#renault x reader

[fanfic-she-wrote]

With all of the Renault content lately, I’ve been feeling so spoiled but would it be a bother to ask for more? If you’re up for it, could I request a blurb with 💪🐾 and 💕? Thanks! 😊

Just Married

Captain Renault x reader

Renault finally ties the knot and marries reader. A bit spicey. Nothing graphic though. No swears. Casablanca was also released 80 years ago today! Hope you like it!

💪 Bridal Carry

🐾 Pet names

💕 Kisses

From this prompt list

The sounds of tin cans could be heard dragging behind the car that brought you and Renault to your hotel. You had just been married and were on your way to your honeymoon.

It had been a couple years since the war had ended and Louis found himself in America along with Rick, where he met you. Upon coming to America he thought he would have a bit of fun being the French playboy, but the minute he saw you he knew those days were over. You were the one. Also, you were Rick’s sister/brother and if Louis broke your heart he would have to answer to him which was not something he wanted to do.

You and Renault ran out of the car towards your door laughing all the way. You had put your hand on the doorknob when he suddenly stopped you. “Wait a minute.”

“What?” You asked turning to face him.

“It’s a tradition to carry someone you love over the threshold and I’m not about to break it now.” With that, he picked you up and held you in his arms. “There. Now open the door my sweet!” He exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement any further. He just couldn’t wait to finally get some time alone with you.

As told you twisted the knob and opened the door for him. He was surprisingly strong and carried you like he would carry a leaf. Carefully he placed you down and shut the door, locking it behind him. You barely had a chance to compose yourself before you found his lips pressed against your’s pushing you towards the bed.

“I’ve waited so long for this.” He breathed.

“Whoa, slow down hot stuff…” You said, giving him a slight push. “Let me get ready first.”

He gave you a quick look up and down. “You look fine to me.” He went to kiss you again, but you stopped him.

“I’ll only be a moment.” You assured him with a wink disappearing into the bathroom.

He sat on the bed and waited. Throughout the whole time you dated he did his best to control himself. You were different from anyone else he had been with, which were mostly one night stands. It was torture, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom. His jaw dropped at how unbelievably sexy you were. Not that you weren’t always sexy. In fact, he found himself feeling slightly nervous, why he didn’t know. Which was odd for him. Maybe it was a newly wed thing to be nervous?

“I don’t think I have to ask to know what you think.” You remarked sitting on his lap.

“I think…I’m lucky to have someone like you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He admitted. You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair, making him melt. You hadn’t expected him to say that. You stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I love you, Louis.”

“I love you too.”

[natailiatulls07]

Bed sides

Daniel Ricciardo x female!reader

Summary - Y/n and Daniel have set bed sides, why though?

Warning - none 😚

-

When Y/n and Daniel moved into their first place together, they quick established that she would sleep on the right. Why? Because that would mean she would be furthest from the door and Daniel could protect her if anyone would barge in during the dead of night.

And that’s how it stayed until during a lazy day, curiosity hit. Whilst listening to her favourite podcast, they mentioned bed sides and that sparked something in Y/n.

-

They were going about doing their night routine. Both Daniel and Y/n at their his and hers sinks. She was spearing on the multiple serums and moisturers, and Daniel brushing his teeth.

“Danny?” She spoke up “You reckon I can sleep on your side of the bad tonight?” Y/n knew it was cheeky suggest, especially knowing how protective the Aussi is of her.

Daniel just turned, tooth brush hanging from his mouth with foamed up toothpaste outlining his lips. “Eh?”

Y/n just chuckled softly, having caught him at a wrong time. “Can we swap sides tonight?”

Spitting out his toothpaste and rinsing his mouth with mouthwash. Daniel just shook his head, “Um no.” It was a quick shut down, he did not want to talk about it further.

“Why not?” She pressed on. Finishing up her skincare and following after Daniel, who was still shaking his head.

He settled himself down on his side of the bed. “Well you know…” He took a deep breath, almost feeling ashamed of what he’s going to say next. “I have you sleep there because…I feel like I can protect you”

As if on cue, Y/n’s heart just swelled. One thing she loves in a relationship is assertive dominance and that’s what she felt right now. “Aww Danny” She climbed into bed on her side with a lovesick smile gracing her lips.

Daniel just waved her off, blushing madly. “Do you still want to sleep on my side?” He asked nervously, desperately not wanting to swap side.

Y/n’s laughter filled their soft bedroom. “No don’t worry, you can continue to protect me Dan”

“Good, I love you darling”

“I love you too Danny”

-

[quotessharry]

THE CHEST HAIR IS DRIVING ME FUCKING CRAZY I CANT HOLD IT IN ANYMORE OMG OMG OMG

[saintescuderia]

Why Daniel Ricciardo Really *Really* Needs To Do Well in Australia

He said he has nothing to prove but many (Helmut Marko) would disagree

Daniel Ricciardo was all smiles while being interviewed in a domestic terminal in Australia. As he should be. Going back home to Perth before having his home race so early on in the season is exactly what he would want right now. Comfort. Security. Familiarity. 

Especially since those three things are the key parts missing in his F1 career right now. 

A renowned late-breaker, Daniel was well suited to Red Bull’s cars that were aerodynamically superior and with a focus on the front end. Hence why they suit his driving style; there is no need for heavy breaking or understeer. As per McLaren’s cars which were rear-end focused and required such breaking. 

Whilst Daniel Ricciardo’s lack of adaptability can be a source of criticism unto itself — isn’t a marker of a good driver that they can adapt? — it’s almost excusable. Daniel Ricciardo never belonged in a McLaren! Blue is his colour, not papaya. It’s just the car, the team. He was “unrecognisable” from all the “bad habits” he picked up being away from his ‘home team’ at Red Bull. 

So, of course, it was inevitable that he did come back to Red Bull. 

Inevitable in the sense that the “soft spot” Christian Horner has for Daniel Ricciardo is evident in how, despite Max Verstappen’s performance in 2017, Horner was still willing to compromise on the ‘lead driver’ model Red Bull so often adopts. 2018’s move to Renault was a shock in more ways than one; “we gave him everything he wanted,” was the line Horner gave. 

Daniel’s comeback was two fold and staggered all the same. He was in the infamous ‘marketing role’ (that evaded a proper official title) for Red Bull Racing — which helped promote the awkwardly lacklustre pairing of Max Verstappen and Checo Perez — before infamously replacing Nyck De Vries for 2023’s AlphaTauri. However, it was staggered by the wrist injury from a collision with the other Australian driver. The one who replaced him at McLaren. The one who can adapt to McLaren’s break earlier/rear-end style of car that Daniel never seemed to adapt to. 

A style of car that the likes of Liam Lawson drove — and outperformed — in spectacular drives when he replaced the injured Ricciardo late last year. 

So where does this leave our Australian Honey Badger? He’s demonstrated the wider Paddock that he isn’t very skilled in adapting to cars, he’s lacking in driver confidence — which is crucial for late-breaking, a fundamental to his successful overtaking — and is being outperformed by both Yuki Tsunoda and Sergio Perez. As in, the two people he needs to beat to resume his seat next to Max Verstappen. 

Daniel started 2024 topping Bahrain FP1 to now finishing both races at the back end of the grid. The race this weekend in Australia is going to have a massive spotlight in him. And this is not just because his face is plastered everywhere as the Australian GP markets the shit out of the charismatic face of F1. He really, really, really will need to do well to show that the last two races were just him off to a rocky start, that this is not the end. 

Because if it is, it really will be the end. 

[delicateflappizzaplaid]

Carlos Sainz

#cs55🌶️

← Main Masterlist

[misspaddockverse]

Half of My Soul (as the poets say)

(Daniel Ricciardo/OFC, 138k words, complete)

Daniel stared at the plant vase. He couldn't recall the moment it appeared on their varanda but he was sure it wasn't there the last time he checked. When was it the last time he went to varanda again? Oh. Forget it. It was just an ordinary plant vase. He supposed he could ask Eleonor about it. But that gave him a bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach: since when were they so out of sync about their house disposition? That was probably just the tip of the iceberg, considering their respective careers, the education of their son and, of course, their marriage in a fucking stupid crisis.

Tags: Angst; Married Couple; Sexual Tension; Second Chances; Renault Driver Daniel Ricciardo; Daniel Ricciardo Leaves Red Bull; Daniel Ricciardo Appreciation; Formula 1 Season 2022; Domestic Fluff; Established Relationship; Author Is Sleep Deprived;

READ HERE

[ladymarvel27]

YELLOW TULIPS | Esteban Ocon (I)

Esteban Ocon x gasly!fem!reader

(pictures are from pinterest)

Summary: You are Pierre’s twin and Esteban and Pierre don’t get along, which is a deadly combo for when you and Esteban like each other.

Word count: 879.

Warnings: None.

Part II Part III

You slowly opened the cabinet, your hands trying to reach for a small bag on the top. To your disappointment, you weren’t tall enough to reach. Why the hell did he put it at that height? Your hand was dancing there pointlessly.

