#wearing a shirt that says ask me about my au
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College AU Sevika x reader
A/N: I havent posted a new chapter since last year hihihi. Sorry I had to make that joke
In all seriousness, sorry for making yall wait for so long, ive been doing a bit shit.
One last thing, Im very scared of mischaracterising my girl Sevika so please let me know if i write her in a way that does not seem right🙏
this chapter has a reference to reader having long hair.
(only semi-proofread)
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You’re abruptly awoken by Sevikas alarm going off, you hear her groan before hearing some rustling. You’re just about to get up to turn the alarm off yourself but then it stops ringing. The bed creaks and Sevika groans again, then yawns.
You turn in your bed, facing her now instead of the wall. You crack one eye open slightly, trying to savor the sleepiness you were still feeling. “Morning” you say, voice just above a whisper. “Morning” she replies, voice gravelly yet soft. “I’m sorry did I wake you?” she asks.
You shrug your shoulders. “Why are you up so early Sev?”
You had given her the nickname ‘Sev’ a little over a week ago and she hasn’t told you to stop yet, so you were going to keep calling her that until she did.
“It’s really not that early,” she says. “but I wanted to go to the gym before class.”
“Oh yeah, forgot you’re a gym bro,” you joke. She rolls her eyes but a small chuckle escapes her lips. “Also waking up early is good for you.”
You roll your eyes at her. “Sure” you say before turning back around to catch a little more sleep. You listen to the subtle sounds of her getting ready for the gym before drifting back into a comfortable sleep.
You’re once again woken up against your will, this time by Sevika opening the door and entering the room. “Are you still asleep?” Are the first words that come out of her mouth. You open your eyes and are met with a shirtless Sevika. She's wearing a simple black sports bra and black sweatpants. The t-shirt she was wearing earlier is now draped off her waist, one end of it tucked into the front of her waistband, the rest hanging loose.
Her giant arms and impressive abs are on full display and you can’t help but admire them. She starts making her way over to her closet. “As a matter of fact, I was just about to get up” you lie. You sit up and the blanket falls off of you, the cold air of the room suddenly hitting you. You shiver, quickly pulling the blankets up to your chin.
“Sev, could you grab me a hoodie from my closet please, it’s freezing in here.” you ask her. She turns towards you. “Dude you’re so dramatic, it’s not that cold” she says, walking to your closet anyway and grabbing a plain dark green hoodie. She throws it to you and you thank her.
“I’m gonna go shower quickly, do you wanna get breakfast together?” She asks, once again rummaging around in her closet, presumably looking for something to wear. “Yeah sure” you reply. “I’ve gotta call my grandma in a bit though, she’s very serious about our weekly calls, especially now that I'm at college and can’t visit her as often,” you add.
“You’re really close to your grandma right?” she asks. You simply nod.
You’ve been really close to your grandma for as long as you can remember. When you were very little you were over at your grandmas all the time, when your mum was at work, shopping, going out with friends. And both you and your grandma absolutely loved it.
As you got older you just got closer and closer, coming over for a cup of tea, baking cookies together, preparing Christmas dinner and all sorts of other fun activities. You told her everything. So she was naturally sad to see you leave for college. You had promised to call her at least once a week, if not more.
She had also said she’d come ‘break you out of that joint’ if it ever got too much. She’s the sweetest old lady and you love her to death, and so does your mother. Sometimes when you call her you’ll hear your mother coming in to visit grandma, so you stay a little longer, gossiping with both of them and telling them how much you miss them.
“That’s cute” she says, you think you hear a slight hint of sadness or disappointment in her voice but you shrug it off. She grabs all of her shower stuff and heads out the door. You get up out of bed and stretch your arms out over your head. You grab your phone from your nightstand and go to your grandma's contact, clicking the little phone button and calling her.
The harsh beeptone starts playing, indicating that you were, in fact, calling your grandma. After it goes off a few times she picks up. “Good morning darling, how are you?” a slightly scratchy voice sounds from the phone. “Hello grandma, I’m doing alright, how about you?”
“I’m doing alright darling, how's college? Are you and your roommate getting along?” She asks, “Yeah, she’s really nice, and a good roommate too. She cleans up after herself, isn't too loud. And another bonus, she doesn’t mind my endless yapping.” You say, finishing with a small chuckle. “I told you you’d be alright, how’s that boy of yours, Ekko?” She asks.
Ekko has been around your grandma's house many times as well while you two were growing up.
“Yeah he's good too grandma, and he's not my boy” you say sternly. “That's good to hear darling, I’ve always liked that boy. When you two were little you were attached at the hip.” She says with a little laugh, remembering all the shenanigans you and ekko got up to back in the day.
“Yeah, I’d say we still are” You laugh. You put the phone back down on your nightstand, and tap the speaker button. Sevika never takes very long to get ready, so you want to be close to ready when she returns, so you can leave for breakfast quickly.
You open one of the drawers under your bed, the one with all of your pants in it, and happily chat away with your grandma while trying to find the right pair of jeans for the day. She talks about some of the neighborhood gossip. Your grandma seems to know everyone in town and also everything about everyone, so gossip sessions are always fun with her.
You pick out baggy light wash denim jeans to wear for today, also grabbing a black belt from the drawer. You close the drawer and lay the pants and belt down on your bed. You then open the second clothes drawer and grab a tight, black, long sleeve shirt. You also lay this down on the bed, then make your way over to the closet. You grab a dirty grey colored jacket and also lay that down on the bed.
You get dressed, tucking the long sleeve into your jeans and throwing on the jacket, zipping it up about halfway. You're still on the phone with your grandma while doing your hair, you let out a few frustrated grunts. “What's wrong dear?” She questions
“My hair is being SO annoying right now, I just want to wear a high ponytail but there's bumps every time I put the elastic in.” You groan. “Just wear your hair down,” she replies, probably with a shrug. “No I can do it,” you say. Trying one last time to put your hair up, you brush it all back and grab it with one hand, plucking out two little strands of hair to frame your face. You slide the elastic off your wrist, twisting it around the ponytail. You almost cheer when you see you finally succeeded.
You sit down on your bed and just as you do, Sevika walks in. “Hi, I’m still on the phone with my grandma if you wanna say hi.” you say. “Hi miss y/l/n” she says. “Hello dear”
“I’m assuming that means you have to hang up then?” She asks, clearly a little disappointed. “Yeah sorry grandma” you reply. Sevika had started getting ready almost as soon as she had gotten back from her shower, and somehow she was almost done already.
