why else would it hurt so much when he goes on these dates? What if he tells you he doesn’t want the same?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door. You rock on your heels, biting your lip nervously.

The door opens, revealing a woman who is the definition of a Vogue magazine model. She has straight blond hair, she definitely seems like she works out, and the band tee she wears- wait a minute.

Your breath hitches once you recognize it; you’ve worn that shirt one too many times after spending the night with James. You can feel the lump in your throat start to form.

“Hey, are you okay?” The blond asks, worry laced in her tone.

“Oh! Sorry, I got the wrong apartment,” you smile tightly, turning to walk away.

Yeah, James Potter definitely moved on, you thought.

DATE TWO (Y/N)

“He’s a good guy! Come on (Y/n), let me set this up!”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for another date- Lils, the last one was a total disaster,” you murmur.

“To be fair, we did warn you that Caleb wasn’t a good idea- plus it’s been five months,” Lilly hums, poking your cheek.

You bat her hand away, sending a playful glare her way, “Fine.”

“You won’t regret it! I promise Mason is worth it!” Lilly squeals, clapping her hands together.”

—

Lilly was right- he’s perfect.

Mason Moriarty has a great job at the ministry that pays him a hefty number of galleons. His smile is one that would make all the girls swoon. He’s the kind of guy who holds the door and respects women.

He made you laugh and paid attention to what you were saying. Mason Moriarty was respectful and made you feel comfortable.

One date turned into two, and two turned into three.

He was perfect- so what was that nagging feeling in your heart?

—

Word spreads fast in the friend group. So it came as no surprise that James got word about you and Mason.

“Who even is that guy- he seems like a tosser,” James grunts, bringing his beer can to his lips. “I mean, she can do so much better!”

Sirius rolls his eyes, putting his book down. He couldn’t get any reading done with James’ constant outbursts.

“He’s a cool dude, he treats our (Y/n/n) well.” Sirius reaches over the coffee table to get himself a can. “At least pretend to be happy for her.”

“I can be happy for her! I just think he isn’t the one for her! The guy’s last name is Moriarty, (Y/n) Moriarty, sounds stupid!” James groans, throwing his head back on the couch.

“Enlighten me then, James- who should she be with then,” Sirius quirks an eyebrow.

“I don’t-” James sighs in frustration, “(Y/n) deserves someone who will love her unconditionally, someone who will cut the crust of her sandwich because she hates the texture. She needs someone who will hold her hand when she sees a pigeon because; for some odd reason, she finds them terrifying. It needs to be someone who will run to the nearest pharmacy to grab medicine when she’s sick because god knows she won’t go to the doctor’s office.” James rants, pulling at his hair.

“And Mason can’t do that?” Sirius pushes, a smirk forming on his lips, one he tries to hide with his hands.

That was the final straw.

“No Padfoot! Moriarty can never love her the way that I do!” James blurts out, throwing his empty can on the floor.

James’ eyes widen in realization, mouth opening, and closing with no words.

“Bingo! What are you going to do about it, Potter?”

“Nothing, there’s no way she still feels the same.”

“Wrong,” Remus waltzed into the room, sitting next to James, “You two are so in love with each other it’s sickening.”

James shakes his head in confusion, his heart racing at the possibility.

“I mean, for fucks sake, Prongs, are you blind?”

“I’m an idiot,” James groans, running his hands down his face. “Fuck, what if I’m too late.”

“I heard from a little birdy, that she cut it off with Mason.” Remus hums, a smile tugging on his lips.

James practically jumps up from his spot, an unsure look on his face.

“Go get your girl James.”

The Reconciliation

You squint your eyes, slipping on your slippers, the constant knocking on your door waking you from your slumber. You pause at the threshold of your bedroom, taking a vase from your desk. Warily, you look into the peephole of your door, sighing in relief when you see James. You open the door, a million thoughts running through your head.

“James, what- it’s two in the morning; what are you doing here?”

“I’m still in love with you,” James rushes out before he chickens out.

Your eyes widen, lips parting, “What-”

“I know this is coming out of nowhere, but I need you to know how I feel. I know it’s selfish, and Mason is in the picture- or not, I don’t know, Remus said he wasn’t. Anyway- I don’t think you ever left my mind (Y/n) from the day we broke up. I felt this void within me. The dates I went on felt wrong- it felt like somehow I was betraying you,” He chuckles breathly. “And when I found out you were starting to date, I was jealous- god that sounds immature. The point is, I thought our breakup was for the best- but (Y/n) I think I was just scared that I was falling more in love with you. I still love you, and I don’t know if I’m making a fool- out of myself- but I know I had to try and fight for you.”

“James-” you whisper, your lower lip trembling, tears welling in your eyes, “I love you.” You wrap your arms around his neck, careful with the vase in your hand. “I missed you so much, I know we were never really apart, yet you felt so far away.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” James laughs, his arms find home around your waist.

“We’re fools,” You giggle, “We should have never broken up, I was only kidding myself by thinking I would ever get over you, Jamie.”

“Yeah well, I’m never letting you go now you're stuck with me, sweetheart.” He grins.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Potter,” You hum, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“Not to ruin the moment- but why are you holding a vase?”

You smile sheepishly, “I thought you were some kind of thief.”

“I am- a thief who stole your heart,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“You are so cheesy,” you laugh, tugging him into your apartment and closing the door behind you. You place the vase on a nearby table before turning to face James again.

