𝓯𝓬 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓪 | 𝓶𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓷 | 𝓹𝓪𝓾 𝓬𝓾𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓲
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this is so 🥹🥹🥹
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https://www.instagram.com/reel/DG0-MJZzwRn/?igsh=MW5rbTQ4dGRocWF3cw==
best edit i've seen in a while
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comfort
pairings: ollie bear man x reader
summary: comforting ollie after a tough race <3
warnings: angst, sad ollie
the race had ended hours ago, but the silence in the apartment still hung heavy, like the air after a storm. you’d been pacing for what felt like an eternity, unsure of what to do with yourself. ollie’s race hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped, and the weekend had been nothing short of a nightmare. the tension in the air was thick, like a fog that wouldn’t lift, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
you’d seen it all from the garage. the radio calls, the quiet struggles, the small mistakes that had snowballed. a lock-up here, a missed turn there, and suddenly he was out of the points. you’d watched him try so hard to push through the frustration, but it was clear he wasn’t himself. when he came back to the pit, there was no smile. no laugh to brush it off. he just nodded when the engineer asked if he was okay, but his eyes told a different story.
the media had been relentless. the usual questions — what went wrong? do you think this will affect your seat next year? ollie had smiled, said all the right things, but you knew him too well. the way his shoulders were slumped, the way he clenched his jaw, the way his eyes never quite reached yours. it wasn’t just the race he was battling. it was something deeper. something that had cracked a little more with every lap.
when he finally walked through the door, he was a shell of himself. ollie was usually the one who found a way to lighten the mood after a bad race. but tonight, he was different. his movements were slow, almost mechanical. the clink of his helmet bag against the floor echoed in the otherwise quiet apartment, but he didn’t speak. he didn’t even look at you.
he kicked off his shoes with a heaviness that made your heart ache, then dropped his gear bag beside the door, standing there in silence. his eyes were on the floor, his back rigid. you could feel the tension in the room, the kind that weighed you down with a crushing pressure.
“ollie?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stepped toward him.
he looked up at you for just a moment, and in that brief glance, you saw everything. his eyes were bloodshot, and his face was pale, drained. he opened his mouth, but no words came out. instead, his lips trembled, and a shaky breath escaped him. he quickly looked away.
“i’m sorry,” he said hoarsely.
“for what?” you whispered, your heart breaking at the sound of his voice — so small, so lost.
“for being… this.” he gestured vaguely to himself, his voice cracking. “for messing everything up. for letting everyone down. for not being better.”
you swallowed hard, trying to keep your own tears at bay. this wasn’t the ollie you knew. the confident, self-assured driver. the one who could always bounce back from a loss. this was someone completely different — someone who felt like he’d failed everyone, even himself.
“no,” you whispered, shaking your head and moving closer. “you’re not… you’re not any of those things. ollie, none of this was your fault. racing is unpredictable. sometimes things go wrong, but that doesn’t mean you’re not enough.”
he shook his head again, his voice barely audible. “i’m not good enough, y/n. i try so hard, and it’s never enough. i give everything, and still… it’s never enough.”
your heart shattered at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you reached for him. you pulled him close, wrapping your arms around him, holding him tight. “ollie, baby, no. no. don’t ever think that.”
he trembled in your arms, and the sobs finally came. the kind that wracked his whole body. they were raw, desperate, and as much as you wanted to stop it, you knew there was no quick fix for the pain he was feeling. it was too much, too deep, and tonight, it had finally broken him.
“i’m sorry,” he choked out, his hands gripping at the back of your hoodie like he was afraid you’d disappear. “i’m sorry i’m not… the driver everyone thought i’d be. i can’t even keep the car on track half the time. i let them down. i let you down.”
you felt his chest shake with every sob, and you just held him tighter. your heart was breaking for him, but you knew you couldn’t take the hurt away. all you could do was remind him that he didn’t have to go through this alone.
“ollie,” you whispered, your voice fierce and full of love. “you’ve never let me down. you’ve never let anyone down. you’re my hero. you always will be. no matter what happens on that track, you’re still everything to me.”
he buried his face in your neck, clinging to you as if he might fall apart if you weren’t there. and honestly, you weren’t sure if you could hold him tight enough to make the pain stop. but you kept whispering, over and over, trying to anchor him in your words.
“i love you,” you whispered, your hands gently stroking through his hair. “i love you so much. and i’m so proud of you. you’re enough. always.”
he pulled away slightly, his tear-streaked face meeting yours. his eyes were red, but there was a flicker of something in them — vulnerability, yes, but something else too. relief, maybe. a small bit of comfort in the middle of the storm.
“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “you make everything feel okay, even when it’s not.”
“you don’t have to do any of this alone,” you replied softly. “i’m not going anywhere. you have me, always.”
he leaned his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. the weight of the day was still there, but it wasn’t as heavy. not when you were here, holding him, loving him.
“can we just stay like this for a while?” he asked, his voice small, unsure.
“of course,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him once more, holding him close. “we’ll stay like this as long as you need.”
the two of you stayed there for what felt like hours. no more words, just the quiet comfort of being together. sometimes, you didn’t need to say anything at all. sometimes, it was enough just to be there.
you didn’t know what the next race would bring, or the next challenge, but you knew one thing: no matter how many times he fell, you’d always be there to help him stand. because love, real love, wasn’t about being perfect. it was about being there when things felt broken and reminding each other that you didn’t need to win to be worth everything.
and that was more than enough.
taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, lmk if you want to be added!
