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spectorgram · 6 months ago

Text

eyes wide open

pairing: theodore nott x f! reader summary: you discover that there is so much more to theodore nott than you thought. content: gryffindor! reader, semi-nsfw (characters are 18+) word count: 5.46k

You have never spoken to Theodore Nott before. You’ve him around a lot, usually with Mattheo Riddle or Lorenzo Berkshire, and he is a regular on the quidditch team — a chaser — so you’d see him zoom by during matches. He’s also in a majority of your classes for this year, which lets you observe him from afar. But past that, you’ve never really had much to do with him beyond seeing him with Malfoy and witnessing how he stands quietly — with either a small smirk or a look of complete apathy on his face — while Malfoy and your friends argue back and forth.

Having class with Theodore Nott has let you learn three things about him: he’s quiet, whip-sharp, and unbelievably handsome. You didn’t need classes with him to know the last one is a well-known fact; he’s constantly noted as one of the most attractive of your classmates. “Shame he’s a Slytherin,” Lavender Brown once said to you, which had made you roll your eyes and retort, “And what’s wrong with that?” It had gotten you into a big fight and you don’t think she’s spoken to you since, not that you’ve really wanted her to.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Ron asks you as he, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny stand at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. “Mum would love to have you. She’s always banging on about what a lovely girl you are and how polite you were.”

“And I’m sure Fred would love to see you,” Ginny adds.

You snort, “I’m really sure. But please give my regards to your mother and Fred.”

“Will do,” Ginny says with a two-finger salute.

Your friends say their farewells as they leave through the portrait hall. You flop against the plush velvet of the couch, staring at the roaring fire. Your parents were on a months-long that brought them to see famous wizarding landmarks so you’re stuck at Hogwarts for the holiday. You’re a little disappointed that you won’t be with your family but another part of you is excited to be in the castle when it’s less populated. You’ll finally get to make your way through the massive pile of books you have at your bedside since you’re usually caught up in listening to and gossiping with your roommates.

You head up to your room, empty except for you and your owl hooting in his cage. You wiggle your fingers inside, Ramses rubbing his feathery head against them. You grab the first book from the top of your pile, turning the leather-bound edition over in your hand. Hermione gifted it to you for your last birthday: William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. You shimmy into your gold and red striped sweater and tuck the book underneath your arm, walking down to the dining hall for dinner.

Students are scattered around the Great Hall, some chattering with their friends while others eat silently. The ceiling has shifted to depict a clear night sky, floating candles casting an orange glow. You spot Mattheo Riddle alone at the Slytherin tables but the way he keeps looking to the door makes you assume he’s waiting for a friend. You settle down on a bench all to yourself, piling your plate with the mouthwatering selections available to you.

You rest your chin on your fist, cracking open the play. You get only a few pages in when you hear a familiar low voice. “All alone, little lion?” His eyes examine you and you suddenly feel too exposed despite your layers.

You come face-to-face with Theodore Nott and his sea blue eyes. He regards you coolly and you ask, “Can I help you, Nott?”

He points at your copy of Romeo and Juliet. “Where’d you get that?”

You furrow your brow in confusion. Why in Godric’s name is Theodore Nott of all people interested in a Muggle book. You respond, “Hermione gave it to me. Why?”

“It’s hard to find Muggle books here,” he says. His eyes linger on the play. “Think I could borrow it when you’re finished?”

Your brain stalls, questions floating around your head. “Sure,” you finally answer. He nods and neither of you say anything more. The quiet that falls between you two makes you tense and you say, “Is that all, Nott?”

He considers and then says, “I think so.” He heads to the Slytherin tables without another word, sitting beside Mattheo, who’s been watching on keenly. You catch his stare and he smirks, raising a hand in a casual wave. Theodore smacks his shoulder and pulls Mattheo’s hand down.

You sigh, shake your head in disbelief, and go back to reading the play.

It’s been a few days since your encounter with Theodore, but the interaction sticks with you. Every time you open up the play, you’re reminded of it and your curiosity returns tenfold.

It’s odd being at school when it’s this empty. You’ve managed to occupy yourself by playing Wizard’s Chess with some fifth years, helping Professor Flitwick organize his classroom and the Frog Choir’s practice room, and working on knitting gifts to give you friends when they return.

You’re sitting in the Gryffindor common room, working on Harry’s scarf, when you spill a cup of tea one of the house elves had made for you. Cursing, you move your knitting out of the way and survey the damage to your sweatshirt. With a groan, you gather your things and bring them to your dorm, blotting out the growing stain with water and letting it dry over the edge of the bathtub.

You slip into a forest green sweater and throw a brown corduroy jacket over it. You grab your copy of Romeo and Juliet and head down to the Black Lake. The cold breezes nip at your cheek and carries the scent of pine trees, which you inhale gratefully. You plop yourself underneath a tree on the shore of the lake, reclining against the trunk and cracking open the book.

You’re not even a page in when you hear a familiar voice call your name. Your hold on your book tightens but you peer up, watching Theodore approach. He’s in a dark wool overcoat and similarly dark trousers, hands tucked into his coat pockets. His strides are leisurely and long, reaching you in only a handful of steps.

He stands tall in front of you, shadow cast long in the afternoon sun. His gaze roams over you and he says, “Isn’t wearing green considered treacherous for you?”

You’re confused for a second before you follow his line of sight and glance down at your own sweater. Right. You reply, “No more than it would be for you to wear red.”

The corner of his lip twitches up in a small, half-smile and he says, “High treason then.”

You echo your words from earlier in the week: “Can I help you, Nott?”

He ignores your question, instead choosing to tip his chin at your book. “What part are you at?”

“Mercutio’s died in his duel with Tybalt.”

He nods and recites, “‘A plague o’ both your houses. They have made worms’ meat of me: I have it, and soundly too: your houses.’”

You don’t bother to hide your surprise. “You’ve read it?”

“Haven’t most people?”

“Sure, most people know the story but they don’t usually read it.

“I’ve read it a couple of times,” he admits. He adds, “My mother’s favorite book.”

“I see. Is that why you want to borrow it from me?”

“Yeah.”

Silence falls between the pair of you. Distantly, there’s a cry of crows. Theodore is still standing above you, gazing down, and you squirm a little. He then says, “I always liked Benvolio.”

You’re reminded that Theodore’s half-Italian in the way he says ‘Benvolio,’ accent smooth and lilting. It suddenly feels a little too warm under your coat but you ignore it. You instead blurt out, “Of course you would. You’re kind of like him.”

Theodore raises one eyebrow and you feel your face heat even more, embarrassed, and you hope he doesn’t take it as a bad thing. He doesn’t seem offended though and asks, “Oh, how so?”

“I mean,” you say, “you are— well, you seem like the most reasonable of your friends. A mediator of some sort.”

“That sounds about right,” he says. “You remind me of Juliet.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You’re not sure if you should take it as a good thing or not.