“You love it.”

“Yeah, I do- now come over here and kiss me.” You grin, rocking on your heels.

He beams, placing his hands on each side of your face, pressing his lips against yours.

Mission Accomplished

Fin

——-

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter #james potter angst #mauraders #harry potter #James #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #mauraders era

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charliehoennam · 2 months

Text

the dinner party

A/N: Filling out this request. Enjoy!

Pairing: David Loki x F!reader

Summary: David and his girl spice things up at her boss's annual dinner party.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ ONLY. Language, unprotected p in v sex (wrap your willy, kids), oral play, cumplay, not proofread

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Parties in general were David’s least favorite things. He rarely gets time off and the last thing he wants to do is spend it sharing you with people he doesn’t know.

Sure, they were your co-workers and superiors and he trusted you more than anyone in the world. But you looked way too sexy to be at this stupid dinner party.

He wanted to have you to himself tonight. He didn’t want to socialize; his social meter was already naturally low and he’d been there for almost half an hour now, enduring the small talk with the strangers you introduced him to and all their invasive questions about the job he mostly just didn’t want to think about.

You noticed his discomfort when he excused himself to get more wine after one of the most obnoxious guys of your workplace asked him what the most disturbing thing he’d seen on the job was.

It was disturbing for a reason and he wished he could forget it.

“Uhm, that’s rather a hard question to answer. Guess I’ve just seen too much” David answered curtly. “Excuse me, I ran out of fuel” he confirmed raising his glasses.

You co-workers laughed it off with his little joke, but you knew he wasn’t trying be funny, so you followed him into your boss’s kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t-“ you started, regretting that you had dragged him along.

“Not your fault, babe. People are just assholes sometimes.”

“Just 30 more minutes? I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do, but I have to. You know how my boss is. He takes it personal if we don’t show up. I don’t wanna be iced out at work.”

“What if I planted drugs in his house?” he smirked picking at the charcutarie board on the kitchen island to pop some salami into his mouth. “Ooh, that’s good salami. I think that’s salami, at least.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course, I am. But he is a douche. I’d be doing you a favor.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but this job pays for all the sexy lingerie I wear for you.” You smirked filling up both your glasses. “And the hours are really flexible too.”

“Almost as flexible as you” he smirked back idling around the kitchen. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise. I know it’s important. It’s just fucking boring as shit. If I have to hear your boss talk about his Italian inspiration for the house, my head might actually explode. I can literally feel the vein in my head throb every time he says ‘venetian’.”

You chortled with a sip of your wine.

“I know he’s a lot to handle, but it’s just for 30 minutes. And I already introduced you to everyone, so we can just hang out with my friends out back until then. They’re pretty normal, like us.”

“I can’t believe it’s only been half an hour. It feels like it’s been at least 3 hours.”

“What can I do to make it easier hm?” you smiled rubbing your palm against his chest.

“Well…” he smirked lowering his gaze to scan your body. He loved how your black dress hugged your curves just perfectly. “There is one thing that would make me really happy. You know I have a sweet tooth, right?”

You narrowed your eyes with a mirroring smirk.

“You want dessert already?”

“It’s the best part of the course, if you ask me.”

“Fine. But we gotta keep it quiet” you nodded with a mischievous smile.

"Wait. Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief. He didn't think you'd actually agree.

"Yeah, I am. This party is a total dud. I wouldn't be here unless I had to. Might as well make it fun," you smiled nonchalantly, dipping your fingertip into your wine and dabbed the red liquid on his white shirt.

“Hey! What’d you do that for?”

“You’re a cop, David. Rule number one: always have an alibi. And I’m not gonna ruin my dress. It was more expensive than your shirt.”

“Ey, I paid 10 dollars for this shirt at the good-will.”

“My point exactly,” you smirked taking his hand to lead him out of the kitchen and back into the crowd. “You’re such a klutz, Davy. Let’s try to get you cleaned up.”

Fighting back the excited smile was hard to do as you led him to the upstairs floor. Running off to a secret place to do secret things had you both feeling like young teenagers in love again.

“Yeah, ” he smirked with suspicious eyes squinted at you as you weaved through the crowd of employees. "Accident happen."

If there was one thing David loved more than you and his job, it was going down on you. And, if that wasn't enough already, it was one of the many things that he excelled at.

"C'mere, beautiful" he smirked turning you around once you'd locked the door.

His hands snaked around your hips as lips collided with you in a feverish kiss, hiking up your dress. Your lower back met with the marble countertop of the sink in the lavish bathroom.

David opened his eyes to look at the reflection of your ass, beautifully on display in your black lace panties.

"You look so pretty, baby" he groaned at the twitching of his hidden cock.

Your cheeks bloomed with warmth as praises spewed from his mouth.

Once his knees met the floor, he wasted no time getting to work. David loved seeing you in black lace. He loved your pussy even more.

His moans were muffled as he buried his mouth over your clothed cunt, nose rubbing and circling your sensitive nub as he inhaled your delicious scent.

"Got this pretty pussy all dressed up for me too huh?" he asked with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

His hot breath and warm tongue nuzzling your cunt had your panties growing wetter and wetter with a combination of his saliva and your slick.

You moaned as your hand reached for his head, legs welcoming his mouth as you sat back on the edge of the countertop.

With a hand wrapped around your thigh, he hooked a finger under the lacy fabric and pulled it to the side in order to display your juicy cunt to him.