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fluff#f1 angst#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula one#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x you#formula one fanfiction#formula one x y/n#ollie bearman#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman x you#ollie bearman x y/n#ollie bearman imagine#oliver bearman
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soft moments
pairings: kenan yildiz x reader
summary: soft moments with kenan <3
warnings: fluff!!
you don’t remember falling asleep in his hoodie, but you wake up in it.
the sunlight is just starting to slip through the curtains when you feel it: the softest brush of lips against your forehead. kenan’s already up, already dressed in something simple, probably one of his too-many gray sweatshirts. you barely open your eyes before he’s murmuring, “sleep a little more, i’ll start the coffee.”
you hum, half-asleep, and curl into his pillow. it smells like him—clean, warm, safe. somewhere in the distance, you hear the coffee machine hum to life. it’s always ready when you get up. he never says anything about it, but you know—he sets it up the night before, even when he’s tired after training.
by the time you shuffle into the kitchen in mismatched socks and his hoodie draped over your frame, he’s sitting at the counter with your mug ready, just the way you like it. no sugar, a splash of oat milk. he doesn’t ask anymore. he just knows.
he hands it to you with a quiet smile and a kiss to your temple.
“morning, baby.”
it’s a sunday, and that means laundry.
well—kenan does the laundry, you just… help.
sort of.
you're sitting cross-legged on the bed, folding towels with a technique he claims is "inefficient but adorable." he's across from you, folding his jerseys and your sweaters with that soft, methodical patience he has for everything. he doesn’t rush. he doesn’t complain.
he folds your favorite pajama shirt carefully, then tucks it into the drawer where he knows you always forget to check. he notices the hole in your sock before you do, and without a word, it disappears into the “bye forever” pile on the floor.
at some point, you toss a hoodie at him.
“mine now,” you say with a smug little smile.
he catches it, raises an eyebrow. “you’ve already stolen three.”
you just shrug and pull it on over your head anyway. it drowns you, sleeves past your hands, and he just watches you for a second with this ridiculously fond look on his face, like you’re the most precious thing in the world wearing his name in cotton and comfort.
then he leans forward, kisses you on the nose, and goes back to folding.
it’s raining out, the kind that taps soft against the windows and makes everything feel like a lullaby.
you’re lying on the couch, head in kenan’s lap, a half-watched movie playing quietly in the background. his fingers run gently through your hair, not really thinking about it, just doing—like it’s second nature to soothe you like that.
you look up at him.
“do you ever get tired of just… this?”
he glances down, confused. “of what?”
“of the quiet. of us just… being boring.”
kenan’s eyes soften. he shakes his head, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “this isn’t boring,” he says quietly. “this is peace.”
you close your eyes at that.
this is peace.
that’s exactly what it is.
you’re brushing your teeth in the bathroom when kenan pads in behind you in socks and boxers, sleep in his eyes and hair a mess. he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, rests his chin on your shoulder. you smile around your toothbrush.
he hums into your neck.
“you smell good,” he mumbles, barely awake.
“you’re clingy.”
“you love it.”
you do.
later, in bed, you roll over to face him. the room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing, and his thumb brushes gently across your cheek. you reach out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
“good day?” you whisper.
he nods. “best day. you were in it.”
your heart does a quiet little somersault.
he leans in, presses his forehead to yours. neither of you says anything more.
because you don’t have to. with kenan, love is never loud. it’s not shouted from rooftops or written in the sky.
it’s in mugs of coffee and folded laundry. it’s in the way he looks at you like you hung the stars, and the way he never lets your hand go when you walk together. it’s in the mundane, the familiar, the quiet moments no one else sees.
and that’s what makes it feel so real.
taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, lmk if you want to be added!
#footballer x reader#football#football imagine#football fanfic#kenan yildiz#kenan yıldız#kenan yildiz x reader#kenan yildiz x you#kenan yildiz x y/n#kenan yildiz imagines
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When are you next writing for Mason
hi love <33 so i have three that i’m working on currently and i will try to publish 1 or 2 this sunday since i’m gonna be really busy this weekend with kingsday!!
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tell me why i had the worst fucking day ever and i lowk want to make it worse by reading the most heart breaking angst ever?? it it js me who does that?? 😭😭
also someone please recommend me some good angst
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ok so i want to write a part 2 for surprise gone wrong and idk who she should get revenge with and here are the ones you all have suggested so far:
also if you want to be part of the taglist for part two, please lmk xx
part 1
💋💋
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fluff#f1 angst#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 imagine#formula one#formula one x reader#lando norris#lando norris angst#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando x you#ln4#mclaren#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#max fewtrell#max fewtrell x reader
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Can you write something for Kenan Yildiz based off this request instead of Ferran, Torres, (not my request fyi😭) “hello! love your writing sm <3 can you do a ferran torres x reader about the different moments of domesticity in a relationship? with ferran there is no need for grand gestures but the familiarity and comfort that comes with daily routines show their love for each other hehe i think that's super ferran coded cos hes such a soft lover 🥹❤️”
soft moments
pairings: kenan yildiz x reader
summary: soft moments with kenan <3
warnings: fluff!!
you don’t remember falling asleep in his hoodie, but you wake up in it.
the sunlight is just starting to slip through the curtains when you feel it: the softest brush of lips against your forehead. kenan’s already up, already dressed in something simple, probably one of his too-many gray sweatshirts. you barely open your eyes before he’s murmuring, “sleep a little more, i’ll start the coffee.”
you hum, half-asleep, and curl into his pillow. it smells like him—clean, warm, safe. somewhere in the distance, you hear the coffee machine hum to life. it’s always ready when you get up. he never says anything about it, but you know—he sets it up the night before, even when he’s tired after training.
by the time you shuffle into the kitchen in mismatched socks and his hoodie draped over your frame, he’s sitting at the counter with your mug ready, just the way you like it. no sugar, a splash of oat milk. he doesn’t ask anymore. he just knows.
he hands it to you with a quiet smile and a kiss to your temple.