“I will talk to you later grandma, have a good day” you tell her, she tells you to have a good day too and you hang up. Putting on your jewelry as a finishing touch before heading out to grab breakfast with Sevika.
--------------------------------------------------------If you would like to be tagged, please let me know
Tag list: @0eatmysoulll0-blog @misswynters @vikaswife @ladycupa0-0 @d3adbrainer @vintage-karma @gravegoer @sevikasrightboob
#arcane#arcane fanfic#sevika#sevika fanfic#sevika x reader#college au#writing#fanfic#my post#text post
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What if hit campaign convergence were to end up in the qsmp, an au. Aka I realized both jrwi convergence and the qsmp had important things that were eggs so I made an au about it.
Au notes under under cut
So the 7 eggs from convergence become alive/sentient when the crew ends up in the qsmp after another world hop. And on one hand they can leave but on the other whenever they try the eggs just run off so no chickens crossing the road for them.
Oh also I did name the eggs. From left to right it's: Yggdrasil, Bingus, Mayo, Brooklyn, Ranger, Nebula, and Spore.
Also this follows my personal canon since convergence is currently not finished and therefore lore is my jungle gym. Anyways after saving the universe from the convergence they all just stay together as a team to do lil odd-jobs <3
They also wouldn't be trusted much by the Islanders at first OR the federation. The feds are NOT happy about the convergence crew just appearing on the island out of nowhere. But slowly the Islanders come around to them like "Oh the federation doesn't like you so you've got to be against them"
Anyways Kroe somehow becoming a staple babysitter for eggs and being on that single parent grind with 7 eggs while Strangle is off finding a way off the island and accidentally befriending like Cellbit and Roier, Kasper is off doing who knows what being labeled as suspicious by everyone, Flynn accidentally ends up in exile and is concerned, and Alastyr is befriending silly scientists
Please ask me more about this au or give your own thoughts please please
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Self indulgent reformed Harley... I rotate her in my brain like a microwave....
#i should just write a fic#narsposting#dc comics#batman#harley quinn#fun fact!! according up btas she is not a natural blonde#also. wearing a shirt that says ask me about my reformed harley au
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So uh, Curtwen in Hatchetfield au?
This fully stemmed from one thought I had abt these two in a Nightmare Time-esque story and I haven't been able to stop thinking abt it. More lore and details under the cut
Curt is a detective who used to be the best in his field until a case in Hatchetfield led to the death of his partner. He did his best to leave everything behind but 4 years later, a new lead comes to him that drives him back to the town.
There's a horror movie franchise using Hatchetfield as it's filming location and the town is reacting exactly the way you'd expect
Owen is a semi known actor who plays the lead in the movie, his acting career was put on hold for a minute due to a major accident but since his recovery he's been networking and this is the first major role he's taken since his break
The case that's haunted Curt had to do with a serial killer he was never able to catch. While on the case something happened that resulted in his partner sustaining a fatal injury that he blamed himself for
The two of them meet when people working on the production start to receive mysterious threats and have to start working together
Owen's not going to let the threats slide and wants to get to the bottom of it, and Curt's not used to working alone and he's been out of the field for so long that he reluctantly agrees to work with Owen
It's buddy cop story. It's just a buddy cop story.
There are more lore ideas that I have as well as like, ideas for possible character interactions but yeah
#wearing a shirt that says please ask me about my aus#hatchetfield#spies are forever#agent curt mega#owen carvour#curtwen#saf hatchetfield au#adrien's art stuff#adrien rambles
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the gangs all here!
#my art#infinite the jackal#gadget the wolf#barry the quokka#sonic the hedgehog#surge the tenrec#shadow the hedgehog#love hospital#my ocverse#sonic au#emo art#wearing a big shirt that says “ask me about my ocverse OR my sonic ocverse AU”#blood tw
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i get so happy whenever people say they like my bug fables human designs :-] !!
A buddy and I have been working on a human AU for ages so I'm glad people like the very surface level stuff I've shown...even if it is mainly just characters standing in a white void
#talking#it really is incredibly surface level stuff..theres so much lore and details to it all#wearing my big shirt that says “ask me about my bf AU”
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thinking about my convexian serial killer au
#wearing a shirt that says ask me questions about my convexian serial killer au#convexian#convexian serial killer au#hermitcraft#hermitblr#hermitshipping#fanfiction#ben chats shit on the internet#murder#idk what the hell to tag this for ppls blocklists. sorry#gtws#cubfan135#grian
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behold!! the product of eternal double brainrot!! @ladydragonkiller IT HAS BEEN MADE sorta (?) inspired by the end of all things by meverri
#mentally i am wearing a shirt that says#'ask me about why daisy is legolas for this au'#cea's art#tma lotr au#<- ok that's my tag for this#tma#daisy tonner#basira hussain#melanie king#gerry keay#jon sims#martin blackwood#sasha james#tim stoker#daisira#wow that's a lotta tags
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saw @bismutharts post and you didn't tag me explicitly but it looked fun so :3 Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs
not putting all my wips because that would be crazy and i have a few big bang drafts that are top secret. but here are the recent ones, mix of fanfiction and originals: No DL-6 desmond discovers human connection Dragon Slayers father daughter angst crossover Flora Layton and the intricate web of lesbian drama adventures in space 4 Systems
i tag @alto-tenure @magicwhiskers29 @toy-pigeon and any other mutuals who write. yes that means you reading this ☝
#wearing a t-shirt that says ask me about my no dl6 au i will be so normal i promise#(i will not)#ace attorney causes me such brainworms it's a problem
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wait you got me so invested in the stammer & heddy tailor au....