"Ain't nothing sweeter than this right here."

His open mouth quickly latched onto your exposed pussy. His tongue eagerly licked up the sopping mess that only flooded from your spongy walls.

His thumb circled over your delicate clit as his tongue stroked over your plushy folds up and down, over and over again, sending electricity throughout your body and curling your toes.

The sticky sounds of your incredibly wet cunt and his mouth along with David's expertly technique altering from your pussy, down to your puckering asshole, had your head hanging back. Heat burned in your cheeks as you wondered if anyone could hear you from the outside.

David's eyes were locked on your contorting reaction, coming undone with your mouth hung open in an ecstasy only he could provide. So desperate for your release, you ground your hips against his face, caressing his head of luscious hair as you chased your high.

Your spine arched forward as you relished every greedy movement of his flickering tongue, panting when his thumb slowly sped up its circling over your tender clit.

David's low chuckle at your frantic chase for climax sent chills over your hot skin.

"D-Dave, I-I'm gonna-" you gasped, trying your best to stay as quiet as you possibly could.

"Cum for me," he ordered adding more pressure and speed to his teasing thumb.

The blinding white light of sheer pleasure rippled through your body, letting it tremble under his unyielding mouth. Despite your attempt to shut your thighs, he chuckled darkly as he forced them apart, pushing you further back and folding you over on the countertop until your knees met your chest and your back met the cold surface of the mirror behind you.

“Look at this pretty pussy, all soaked just for me.”

With a teeth baring grin, his long fingers glided easily between your slick folds, toying with the sensitive mound of flesh.

“Came so good for me, didn’t you? Gonna let me taste it?”

You nodded eagerly at him unable to speak with heavy breaths, trying to ease yourself from your newfound high.

“Be a good girl and spread your pussy for me then" he ordered politely quickly bringing your hands under your thighs to pull your pussy apart to hold it open yourself in the raunchiest way.

“Atta girl” he grinned maliciously.

His tongue shoved into your soaked hole, delving deeper and deeper into your open cunt. David was addicted to your pussy, to your taste. He loved how wet you could get, how much of a mess you could make just for him to see.

You watched as he fucked you with his tongue, lapping at your pulsing walls as he impatiently licked for every single drop.

"Baby, fuck me. Please. I need your cock in me so fucking bad right now" you begged, reminded by his tongue of his dick.

He didn't hesitate for a single moment before unbuckling his black pants to let his throbbing dick bounce freely from its confines. He spat into his hand and wrapped it around his cock to give it a few tugs, eyes hungrily staring your gaping pussy.

"Jesus fucking Christ" he groaned as the saliva and his pre-cum mixed and coated his heavy cock.

Aligning his heavy tip´to your welcoming pussy, he slid it up and down your swollen slippery lips to gather your slick. You hissed as he tapped it over your sensitive clit, making your hips buck as they chased his cock eager to fill up your pussy with his sizeable dick.

He would've teased you far more if he hadn't remembered where you were, so instead, his tip slipped past your folds and into your warm wet cunt.

He pushed in and pulled out slowly at first, to wet his dick enough until he could glide in and out of you with ease. You both watched completely hypnotized by your pussy lips wrapped around his heavy member with a shiny glazed hug.

"Keep this pussy open for me, baby girl. Take it all in. I know you can take it."

You felt so wonderfully full and stretched with his thick, long cock slowly moving inside you. Every ridge and vein of it massaged your walls in the perfect way, eliciting even more wetness from your body.

"Ah, fuck" he growled lowly unable to tease.

He needed to cum so badly. His dick was already throbbing and aching for release. Not to mention that eventually someone would knock on the door or come looking for you.

His belt buckle jingled as his hips began to piston against yours. His large hands moved to your chest, pulling your bra and dress to watch your breasts bounce freely with his every thrust.

"Ain't gonna last long like this, baby" he panted softly as he mumbles against the smooth calf of your leg.

He pounded balls deep into you quickly, watching your slick lips squelch around his cock as the sounds of wet slapping skin echoed softly in the bathroom.

It was just too much for him. Your perfectly drenched pussy hugging his cock beautifully, his balls smacking around your ass cheeks, your breasts jiggling to his rhythm.

It all overwhelmed him, bringing him to finally cum heavily into your womb.

Your walls squeezed around his cock, milking him of every single drop until he had to force him to pull out from the oversensitivity of it.

A couple of strands of his pearly white cum squirted over your lips as he gave his final couple strokes to his sensitive tip, aimed at your gaping pussy hole to fill it to the brim.

He smirked proudly as he admired his white load inside your cunt, overflowing like a waterfall from your used pussy and down to your pulsing asshole.

"You're gonna keep this pussy just like this, alright?" he smiled darkly as he gently moved your lacy black panties to cover your cunt and soak in all your - and his - juices.

"No cleaning up. I want to feel it when you walk around out there."

#david loki x reader #david loki x y/n #david loki x you #jake gyllenhaal #detective loki #detective david loki #detective loki x reader #detective loki smut #david loki prisoners

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drdemonprince · 5 months

Note

This is kind of late re: the culture conversation but I feel like I have a kind of weird perspective on this general idea of cultural appropriation re:embodiment. I’m Italian American, and indigenous South American but I was born in the US and when we immigrated to the US my South American ethnic group is so small and my parents were in Japan so long they culturally assimilated and I was raised in the Japanese immigrant community and literally went to Japanese day school.