“morning, baby.”
it’s a sunday, and that means laundry.
well—kenan does the laundry, you just… help.
sort of.
you're sitting cross-legged on the bed, folding towels with a technique he claims is "inefficient but adorable." he's across from you, folding his jerseys and your sweaters with that soft, methodical patience he has for everything. he doesn’t rush. he doesn’t complain.
he folds your favorite pajama shirt carefully, then tucks it into the drawer where he knows you always forget to check. he notices the hole in your sock before you do, and without a word, it disappears into the “bye forever” pile on the floor.
at some point, you toss a hoodie at him.
“mine now,” you say with a smug little smile.
he catches it, raises an eyebrow. “you’ve already stolen three.”
you just shrug and pull it on over your head anyway. it drowns you, sleeves past your hands, and he just watches you for a second with this ridiculously fond look on his face, like you’re the most precious thing in the world wearing his name in cotton and comfort.
then he leans forward, kisses you on the nose, and goes back to folding.
it’s raining out, the kind that taps soft against the windows and makes everything feel like a lullaby.
you’re lying on the couch, head in kenan’s lap, a half-watched movie playing quietly in the background. his fingers run gently through your hair, not really thinking about it, just doing—like it’s second nature to soothe you like that.
you look up at him.
“do you ever get tired of just… this?”
he glances down, confused. “of what?”
“of the quiet. of us just… being boring.”
kenan’s eyes soften. he shakes his head, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “this isn’t boring,” he says quietly. “this is peace.”
you close your eyes at that.
this is peace.
that’s exactly what it is.
you’re brushing your teeth in the bathroom when kenan pads in behind you in socks and boxers, sleep in his eyes and hair a mess. he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, rests his chin on your shoulder. you smile around your toothbrush.
he hums into your neck.
“you smell good,” he mumbles, barely awake.
“you’re clingy.”
“you love it.”
you do.
later, in bed, you roll over to face him. the room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing, and his thumb brushes gently across your cheek. you reach out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
“good day?” you whisper.
he nods. “best day. you were in it.”
your heart does a quiet little somersault.
he leans in, presses his forehead to yours. neither of you says anything more.
because you don’t have to. with kenan, love is never loud. it’s not shouted from rooftops or written in the sky.
it’s in mugs of coffee and folded laundry. it’s in the way he looks at you like you hung the stars, and the way he never lets your hand go when you walk together. it’s in the mundane, the familiar, the quiet moments no one else sees.
and that’s what makes it feel so real.
taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, lmk if you want to be added!
#footballer x reader#football#football imagine#football fanfic#kenan yildiz#kenan yıldız#kenan yildiz x reader#kenan yildiz x you#kenan yildiz x y/n#kenan yildiz imagines#juventus
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Hey I love your write I was wondering if you do where is the reader is a famous actress she’s knowing for speaking, English, Spanish, Korean and Russia and she’s a singer as well and she’s is dating Alexandra and Charles and reader is in South Korea filming squid game season two and three and reader and Lee byung are really close and y/n starts to make excuses to go see South Korean and every time Alex and Charlies go see her and notice y/n and byung are being touchy and they ask her if she has something going on with him and she would always reply with “it’s not going to happen again.” So they forgot her and they start to notice byung posing “I love the mess that I am making.” Or posting pictures showing a suitcase and sometimes posting hurtful things etc so they confront her and she’s like “yeah I do have a relationship with byung and I am sorry for hurting but I didn’t know how to tell you guys and don’t worry about telling me to leave since I was of planning to leave either ways
hi love!! okay so as much as i would like to write this, i haven't watched squid game and i have no clue who lee byung is. if you'd like, i can write this but with a different person? so sorry xx
💋💋
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surprise gone wrong
pairings: lando norris x reader
summary: in which you try surprising lando...
warnings: angst, cheating
melbourne, australia – sunday night
you hadn’t been this excited in weeks.
the plane landed thirty minutes early, but it still felt like it took forever to reach the city. every step off the plane, through customs, into the cab—it all buzzed with a kind of electricity that made your fingers twitch. you were barely keeping it together.
you were going to surprise him. your boyfriend. your person.
lando.
you hadn’t seen him in three weeks. the season had barely started, but it already felt like the world was swallowing him whole. interviews, practice, media, debriefs. your conversations had gone from long, late-night calls to quick voice notes and blurry facetimes while he was on the move.
but today was different.
he won. first place. finally.
you watched it on the tiny tv at home, hands over your mouth, heart pounding with his. and when he crossed the finish line, when the team screamed over the radio, when his voice cracked through the headset—you felt it all. pride. joy. love.
you booked the flight that same hour.
you didn’t tell him. didn’t want to. it was supposed to be a surprise. you wanted to show up, wrap your arms around him, and whisper, “you did it. i’m here.”
the rooftop bar was chaos.
you barely made it through security, but someone from mclaren must’ve recognized you and let you up. the elevator was packed with strangers—some people dressed like they lived here, others clearly part of the racing circus. cameras were already out. music thumped through the walls.
when the doors opened, the night hit you full force.
neon lights. booming bass. drinks spilling over glasses. laughter, loud and echoing. flashes from phones and disco balls and champagne bottles. the kind of party that blurred together like a fever dream.
