#Under The Bed (2012) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

b0r3dtod3ath · 9 months

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"Cause I <3 you, you’re the one that I adore :)"

Formula 1 masterlist

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Assistant!reader x rdr!seb. Based on this request. Set during the 2012 season.

A/N: I know a few people wanted me to write this trope so here it is :) Also this fic is loosely inspired by BBM baby by Lana Del Rey.

“Yea, I still don’t understand why I need an assistant” Well this sentence certainly didn’t calm your anxiety as you were sitting on a chair, staring at the door. You were supposed to meet your boss, well not really a boss but a person you were supposed to help. He wasn’t just a random person, he was Sebastian Vettel, two-time world champion in Formula 1. You were a fan of this sport so when an opportunity for you to work in that field appeared, you took it without thinking twice. Maybe you weren’t one of the most important employees on the paddock nonetheless you still got to travel the world and be a part of every race week. “Sebastian, you were late for the last three meetings. I can’t be looking after you all the time.” a female voice said. You recognized it - it was Sebastian’s press officer. She was a lovely lady. You got to meet her because she was the one recruiting you. “So you are really getting me a babysitter?” huffed the driver. The door in front of you opened causing you to jump from your seat and put on a smile. “Hi! Nice to see you again! Come on in!” said the lady. As you walked in a tall, blonde boy sat up and introduced himself “Sebastian Vettel. You can call me Seb. Nice to meet you.” The eye contact made your cheeks heat up a little “Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure working with you”. As you sat down you heard Sebastian whisper a quiet “It sure is” under his nose.

You came up with the idea of a maximum of 10-minute long meetings after breakfast during the race weekend. They were meant for you to give Seb a quick overview for the day - what is he doing at what time. You were sitting at the hotel’s restaurant, waiting for him to show up, you didn’t expect him to show up on time but he barely managed to. “Hi, sorry. I hope you didn’t wait long” he said as he sat opposite to you. “Good morning, I’m fine, you are on time actually” you greeted him with a smile, chuckling at his messy bed hair. “So today you are supposed to first meet your physiotherapist and then” you were interrupted by sniffling. Probably a morning runny nose. You grabbed your small purse and handed a tissue to the man. “Thank you” he said, surprised that you noticed. “So then you have a first practice session at 1PM and..” - you quickly went over what was planned for the day “Alright, any questions? If you really want to move some meetings then let me know and I will try to figure out something. I’m leaving this paper for you to know what’s going on and I think that’s it.” you handed him a post-it note with everything neatly written. Cute writing he thought as he looked at it "There's also my number if you need something and I happen not to be around”. Oh yea, he was definitely gonna use this one.

After a few races, you started developing a more casual relationship - it could even be called a friendship. The chemistry never left working hours. You didn’t understand why but it bothered you. Well, you noticed some signals - butterflies in your stomach appearing when you two held eye contact for more than a second, your heart skipping a beat when you accidentally touch or the heat rising to your cheeks every time he calls you by your nickname. You were a walking symptom of having a crush and yet you denied it. “I’m working for him, of course, we have to be nice to each other! He’s like that to every female reporter, a cheeky little bastard.” or “It’s his job to treat me nice.” you used to tell your friend on a phone, whispering as if Sebastian was to hear you. Little did you know, he has in fact changed his behavior towards women once you appeared in his life, he started being less flirty and reckless but not in terms of you. He would never tell you to do anything for him because it felt weird to him. At first, you were looking after him like he was a child - checking in if he was hungry or if he needed water. He never complained about being looked after because he found it comforting. He felt like you were truly caring for him, a feeling that he hadn’t felt in years due to his lifestyle.

You would never call him unless he was late. Sebastian was in his hotel room, sprawled out on the bed, head with messy blonde hair buried in pillows. His peaceful sleep was interrupted by the sound of his ringtone. “Huh?” his eyes still closed “Seb, you were supposed to text me when you wake up so you won’t be late again. Please tell me you got up” your voice was a sound he wished to wake up for the rest of his life “Mrrh Dreaming? An angel called me?” he said half awake completely ignoring your tone “Great, amazing even. Vettel, wake up. I’m gonna come to your room in 10 minutes and please cooperate”. Even though you were the same age you sometimes felt like you were babysitting him. Sebastian obeyed you and got dressed. He liked to annoy you a bit but he would be cautious not to cause you too much trouble. You knocked on his door not expecting him to be ready. To your surprise, you were greeted by a fully dressed Sebastian holding his toothbrush. He gestured to you to come in. You have never been to his hotel room so it a bit personal. You stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do. Your eyes wandered around the room which looked more neat than you expected - no clothes laying around and only his phone and a half-empty water bottle on his nightstand but the bed looked like a mess and you couldn’t judge him, after all he did wake up less than ten minutes before. The bathroom door was opened so you were able to observe him brushing his teeth. It was a thing he did everyday (even more than once!) yet it felt almost intimate. “Okay, let’s go” he said with a big smile once he finished and held the door for you. You were heading for a team meeting that you were also a part of. Your role there was to take notes that were handed to the driver later. Sebastian couldn’t take his eyes off you, sitting next to him as you wrote something important that he didn’t even hear. He loved to watch you in this state where you were so focused you barely paid attention to anything else. He loved the way you would tuck your hair behind your ear or play with a pen anytime there was something not worth writing down discussed. When the meeting was over you handed him the paper, he didn’t even look at it but the thing that caught his attention was your dress. It wasn’t revealing or stereotypically sexy - little flowers on a navy background, short sleeves and knee length just suited your personality in his mind. “Nice dress” he said, catching you off guard as you were saying your goodbyes. This weekend Sebastian finished P1 getting closer and closer to his next world champion title.

Next weekend was the last weekend before the summer break. Even though you had lost your hope in terms of your emotions towards Sebastian there was a little part of you that still wished that he would make some kind of a move. It was Saturday night, you had already showered and got yourself ready to bed. You heard a notification and looked at the screen of your phone. “I’m outside your door. Wanna talk to you. XOXO, Seb :)”. He himself didn’t know why he ended the text like that. He was just nervous and high on adrenaline. The message was followed by three gentle knocks on your door. You let Sebastian in and before you could say anything he grabbed your hands and said “I, I I think I love you. For the past few months you had been my sunshine. You make me happier. I adore everything about you, every single little detail. Please make me an even happier man and let me take you out for dinner. And wear that dress you wore last week."

#writers on tumblr #fan fic writing #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #sebastian vettel imagines #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #rbr seb

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c0eu4 · 2 months

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Could you write a fic for sebastian vettel? With driver reader? The plot is yours to decide but I want it to be fluff seb but rb era

Thanks in advance

SV5 | Don't be ashamed, sweetie

rb!sebastianvettel x fem!driver!reader

Summary: your period has always been painful and Seb helps you to relax.

Warning: Hurt/comfort

A/n: Think that the story takes place in 2012 and people are still very taboo about the subject of periods :/

MASTERLIST requests are close

You hate days like that. End even more when it's race week. You wake up with dirty hair, stomach ache and this horrible urge to vomit. You groan and roll over in your bed into the fetal position, wrapping your arms around yourself. You've always had painful periods. And having them when you have to drive is always hell.

You wipe the little tears that are falling from your eyes and sit on the bed, close in on yourself. You get up slowly, holding onto the nightstand, still keeping a hand on your stomach. You gasp at the horrible feeling between your legs and force yourself to walk to the bathroom. You hurry to change, wash your hands and fall back into bed.

You grab your phone and sigh when you see all the notifications. Some emails, Instagram, X and messages. You see the message from your teammates, Sebastian Vettel. He asks you if you're fine because you weren't looking good at the media day yesterday. You answer him simply that you're fine and turn off your phone.

Maybe the worst part of all this is that you're ashamed to talk about it. No one knows how bad you are during your period and you've only had it once during a race. Your parents have always been very close on this subject and it has always been taboo throughout your life.

You hide under the duvet, seeking warmth. Your whole body is frozen. It's like you were naked in the snow. It's true that your pajamas don't help you warm up, given the prevailing heat in Qatar. But still, you're cold.

You turn over in your bed again, cursing nature for giving you such a painful uterus. After a few minutes, when you thought you were going back to sleep, you sat up and decided to get ready. After all, you don't really have a choice.

You put on your most comfortable clothes, grab your bag and leave your hotel room. You hurry to the paddock to hide in your driver room and be quiet.

Arriving at it, you drop onto the massage table and resume your usual position, folding in on yourself. You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing to try to ease the pain. You're so annoyed that you didn't take your medicine. You didn't expect them at all! They are a week early. At least you're sure you're not pregnant.

You begin to cry silently, an accumulation of pain, fatigue and annoyance. You rub your eyes, to the point of ruining all your makeup - which makes you cry more.

You don't stop crying when your coach walks into the room. He's probably the only one who knows about your period - he doesn't really have a choice but to know.

''Have you taken your medication?'' He asks you a little coldly. He doesn't really know how to handle this and it makes you even more uncomfortable.

''No.'' You tell him looking at the ground, too embarrassed to look at him. He huff heavily, probably from irritation. ''Can you drive? Horner is not going to be happy.''

''I can drive!'' You stand up abruptly, quickly regretting your action because of the pain. You take a deep breath and try to calm down.

''Get ready. FP1 is in less than thirty minutes.'' He tells you quickly then walks out, lightly slamming the door behind him. Does he have his period too or something?, You think, noticing his bad mood.

You get off the massage table and hurry to put on your racesuit, taking advantage of the few minutes where you feel better than the morning. You take your bottle and go to your car in the garage.

The session was horrible. You thought you were going to die in the car the whole time. You barely managed to have a 'good time'. Everyone in the garage is disappointed and you know it. But you did the best you could. They want the best, given that your teammate, Sebastian Vettel, is taking the team very high. And there is you. At least, for today. They're expecting the worst, even though it's only the start of the weekend.

You return to your driver room quickly, angry with yourself and with the others who don't understand. You lie down on the small couch and start crying again, the only thing you do when you're so sensitive.

You close your eyes and try to sleep a bit when you hear a light knock on the door. You refrain from yelling at the person to get out and don't answer, hoping that they will leave.

''I know you're here Y/n.'' Sebastian's voice echoes from the other side of the door and you feel even worse. He's probably the last person you want to see. You don't want him to see you like this. What will he think? He will probably see me as a dirty person and hate me. You think to yourself and more tears fall from your eyes.

''Can I come in?'' He asks you, while pulling the handle but not opening the door. You mumble a 'yes' and he walks into the room, finding you dying on the couch.

''You're ok?'' He asks, approaching you, arms crossed. ''Your results weren't good.'' He adds a layer while moving forward to sit on the massage table.

''I look like I'm okay!?'' You answer him aggressively, being fed up with everything and everyone.

''Wow, little Y/n show her claws?'' He teases you with a smirk.

''Shut up!'' You shout at him and you turn around then sit up to look him straight in the eyes.

''Calm down.. You're on your period or what?'' He jokes slightly but puts on a serious face when he sees your red and slightly swollen eyes. ''You know, it's not that bad what you did.'' He gets off the massage table and comes and sits next to you.

''Damn, you men!'' You look at him annoyed and he understands that that's the problem.

''I have sisters you know.'' He gets up and walks towards the door. ''I'll be back.'' He mumble then leaves without saying anything.

''You're serious!?'' You shout at him, not understanding his behavior. Is he that disgusted? That's understandable.

You immerse yourself in your pain by lying down again and curling up on yourself while sobbing. Sometimes you wish you were a man. You wouldn't have all these problems. You wouldn't be bothered by your period. You would surely be much more respected and loved in this sport..

Sebastian returns more than half an hour later. He comes in without knocking and finds you crying silently on the couch.

Without saying a word, he throws something at your back. You groan and sit up, picking up the chocolate that fell on your stomach. He takes the opportunity to sit next to you and places a hot water bottle on your knees.

''You can lie against me.'' He looks away, cheeks red as he makes himself comfortable on the couch and takes the blanket that was at the end of the couch.

A slight smile appears on your face and you fall against him, resting your head on his thighs. He puts the hot water bottle on your lower stomach and tucks the blanket around you.

''You're good?'' He runs his hand through your hair and gently massages your scalp. You answer him with a little 'mh', feeling the pain lessen, thanks to all of Seb's attention.