this is my standard disclaimer that i have never posted a fic on ao3* and for however much i say “au” i truly mean that it’s a universe that lives in my head & i am absolutely delighted to tell you all about, all the time <3 if it helps i ALSO got me so invested in the heddy & stammer tailor au
ok now that the author’s note is out of the way here’s some notes about the not!fic heddy & stammer tailor au:
stammer as the tailor from gent’s playbook, very reserved, quiet, with an excellent eye for details (honestly the evidence i have for his style sense is just that he’s best friends with pk subban so it has to be there somewhere if only by proxy irl) is hired by victor hedman, star of the tampa bay lightning who is every other tailor’s nightmare to dress (huge, opinionated, fashionable)
heddy is decently well-known throughout the league for being very well-dressed & becomes quietly well known for also being one of his new tailor’s favorite loyal customers [heddy has the nicest fabrics. he has his suits the first day a new collection drops & e v e r y o n e is jealous]
stammer’s business booms after heddy takes a chance on him as his first big client & promotes him, heddy sees him grow in popularity & get more clients
heddy also moonlights as a model for stammer’s suits on instagram, initially to help him grow his business because then he won’t have to pay for a model and then because he’s over there all the time anyway because they’re dating (that’s why the model’s face is never in the pictures)
there’s not really a plot to this besides the vague idea of a plot where stammer makes heddy his lucky suit that he wins the cup in & sews a special little tag into the lining of his jacket that says i love you
because love sometimes is picking out the perfect right color pocket square to match your husband’s beautiful suit that you fitted like a kiss to the curves of his huge body
& also sometimes love is making your beautiful husband who makes you beautiful clothing enjoy nice things for himself once in a while, like the fancy watch you bought him or the nice suit you custom-ordered for him (from him) just so you could take it off of him
#*i did very much post a zine on ao3 that was part of a really fun exchange that i loved doing (thank you leah for organizing!!!)#& had a fantastic time with however i have not strictly speaking posted a fic. one day i will. eventually. hopefully. pray for me :)#also one time my horoscope told me i was a ‘neutral projector’ & i’ve never felt more called out (‘loves making up things’/‘will not#actually write or plot but will explain every intricate detail of their world & character relationships’/‘hype up every member of the#writing chat & give good advice but never follow it’) like HI CAN U NOT DO THIS TO ME HOROSCOPE THANKS i was read to FILTH#liv in the replies#i do LOOOOOVE me a good one of them plays hockey the other one does not au sometimes they’re so fun to explore dynamics outside/inside sport#at the time i came up with this stammer was out on IR & heddy kept showing up to the playoffs in ridiculously nice suits what was i to do??#the gent’s playbook tailor will sometimes model his own suits w/o showing his own face which made it look like he had a secret model come in#heddy canonically says his suits make him feel better when he plays esp during playoffs & if he wins in a suit he’ll keep wearing it#oh also the truth of the love is in the pocket square bit? angela price i will never forget. anyway that blue suit i posted in the last ask#with the perfect pink pocket square? that pocket square is a pair of stammer’s boxers heddy took To Me. in my brain#me about the beautiful clothing: this is like daisy crying in gatsby’s silk shirts except it’s baby alpaca fur & also it’s not sad#it’s simply decadent & the inherent intimacy of a fitting mapping the body yada yada yada knowing the ways to flatter someone is a form#of loving them etc etc. love is art love is food love is given love is stored in the custom three-piece suit and tie#is this an enemies to lovers? workplace drama? is the secret plot i only just now invented & added that heddy is ‘difficult to work with’#but it’s just because he wants to look good & in the words of his own (real) tailor the hardest guy to fit because he’s so big? OHHH HOLD IT#I GOT THE PLOT IN THE TAGS Y’ALL AND IT’S STAMMER TEACHING HEDDY TO LOVE HIS BODY heddy who’s been told what to/not wear & you know.#the commodification of the body in hockey (but we’re not getting that deep) but stammer with a mouth full of pins tightening heddy’s pant#leg down even further as he listens to what heddy wants for once & lets him pick fabrics (this is the daisy shirt moment but it’s heddy#looking at fabric swatches dozens of books of them stammer helps him pick out matching linings &outsides &squares) & stammer compliments him#& they’re in love & idk NEARLY enough abt fashion but there r like codes? messages? to wearing suits i think w/the etiquette so that too#should this have also gone under a readmore? yeah probably. whoops#victor hedman#steven stamkos#tampa bay lightning
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going on anon cuz im a coward but looking at ur account makes me want to continue my pokemon (as in.. they r the pokemon) crossover au tbh........ NOT IN A RUDE WAY I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT...
doint be scared.... I dont bite.... LMAO JK I GET IT. BUT ALSO THAT SOUNDS SO COOL I LOVE POKEMON CROSSOVER AUS... i have a few myself... and some pmd aus (yes. Both they're the trainers and they're the pokemon. one for each) ^____^ I HAVENT POSTED ABOUT THEM ON HERE BUT I. DO HAVE THAT WITH SOME INTERESTS LIKE persona or total drama or w/e. so I get it. really real. THATS REALLY AWESOME THOUGH I DIDNT KNOW MY SILLYPOSTING WOULD BE ENOUGH TO INSPIRE ANYONE......... THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY ANON go live your pokemon au dreams. go crazy......
#sparky speaks#pokemon#maybe ill talk about my aus someday.#wearing a shirt that says ask me about my persona/tdi/etc pokemon aus#(if anyone is curious i might spill.)
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a morning behind the explosions
pairing: timeskip bakugo x reader (married with kids au)
notes: this was waaayy back in my old drafts so enjoy reading :P
The early morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The soft murmur of your children’s voices could be heard from the kitchen, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. You smiled, knowing that the morning chaos had already begun—your two kids were always up bright and early, full of energy, ready to face the day.
You rolled over in bed, only to find that Bakugo’s side of the bed was already empty. You sighed with a smile, knowing exactly where he was.
As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by the sight of Bakugo, his red eyes narrowed in concentration, wearing a faded “Kiss the Cook” apron over his usual black compression shirt. He was standing at the stove, one hand gripping a spatula while the other tried to balance a skillet full of eggs.
"Good morning," you said, leaning against the doorway with a teasing smile. "How’s the kitchen going today?"
Bakugo grunted, not turning to face you. “Don’t laugh. I’m making breakfast, alright? The kids wanted pancakes.”
You watched him flip an egg with surprising precision for someone who usually preferred to blow things up rather than cook. Despite his fiery personality, Bakugo had become a surprisingly competent cook over the years—especially after the birth of your first child. He didn’t want to admit it, but you knew he loved taking care of his family, even in the little things.
“Do they always expect you to cook?” you asked, stepping into the kitchen and moving to the counter to grab a cup of coffee.
“Yeah, well, they love my pancakes,” Bakugo said with a huff, his back still to you. “And if I let you cook, they’ll be crying ‘cause you’re too slow.”