but your eyes were searching for one thing. just one.
him.
and then you saw him.
lando.
halfway across the rooftop, surrounded by a crowd of familiar faces—some engineers, a few of the pr team, people you’d met once or twice. his curls were a mess, shirt slightly untucked, a drink in one hand, and that signature post-win smile stretched wide across his face.
your breath caught in your throat.
god, you’d missed him.
you stepped forward, your fingers gripping your purse a little tighter, heart ready to burst.
and then everything stopped.
because she was there.
a girl. standing too close. laughing at something he said, one hand on his chest.
and before you could even blink, he leaned in. and kissed her.
slow. familiar. like it wasn’t the first time.
you froze.
it was like your body short-circuited. like someone hit pause on the world, but forgot to tell your heart to stop breaking.
his hand was on her waist. hers tangled in his curls—the curls you used to touch when he couldn’t sleep, when he was anxious, when he needed grounding.
and he was smiling into it. drunk. relaxed. like there was nothing wrong.
like you weren’t even real.
you didn’t know how long you stood there.
you couldn’t move. couldn’t blink. couldn’t even breathe properly.
the music was too loud. the lights too bright. the room spinning too fast.
lando norris—your lando—was kissing someone else.
and you were just… standing there.
uninvited. unseen. the girl who showed up late to her own story.
your heels clicked too loudly as you turned around. pushed through the crowd. passed people who didn’t know you, didn’t care. the elevator took forever. someone asked if you were okay. you nodded without hearing them.
once outside, the air hit you like a wave.
melbourne at night was still buzzing. people celebrating. cars honking. the city alive.
but your world had gone completely, painfully still.
you walked. didn’t know where. didn’t care.
you just needed to get away from that rooftop. away from the music. the cameras. the kiss.
you had come here to surprise him. to celebrate with him.
but he had already moved on.
sunday night – 1:42 a.m.
you didn’t remember getting to the hotel.
your phone said it was fifteen minutes away, but your mind had gone quiet somewhere between leaving the club and stepping into the empty, too-clean lobby. everything felt hazy. like you were watching yourself from the outside, like you were just playing a part in a story that was never really yours.
the keycard slid into the door with a beep. you stepped inside the room. lights off. no sounds. just the low hum of the air conditioning and the dull ache behind your eyes.
you dropped your purse on the chair. kicked off your heels. the dress, once so carefully picked for him, slid to the floor with a whisper.
you stood there in silence. bare. weightless. like if you closed your eyes, you could just disappear.
but you didn’t.
you walked to the bed, sat on the edge, and finally—finally—let it out.
not the sobbing kind of cry. not the messy, movie-scene breakdown.
this one was quieter. smaller.
it started in your chest. then your throat. then your eyes, slow and warm and unrelenting.
you buried your face in your hands. curled in on yourself.
this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.
you’d imagined it so many times.
lando opening his hotel door and seeing you there. his eyes going wide, grin stretching across his face as he pulled you in, lifted you off your feet like he always used to. his voice thick with disbelief, “you’re actually here?” followed by kisses, laughter, maybe even tears.
you would’ve run your hands through his curls, whispered, “you did it, baby,” and he would’ve held you like the world had stopped.
that was the version you flew across the world for.
but instead, he kissed someone else.
and smiled while doing it.
your phone lit up on the nightstand.
1:51 a.m. text from: oscar
hey, lando’s pretty out of it. you coming by? he’s been looking around like he forgot something. maybe you?
you stared at it.
what were you supposed to say to that?
you started typing.
i saw him.
paused.
deleted it.
typed again.
i’m here.
no. not right.
you sat there, thumbs hovering over the screen, heart pounding in your ears.
finally, you sent:
tell him congrats.
short. distant. detached.
you turned the phone face down after that.
you laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, arms crossed over your chest like you were trying to hold yourself together. the sheets smelled like hotel bleach and artificial lavender. the kind of clean that made everything feel more sterile. more empty.
you used to feel so close to him, even when he was halfway across the world.
but now?
you’d never felt farther away.
you thought about calling someone. your sister. your best friend. anyone who could make this moment less sharp. less lonely.
but how do you explain flying across the world to surprise someone, only to find out they stopped waiting for you?
how do you explain watching the person you love put their hands on someone else like it meant nothing?
you didn’t want to talk.
you just wanted to forget.
your eyes fluttered shut. and for a second, the image played again behind your eyelids.
lando, laughing. her fingers in his hair. his mouth pressed to hers.
your stomach turned.
you rolled over, facing the wall, trying to breathe past the ache.
you came all this way. you were the surprise.
but he didn’t even notice you were gone.
flashback – eight months ago, london
the rain had come out of nowhere.
you were both soaked—shoes squishing, clothes clinging to skin, hair plastered to your faces as you ran down the narrow london street, laughing like idiots.
lando had forgotten an umbrella. of course.
“i told you to check the weather,” you teased, huddled under a shop overhang, trying to catch your breath.
“you did. i just didn’t listen.”
he was grinning. water dripping from his lashes, curls a mess. he looked ridiculous. beautiful.
you stared at him, heart full, cheeks aching from smiling.
“we’re actually drenched.”
“romantic, though.” he leaned in, bumping your forehead with his. “like a movie scene.”
“a very soggy movie scene.”
he laughed. and then he kissed you. right there, in the middle of the street, while strangers rushed past and the sky kept pouring.
it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t perfect. but it was real.
that was the thing with lando—he made even the messiest moments feel soft. warm. like something you wanted to wrap yourself in.
later, back at his place, you sat on the kitchen counter in his hoodie while he made tea. music playing low, windows fogged up from the cold. the quiet kind of night that felt like home.
he walked over, pressed a mug into your hands, then stood between your legs, hands resting on your thighs.