''I'm sorry.'' You sob softly. ''It's embarrassing.''

Seb chuckle and it sends butterflies in your stomach. ''I told you, I have sisters. I'm used to it. Don't be ashamed, sweetie'' The nickname makes you blush and you feel him press his lips against your forehead and you close your eyes, feeling much better than this morning.

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 drivers #f1 x reader #fluff #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fluff #sv5 #sv5 x reader #sv5 fluff

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probablyasocialecologist · 6 months

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1,750 children had been killed in the 16 days of bombardment by Israeli forces since Hamas’s murderous onslaught on 7 October. That is an average of almost 110 children a day. Thousands more have been injured. The psychological impact of the war on children was showing, said Fadel Abu Heen, a psychiatrist in Gaza. Children had “started to develop serious trauma symptoms such as convulsions, bed-wetting, fear, aggressive behaviour, nervousness, and not leaving their parents’ sides.” The “lack of any safe place has created a general sense of fear and horror among the entire population and children are most impacted,” he said. “Some of them reacted directly and expressed their fears. Although they may need immediate intervention, they may be in a better state than the other kids who kept the horror and trauma inside them.” About half of Gaza’s 2.3 million population are children. Since 7 October, they have lived under near constant bombardment, with many packed into temporary shelters in UN-run schools after fleeing their homes with little access to food or clean water.

[...]

In Gaza, a child aged 15 has experienced five periods of intense bombardment in their life: 2008-9, 2012, 2014, 2021 and now 2023. Studies conducted after earlier conflicts have shown a majority of children in Gaza exhibiting symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). After Operation Pillar of Defence in 2012, Unicef, the UN children’s agency, found that 82% of children were either continuously or usually in fear of imminent death. Among Unicef’s other findings were: 91% of children reported sleeping disturbances during the conflict; 94% said they slept with their parents; 85% reported appetite changes; 82% felt angry; 97% felt insecure; 38% felt guilty; 47% were biting their nails; 76% reported itching or feeling ill.

#israel #palestine #gaza #sorry little ones

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 26 days

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Can I request "The red string theory" with 2012 Leo x Reader? It's basically when two people are connected and bound to meet when the time is right, regardless of the place or circumstance. (Could be platonic or romantic!)

I've been craving 2012 stuff for so longgg!

(I love and adore your work a bunch you have no idea💗!!! this is actually my first time requesting something. I've been so freaking nervous 😿)

-🦈💙

The Red Thread of Fate (Fluff)

2012!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Soulmate stuff! I love it! I’ve always loved reading other people’s soulmate fanfics, so I’m happy to finally make one of my own. And I hope that you find this fitting for your first request😊 Love ya bunches!💙

Warning: Most likely spelling💙

East Asian folklore explains that everybody is tied to their future partner, by a small invisible red string. Chinese mythology has the string tied around the destiny partners’ ankles, while in Japan it was often shown with the string tied around the woman’s little finger and the man’s thumb, even though nowadays it was usually shown only around the little finger on each person. And that was just the versions you were aware of.

You guessed that you had a string too. Sometimes you could feel it, and sometimes you couldn’t. Small, sometimes tightening a little around your pinky, pulling ever so slightly at you until you would move, but nothing would come of it. No one would be standing there and waiting for you when you walked into the other room, and well, suddenly you couldn’t feel the pull on your finger anymore, leaving you standing with a strange empty feeling inside.

Other times you swear you saw it. For a split second you could swear that you saw something small and red tied around your little finger, with a thread like string trailing off from it. However, with the blink of an eye, it was gone, or pinky once again looking as plain as ever.

As time progressed, you find yourself wondering more and more, your searching for answers becoming more and more prevalent. You had long longed to find that special someone, that you could share your life with. The one that could make you feel like the world's prettiest and luckiest person, and that you in turn would make feel the same. The one that you would be willing to work through ups and downs with, knowing there could be no highs without any lows. The one that you would find at the end of this invisible red string you found at the end of your pinky finger, every now and again teasing you with its elusive existens, and the knowledge that your future partner was out there somewhere, probably looking and thinking about you, the same way you were looking and thinking about for them.

But no matter how many times you found yourself dreaming and wondering about your soulmate, you had never thought that he would be close by. So close that he would be under your feet, literally.

One day you found yourself sitting in your bedroom, lost in thoughts, dreaming about that face you hadn’t seen yet. With all of your responsibilities laid out on your bed before you in paper form, you simply could not concentrate, your thoughts continuously wandering off to better places, only to find yourself back in your bedroom, with your work and homework laying out in front of you, just waiting for you to get them done.

You let out a frustrated sigh, letting your eyes scan over the paper in your hand. What was the point of sitting here and dreaming? Dreaming wasn’t going to bring your soulmate to you any faster. If this red string around your finger was as true as you wanted to believe it was, then you couldn’t force it. Your soulmate wouldn’t come around before time is ready for it, so spending too much time dwelling on it was not helping it. It was better to get going with your life and let it come to you along the way. So with yet another sigh, you took a hold of your pen, looking down over the paper one more time.

Then, as if the universe heard your thoughts as they ran through your head, your window smashed, sending someone hurling into your bedroom, landing directly on your floor, glass shards flying everywhere. You let out an ear piercing scream, standing up on your bed, looking down at the guy on your floor, groaning as he sat up, rubbing his head with green three fingered hand… Green three fingered hand!?

You stared in a mixture of awe, shock and a little fear at the green figure on your floor. Green, with a darker green colored shell on his back, his torso enclosed with a light brown plastron, his eyes wrapped with a blue bandana, with eye holes making his blue eyes visible, when he looked up at you. A turtle? A humanoid turtle?

Silence fell between the two of you, both of you staring at each other on high alert, unsure of what to do. After what felt like an eternity of looking into his light blue eyes, the turtles slowly lifted his hands, trying to signal to you that he had no intentions to harm you. But that was not what you noticed. Instead you noticed something thin and red, tied around his pinky finger. A red thread.

You took in a sharp breath when you saw the thread continue off his finger in a small line, your eyes slowly following it until you saw it coming to an end at your finger - tied around your pinky. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe, your gaze shaking as you looked back at the turtle man on your bedroom floor. No way.

The turtle seemed just as shocked as you, his eyes flickering between you and his hand, before slowly taking a hold of his tied hand, looking at it like he couldn’t believe what he saw. Whatever he and his brothers had been fighting out on the other roof was long forgotten, with the sight in front of him being the only thing he could think of. He had always dreamed of this moment, but never dared believing it could actually happen. Him, a mutant turtle living in the sewers, actually meeting his soulmate, a human.

Still standing on your bed, just shoulders slowly came down from the tens positions, your lungs letting go of the breath you had been holding. His round, yet strangely handsome face calmed something in you. Something before now, had never noticed, was so turbulent, slowly coming to a calming halt.

“I- I’m (Y/N)”, you said in a whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, his mouth slowly coming agape. “W- who are you?”

“L- Leo”, he answered, with a stammer letting you know that he was just as nervous as you. “Leonardo”.

“Leonardo”, you repeated with a small nod, not noticing the shiver he felt when he said your name. “Cool name”.

“T- thank you”, he said, slowly coming to a stand on your bedroom floor, coming to his full height, making a butterfly burst to life somewhere deep within your stomach. “Uhm…”, he continued, unsure on how to proceed. “H- have you heard of, uhm… the red thread of fate?”, he asked, holding up his hand with the red threat.

“Yes”, you answered, holding up your own.

Silence fell over the two of you once more, this time with small nervous smiles, both of you wreaking and turning your minds, finding something to say, that didn’t involve just smiling at each other like two idiots that were slowly falling in love. That was when you were interrupted by the sound of Leo’s brothers, calling out for him to help them with what threw him into your room in the first place.

“Shit, I have to go”, Leo said, looking from the broken window to you. “Listen, I- I will be back, I promise! But me and my brothers have a little, uh, problem to take care of”.

“Brothers?”, you asked, your unsurety washing away by the moment as you stepped down from your bed. “There are more of you?”

“There is”, Leo smiled, seeming to calm down when you stepped closer to him, getting lost in the thought of your once again, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. Was he so lucky? So lucky that not only would he meet his soulmate, but get to kiss his soulmate the same day. By your close proximity and your awestruck face it seemed like it. He could just lean forward and do it. He could just kiss you right now, while you smiled at him, seeming to just be waiting for him to do it-.

“Dammit, Leo! We’re losing our shells out here!”

“Oh! Yeah! Shit! Sorry, Raph!”, Leo said, before quickly running for the window, stepping one foot on the window ledge before turning towards you one last time. “I will be back, I promise… And sorry about the window, I’ll get that fixed for you”.

“Thank you, Leo. I’ll be waiting for you”, you smiled, causing the turtle's heart to skip. He stared at you for a moment, feeling his heart jump around inside his chest, wondering if all of this was a dream.

“See you soon, (Y/N)”, Leo said, dwelling in the fuzzy feeling he felt when he spoke your name.

“LEO! AARRRRGH!! HE GOT DONNIE’S ANKLE! HE GOT DONNIE’S ANKLE!”

“I’m coming, Mikey!”, Leo yelled before hurrying up the fire escape. You quickly ran to the window, wishing to see him one last time, only to find him already on your roof, in the last second before he leaped over the alleyway below with ease, running to whatever situation his brothers were in. You stood back in awe, a chuckle of disbelief pushing past your lips. You had just met your soulmate - the man that had been waiting at the red of your red thread - and he was a turtle. A humanoid turtle with the ability to jump over alleyways. If you decided to tell anyone, they would never believe you. And even you wondered for a moment if you had made the whole thing up. That was until you realized you no longer felt a tug in your little finger, but instead a storm of butterflies in your stomach.

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sweetsweetjellybean · 8 months

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A night out with friends turns into a surprise welcome home party for the man who broke your heart, Eddie Munson.

Masterlist Listen to Scar Tissue Here

What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago, with flashbacks at the beginning of each chapter. Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.

WC:5162. Beta'd by @superblysubpar

“Have a good day,” your mother calls out as you shut the front door to the gray clapboard-sided home that your parents had fallen in love with the moment they laid eyes on it. You hadn’t even gotten past the front steps before she appears in the doorway, pulling her purple terry-cloth robe tighter around her shoulders as she calls you back. “You don’t have to come right home after school,” she tells you, pressing a few folded bills into your hand, “Go out with your friends. Have some fun.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You muster up a smile, shoving the bills into the front pocket of your Levi's, certain they will end up in the ceramic pink elephant bank that sits atop your dresser, just like the money she gave you last week. She watches you walk down the steps, giving you a wave before she turns away, shutting the door behind her.

She tries her best, but she doesn't understand that friendships in the seventh grade aren't made as easily as they were in kindergarten, and you can't tell her that in the six weeks you've been enrolled at Hawkins Middle School, not a soul has spoken to you unless asked to by a teacher.

This was the life that your parents had chosen, a career that demanded constant relocation and upheaval. "It's an adventure," they'd tell you as your things were being packed into boxes. But the older you got, it felt less like an adventure and more like a test. A test to prove yourself over and over. There’s a phrase your mom has uttered so often over the years, that it's surprising it's not embroidered on the throw pillows. Bloom where you're planted. But here, in this town, you're only a weed in the garden.

Hawkins isn't any worse or better than any of the other ten places you've lived in the last seven years, but these kids have been together since birth and aren't eager to welcome newcomers into the flock. Pouring your efforts into being confident and friendly, projecting a cool and unbothered facade, the constant exposure has left you empty. The mask is too heavy, and you’ve been wearing it far too long. If this were one of the comics you kept in the box under your bed, you'd be discovering your superpower–Invisibility. They don't see you here, and maybe they never would.

The edges of folded bills in your pocket press into the meat of your thigh. Adding them to your total should give you enough for the new Elastica CD. With a bit of luck, you might be able to talk your dad into driving you to Tower Records in Indianapolis this weekend. A few houses away, the battered front door of a small yellow cape opens with a click and thud, drawing your attention. The house was more run-down than the others on this street. The grass was left to grow a little longer before being mowed, and a few nights a week, you could hear the yelling coming from inside before seeing the slow flash of lights of a cruiser parked in front.

A boy with curly shoulder-length hair bounds out from inside the house, slinging on his worn backpack as he hits the sidewalk.

Right on time this morning.