“Well, she has a solid set of beliefs and stands up for them. She knows herself; she tells her parents that she doesn’t want to marry Paris, not just because she’s in love with Romeo but also because she knows she’ll be unhappy. What is it she says? ‘Now, by Saint Peter’s Church, and Peter too, he shall not make me there a joyful bride! I wonder at this haste, that I must wed ere he that should be husband comes to woo.’”

Theodore’s mouth lifts in a tiny, lopsided smile again and he says, “Plus, she’s the one most of the guys fawn over, right?”

You’re left to gape at him in shock and awe, processing what he just said as he turns and walks back to the castle along the shore, just outside the gentle lapping of the water. You watch his retreating figure, watch as he grows smaller and smaller and eventually disappears.

You don’t get much reading done, the book remaining open in your lap and your eyes fixed on the spot where Theodore once stood.

You sit there until the top curve of the sun is just peeking out over the horizon and you stand, still a tad dazed, and make your long walk back to Hogwarts.

It’s just past one in the morning and you can’t sleep, tossing and turning fitfully. Theodore Nott and his long shadow and his blue eyes keep appearing behind your eyelids, no matter how much you try to shove the thoughts out. You want to bang your head on one of the wooden poles holding up the canopy of your four-poster bed, but you opt for sliding on your slippers and going down to the kitchens to see if the house elves have any leftover brownies from dinner. Maybe they could warm up a mug of hot cocoa for you too.

You shuffle through the hallway, the chill of the castle waking you up. You rub your hands along your arms, wishing you had worn something over your pajamas. Since it’s break, restrictions about when and where students could go are essentially non-existent. You pass Filch, who scowls at you, clearly aggrieved that he can’t punish you for being out of bed, and Nearly-Headless Nick, who greets you cheerfully and questions you as to why you’re up at such a time. “Can’t sleep,” you explain. “I’m checking if the elves have any midnight snacks for me.”

He chuckles, “An excellent reason but don’t stay up too late, or you’ll wind up like me!” He laughs hard at his joke and you can’t help but giggle, bidding him a goodnight as you descend into the basement.

You nearly run right into Theodore as you approach the kitchens. You jump at least a foot, clasping your hands over your chest. “Merlin’s beard, you scared me!”

“Could say the same for you,” he says. “Nice pajamas.”

You forgot you were in a tank top and shorts. You cross your arms and say, “You seem awfully fixated on my clothes, Nott.” You try to look as threatening as you can but the slight tremble to your body takes away any effect.

Theodore rolls his eyes and slides the robe he donned over his striped pajamas off, holding it out to you. When you don’t take it, he just throws it over your shoulders, the weight comfortable and warm. You say, “You keep popping up out of nowhere. Are you stalking me or something?”

He snorts, “You would never know if I was. But no, Mattheo’s snoring kept me up. I figured I should take advantage of my insomnia and grab some brownies from dessert.”

“Great minds think alike then,” you say.

You and Theodore walk down the corridor towards the kitchen when he asks, “Have you finished the book?”

“No, didn’t get a lot of reading done after you left.”

“Did I distract you that much?” He looks smug, smirking, and it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“In your dreams.”

“Yeah,” he says. “When do you think you’ll finish?”

“Bloody hell, you’re impatient,” you groan, rubbing your temples. You’re not sure what possesses you, if it’s your sleep-deprived brain or something else but you suggest, “How about this? You grab brownies and cocoa for us and I’ll get the damn book and we’ll meet in the Clock Tower and read it together.”

Theodore considers it for a moment before he says, “Alright. I’ll meet you there in fifteen.”

“Perfect.” You scurry back to the Gryffindor dorms. Nearly-Headless Nick queries as to where your snacks are but you don’t answer, moving swiftly. You enter your dorm room, only pausing for a moment to catch your breath. Your heart is pounding but you can’t tell if it’s from the journey or from the thought of sitting alone in the Clock Tower with Theodore Nott. You don’t let yourself dwell on it and you pick up Romeo and Juliet and climb the stairs to the Clock Tower.

Theodore has beaten you there, already sitting up against the glass of the clock. The frost on the glass obstructs some of the moonbeams streaming in but it’s just enough light to read. In the moonlight, Theodore’s hair looks lighter and more burnt golden than brown. He takes a sip of his cocoa and holds out a ceramic mug to you as you settle next to him. You accept it gratefully, plucking a brownie from the plate between you two.

You flip through the play to find where you left off, the page dog-earred. Theodore makes a sound at the back of his throat. “What?”

“Don’t you have a bookmark or something?”

“No. Leave my marking choices out of it.”

He snickers and leans over you to get a better look at the text. Your shoulders brush and you’re all too aware that he smells of chocolate and sandalwood. His smell is clean and distinct; his robe smells like that too.

As you two begin to read, Theodore tells you to turn back or move forward. You eventually figure out a rhythm, knowing exactly when to do so. You’re about ten minutes into reading when you feel Theodore’s gaze on you. You remain still, wondering if he’ll stop but when he doesn’t you mumble, “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring.” “Does it bother you?”

“It feels like you can see into my soul.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Does it bother you?”

You pause. “I don’t… I don’t know.” A beat. “Why are you?”

“Why am I what?”

“Staring at me.”

His voice drops, somehow deeper than you have ever heard it. “Because I like to.”

Your head whips to him but no words leave your mouth. He regards you carefully and asks again, “Does that bother you?”

You hesitate. Then, “No, it doesn’t.”

He hums and you think he’ll do… something but he just ducks his head back down to read and you let out of the breath you didn’t know you were holding, disappointment pooling in your stomach. You don’t know what you wanted him to do. You don’t know why you’re disappointed.

You two read until your eyes grow heavy. You struggle to keep your lids open, head jolting up when you realize you’re drifting off. Theodore taps your shoulder and says, “We can stop here. Pick up another time.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, standing and stretching. You stifle a yawn and remember you have his robe on. You begin to take it off but he says, “Keep it. You can give it back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. Same time, same place?”

“Okay.”

It doesn’t take you long to finish the play with Theodore only two days later. You noticed that Theodore read slower than before, telling you multiple times per session to go back a couple of pages.

Your eyes follow the last line: For never was a story of more woe / Than this of Juliet and her Romeo, and you close the book with a dull thump. You sit in silence with Theodore, listening to the clock hand turn to the next minute. You stay like that for a while. You sip on the spiced hot chocolate the house elves prepared for you. You share sugar cookies with Theodore that are shaped like snowflakes.

“So,” you start, breaking the silence, “this is your mother’s favorite book?”

He nods. “I think she read it a lot when her parents arranged for her to marry my father.”

“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, adding lamely, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Silence.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you stay here over break?”

He stiffens, expression unreadable. He glances over at you and finally sighs. “My father’s trial is happening right around now. My family doesn’t want any of the kids around this so…” He motions to the Clock Tower, adding, “My siblings are either at their own schools or with my grandmother.”

Your heart aches at the frown on his face and you bite the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to proceed. You’re thankful when Theodore moves on. “What about you?”

“Oh, my parents are on a sight-seeing cruise so they’re not home. I got a postcard today, though, they’re in Japan now.”

“I’ve never been. How’s it look?”

“Pretty. They said their tour guide told them the best time to come is when the cherry blossoms bloom. I would like to go.”