“i hate how much i love you,” he said softly, eyes on yours.
you raised an eyebrow. “that a bad thing?”
he shook his head. “no. just scary. i’ve never had this before.”
you swallowed.
you’d never had it either.
“what’s ‘this’?”
“you.” he smiled, just a little. “you feel like the only thing that makes sense when everything else is insane.”
you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.
“then hold onto me, yeah?”
“always.”
and you believed him.
present – melbourne, 3:13 a.m.
you were still awake.
still staring at the ceiling like it had answers.
the hotel room was quiet except for the occasional car down on the street below. you hadn’t moved much. your body felt heavy. not tired, just… hollow.
you kept replaying that night. london. the rain. his hands. his words.
he said he’d hold onto you.
but somewhere between then and now, his grip slipped.
or maybe yours did.
maybe the distance got too loud. maybe the silence in between texts got too long. maybe love needs more than belief to survive.
you reached for your phone again.
no new messages.
not from him.
not from anyone.
you considered texting him. asking why. asking if he meant to do it. if he even knew you were there. if she was just some mistake or someone he’d already planned on seeing long before tonight.
but deep down, you knew the answer.
lando never did things by accident. not like that.
you turned your phone over again. shoved it under the pillow.
whatever you had—whatever you were—maybe it wasn’t enough anymore.
taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, lmk if you want to be added!
#f1 x reader#f1#f1 angst#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 imagine#formula one#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x y/n#formula one fanfiction#formula one x you#lando x you#lando norris#lando norris angst#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris imagine#mclaren#ln4
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say it back
pairings: pedri x reader, pablo gavi x reader, ferran torres x reader, pau cubarsi x reader, hector fort x reader, alejandro balde x reader, lamine yamal x reader, marc bernal x reader
summary: in which you prank your boyfriend by not saying “i love you” back
warnings: suggestive stuff!
a/n: for my bae, @hollyf1 <33 i hope you like it gorgeous x
୨ৎ pablo gavi
it was late afternoon in barcelona, golden light slipping through the windows, warming up the little apartment you and pablo shared. he was stretched out on the couch, head resting on your thighs, one hand tracing lazy circles on your knee, the other scrolling through his phone.
out of nowhere, with no warning, he looked up at you and said it. quiet, but sure.
“te quiero.”
you heard it. of course you did. but today? you felt like causing just a little chaos.
so you didn’t say it back.
you just kept playing with his hair, eyes on the tv, like he hadn’t said anything at all.
he blinked. “¿qué?”
you hummed. “hmm?”
“i just told you i love you,” he said, already sitting up a little. “you always say it back.”
you gave him a tiny smile. “mhm.”
he stared at you like you’d just ended your entire relationship. “mhm? are you messing with me?”
you shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek.
“nah, no. don’t do this to me right now.” he sat up fully now, dramatic as ever. “you’re mad at me. i knew it. is it the thing i said this morning? because i didn’t mean it like that—”
“pablo—”
“no, wait. be honest. what did i do? i’ll fix it.”
you burst into laughter, finally cracking. “oh my god, i’m joking.”
he froze. “what?”
“i was messing with you.”
he looked at you, dead serious. “you nearly gave me a heart attack. my soul left my body.”
you were still laughing as he flopped back onto the couch, groaning like the world had ended. “you’re so dramatic.”
“i’m passionate,” he muttered, pulling you down with him. “and you’re evil. beautiful, but evil.”
you kissed his cheek. “i love you.”
he huffed. “too late. damage is done.”
“pablito.”
“nope.”
you rolled your eyes, then leaned in, whispering, “te amo, mi vida.”
he peeked up at you, already melting a little. “okay fine. i forgive you.”
“wow. how generous.”
he smirked. “but i am getting revenge. just so you know.”
you raised an eyebrow. “should i be scared?”
he nodded. “terrified.”
but he kissed you right after, so you figured you could survive whatever chaos he was planning.
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୨ৎ pedri
pedri was lying next to you, half-asleep, hoodie sleeves pushed up, arm slung around your waist like he had no plans to let go anytime soon. his face was buried in the pillow, voice muffled and lazy when he said it.
“te quiero.”
you heard it, and yeah… it made your heart do that little thing it always did when he said that. but today? today you felt like messing with him.
so you didn’t say it back.
you just hummed softly and kept scrolling on your phone.
he lifted his head slightly. “¿lo escuchaste?”
you smiled without looking at him. “mmhm.”
a pause.
“…and?”
“and what?”
he blinked slowly, sitting up just a little, eyebrows knitting together in the way they always did when he was confused but trying not to overthink. “i just said i love you.”
you glanced at him. “oh. gracias.”
he stared at you. silent. blinked again. “gracias?”
you bit the inside of your cheek, staying calm. “yeah.”
he didn’t move. just looked at you for a long second like he was trying to figure out if this was a prank or if his heart had actually just been broken in real time.
“wait, are you mad at me?” he asked, voice lower now, more serious. “did i say something wrong?”
you couldn’t hold the laughter in anymore — you turned to him, grinning. “pedri. baby. i’m kidding.”
he narrowed his eyes at you, lips pressed together like he was trying not to smile. “that’s not funny.”
“it was a little funny.”
“my chest actually hurt,” he said, laying back down dramatically. “i thought we were over.”
you laughed, pulling him closer again. “you’re so dramatic.”