The scuff of your white Doc Martens falls in step with the crunch of his black Converse hitting the pavement. The chain running from his back pocket to his hip sways with his movements. It’s more of a determined bounce than a walk. Your eyes stay trained on the frayed holes of his Jansport, corners of textbooks and papers pushing through. You keep waiting for physics to kick in and the thing to give way entirely.

“Quit following me.”

His voice floats over his shoulder, shattering the quiet of the morning. Your head swivels from side to side, looking for whoever he is speaking to. His body turns until he’s walking backward, both hands gripping the straps of his backpack, casting his expectant brown eyes on you.

“Me?” You ask, touching your chipped painted fingernails to your chest.

“You’ve been following me for weeks, and it’s creepy.”

“I’m not following you,” you say incredulously, “We’re just going to the same place.”

“Well, walk on the other side of the street or something,” he says, turning back around, continuing on his way like he assumes you’ll comply.

“No.”

Your defiance comes out flat and solid, drawing a line, sick of him and this whole town.

“Yes,” the word comes back without a glance, utterly unbothered by your show of determination.

“No,” you repeat louder, your eyebrows pulling together in a scowl, “If you don’t like it, you walk over there.”

“I was here first.”

“Seriously?” The anger in your chest turns to heat, rising up your neck and settling in your face. Your mouth opens, ready to unleash the venom sitting on the tip of your tongue when he stops walking.

“Might as well walk beside me then.”

Surprise melts the words in your mouth as your feet carry you forward until you’re close enough to see the freckles covering his nose. His eyes stay forward as his stride lines up with yours, moving forward at a more relaxed pace. A light breeze rustles the leaves of the Maples lining the street. The sound of your footsteps is interrupted by the occasional passing car.

“You’re in seventh, right? You got Schnider?” He asks, his eyes darting to your face.

“Yeah.” You nod, looking down at your boots.

"Bad luck. She's a real bitch. I had her last year."

Answering with a shrug, you risk a look back at him. Long eyelashes framing big doe eyes, a sweet face he tries to hide with a hard shell. He wears a mask, too.

Your brain’s on overload for the rest of the day—thoughts of the boy coloring away the hours like a secret, overanalyzing every bit of your interaction. When the shrill sound of the final bell rings, you join the current of students, gathering your belongings and exiting the building in a wave.

The fresh air is a welcome escape from the stuffy classroom as you cross behind the school past the football field, heading toward the path through the woods where the boy is lingering just beyond the gate, digging through his pack but coming up with nothing like maybe he had been waiting. Without a word, he falls into step beside you. When you look at him, this time, he meets your eyes. The sunlight flickers through the swaying leaves as your footsteps resonate through the trees as you continue together.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," his voice cuts the quiet air when you reach the front steps of his house, his tone revealing a hint of uncertainty.

"I'll be headed the same way," you answer.

He turns away from you, pausing with his foot on the top step, looking up at his house before looking back at you.

"I'm Eddie, by the way," he offers, his cheeks pinking at the vulnerability his words carry.

"I know," you respond, a small smile gracing your lips as you continue home.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," you mutter, tucking your phone into your clutch and bolting up the marble steps to the second floor of the Kimpton Grey Hotel. Composing yourself as you pass through the lobby and open the double doors into Vol.39. The bar exudes timeless elegance with its dim, warm light shining on the dark-wood accents. Vintage jazz playing through hidden speakers, sounding like smoke and liquor. Everything here is steeped in leather, old money, and sophistication. It's no surprise that Nancy chose it.

"You're late," Nancy says flatly, no amusement in the blue eyes framed by the blunt cut of her black, sleek hair as she glances at her watch with disapproval.

"Sorry." You slide into the open seat on the tufted couch across from her, adjusting the material of your dark emerald midi skirt so the slit wouldn't be showing off too much thigh, "There was traffic." It definitely wasn’t the extra half hour you spent with your feet up on your desk at Stax listening to the new release from Band of Horses.

"This is Chicago. There's always traffic," she counters, keeping her voice low enough that it doesn't travel past the lit bookshelves lined with leather-bound encyclopedias framing the seating area that your friends are currently occupying. "That's why I gave you a time a week ago. So you could plan ahead."

"She’s in a mood," Argyle says from the corner of his mouth, his hair falling around him like a curtain as he leans closer from the velvet upholstered club chair beside you.

"Where's Steve?" Nancy demands, setting down her crystal tumbler on the gray marble table in the center of the space.

"He's not here?" you ask, scanning the bar. "It was Robin’s turn to watch him."

"Me?" Robin exhales from the other end of the couch she shares with Nancy.

"You're his best friend," you point out with a quirk of your brow.

"Yeah, but you're his–"

"I don't know why I bother to organize nights out for all of us if no one is going to be on time," Nancy cuts off Robin, huffing as she crosses her slender arms over her chest.

"It will be fine, Nance," Johnathan reassures, coming back from the bar carrying a flight of martinis he sets down in the center of the table. "Just relax. Everyone's going to be here in plenty of time." He takes the seat beside her, comforting her with his arm around her shoulder.

Nancy and Johnathan have been on again-off again since she left Hawkins for school in Boston. Rekindling their relationship when she moved to Chicago and accepted a position at Spectrum Media, where she still works as their vice-president of content strategy.

"Plenty of time for what?" You ask, leaning forward to choose a martini, picking the Astoria with a knot of lemon.

"There's a mystery guest," Robin says, wriggling her brows and hooking her thumb towards Nancy. “Full of surprises, isn't she?”

"Where's Flora tonight?" You ask Robin, noticing she is without an escort.

"Flora?" She asks, picking up a drink for herself, "That was over a week ago." She dismisses her with a wave of the hand before running it through her wavy blonde streaked locks, "Sadly, she left for a goat herding commune in Sacramento. I've been seeing someone new, a painter named Taylor. She's on exhibit at Magnolia. Her florals are really dreamy." She bites an olive off the end of her toothpick, sighing.

Smiling around the lip of your glass, you shake your head. Robin works as an exhibit coordinator for Magnolia Gallery in Wicker Park, falling in and out of love with artists as quickly as she sells their pieces. You give her credit, she's having fun.

"Did you text him?" Nancy asks, her lips twisting with impatience. The tense clench of her jaw has you setting down your drink and reaching for your clutch with no arguments. "Do you know how hard it was to get this reservation?"

"Then why are we here?" Argyle complains, gesturing around the room while he slumps back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass with the other. "You know I own like six bars, right? No reservations required."

"But then you'd be working," Nancy explains, as Argyle smoothes out his handlebar mustache.

"I'm always working, babe," Argyle says with a smirk, looking the part of a restaurateur and music promoter in his shiny flat-front trousers and short-sleeved silk shirt.

Argyle is a new friend - meaning not from Hawkins. The California transplant, whose family owns a chain of successful pizza restaurants, has breathed new life into the Chicago music scene. Booking up-and-coming acts as well as big names into his bars and venues all across the city. He's a good friend to have, especially in your line of work–a music journalist for Stax the city's premiere music, arts, and culture magazine.

“He’s on his way,” you inform them, setting your phone face down on the table before settling back on the couch.

“On his way or leaving now?” Nancy shakes her head, knowing with Steve it’s probably the latter. “Why didn’t you ride with him?” She asks, turning toward Jonathan.

“I wasn’t in the office today. I was on a shoot,” he says, pulling his arm away from her and setting his drink down harder than necessary, his patience with her at an end.

Jonathan, like you and Steve, works for the conglomerate Second City Media. Nancy likes to think that she permits the three of you to work for her competitor, but Steve had already gotten his foot in the door, securing himself an entry-level position at Metro Sports division before she was even out of grad school. Jonathan had been doing alright freelancing as a photographer, but when Nancy started at Spectrum, Second City recognized their competitor would wind up with an edge and hired him on as full-time staff. Everyone knows it's better for their relationship not to be working in the same place, especially with Nancy as his boss.

“Give us some clues about this mystery guest,” Robin interjects to lower the temperature between the couple, which is ready to boil over.

"Okay, I'm here." Steve comes from behind you, his voice alerting you to his arrival before you see him. His tie is already missing, the first three buttons of his starched shirt undone beneath his midnight blue suit, and his hair tousled from a day of running his hands through.

"Really, Steve? You couldn't be on time just this once?" Nancy scolds him, rolling her eyes.

"Meeting ran late. You know how it is," he leans down to kiss her cheek,"Or maybe you don't. I heard things are a bit slow over there at Spectrum," he teases, earning a smirk from Johnathan.

Steve worked his way up from the sports division to chief content officer for Second City Media. The position puts him just shy of the power Nancy holds at Spectrum, fueling the pair's competitive and ambitious nature until their bickering often drives everyone else crazy.

"Steve," Robin draws his attention before Nancy gets the chance to respond, "About tomorrow–"

"Just a minute, Robin. I haven't gotten to kiss my beautiful wife hello." He steps over Argyle's legs and gives the man a quick handshake in greeting before sitting next to you on the sofa.

"I'm not your wife yet, handsome," you tell him as his strong hands cup your cheeks, tipping your head up toward him.

"But it sounds good, doesn't it?" He asks before soft lips close over yours, his thumb pressing on your chin, asking for access to deepen the kiss beyond the line that's appropriate in front of company.

"Niiiice," Argyle hums as the others snicker. Steve takes a hand off your cheek, holding it in front of you to block some of their views as his mouth moves hotly over yours.

"God, you two are sickening," Nancy's remark is probably accompanied by an eye roll, but you're too occupied to notice as you tighten your grip on the front of Steve's shirt, drawing him nearer.

Four of his fingers curl down, giving Nance a one-fingered message as he continues to kiss you until he's had his fill. Breaking away with a gentle peck. "How was your day today, Ace? Did you write me a Pulitzer?"

"You ask me that every day."

Despite teasing you, he wouldn't be surprised if you had what it takes. That's how much he believes in you. He takes your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips to place a kiss next to the glittering diamond he put on your hand a little over two years ago.

"Excuse you." Robin climbs over Argyle's legs that are still stretched out in front of him, taking up all the space between the chairs and the table, and walks over to the couch, squeezing her way onto the sofa between you and Steve, "Best friend privileges." She winks before launching into a conversation about the next exhibit she's putting together.

"You two crazy kids set a date yet?" Argyle asks at a volume higher than you'd prefer. Raising your index finger to your lips, eyebrows drawing together as your eyes flick over to Steve.

"I'm just making sure my invite didn't get lost in the mail," he says, sipping his drink. "I love weddings, man—all those tiny little versions of regular-sized food. Maybe I should open a restaurant like that, where everything is tiny. Tiny little kebabs and tiki drinks with tiny little umbrellas. I don't know what's taking you so long. You need to make an honest man out of him." His voice grows louder at the end of his sentence, earning him another look from you, a distraction that diverts Steve's attention from his conversation.

The waitress chooses that moment to appear, saving you from another conversation about setting a wedding date. It's not that you don't want to marry him–you do. Someday. Decisiveness has never been your strong suit, along with dressing up in big puffy dresses that look like frosting and being on display for everyone you have ever known and their plus ones.

While Steve squints down at the drink menu, fondness warms you like the opening notes of your favorite song. Reaching across Robin, you tap his chest. He looks over at you as he pulls a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and slides them on his nose.

Your lips move without sound–I love you.

You too, he mouths back. His mossy eyes softening as he smiles just for you.

You're happy. Why change a thing?

“I’ll have an old-fashioned. Top shelf. Please,” Steve tells the waitress after she had gone around taking orders for small plates to share and more cocktails from the others. “Another Martini?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yes, please. An Astoria,” you tell her as she finishes scribbling everything down on her pad and heads off toward the bar to put in your orders.

“The ladies?” You tip your head at Robin, who nods, getting up to follow you. Steve squeezes your hand as you walk by as he continues his conversation with Nancy about the effectiveness of paywalls on digital content.

“God, she’s in rare form,” Robin comments as you enter the empty ladies' room, each of you closing yourself into a stall.

“Are she and Jonathan fighting again?” You ask once you’ve finished up and moved to the sink to wash your hands. The echo of your voices bouncing off the black and white hexagon tiles.

“When aren’t they fighting?” She pulls a few paper towels from the machine bolted to the wall and drys her hands. “It’s like foreplay for them at this point.”

You laugh, checking under your eyes for make-up smears. “Any ideas about this mystery guest?”