“Need help?” A male voice called you behind. You turned around and saw a very tall man standing, his hands on his hips. You instantly recognized him. “Esteban?” He nodded. "And you are..." he raised his eyebrows, "Y/N?" His eyes glint as he recognised you.

You saw him last time when you were fourteen. You used to see Pierre go-karting many years ago.  You had a teeny-tiny crush on Esteban and you knew he was also smitten by you. After that, you were too busy to attend the races and support your brother. Not this year.

“Yes, and I would really need your help,” you said, pointing to the bag on the shelf. “Yeah, sure.”

His hand easily reached the bag and he handed it to you. Yeah, the tallest driver on the grid.

“Thank you.” He smiled at you and then reached for another bag on the next shelf.

“Will you be there at the race?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, your eyes darting to his pink lips.

“Uh Huh!” You both broke eye contact when you heard someone clear their throat. You turned your neck.

“Hey, Esteban,” Pierre said with a smile, probably a fake one, “I see, you’ve already met my sister.”

You could clearly see the tension between the two. Pierre doesn’t like you talking to Esteban. Or seeing him at all. He probably saw how you were looking at his lips.

“They were looking for you at the hospitality.”

“Yeah, I was just here to get my bag, I am coming.”

“You should leave, I will be after you.”

“Yep,” he said to Pierre then turned to you, “Okay, see you later.”

You gave him a smile, “Yeah.”

Pierre raised his eyebrows in suspicion. Esteban grabbed his bag and left.

“Why were you here?” He asked.

“For my bag.”

“And what were you doing with him?”

“I couldn’t reach it as it was kept on the top shelf. So, he helped me.” You replied.

He looked around and gave a long sigh. You knew what message he was trying to convey.

“So… I’ll see you after the race. You know where you have to be.” He said as he left.

Esteban was a cute little boy back then. Pierre introduced you to him. He was very energetic. He gave you a yellow tulip and they were your favourite flowers. You were so happy that you gave him a kiss on his cheek which angered your brother. When you and Pierre returned home, he scolded you. And you had never seen Esteban after until today.

You reached the paddock where the others were. You had to reach Pierre but you couldn’t find him. You got lost amongst the busy workers when you bumped into a tall stature.

“Y/N? You arrived!” Esteban squealed which made some head turns. You silently hoped that Pierre didn’t hear him squeal after seeing you arrive. You loved your brother, and he cared about you way too much than required.

“Yeah,” you nodded nervously, “good luck for your race, see you afterwards.” You started leaving when he stopped you by grabbing your wrist. He dropped your hand when you both had eye contact. “Y/N,” he spoke softly, “I am happy to see you after all these years.” His eye darted to your lips and he probably had started to lean.

“Ocon!” A voice had called him.

“See you.” He said as he left. You noticed a note in your hand. It had a cell number written on it and a message.

Text me later- E.

You knew you were there to support your brother, but your eyes were always on car number 31. You sighed in relief when you saw him ending at P6.

You saw his interview was over and he was free. You decided to text the number.

To Esteban: I noticed how sneaky you were in these matters, giving your number to me. Btw, it’s Y/N.

You hit send and off the phone, not sure if he will get the message or not.

Your phone dings a few minutes later.

From Esteban: Meet me in the paddock.

You knew Pierre was last so you had some time before he arrives back. You quickly went and saw him, his arms wide open for you to embrace him. You sprinted into his arms as he closed his arms around, and you wrapped your arms around his torso. You stayed in his arms for a while, listening to his heartbeat.

Both of you pulled away.

“Will you hang out afterwards?” He asked.

“Anyone else with you?”

“Nope. Maybe Lance. I am not sure if he is willing to hang out today.”

“Then swing around by eight. It won’t be bad to have Lance around.”

“See you later then.” He replied as you leave, waving goodbye.

It was good to see him after all these years. You felt a fire catching on your old crush on him and didn’t have a problem with it. But your brother will surely have.

[joelslegalwhre]

I told them to

pairing ⁀➷ daniel ricciardo x reader

word count ⁀➷ 916 more or less

summary ⁀➷ You're Daniel's new performance coach, it's your first race with him, and you're allowed to talk to him on the radio before and after the race. Who allowed that though, is something you don't know yet...

warnings ⁀➷ fluff, idek if this needs any warnings

a/n ⁀➷ My “read more” isn’t working at the moment so I can’t add that. Sorry to everyone who’s bothered by that!

As always, if I missed a warning please tell me! I've written this years ago, and I still like it, but it may differ from my more previous works.

Also, what's better than a Daniel os to start posting f1 content on here?

You've met Daniel and the team last week to get to know them, and there was really no reason to be scared. The team has welcomed you with open arms and, even after one meeting, you could feel that they would have your back if something happens.

Nevertheless, your heart was beating faster than usual.

"Y/N!" you heard a familiar voice call your name, belonging to Daniel. He jogged to you and gave you a big smile. "Hey, good morning." you greeted him with a smile in return. You walked to the Renault hospitality and on the way, you and Daniel talked about the upcoming race but he could sense that you were nervous.

"C'mon, l'lI show you around." he said and put his hand on your back to guide you to the garage. "So, I'm sure you know how everything works but you know, new team, new things. So please shut your phone, hand me your ticket and enjoy the tour, ladies and ladies." A chuckle escaped you and Daniel had a broad smile on his face when he looked at you. You knew he tried to calm you down and you felt a tingling feeling in your belly, that hasn't been leaving you since he ran up to you earlier. You liked him from the beginning when he came in with this big smile of his. Yes, you knew him from watching the races and some interviews on TV but meeting him in real life has been something completely different.

You enjoyed his little tour and it actually calmed you down a lot. He showed you everything, from the car to all the computers and buttons. You knew them already but having him explaining everything and fooling around with you was fun and it took your mind off. The crew was giving you amused glances as they knew how Daniel was and you just shrugged your shoulders laughing.

"Thank you, Daniel." you smiled at him when he finished his tour. "Oh no problemo, but call me Dan, alright?" he said. Your smile got even bigger and you nodded.

"Alright. That was a really great tour by the best tour guide I've ever seen, to be honest." You joked and Daniel bowed.

"Sadly we must go now. We have some work to do, haven't we?" You said with a little smile, being much more relaxed as you were this morning. Thanks to Daniel. He smiled and gave you an approving nod.

"You've got this, Dan." you said to him via radio. The race was about to begin and Daniel was starting P5 after a good Qualifying. You were allowed to talk to him before and after the race on the radio. You didn't know why, as you were his performance coach and not his engineer but you liked it. And after the race, you would definitely ask Daniel about it.

"Thanks, Y/N/N." he said. You could feel your cheeks getting warm. Hopefully, no one noticed it, you thought and cupped your face with your hands to make sure no one could see your slightly red cheeks. He only used a nickname for you, nothing to freak out about, you thought.

Daniel had a great start, lost some positions throughout the race but he was able to get them back and finished the race as 4th. One position better than he started. You were proud of how much Daniel got out of his car. "Thank you guys." he said after crossing the finish line. "Great job Daniel, you did really good." his race engineer told him. "You did it! 4th is wonderful!

Congratulations!" you said excitedly. You could hear him chuckle, "Thanks Y/N/N! I had excellent support before the race from my performance coach." he said and you could almost hear his smile through the radio.

You were waiting for Daniel with a towel and a water bottle. As he came to you, you couldn't hold yourself back. You walked towards Daniel and wrapped your arms around him. "You did amazing." you said into his neck. When you realized what you've just done, you quickly stepped back, cleared your throat and gave him his towel and bottle. Daniel didn't seem to mind as he just smiled at you. "Thanks." he said and put his arm around your shoulders. "You were my lucky charm, you know." he grinned. You felt your cheeks getting hot.

Damn it, you thought.

"Hey Dan, how is it that I'm allowed to talk to you on the radio?" you asked him, better now than never. He looked down at you and a smile was forming on his face once again. "I told them to." he said with a grin and guided you back to the garage, his arm still around your shoulders.

This day has been crazy, you thought. And there were many more to come. Many more with crazy races but most importantly, many more with Daniel by your side.

༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.

Reblogs are always appreciated, they really make my day🧡

[jacs33]

The Bet Part 2

Words: 1.6k

Pairings: Pierre Gasly x Female Oc

Aurora did the not so smart thing by leaving the restaurant and going to the bar, unlike her original plans of going back to her room and eating her feelings in ice cream. Her, a broken heart, and alcohol have never mixed well, as she had a habit of drinking way too much, more than she normally did.

Which brought her stumbling to her godfathers hotel room almost black out drunk and crying. She was mad at herself for even crying over Pierre, as he didn’t deserve her tears.

No, he deserved her anger the most. Being the one to stand her up and then bring another girl to that same restaurant, knowing that she’d be there was a low blow.

Not only had he hurt her, but he also humiliated her tonight. Although she doubts the girl knew, or anyone for that matter. But it was still the fact that she found herself insanely happy for the date.

She felt something for Pierre, which doesn’t happen often for her.

It was hard for Aurora to love or to let people in as her own parents were in and out of her life, only appearing when they wanted something from her.