“i’m in love, not dramatic.”
you kissed his cheek. “i love you.”
he pretended to ignore you.
“pedri…”
nothing.
you kissed his jaw. “mi amor…”
he sighed like he was giving in. “now you say it?”
“i was always gonna say it.”
“still hurt,” he mumbled, burying his face in your neck. “wounded forever.”
“you’ll live.”
“barely.”
you smiled, running your fingers through his curls. “te quiero, pedri.”
“yeah, yeah,” he said, voice sleepy again. “we’ll see if you’re laughing when i get you back.”
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୨ৎ ferran torres
you and ferran were lounging on the couch, a movie playing quietly in the background, though neither of you were really paying much attention to it. his arm was casually draped over the back of the couch, fingers brushing against your shoulder as you scrolled through your phone.
out of nowhere, ferran turned his head toward you with that familiar, teasing smirk.
“te quiero,” he said, as if it was just a casual comment, but the way he said it made it feel a little more like a challenge.
you didn’t answer right away. you kept scrolling, pretending not to notice his expectant gaze.
he raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. “¿me escuchaste?”
you looked at him briefly and shrugged, still not making it easy. “mhm.”
ferran tilted his head, clearly not impressed. “just ‘mhm’? that’s all i get?”
you smirked and finally put your phone down, turning to face him. “yeah, why?”
his grin widened, a little mischievous now. “you’re not gonna say it back?”
you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms casually. “what if i don’t?”
he leaned in closer, as if he was going to take you seriously, but the playful glint in his eyes said otherwise. “you really wanna do that, princesa?”
you couldn’t help but smile at his teasing tone. “maybe i do.”
ferran leaned back, clearly enjoying this little game. “well, i’m not letting you get away with that.”
he slid his hand over to gently tap your leg, like a reminder that he was still there, still waiting for that response.
“come on,” he said, voice light but with that confident edge. “i say i love you, and you’re just gonna leave me hanging?”
you chuckled and shrugged. “maybe i like leaving you hanging.”
he laughed, a deep, amused sound, then leaned in just a little closer, making sure you felt his presence. “i’m patient, princesa. but not that patient.”
you couldn’t help but laugh at his persistence. “you think i’m gonna say it just because you’re being dramatic?”
he grinned, giving you that cocky look. “oh, i know you will. it’s just a matter of when.”
with that, you finally gave in, shaking your head with a smile. “te quiero.”
ferran’s smile softened, but there was still that playful spark in his eyes. “took you long enough,” he said, leaning back comfortably, still keeping his arm around you.
you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too. “you’re lucky i said it at all.”
“just wait till i get you back.”
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୨ৎ pau cubarsi
you and pau were sitting on the couch at his apartment, a movie playing in the background, though neither of you were really paying attention to it. pau was lying on his back, his head resting on your lap, scrolling through his phone while you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair.
the atmosphere was calm, comfortable. you had been dating for a while now, and things felt easy with pau — natural. but, of course, you couldn’t resist having a little fun.
after a few moments of silence, pau looked up at you, his eyes soft. "te quiero," he said quietly, his voice warm.
you felt a small smile tug at your lips as you met his gaze, but instead of immediately replying, you gave him a mischievous look.
he waited for a moment, clearly expecting you to say it back. you could tell he was being patient, that little glint of expectation in his eyes, but you decided to tease him a bit.
you simply nodded, a soft "mhm" escaping your lips.
pau blinked a couple of times, as if he wasn’t sure if he had heard you correctly. he straightened up slightly, looking at you with confusion. "what?"
you kept your gaze cool and nonchalant, pretending you hadn’t noticed his reaction. "i said 'mhm'," you replied casually.
he let out a small laugh, though you could see the playful frustration creeping into his expression. "no, no, no. i said te quiero, and you're supposed to say it back."
you shrugged, still pretending you were clueless. "i did say it back."
"uh-uh," he said, shaking his head with a grin. "that’s not how it works, princesa. you have to say it properly."
you leaned back into the couch, making sure to keep a neutral face. "why? i already said it… kinda."
pau’s eyebrows furrowed, and you could tell he was trying to hold back his laughter, but his patience was starting to wear thin. "come on, stop playing with me."
you let the silence drag on for a bit longer, enjoying how much it was getting to him. he shifted closer, putting his hand on your leg, eyes narrowing playfully.
"you know you want to say it back," he said with a smirk.
you met his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "oh, do i?"
he nodded, clearly confident in his charm. "i know you do."
you smiled sweetly but didn’t say a word. instead, you let your fingers gently tap his arm, pretending you hadn’t noticed how close he was getting.
pau exhaled dramatically, letting out a small, exaggerated groan. "this is torture, you know that?"
you finally couldn’t hold it anymore. your smile broke out into a grin, and you leaned in closer to him, your face softening as you whispered, "te quiero," just as he was about to say something else.
he paused, his whole demeanor shifting. a smile slowly spread across his face, and he shook his head, chuckling.
"te quiero, huh?" pau said with a playful grin. "took you long enough."
you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you. "you were starting to get dramatic," you teased, gently poking his side.
pau grinned wider, his hand resting on your waist as he pulled you closer. "i knew you’d say it eventually. but next time, don’t make me wait so long."
you laughed again, wrapping your arms around him. "i’ll make sure not to."