“No idea.” She tugs the brass handle of the door open, and you follow her back into the bar. “Maybe her brother?”

“That would be nice,” you say, your boot heels tapping on the dark chevron floors, “He just got married, right?”

“So young, practically still a baby,” she tuts, her head shaking from side to side.

“Robin, he’s not that-”

Robin's hand clamps onto your forearm, a squeal escaping her mouth as excitement radiates through her. She bounces on her toes, leaving you in her wake. Whoever elicited such a reaction is being blocked by Steve and Jonathan. When she gracefully maneuvers past them, you catch a fleeting glimpse of dark curls before the two men shift back into place, obscuring your view once more. The clinking of glasses and chatter from the other patrons swells in your ears. Your feet carry you forward, curiosity resonating like the reverb of a guitar. Steve feels you coming up behind him and shifts to the side. Without warning, rich chocolate eyes are locked onto yours. Eyes you haven’t seen in eleven years when he left you a mixtape instead of a goodbye. The eyes of the man that shattered your heart into so many pieces, all the edges are still sharp.

“Hey, doll.”

The breath trapped in your lungs forms a suffocating bubble, its dull, aching pressure stifling any movement in or out, causing your body to lock in protest. You're tugged forward, unable to fight it, until your body collides with his. The faint but familiar scent of him embraces you, lingering beneath the spicy notes of expensive cologne. Triggering a flood of a hundred painful memories, like songs you’ve overplayed and can’t bear to hear again. They jar your instincts into overriding the shock, compelling you to push him away. Eddie's solid frame absorbs the force. To your relief, the others haven't noticed as you retreat to your seat. Your trembling hand raises your martini to your lips, taking larger swallows than you normally would, but nothing with this situation is normal.

"Desperate times," you mutter under your breath, tipping back your glass. By the time everyone has settled back into their seats, your martini glass stands drained, the lingering taste of its contents bittersweet on your tongue.

Steve directs the waitress to bring another drink for you and a double Mescal for Eddie. The others' voices are a distant buzz in your ears, but their words don't breach the barrier of your thoughts. The chords playing in your mind are more discernible now. Their lyrics printed onto the faded photographs of a boy that you struggle to reconcile as the man before you. He's older, but you are too. His long hair is much shorter, the dark curls a richer brown pushed away from his face. A few lines grace the corners of his eyes and forehead–a reminder of the life he's lived without you.

Steve's comforting hand wraps around your shoulders while the other finds a home sliding between the soft skin where your legs are crossed, exposed by the high slit of your skirt. Eddie's eyes are on you, his stare focused on Steve's big hand covering half your thigh. Your left hand moves on top of Steve's, adjusting to make sure the sparkling rock on your finger gleams with brilliance in the soft, ambient light.

"Well, this is a blast from the past," Robin notes, her voice full of whimsy as she dangles her cocktail glass between two fingers, swaying it gently like a pendulum.

"Aren't you all glad I forced you to come out?" Nancy quips, much more relaxed now that her plan has come to fruition.

"You did good, love," Johnathan murmurs. His fingers tangling with hers before giving her a quick peck.

"Absolutely. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this," Steve agrees, "How long has it been, dude? Three, four years?"

"Yeah, I think that was the last time you were in L.A." Eddie scratches at his chin, covered with just enough scruff to almost be a beard.

Steve keeps in touch with Eddie? Had he told you when you hadn't been paying attention to him, your mind wandering with the words you would write for other people's songs?

"Now, I know that I told you only old friends," Nancy says, angling herself towards the plaid upholstered chair that Eddie occupies. "But Argyle knows all the local talent, and I thought he'd be a good connection to have since you're moving here."

"What?" You ask, as if a sudden vacuum has just sucked the air from the room.

"You're moving here?" Robin's eyes light up with excitement at the prospect of all her friends in the same city. She was the original connection that brought you together all those years ago.

"When you say here. You mean Hawkins, right? You're moving back to Hawkins," you clarify.

"No. I mean here. I'm moving to Chicago," Eddie says, leaning back into his chair, his long legs spread in his tailored black suit, the black v-neck underneath giving off a laid-back California vibe. "I told those corporate studio fucks I was done. I'm opening my own place to record music that's actually good, not just the kind that will sell. I'm surprised you don't know all this, doll. Isn't it supposed to be your job or something?"

“Fu–”

"Why Chicago?" Jonathan asks, cutting you off before you let loose a very appropriate response to his question, "Why not stay in L.A. or New York. Aren't there music scenes bigger than here?"

Eddie tips his head to the side, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "You know, L.A.'s lost its charm for me. Too many fake people made out of plastic. And, well, Wayne's not getting any younger. Thought it's about time to be closer, you know?"

“You'd be much closer in Hawkins. Bet you could find a place downtown real cheap. You should go look there.” You cross your arms over your chest, drawing a line in the sand.

“Hawkins doesn’t really scream rock ‘n’ roll, and I already got a place, but thanks,” he says, unconcerned as ever by your tone.

“Look at you two,” Robin says, clapping her hands, “Just like old times, back to your usual banter." Her mischievous grin widens, "Remember when she had that massive crush on you, Eddie? You’d stroll into Musicland during our shift, and she’d follow you around with those big heart eyes.”

Your ears ring as heat rushes up to your neck to your cheeks,the whole world spinning. Eddie looks down, swirling the remnants of gold liquid in his crystal-cut glass.

“You’re exaggerating, Robin,” you sputter, reaching for your drink, hiding behind the lip of the glass, “We were just friends. And it couldn’t have been too major. I don’t even remember it.”

“Oh, come on,” she protests, “Everybody knew.”

"I didn't," Steve's voice cuts through her teasing, leaving an awkward stillness in its wake. The distant sounds of high-pitched laughter and the faint scrape of utensils against plates fill the void. Your friends exchange uncomfortable glances, even though there was no malice in his tone.

“Hey, it’s no big deal, though,” his smile puts everyone at ease. “Right, Ace?” His head dips, brushing your lips in confirmation. You nod as he continues, “Robin, remember when we both went on dates with the same girl. What was her name? Brenda.” His fingers snap with the recollection.

“That’s right, Brenda! Brenda Mackenzie!” Robin laughs and begins to regale the group with the story.

When you lift your eyes, Eddie’s stare remains fixed on you, amusement replaced with an intensity you can’t read. An unfinished sentence or lyric. Words hanging between you like a question that you can't answer—one that you don’t want to.

“I’m going for another drink,” you say to Steve, picking up your empty glass.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asks, brows drawing together.

“No, I’m okay,” you tell him with a plastered-on smile, “You want anything?”

He shakes his head no. “I let my car service go early. I’ll drive us home in your car.”

With gentle fingers, you sweep aside a stray lock of hair that's draped across his forehead, planting a tender kiss on his lips before making your way to the bar.

There is a soft creak of the leather as you seat yourself on a high stool in front of the polished wood bar. A bartender with an easy smile takes your order and leaves, giving you a much needed moment alone. Your lungs expand and contract without releasing any tension. You study your reflection in the mirror behind the rows of brightly lit bottles. If you could rewind the tape to a few hours ago, you'd have happily stayed in your office. Calling Nancy tomorrow to grovel for forgiveness for messing up her plans. But you can’t and the song plays on. It’s always the music that hurts the worst.

You release an audible sigh, your breath escaping through parted lips, as he settles onto the stool beside you. With a casual tap of his rings against the bar, he signals for the bartender, raising a single finger, his tongue peeks out, grazing his bottom lip as he gestures toward his empty glass.

"What’s the matter, doll? You really that unhappy to see me?" Eddie drawls, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"It’s been eleven years, Eddie. Sorry I’m not organizing a parade." You settle back into your seat, glancing around as if you're bored.

The bartender lowers his eyes as they deliver your drinks and wisely retreats to the far end of the establishment.

"I didn’t come here to fight," Eddie replies, his tone softening. He shifts his weight slightly on the stool, one arm resting casually on the counter, the glint of a gold chain around his neck catching the dim light.

"Then why are you here?" Your eyes narrow as your fingers trace the condensation on the side of the full glass.

"A fresh start. To build something of my own." He looks at you with determination, his dark eyes reflecting the soft glow of the bar lights.

"Then build it somewhere else," you respond curtly, your words laced with frustration. You pick up your drink and down half of it in one go, the chilled liquid leaving a slight burn as it slides down your throat. Setting the glass back down, you turn to leave.

He stops you with a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist, his touch causing your pulse to quicken beneath his fingertips. "There are some things I want to say to you. Let me take you to lunch unless Harrington has got you on too short of a leash."

You pull your wrist back, the feel of his touch lingering like smoke in the air. "Whatever you have to say has waited this long, try again in another decade. Unless you're dying."

"Would it make a difference if I was?" He meets your gaze with amusement playing on his lips.

"Let me think about it… nope." Your reply is quick and sharp, meant to cut.

"I know you're mad–"

"No. Mad would imply some kind of emotional attachment. What I feel is indifference. In case you don't know the definition, that means nothing at all." Your voice stays cool and detached as you hop off the stool. "It's a big city, Eddie. There's no reason we have to see each other again."

"We'll have to see about that," he smirks.

"Have a nice life," you say a final goodbye to your past and turn away, walking in the direction of Steve when he stops you with one more question.

"Did you listen to it? The tape, did you ever listen?"

The lie comes without hesitation.

“No.”

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Read Song 2. here

AN: I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it. If you have a song that you think Eddie would have recorded on the mixtape send it to me in an ask and it might be included. Anything before 2001. I'd love to hear from you. Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated.

#steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #torn series #torn #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #Spotify

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argentinagp · 3 months

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ALEXANDER ALBON CAREER PRIMER Reblogs are appreciated and if you want to post it in other website you can as long as you give credit! Enjoy! 🫶🏻 Also thank you to the fantastic @hungriestheidi for beta reading this mwah!

Alexander Albon Ansusinha has always had a passion for motorsport. When he was very little his idols were Valentino Rosso (MotoGP) and Michael Schumacher (Formula 1). But the Ferrari driver was by far the number 1 for him, his entire room was red from his bed to the curtains and the rug. He always cried when Michael lost and his mom had to put a race from a VHS where Michael had won. His first word was ‘rrari.

But his first encounter with a kart, at the age of 4, was not ideal:“The first time [in a kart] I was in tears I hated it. I was in Disneyland I think. I still remember crying about it but I just remember stepping into the car, it was like a mini F1 car” - Beyond the grid 2019

A few years later though, when he was 7 years old, his dad bought him his own go-kart:

“We lived in the country back then. Next to our house there was a field on which my father laid out a figure-eight layout with stones. That's what I messed around with every day after school.” from Top Gear. And then at the age of 8 he was finally allowed to drive on a real track, back then it was just him and his dad, Nigel Albon, who was his driver coach, mechanic, etc, and who also was responsible for getting him into racing.

His first year in karting was difficult, he struggled with performance and lack of experience, and, because of his financial situation, it was almost from race to race and he had to adapt very quickly to progress. But, then, he went to Malasya to do one race for the first time away from the UK and he finished that race 4th which gave him a lot of confidence. And this was a turning point in his karting career. After that year and a half, he started to score podiums. It was becoming serious. In 2006 he went on a higher level and his father had to stop being the one to help him and a professional team took over, even though he remained alongside him through all his karting years.

With strong results and titles in England he moved up to KF3 from 2008 to 2010, where he was noticed by Red Bull Junior Program.

“2009 was a good year,” he recalls. “I remember competing against guys like De Vries, Marciello. Then, in 2010, I got signed by Intrepid and went against drivers like Verstappen and Gasly to become European and World Champion. - The Race Box. In 2010 Red Bull Motorsport took him under its wings through its Thai division, they were keeping a close eye on him and more so when he switched to KF1 before being integrated into the Junior Team for 2012. “What’s important to remember is that I was at a stage in my life when I was able to stand up a little, thanks also to my double-nationality. I realise today how lucky I am to be part-Thai because of the interest that it created. There’s no denying that I would not be racing up to this day if it wasn’t for that too.” - The Race Box, 2nd part.