You chuckled, watching as your youngest, a rambunctious four-year-old boy, scampered over to the kitchen table. His bright blond hair—so similar to his father's—was a mess, sticking up in all directions.
"Daddy! Can I have the biggest pancake?" he asked, his wide, eager eyes shining up at Bakugo.
"Quit being so damn greedy," Bakugo grumbled, but his voice had softened. He slid a plate of pancakes onto the table for your son. "Eat this first, then we’ll talk about the ‘biggest’ pancake."
Your heart swelled as you watched Bakugo gently serve his son, his gruff demeanor melting just a little when it came to his kids. It was a side of him that you had fallen in love with—the fierce hero, the protective husband, the devoted father.
As your son dug into his food, your daughter, who was just a year older, strolled into the room with her hair tied up in a messy bun. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, still half-asleep, but already demanding attention.
“Mom, can you make my pancakes in the shape of a heart today?” she asked, her voice still sleep-ridden but sweet as can be.
You smiled at her, walking over to give her a quick hug before turning to your husband. “I think she’s requesting a little extra love this morning,” you teased.
Bakugo rolled his eyes but was already pulling out a second skillet to make heart-shaped pancakes. He didn’t say anything, but his subtle smirk told you that he didn’t mind.
“Are you still planning to take them to the park later?” you asked, stirring your coffee.
“Yeah,” Bakugo replied as he flipped another pancake. “I said I’d take ‘em, so I will.” He turned to look at you, his fiery red eyes softening. “You can stay here and rest. You’ve been working all week. I got this.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to sit on the couch while you do all the work.”
“Tch, I don’t need you hovering over me,” he muttered, but his voice was softer than usual. “It’s not a big deal.”
You gave him a knowing smile, watching as he poured batter into the pan, a small frown on his face as he tried to make sure the pancakes were perfectly shaped. “You’re getting good at this.”
Bakugo shot you a glare, but there was no heat in it. “You don’t need to act so surprised. I’m not some idiot who can’t learn stuff.”
You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m not surprised. I love seeing this side of you, you know?”
He tensed for a moment, but then relaxed into your embrace. “Shut up,” he muttered, though the faintest blush crept across his cheeks.
Your son, now finished with his pancakes, climbed into Bakugo’s lap. "Daddy, can you play with me later?"
Bakugo gave a small sigh, but the smile that tugged at his lips was soft. “Yeah, I’ll play with you after I finish here.”
You watched them, your heart full as you saw the fatherly bond between them. Despite the explosive nature of his quirks and his harsh exterior, Bakugo was, without a doubt, the most dedicated father. And it was in these small, quiet moments that you saw just how much he cherished being a family man.
You grabbed the plates and began setting the table, glancing over at him. "You know, Katsuki, I’m really proud of you."
He scoffed, but there was no hiding the genuine warmth in his eyes. “Tch, don’t get all sappy. I’m just doing what needs to be done.”
You smiled, kissing his cheek quickly before returning to your task. “Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you.”
As the morning unfolded, you all sat down together at the table, sharing breakfast and laughs. The chaos of family life, while loud and often overwhelming, was something you had come to cherish. You didn’t need grand gestures from Bakugo—his love for you and the kids was shown in the small moments, in his quiet care and dedication to making sure everything was right.
And in that moment, surrounded by the noise and joy of your family, you knew that no matter how intense the world got, you had your own little piece of peace right here.
enzstr © 2024. please don't steal, modify or copy my writing on any other platforms!
#mha#my hero academia#bnha#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#mha x reader#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugou#bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader
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Reblogging again to say that if I can come up with a half good reason to, I WILL write a chapter where Maxim gets incredibly drunk and actually has a normal amount of anxiety for once (and gets to be very gay without all the weird Victorian shame)
Anyway, someone give me ideas for situations where detective au Maxim would get incredibly drunk
Writing Maxim getting stepped on has convinced me that this guy really needs to switch off his brain and just be very gay it would do wonders for him
#tbh I don't know what a “normal” amount of anxiety is either#but at least I'm better off than this guy. he has Issues#also fun fact I'm deciding that in this au his parents are like. super dead. probably died when he was a teenager or something#so he owns his townhouse outright because it was inherited from his parents#I also have thoughts about his name and how his canon “true name” fits into that#(imagine I'm wearing a shirt that in big bold letters says ASK ME ABOUT MY NICHE ANGSTY HEADCANONS)#jess says stuff#brainrot: rwd
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𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 (?) 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄— gojo satoru
pairing: racer!gojo x race engineer!reader genre: formula 1 au, fluff summary: he's insufferable (and wants to ask you out) and you're just trying to help him win the championship notes: formula 1 has ruined my life. probably lots of inconsistencies but i sped wrote this. this turned out a lot longer than i initially planned. gn reader but mention of wearing a dress. word count: ~3.2k
It's hot.
Your nose scrunches up in mild disgust as you feel a bead of sweat trickle down your neck, quickly making it's way towards the collar of your shirt before it's wiped away with a soft towel.
"Thanks," you mutter, looking up to meet a pair of bright blue eyes accompanied by a swoon-worthy smile. You huff lightly at the wink Gojo sends your way, turning away slightly to let your eyes roam over the rest of the paddock. Your lips turn up into a smile when you catch sight of Geto Suguru walking past your garage, and you return his greeting with a wave of your own before you hear Gojo grumble from his place beside you.
"Fraternizing with the enemy," he says, annoyance coating his words. He crosses his arms, unintentionally flexing and drawing your gaze towards his torso. His black fireproofs fit him snugly, and you find your mouth going dry as you try your best not to ogle him. You wonder if the temperature's gotten hotter. "That's not very nice of you."
"He's not the enemy," you protest, turning away to grab Gojo's helmet before thrusting it into his chest. "He's your best friend."
"Off track he is," Gojo agrees, holding onto the helmet. He pulls you in slightly, raising a brow when you don't immediately let it go. "But on track, he's my biggest competition. So you should be focused on me, not him. He's only a handful of points behind me."
"I'd hardly call one hundred points a handful," you mutter, turning to the side to grab a clipboard. "I think you're guaranteed to win the championship this year. Plus, Megumi's been doing great as well. Kid is in third place and it's only his second year! I think we've got the constructor's in the bag as well."