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୨ৎ hector fort
you and héctor were on the couch, the day winding down as you both relaxed after a long, busy week. he was lounging beside you, his arm casually draped over your shoulders while you fiddled with your phone, scrolling through random stuff. it was quiet, but not in an awkward way — just in the easy, comfortable silence you shared.
out of nowhere, héctor’s voice broke the stillness, calm but with a little something playful in his tone. "te quiero."
you didn’t immediately respond. instead, you kept your eyes glued to your phone, pretending like you didn’t even hear him.
he waited for a moment, clearly expecting a reply. when you didn’t say anything, he raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "¿no vas a decir nada?" he asked, sounding a bit more teasing now.
you shrugged without looking up. "what do you mean? i heard you."
"uh-huh," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "you heard me, but didn’t feel like saying it back, huh?"
you kept scrolling, acting like it was no big deal, but the mischievous glint in his eyes told you he was having fun with this. "maybe i just didn’t feel like it," you said casually, as though it was no big deal.
"oh, so that’s how it is?" he leaned in slightly, his tone playful but with a hint of challenge. "you’re really gonna make me wait?"
you shot him a quick glance, trying to keep your face neutral, but his smile was contagious. "maybe."
he leaned back into the couch, pretending to think for a moment, but you could see the smirk tugging at his lips. "you know, i’ve been pretty patient with you," he said, his voice low and teasing. "but if you’re gonna leave me hanging, i might just have to do something about it."
you raised an eyebrow, still pretending to be uninterested. "like what?"
"oh, i don’t know," he shrugged dramatically, "maybe i’ll just have to keep repeating it until you can’t stand it anymore. or maybe i’ll just—"
"te quiero," you cut him off, finally giving in with a teasing smile, "happy now?"
his eyes lit up, a triumphant grin crossing his face. "finally! i was starting to wonder if i was gonna have to resort to more drastic measures," he teased, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "but now i know you really do love me."
you couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. "you’re ridiculous."
"you know you love me," he said confidently, his hand gently resting on your waist. "next time, don’t make me wait so long."
you smiled, enjoying how easily he could shift from teasing to serious in an instant. "fine, fine. i’ll be quicker next time."
"that’s all i ask," he replied, pulling you closer, his voice warm and content. "but if you think you can get away with not saying it back again, we’ll see how long you can hold out next time."
you chuckled, resting your head on his shoulder. "i’ll keep that in mind."
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୨ৎ alejandro balde
you and alejandro were lounging on the couch in his apartment, both of you winding down after a long day. the tv was on, but neither of you were really paying attention to it. he was lying next to you, his arm casually draped around your shoulders, his head resting against yours.
out of nowhere, he turned to you, his voice light and a little teasing. "te quiero."
you looked up from your phone, raising an eyebrow at him. you didn’t say anything right away, though. instead, you just smiled to yourself and kept scrolling.
alejandro’s grin faltered for a second, clearly expecting a quicker response. "¿qué pasa? no me vas a decir nada?" he asked, his tone already playfully accusing.
you shrugged, acting casual. "i did hear you."
"mhm, but you didn’t say it back," he said, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. you could see the challenge in his eyes. "what’s going on? you’re making me wait?"
you could feel the playful tension rising as he waited for your reply. you looked at him with a teasing smile. "maybe i’m just thinking about it."
alejandro leaned in a little, his lips pulling into a smirk. "thinking about it, huh?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "i see how it is. you just wanna leave me hanging?"
you let the silence stretch on for a moment longer, not replying immediately, letting him get more curious.
he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you, his eyes narrowing just a bit. "you’re not gonna say it back, are you?" he asked, sounding more amused than frustrated.
"maybe not," you said with a shrug, still not giving him the satisfaction of a full reply.
alejandro let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be wounded. "ouch, that hurts," he said, though there was no mistaking the teasing tone in his voice. "but i’ll give you one more chance."
you chuckled at how much he was playing it up, finally putting your phone down and meeting his gaze. "why should i say it back?" you asked with a sly smile.
he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a more playful, almost smug tone. "because you know you love me," he said, the smirk on his lips growing wider. "and i’m pretty sure you don’t want to make me beg."
you rolled your eyes, but you could already feel yourself breaking. "fine," you said, barely holding back your laughter. "te quiero."
alejandro immediately flashed a grin, his posture relaxing as he pulled you close. "finally," he said, his voice full of satisfaction. "was that so hard?"
"you’re ridiculous," you laughed, resting your head on his shoulder.
he laughed too, wrapping his arm around you. "hey, it’s your fault for making me wait. i’m just making sure you know how much i like hearing it."
you smiled, feeling the warmth of the moment. "next time, i won’t make you wait."
"i’m counting on it," he said with a grin, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "but don’t think you can get away with not saying it next time."
you chuckled, enjoying how playful he was. "we’ll see."
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୨ৎ lamine yamal
the apartment smelled like garlic and something good simmering. music played low from the speaker — something chill, maybe feid or bad bunny, one of lam’s go-tos. you were at the stove, focused on stirring the pasta sauce, and behind you, lamine leaned against the counter with that lazy little smirk of his.
he was watching you like he always did when he was in that soft mood — hoodie on, curls a bit messy, probably still thinking about training but pretending like he wasn’t.
“i love you,” he said, like it was just another thing to throw into the air. casual. natural.
you smiled a little to yourself, but didn’t say it back.
there was a pause.
“wait… did you hear me?”
“hmm?” you asked, pretending to be super focused on the sauce.