Relationships were the same story almost, boyfriends would always tell lies about loving her then going off to cheat on her, only wanting her around when there was something that involved having a plus one.

There was only one person that was a constant in her life, that was there through every heartbreak, rather from her parents or boyfriends.

Kimi Raikkonen treated his goddaughter as if she were his actual child, because to him she was, as he had raised her since she was one, after finding her alone in her crib while his best friend was out partying along with his wife.

So when he woke up to loud sobs outside his hotel door in the middle of night and found the sole person those sobs belonged to, he swore that he would hurt whoever caused them.

“Let’s get you inside.” He whispered while picking her up and bringing her into the room, kissing her head as she snuggled into his chest like when she was younger.

“I-it hurts uncle Kimi.” She sobbed into his chest, while he rubbed her back, getting into the bed and leaning his back against the headboard.

“What does Aurora? What happened?” He questioned softly.

“He stood me up.” She said, crying. “But that’s not all, he brought another date to the restaurant that he was supposed to be meeting me at.”

“Who, sweetheart?” He questioned, pissed, whoever he is would have to face him, how could someone be that heartless to stand someone up and take their next date to the same place, to rub it into an innocent girl's face.

“Pierre Gasly”

“Fucking asshole.” He grumbled. “Just get some sleep sweetheart, okay?”

“Okay, goodnight uncle Kimi.” She whispered, crawling into the other side of the bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

The next morning Pierre, Max, Daniel, Charles and Daniil were standing around outside Charles’s garage.

The other four wanted to know what exactly happened last night and to see if the bet was completed.

Which to them it was Pierre, one of the biggest fuck boys in the paddock, if anyone would’ve completed that bet, it would have been him, unless he fully liked the person.

Even then it was unlikely that he’s stay with them very long before getting bored with the relationship.

“So how did last night go?” Daniel was the first one to ask, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Easy, I stood her up.” Pierre shrugged. “I did it in a less easy way on her though.”

“Oh?” Max questioned.

“I just bought another date to the same restaurant five minutes later, my whole plan was to walk by her and rub it in her face but we ended up sitting by her.”

“How’d she take it?” Charles asked.

“Surprisingly well. I expected her to walk out in a crying mess but she just sat there and ate, didn’t even look over at us at all, didn’t even say anything either. She had the perfect opportunity to ruin my date but left it. It confused me honestly.”

“Weird.” Daniil said. “I would’ve punched you in her shoes.” He added with a chuckle.

“Guess she just didn’t care.” Pierre shrugged, watching Kimi walk in with a girl, before catching a glimpse of her. “Oh fuck.” He muttered.

He couldn’t believe that she was here right now, with the proclaimed Iceman of F1, he wasn’t supposed to see her again.

She was someone that was supposed to just disappear from his life like the others.

But now she's standing here in the place of his work, walking with the one guy no one wants to mess with, Kimi Raikkonen.

Daniel caught where he was looking at mumbles with a gulp. “Please tell me she is the one we bet on…”

Pierre found himself unable to reply and just nodded at his Australian friend.

“Fucking hell.” Daniel mumbled. “Kimi’s god daughter out of all people?!” He whispered yelled.

“Your the one that pointed her out.” He found himself also whispering harshly. “Why didn’t you tell me that she was Kimi’s god daughter!”

“Kimi has a god daughter?” Charles whispers.

“Yes, and why are you all freaking out about Aurora?” Sebastian said, appearing in the conversation after walking passed.

All the boys seemed panicked and worried about this and that itself worried the German.

“What did you do?” He added before anyone could speak, just having a gut feeling.

“Umm” Charles mumbled quietly.

“Tell me, because whatever it is, if Kimi finds out, you're all likely to be dead. He’s insanely protective of her as she’s had a rough past. So please just spit it out so I can decide whether my help is warranted or not.”

“We dared Pierre to sleep with a girl from the bar and then to take her out on a date the next night, only to stand her up when it came time for the actual date.” Daniil explained to Seb. “It was just supposed to be harmless.”

“Are you fucking serious?!”

“Look we didn’t know she was like a family member to a driver I swear. We just thought she was a random stranger.”

“Daniel should’ve known! He’s seen her around before.”

“I was drunk and couldn’t see straight, she also changed a lot from the last time I saw her.”

“Can we please just figure out how to get me to survive throughout the day? He looks ready to kill me.” Pierre whispers with a gulp now realizing that Kimi was indeed glaring at the group from his garage, with Aurora’s back turned away from them.

“Nope, you five are on your own, I’m not about to stand in his way for killing you Pierre. You don’t fuck with Aurora at all.” Seb told them while walking off towards the duo.

Pierre froze in his place when she turned to face Sebastian and hug him with a smile, it was then that he actually saw the effects of his actions.

While she was trying to be strong in front of everyone, not liking to show people that she’s not okay, he could see the puffy eyes and even the dull look that her beautiful eyes now show.

He never regretted his actions more than he does right now.

It wasn’t just because he might die at the hands of Kimi, but because he hurt the most gorgeous woman in the world just to win a stupid bet.

A bet that could have possibly ruined what could be the best thing in his life after the rough patch he was in these past few days.

And he had no idea how to fix it or if he even could.

But if taking a good beating from Kimi to make her happy or feel better, he'll take it without hesitation.

Because he deserves it after that, after hurting her like that.

“Yeah, we better run.” Max said cutting him out of his thoughts seeing Kimi storming their way after he had someone near Aurora to keep an eye on her.

While everyone nodded and ran off as fast as they could to their garages, Charles went to his drivers room to hide out, Pierre just stood there facing it head on.

In what could have been the second most stupid thing to do in one weekend.

“Pierre fucking Gasly.” Kimi growls out when he reaches him, caught the attention of those around them in the paddock.

“Hey, Kimi.” Pierre gulped. “How are you?”

“Shut it. I know what you did last night and it was fucked up.”

“Kimi, I feel guilty about it.”

“Bullshit, you wouldn’t have done it if you actually cared about Aurora.” Kimi glared at him. “You leave her alone, I haven’t seen her like that in awhile, and I refuse to let see her back to the way she was before because of a stupid fuck boy who can’t keep it in their pants and doesn’t care about their feelings.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t ask if you knew, this is the last thing you’ll do to her, I know about the bet, Sebastian filled me and her in on it. Come around her again and I’ll give you something to feel guilty about. Right now I’m not doing anything because she asked me not to, so you can thank her for protecting your ass for some reason.” He told the Frenchman with a deadly glare before walking off and back to his god daughter, leaving Pierre in a stunned silence.

Pierre couldn’t rack his brain over the fact that she basically protected him from the dangers of Kimi’s wrath, not that Kimi could also believe that he was following through with his goddaughter’s request.

[speedynana]

Fernando Alonso Renault

I don't know how to draw faces and hands so the only alternative in my head is to blur them

[fanfic-she-wrote]

The Handcuff Situation: Part 3

You and Renault sat quietly in his office waiting for the remainder of the day to pass by. Nobody really bothered you after you were discovered making out on the desk, much to your relief. Only when they did, Renault shooed them back out saying that you were ill. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, when in fact it had only been a few hours, you and Renault dragged yourselves to Rick’s.

You found him in the far corner of the cafe watching the patrons come and go as he played a game of chess by himself like he always did. “Well we’re here.” Renault said, announcing himself. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Of course.” Rick said getting up, taking his cigarette with him. “Follow me.” You followed him to a back room. It was dimly lit, but you figured it was a store room as several unopened containers lined the room. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He told you, leaving you and Renault alone.

“I wonder who it is?” You thought out loud. Louis just shrugged. “I don’t know…”

Through the darkness Rick and a second man emerged beside him. “You!” Renault gasped. “What are you doing here?” He asked the man. You stood there quietly. You didn’t know who he was but Louis obviously did. “I bailed him out.” Rick answered. “He’s the best lock picker in Casablanca.”

“He’s also a thief. He was caught stealing from The Blue Parrot yesterday.” Renault added.

“I told you, I took what was mine!”

Renault rolled his eyes, still not believing him. “Anyways, I thought you would need my help Captain.” The man spoke with a sly grin, “That’s why I asked for you earlier.” The man told him.

“Really? How did you know?” Renault asked, looking increasingly annoyed.

“I found this on the floor of my cell and knowing your reputation…let’s just say I was right.” He replied, holding up a key.

You looked over at your boyfriend and placed your hands on your hips, that twinge of jealousy returning. Renault gulped and awkwardly adjusted his tie.

“I was going to use this in exchange for my release, but then Rick showed up. This is even better. The prefect of police is under my control now.”

“Give me that!” Louis yelled reaching for the key, but the man avoided him.

“On one condition.”

“What?”

“You give me back what is mine.” He requested, staring Renault down.

“And what exactly is yours?” Rick asked curiously.

“The parrot outside Ferrari’s cafe. He’s mine. I’d like him back before I go to America.” The man answered. Rick snorted. The parrot? You couldn’t believe this guy. Even Renault found it difficult to suppress a smile. “Oh, yes of course. I’ll get your parrot back for you.” He agreed and with that the man handed him the key.