2012 was, as he described it, the most difficult year of his life. Career wise, he started Formula Renault, with Epic Racing thanks to Red Bull, but the whole year he spent the entire year at the back of the field, even if he had some good qualifyings. And this was in part a reflection of his private life problems. “But then at some point it turned and I think, I had some family issues a few years on when I was about 14/15, we like to call it my mom went on a holiday, that changed me. [...] the financial support was gone completely,” - High Performance. In the podcast he also says that this changed the way he approached racing. In karting he was not the most competitive kid and because he had the financial support, racing for him had no real pressure, he didn’t feel like it was a need. But after what happened he did feel the need to perform, he described it as a ‘survival feeling’. Because of all of this his first year in Formula Renault didn’t go smoothly and as a consequence of this he was dropped from the Red Bull Junior team at the end of the year, and he felt like the dream was becoming over.

All this also had consequences on his confidence, “I think I lost a lot of genuine confidence when I had this issue. I went from karting to cars, I struggled with cars, didn’t have the feeling, didn’t have the knowledge of single seaters to begin with. I struggled with genuine life confidence, went from having a lot of friends to no friends, started to be a lot more introverted, so everything started to fall away a little bit, becoming a little bit more fragmented in just how I was as a person.” - High Performance.

In 2013, though, he was picked up by the Gravity Junior Program linked to the Lotus F1 Team, which only lasted for one season. Alex considers it as his first proper year in single seater. It didn’t go well, but he did show signs of potential, a big jump from 2012. “After a tough 2012 Lotus helped get the sponsors to race,” revealed Albon. “I most probably wouldn’t be driving if it wasn’t for them, so I am very thankful for what they have done!“Apart from helping find sponsors, I frequently visit the factory in Enstone where we have our physical assessments as well as individual programs made. We also have a sporting manager at each test/race who is there to speak to the team and drivers, giving advice to both” - The Checkered Flag.

Even though he stayed with them for one year, this allowed him to join the KTR formation in 2014 and he finished in 3rd place in the championship. It was also at the end of 2013, just before 2014 started, when he started to regain the confidence he had lost the previous years, “I just remember there was a winter test, it was in December after quite an average season and suddenly I was now quickest in this test, it was in Portugal, and I was like well okay and and and honestly from that point on just I was quick” - High Performance.

In 2015 he signed with the Signature team making his way to the European Formula 3 Championship, all thanks to his links to Lotus in Formula Renault. He finished 7th overall that season and then moved to GP3.

He also competed on Macau for Signature this year

In 2016 he signed for ART to compete in GP3 (alongside an familiar face, Charles Leclerc). He exceeded all of ART’s expectations by integrating himself instantly into the company and fighting for pole positions and victories from the first race weekend (words from team principal Sebastien Philippe for motorsport.com). “He didn’t need a period of adaptation to become one of the best drivers in the category and he didn’t stop progressing throughout the year. He missed the title by very little and it was through no fault of his own, either sporting or personal, why he didn’t clinch it”.

After finishing 2nd, he continued with the team but now in Formula 2 in 2017. He ended up in 10th place for the championship with only two podiums.

“After the bad results of 2017, I knew there was something wrong. I wasn’t sure of what but I could feel it,” he says. “I stayed with my opinion and didn’t let the team tell me I was in the wrong when they were in the right.” - The Race Box, 2nd part.

One of the problems he faced this season was due to an injury, he broke a collarbone whilst out on a mountain biking training ride and missed the Baku round.

Also this is because I am a chalex enthusiast: in Abu Dhabi he was winning for the entire race before being overtaken with a controversial move in the last lap by Charles. [To learn more about chalex click here and here by @vegasgrandprix]

In 2018 Alex found himself again in a tricky situation: “There was 95% chance I would not race in 2018 until an arrangement was found with DAMS and it really paid off,” he remembers. “I went to the tests, kept pushing and was the fastest on track in one of the two days. Still, I was unsure just a few days before the first race of the championship. And it was like that for the first three weekends and even until June. It was a race-by-race situation.” - The Race Box, 2nd part. Not being considered as a priority choice made him angry to prove himself to the team and he came as one of the strongest contenders for the championship despite the season being made of ups and downs.

This Formula 2 season in particular encountered problems, not only for Alex, with the introduction of the new Formula 2 car, due to a not great clutch system. This made Alex lose lots of positions in the early stages of the races.

But he could prove his value, he had 8 podiums and 4 wins, finishing 3rd in the championship behind Lando Norris (2nd) and George Russell (1st).

“It’s true that, for most of the season, it has been about Lando [Norris, ed.] fighting against George [Russell, ed.] but I was always behind or in between them for much of the year. Obviously, I think that it’s just the way the British media portrayed their battle. Don’t get me wrong, the two are very-talented drivers but it was nice for me to be up there too.” - The Race Box, 2nd part.

In the middle of the 2018 Formula 2 season, Alex started to look for options to become a professional. His dream still was to become an F1 driver but offers were not appearing and after calling up Helmut Marko (who had kicked him off from the Red Bull Junior program in 2012) and being told that all seats are full, he signed with Formula E team Nissan alongside Sébastien Buemi.

“The level of competition in the series is intense, and I’m looking forward to testing myself against some of the best drivers in the world,” - Motorsport.com.

He tested the new, at the time, Gen2 car in Calafat during the off season but he didn't make an appearance during the official pre-season test in Valencia. This is all because in the final race of the 2018 F2 season he received an offer from Helmut Marko to drive for Toro Rosso in 2019.

“It came to the last race of the year and Helmut Marco got me back again. So the one who told me ‘there's no space’ inquired about my simulator Services, that's what he said, he got his PA to come over and speak to me and say do you mind just popping into Helmut's office at the circuit and we had a chat about simulator work, I was actually at the simulator for Mercedes doing work for them, he wanted to know how much I got paid. He agreed to my terms on my simulator contract and then, I don't know what it is, I think it's just something he does occasionally, he was speaking about this contract and as I was kind of walking out the door he was like ‘by the way, what's your position with your formula e contract, can you get out?’ and the one thing I did make sure in my Formula E contract was to have a clause in it that if I had a Formula 1 offer I was good to go and, I said well you know that's the way it is and he said ‘okay, let me get back to you’ and then within 24 hours it was almost pretty much all done.” - High Performance.

It wasn’t till this moment that he believed that he could fulfil his dream of becoming an F1 driver: “It was not that clear to me formula one was this obvious pathway that I could achieve. I don't think I'm a normal driver in that sense where Formula 1 was this thing and that's all I thought about that's all I wanted to be, of course I wanted to be a Formula 1 driver but for me to believe it, after everything that I went through, I had to almost prove it to myself, I needed to see it. And I would say, only until I got to Formula 2, until I got the call that I was going to be in Formula 1 did I actually realise you know, I'm in it” - High Performance.

He went to his first year in F1 with 0 days in an F1 car. His first day was in Barcelona pre testing where you do a day and a half with your teammate and then go into the first race. He describes it as the most stressful time.

And the first time in the test was not a good one: he spun on the first lap. It was due to no fault of his own, the car had a steering issue. He says that when he went back to the pit lane and a hundred photographers were waiting for him, it finally hit him that he was in Formula 1.

As the season went on, he started to get comfortable at Toro Rosso and started to have good races. He scored his first points in his second race in Bahrain. But then, after summer break, a change came through, “I was kind of living in this dream where the pressure every race was becoming less and less. I knew after the first race that I belonged, I knew, you know, I've got what it takes and and I do generally believe in myself, and then summer break comes around, had a great start of the Season, great rookie year so far, enjoying my racing more than I ever thought I could, and then I get the same guy, Helmut Marko, call me back to his office this time in Austria, so that's a bit more serious” - High Performance. He remarked that the conversation went the same way as the previous one, with Helmut dropping the news at the end of the meeting, “This is the number to speak to, this is going to be your engineer, maybe give him a call and figure it out. You can't go to the factory right away, because it's shut down but you are going to be announced in about two hours” - High Performance.

After being with Toro Rosso for 12 races he was promoted to the Red Bull Racing team, replacing Pierre Gasly. The team said they would “use the next nine races to evaluate Alex’s performance” and “make a decision as to who will drive alongside Max in 2020.” (BBC)

He of course wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass but he was not sure if he was ready or not for this, and how it was going to be being Max’s teammate.

“[...] two weeks now or nothing, just thinking about this opportunity but I can't drive I can't get into my happy place, I can't get my helmet on, I've got to just prolong this anxiety out, but, of course, I went into it with more confidence than I did the first time. But it's these opportunities, you just have to take them because Formula 1, the way it is, it's so cutthroat but at the same time I thought to myself there are so many drivers who would kill for this opportunity, there's so many drivers who wish they could have a spot at a top team and within six months you have got that already, you're not going to reject it and with all, even with the ‘am I good enough’, of course there's this deep inner belief that ‘yes, I am’ and you got to go for it. So I am a little bit self conflicting in myself but deep down yes, of course, let's give it a go” - High Performance.

He ended his debut season 8th in the WDC with 92 points, 76 being scored during the last 9 races at Red Bull compared with 97 for Verstappen in that same period, which solidified his place on the big team for 2020. He also won the Rookie of the Year award at the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony.

The following year, though, the car changed quite a lot and it became much more tricky to drive for Alex. He says that it was specially the lack of experience what made it so difficult for him to overcome the problems and he didn’t really know what direction the car needed to go. And for his teammate it wasn't a big issue. Alex started to overanalyze and was overcritical in his performance and he spent so much energy in trying to find a solution to the problems he had and he says that he should have “taken a step back a bit and trusted myself a bit more”- High Performance. And from there it all started to snowball and every time the car became sharper and sharper and he started to become more tense.

On top of it all, one of the things he struggled the most was the media side of being on a top team. Not only because he was on a top team, but also because of all the noise around the swapping seats. Every mistake he made got criticised. Plus all that it is social media with the memes and he became almost a joke, and as much as he could ignore it, on Thursday, media day, he had to go answering questions about his performance and who could replace him.

Back then he didn’t have any structure, didn’t have a team behind him. “I think Red Bull, especially, they have one extremely quick driver but they're not that used to having young drivers in their team. So, you know, there was help and there was advice when needed but it's not that obvious actually. And so I was with my trainer, we kind of looked at sports psychologists just to see if I need to get that confidence back and that that inner belief back, but I think people don't realise that Formula 1 as much as it is a team sport, it's still very individual, you have the team and the team do care about you, and they do want the best for you, but it's a strange sport where you have your little circle, it's a team within a team, and you have your little support network which for me is my family and at the time my trainer and that was it. But I realised in time that that wasn't big enough and actually, you know, I didn't have a manager at the time or, you know, even anyone to kind of handle the social side of things so I went quiet on everything.” - High Performance.

His results this season were not ideal, even if he had two podiums (being the first asian f1 driver to do so). Alex finished the season 7th in the WDC with 105 points to Verstappen’s 214. And as a consequence he was replaced by Sergio Perez the following year leaving him without a seat for 2021 and as a reserve driver for Red Bull.

The news of being replaced were delivered to him by team principal Christian Horner when he went to his office in the factory. He knew it was coming because of all the noise from the media. “I do genuinely believe that Christian and Helmut, they really wanted it to work, the reason why I was told so late was because they gave me to the last race to try and show my worth, so, for that, you know, I genuinely do believe they wanted the best for me, but it just didn't work out and, you know, obviously ‘Sergio is going to take your place and we'll keep you as a simulator driver if you accept, we'll try to find you a place for the year after’ and so that was it” - High Performance.

As much as the 2020 season was painful, he didn’t find the relief he thought he would because all he wanted was to get back again.

On the year away, he had two clear objectives to work on. On one side, he worked on being less of a yes man like he was at Red Bull and prioritising himself. And on the other just performance wise, where were his weaknesses.

The first two months he used them to find the structure he needed, “I need to actually live and figure out where my money is going, what am I doing kind of thing and get the network going, so I had a true team. And I chose people that were, maybe not the most experienced in their role but would fight for me to the death and these are the same people that I have with me to this day, you know. people who wanted an opportunity but cared for me. So I took a guy from Red Bull, who always fought my corner, no matter how tough the situation was, he became my manager and then my trainer who's obviously been with me from the very beginning, so I created my network.” - High Performance.

But working on his driving was a very tough task because he couldn’t actually drive the car, so he did a lot of work at the simulator which made him understand a lot of things better. He wanted to do what it takes to get himself to be the best driver he can be and consequently put him in the best position.