“i said i love you.”
you glanced over your shoulder, gave him a soft smile, and just said, “oh yeah. i heard you.”
he blinked. “so say it back.”
you shrugged, turning off the stove. “no need. i already know.”
he stared at you, eyes wide like you’d just told him you hated football. “nah… no, no, no. don’t play like that.”
you walked past him, brushing his arm, trying to hold in your laugh. “i’m not playing.”
he followed you into the living room immediately, hands in the air. “so that’s it? you’re not gonna say it back? after everything we’ve been through?”
you flopped onto the couch, cool as ever. “you’ll survive, superstar.”
“this is emotional damage,” he muttered, sitting down next to you like his whole world just ended. “i scored two goals last week. i deserve better.”
“you want a trophy or something?”
“no. i want my te amo back.”
you bit your lip, trying not to laugh. he was pouting now, head thrown back on the cushion, being 100% dramatic.
“fine,” you whispered, leaning close. “i love you.”
he peeked at you with one eye. “you’re only saying it ‘cause you felt bad.”
“maybe.”
“hm. fake.”
you kissed his cheek. “you still smiled, though.”
he rolled his eyes, pulling you onto his lap like he couldn’t stay mad if he tried. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”
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୨ৎ marc bernal
the apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the washing machine and the occasional clink of your spoon against the bowl. you were both sitting on the floor — something you did often. no couch, no noise. just the two of you, sharing cereal and quiet.
marc had a blanket thrown over his shoulders like some kind of sleepy king. curls a little messy, eyes still heavy from his nap. he was always like this after long days — quiet, but not tired of you. never tired of you.
he looked up at you suddenly, like something just came to mind.
“t’estimo,” he said softly, voice low.
you glanced over and smiled, but didn’t say it back. just kept eating, like you didn’t notice.
he blinked. “hey.”
“hm?” you didn’t meet his eyes.
“did you hear what i said?”
“yeah,” you said, cool as ever.
he tilted his head, trying to read your face. “and?”
you wiped a bit of milk from your lip with your sleeve. “and nothing.”
“nothing?” he repeated, a small laugh slipping out. “you’re really not gonna say it back?”
you shrugged. “maybe you’ve heard it enough.”
he didn’t say anything for a second. just looked at you with those warm, steady eyes. the ones that didn’t rush anything. he picked at the edge of the blanket.
“you always say it back.”
you looked over at him, pretending to be serious. “maybe i’m starting a new trend.”
he smiled, slow and crooked. “you’re not serious.”
you didn’t answer — just leaned your head against the wall and looked away dramatically, like some indie film character.
he scooted closer, bowl in hand, now clearly onto you. “you’re messing with me.”
“maybe.”
he laughed again, but there was something soft behind it. “i was starting to think i did something wrong.”
you finally turned toward him, kissed his shoulder lightly, and whispered, “i love you, bernal.”
he gave you a look. one of those quiet little grins that made your chest feel stupidly warm. “you forgot something.”
“what?”
“saying it when i say it. not five minutes later.”
you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’ll live.”
he leaned in, forehead resting against yours. “barely.”
taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, lmk if you want to be added!
#fc barcelona#footballer x reader#football#football imagine#pablo gavi#gavi#pablo gavi x reader#gavi x reader#pedri#pedri x reader#pedri gonzalez x reader#pedri gonzalez#pedri imagine#pedri x you#pedri fanfic#pedri fluff#ferran torres#ferran torres x reader#ferran torres imagine#ferran torres fluff#pau cubarsi#pau cubarsi x reader#pau cubarsí#pau cubarsí x reader#pau cubarsi imagine#pau cubarsi fic#pau cubarsí x you#pau cubarsí x y/n#hector fort#hector fort x reader
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FINALLYYYY

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𐙚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲
𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐰𝐚𝐠
❥ baby girl - (𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐳𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫)
❥ cheerleaders - (𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐤𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬)
❥ sick days - (𝐦𝐚𝐱 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭)
❥ warm baths - (𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐱)
❥ monaco - (𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐱)
❥ oscars - (𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐱)
❥ cozy mornings - (𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧)
❥ love songs - (𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐭)
𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫
nothing yet!
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fluff#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 fic#f1 angst#f1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one x reader#lando norris x reader#landoscar x reader#carlando x reader#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastry x lily zneimer x reader#lily zneimer x reader#kika gomes x reader#pierre gasly x reader x kika gomes#alexandra saint mleux x reader#charles leclerc x alexandra saint mleux x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lestappen x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x kelly piquet x reader#charlos x reader#carlos sainz x reader x rebecca donaldson#carlos sainz x reader#george russell x reader
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𐙚 𝐰𝐚𝐠𝐬
nothing yet!
#lily zneimer#lily zneimer x reader#kika gomes#kika gomes x reader#alexandra saint mleux x reader#alexandra saint mleux#rebecca donaldson#rebecca donaldson x reader#carmen mundt#carmen mundt x reader#kelly piquet#kelly piquet x reader
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𐙚 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞
❥ f1 drivers when you don't say "i love you" back
#f1#f1 fic#f1 angst#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula 1#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula one#lando norris#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz#kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli x reader#george russell x reader#george russell#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#pierre gasly x reader#pierre gasly#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman
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𐙚 𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧
nothing yet!
#f1#f1 fic#f1 angst#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x reader#formula one#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman#ollie bearman x you#ollie bearman x y/n#ollie bearman x female reader#ollie bearman imagine#oliver bearman#ob87#haas f1 team
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𐙚 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐲
❥ cheerleaders ft. 𝐤𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬
#f1#f1 fic#f1 angst#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula one#pierre gasly x reader#pierre gasly#pierre gasly x you#pierre gasly imagine#pierre gasly x y/n#pierre gasly fluff#alpine#pg10#pg10 x reader#pg10 imagine
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