“We’ll go together then.”

He says it with a finality that makes you shy. “When?” is all you can ask.

“Someday.”

You haven’t seen Theodore in a couple of days, an odd thing to try and get used to when you’ve just adjusted to him popping up wherever you are. You assume that he’s done with you now that you finished Romeo and Juliet.

It all makes your heart sink.

You’re alone in the common room, wrapping up your gifts for your friends. You stack Harry’s scarf on top of Hermione’s mittens, Ron’s socks, and Ginny’s hat, and you lean against the couch with a huff.

You think about the spare red yarn sitting in your room. You think there’s just enough to make another scarf.

Theodore’s face flashes in your mind’s eye and you run a hand down your face in frustration. Whatever weird thing you had with Theodore is over. He’s probably out with Mattheo at the Three Broomsticks or something. You’ve seen them there before along with Enzo, Blaise, Draco, and Pansy as well as just with each other, usually flirting with girls there.

You didn’t used to think much of it — just scoffed along with Ron and Hermione — but now the thought makes your stomach churn.

You think about the extra yarn in your room again and you almost can’t believe that, despite his disappearing act, you’ve decided you’ll knit a scarf for Theodore Nott.

Almost.

You’re greeted with a delicious Sunday roast for dinner on Christmas Eve: tender roasted beef, warm Yorkshire puddings, fluffy mashed potatoes, and a side of jus from the beef. You sit by yourself once again, the loneliness threatening to swallow you whole as you plate your dinner.

Theodore seats himself right across from you and places a parcel wrapped in brown paper in front of you. You look at it in confusion and he says, “Open it.”

“What is it?”

“Christmas present.”

You raise a brow. “You got me a present?”

“Yes, now open it.”

“Shouldn’t I wait until tom—” The sharp look he gives you makes you set your fork aside and tug on the string of the bow. There are two books inside. The first is a copy of Shakespeare’s Macbeth, similarly leather-bound like Romeo and Juliet, and the second one is an ornately-decorated collector’s edition of Romeo and Juliet.

Your jaw falls open and you whisper, “Theodore…”

He says, “Figured that we can read Macbeth together. It’s a personal favorite of mine.”

Your fingers trace the golden embossment of Romeo and Juliet, swooping down to follow the curve of the ‘J.’ “Where did you even get this?”

“Sent a lot of letters and had Mattheo help me pull strings at Flourish and Blotts.”

Your face is on fire but you grin at Theodore and say, “Thank you so much.”

“Happy Christmas,” he says and you catch the pink at the tips of his ears.

“I actually have something for you too,” you say and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I’ll get it to you after dinner.”

“I’ll come with,” he says and you nod. You wonder if he’ll get up but he stays put, taking a plate and serving himself dinner.

You two talk quietly in between bites and something dawns on you halfway through. “Where’s Mattheo?” You look over your shoulder and can’t find the other Slytherin boy.

Theodore smirks. “Might’ve slipped him a couple of galleons to leave us alone.” Your cheeks heat pleasantly.

You two finish dinner after that and Theodore walks you to the Fat Lady’s portrait. She eyes him suspiciously, glaring at you. “You know students from other Houses aren’t permitted in the Gryffindor dorm.”

You disregard her and give her the password. Begrudgingly and with one last glower at you and Theodore, the portrait swings open and you step inside. Theodore peers around the common room and says, “Never been in here before.”

“Some Gryffindor girl hasn’t taken you back with her?” you ask but you instantly regret your teasing words. The thought of Theodore with someone else (Lavender Brown comes to mind and you scowl internally) makes you queasy.

“Can’t say that it’s happened,” he says, shooting you a cocky smirk. “You’d be the first.”

“I’m honored. Wait right here.”

Theodore flops on the couch and sighs in satisfaction. “So much more comfortable than Slytherin’s.”

“Yeah?” you ask as you retreat up the stairs. He shouts after you that Slytherin’s couches, while not wholly terrible, are stiff whereas your common room’s are plush and cushy.

Theodore’s scarf, knit in a red cashmere, lays innocuously on your bed. You’re abruptly self-conscious of it; Theodore got you two beautiful and likely expensive books and you knit him a measly scarf in colors that aren’t his House’s.

Merlin, you think, what if he hates it? Only one way to find out, you suppose. With a deep breath, you pick it up and hide it behind your back. You peek into the common room, where Theodore lounges on the couch, his figure long and relaxed. His shirt has ridden up a little and you spy a sliver of the toned muscle of his stomach.

“Close your eyes,” you say. You watch his eyes shut, unfairly long lashes brushing his cheekbone. You creep into the room, halting in front of him. The flames dancing in the fireplace are the only excuse you can come up with for why you’re so warm. “Hold out your hands.”

He sits up straight and does as he’s told. You say, “It’s not wrapped.”

“That’s alright.”

You inhale, exhale, and gingerly place the scarf in his hands. He opens his eyes and inspects the scarf, rubbing the knit yarn in between his fingers. You hold your breath.

His face breaks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on him. He looks—

He looks beautiful. He’s always handsome, yes, but he’s beautiful here.

“This is really nice. You make it yourself?”

You hum in affirmation and he loops it around his neck, standing and spinning around playfully. “How do I look?”

“I think red’s definitely your color,” you tell him, your own cheeks hurting from how widely you’re beaming.

Theodore takes a step closer, his shoes nearly knocking into yours. The glee in his expression morphs slowly into something different. It’s not anything bad, but it’s somehow more intense and softer than before. “Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome. Thank you again for the books.”

“You’re welcome.”

The fireplace crackles, embers spitting.

You’re not sure who moves first. Your mouths crash against each other like waves against a bluff, all lips and teeth and tongue. Your hands are everywhere, in his hair, clutching his shoulders, cupping his face. His hands are just as frantic, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing you tight against him.

You two come up for air but you don’t surface for long. Despite the way he’s worked up, he’s careful in unwinding the scarf from his neck and draping it over a nearby arm chair. Then, he’s on you again, pulling you flush against him.

He guides you to his lap as he sits back on the couch, lips never leaving yours. You straddle his thighs, tugging lighty at his curls. He moans into your mouth. Your hips move against his. His fingers, long and cold, creep under your shirt and send a shiver down your spine.

His mouth only leaves yours to latch onto your neck, sucking and licking and nipping. You whine and push yourself against him harder, your hands clumsily trying to undo the buttons of his shirt. He helps you, flinging it off his shoulders, and pulling your own off your torso.

“Fuck,” he groans, chest heaving as he takes in the view of you. He’s staring at you like you’re some sort of goddess. “Fuck, you’re beautiful, amorina.”

You melt under his gaze. His ocean blue eyes are a little glazed and his mouth is kiss-swollen and ajar. Godric, he’s one to talk. You lean in closer, tracing his jaw and letting your hand trail down his neck, his chest, down to his stomach. You graze the top of his trousers and lightly scrap your nails over the skin just above. He hisses, hips bucking, and before you can say anything to him, he’s yanking you down for a kiss.