This tension between who is “allowed” to participate in a culture or identity has always been deeply fraught for me in a way that has kind of bulldozed my understanding of cultural ownership. Not being “ethnically” Japanese has led to many people deciding for me what the appropriateness of my cultural participation is. And being indigenous South American complicates my relationship to standard cultural alignment with latinidad more broadly.

I have a lot of friends who are white USAmericans who are progressive but also deeply concerned about the boundaries between themselves and the cultures they studied in college and the countries they taught English in as migrant workers. I had a conversation with one of my friends who worked in China and he was talking about how he didn’t mind being legally disenfranchised because he was a white American migrant and didn’t feel it was necessary for him to have the same legal rights as Chinese citizens. And I had to point out that he was living in the same disenfranchised conditions as any other immigrant and there was no reason for him to downplay it. I don’t think it’s disingenuous or appropriative for him to have Chinese art in his house or cook Chinese food or participate in Chinese culture. Not because he lived there or had a complicated legal status in the country or somehow crossed some imaginary threshold of true and genuine cultural appreciation but just because culture is what you do its not a given fact of who you are. It’s a seamless part of his life and just because he sought it out doesn’t make it less genuine to me.

I think because of my complicated upbringing I have spent a lot of time with people between cultures, reconnecting, adopting new ones and feel very strongly that if there is no biological tie to culture people can incorporate whatever they want into their lives and it’s a VERY US American perspective to be so self critical and political about it.

And this isn’t to say cultural exploitation doesn’t exist but when it does happen it’s usually underpinned by a capital motivation to sell an idea of a culture and not a weird white guy who got really into Buddhism or a several generations totally removed Italian American incorporating Panettone into their Christmas celebrations. When people cross the line it’s cringe and inauthentic but it rarely goes beyond that.

When I was in college I had a professor who studied my indigenous ethnic group and I took a couple of his classes. Once I brought my grandmother and mom to campus to speak with him in our indigenous language, and my grandmother spoke to him for three hours straight. He was a white man from Michigan but also one of my only connections to my culture, a person to practice and share my language with, to connect with my family. And all because he thought South American indigenous groups were interesting and got a job with Amnesty International to investigate the dictatorship to get down there. He is the kind of man people wag their finger at and he was one of the most important cultural elders I had.

This is a long way to say basically I just really believe we are allowed to make our lives whatever we want and make ourselves whatever we want. The phenomenon of white Americans in search of culture exists for the reasons you listed below and outside of these political discussions about its appropriateness and its moral boundaries there are just people doing and embodying that cultural fluidity and exchange for a million different reasons that aren’t worth litigating. The small town gay kids who move to big cities and hang out in the leather scene, getting into punk or hardcore or goth scenes, even converting to a new religion function under the same mechanism of the kind of cultural immersion that gives you access to the community and membership in the culture that weebs who immigrate to Japan to teach English, or international students coming to America, or inter cultural or inter faith partnerships undergo.

Anyways thanks for listening to my treatise. So to whoever’s reading this take the dance class or the traditional craft class or learn a new language or learn to cook new kinds of food make all different types of friends and make new traditions out of old ones or old traditions out of new perspectives. Culture isn’t a sacred part of who we are it’s a sacred form of the things we do and embody and connect with others through :-) <3

this is an incredible, wise, compassionate message. Thank you so much for sending it. You've said so much here about the problems of tying cultural identity to a race, ethnicity, or blood, or to regard it as static or isolated. And how much the standard racist American conceptions of racial and ethnic identity make structural discussions about disenfranchisement worldwide hard to have. Said so so much far better than I could, thank you!!

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i-was-today-years-old-when · 9 months

Text

i learned about the most ridiculous "crime" someone was been reported to the authorities for

This harmless-looking fellow, Guido Menzio, was flying to Syracuse from Philadelphia.

Once settled into his seat, the busy 40-year-old took out his work papers and got to working.

His seatmate, a blonde-haired white woman in her thirties, later claimed she had tried to strike up a conversation with him but he was evasive.

She took a look at what he was writing. Fear struck.

He was working on some cryptic plans! Strange letters and symbols she couldn't understand.

She bravely approached a flight attendant, claiming she felt too ill to fly.

She slipped her a note, warning her about a suspicious man working on something in a foreign language.

The woman was then discreetly escorted off the plane, where her suspicions were entertained for many minutes while the plane waited on the tarmac.

Then Menzio was also taken off-board and questioned.

And so what should have been a quick 40-minute flight ended up being delayed for two hours.

But what was he working on?

Maths. Differential equations.

And he wasn't “Muslim” or “Arabic”. He was Italian. An Italian Ivy League professor.

Why did they make such a big deal out of it?

It wasn't really about the “foreign language”. It's about the fact that he was reported on suspicions of being a terrorist. Airlines security take that seriously and they investigate thoroughly.

After they established he was not a threat, they let him reboard. The woman refused to reboard, and opted to take the next flight. Hopefully her next seatmate won’t do something crazy like use the calculator app around her.

I understand math can be scary for some people, like that brave lady. Who does this guy think he is, doing math where anyone could see him?

Follow my Twitter/X account for more: www.x.com/toastbutteregg

I follow back!