"All I need is a couple of bad races and next thing you know, Geto Suguru is the 2024 World Champion."
"Bad races," you snort, guiding Gojo towards his car and shoving his balaclava into his free hand. "Gojo Satoru does not have bad races. I don't know how you do it. I feel like you never drop below second place."
"It's all thanks to those genius strategies of yours," Gojo quips, watching in amusement as you shake your head in mild disbelief. There's a soft glint in his eye that you never seem to notice, and he finds himself wondering if maybe he should be a little more obvious about his feelings. (Everyone else on the grid and even the majority of the fans know he has the hots for you, so really, you're just the densest person to exist).
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you say, waving him off as you start to make your way towards the rest of your team. "Pull your suit up and go get settled in."
Gojo watches you for a couple of minutes, leaning against a cement column with his arms crossed. He doesn't know how, but watching you organize the team and go over your notes has become his pre-race ritual. He's so lost in thought that he fails to notice the cameras pointed at him, broadcasting the lovestruck look on his face for everyone watching the race live to see.
"Ready to go?"
Gojo snaps out of his daze when his team principal, Yaga Masamichi, comes up to him. There's a faint smirk on his lips as he motions towards you, his sunglasses hiding the teasing glint that Gojo just knows is present. "Or is there something you need to urgently discuss with your beloved race engineer?"
Gojo rolls his eyes but chooses to remain silent before pulling his balaclava over his head. He's abnormally quiet as he settles into his seat, and when he catches sight of you giving him a thumbs up from afar, he decides to ask you out right after he beats Geto and wins first place.
"Radio check."
"I can hear you loud and clear," you respond, your voice carrying the same lilt that Gojo's does. He laughs quietly, settling into the second position after the formation lap. A glance to his left leaves him scowling when he sees Geto flip him off, and he sighs deeply before realizing that his radio is still on. "Something wrong?"
"Just Suguru being an asshole," he responds, his irritation fading away when you attempt to choke down your laughter.
"Radio is still on," you manage to spit out. "Mind your language."
"You can reprimand me later," Gojo says immediately, well aware that his radio has probably drawn the broadcaster's attention. "Over dinner, maybe? Just you and me in the candlelight at that little Italian place you like."
"Win the race and then maybe I'll consider it," you hum, amusement tinging your words as you shake your head. Gojo can't help but pout when he realizes that you're dismissing his words as a joke, and he merely huffs before turning his radio off and telling himself that he has to beat Geto to the first turn if he wants any chance of winning this race.
It isn't long until lights out, and Gojo finds himself reacting just quick enough to push past Geto's car and take the lead. He catches a glimpse of Megumi gaining on Yuuji, eventually passing him and allowing him to start catching up to Geto. Seeing that his biggest competition is now being distracted by his teammate, Gojo turns his focus back to the track, trying to put as much distance between him and Geto as possible. A few laps pass before he hears his radio crackle to life, and he hears you speak softly so as to not startle him with the suddenness of your words.
"You're seven seconds ahead of Geto," you say, earning a hum of acknowledgement in return. "You also currently have the fastest lap so please focus on managing your tyres."
"The tyres are fine," Gojo's voice trills through your headphones. You glance over at Yaga, grimacing when you see him shaking his head.
"There's been reports of graining," you respond nonchalantly. "Please take better care of your tyres unless you want us to pit you earlier than planned and switch to plan B."
"Alright, whatever," Gojo grumbles, going quiet for a few seconds before speaking once more. "Now let me focus on driving. The sooner I win, the sooner I can see your pretty face."
You roll your eyes at his words, raising an eyebrow in confusion when Yaga fails to muffle his amused chuckle.
"Something funny?" you ask, leaning back slightly to look at the older man. He holds his hands up in surrender, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the monitor in front of him. You roll your eyes briefly before turning back to the pit wall as well, ignoring the words Yaga mutters under his breath about someone being oblivious.
The race progresses smoothly, and you find yourself feeling thankful that both you and Tsumiki (Megumi's race engineer) have had an uneventful race so far. It isn't until the race is about a third of the way through that you finally turn the radio on again, holding out a hand to stop Tsumiki from doing the same. "Gojo? We are boxing next lap, do you copy?"
"Copy," he responds immediately, his tone uncharacteristically serious for once. "Are we sticking with plan A?"
"Yes, you listened for once," you confirm, nodding your head even though he can't see you. "You have enough of a gap that we can comfortably put you on hards and have you back in the top spot in no time. The track is warm enough for those tyres."
"I always listen to you," Gojo replies without missing a beat. "Anything you say goes."
A deep sigh is all he gets in return, and he can't help the small chuckles that leaves his lips as he finishes his lap and prepares to pull into the pit lane. The stop is performed without a hitch, and you sigh in relief when Gojo emerges in third place, only a couple of seconds behind Megumi. You exchanged nods with Tsumiki, and you turn your attention back to the monitor in front of you as she radios Megumi to come in for his pit stop next.
"Okay, Gojo," you speak when you see Megumi head into the pit lane. "We're getting Megumi in and out as fast as possible. Geto is about ten seconds ahead of you, it's time to push."
"Perfect, but not as perfect as you" Gojo sings, swearing as he takes a turn a little too wide.
"Make that eleven seconds," you correct, biting your lips to hold back a laugh when Gojo swears again. "Go do your thing. I'll keep you updated."
There's no response as the radio clicks off, and you find yourself wincing when you realize that Megumi's slow pit stop has dropped him down to fifth place behind Yuuji's twin brother, Sukuna. You can hear hushed words coming from Tsumiki, and you can't help but feel bad for her predicament considering that Sukuna is the reason that Megumi hadn't been able to finish his race a couple of weeks ago after being pushed off track and into the barrier.
You watch with bated breath as the gap between Gojo and Geto begins to close, and you cross your fingers and hope that Shoko, his race engineer, will choose that moment to call him in for a tyre change. Your hopes go unanswered, and you're on the edge of your seat when Gojo managed to catch up to Geto after ten laps.
The air feels tense as you and Yaga watch Gojo get incredibly close to Geto, separating from him right as he turns a corner to avoid being hit. He's close to him— too close, you think— and you find yourself taking a deep breath to prevent yourself from turning on the radio to tell him to stop being so aggressive. A glance to your right tells you that Yaga isn't concerned with Gojo's driving, so you decide to let him be and see how the situation works out.