It’s slower, no less passionate but less frenzied, and you only break apart to whisper, “Bedroom, Nott.”

He doesn’t say another word, springing from the couch, grabbing the scarf you made him, and dragging you up to your dorm. As soon as he’s inside, he sets the scarf on your bedside table and pushes you down onto the mattress, climbing on after you.

You squeal as he peppers kisses along your neck. “Theo,” he murmurs against the skin of your collarbone. “Call me Theo.”

“Okay,” you say, testing it out. “Theo.” His hips slot against yours once more and you cant your up. He slips a hand down your pants and when he presses his palm against you, you whine, “Theo!”

Another rumbling moan, “Amorina, you don’t know what you do to me.” Another long, hard kiss. Your hands move to unbutton his trousers.

You don’t care how sweaty and sticky you are as you lay panting against Theo’s chest, feeling the way it rises and falls in rapid succession. You listen to his racing heartbeat and he places a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

As you two catch your breath, Theo says, “I think Juliet should have gone with Benvolio.”

You look at him like he’s crazy. “That’s really what you’re thinking about?”

He winks at you. “Of course not. I’ve been thinking about it since we finished the book.”

You slap his chest playfully and ask the obvious question: “Why do you think so?”

“Well, you said I’m like Benvolio and I told you you remind me of Juliet.”

“Huh?” You think for a couple of seconds and then it clicks. “Oh!” You take in Theo’s half-lidded eyes staring at you. “Oh…”

He dips down to kiss you again.

Over the break, you’ve expanded on what you know about Theodore Nott. One, he’s quiet because he’s thoughtful, always observing, always analyzing, and storing away information for whatever purpose he’d like to use it for.

Two, he’s whip-sharp — you see it in the way he can quote Shakespeare plays like second-nature; in how he easily banters with you, always coming back with a swift reply and a cheeky smile.

Lastly, he’s unbelievably handsome. You knew this before but it’s different now. You admire the way he holds himself with an unflagging confidence, how he has these rare full-bellied laughs that make you crave the sound. But you think he’s most handsome when you sit together, cloistered away in the Clock Tower, reading Romeo and Juliet and now Macbeth together. You’re so close, you can smell the peppermint on his breath from the candy canes the house elves snuck you. You can see all the shades of blue in his eyes. You can count the beauty marks on his face.

This close, you can lean over and kiss him and delight in the way your heart thrums when he reciprocates, cradling your face and coaxing you into him.

You spend the majority of the rest of the break wrapped up in Theo’s arms. By the last day, you’re sure you have snuck each other into your dorms more times than either of you can count. You hang out a few times with Mattheo, who turns out to be not as bad as your friends make him out to be. He’s sharp and quick-witted like Theo with a tendency towards the dramatics that makes you laugh.

You’re sitting at the same spot underneath the tree at the Black Lake, Theo relaxing between your legs. He’s swaddled in the same black overcoat you saw him in before, only this time, the red scarf you knit is starkly bright against the coat. You card your fingers through his soft curls, ducking to peck his forehead. He tilts his head upwards and smiles boyishly at you and it makes you giggle, planting a kiss on his mouth. He brings your hand down to his lips, kissing each fingertip.

You relish the quiet with him, knowing that tomorrow will be a flurry of activity with students and faculty returning from winter holiday. It makes you sigh, the thought of leaving the little world you and Theo have created. Your relationship is only a couple of days old and you can’t deny that you’re anxious about your friends coming back.

As if sensing your nervousness, Theo sits up and spins around to face you. You attempt to plaster on a reassuring smile but it’s wobbly and uneasy. He cradles your face with one hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “What’s wrong, cara mia?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble. He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow with an expression that tells you he knows you’re lying. “What are we going to do when everyone comes back?”

“What do you mean?”

“Theo, our friends all despise each other.”

He replies, “So? Just because they don’t like each other doesn’t mean we can’t.” He kisses the back of your hand. “And I happen to like you very much.”

You smile weakly at him. “I know, and I like you very much as well. It’s just…” You can picture the dawning horror on Ron’s face and the grimaces on Hermione and Harry’s.

Theo’s mouth turns downward and he asks, “Why do you care what they think?”

“Don’t you care what your friends think?”

“No,” he says firmly, adding, “Plus, Mattheo likes you so who’s to say everyone else won’t?”

“Theo…”

He repeats, “Why do you care?”

“I just don’t want anything to ruin this, ruin us.”

“They can only ruin it if we let them and we won’t.”

“You don’t know that for sure! We’re still in the early stages of our relationship.”

“Do you not have faith that we’ll stay together?” he asks.

“I do! It’s—” You sigh in frustration, brow furrowed. “I just want to preserve what we have without outside influence. Please, can we just wait a little to tell everyone?”

You wish you didn’t see the way Theo’s expression falters, hurt passing across briefly before he wipes it away. He’s studying your face, eyes dark and unreadable but he nods. “Fine. But you have to promise me that it’s just for a little while.”

“I promise.”

“Alright. I’ll tell Mattheo not to open his big mouth.”

“Thank you, Theo,” you say. This time, you reach for his hand and peck his knuckles. His shoulders lose their tension and he bends towards you, mouth ghosting against your neck. You squeal and giggle and you feel him smile against your skin.

author's note: at long last, the theo nott fic i teased months ago... this fic was supposed to be a lot longer but i when i went back to college and hit a major writer's block, it just languished. i'm proud of what i've written, which is why i want to post it, but please excuse the kind of abrupt end. there is a potential continuation in the future <3

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott fic #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #✶ NOVE WRITES

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 2 months ago

Note

Could you do Toto Wolff with wife reader? There are memes about Toto and Fred Vasseur being all lovey dovey. And there's a scene where they stood close together and Toto just kissed his head while Ted was watching from the background. 🤣🤣 Purely hysterical. And memes about them being Romeo and Juliet when they talk across from each other at Baku. And she's having a blast about it. Constantly teasing him about her being the third wheel. Please, however you see fit. Feat their son, Jack. Kisses, affectionate. Thanks!! :)))

Meme-ing my way to your heart

Word count: 518

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Wife!reader, feat. Jack

I hope I understood everything right and this is good enough 🙈

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You’re lounging on the couch, scrolling through Twitter when you come across a meme that makes you burst into laughter. It’s that infamous shot of Toto leaning in and kissing Fred’s head while Ted Kravitz stands nearby, looking utterly shocked. The caption reads:

When your best friend gets all the affection and you’re just the confused bystander.

You can’t help but laugh out loud, and it catches Toto’s attention. He glances over from the kitchen, raising an eyebrow. “What now?”

“Just another meme about you and Fred!” you call back, holding up your phone to show him the picture. “Look at this! You’re practically a couple now!”

Toto rolls his eyes but can’t suppress the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “That’s not how it is.”

“Really?” You lean back against the couch, crossing your arms playfully. “Because it looks like you’re in a committed relationship with Fred, and I’m just here to provide comic relief.”

Just then, Jack comes barreling into the room, holding two toy cars, his face lit up with excitement. “Daddy! Mummy! Look what I made!” He waves the cars in the air, completely oblivious to the teasing.