Louis held the key up and smiled. “Well, do it already!” You hurried him. You each lifted your cuffed wrist and quickly he unlocked you both. You let out a sigh once the pressure from the cuff was finally released from your wrist. “Thank you.” You said to Rick. “Anytime.” He said with a wink, leaving the room and taking the other man with him.

“Let’s not do that ever again.” You said, turning to Renault. “Are you sure? I could always handcuff you to the bed instead?” You laughed and gave him a slight push. “I’ll pass.” He groaned pretending to appear disappointed as he followed you out of the room. “Let’s go home.”

As you exited the room, Yvonne greeted you looking excited and smelling like booze. “Is it true?!” She asked. Renault’s heart skipped a beat. Did someone find out?

“Is what true?” You asked, looking confused. “Senor Ferrari said you didn’t come to Rick’s last night because you were ill. I heard that you followed Captain Renault to work. Is it true?” You stared at her, still confused.

“Well didn’t you just talk to the doctor?”

“Who?”

“He just walked out with Rick, Doctor Germain. Are you pregnant?” Yvonne finally asked. Renault couldn’t resist and burst out laughing. You bit your lip. “Oh no, no.” Renault denied. Slowly, you turned towards him. “Actually…” You began. He stopped laughing and looked down at you. “I meant to tell you last night but we had that…problem.” “You mean…you really…you’re pregnant?” Renault asked, a surprised look across his face. You nodded your head. “That’s wonderful!” He exclaimed picking you up and kissing you. Rick padded him on the back. “A round of drinks for everyone on me!” Renault said, making the entire cafe cheer.

This wasn’t the way you had intended on telling him, but honestly you wouldn’t have changed a thing.

The end

[natailiatulls07]

The Rapunzel to my Flynn Rider

Daniel Ricciardo x female!reader

Summary - What halloween looks like for Daniel and Y/n

Warning - None except a cuteness overload lol

A/n - First halloween post of 2023!! And also my first ever Danny fic, I don’t know why I haven’t done more I love him 🥰

The 23 Halloween Season

-

yourusername

Danny told me not to decorate the house whilst he was gone for a race weekend but I don’t listen sooo 🎃😁

Liked by landonorris and 48,392 others

username No cause this is the cutest autumn/halloween post EVER

danielricciardo I can’t tell you anything can I?

= yourusername Nope 😁

= danielricciardo You’re lucky I love you 🥰

username In Y/n we trust to give us the aesthetic!!

username Y/n not listening to Daniel is just a vibe, and I love it 😍

yourusername posted a story

daniel3.jpg

Autumn jpg dump 🍁

Tagged: yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 54,835 others

username I fucking love this jpg account!!

username Boyfriend Daniel is just my all time favourite 🤩

username Y/n and Daniel are the best couple ever!

lando.jpg Can you ask Y/n to save me some of her halloween gingerbread cookies???

= daniel3.jpg No, they’re mine and Y/n’s only

= yourusername Of course Lando 😊

= lando.jpg Thank you Y/n!!

username Excuse me but when can I get a relationship like this??? 🥺

yourusername

Any guesses on who decided this?? 😇😉

Tagged: danielricciardo

Liked by charles_leclerc and 55,727 others

username COUPLE GOALS

username The cutest couple’s costume ever!!

maxverstappen1 Daniel you’re looking smitten in that second pic 😏

username Jealous. Jealous. JEALOUS.

username Was it Daniel’s idea??

= yourusername Yep, though I don’t think he want to admit it lol ☺️

= danielricciardo SHUSH 🤫

danielricciardo The Rapunzel to my Flynn Rider 😘

= yourusername Always 🤍

-

Tag list - @ilovechickenwings @carlossainzwho @ipab @erikasurfer @soph1644

[quotessharry]

I need someone to put pen to the paper and write some filthy filthy smut about this picture, and tag me when you do

[joelslegalwhrereads]

I told them to

pairing ⁀➷ daniel ricciardo x reader

word count ⁀➷ 916 more or less

summary ⁀➷ You‘re Daniel‘s new performance coach, it‘s your first race with him, and you‘re allowed to talk to him on the radio before and after the race. Who allowed that though, is something you don‘t know yet…

warnings ⁀➷ maybe fluff (?), idek if this needs any warnings

a/n ⁀➷ as always, if I missed a warning please tell me! I‘ve written this years ago, I still like it, but it may differ from my more previous works.

What‘s better than a Daniel os to start posting f1 content on here?

You've met Daniel and the team last week to get to know them and there was really no reason to be scared. The team has welcomed you with open arms and you could feel, even after one meeting, that they would have your back if something happens. Nevertheless, your heart was beating faster than usual. 

"Y/N!" you heard a familiar voice call your name. It belonged to Daniel. He jogged to you and gave you a big smile. "Hey, good morning." you greeted him with a smile in return. You walked to the Renault hospitality and on the way, you and Daniel talked about the upcoming race but he could sense that you were nervous.

"C'mon, I'll show you around." he said and put his hand on your back to guide you to the garage. "So, I'm sure you know how everything works but you know, new team, new things. So please shut your phone, hand me your ticket and enjoy the tour, ladies and ladies." A chuckle escaped you and Daniel had a broad smile on his face when he looked at you. You knew he tried to calm you down and you felt a tingling feeling in your belly, that hasn't been leaving you since he ran up to you earlier. You liked him from the beginning when he came in with this big smile of his. Yes, you knew him from watching the races and some interviews on TV but meeting him in real life has been something completely different.

You enjoyed his little tour and it actually calmed you down a lot. He showed you everything, from the car to all the computers and buttons. You knew them already but having him explaining everything and fooling around with you was fun and it took your mind off. The crew was giving you amused glances as they knew how Daniel was and you just shrugged your shoulders laughing.

"Thank you, Daniel." you smiled at him when he finished his tour. "Oh no problemo, but call me Dan, Y/N." he said. Your smile got even bigger and you nodded. "Alright. That was a really great tour by the best tour guide I've ever seen, to be honest." You joked and Daniel bowed.

"Sadly we must go now. We have some work to do, haven't we?" You said with a little smile, being much more relaxed as you were this morning. Thanks to Daniel. He smiled and gave you an approving nod.

"You've got this, Dan." you said to him via radio. The race was about to begin and Daniel was starting P5 after a good Qualifying. You were allowed to talk to him before and after the race on the radio. You didn't know why, as you were his performance coach and not his engineer but you liked it. But after the race, you would definitely ask Daniel about it. 

"Thanks, Y/N/N." he said. You could feel your cheeks getting warm. Hopefully, no one noticed it, you thought and cupped your face with your hands to make sure no one could see your slightly red cheeks. He only used a nickname for you, nothing to freak out about, you thought.

Daniel had a great start, lost some positions throughout the race but he was able to get them back and finished the race as 4th. One position better than he started. You were proud of how much Daniel got out of his car. "Thank you guys." he said after crossing the finish line. "Great job Daniel, you did really good." his race engineer told him. "You did it! 4th is wonderful! Congratulations!" you said excitedly. You could hear him chuckle, "Thanks Y/N/N! I had excellent support before the race from my performance coach." he said and you could almost hear his smile through the radio.

You were waiting for Daniel with a towel and a water bottle. As he came to you, you couldn't hold yourself back. You walked towards Daniel and wrapped your arms around him. "You did amazing." you said into his neck. When you realized what you've just done, you quickly stepped back, cleared your throat and gave him his towel and bottle. Daniel didn't seem to mind as he just smiled at you. "Thanks." he said and put his arm around your shoulders. "You were my lucky charm, you know." he grinned. You felt your cheeks getting hot. Damn it, you thought. 

"Hey Dan, how is it that I'm allowed to talk to you on the radio?" you asked him, better now than never. He looked down at you and a smile was forming on his face once again. "I told them to." he said with a grin and guided you back to the garage, his arm still around your shoulders.

This day has been crazy, you thought. And there were many more to come. Many more with crazy races but most importantly, many more with Daniel by your side.

f1 masterlist

･ﾟﾟ･｡ Don’t copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.

[maddiericciardostroll]

this defffffiinitelllyyyy doesn’t have anyyyyythinngggggg to do with something i may or may not be writing based off a famous love triangle out of an album that rhymes with smolklore

[free-for-all-fics]

Captain Louis Renault Prompt! Partially inspired by Mr. Sunshine. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of this and I’d love to read it! 🤍🕵️‍♀️🖤

Your love of old films has been giving you black and white dreams lately, even though you’ve stopped watching them before bed. You accidentally fall asleep on a bus and, when you wake up, the black and white world has carried over. Everything is in grayscale as you find yourself on a train in the middle of Paris in 1942, while France is under the German jackboot. Well, not entirely. One small group of indomitable Frenchmen and Frenchwomen still hold out against the German invaders. The passengers on the train are segregated, with the wealthy in the extravagant front cars and the poor crammed into squalid tail compartments overseen by armed guards. You’re in a strange place of a foreign language, carrying a small bag with sparse supplies and wearing clothing that’s not yours. A plain wedding band adorns your hand, but you’re not married...are you? Someone sits next to you and you can’t believe it when you see a handsome man. You don’t know him, but feelings of love and familiarity suddenly wash over you. It’s almost overwhelming and you can do nothing but stare at him in stunned silence.