Your fingers grip onto your clipboard, knuckles going white as Gojo manages to swerve himself into the spot right next to Geto. You're slightly awestruck as you watch Geto and Gojo race wheel to wheel, their synchronicity impressive as they take tight corners and long straights in unison. There's a brief moment during which you wonder what it would be like if they were teammates, and you shake your head to clear the thoughts from your head. You fear that being teammates could damage their friendship beyond repair.
"There's been contact!" Yaga shouts, snapping you back to reality. You scramble for the radio button, a gasp leaving your lips as you watch Gojo swerve close to the edge of the track. You see Geto move in the opposite direction, and you quickly scan all the monitors before speaking to your racer.
"Gojo, there was contact but the car seems to be perfectly fine," you say calmly, watching as he straightens himself out and passes Geto. "That's P1."
"Great!" Gojo replies breathlessly, his voice sounding slightly strained. "How is Geto? Is he fine?"
You take a second to glance to the side, receiving a nod from Yaga before he motions to the pit lane. A soft call of your name has you turning your attention back to the radio, and you nod to yourself before updating Gojo. "He's fine, slight front wing damage so Shoko brought him in to get that changed along with his tyres. You're in the lead and we're waiting to see what the stewards will say about the incident. We think you might get a warning."
"Alright, better than a penalty," Gojo says, nodding to himself as he takes another turn. "Just a couple more laps and then I can take you out for that dinner."
"I said I'd think about it," you reply dryly, ignoring the giggle that leaves Tsumiki's lips. "Just bring it home. Geto had a bad pit stop so him, Yuuji, and Megumi are like fifteen seconds behind you."
"Whoa! Megumi made it past Sukuna? The kid's got balls."
"Language, Gojo," you remind him, sighing softly. "I'm turning the radio off now. Don't fuck this up."
"Language!" Gojo mocks, his laugh cutting out as you turn the radio off. You spend the last quarter of the race watching Megumi alongside Tsumiki, slightly impressed as Gojo manages to retain his now sixteen second lead. It isn't until Geto manages to break away from Yuuji and Megumi that you start to get nervous, and you watch as he begins to push the last few laps of the race.
"Gojo?" you ask, the radio crackling to life as you watch the monitors. "Just letting you know that Geto has managed to pull ahead of Yuuji and Megumi. I don't think he can catch up but there's still a couple of laps and he always manages to surprise us."
The silence you receive unsettles you, and you mutely turn the radio off and sit back to watch the end of the race. There's not much you can do but rely on Gojo to pull through, and you can vaguely hear Tsumiki talking to Megumi over the radio as he battles with Yuuji. You're on the edge of your seat when Geto manages to set the fastest lap in the race, and you begin to worry that he might be able to catch up to Gojo, only for your fears to be quelled when you realize that it is the final lap of the race.
"Last lap, Gojo!" you call out, turning the radio on in excitement. "Bring it home!"
"Last lap?" he asks, laughing breathlessly when he receives a hum from you. "How far behind me is the next car?"
"Fourteen seconds," you respond, bouncing your knee up and down in anticipation as he turns the last corner. The upcoming straight is the only thing between him and the finish line, and you feel your heart drop when Gojo's car suddenly starts to lose speed. "Gojo? Are you losing power?"
"Nope!" he chirps cheerily, humming softly to himself. "Are you feeling Italian? We can always choose a different restaurant for dinner?"
You do your best to ignore the anxiety creeping up your spine, watching as Gojo trails towards the finish line at what can only be described as a snail's pace compared to the speed of Formula 1 cars. Your eyes widen when you see the gap between him and Geto close, and you do your best to not let your nervousness creep into your tone. "Gojo, is really not the time to be talking about dinner."
"But you're going out to dinner with me right?" comes his immediate response.
"Gojo, please hurry up and cross the finish line."
"Not until you agree to go out with me!" he trills. Yaga shoots you a pleading glance.
"Gojo! Please! Just win the race!" you beg, swallowing harshly as your fingers begin to tap against your clipboard. You catch a glimpse of the amused look on Tsumiki's face, but you're unable to give her the scathing glare you usually would due to the fear you're beginning to feel.
"I can stay here all day," he replies smugly, giggling to himself as he speeds the car up just to slow down once more. "Well I can't, but I can stay here until I cross the finish line in P20."
"Oh my fucking god," you nearly shriek, watching as Geto takes the final turn and begins to head down the straight. "Yes! Yes, I'll go out with you, Gojo! Now please just cross the damn finish line, you dumbass!"
"My pleasure!" he teases, slamming his foot down on the accelerator just in time to cross the finish line a second before Geto. A loud whoop leaves Yaga's mouth as everyone in the pit wall relaxes, too relieved by Gojo's win to instantly realize that Megumi has managed to cross the finish line before Yuuji. The cheers surrounding you sound muted as you put your head in your hands, trying to calm your racing heart and fight off a smile as you realize that you now have a date for the night.
You barely process anything as Tsumiki drags you towards the now parked racecars, and you try your best to ignore Shoko's smug smirk as she whispers into Geto's ear. You think it's safe to assume that she's filling him in on what happened with Gojo during the last lap.
His loud laugh accompanies by a friendly wink thrown your way confirms your assumption.
You stand near the back of the crowd as Gojo stands on top of his car, holding his pointer finger up and posing for pictures before leaping back onto the ground and proceeding to congratulate Geto and Megumi for their performances. You manage to catch his eye after a few minutes, and you feel your face grow warm when a genuine smile spreads across his face, his eyes sparkling as he makes his way through the crowd towards you.
"Congrats on P1," you say quietly, trying your best to ignore the way he's looking at you.
"All thanks to your genius strategies," he quips, repeating his words from earlier. The smile on his face tells you that he wants to make a suggestive comment, and you do your best to redirect the conversation before he can.
"You should probably head into the cooldown room," you comment casually, tilting your head in the direction that Geto and Megumi had disappeared to. "Podium celebration is about to start. Don't forget to get weighed."
"Don't forget to wear that pretty, red dress I like," he responds confidently. A surprised laugh leaves your lips at his comment, and you can't help but shake your head fondly as you finally look up at him.
"You know, you didn't have to give me a heart attack during the race. You could've asked me out after the race like a normal person. I would've said yes," you confess, becoming hyperaware of all the attention the two of you seem to be drawing.