“Wow, Jack! Those are amazing!” you exclaim, bending down to inspect his creations, your laughter momentarily forgotten.

“Look, Mummy!” he insists, showing you both his toys. “They’re race cars! Just like Daddy’s!”

Toto grins, lifting Jack onto his lap. “You’re going to be a champion driver one day, buddy.”

As Jack giggles, you can’t resist leaning in, continuing your playful banter. “Just make sure you don’t kiss Fred on the head like Daddy did! We can’t have any *Romeo* situations around here, right?”

Toto chuckles, shaking his head. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?”

“Absolutely!” You swipe again on your phone, revealing another meme. This one shows Toto and Fred dramatically standing on opposite sides of a balcony in Baku, both gazing longingly at each other. The caption reads:

When you’re in love, but the balcony is just too wide.

“Look at this one!” you say, holding it up for him. “It’s like a scene from a rom-com!”

Toto bursts out laughing, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, alright! Enough with the memes!”

You continue scrolling, revealing yet another gem. This one shows a split image: on one side, it’s you playfully rolling your eyes, and on the other, Toto and Fred looking lovingly at each other, with the caption:

When your wife is the third wheel in your love story.

Jack giggles, clearly catching on. “Daddy, are you going to let go of Fred?”

“No, no!” Toto exclaims, holding Jack tighter. “I’m not letting go of either of you!”

You grin widely, leaning your head against Toto’s shoulder. “Just remember, I’m still your number one, okay? Even if you’re making memes with Fred.”

“Of course, Y/n,” he murmurs, snuggling deeper into you. “You know you’re my one true love.”

You can’t help but laugh again, feeling the warmth of your family around you. “Just wait until the next meme drops. You might end up marrying Fred by the end of the season!”

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years ago

Text

starstrukk // zhou guanyu

summary: there were many things that fred vasseur took on when he became the team principal of alfa romeo racing. the hardest task, however, seems to currently be keeping zhou guanyu away from his daughter.

or, the four times that y/n vasseur and zhou guanyu were almost interrupted by fred, and the one time that he found out about his daughter and his rookie

pairing: zhou guanyu x vasseur! reader

warnings: fred is in a constant state of disappointed father energy, there will be multiple sex or almost-sex scenes, so you have been warned. secret relationships, google translated mandarin. mentions of silverstone 2022.

author's note: this is pure crack. i came up with this idea during me real estate law test review when i should have been paying attention and just chose not to.

when y/n met zhou.

she hated parties. especially team parties.

there was no reason for her to be at the gala, and she'd told her father as much, but he wanted his family around him to open the 2022 racing season. and, as much as she wanted to protest, y/n vasseur was a daddy's girl through and through. she loved her father to bits.

which was how she found herself dressed in a cherry red gown she bought at melanie lyne for less than $500, the dress that she wore to all of these stupid events, with her forty-dollar skin-tone aldo heels on underneath, her dark hair curled in her apartment bathroom less than an hour before. the curling iron hadn't been hot enough, and her hair was already starting to lose it's shape.

she was sitting at the table alone, reading a romance book on her phone that followed an fbi agent and the woman he was sworn to protect. it wasn't the best thing she had read in her life, but it was better than following her father around and pretending to be interested in chatting with representatives from orlen and singha.

that was the night that she met zhou guanyu for the first time.

the driver looked like a deer in headlights as fred paraded the rookie around the room, brushing elbows with investors. valtteri was smart enough to slip away from fred at any chance he could get, but zhou hadn't gotten the memo. he was new to this. he probably didn't even know that there was a memo to begin with.

when she saw how miserable the driver looked, it was like something inside her changed. she knew well enough that she had had that same look on her face throughout every sponsorship event she had attended since she was thirteen years old. she found herself shutting off her phone and slipping it into her sequined clutch purse before she made her way over to where her father and zhou were talking to a tuxedoed representative from mitsubishi.

"hi." she cut in, introducing herself as she stuck a hand out for the rookie driver to shake. "y/n vasseur. has my father bored you to death yet?"

she felt a sense of accomplishment when zhou smiled at her, his hand heavy and inviting in hers. "not yet, but i think i lost a few decades since this whole thing started."

"oh, you and me both."

the first time fred thought something was up.

it was the third race of the year. y/n vasseur was sitting in a corner office in the alfa romeo motorhome, her thick hair tied in a clumsy ponytail, legs crossed underneath her as she hunched over her macbook, a ceramic hot chocolate mug rapidly cooling next to her as she narrowed her eyes at the pdf file she was reading.

she considered herself lucky to be allowed to work remotely. she worried about fred a little too often, and found herself accompanying him to a few races a year, not just for the atmosphere, but to make sure that her father didn't work himself too hard.

the office door slowly clicked open, something she barely noticed as she chewed on the end of her pen, music thrumming through the airpod in her right ear.

the door closed as quietly as it had opened, two strong arms wrapping her in a warm, comforting embrace as zhou guanyu kissed her softly on the cheek.

"don't work yourself too hard, bao bei. you've been stressed out all weekend. i'm worried about you."

"if anyone should be worried, it should be me." she joked. "my boyfriend is the one who's about to strap himself into a three-hundred mile an hour death trap".

she leaned back in her chair, looking over at the driver. he still had his arms around her, and she reached up to lace her fingers with his.

"have you eaten yet? i brought you a bowl of fettucine from hospitality." zhou hummed, kissing her forehead.

"thank you, baby." she said softly, standing up from her desk chair to properly wrap her arms around the driver.

her father still didn't know that she was seeing his rookie driver. she knew that frederic would overreact, and someone (likely zhou) would lose their job, and all credibility within the sport, especially given how high-stress everybody felt during a race weekend. she was planning on at least waiting until the summer break to tell her father.

"i love you." she hummed, kissing him softly, one hand gently carding through zhou's hair as he held her, his tongue moving softly with hers.

"i love you more." he hummed, cradling her body close. "my lucky charm."

"hm, yeah? i'm your lucky charm?" she giggled, pressing up on her tiptoes, looping her arms around her lover's neck.

"yeah, yeah you are." he hummed, kissing her again as she pushed him down onto the couch, halfheartedly looking over at the large tinted window to make sure that the blinds were drawn enough that nobody could see what they were about to do.

she kicked off her slip-on vans, straddling zhou with one knee on either side of his lap as she kissed him hard, grinding down on his lap, one hand on either side of his face. the driver clutched her thighs, moaning softly as he tilted his head back to allow the heated make-out session to take on a better angle.

"mhm, should i give you a little extra luck, baby?" she hummed, gently tugging at his hair before she kissed him deeply, one hand moving down his chest.

"mhm, yeah, how are you going to do that, angel face?" he breathed as she kissed his neck, hands fumbling with the buttons on his slacks.

"i can think of a few ways." she grinned, wrapping her palm around zhou's erection before moving her hand up and down his shaft, peppering kisses to his neck as she worked.