“Are you surprised that I caught you trying to leave me? Or are you pleased to see me? I wouldn’t let you leave without me, my dear.” The stranger teases you, saying you’re almost unrecognizable and he’s almost blinded by your beauty since you’re dressed like a woman for once.

For once? Have you usually dressed like a man? And, if so, what for? The stranger says that this mission’s top priority is the women and children must be sent away, as they’re the future. You’re traveling from Paris to Marseilles, which is just the beginning of the refugee trail to Casablanca. It’s said to be a city full of all kinds of characters, including refugees, smugglers, spies, and vultures looking to prey on them. There’s vultures everywhere! But it’s considered part of unoccupied France and neutral ground while under the jurisdiction of Vichy. It’s the shared hope of all these refugees that they can eventually obtain exit visas and board the plane to Lisbon and, from there, set sail on the clipper to America where they’ll be safe to begin their lives anew.

When you ask questions as if you don’t know what’s happening or where you are, the stranger tilts his head. His forehead creases and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion, as if you’re the one acting strange. He tells you that he’s your husband and that your hometown was overrun by the Occupation. They were rounding up people in droves and sending them to concentration camps with no explanation as to why. He saw great potential in you and recruited you as a spy for the French Resistance.

In Nazi-Occupied France, you met with your German "lover". When he finally allowed you a peek at the letters of transit he had come to possess, you confirmed the blank documents to be legit and not doctored or forged. While he was too distracted with trailing kisses up and down your neck and shoulders, you turned around, removed the pin from your hair and stabbed him through the neck with it. The blade was sharp enough to cut flesh as it posed no resistance. At once a fountain of red came from the wound, the ebb and flow in time with a terrified heart, killing the man all the faster. You stood watching as if you couldn’t hear his gurgles of pain, as if it were a silent theatre production of no importance. As he laid dying, you told him how much you were enjoying watching him die. You never moved at all until your mark was bled out. His red blood mingled with the beige carpet and gave it an earthy brown hue. Then you made a precise pivot turn and marched on, stealing the letters of transit as you made your escape. There was never even a spot of blood on your high polished boots.

Your escape was short-lived and you were later apprehended and arrested for your heinous crime but, by that point, you didn’t have the letters anymore. You already passed them off to your contact, Signor Ugarte, to be given back to you at a later time after you meet him in Casablanca. Your husband describes him as a small, thin man with a nervous air. He’s an unrepentant thief, assassin, and human trafficker, but he’s also an earnest and polite man that can be trusted to get the job done.

You had acted alone and your execution was scheduled for tonight but, through luck and quick thinking, your husband cleanly killed a guard, hid the body, and donned the dead man’s uniform. Apparently he’s a skilled liar and talented actor, so nobody batted an eye or questioned him as he just bailed you out and aided you in your escape. Young male rebels were assigned to steal German uniforms in order to infiltrate and board the train without interference. These men dressed in German uniforms facilitated the boarding process on the train. You and your husband disguised many rebels and refugees by giving them a change of wardrobe and, using the train tickets he recently purchased, you successfully snuck past the security checkpoints and got many rebels and refugees aboard this train, which is set for Marseilles. Your husband stayed behind with his group of associates and refugees that were under his charge while he let you and your group go ahead. He told you that he’d follow later, and charged you with doing anything and everything to maximize the safety of the passengers. 

He just now safely made it aboard with his group. So, here you are. You look back at your homeland, your beloved France, and wonder if you’ll ever return.

Everyone who knows you're a spy thinks you're an excellent one. You and your husband are the most successful spies in your division. Your husband is the classic suave, extroverted spy, which is merely used as a distraction so you, the introverted and quiet one, can sneak around and finish the jobs without interference. You both represent the hopes of everyone for a better future after World War II. But you've never had any sort of training and every one of your successes sound like they were just lucky accidents. You're not even sure who you work for! You don’t recall any of this. Not your allegiance to this group of Resistance fighters nor your marriage to one of its leaders, not the murder you committed, nor the subsequent jailbreak. It’s like you’ve been thrown in the middle of the story, in the brunt of the action, completely blind. The main thing is, you don't speak French. You’re not sure if you’re just experiencing a very vivid lucid dream or if any of this is indeed real, but it’s probably best to play along for now until you either wake up or find a way to return home to your normal reality. And there’s a part of you that’s curious as to how this’ll play out.

Your husband doesn’t divulge his or anyone’s name. No real names. Code names only, if even that. What they’re doing is highly illegal and extremely dangerous, and it works better for him, you, and everyone else involved if things are kept impersonal. It minimizes the risk of names of comrades and co-conspirators being betrayed to the Germans in case of capture. If you were brought to an interrogation cell, the Nazis would imprison you, torture you, and, in all probability, kill you in the pursuit of finding and crushing the Resistance. The rebels have been busy supplying weapons, supplying money, organizing teams of men and women, organizing escapes from prison camps, and more. They’ve been in France, blowing up bridges, blowing up train lines, cutting telephone lines. But it was very dangerous the whole time because the Germans were looking for you. They still are. You’re causing so much trouble for them, so it’s no surprise the Nazis want everyone involved dead. He outlines your journey to Casablanca and notes it’ll be difficult, even torturous. Ugarte will meet you at the end of the journey, at a place called Rick’s Café Américain.

He then shows you a photograph of a man. The photograph was clearly taken without the subject’s knowledge, but you can clearly see his face and profile. All his physical information is listed below, though reading that his eyes are brown or his hair is brown and graying does little to help you since you can’t see color. Captain Louis Renault is the corrupt Prefect of Police, noted to have a weakness for beautiful young women. Beautiful young women like you. As the Resistance’s foremost pickpocket, your current assignment is to find this Captain Louis Renault, worm your way into his life, and steal his heart (not literally). It’ll be tricky and extremely difficult since Renault’s heart is his least vulnerable spot. He’s your primary target and you need to get as close to him as possible through any means necessary, including sleeping with him if the situation calls for it. Whether it’s to obtain exit visas for refugees and rebels, to obtain valuable intel regarding your enemies to gain an advantage in the war, or for some other ulterior goal, you mustn’t blow your cover. And then—

Before your husband can continue debriefing you, a German solider suddenly declares rebels are on the train and orders the train delayed and all passengers searched. The young Frenchmen dressed in German uniforms tell you things may be going awry and you must work together to force the train to move before reinforcements arrive. The German soldiers search all passengers as they look for you, their recent death row escapee. Your husband tells you to sit quietly but look in your bag. He’s left you a gift.

You have a pistol, which you discreetly grip inside your bag. You’re armed and ready in case of trouble. How did your husband sneak this through? Well, it’s one of two guns he smuggled on the train by chatting up a rich man who was also looking to board. He told a little white lie and claimed that they had a mutual friend - the Nazi that was murdered. The rich man informed him that the Nazi was killed and that he ordered the German soldiers to capture any and all rebels aboard the train. Your husband walked toward the checkpoint and explained he was getting on the train to follow you, the woman he loves, though he didn’t mention you by name. He followed closely behind the man and they both walked through the checkpoint without interference from the Germans.

Back in the present moment, your comrades in German uniforms cover you so you can make your way to the front of the train without rousing suspicions. You and another rebel hold the engineer at gunpoint, threatening him to get the train moving. Fearing death, he has no no other choice and does as he’s told. While you leave, the uniformed rebel closes the door behind you and stays with the engineer to make sure he keeps the train moving and that there’ll be no further interruptions from the actual Germans. When you return to your seat without being spotted, your husband tells you that you did excellently getting the train going and, in response, you tell him you’re the wife of an excellent Frenchman. The declaration warms his heart. He asks you to endure a little longer until you reach the tunnel. He asks you not to cry. He says,

“This is my history and my love story. That’s why I’m going. I pray for your success.”

He spies the German soldiers in the next car and pulls out his pistol, loading a single bullet into the chamber. He tells you that he must head to the first class. You grab his hand, asking what he’s doing with only a single bullet. He stares into your eyes and you stare back as he promises he’ll use the bullet wisely. You both stare at your entwined hands as your wedding bands glint in the light. He gets up and walks away. You’re left to stare after him, knowing it could be the last time you see him. One of the rebels in a German uniform tries to stand in front of you to obscure you from sight of an actual German soldier.

The German soldier asks questions the rebel can’t answer, which raises his suspicions. He shoves the rebel out of the way and immediately recognizes you. But before he can alert his men, you pull out your concealed pistol and shoot him dead. There’s a shootout as you and the armed rebels fire at the Germans while the unarmed refugees try to duck for cover. You manage to kill a few German soldiers, but they manage to kill a few of your guys as well. Things don’t look good as you’re outnumbered and they have you pinned down in a corner. They’re about to kill you.