"What can I say?" Gojo responds, shrugging half-heartedly as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's close enough that you can see the varying shades of blue in his eyes, and you resist the urge to jokingly push him away when he loops an arm around your waist. "I tend to have a flair for the dramatic."
"Oh boy, don't I know it," you whisper, not giving him the chance to respond before you loop your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss. Both of you faintly register the whoops and cheers surrounding you, and you can't help but break apart from each other as laughter starts to bubble up in your throats.
It isn't until you fully pull away from him and usher him towards the cooldown room that you notice the sheer amount of cameras that have been pointed your way, focusing on the moment that has just been shared between the both of you. An embarrassed noise escapes your lips as you duck into your team's garage, giggling when you hear Yaga congratulating you loudly on your win. A smile spreads across your face as you settle into a seat to watch the podium ceremony, and you find yourself wondering if you and Gojo will manage to evade the press when you finally leave the track.
It's safe to say that the internet has a field day when the news of Gojo's end-of-race stunt and your spontaneous kiss breaks.
ty for reading!! rbs are appreciated <3
#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojou x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen imagine#gojo imagine#gojou imagine#satoru x reader#gojo satoru imagine#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#gojou fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo imagines
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shut up and put your money where your mouth is
max verstappen
tags: smut/pwp, driver!reader, rivals au, bickering/fighting, married in vegas, drinking, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, hangovers, 2.5k words
a/n: happy las vegas gp everyone!
wheel to wheel. toe to toe. cheek to cheek.
this was the dance you did with the three time world champion. the rivalry that put mclaren and red bull up against one another. and in the lead up to the las vegas grand prix, it was you and max's world and everyone else was just living in it.
"you should smile more." he said at the bar in one of the casinos on the strip. he pinched your cheek and you wanted to bite him.
you replied shortly, "i'll smile when you give me something to smile about. don't think i forgot the last race." you were barely edging max in points with the season wrapping up.
he just smiled, "i know you'll be smiling when i bring it all home in a few weeks. don't you worry." then pinched your cheek once more.
damn max verstappen.
the rivarly started years ago. max was the youngest rookie and you were a few months older than him. along with being the first female in far too long. the hype around your arrivals to the sport caused you two to step on each other's toes. both of you felt an overbearing responsibility to be the best. your father breathed down your neck on the track just as much as max's did down his.
and even after years in the game, you were both painfully in each other's orbit. so much so that your dear teammate oscar once said, "i'm pretty sure if you two weren't in formula one you'd be married by now!"
you replied with a laugh, "oh please, i'd never! not in a million years." but last vegas was the city of opportunity, and before an exciting weekend you went out for a few drinks with your rival. and as much as the city has opportunity, it was still sin city.
enough gin and tonics for max to feel a little more relaxed. and enough cranberry-vodkas to leave you feeling warm all over. what sent you over the edge with him was his flushed face and him undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. your eyes raked over his almost exposed collarbones and you shifted in your seat.
you swallowed and took another hearty drink, which only fueled a sexual fire in your belly. you felt something hot run through you at the sight of him. you looked away to try and not think too hard about it. you played with the gold chain around your neck.
max leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at your neck, "did i buy that for you?" he put his arms on the table and his expression was drunken as he said, "wearing what i bought you?" he laughed, "if i know you'd wear it. i would've bought you a ring."
you felt heat rise in your cheeks more, "i think people would get the wrong idea. we're supposed to hate each other. the headlines would be insane, max verstappen buys ring for his rival."
he chuckled, "well, you are my favourite." he swallowed and darted his gaze quickly, "my favourite rival." then took another hearty sip of his drink.
you licked your lips, "just a rival?" you asked softly. the liquor emboldened you and you let go of your necklace. in a moment of weakness you reached for his hand and asked, "not even friends?"
max swallowed, "not friends."
you felt ice wash through your core at his words. a tightness in your chest prevented any words from coming out.
max realized in his drunken haze that he only said half of the sentence. when you pulled your hand away, he was desperate to grab it back. shock crossed his expression, "no, no! not like that!" liquid courage made him say the words, "not a friend. a lover."
the words tumbled out of your mouth, "verstappen... i'm saying this on the most certain terms... take me. fuck me. do whatever you want to me." you swallowed.
-
you held the trophy over your head. you beamed with pride after your country's national anthem. you did it, you won the first race of many. as max then sprayed you with champagne, there was a single thing on his mind.
you'd be his one day.
-
you made it to the elevator with max in tow. you were headed to his room. you held his shoulders who he held you to kiss you deeply.
"as good at kissing as you are at racing." you giggled.
"oh, are you giving me a compliment? never heard that before." he smiled at you. he had you by the waist.
"don't get used to it. if you don't make me cum, then i'll never let you live it down." you held his face for a moment, "i will tell everyone that the great max verstappen can't make a woman cum."
he pressed you further against the wall of the elevator, "oh don't worry, i'll make you feel good."
the elevator dinged and you both stumbled out of it. max trapped you against the door while he loomed over you and tried to open it. it was hard to kiss your heated skin and open a door at the same time. on top of being drunk.
"focus on one thing." you groaned.
"if i do then i'll be fucking you in the hallway. and wouldn't that be the scandal of the season." his words struck something in you and when the door was opened, you were pushed inside.
when you caught your footing, you got your heels off. max wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up. while you weren't stick thing (couldn't be in formula one, not with all that force), but max was simply stronger. he got you both over to the bedroom before he cornered you. you squirmed and he said, "stop moving or i'll drop you." and soon got you onto the king sized hotel bed.
he undid al the bottoms of the shirt and got his belt off as well, he stripped those from himself along with his slacks. in just an undershirt and his briefs in the end, he got onto the bed with you. the dress would've been torn off of you if you weren't fast enough. max groaned when he shoved his face between your soon bare breasts.
"just like i imagined." he groaned. his hands were at the waistband of your panties, "fuck. i need more." and while he got your panties off, you got your bra off.
"you really are excited." you shuddered as your hand up under his shirt. his shoulders were framed by the straps of the undershirt. he looked a little more domineering, which only raised the heat in your body.