"oh, bao bei." he hummed, throwing his head back. "just like that, darling. just like that." he moaned as he bucked his hips into her hand, and she could feel the heat building up between her legs as she slipped off his lap, hand still working as she situated herself between his spread legs.

she smiled up at her lover, pressing a kiss to his thigh before taking his length into her mouth, hands braced on his thighs as zhou moaned in pleasure, biting his lower lip as so not to be heard through the thin walls before he mumbled something in mandarin.

"your mouth feels like heaven, baby." he hummed, reaching down to wrap his hand around her ponytail. "take it nice and slowly, let's not rush this."

he leaned back against the couch, another strangled moan leaving his throat.

until there was a knock on the door.

y/n had never sprung to her feet so fast, wiping the drool from the corner of her mouth with the hem of her cotton crop top, her lover's still-hard cock falling from her mouth as she looked over at the door.

"y/n? are you in there, kiddo?" fred vasseur's voice echoed into the room, panic sinking into y/n's bones.

"closet, now." she hissed, practically pulling zhou off the couch. "he can't know you're here." she turned back to the door as her boyfriend backed into the small closet, a throw pillow from the couch covering his painful hard on. "one second, dad!"

she kissed zhou apologetically before she closed the closet door, quickly giving her appearance a once over in her phone camera before opening the office door.

"hey, dad. what's up?"

"just checking on my beautiful daughter." fred vasseur answered honestly, pulling his daughter in for a hug. "are you coming out to watch the qualifying session?"

y/n nodded. "yeah, i need a break from my work. i feel like my eyes have gone numb from staring at that screen all morning. how are you doing? you aren't working too hard?"

fred shrugged. "you know how it is. have you had lunch yet?"

y/n nodded. "i had something brought up from hospitality, literally like ten minutes ago. i haven't eaten yet, though. when does qualifying start?"

"in about an hour. i'm trying to wrangle the drivers. you haven't seen guanyu, have you?"

"no, i haven't sorry." she wondered if she answered too fast, if her dad knew something was up.

if her dad knew that his rookie driver was hiding in her office closet. that zhou guanyu's cock had been down his daughter's throat not even a minute before she opened that office door. "dad, i hate to cut this short, but i really do have work to do."

fred cleared his throat "right, sorry kiddo." he looked like he was about to back away, when he paused. "do i smell men's cologne?"

shit. zhou's dior cologne had a very distinct smell to it, following the chinese driver around like a cloud.

"dad!" she warned, moving to close the door. "you have work to do!"

"no boyfriends in the motorhome, y/n! you know the rules!"

"goodbye, dad!"

at the sound of the door closing, zhou knocked on the closet door from the inside. "can i come out now?"

she opened the closet door, frowning sadly at her boyfriend. "hey. sorry about my dad. no boys in the motorhome has been a rule since i was sixteen. not like i ever had boys to bring in to the motorhome."

"it's okay." zhou said softly, kissing her on the forehead, one hand cupping the side of her face. "i know why you don't want him to know about us."

"thank you for understanding, guanyu. i love you, baby." she pressed up against her boyfriend to kiss him softly, her tongue slipping into his mouth before she gently bit down on his bottom lip.

"now, let's take care of that pesky little problem you've got down there." she hummed mischeviously, her hand sliding down the front of his boxers.

now fred definitely knows that something is up, but he doesn't know with who.

the sun was filtering through the sheer curtains into y/n vasseur's bedroom. she was curled up comfortably underneath the goose down duvet, zhou guanyu's arms wrapped securely around her, her head resting on his chest as she stirred awake.

"good morning, gorgeous." zhou hummed, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she nuzzled her nose into his bare chest.

"mornin'." she grumbled, pulling the covers up over their groggy bodies. "can i go back to bed?"

zhou laughed, running his fingers through her hair. "don't you have to go to work?"

she shook her head, hooking her leg over zhou's thigh before kissing him softly. "i'm working from home today. do you have to do anything?"

"just a sponsorship meeting." he hummed softly, kissing her again.

"so we can stay in bed longer?" y/n said hopefully, raising her eyebrows as she moved to straddle her lover, silk pajama shorts riding up on her thighs.

"of course we can, angel face." zhou grins, his hands on her hips as he rolled their bodies over so that he was hovering over her, his arms caging her to the bed.

he kissed her softly, smiles of contentment blooming on their faces. y/n loved soft, cozy mornings like these. mornings where she could lie in bed with the man she loved, feeling safe, loved and secure. days where they would be content doing nothing at all.

"i love mornings like these." she hummed as zhou softly pressed kisses to her face, the knotted drawstring of his sweatpants pressing into her bare stomach where the old band shirt she slept in had ridden up. "just you and me. no worries, no responsibilities." she giggled as zhou blew a raspberry into her neck.

"so how do you want to spend this free morning?" zhou hummed, his fingers teasing the waistband of her shorts.

"i can think of a few ideas." she said huskily, raising an eyebrow as she slipped one hand down the back of her lover's sweatpants to cup the globe of his ass within her palm.

zhou smiled, leaning in to kiss her sweetly, and deeply. "i like the way you think, vasseur."

she hooked her leg over his thigh, grinding against the ever-growing bulge in her boyfriend's sweatpants as zhou slipped his tongue into her mouth. she moaned in contentment, burying her fingers in his hair as the driver gripped her thigh tightly.

zhou's nimble fingers began to unlace the drawstring resting just below his lover's navel when her cell phone began to ring from the nightstand.

"motherfucker!" y/n groaned, gently pushing zhou off of her. "again, dad! seriously?"

zhou chuckled, sitting back on his heels. "how do you know it's your dad?"

"because my phone is on 'do not disturb' and he's one of three people that are on the greenlit calls list." she groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes.

her lover looked at her thoughtfully, running his thumb over the soft flesh of her calf. "do you want me to run you a shower, bao bei? that way the water is all warm and ready for you when you're done talking to your dad?"

"that would be great, love. thank you." she hummed, sitting up and kissing zhou softly before reaching for her phone. once zhou was safely out of her bedroom, she swiped to answer the whatsapp video call from her father. "hi, dad. why in god's name are you calling me at seven in the morning on a friday?"

fred vasseur chuckled, looking at his daughter's dishevelled appearance and the messy, crinkled sheets that she had pulled around her shoulders. "i was just double checking if we were doing lunch today or tomorrow. your mother tried to get me on that google calendar thing, but i don't think it synced properly with my phone and i can't find the lunch anywhere."

y/n groaned, rolling her eyes. "dad, that could have been a text message."

"i know. but i just wanted to talk to my baby girl."

"dad, i'm twenty-two years old, hardly your baby girl any more." she chuckled, running a hand through her hair.

frederic smiled. "nonsense, y/n. you'll always be my little girl."

she could hear the shower in her miniscule ensuite bathroom whistle to life, the rush of warm water a comforting background noise through the pale pink wall.

"y/n, is there someone else in your apartment? is that why you wanted to get rid of me so easily?"

"no!" y/n said, again, a little too fast for her father not to have gathered that there was, in fact, another person in her apartment. "i just turned the shower on before i answered your call. you know how long that the water takes to warm up in my apartment."