Meanwhile, your husband returns to the rich man’s first class compartment, declaring he must save you, the woman he loves. He asks again who killed the Nazi officer, and the rich man tells him again that it was rebels. Your husband pulls his pistol and aims it at the shocked rich man. He corrects him, saying it wasn’t rebels, it was he who killed the Nazi officer. He holds the man at gunpoint, using him as a human shield as he walks through the train cars. His fist is clenched around the back of the rich man’s collar, his gun pointed at the back of the man’s head.

The Germans are suddenly frozen, unable to do anything out of fear your husband will kill this man who’s a very prominent figure and important to them and their regime. You stand behind your husband with your gun also pointed at the Germans. It’s been emptied from the previous shootout and you have no extra ammo, but they don’t know that. As you near the tunnel, your husband holds his tears at bay and turns his head to glance back at you. He tells you,

“Continue to go forward as I take a step back.”

He gives you one last smile and yells at the rebel soldiers to move forward as he releases his hostage. Once they enter the next train car, your husband points his gun at the coupler of the two train cars. Realizing what he’s doing, you run to the end of the train car, but your husband has already used his single bullet to shoot the connector between the two cars. It’s a perfect shot. The cars separate, with you in the car holding all the rebels and refugees, and your husband in the car holding all the German soldiers. You scream and watch your husband watching you from the doorway as the cars pull away from each other. The distance between you is a chasm between life and death. You cry for your husband as he falls victim to the gunshots of the German soldiers behind him. Everything is moving in slow motion as his body is riddled with bullets. As red seeps through your husband’s shirt, it also seeps into your black and white world. What had once been a blank canvas only moments before becomes painted in a way that threatens to haunt you. It’s the first color you see. It’s the red of wedding carnations, a pop of color in the gray. Love is a strong emotion that can cause pain. And red isn’t always love, it represents death. Loss. Everything wrong about the world.

He begins to slump to the ground, but still tries to hold on to the doorframe for as long as he can, his body acting as a shield that prevents the Germans from getting to you. As the train continues to separate from his car, you let out an anguished scream of his name despite not knowing it before. The train exits the tunnel and you crumble. While you’ve gotten away, your husband’s train car eventually reaches the end of the tunnel and slows to a complete stop. He’s covered in blood and bullet holes.

The blood doesn’t gush in a constant flow, but in time with the beating of his heart. At first it comes thick and strong, flowing through his fingers as they clasp his punctured flesh. The blood leaves the artery to which it once belonged in surges until it becomes a steady trickle, beat out by a slowing heart. He feels the blood move over his hand, the thick fluid no warmer or cooler than his own skin. After a few moments the blood is still leaving his rapidly paling flesh, but the pulses are slower, weaker. He looks to the sky as he finally falls and hits the ground, his blood still dripping between his fingers and oozing under his hand, staining his wedding ring.

It had all been so suicidal, this attempt at a rescue... but if he didn’t try, then who was he? Where was his hero heart? He could’ve died safe and warm many years from now, cozy in a bed and surrounded by his loved ones. Yet, even in those last moments, he was proud to have tried. Even though you aren’t around to hear him, he tells you that you were the woman he loved. He says goodbye. He dies.

You continue where your husband left off and step up as a new leader of the French Resistance. Your husband gave you a mission before he died, and you’re determined to see it through. As you travel from Marseilles, across the Mediterranean to Oran, and then across the rim of Africa, you continue the harrowing journey to Casablanca, all while training the rebels and teaching the refugees everything you know and more along the way. It’s imperative that they have all the skills and street smarts they’ll need. Upon arrival, everyone, including you, will need to survive on their own until they can obtain exit visas.

You warn that, even with exit visas, there are still ways that travelers can be hindered from leaving and held in Casablanca in spite of their legal rights. While Casablanca is neutral ground so long as it’s under the jurisdiction of Vichy and considered unoccupied France, there will still be German soldiers stationed there. And they will all be loyal to Hitler and his regime. You tell everyone to proceed with extreme caution and to not engage with the Germans or even the French police at all if it can be helped. The French police are led by Captain Renault, a corrupt official. So it’s safe to say everyone working in his administration is corrupt.

You reiterate to everyone that they cannot let the French police nor the Germans suspect anything. They could arrest any of you without proof and hold you on a petty charge for no reason at all other than it artificially makes their administration look more effective. If the Germans or gendarmes can’t find any reason to arrest or hold someone, they’ll just make something up and issue a false report if it serves their self-interest, so don’t be foolish enough to actually give them one. Don’t speak to them, don’t eat or drink with them, and especially don’t fight with them. No matter what the Nazis may say or do, don’t let them provoke you. You tell everyone that they must remain invisible while in Casablanca. You emphasize that you are all to keep to yourselves and your own families. Once you step foot in the desert, you are all to act as strangers to each other. Trust no one. This is for the safety of everyone. Everyone knows you still have your mission, but they know your getting intimately close to Captain Renault is a necessary risk you’re taking so that you may pave a better future for all of them and yourself. As their leader, they trust in you and believe in you to succeed.

When you finally make it, Casablanca is exactly what your husband said it would be. But hearing about a place and actually living there are two very different experiences, and it takes some getting used to. Corruption runs rampant within the police as innocent people, referred to as the usual suspects, and beautiful women get rounded up indiscriminately. The latter are extorted by Captain Renault for sexual favors in exchange for exit visas while the former are either falsely arrested and imprisoned or shot to death in broad daylight if they attempt to flee.

The corrupt officials often turn a blind eye to and even participate in underhanded or illicit activities such as gambling and dealings on the black market. More refugees wait in line outside the Palais de Justice, their upturned gazes following the flight of the plane to Lisbon. In their faces is revealed one hope they all have in common, and the plane is the symbol of that hope. This is where you must say goodbye and part ways with your comrades and co-conspirators, but just for now. Despite not knowing a word of the language mere moments ago, you’re inexplicably able to say in near perfect French,

“Those were the glory days. Each of us were a flame. We burned brightly for a short burst. We will ignite the embers. My French isn’t much better so my goodbye is short. Goodbye, my comrades. When our country is free once more, I’ll see you again.”

While scoping out Rick’s Café Américain, your eyes scan the place. As you blend in and converse with other customers and sit at a gambling table or at the bar, you track Captain Renault’s movements out of the corner of your eye, subtly watching him to learn more about his habits and personality. You learn that Signor Ugarte is dead and that the searching of his body yielded no results. If they didn’t recover the letters from his person, then he must’ve hid them away or entrusted them to someone. He wouldn’t just lose them or hand them off so carelessly. While operating undercover, you gather juicy and valuable intel to help the French Resistance. You utilize different methods and skills besides your expert eavesdropping and stealth.

You’re a master of setting bait, two methods of which are infallibly effective and always get bites. For women, you approach under the guise of sharing inconsequential but intriguing pieces of gossip over coffee or while out shopping. If there’s anything bored wives love to do, it’s talking and spreading rumors about others. For men, you use your womanly wiles to your advantage and it’s incredible how loose men’s lips become during pillow talk. To them, you’re just a pretty ornament, a decoration to sit next to them or hang on their arm. They always fall for it hook, line, and sinker. You may seem like little more than a lonely widow or a bed warmer but, unbeknownst to any of them, you have a memory like a steel trap. You’ve been sleuthing and assembling a dossier which you expertly hide in your room, gradually working your way up to Captain Renault himself.

The only problem is once you have his heart, you find it's broken. But not in the way you expect. Captain Renault has just discovered that his “girlfriend”, Yvonne, is having an affair. But he isn’t upset about it in the slightest. He tolerates it as he has grown tired of her and their relationship was wide open anyway. He never made any promises to her that he’d be monogamous. His appetite for beautiful women is so insatiable that he’d never settle for her or just any woman. But you’re not just any woman. You’ve become so much more to him than just another bed warmer or one night stand. Yes, sexual tension still runs high between you even if it’s far from the first time you’ve slept together. Adrenaline still courses through your veins and you both need to release this pent up energy somehow. And there’s no better, more pleasurable way than sex.

Before you know it, you’re several months into a stable, healthy relationship with Captain Renault. You didn’t intend to lose sight of your mission, you really didn’t. But it’s like you fell slowly then suddenly all at once. You didn’t have time to catch yourself as you landed in his bed, your fall cushioned by his soft mattress and firm body. He insists you call him Louis now, though he may admit with a playful quality to his voice that he likes it when call him Captain in the bedroom. You’ve succeeded in your mission and have somehow tricked him into signing multiple exit visas.

Unbeknownst to you, Louis has always been aware of what you’ve been trying to do and has only let you think you’re manipulating him because what you’re doing lines up with his own motives, though in a rather zigzagged way. The truth is, Major Strasser has a dossier on you and what you did in the past, but you’ve refused to give him any of the names of your accomplices or the people who were on board the train with you. You thought ahead and trained your fellow rebels on using fake identities, which included new names and backgrounds, until they had it all memorized. But it wasn’t enough for them to just know it backwards and forwards from memory. You made your training most effective by conducting mock interrogations and acted the role of a Nazi, grilling them with questions about anything and everything. Their father’s name, their mother’s occupation, where and when were they born, etc. until they could answer with conviction and not break under duress. You made sure they got everything right, even down to the proper pronunciation of places or names. There had to be no room left for doubt.