"how could i not be? look at you!" he purred before he got the white undershirt off along with his dark briefs.
both of you were naked and tumbled fully onto the bed together. you kissed him once more until you ended up on your stomach with your face in the pillows. max admired your strong back. being a driver meant exhibiting a strength which you presented in spades. strong in so many ways, which was an aspect that pulled max in.
enamored was a term he could use. but that implied it was casual, but max's feelings were far from casual. you were next to the blood in his veins. the spark in his life, the heat in his soul.
he lined his cock up against your soaked cunt. he felt drawn to you, like a siren's call. he couldn't help it, he had been needing this for a long, long time. he sank into you and you felt the excitement of pleasure rush through you as you laid out in the bed.
"at least a decade in the making." he groaned, "ten years, ten years i've been wanting you." he felt a moan leave his lips. two drunks fucking in an expensive hotel room. two multi-million dollar drivers rutted together with a hot passion between you two.
"fuck, don't make me feel old." you buried your face further into the covers and arched your back further. pleasure bloomed through you. you could never truly hate max. it wasn't in you.
max leaned in to kiss you on the centre of your back as he moved against you. his hot breath against you warm back, he felt the thrill of pleasure as he worked you slick cunt. your pussy felt like a dream, while drunk, you still felt perfect. you let out a soft moan as he moved.
"fuck."
"please, max."
"i know."
you were near certain that this was what the entire grid was hoping for. you knew that people shipped you two together. you see the edits, the reddit threads, the fan art, the fan fiction. and you knew the paddock talked.
you gripped the soft pillow under your face and you whined a little bit. the wooden headboard rocked against the white wall of the bedroom. you hoped that checo's room wasn't on the other side. you'd never hear the end of it.
max wrapped his strong arms around your middle and continued to fuck you. he moved against you. his cock bullied against your g-spot and you were left breathless. you wanted him, you wanted him in ways you never thought you'd ever admit.
max lit a fire in you. to push yourself harder an further, you were only as strong as your ability to match max. and your rival made you the best. you clutched onto the pillow and felt a stagger in your heart. your mind was filled with pleasure, but also the liquor. in some way, vodka only made things feel more intense.
you felt it race through your body as the two of you fucked on the soft bed. the slogan from vegas was true, anyone could get lucky here. and you got rather lucky with max.
he held onto you tighter, his strong arm around your middle as he rutted against you. it was a protective feeling to you and you loved the feeling. you guessed that he was a protective force in your life, no one bothered you with max around.
you hissed into the pillow and you felt the surge of intense want. this was a feeling you wanted to feel again, again, and again. you held on tightly and the immense heat just dragged you into the depths of pleasure.
"please, max. i want you. fuck, i didn't know i could want a rival so badly. you're as much in my soul as the engine of my car. ever since we met, i knew you'd be a force in my life. i need you more than i need anyone else. fuck." you rambled, muffled by the covers, and max loved it.
you were always delicate with your words and to hear profanity leave your lips so freely made max run hotter. the way you spoke as you lost all rationality in your head.
he had an effect on you, even on the grid and you wanted to kill him. you never did, not when he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes. he was your weakness, hence why you were rivals. the pleasure continued to mount, the feeling was electric. it made you hold on tightly, your back arched as he worked your body. you felt on cloud nine, not a care in the world. the want rolled through you and you moaned his name out loud once more.
"fuck, max!" you came around his cock with your nails dug into the pillow. he pressed himself up against your back and continued to fuck you with a feverish face.
the bed creaked under the both of you and the over stimulation made your head swim. you felt the heavy rush and he only kept moving against you. sweaty chest up against your sweaty back. thrusting against you, the pleasure built up in his brain.
the pleasure reached its peak and max slammed his cock as deep into you. he tried to get as deep as he could get and it made you climax once more. he rode out his orgasm, and soon he slowed to a stop. he felt racing in his chest. he wiped sweat from his forehead then kissed your back.
"max."
he pulled out and laid out next to you. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest. he peppered your face with sloppy kisses and you melted at his tender touch. even with his caring touch, his words caught you off guard, "fuck, let's get married."
and as you got lost in his eyes, you nodded, "sure."
-
the sun come morning burned and you turned over to look away from the window. you cracked open your eyes and the hangover weighed on you like a heavy blanket. you were met face to face with max, who was asleep beside you.
your eyes went wide and you pulled away from him. your chest tightened as you pulled the sheets closer to your chest. your heart leapt and you swallowed. when you looked down at your shaky hands, you saw a ring at your left hand. a shocked noise left your lips at the sight of it.
the ring was a gold band with a small diamond. you swallowed, there was no doubt what it was. you got very drunk and you got married. a nagging feeling of who you married was soon answered when you saw max shift and he had a matching gold band on his ring finger.
this was only confirmed when you opened instagram. and the post you were greeted with was of your hastily put together wedding. you looked happy as you kissed him. it felt like the rest of the platform was in a tizzy over this sudden wedding.
a sports reporting outlet had the caption, "mclaren's princess has tamed the bull!!" with a photo of you at the alter, your lips against max's. the next post read, "verstappen ties the knot with long time rival before the las vegas grand prix." you stomach sank and the reality was a cold splash of water.
post after post, reactions from what felt like everyone. you only came back to focus when you felt max's arm drape around your waist.
"max, we're in trouble..." you swallowed.
he slowly opened his eyes. he held onto you tightly for a moment before he kissed at your side. his expression was dreamy, still asleep as he let go of you. his expression changed suddenly when he noticed the ring on his finger. his eyes went wide before he took your hand and saw your ring.
"oh..."
"max, say something." you tried again, your voice tight. you felt the immense anxiety through you. what would the fia say? what would the press say? what would every other goddamn driver say?
it was bad enough people speculated for years about you two, but to have it come to reality was terrifying. but max didn't seem as scared as you.
he looked at you, only to shift closer. he kissed your side once more then said, "well, good morning then, mrs. verstappen." <3
#bunny writes#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one smut#formula one fanfiction#f1 smut#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen smut#mv33 smut#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv1 smut#mv1 x reader#mv1#mv1 fic#f1 rivals au#rivals au#driver!reader
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bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!
thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem
The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him.
He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell.
James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party."
He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head.
You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric.
"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says.
"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit."
James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences.
"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down."
"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence.
You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.
"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.
Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?"
"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk."
"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart."
"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini."
"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk."
"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–"
"Oh, please don't start," Remus says.
The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal."
The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove."
"Eternal doesn't mean better."
"Then what does it mean, Sirius?"
You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company.
"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you.
"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing."
Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way.
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