On a professional level, he wanted to do the best job for the team to show that he was a valuable asset, not just for Red Bull but for every other team. So he wanted to make the car as quick as possible.

Even though he was on the sidelines he was helping Checo get comfortable with the car and he was driver coaching Yuki Tsunoda who was one of the junior drivers at Alpha Tauri. “It was this weird thing because, for example with Yuki, I wanted to take his seat, he was a potential candidate that I could replace. But then I remember having that chat with Helmut Marko, he told me at the time ‘you need to driver coach this guy’ and I was like ‘I'm not going to, that's a potential seat’ and he said ‘no, no he's already signed like he's guaranteed’ so I was like okay fine.” - High Performance. And clearly, his work paid off because Red Bull Racing won the 2021 driver world championship, albeit controversial. “I was listening to Max and Checo, I was there at the time, and obviously Checo was new, but Max drove the car last year and he was talking about how much better the rear felt, how much more stable it was and you're just like ah, you know it does hurt a little bit, but at the same point you're like okay that's great you know, i've i feel like i've contributed to that.” - Beyond the Grid 2022.

At the same time, Alex participated in 14 of 16 races of the 2021 Deutsche Tourenwagen Masters alongside Formula 2 Driver Liam Lawson for the Italian outfit AF Corse with the backing from Red Bull.

He won his maiden DTM race at the Nürburgring, becoming the first Thai driver to do so.. “Today, that was a really good day for my team and for myself,” Albon said after becoming the first DTM race winner from Thailand. “The team has been working hard overnight and that paid off. Today, we have made a step forward, we want to carry over this momentum.” - dtm.com.

For 2022 he regained a seat for Williams Racing. For this to happen one of his best friends, George Russell [to learn more about galex click here by @onadarklingplain] helped put a good word for him in the team, since he was a driver for them and was moving to Mercedes, and a spreadsheet he made comparing his results relative to Max and of the other two teammates the man had.

“Alex is one of the most exciting young talents in motorsport, yet comes with a large amount of F1 experience from his time at Red Bull. His multiple podium finishes highlight his speed as a driver, and we know he will immediately feel at home with the team at Grove.” - Jost Capito, CEO of Williams Racing via williams.com.

Alex now feels much more comfortable since joining Williams and has learned a lot about different things, “I've got a very good team around me, you know, it's a core team now. It's maybe four of us at this point but they protect my best interest to heart. Like right now, for example, it's very hard for the team to get access to free time of mine or you know they want to come and see me in Monaco and film a piece with me or whatever, they're laughing behind the scenes. But it's true that I've got a good group around.

And the other thing is purely the wealth of knowledge that you get. It sounds silly to say because I've only been in Formula 1 for four years now, but I know what the car needs in terms of an engineer I think. I don't want to sound silly saying this, or arrogant saying this but I do think I could engineer a car to a decent level by myself, if I needed to, I wouldn't get everything right definitely, check how much fuel is in the car, but in terms of like General scientific point of view I understand it. And the final thing which is the biggest thing is I'm just not tense, I'm at one with the car, I know what the car's going to do before I go into the corner.” - High Performance.

#alex albon #formula 1 #f1 #m*#my god its been a long time since i did a research of something #i made sure that the links to the podcast are on the minute when he says the things 😭#anyway sorry if there is any mistakes english is not my mother language and all that

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sofs16 · 4 months

Text

let you break my heart again— 1

series link | next part

yn yln, a middle class american girl who moved to monaco, has done nothing but love charles leclerc, her next door neighbor. yn being practically family to the leclerc’s.

since the moment she was old enough to acknowledge those butterflies in her stomach, it was all coming together in her innocent mind that she was in love.

going together to school every morning with the other 2 leclercs and yn’s older sister, kylie, it was always the giggles of charles and yn that made the 2 older siblings look knowingly at each other. with arthur too young to understand the chemistry between the two.

it was a thursday school night in 2008 when charles kissed yn on the cheek quickly with a rushed “ciao!” before he going to his house to make it to dinner after their hangout.

yn stood still at the front door, her cheek in her hand.

charles always did a kiss on the cheek but it had never felt so… different to yn.

she rushed up the stairs to do her special knock on her older sister’s room. “come in, yn” her sister muttered, buried under the blankets as her 11 year old sister stood in the hallway with tears.

kylie sat up her bed as soon as she saw the bloodshot eyes of her little sister. “what happened? who am i punching?” her sister sobbed into her chest. “i- i don’t know” she hiccuped. “it feels ouchy” she added “what does?” her sister pulled away and examined her

“charles” she whispered her best friend’s name. “did he hurt you? what did he-“ “no! i- he kissed me on the cheek. that’s normal, i know, but i— i don’t know” yn mumbled, embarrassed at her lack of understanding her feelings.

“oh” her sister sighed, combing through her hair. “is it possible… you may have a tiny crush on charles?” her sister asked and everything went silent.

her friends all had a crush on him. she didn’t understand it at the time. but, hello! he is her best friend, she didn’t think she could like charles that way.

In a way, it made sense. though she always shrugged it off when it was brought up. charles had been karting for 3 years already, making him one of the guys all the girls in your year crushed on.

“yn, you’re sooo lucky you’re close to charles!”

“if i was his best friend i’d hang out with him all the time”

“yn, isn’t charles cute?”

it seemed appalling to her that she was feeling this way. “no way.” she whispered. of course her sister wasn’t buying it, but she decided to nod along. “wanna just watch that harry potter movie you love? and talk about it some other time?” her sister reached over to the remote, turning the tv on but all yn could think about was how charles loved harry potter.

the next day in school, charles smiled and waved at yn, like the usual. but this time, yn’s heart was pulling little strings, making it 16 times heavier with love.

she didn’t know it yet, but she was in love.

yn_yln_16

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yn_yln_16 Happiest birthday, Charlie! I am grateful you’re in my life.❤️

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charles_leclerc Je aime, Y/n/n! You are next! october 16, 2009

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charles_leclerc Joyeux anniversaire yn_yln_16! Thank you for being the bestest friend I could ever ask for! view all 7 comments

yn_yln_16 Merci beaucoup, Charlie ❤️ november 3, 2009

yn_yln_16

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yn_yln_16 Throwback post for my favorite boys

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leclerc_pascale 😍

charles_leclerc Cute, cherie!

july 3, 2010

YN • 2012 • 14:03

another friday afternoon you once again headed straight to your sister’s room.

since that night when you were 11, there were many many nights behind closed doors where you would cry to you sister who didn’t need to ask why.

but recently, you haven’t bothered to cry. with no idea didn’t know how to cope with it. ”he’s dating lacy” the name of your best friend ex- best friend rolled off your tongue bitterly.

now at 15, your crush for charles has you bursting with pain the more. more girls fawning over him and he loved the attention.

lacy was everything you wish you could be. but most of all, you wished you were her because charles liked her.

you swallowed the lump in your throat as you saw them giggling down the hall, fingers interlaced. you rushed the the bathroom, quietly banging your head against the stall to suck it up.

you never did have the courage to confess to charles. it was your fault.

“it’s okay, i’ll always be here” your sister hushed you to sleep. even if she had been building her own business, she always had time for you.

“can you wake me up before 8? he’s coming over” you mumbled “i know, it’s friday”

every other friday at 8pm you and charles always binge watched some random movies, occasionally doing homework while watching.

he’s been racing more and that means you see less of him. these friday's were the most you both got to each other. you had bought some snacks 2 days ago with his mom’s weekly grocery run, picking precisely all his favorite snacks.

20:03

you bounced your leg up and down while a pillow was resting on it, dialing charles.

voicemail.

“hey charlie! i just heated the popcorn, where are you? it’s going to get cold… love you”

20:11

voicemail.

“Hey, charlie! I know I just called but are you still coming over? Love you!”

20:23

“hey charles. Are we still on for harry potter night?” you rang him for the 3rd time this hour, receiving yet another voice mail.

21:01

“y/n/n, where’s charles?” your sister was tiptoeing to the kitchen but realized you had no one beside you.

you shrugged with a frown. “did he say where he was?” she sat down beside you as you shook your head. “i’ve been waiting for an hour. left 5 voice mails” you mumbled, clutching the pillow closer to you.

silence filled the room

“yn, stop waiting for him.” your sister whispered. you inhaled as you could tell it was a two pointed comment.

only a handful of times your sister brought this up, you to move on. you would always argue it was too hard and you couldn’t do it. but you just didn’t allow yourself to.

you cared a little too much for charles and it made your stomach turn at the thought.

you let yourself believe all the friendly things he did meant more to him, as much as they did to you. the tucking your hair behind your ear, the little nicknames, the cuddling on movie nights, and much more.

you also let yourself forget he always refers to you as his ‘best friend’.

“i’ve held been there for you for the last 4 years but you are hurting yourself by waiting for him when there are so many boys who would kill to have even one drop of love you give to charles” you bit your lip, looking away to stop the tears, that were pooling in your eyes, from falling.

“i love him so much” you whispered, glossy eyes. “i know…” she embraces you “we all do”

with a heavy heart, you packed up all the stupid snacks you had gotten, switched the tv off, and locked the door.

00:21

Charlie ❤️

Y/n/n I am so sorry. I was out with Lacy and the others and I lost track of time. Can we reschedule? :)

delivered

Pascale knew from the start regarding your feelings for her middle child. as soon as you fumbled your words, turned tomato red at charles, and kept fixing your hair when he left the room, she knew.

that’s why she found it most interesting when charles came to her for help while she was trimming his hair. “Maman, s’il te plaît please! She is ignoring me and I do not know what to do” Charles groans in frustration. He hasn’t heard from you in 4 days and even in school.

“My Charles, je ne comprends pas i don’t understand. Why did you stand her up in the first place? That girl has been running around the grocery all week for your favorite foods” His maman shook her head in disapproval while trimming his hair.

“It is not like I meant to do it! I do not know how to say sorry in more than 4 languages, Maman!”

“Sometimes actions are more than words, Charles”

you sighed getting to school, another day to ignore charles and your feelings for him. you opened your locker to find a bouquet of flowers sitting on top of your books.

instinctively, you looked around the hall to who could have put it, but you already had an idea of who. only one person knew your lock combination.

you read the note attached.

Dearest y/n/n,

I know what I did was wrong and I can not tell you how sorry I am so these are flowers for you.

You are my best friend and I am mad at myself for putting other people before us. I promise to always be there for you more.

If you will forgive me, which I hope you do, come to my house at 8 ! :)

I know this letter is not enough but we can talk about it if you come.

Yours, Charlie

before your overthinking started, you were already planning which pajamas to wear. but the thought did start to sink in once the bell rang.

did you really forgive him? were you ready to go back to plastering on a fake smile instead of ignoring him?

though charles was your best friend and you truly don’t want to lose him at all, the short period of time you spent without him pestering your emotions, was the most calm in the last few years.

you took a deep breath before knocking on the door. “hi”

— INSTAGRAM FILE

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc Back from the first race ever in Kz in La Conca!

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lacy_1998 Hottie 😍

yn_yln_16 Most talented driver ❤️ WDC incoming!

charles_leclerc

liked by yn_yln_16, lacy_1998, and 102 others charles_leclerc 3rd at the last round of the European Championship in Genk!

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lacy_1998 Next time 1st! yn_yln_16 Proudest of you! Another one for the shelf ❤️

leclerc_pascale ❤️

#SOF : decided to make it a series 🫠 hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts or if you want more parts haha

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #sof speaks now !#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc 16 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines

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dancingdonatello · 3 months

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Hi!! So remember when Donnie (evaporated?) in the 2012 show? I was wondering if you could do a Donnie x reader with one shot where the reader got significantly clingier after the events of that episode out of fear that he was going to disappear again. Ur writing style is rlly smooth btw keep up the good work

2012 donnie x gn reader

It wasn’t really hard to notice.

How you’d call him every morning when he would leave your home before dawn or when you’d wake up from a nap and immediately look for him.

Or even how you’d look like a wreck when he came into the lair a few minutes after his brothers after a rough mission.

And maybe, just maybe, it was a bit unhealthy of Donnie to like it. But he did. He really did. He craved the feeling of being loved so much.

But the delightful feeling of being wanted was starting to dim with how you were staying to get worse. He could see bags under your eyes. He could see how stressed you got when he had to do something a little more dangerous than dealing with 2 lowly Purple Dragons members or a single foot solider.