"babe!"

fuck me. y/n visibly recoiled when zhou's voice echoed through the apartment.

"what body wash did you want?" the rookie driver grinned, sticking his head out the doorframe.

y/n glared at him, hiding the camera from her father as she made a slicing motion across her throat to indicate that the driver should probably stop talking.

"y/n y/m/n vasseur! do you have a boy in your apartment? and is that a hickey on your neck?"

"i'll meet you for lunch at 1:30, the usual spot." y/n said hurriedly, grabbing her cell phone from the mattress next to her and reasdjusting the duvet that was wrapped around her shoulders so that her father couldn't see the glaring red mark where her neck met her collarbone. "we are not talking about my love life at any point today."

"no, i think it's good that you've found someone!" fred beamed. "is it somebody that i know?"

"no, dad. i'm not dating within the sport." she wondered if her father could hear the untruths in her voice. "but i'm not ready to introduce him to the dumpster fire that which is my father's workplace."

"do i at least get a name?"

"goodbye, dad." she groaned, hanging up before she flopped back on the bed, head in her hands as she fought the urge to scream.

the time he guessed but knew better than to say anything.

the silverstone crash had rattled everybody. but what hurt y/n vasseur the most was having to keep her emotion under wraps as she watched her boyfriend's car flip over going into the first corner, the halo dragging across the tarmac and the grass before tumbling over a tyre barrier.

as far as her father was concerned, her friendship with zhou guanyu was strictly platonic, and she was struggling to keep her composure. she needed to be as calm as every other person in the alfa romeo garage as she stood on the pit wall next to her father, nervously clutching frederic's arm and chewing on her nails to distract herself.

to refrain from shouting out, refrain from sobbing.

her lover was strapped in a tin death trap, dangling from his seat and pressed up against the chain link fence, and she couldn't show any emotion whatsoever.

when it was confirmed that zhou was okay, and he had been transferred to the medical bay, y/n finally allowed herself to feel the torrent of emotions that she had kept bottled up like the seashells and sand she kept in that jar on her mantel.

she made her way out into the paddock, still struggling to force her weak, cement-block legs to move, trying to process the gut-wrenching, straight out of tv moment that had just unfolded in front of her eyes.

the first few silent tears began to fall, and when she walked past charles leclerc, who grabbed her by the arm and asked if she was okay, the monegasque driver's voice sounding like it was miles away, she woke up.

and she let out the first heart-breaking sob as she collapsed against charles' side, still unable to find the words.

how was she supposed to explain that she had just watched the love of her life almost lose his.

"i love him!" she coughed out, struggling to stand on her own two feet as charles gripped her arms, trying to avoid making a scene. "can you take me to see him, charles? i need to see guanyu."

if charles was fazed by how shaken up his former team principal's daughter was, he didn't show it as he guided her towards the medical bay, allowing the french girl to compose herself before going inside.

her face was red and puffy, and it was clear as day to all inside the room that she had been sobbing just moments before. she waved wearily at alex albon, who flashed her a look of discomfort along with a subtle raise of the hand as one of the nurses conducted an ultrasound on his wrist.

she quietly asked one of the nurses where her lover was before slipping behind the thin plastic sheet keeping zhou's condition private from the rest of the wards.

"you scared me, jackass." she tried to smile, voice shaky as she tried not to cry. "i'm glad that you're okay."

"oh, bao bei." zhou's voice wavered. "come here. i'm so sorry for scaring you, but i'm fine, see?"

shaking her head, y/n slipped onto the hospital bed next to zhou, gingerly wrapping her arms around him before pressing a single kiss to the side of his head, balaclava lines still visible on his face. "please, never do that to me again."

"i'm not going anywhere, angel face." he sighed, turning his head to kiss her. "i was so scared. i genuinely thought i wasn't going to be able to get out of that car. if it wasn't for george..."

"i know, honey." y/n sighed, resting her forehead against his as a tear began to fall down her face, following the tracks of the many salty emotions that had spilled over before it. "i love you." she whispered, her lips ghosting over her boyfriends skin as she curled into his side.

the plastic curtain slid open again, and fred vasseur jokingly knocked on the wall before making his way inside. if he was at all shocked at the sight of his driver and his daughter curled up in the hospital bed, he didn't show it.

fred had been beginning to suspect something was up in his daughter's love life for a few months now. but if this breif moment in time was confirming anything at all in his mind, he chose to keep it to himself.

"hey, champ. that's one hell of a recovery you've made."

and the time that fred vasseur walked in on a very compromising situation.

the moon was high as fred vasseur steered the alfa romeo into his daughter's driveway. the team had just had a sponsorship meeting, a gala if you will, and y/n and zhou had decided that it would just bea easier for zhou to just leave his car outside y/n's flat.

of course, what fred didn't need to know was that zhou guanyu had just spent the weekend at his daughter's flat, and had really all but moved in with her.

"thanks for the ride, dad. i'll call you in the morning." y/n said, leaning over the console to kiss her father on the cheek before opening the passenger side door and slipping out of the luxury vehicle.

behind her, zhou slipped almost ghost-like out of the backseat, waiting for frederic to reverse out of the driveway before he allowed himself to slip his arm around his girlfriend's waist, the couple turning to walk up the cobblestone drive to y/n's front door.

as soon as the front door was closed and they were certain that they wouldn't get caught, y/n slipped out of her leather jacket, spinning barefoot in the front hall so the shimmery black fabric of her gown swirled around her legs.

this was a different dress than the one she normally wore to such an event. she decided to change things up this far into the season. and it helped that her boyfriend was sponsored by dior and prada.

"i'm not going to lie," she hummed, reaching for zhou's collar and undoing the first few buttons on the white silk shirt she wore underneath his suit jacket. "it's been very hard to keep my hands off of you tonight. you look very sexy in a suit, my love."

zhou smiled, sliding his hands gently over his girlfriend's waist. "well, clearly you are the only one who had that problem."

"yeah, what were you thinking with that under-the-table stuff?" y/n giggled, playfully smacking zhou's chest. "i thought for sure that dad would realize something was up."

"i was barely touching you." zhou laughed, "my hand was literally just on your thigh."

"yeah, under my dress!" she smiled, pressing up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. "i love you, zhou guanyu."

"love you more, y/n vasseur."

they kissed softly in the front hall, both parties finding it increasingly difficult to keep the kisses gentle and sweet as hands began to grip tender flesh tighter, hands fumbling with buttons on shirts, sliding up slits in dresses. teeth nipping at lips, tongues brushing up against each other, sharp gasps escaping throats.

zhou's suit jacket fell to the floor, his shirt hanging limply off his frame without the buttons to hold it closed, his lover's hands roaming his warm, soft skin as his lips dipped down to kiss her neck, backing her up against the kitchen island.

"zhou, honey," she breathed, fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked a hickey into her collarbone. "i'm not wearing a bra."

zhou paused, drawing away from y/n's neck to look her in the eyes, a cheeky grin on his face as he brushed her hair behind her ear. "just when i thought you couldn't get any sexier."

he kissed her again, hungry and full of passion as his hand slinked around her back to undo the ties holding her dress together, watching the straps slip down her shoulders and reveal her perfect, beautiful breasts.