#today i learned #facts #truth #history #math

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maseyfilms · 1 year

Text

WILDEST DREAMS — C.L16

summary. based on wildest dreams by taylor swift

pairing. charles leclerc x female!reader

w.count. 5.0k+

warnings. bad english; not proofread; fluff; angsty if you squint; cursing

a/n. this took me so long to finish, im not even kidding when i say i spend two or three months doing it (or even more). anyway, hope you like it !

He said, "Let's get out of this town

Drive out of the city, away from the crowds"

I thought Heaven can't help me now

Nothing lasts forever

But this is gonna take me down

september 2019; Italy, Monza

sunday- race day

'he won in spa, he wins in monza!

Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2019 italian grand prix!'

You were stunned, or surprised, actually the feeling was confusing for you. You were so happy and so proud of a person you met less than one week ago. About a sport you have never watched in your life.

Maybe it was the vibe. The crowd of red caps and red ferrari flags. Smokes of the italian flag colors making the view even more enchanting.

'Il predestinato!' they screamed. Even with your horrible italian you managed to understand what they were saying.

They were screaming about Charles, your Charles.

You were smilling widely even not knowing anything was going on around you, just that Charles won the race, your first race, the one he begged you to be there. The thought made your heart beat a little bit faster.

You heard a notification sound coming from your phone as soon as you were out of the paddock, heading to the parking lot, it was a message from Charles saying to meet him at his room when you arrived at the hotel.

A few minutes later the door from his bedroom opened revealing a very happy Charles, no longer in the well-known Ferrari suit, now dressed in simple black denim shorts and a tight white t-shirt, sweaty skin mixed with the champagne from de celebration. You would cringe at the view and probably would think it was disgusting if wasn't Charles.

‘Hey, il predestinato’ You joked and and gestured for him to seat by your side on the edge of the bed.

'How do you know about that?" he asked knitting his eyebrows together, dragging himself towards the bed and talking a seat beside you.

‘The people were saying it there' you smiled widely and glanced at the window, 'can't believe you actually won the first race I watched’.

‘How do you feel about it? don’t know, maybe you win every race and I’m just being stupid’ he chuckled.

‘I don’t, but I feel happy though, mainly 'cause you were watching.’ He smiled, red into his cheeks as he admitted, the same red appearing to your own at his words.

'and… I was thinking maybe since I won I could take you out?’ he asked, biting his lip to contain the huge grin that was trying to break out.

‘I would like that Mr.Leclerc’ You said getting up from the bed. ‘I’ll just get my stuff’ and you leave a small peck on his cheeks.

‘So where we’re going?’ You questioned and turn your head towards Charles who was focused on the steering wheel and the street.

‘I’m not telling you, I said it was a surprise!’ He giggled and you rolled your eyes.

‘Here we are’ He parked the car in front of an empty beach. The sun was setting so the sea looked more gorgeous than normal, the sunlight meeting with the water giving a beautiful sight.

‘It’s wonderful, Charles’ You said as you both walk towards the sand.

‘You like it?’ He asked and you guys sat on the sand, you rested your head on his shoulder, admiring the handsome view in front of you.

‘I love it, really’ You turn to look into his eyes and leaned, joining your lips on his for a soft kiss, the two smiling like idiots and when you separate, your smile grows even wider as you murmured a small ‘Thanks for bringing me here.’ against his lips.

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

I can see the end as it begins

My one condition is

september 2019; Italy, Monza

some days before the race

‘Can you hold the door for me?!’ Charles heard as soon as he enters the hotel elevator, quickly putting his arm between the door so it doesn't close. A woman holding lots of bags, some with strange shapes, enters the elevator. ‘Thank you’ She smiles.

‘What floor are you going to?’ Charles asks, seeing she was too busy holding all the bags in her arms to remember - or manage - to press the button for the floors. She answers and he gets surprised since is the same floor he’s staying. ‘So what’s all that stuff for?’ He tries to bring up the subject.

‘Oh it’s work stuff, I'm a photographer’ You kindly smile at him.

‘That’s nice! Do you always come here to take photos?’ His cute french accent made you softly laugh and look down your feet.

‘Every year I come here to Monza to take some pictures, it is a very beautiful place, especially at this time of the year’ You glance at the set of elevator buttons and realize that he has only pressed your floor number, concluding that his room is on the same floor as yours, for some reason you smiled at that and changed your focus to his face. His green eyes already looking at you and his handsome face made you lower your head again to hide the red that would probably appear in your cheeks, thing that didn’t go unnoticed by Charles.

‘I’m Charles, by the way’ He introduced himself, smirking a little.

‘Y/n’ And shy smile formed on your lips as you responded.

The elevator arrives at your floor and you say goodbye to each other, taking different ways to your rooms.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

september 2019; Italy, Monza

some days before the race

You're not the type of person to fall in love in first sight, or feel some type of connection with someone in less than one month. Coming from some traumatic relationships you had some problem with trusting people. With Charles there was something weird, it was different.

‘So, you never told me why you’re here’ You turn to face him, frown on your face.

You were sitting on the edge of a deck, it was a warm, starry evening. You met after dinner and decided to go for a walk around the town.

‘Work things’ He answered. Looking down at his swaying feet almost touching the water then looking at you.

‘What do you work with?’ You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear and smile at him.

‘I’m a formula one driver.’ He starts, ‘It’s racing weekend’

‘Oh, that’s awesome!’ You added, ‘My dad never missed a race when I was a kid, but I never watched one.’