And he knew he was making it worse by not confronting you. And hurting you was way worse than this feeling he had.

Here you were now, standing in the doorway of your bedroom and staring him down as you brushed your teeth.

“You don’t want to do that over the sink?” Donnie asked, hugging a pillow that smelled like you. Or well, it should’ve. You had bought him a shirt, forced him to wear it, and then placed it over the pillow. It just smelled normal to him.

You shrugged. You walked backwards back into the bathroom. In less than thirty seconds you were back into the room and in bed next to him.

“Are you excited?” You clicked on a movie on your laptop, smiling at him.

He nodded, quietly thinking over how to get a message across to you. He laid on his plastron, mirroring your position. In two seconds you were pressed against his side, smiling at him sweetly as if nothing was wrong.

“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?” he bumped his shoulder to yours. “You don’t need to… worry.”

“I know,” you said a little too quickly. Then you sat up a little too quickly. “I mean. You were just gone!”

He sat up beside you, looking a little unsure on how to approach this. “It’s not going to happen again. April… it won’t happen again.”

You still looked worried but it melted away when he opened his arms. You dove in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. “It better not,” you sighed, not meaning your words at all, “or I’ll get super, super mad, okay?”

#donatello x reader #tmnt x reader #2012 tmnt x reader #2012 donatello x reader #2012 donnie x reader #donatello hamato x reader

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mamibaddie · 27 days

Text

Warning: panty-stealing, subliminal mention of a threesome, some SMUT 18+ only please!

Imagine Eddie and Charlie being friends with one another. They share a mutual love for horror movies. Eddie, who is more free-spirited and knows (a little bit) more about sex than Charlie, is the one that helps Charlie feel a bit more empowered in his own sexuality. They both tell each other everything, so it surprises Eddie when he comes across a pair of red lace underwear under the bed that definitely isn’t Charlie’s.

“Hey, I couldn’t find the 2012 version of ‘The Thing’ but I found the 1982 one…” Charlie stopped in his tracks. Eddie was holding up the pair of red lace underwear with his index finger.

“Some underwear you got here. And by the looks of it…it seems to be your guilty pleasure.” Eddie said with a smirk. Charlie was flustered, turning a beet red color. He couldn’t believe Eddie found his secret. Then again, he could. He’s always been a little nosy.

Charlie didn’t know what quite to say. He must’ve looked like a fish out of water, his lips closing and opening to get ready to say something. But his brain stopped working.

“So what store did you steal them from this time?” Eddie asked, as he flopped down on Charlie’s bed, laying on his side. You see, Charlie had a knack for stealing women’s underwear from numerous stores. It could be Victoria’s Secret, Target, you name it. But these particular underwear wasn’t stolen from a store.

“They’re…um… I didn’t steal them from a store.”

The silence in the room was loud. You could see Eddie’s gears turning in his mind. Trying to connect the mystery pieces together with what vague information Charlie provided.

“If you didn’t steal them from a store…then that must mean….” Eddie jumped up, wide eyed, sporting a smile.

“You got them from fucking…” Eddie snapped his fingers trying to come up with the name, as if he hasn’t committed it to memory. It took about five seconds before Eddie blurted out your name. Charlie closed his eyes and deeply sighed.

“You fucked her, didn’t you?! Tell me, what was it like?” Eddie sat with his feet firmly planted on the ground. “Was she like, “oh-oh Charlie, fuck you’re sooo good. Fuck me like you do in your fantasies!!’” Eddie did a poor imitation of what your voice might sound like. Though, Charlie wouldn’t know.

“I didn’t fuck her.” He came out and said.

“What do you mean you didn’t fuck her?”

“I mean…” Charlie said snatching the underwear from Eddie’s hand and placing it in his nightstand, “I didn’t fuck her. I just…took it from her drawer..”

Eddie looked at him for a second and then howled with laughter before clapping his hands and placing one of them on his shoulders. “I’m rubbing off on you more and more…. No pun intended by the way.” Charlie moved his shoulder away from him. He felt like a creep. There he was in your dorm, the only reason he was there was because of a group project for class. You had asked him if he needed any water. Charlie said yes please, he did feel a bit thirsty, just not for water. While you were downstairs, he looked around your room. He scanned through the photos that were hung, the many rings that you wear, even the perfume that you had; to which he sprayed some on the inside of his shirt so he can smell you once he gets home. Until he got to your dresser. A little bit of red peeking out. He looked towards the door and turned his ear to hear if you were coming in soon. You weren’t. So, curiosity got the best of him. He opened your drawer and there they were. He didn’t even think twice before quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in his back pocket.

After Charlie told Eddie exactly how he got his hands on them, Eddie wore a wolffish grin. Charlie laughed, “why are you looking like that?”

Eddie replied, “We should try to win her over.”

Charlie went wide-eyed and shook his head “no, no. I don’t think so. She doesn’t roll like that.”

Eddie shrugged, “you never know. We can always just ask her. If she’s not with it, no worries. But if she is….”

Charlie couldn’t help but think about it. It did sound enticing, kissing you, touching you… he can’t say he hasn’t entertained the thought of being inside of you. How he’d loved to feel you wrapped around him. Him moaning and whimpering in your ear about how soft and wet you are. God, it must feel like Heaven.

“I think junior likes the idea too.” Eddie said. Charlie furrowed his brows and looked at him in confusion. Eddie pointed at his pants. Charlie looked down and seen a bulge beginning to form on his pants.

Charlie sighed and mumbled “shut up” before making his way to the bathroom.

“Hey,” Eddie called after him.

“What?!” Charlie replied, frustrated beyond belief.

Eddie went into Charlie’s nightstand and pulled out the infamous underwear. He threw it at Charlie.

“Don’t forget your inspiration.”

#I don’t know what this even is #I just randomly thought of this #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x black!reader #charlie walker #scream fanfic #scream 4 #charlie walker x black!reader #charlie walker x you #rory culkin #joseph quinn character #joseph quinn #charlie walker smut

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ragingbookdragon · 5 months

Text

Sometimes you wonder if a man like Simon “Ghost” Riley is truly capable of such a thing as love. You’ve seen the man snap someone’s neck without a blink, inhale and unload a clip into an oncoming squad, exhale and keep going, seen him simply stare at the bodies of dead men, women, and children, unable to spare even a word of sympathy. How does a man like that even love?

You know he can though. Or at least have gone to great lengths to try and prove that he isn’t in fact as cold as he seemingly believes he is. His heart’s numb, very numb, but it isn’t dead. He perhaps wishes it was, but nevertheless, there were still things that actually made his heart beat.

He reminds you a lot of the song “Patience” by Take That. You even told him once over reminiscing old 2000s hits in the drive back to base after a night out. You’d even played the song for him and in all his sullen silence, Simon Riley sat in the backseat, wedged up against the door with one of your thighs draped over his, listening to you belt out the lyrics with Soap and Gaz doing back-up vocals. Uncomfortable seemed to be the only term he could use to describe how it felt to be so easily seen by your eyes. You aren’t all that complicated, Simon. You’re just healing from a lifetime of heartache.

Simon “Ghost” Riley is not a heartbroken man. Sure, he’s rough, cold, maybe broken mentally somehow, but he is not “broken hearted”. But he is, isn’t he? That ache that makes him grind his teeth, and he can never really tell if it’s anger or longing that makes him feel so, but there is something about seeing people living easy lives, loving so easily that makes him some semblance of bitter. But he is healing from a lifetime of heartache, isn’t he? His dad, his mom, Tommy, Joseph, all of them. Every one of them is like a lash against his heart that drains the blood and emotion from the organ, wraps it in a cage of frigid bone that he tucks so far down inside him, he’s lost the key.

But maybe you’re the key? Your smile that makes his chest feel a funny lightness, a laugh that brightens the room, a heart that never seems to break from anything, yet manages to overflow enough care and affection that it seems impossible. Simon couldn’t take losing you. You’re a bit careless sometimes. Barely escaping by the skin of your teeth. Too many close calls. He doesn’t really know how he’d manage to survive you. Sometimes, he’s too scared to even think of life without you two doors down the hall at base.

He listens to you in your room a lot. The walls aren’t very thick. You really like 2000s alternative—he hates it, speaks to him too much. How many times can I break till I shatter? Over the line, can’t define what I’m after. I always turn the car around. All that I feel is the realness I’m faking. Taking my time, but it’s time that I’m wasting. No amount of pulling a pillow through his head will get your voice out of his brain. Somehow it feels so much more powerful when it’s not the singer’s voice in his head, but yours.

It ends up with him at your door at 0300, rambling, unable to make a truly coherent thought that explains why this 230 pound, killing machine is about to have an anxiety attack. And that, ends up with him hunkered down in your bed, under your covers, wrapped in your arms. It’s downright dangerous to dally with frat regs, but nothing has ever felt so right, so good, so healing, than listening to your heartbeat in his ear. The vibrations from your vocal cords begin luring him to sleep. Technically another old song, but 2012 wasn’t too long ago. I won’t give up on us. God knows I’m tough enough. We’ve got a lot to learn. God knows we’re worth it.

He falls asleep with his head to your chest, your humming in his ears, and for once in a long time, Simon “Ghost” Riley remembers what it’s like to look up.

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lokisprettygirl · 1 year

Text

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader) (Series Masterlist)

Chapter 1

Summary : The year is 2012, Loki picks up the tesseract in an attempt to escape from the clutches of Avengers and his brother Thor only to end up in a tiny studio appartment in Minesotta, the occupant being none other than you. You reluctantly agree to hide and help the crazy god of mischief and terrorism wondering why you were even thinking about helping a fugitive?

Warning: 18+ This series will contain smut in the later chapters, Soft loki alert, y/n bein y/n, mention of ecstasy and being high.

His head was pounding as he came back to consciousness. His body was threatening to give out any moment, his vision seemed blurry when he opened his eyes, the last thing he remembered was picking up the tesseract because those Avengers were foolish enough to drop the case carrying the precious cube.

"Morons" he mumbled as he got up from the floor, he immediately took off the muzzle framed over his mouth and the handcuffs from the wrist, the tech was definitely destroyed now.

"Shoddy Stark technology" he mumbled before he noticed that the tesseract was a few feet away from him so he looked into his surroundings. Where in the name of hel was he? His eyes circled around, it seemed like a room or that's what he assumed, there was a kitchenette right behind him while he could clearly see the bed on the other end, there was a closet next to the bed and a dresser, a small ugly sofa was in the middle of the room. He tried to look around but all he found was two doors, one led to a small attached bathroom while the other one had a peephole which he assumed was the door to the outside world.

He spotted a screen in front of the sofa, it was kept at the opposite end of the ugly sofa, few feet adjacent to the main door.

He was familiar with these screens, they had it all around the Stark tower. He stepped towards it and tried to turn it on but the buttons didn't work, he then noticed the loose wire that he probably needed to attach to the plug on the wall so that's what he did.

The loud voice of the newscaster made him jump in his spot, he looked like a squeaky mouse at the moment, thanking the norns nobody was there to witness his humiliation.

And then he saw himself all over the screen. Apparently each and every person on midgard was witnessing his humiliation. Those Avengers had leaked every little footage they had of him, even the one where he was smashed by the Hulk repeatedly.

"The Asgardian terrorist Loki who was being taken back to Asgard has supposedly fled from the Starks tower, brother Thor claims he has no idea where Loki could be" Loki chuckled as he heard that

"Of Course he doesn't, I myself have no clue where I am" he heard a knock on the door and felt frozen in his spot. He tried to turn the screen off but it only got louder and louder so he punched the screen with his fist and well, it was broken but at least it wasn't making that awful noise. He heard the knock again so he walked slowly towards the door, making sure his footsteps were as nimble as a feline.

"Y/n? Are you there?" He heard a feminine voice. Who was y/n? He peeped from the peephole and spotted a middle aged woman. She knocked again but he didn't respond ofcourse, he watched her peeping into the hole so he took a step back, he hoped it only worked one way.

There's no way he could have gotten out there without being caught, he figured he could morph his appearance but there was a risk involved especially if he was walking around with the immense source of power that was the tesseract. Besides, where would he even go? It's not as if he knew much about how midgard worked. Maybe he should just wait for this y/n person. For some reason that seemed reasonable to him, he was extremely exhausted and ravenous, he didn't even remember the last time he had a proper meal.