Without your cooperation, Strasser had nothing. No matter how long he persisted, he wouldn’t get answers out of you by asking you questions directly, so he ordered Captain Renault to seduce and get information out of you. Louis has familiarized himself with your record, but he holds no love for the Nazis and never goes all that far out of his way to help them out. In fact, he’s been quietly sabotaging Strasser’s agenda despite the man being his superior. He agrees to do whatever will help maintain his cushy position and is fine with his normally extremely controversial behavior of opportunism, but only out of self-interest. He’s been obliging you and filling out the exit visas because not only does allowing the French rebels and refugees to board the plane to Lisbon and escape to America further sabotage Strasser’s agenda by putting a major dent in the Nazis’ plan of recapturing them and sending them to concentration camps to be tortured and executed, he’s fallen in love with you too.

White is the color of neutrality. No matter how you sliced it, Captain Louis Renault didn’t support either side in the war more or less than the other. He was an opportunist who supported whichever side benefitted him the most, susceptible to flipping at any given time. He held no conviction. He often blew with the wind, and the prevailing wind happened to be from Vichy. So long as he was Prefect of Police, any violation of neutrality would reflect on him. He deliberately tried to stay out of the conflict. Until he met you.

You and Louis always suspected that there was some ulterior motive behind why the two of you got together but, even so, neither of you are entirely sure of what the other knows. If there’s one thing you’re both good at, it’s keeping secrets. But during one of your private dinner dates at his apartment, he throws out his bottle of Vichy water and kicks the waste basket to the side. He opens a bottle of Veuve Cliquot ‘26, a good French wine, instead. It’s such a subtle change that you don’t notice it right away but, as you watch him pour you a glass, Louis’ uniform isn’t white. It’s ivory.

After another blissful night spent together that culminates with you making love, you trace patterns on Louis’ skin as you pose a hypothetical about just packing up everything you own and running away together. You’re not sure where you’d go, but as long as you and Louis were together, you were sure you could figure it out as you went along. You just want to get in the car and drive, get as far away from Casablanca as your car will take you. You want to travel, see the world outside of this desert. Louis tells you that your question of leaving doesn’t have to be a hypothetical. He can be your ticket to get out of here. You can start anew somewhere else, together. There’s a Free French garrison over in Brazzaville and he may be induced to secure a passage. For a price, he adds, as he raises his eyebrows and smiles at you suggestively, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. He really is insatiable- wait.

Brown. Not dark gray. Brown. Yes, you had read his eyes were brown in the report your late husband gave you, but actually seeing the change occur in his eyes in real time and so up close is different. The dark gray melts away and swirls around in his irises, making room for this new color. It’s a very beautiful color, very rich in tone and full of earthiness. As you stare into his brown eyes, you think about how they are a million hues of orange, red, yellow, and black all mixed wonderfully together to create this unique shade. As always in nature, it’s so very many hues you feel and sense so much more strongly without words.

You wonder what the word "brown" even means. Is it the forest and the autumnal leaves? The soil in summer and after the rains? His eyes remind you of the brown of earth, of the nurturing soils, and of the textured skin of the trees that grow with the variation of finger prints. In his brown eyes is the warmth of an everlasting hearth, as if they’re the wood that could burn with golden flame yet be forever perfectly whole. They’re hues of comforting childhood memories, as sweet as chocolate and as sturdy as the oak of a tree. It’s the sort of brown that brings your thoughts to comfort, yet have the bright flecks of rosy hope. But how can you ever reduce something so spellbinding to one word, one metaphor, when the colors invite you to marvel in their simplicity. In those earthy hues is his soul, not in the way of those cheesy romance novels, so obsessed with lust, but with the kind of beauty that expands a moment into a personal eternity, a heaven you wish to be a part of.

His hair is a much lighter shade of brown, streaked with strands of silver. You comb your fingers through it and tug on it, as if warning him to behave. You’re quick to wipe that cocky smirk off his face as you kiss him with renewed fervor. You climb on top of him and he, at first, places his hands on your breasts, massaging and squeezing them. But you slap his hands away and tell him no. This time you’re in control, so you tell Louis to be good and not to move his hands from where you put them. You’re going to drive him crazy, then stop, then do it all over again until he begs you to finish this. Even then, you won't. You’re just going to do every naughty thing to him you can think of until your mind and body explode.

You move his hands down to your hips, using them to steady yourself as you place your hands on his chest and rock back and forth, slowly at first and then gradually picking up speed. He’s going to give you a ride in his car tomorrow, but tonight he’s going to give you a very different kind of ride. You let the colors sit in your intuition and bring that surging joy only the simple pleasures of flesh, of life, can bring so fully. As you go faster and he starts to lose his composure, his hands slip down from your hips as he smacks your thighs and your butt. But you’re both too tightly wound with pleasure to notice. It keeps building, and building, and building, until you can’t hold it in anymore. The coil is about to snap at any moment. And when it does, it’ll explode and you’ll see patterns of colors. As if your eyes are looking through the lens of a kaleidoscope.

When Louis wakes up the next morning, the bed is cold. Once the grogginess from last night’s sleep has worn off and he wipes the sleep dust from underneath his eyes, he notices that the apartment is empty, completely bare and perfectly neat - besides the bed, of course. It’s as if you’d never lived here at all. You’re not here either. Where are you? Did he misunderstand? He thought he was going to drive you out of Casablanca and go to Brazzaville with you. Did you change your mind? If you don’t want to go to Brazzaville, that’s okay with him. He’d go anywhere with you. Even if it was just you and him and the open road, and you had no destination in mind, he’d be happy because he’d be spending his life with you. He has a very important question he wants to ask you, but you’re not anywhere to be found and you left no note. He quickly gets dressed and gets back in his car. He drives around the city looking for you, even stopping to ask passerby if they’ve seen you.

When he does find you, you’re sitting alone on a bench. You look to be deep in thought. You apologize to Louis for worrying him and explain that you had to get away to think. You were biding your time so he didn’t get suspicious. But in doing so, you’ve not only stolen his heart, which is far more valuable to you now than money or information, you’ve run away with it too. While you know what you’ve been doing is unselfish and for a good cause, you regret your actions. You feel dirty for manipulating and using Louis the way you have been because you truly love him. He’s holding a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, a rarity in the desert of Casablanca. Hardly anything grows here so, when he saw them in the market while searching for you, he thought you’d like them and bought them for you. It might even be the first time that he’s ever actually bought anything, come to think of it. The flowers are in full bloom and are a variety of colors. Yellow, purple, green, orange, and blue. They’re so beautiful. It’s truly the most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen. You love them but, as much as you want to, you can’t accept them.

“My dear, there's something I want to ask you. The sooner I do it, the better.”

“Louis, before you say anything, I... I can't see you anymore.”

“You're joking.”

“I was never more serious.”

“Why? My dear, I thought you cared. I thought you loved me.”

“I do. Well, that is, I like you as a friend. I realized today it would be unfair, unkind to raise false hopes on your part, especially since I always intend to remain true to my husband's memory. And then, too, we might be giving scandal to others with our close association.”

“What are you talking about? What scandal? My darling, I came here to ask you...”

You know exactly what he came here to ask you, which makes this all the more painful. You need to stop him before he completes his train of thought, lest your resolve breaks entirely and you burst into tears in front of him. You can’t lose your nerve and give into your heart now. It should’ve never gotten this far in the first place. Louis looks at you as if you’ve become a completely different person than the one he’s known all this time. He’s so lost and confused by your strange and unusual behavior. What’s gotten into you? You know how this must look to him. He’s staring at you as if you’re talking utter nonsense.

“Captain, I think you better go now. I would rather be alone.”

“You can't mean that.”

“I do. Goodbye, Captain Renault.”

If he won’t leave, you’ll leave instead. Not just for the sake of your former comrades and yourself, but for his as well. You want to stay here with him, you really do, but you don’t think you can. You want so badly to tell him the truth, but there’s so many reasons why you just can’t. How would you even begin to explain that you don’t belong here and are from the future, or that this may all just be a lucid dream you’ll be waking up from soon? That none of this is real and is just a figment of your imagination, including him. That the line between illusion and dream and truth and reality has become so blurred that you’re not sure what to believe anymore. That you’re scared more than anything of whatever the answer will be. This black and white dream is quickly transforming itself into a nightmare and you’re afraid it may only get worse if you don’t try to get out. You need to wake up or escape, and you need to do it now.

But Louis is in too deep by this point, just like you are. There’s no going back now, and he won’t let you get away that easily.

In your desperation to escape and his desperation to keep you by his side, you hold each other at gunpoint and threaten to shoot. You hesitate. Louis hesitates. You stand there in a deadlock, neither of you daring to move a muscle. You both notice that neither of you actually have your finger on the trigger. You and Louis step closer together until you’re right in front of the other’s gun. Your guns are pressed point blank up against each other’s chests. As if to say,

"All right, I'll make it easier for you. Go ahead and shoot. You'll be doing me a favor."