‘Really?’ You confirmed nodding your head and laughed at his surprised face.

‘What? Don’t look at me like that!’ You complied at his mocking face. ‘I’m not the only person in the world who never had watched a formula one race, don’t judge me.’

‘You should go watch this one then, see me winning, you know, everything has it's first time’ Charles invited with a smirk.

‘Oh so you’re that good you’re already presuming you’ll win?’ You teased back. ‘Well, so you better be right, I don’t wanna be disappointed’ You joked while fixing the strap of the blue summer dress that hugged your body.

‘You won’t’

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

september 2020; Italy, Monza

race week

A year has passed since you and Charles saw each other for the last time and he misses you.

It was Monza GP week and – unfortunately – Charles was having dinner with an italian friend of Pierre. The french driver said he should choose between call you and say he misses you or forget you and meet someone new, the first option was nothing a sober Charles would choose to do so he chose to - at least try - meet someone new.

The 'meet someone new' mission was being a total failure, even with a nice girl in front of him he couldn't stop thinking about you. He felt guilty about it, but he couldn't help it when the girl only talked about herself, and he was thinking of how you always made sure of not being the center of the conversation.

The girl was nothing like you, not that it was a problem, but for him it was. She was nice, pretty, but not as pretty as you, kind, but not the same kindness as you. And the falseness in her laughing just made it even worse for him .

He was thinking of your laugh and how he missed it, the thoughts sinking in so deep he could have sworn he heard your laughter coming from somewhere in that fancy restaurant.

Lifting his gaze from his plate to where the laughter had come from, he realized that he wasn't going mad and that he actually heard you laughing.

He was breathless to see how you looked, prettier than you were a year ago when he met you if that was even possible. Something about you was different, maybe your hair was short, you looked more mature, your hair pendent up in a way you never did before, but there was still Y/N, but not his Y/N anymore.

You were playing with some children beside you, your eyes were almost sparkling, vibrant smile and oh, the prettiest red lips he had ever seen in his life. The sight made his heart clench and he smiled for the first time that night.

The girl sitting across from him noticed and dramatically turned her head to see what it was he was looking at. When she saw you, in disbelief she got up from her chair and stormed off shouting something in italian about if he didn't want to have dinner with her, he should have told her before she spent two hours getting ready, nothing he would have paid attention to, because the girl's volume had drawn attention from the entire restaurant, including you and the people at your table.

When he looked back at you, you were already looking at him.

You got caught off guard when you saw him, not because of the girl's behavior, but because you were seeing him after so long. You sent him a shy grin and a silent 'hey', to which he responded with a wave of his hand and a embarrassed smile before paying the bill and following the girl for apologises.

When he was out of the restaurant he looked back at you through the window. You were laughing, as always, while sipping your wine and talking to your family. It was one of the most beautiful scenes his eyes were ever allowed to see, he saved it as a picture in his memories.

I said, "No one has to know what we do"

His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room

And his voice is a familiar sound

Nothing lasts forever

But this is getting good now

september 2019; Italy, Monza

sunday- race day

You came back from the beach at 9pm and you felt strange because you were making out with a person you met just some days before, and that was new, but you also felt good cause that just felt right. He felt right.

‘Mine or yours?’ You whispered trying to free yourself from his kiss, stumbling when the elevator reached your bedrooms floor and Charles wouldn't stop kissing you.

‘Yours is closer’ He mumbled against your lips, pulling you by the waist towards your room.

You manage to get the door card out of your back pocket and open the door, Charles instantly guiding you inside and slamming the door shut with his foot.

He kissed you hungrily and desperate, but also soft and loving, you had never felt something like this in all your relationships. Charles felt the same, he was kissing you like he would normally do with any other girl, but with you it was different, his body always act different around you.

The two of you hurriedly started taking off your clothes, doing your best to not break the kiss.

‘Shit!’ He trips over one of your bags on the floor, trying to grip on the wall and also hold you so you don't fall, but all that just caused you both to fall to the ground. Trying to contain it but failing miserably, you burst out laughing.

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

And when we've had our very last kiss

My last request is

september 2019; Italy, Monza

week after the race

You knocked at Charles door and he opens it. Fresh of the shower, wet hair and grey sweat pants, after shave lotion and some expensive french perfume.

He was leaving, you could see how the room was already cleaned and organised. His bags were already packed near the door and he was totally avoiding looking at your face.

‘Are you already going?’ You almost whisper as you notice the bags and the bedside tables empty.

‘Uhm, yes’ He rubs the side of his neck, looking at you for a second, but now you're the one who's avoiding his face. ‘My flight is in one hour'

The silence that fills the room is awkward, neither of you knowing what to say or what to do. You wanted to run into him and kiss him goodbye strongly, hold him into your arms so tight that he would feel you'll never let him go. You wanted to tell him how this past two weeks meant to you and that you loved him.

You opened your mouth but nothing come out from it, you knew that was the last time you were going to see each other.

Charles didn't know what to do either. So he just pull his bags out of the room, looked at you at you for some embarrassing 15 seconds, and hugged you.

But it wasn't the kind of hug he usually had, the warm and comfortable hug you used to woke up with when he slept in your room, but rather, a strange and unnatural hug. And he kissed you forehead

You were fighting back the tears but they couldn't help it and started rolling down your cheeks, Charles quickly cupped both sides of your face and wiped the tears away with his thumb.