Looking around the kitchen he found the refrigerator and raided it. He found a box that had chopped vegetables mixed with a type of meat so he munched on it as quickly as he could. He felt extremely warm too, the weather of midgard wasn't best suited for him, he wanted to check his appearance so he walked towards the mirror, looking at his disheveled state he wondered why he even entertained that idea.

"Hideous looking monster"

He mumbled but then he heard the main door lock twisting and it made his heart leap in his chest. He circled around the spot in a futile attempt to hide but it was just one big room, where he was supposed to hide? The closet of course.

"Mrs. Geller, how are you?" He heard a feminine voice again but he knew it didn't belong to the woman he had seen, it sounded sweeter in comparison.

"I'm good my dear, oh you know i heard your tv running in the afternoon so I was wondering if you returned early" He recognised that voice. Was that old woman spying on this particular apartment all the time?

"Are you sure it came from my place? I mean I just got back" he heard the sweet voice again. This voice must belong to the y/n person he figured. He was oddly grateful to not end up in Mrs. Geller's apartment.

He heard those voices going back and forth and finally the main door unlocked.

"I'll just accompany you in case there's a burglar here" Mrs. Geller said and you gave out a little laugh. The laugh sounded even sweeter to him.

"I'm so thankful for you, really..thank you for checking up on me but nobody is here..seeeee?" You told her and she looked around before she left.

"Have a good night Mrs Geller" you quickly shut the door behind her. Taking a deep breath you sighed but then your phone started to ring and it made you groan, you couldn't catch a break today.

"Hey mommm..just a sec" you greeted her in a sing-song manner as you made your way towards the closet. Loki's heartbeat sped as the footsteps approached so he immediately casted an invisibility spell, he wondered why did he even hide in the closet instead of just using the invisibility charm in the first place.

He closed his eyes as the closet door opened and something hit him right in the face. He wanted to squeal but decided against it, once the closet door closed again he inspected the garment that was thrown on his face. It was a brassiere, ladies on Asgard used to wear these too. Huh, why women must torment themselves everywhere he wondered.

Another boring day where nothing interesting happened to you or for you. You were going to turn thirty in a few days and you could feel your life slipping past your fingers. Every person you had ever known in your life were off doing their thing, being successful in their chosen careers, getting married, raising babies and what not while you were stuck in your personal as well as professional life.

"Mom..you know the attack happened in New York right so quit worrying?" Loki heard you talking to someone and you mentioned the attack, the attack that he had caused under the influence of the mind stone.

"Whattt?" You walked towards the refrigerator to take out the chicken salad that you had prepared last night. Your mom just told you that the terrorist had escaped from the Stark tower, it was all over the news "Okayy okay calm down it's not as if he would come here of all places and just attack me in my apartment you know?" You chuckled but your eyes widened in anger as you saw the empty box of Salad. Did you eat it last night? You were too high to remember it. "Look mom I'll call you later, gotta go..food emergency"

As Loki stepped out of the closet he saw a woman in front of the refrigerator, well he saw your jeans cladded plumped arse, you had a white shirt on along with it. And then you turned around. All he heard in that moment was a loud scream that felt deafening to him.

"Stop screaminggg"

There was a man in your apartment. A strange weird looking man, Mrs. Geller was right, oh you were going to die and your soul would haunt this apartment forever. Serves you right for wasting all this time you had to fulfill your dreams and goals in life.

Now you always thought of yourself as the person who'd choose to fight in such a situation but you were getting a reality check now. You had no fight in you, you were frozen in your spot waiting for your impending death by the hands of a burglar. You both kept staring at each other but you finally gasped when you heard the knock on the door.

"Listen to me mortal ..uhhh lady. I do not want to cause any harm so I'd appreciate it if you're just willing to listen to me..just for a moment?" you looked at him dumbfounded, you wanted to run but he was standing near the door and you figured he'd grab you if you even tried that. You grabbed a knife from the knife stand and threw it right at him, which he caught with his mere fingers. Ofcourse. Who did you think you were? Hawkeye?

"Brilliant of you to pass the weaponry into the hands of a supposed intruder" He inspected the knife and then you watched it disappear but for some reason you chose to ignore it, maybe he had a superpower, you were living in a world where anything could happen to anyone except you ofcourse. You were as basic as they come.

"What do you want? I have nothing alright, no valuables, I'm almost broke, almost is the key word here, if you want money I can..just umm transfer it to you, do you have Venmo or any other apps? I also have weed if you want that" He looked at you confused before he attempted to walk closer but you grabbed another knife as quickly as you could and took a step back.

"Stay right there mister or..or–"

"Or what? You'd gift me another weapon that I can add to my collection?" You glared at him. How dare he make fun of you? This was your house. Did he say he had a collection of weapons? You looked at him carefully as he stepped closer, your eyes widened in realization. He was no thief. No no, He was the war criminal. How come your mom was right this time?

"Oh my god you ..you are…you are… whattt..whhyyy?" Your voice came out all squeaky and it made him smile.

"Good to know I am popular in midgard now. Would you say my popularity exceeds that of my dullard brother Thor?"

Thor? He said Thor right? So he was the guy who attacked New York. A terrorist was galavanting in your humble abode, great, just amazing.

"Are you going to kill me?" You asked him as you wiped the sweat beads off your forehead. Your breathing has gotten shallower and you were close to passing out.

"No. But I need you to cooperate with me here, I am just as baffled about the situation as you are lady" he answered immediately, you had seen the leaked videos of him in Stuttgart, he was a cruel man, he was definitely going to kill that old man but the Avengers intervened thankfully. You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Loki from Asgard was standing in your studio apartment talking to you. Were you still high? You hoped so.

"What ummm how uhh i mean what are you doing here?" You asked him as you crossed your arms. Maybe you should call the Avengers.

"I do not know, the tesseract brought me here, it's eerie but I have a feeling that foolish Stark was up to something" he looked to the side as he thought about it.

"Hah" you gave him a fake laugh and he scrunched his brows. He was kind of attractive in the "I'm a sexy murderer" kind of way.

"What is so amusing?"

"No it's just..we just call him iron man you knowww" you mumbled under your breath. He could see your body trembling with fear so he approached you, probably wasn't the best idea but he really wanted to put you at ease.

"Look I know what you think of me and I do not blame you for your perceptions but I mean no harm here, I don't want to hurt you and I'm not going to, I am giving you my word" he seemed sincere but there's no way you were going to believe the words of an escaped terrorist.

"Aren't you Loki? The loki? God of lies and trickery and stuff? Why would I believe you?" You asked him so he smiled again. Cute smile. No you stop it.

"You know what, I will just sit down here-" he conjured a chair out of thin air and your eyes widened "And you can tie me up if that would make you feel safer around me"

"Huh wouldn't you want that?" You snickered and his face flushed in response.

He passed you a rope, by which you meant, he threw it right in your face but you caught it. Okay you were starting to think now, if he really wanted to hurt you he would have, he has magical powers plus the knife that you gave him like a moron, there's no way you could fight him if he really wanted to hurt you. Right?

"Why did you attack us? What did we do to you?"

"I did not attack you?" He looked at you confused. "Oh you meant the humankind, that's sweet of you to address yourself as one for all, very sentimental. Anyway it is a long long story, do you want me to narrate it all..from the beginning?" he chuckled nervously.

"It's just..you don't seem that evil..why did you hurt those people?" his eyes teared up as you said that. He knew why he hurt those people, he just wished he was able to stop himself before he did.

"I didn't want to, I don't enjoy hurting innocent creatures" he said to you and the sad little voice affected you. So you were really going to ignore him using the words creatures for humans right? "Your name is y/n i assume?"

He asked you so you nodded.

"What do you want, be honest"

"Just let me stay here until I figure this out"

"No no no no no no..Why would I allow a fugitive to stay with me? I'll be locked up too for I don't know.. abiding you and shit" you huffed

"Did you intend to use the word Abetting?" he looked at you all confused and the embarassment was enough to make you want to die.

"Look mister"

"Call me Loki"

"Mister Loki.. Prisoners under 30 isn't the magazine I have aspired to be featured in all my life.. so I need you to get out of here okay?"

"There is no way those incompetent men in costumes could find me here and-"

"They are heroes, and there's a woman in the team, her name is black widow ..they saved lives today..they–" you interrupted him and he interrupted your interruption,

"In case they do find me, just tell them that I was the one keeping you hostage over here, they'll believe you in a jiff i promise" he winked as he finished his sentence. You had to be crazy to allow this right? You had to be insane that you were already starting to believe his words.

"Tie..tie yourself up and let me think"

You passed him the rope and he used the magic to tie himself up.

"That's great..you think I'm dumb..huhh? if you can use magic to tie yourself up then you can get yourself out too" he smiled as you said that. Why did he find this mortal.. adorable in an endearing sort of way?

"Well why don't you do it then? I can't use magic if I don't see the knots myself" he told you so you thought about it. You walked towards him and he conjured another rope for you, as you reached closer you noticed the cuts and bruises on his face, he seemed hurt. He looked up at you and you tried to avoid his hypnotic gaze, why did he have to look so good? He was the sexiest man you had ever laid your eyes upon. Why did he have to be a criminal though?

After you tied him up you walked towards the tv, and that's when you noticed the broken screen so you turned around and glared at him. You watched him waving his fingers and the tv was fixed magically, ofcourse.

"Huhhh you will come in handy..if you know what I mean" you laughed as you turned the tv on.

"I actually do not know what you mean"

You saw the news of him escaping and his brother Thor has appealed to everyone that Loki was dangerously manipulative and thirsty for blood so if anyone was to spot him anywhere, there was a helpline number they could call.

"Oh my god there's a number." you jumped up and down in excitement and relief, what if Thor was right and he was manipulating you? Ofcourse Thor was right, he was his brother. You had made up your mind to call but when you looked at him, there was the saddest, mopiest, cutest look you had ever seen on a man's face.

"I can not win" he mumbled under his breath so you walked towards him.

"What did you say?" You asked him and when he looked at you, his eyes were welled up.

"Very well then, you can call them if you want" he told you so you walked towards the kitchen and picked up your phone. The look on his face was still bothering you though. What if there was a story behind what he did? No no.. people got hurt, he was evil, call the bloody Avengers and get yourself out of this problematic situation. But what if he was not evil? Iron man harmed so many lives before he became a hero. You felt crazy playing this mental circus with yourself.

"I must be losing my mind" you mumbled as you put the phone down on the kitchen counter "Okay fine..but if you're even thinking about hurting innocent people again let me tell you mister I'll keep that number on my speed dial and I will call it asap" you crossed your arms as you walked towards him and yelled at him so he nodded like a child

"Okay good..ummm are you like hungry or something..oh wait you must not be hungry since you ate my salad" you glared at him and it made him smile again. You'd rather see that then the glum look on his face.

"I do apologize for my ill-mannered conduct, should have asked for permission before I fed on that well seasoned grass you had prepared for yourself " you rolled your eyes at the comment

"No need to judge..I'm trying to lose fat here"

"You don't have to"

"Really? Because lyla keeps telling me that I'm getting chubbier everyday"

"Well this Lyla needs to shut her muzzle then" your face flushed as he looked at you intently, was he checking you out? Maybe In your dreams.

"I'll untie you, you can go shower.. you smell like blood and burned leather..the bathroom is there" he chuckled as you said that. You weren't wrong about that.

"No need to untie me and I truly appreciate the offer" he flexed his arms and you gasped as the rope was shredded in pieces. He could have gotten out anytime he wanted.

"May i?" He raised his hand forward so you placed your fingers on his large ass hands that seemed to be the size of minnesota. He brought your hand up to his lips and gave it a chaste kiss.

"You're very kind my lady, thank you, I won't disappoint you i promise" he mumbled as he turned around and stepped inside the bathroom. You kept staring at the pieces of ropes all over. He could have gotten out and stop you from calling the Avengers but he didn't. He could have hurt you but he didn't. Huh

"Wash your hair ..you look like a pine tree" You yelled and you heard him laughing at the comment. That was beautiful. How dare he?

What were you getting yourself into here?

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Here we go folks 😁

Tag list (if you want to be tagged or removed let me know)

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72

@nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @littlespaceyelf @fictive-sl0th @huntress-artemiss @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee

#loki x female reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #post avengers loki #canon divergent au

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