But you both know that the other is really saying,

"If you're the person I know and love, you won't shoot me. But if you will, then I have no desire to live."

You don’t shoot. Neither does Louis. Your intentions, or lack thereof in this case, are revealed. Neither of you can pull the trigger, so you slowly lower and put away your guns. Louis questions you about your past, including your secret marriage. You never told him you were married, nor that you were widowed less than a year ago. You never even mentioned your husband’s name to him before a few moments ago when you tried to end things. He never saw a ring because you wore it on a chain around your neck and always kept it hidden under your clothes, or you took it off and hid it whenever you were making love or otherwise nude.

“Why weren’t you honest with me? Why did you keep your marriage a secret?”

“It wasn’t my secret. He wanted it that way. Not even our closest friends knew about our marriage. That was his way of protecting me. I knew so much about his work. If the Gestapo found out I was his wife it would be dangerous for me and for those working with us.”

“You were part of his work, the thing that kept him going. In a way, you’re still a part of his work and carrying on even after his death.”

You were supposed to be finding your way back home...but in your heart, you feel you’re already there. You step forwards and the two of you share a kiss. But suddenly and inexplicably, you start to fade away, much to your and Louis’ horror. Louis tries to grab your hand, but his passes right through yours. He calls out your name frantically, trying to hold onto you. But he can’t grab you because you’re becoming transparent, intangible, no longer there.

“Louis… I feel so strange. What’s happening to me? Louis…help me…Louis…Louis!” Your voice drifts away like an echo, becoming quieter and quieter until it disappears entirely, much like your body does. Until Louis is left standing alone.

“No! Don’t go! Please, don’t go... I love you.” His anguished declaration of love comes too late. You’re gone.

You’re not sure how, when, or why, but you find yourself back on the train. You watch as it slowly turns back into a bus. The bus you fell asleep on. The black and white world slowly melts away like an oil painting as pops of color bleed through before taking over completely once again. The people around you change as the dresses and suits become t-shirts and jeans, newspapers and books become phones and tablets, and some passengers’ hair turns into bright, abnormal colors, their once clear skin now decorated with tattoos and facial piercings. It’s present day again and everyone you knew in Casablanca is gone. When you check the time on your phone, only about twenty minutes have passed. It was all a dream? But it felt so real. You’re startled by the sound of your ringtone. You clumsily reach for your phone, fumbling and nearly dropping it on the ground in your attempts to hit the answer button.

It’s your family calling to ask where you are and if you’re still planning on attending like you promised. It’s your cousin’s wedding and they wanted you to be there so badly that they’ve reminded you of the date and time of their special day more than once. While your family has been there since the morning to help set up the venue, the wedding isn’t until the evening. You have plenty of time to prepare and get ready since you’re not actually in the wedding and are just attending as a guest. You assure your family on the other end of the line that you’ll be there and won’t miss it for the world, you just have to run some errands and pick up a few things first.

While you’re out running errands and getting ready for your cousin’s big day, you can’t stop thinking about your dream. What you just experienced felt lIke an entire lifetime passed, but it had only been less than an hour. That’s messing with your brain so badly that you still can’t wrap your head around it. The transition between realities was so smooth and so seamless that you almost didn’t notice you had already woken up.

It was a beautiful ceremony. At the wedding reception you’re introduced to a handsome gentleman, a dear friend and work colleague of your uncle. They’ve been discussing a few investment opportunities, but they just coincidentally ran into each other and got to talking, so your uncle invited him to attend the wedding. He’s also taken the liberty of inviting him to stay for dinner. There’s plenty of food and alcohol to go around, so your cousin and their new spouse can spare an extra placement. But you’re taken aback because this man is the spitting image of Captain Louis Renault. And, in his hands, he’s holding the same bouquet of wildflowers. Except now they’re dried, their beauty permanently preserved. They’ll never wilt and die. Much like his love for you. He smiles at you and gives you the bouquet before he kisses your hand.

“I’m very happy to... meet you.”

Your uncle walks away, dragging the children away from the wedding cake and gifts. He shoos them out of the ballroom despite their protests. All of the other wedding guests surrounding you melt away until it’s just the two of you in the world. You and Louis’ doppelgänger join hands. You smile up at him, admiring how he looks just as handsome in color as he did in black and white, if not more so. Even if he goes by a different name here and has a different occupation, you recognize him as truly being Captain Louis Renault. Your Louis. You remember him and he remembers you.

“Are you surprised that I caught you trying to leave me? Or are you pleased to see me? I wouldn’t let you leave without me, my dear.”

You set down the bouquet on one of the tables. You want to enjoy this moment, but there’s one question still on your mind. “Whatever happened to those letters of transit that I gave to Signor Ugarte?”

He smiles at you and fills in the blanks, telling you everything that happened after you disappeared. “Do you remember my American friend, Rick Blaine? Well, it turned out that Ugarte handed the letters of transit off to Rick a matter of minutes before he was arrested and killed. And right in the middle of his saloon was Sam's piano. He hid the letters of transit there and, despite the thorough search the Germans conducted, they never found them. That was lucky. You see, Rick was in love with a woman named Ilsa Lund, but could see quite well how she adored her husband, Victor Laszlo, a man wanted for escaping from a concentration camp. As Rick had the letters of transit, he was ultimately the only one who could make the decision. All of the above considered, he could abandon Victor, take Ilsa away, and everyone would get something they want, at the sacrifice of Victor's life and his fight against the Nazis. His gun was pointed straight at my heart, and I knew he wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger if he had to.”

He pauses while relaying his story because he can see in your eyes that you’re afraid. Not of anything, but afraid for him. As if expecting to find a bullet hole, bleeding wound, or a scar somewhere underneath his clothing. It’s subtle, but he’s perceptive enough to notice the way your eyes flicker down, the way your hands rest over his chest and clutch his shirt just a little bit tighter before you release your grip and smooth out the wrinkles you created. He assuages your fears with a quick kiss and grabs both of your hands in his own, holding them to his chest as he kisses them too. “Do not fret, my love. I was unharmed. May I continue?”

You nod and let out a breath, a small sigh of relief you weren’t aware you were even holding in.

“He forced me to countersign the letters of transit. Somehow, Strasser intercepted the phone call I made to the airport and learned of their plans. He arrived at the airport just as the plane door closed and the aircraft started down the runway, with Ilsa and Victor Laszlo on board. Also lucky. There were quite a bit of close calls like that throughout the whole ordeal. And even afterwards, there was quite a bit of tension up until the last minute about whether the plane would be allowed to leave Casablanca or not. Rick decided to shoot Major Strasser and run off to join the Free French, leaving Victor and Ilsa to escape together and carry on the fight. Before the plane left, Strasser was dead and I was sympathetic. The realization that I wasn’t truly master of my fate, at least as long as the Nazis had anything to say about it, might have been what motivated my sudden change of heart. But all I could think about, as Rick and I walked off into the fog and an uncertain future, was you, my darling. I wanted so terribly to get back home, to get back to you. The fog slowly dissipated and Rick was gone, but I just kept walking forward. The next thing I knew, I woke up at home on my couch, my alarm clock telling me I had to get ready for work. I thought about you all day. I wondered where you disappeared to, were you okay, were you thinking of me, did you even remember me at all, were you even real? And then, after my shift was over, I ran into a work colleague. He invited me to his child’s wedding and, well, here I am. Here we are. I had no idea he was your uncle until he introduced us. But when I saw you, it was like… like everything fell perfectly into place.” He holds out his hand to you. “May I have this dance, my darling?”

“I couldn’t say no… Captain.” You smirk at him, fully aware of the effect you have on him when you call him that. You swear he nearly growls at you as he leads you to a free space on the dance floor. He warns you that he knows exactly what you’re doing and that, if you don’t behave, he may have to sequester the both of you in an empty coat closet or dressing room somewhere. You slow dance to the romantic music that’s playing. You rest your head on his chest and close your eyes as you slowly sway and spin. When he notices you’re staring up at him, he turns his head to look at you and kisses your forehead.

“I'm yours, aren't I?”

“If it isn't too good to be true.”

You remove your head from his chest to stand up straight and look into his eyes properly. You place your arms around his neck. “Oh. Of course, if you- if you need to be convinced, if you want everything signed and sealed, we could... Don't you think we could be married?”

“At once. The first day we can. Is there any objection?”

“Well, don't you think we really ought to get to know each other all over again?” You step back and hold out your hand for him to shake. “How do you do, Mr. Renault? Or do you go by a different name here?”

You laugh together as you play along and shake hands. Maybe soulmates is too corny of a word to describe the two of you, but you can’t think of a better one. Him knowing your uncle, your uncle running into him in the street and inviting him to your cousin’s wedding that they insisted you also attend, seeing him here, finding him again… It all feels like a series of coincidences have conveniently aligned perfectly to get you both here. Maybe your souls are entwined as closely as your bodies were. God, thinking about it makes your face heat up in embarrassment. But you know now that, no matter where you go, even if you’re worlds apart, you’ll always find your way back to each other.