‘I’ll miss you, Charles.’ You confessed, tongue poking the inside of your cheek and looking anywhere but at him.

‘I’ll miss you too, mon amour’ He leaned pecking your lips. Wet kiss from the tears rolling down your cheeks. Charles wanted to slap himself just for the thought of he being the one that made you cry, but there's nothing he could do, he had to leave.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha (ha-ah, ha)

Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

may 2021; Monaco, Monte Carlo

When your friend invited you to this party on a uselessly expensive yacht, you made it clear you didn't want to go. But your friend was stubborn and she couldn't stop talking about this stupid party and how amazing it would be, so you given up and put yourself in a tight dress and high heels.

You despised drunk people when you were sober, and rich drunk people were even more despiseble. You hated how they kept bragging themselves about their millionaire mansions or how they kept competing about who has more boats or fancy cars.

No doubt the party was not hitting for you. You had two drinks and the ice on the one you were holding had melted at some good minutes ago, still untouched. Tipsy, but not drunk, you saw your friend dancing with some random dude at the dancefloor, hopefully that she was going to leave when the music was over.

Unsurprisingly, another annoying electronic song starts and your friend doesn't seem to be willing to head home. The yacht was already back to the marina, so you decided to leave the boat and wait for your friend away from the crowd.

You looked back at your friend as you stepped out into the cool night air, glad to be away from the thumping bass of the party yacht.

As you walked down the steps to the deck, you felt a jolt as you bumped into someone, causing you both to stumble.

"Sorry," you muttered, looking up to see who you had knocked into. And you're met with that familiar face, his gaze directly at you.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, unsure of what to do next. Time seemed to stand still as you took in the sight of each other. His hair was still as messy as ever, his eyes still the same shade of green blue-ish that made your heart skip a beat.

"Hi," Charled said, breaking the silence. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has" you nodded, feeling an awkward smile creeping onto your face. "How have you been?"

"Good" He shrugged, eyes flickering through your face. "you?"

"i'm great" you said, chewing your bottom lip and looking anywhere but at him.

"Uhm, what are you doing out here? do you need something?"

"I came with my friend and," You start, pointing back to the yacht. "I just needed some air, party's a bit overwhelming"

He nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it. I was thinking of leaving, actually."

"Same. My feet hurt from these heels."

"Do you want a ride?" The monaguesque kindly offers, noticing your friend probably wouldn't go home soon. "I could drop you off home if you want to"

"Ah, you don't need to" you shrugged, chuckling nervously and fidgeting with the end of your dress. "I'm sure me and my friend will be home soon, and i don't want to get in your way I-"

"No, it's okay, really" Charles interrupted "I wouldn't mind at all"

You hesitated, but nodded. You knew this ride home would be embarrassing but you needed to be home as quick as possible.

The drive was silent, neither of you knowing what to say or do. He tried to make small talk, asking you about your life and work, but it just ended on it.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, breaking the silence as you arrived at your hotel's driveway.

"Of course," he replied, "It was no problem."

You made your way to leave the car, but then you stopped when his hand found your wrist.

"Wait," he said, your confused face bringing him the regret of his previous actions "it was nice seeing you again"

You smiled at his words, leaning to leave a soft peck on his cheeks. And with that you got out the vehicle, walking towards the hotel entrance, looking back at him one more time, then disappearing from his sight.

You'll see me in hindsight

Tangled up with you all night

Burning it down

Someday when you leave me

I bet these memories

Follow you around

september 2021; Italy, Monza

saturday night

Charles was laying on his hotel bed, his head spinning from all the whiskey he had consumed that night. Finished in P1 and Carlos in P3 in quali, the team decided to celebrate, and let's say Charles crossed the line with the alcohol.

He stared blankly at the white ceiling and tried to shake off the memories that had plagued him for the last hour. But one memory held onto him fiercely.

His mind drifted to you, the woman he loved with all his heart. The woman who had once filled his life with laughter and joy, all in just one week, seemed so far away now. It had been two years since you last saw each other, and the pain of that loss still ached him. He knew he fucked up when he leaved, but it was something he had to do.

Picking up his phone at the nightstand, he stared at it, scrolling through the list of contacts then finding your name on it. He looks at your picture for a moment, reminding of all of your moments together. Pictures of your smiles and giggles haunting his thoughts.

The pain of missing you was too much, and soon he was sobbing uncontrollably. He missed it, your laugh, your touch. He just couldn't imagine how much of a idiot to let you slip through his fingers so easily.

Before he knew it, he was dialing your number, hoping that you would pick up, but it went straight to voicemail.

Feeling defeated, he left a message, 'Hey, it's Char. I know it's been a long time, and I know I probably shouldn't be calling, but I can't help it. I still love you, and I miss you so much it hurts. I just wanted you to know that.'

He paused, trying to breathe through his tears before he continued, 'I know I messed up. I was an idiot when i leave you, but if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, please come to the race tomorrow. It's here in Monza, I don't know if you're here but still, I'm sorry Y/N. Love you'

He ended the voicemail, knowing that it probably wouldn't make any difference, but he had to try. He couldn't go on without at least asking for another chance.

As the sleepiness spreads through his body, he held on to the hope that you would come to the race and give him a second chance to make things right.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just pretend

september 2021; Italy, Monza

sunday- the race

As Charles walked around the paddock, amongst the bustling crowd of mechanics, engineers, and journalists, he couldn't help but glance around, hoping to see you somewhere. He new he shouldn't have called you the previous night, and he was hopeless you'd even heard his voicemail.