"you're the most beautiful woman i have ever met." he mumbled huskily, kissing her again as her hands wrapped around his biceps, his hands moving to grope her chest, feeling himself getting harder with every breathy whine she let out.

switching his focus to her neck, he slipped his hands underneath the glittery lace of her dress, teasing his fingers along the outline of her lacy panties.

"guanyu," she whined, voice shaky and desperate, bucking her hips against his slender, nimble fingers. "i need you so badly. i need you to fuck me."

"i've got you, bao bei." he hummed, kissing her forehead sweetly before tugging at the waistband of her panties, doing his best not to rip them but simultaneously not caring if he tore them in half.

the skimpy fabric fell to the floor, y/n's hands flying to the fabric covering her lover's very obvious hard-on. she undid the button holding his slacks together, slipping her hand into his boxers before palming his cock and guiding it towards the center of her spread legs.

he sunk inside of her, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she cursed in french, the end of the curse pitching into a moan as he began to thrust inside her, a deep groan leaving his own throat

"fuck, just like that, baby." she whined, throwing her head back as her fingernails dug into his shoulders, his cock sliding in and out of her dripping core, each thrust sending shockwaves through her body.

"y/n?" a heavily accented voice called from the front hallway, followed shortly by the front door swinging shut. "you left your purse in my- holy mary mother of christ!"

"dad!? what the fuck?" y/n screamed, jumping off the counter and scrambling to right her dress as zhou hastily does up the zipper on his slacks, turning his back to his team principal. "you can't just barge into my flat!"

"you left the door unlocked!" fred vassuer moaned, his eyes still closed. "can i open my eyes yet? are you both decent?"

"uhh, i think so?" she said hesitantly, panic flaring in her bones as she scrambled to kick her discarded panties behind the island and out of sight. "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"you left your purse in my car." fred glared, passing his daughter the small dooney and bourke handbag. "i've known somethignw as up since silverstone, but seriously? on the kitchen island? you guys haven't been home half an hour yet!"

"i'm so sorry, sir." zhou pleaded, reaching for his girlfriend's hand. "we never meant for it to be like this. we were going to tell you once the season was over."

"were you at least using protection? or not, i mean, i'd like to become a grandfather before i die."

"dad!" y/n scolded. "can we talk about this another time, please?"

"i am so taking that ferrari job."

Tags:

@sidcrosbyspuck @magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @daydreamingleclerc @scuderiamh @estevries

#zhou guanyu x y/n #zhou guanyu x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lovelytsunodas katy perry series

714 notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 6 months ago

Text

The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 7

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!

You were scared to be anywhere right now. You couldn't go home, and you no longer felt safe in London. The reason you weren't at Free Practice or anything else was because you'd not only missed your first plane but you were in the police station.

Someone had broken into your house and many notes had been left, the death threats had increased in your DM's after the picture of you and Lewis and your house had been trashed.

You were so shaken, you didn't know what to do when you first found your house like that. You didn't know who to call or where to go, you were completely alone. You called your dad not really knowing who to go to.

He was over in half an hour to find you sobbing on the floor of your apartment. He was the one who phoned the police and phoned ahead to your team explaining that you wouldn't be there with them. And to potentially prepare fo you to not race.

You'd been quick to shut that down, saying you'd make it for qually just not the free practices as the police needed you today and by the time you could get on the next flight to Miami FP2 would be well underway.

This is why you'd turned up to the track so tired.

You also didn't feel safe anywhere at the track when you were there. Everywhere you went it felt like someone was following you or that someone was going to do something.

That's why you'd also remained so close to your team and tried to go as undercover as possible.

You didn't feel like you could go home to your parents as it was an impact to them and even though Fred Vasseur had offered to accommodate you before Spain you also didn't want to impede on his personal life.

You thought the only option was hotel hopping until the Spanish GP but that didn't seem financially possible.

So you phoned the one person you thought might be able to help.

"Hello?" you sigh into the phone from your Miami hotel room.

"Hello?" the thick Spanish accent comes through and you sigh relieved you had the correct number.

"It's Y/N, L-Lando gave me your number!" you explain and you can hear the rustle of some sheets before he replies.

"Mmmmm, what did you need hermosa?" he asks with a yawn, and you bite your lip in anticipation not wanting to ask him the question.

"Can we talk, in your room please? I need to ask you something!" you say and Carlos instantly can tell this is serious.

"Of course hermosa, room 407!" he says and you hang up. He was a few floors above you, so you took the lift up to the fourth floor. It was a short ride but you were legging it out the door the minute you could, eager to see Carlos.

You stand outside the room, a second of hesitation before you lightly knock. You are about to knock again, worried he didn't here you when the door swings open and you are pulled into the room.

"What's going on with you ...!" he asks looking at you and for the first time since the incident your eyes start to fill up with tears. You pull him into a hug and the way his arms encase around you made you feel safe and secure.

It was this incredible kind of bear hug.

"I-" you start but your words physically don't come out.

"Take your time its okay!" he says guiding you to the sofa in his room and making you take a seat.

"I need somewhere to lie low before the Spanish GP, i was hoping if it's not too much to ask if I stay with you?" you choke out and he looks at you in shock.

"This isn't me saying no, so don't take this the wrong way. But why? What's going on. Everyone is worried about you!" Carlos pushes and you nod, knowing it was better to tell him what happened. That's what the phycologist in the police station told you anyway.

"My house was broken into... and there were notes in the house that were death threats and my DM death threats have increased since the whole me and Lewis picture ..." you sniffle looking up at him and he pulls you into a hug again.

"What do you mean broken into, what notes?" he asks and you hand him your phone that had all the pictures for evidence.

"Holy shit!" he breathes out.

"That's why i missed out all the free practices, i missed my flight and was in the police station submitting a report... I'm so scared and I don't feel safe anywhere anymore" you explain tears coming to your eyeline. Carlos looks you dead in the eye, holding both sides of your face before pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

In the moment, needing that comfort you lean closer fully taking him in.

He pulls back and you smile.

"Y/N, I will be there for you whenever you need me! You can stay with me as long as you need to. I promise no questions asked" he offers holding one of your hands in your lap, holding an intimate sort of eye-contact with those puppy dog eyes of his.

"Thank you Carlos, I can't thank you enough!" you smile pulling him into a hug.

"Could i - stay for the night. I'm scared to be alone in my room!" you say awkwardly feeling like you are asking for too much.

"Come on. Lets get you to bed!" he smiles pulling you into him and walking over to the bed. You were already in pajamas so you settled into the bed, facing where he would get in and lay down.

He lays down under the covers next to you, facing you as well. You both just look at each other in a calm understanding.

"You are so beautiful!" he smiles pushing some hair behind your ear. You cant help but blush and close your eyes to try and control your breathing at his warm touch.

"Are you so sure we can do this mi amore?" he whispers at you a teasing tone in his voice, and you can feel the blush on your cheeks rise even higher.

God, if you were going to be living with this man and his family how would you survive.

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