With each passing minute, he grew more anxious, convinced that he wouldn't see you anywhere. That was until he caught a glimpse of a woman from the corner of his eye. Her silhouette looked so much like yours, and his heart skipped a beat, thinking that you might actually be there for him.

He turned around, eager to look at the woman that he had missed so much, but when she turned around, it wasn't you.

His heart sank, and he felt his hopes crumble before him.

The race that he had been preparing for seemed unimportant compared to the pain he felt in that moment. He tried to focus on the race, but his thoughts were tangled with you.

He prayed you would be in the stands watching him race, cheering him on.

However, as the race approached, he knew deep down that you were not going to be there.

He focused entirely on the race, pouring all his emotions and energy into it, hoping he would forget about all of this.

With each lap, he pushed himself further and further, driven by the desire to succeed.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just pretend, in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

In your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

Even if it's just stayed in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

In your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

september 2021; Italy, Monza

sunday- the race

He finished the line on P4. After all his hard work. He was so mad of himself.

Since the race started he was being so rude with people around him, that wasn't him, he used to be so kind and grateful whenever he wins or not, whatever his results were.

But today he was nervous.

Nervous because there was a chance for you to be there, in the same place as him, watching him race so badly like he did today.

But also nervous because he had the thought the you didn't even heard his voice mail, or wasn't there because you hated him.

He left sad of his car though, doing what he was supposed to do as fast as possible so he could get out of there as soon as possible.

He was heading to his trailer when he heard a familiar voice shouting his name.

'Charles!'

At first he thought he was going crazy, just like some hours ago when he saw that woman. But then he turned. And there was you.

Running towards him with a wide smile stamped at your lips. The yellow flowery summer dress that hugged your body flying with the wind, just like you hair.

He was speechless and you were stunning.

'Hey' You greeted, breathy voice and heavy breath. 'I'm sor- I was going to talk to you before the race but i arrived here a little late and-'

'That's fine.' Charles interrupted you shyly, not knowing what to say next.

'You did so good down there! Congratulations!' You smiled kindly and looked around you 'Well, uhm, i just wanted to say hi, don't know if i can be here' You chuckled.

You both were embarrassed, two years after you both talked seriously and some months since day night in the party. You just didn't know what to do or say, so you give him an awful wave of your hand and a softly 'bye-bye', then started to walk away, leaving charles even more speechless than he was previously.

But then your thoughts stopped you on track and you turn to ask him:

'Char, you were serious about what you said when you called me last night?'

It was like a splash of cold water for him, a snap of fingers in front of his face for him to finally come back to reality. Not only the nickname had taken him by surprise but also the question really made him remember the stupidity he did; he called you last night. He drunkly called you last night. He didn't remember all the things he had told you, but he knows that when he gets drunk he just can't stop himself and say all what he was thinking of. That worried him.

'I-I don't know, I was... drunk' He said, gulping and pulling his fingers through his hair. Then he looked at you.

You were confused, so as him, but you had a frown on your face like you were trying to avoid crying or something, and he felt bad.

'Because, if you didn't meant that, I...' You sadly spoke, looking at his eyes and breathing strongly.

'I can't take it' You started, 'It's always the same, you left me that day and then one year after i saw you in that restaurant with- with that blonde girl and...' you interrupted yourself as tears started rolling down your cheeks. 'and that fucking hurt me when i get to the hotel that day because i thought i got over you and now i know i don't'

'we always ended up meeting eachother, and there's always these awkward and strange conversations and i always thought we will figure something out about this but then i have to leave, or you have to'

'And then you suddenly call me, telling you love me and shit, that you can't stop thinking about me, and i feel good because i feel the fucking same' You wiped your tears and looked at him directly at his eyes. 'and then you invite me to this stupid race and you say nothing? after that bomb you dropped at the voicemail?'

'I-I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't know-' He starts but you interrupted him.

'Please, don't ' you sigh, 'I don't even know why i'm here' and you leave.

Charles is speachless and frozen in his place. Spacing out while he sees you leaving, once again, just like all the other times you met each other.

It's like a switch turning on his thoughts. He can't let you go again, not after all he passed through. He can't let the person who's been in his mind the last two years leave him miserable again. He have to do something, and he have to be quick.

And then he's running, faster then he's capable of since you're really far away. but he catches you, and his hand founds your wrist. You were completely unaware of his presence until you felt his touch, and before you can even turn around your mouths are joined together.

Lips to lips, he's worried when you don't correspond his kiss, but your mind was on a delay as you tried to process all the information.

Your hands run along his chest covered up with the red ferrari shirt when you kiss him back. His arms are wrapped around your figure and he groaned between your lips, deepening the kiss and smiling when your grip on his chest rise up to his neck.

You want to kill mother nature and the human body, but breathing became important as the two of you got out of air, so you pulled away.

'Please stay this time' You can see an only tear drop running down his cheeks as he sobbed, your hand flew to hold his face and wipe it as you gave him a week smile. 'I swear I won't leave anymore'

Pecking his lips once again, you've got a shy smile out of his lips. 'You better be right, I don't wanna be disappointed' You quote the very same thing you said two years before.

'You won't '

#formula one fic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #sorry for the tags x #maseyfilms works

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