#i just know Italian pasta better

[checkeredflagggs]

Rookie Comfort

Pairing: max verstappen x girlfriend!reader

summary: max and his girlfriend take the 2025 rookies under their wings

a/n: please give these rookies some slack oh my god. This was written during the race — which omg what an opening!!

Masterlist | Taglist

y/n

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 824,623 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

y/n: baby lion coming spring ‘25!

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user1: oh my god oh my god it’s happening!

↳user2: this is everything I’ve ever wanted

↳user1: same!

oscarpiastri: Congratulations!

↳y/n: thank you!

landonorris: Oh! Congrats! McLaren and Quadrant merch on the way!

↳y/n: nope!

↳landonorris: 😮

↳y/n: listen if this baby is gonna support anyone but their dad, it’s gonna be Ferrari

↳maxverstappen1: no

alex_albon: so has redbull signed baby verstappen yet?

↳y/n: not quite…I told them baby had to sign the papers themselves so it might take a couple of years!

charles_leclerc: Félicitations! Ferrari onesies on the way

↳maxverstappen1: thanks but throw them out.

↳y/n: absolutely do not! Forza Ferrari!

↳user3: max’s girlfriend (and boyfriend) being tifosi just makes sense liked by y/n, charles_leclerc

f1gossip

liked by user, y/n, user and 173,923 others

f1gossip: it seems like Max has adopted some rookies this year!

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user4: ok but that was so cute?

↳user5: right? They followed him around just like ducklings…

y/n: oh this is so adorable ☺️

↳user6: Queen! Is it true that max adopted them?

↳y/n: well even if he hasn’t I now have!

↳charles_leclerc: stop stealing my kid!

↳y/n: take better care of them then!

↳olliebearman: hi mom!

↳y/n: oh hello darling

↳charles_leclerc: 😱

↳olliebearman: sorry but she gave me some ice cream liked by y/n

↳charles_leclerc: i have ice cream??

user7: maxverstappen1 are you aware your girlfriend has decided you’ve adopted some rookies?

↳y/n: some??? No no no we’ve adopted all of them

↳maxverstappen1: have we??

↳y/n: yes we have!

↳maxverstappen1: ok

↳olliebearman: score!

↳gabrielbortoleto_: yes!

↳liamlawson30: does that mean free dinner?

↳isackhadjar: ill take dinner

↳jackdoohan: even me?

↳y/n: absolutely. Dinner on us tonight

↳kimi.antonelli: fantastico!

user8: I see that the winter break has made EVERYONE crazy…

y/n

liked by y/n, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,823,192 others

tagged: y/n, olliebearman, gabrielbortoleto_, liamlawson30, isackhadjar, jackdoohan, kimi.antonelli

maxverstappen1: dinner with the wife and kids

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user9: DID THEY GET MARRIED AND NOT TELL ANYONE?

↳user10: if they did, they’ve been married for years.

↳user11: yeah max has been calling her wife since they started dating really

user12: im so invested in this family you have no idea

↳user13: big same

charles_leclerc: you didn’t invite me?

↳y/n: well the husband doesn’t usually invite the mistress to dinner with the wife?

↳charles_leclerc: I can bring ice cream over?

↳y/n: oh my god yes please. Baby lion is craving some classic vanilla please

↳user14: you know with everything with the rookies going on i completely forgot y/n is actually pregnant

↳y/n: i wish i could but baby lion is using my ribs as drums…

jackdoohan: thanks for the invite! And for dinner

↳y/n: you have an open invitation darling

↳jackdoohan: thanks! Will definitely be using that

kimi.antonelli: that was some quality pasta!

↳y/n: stamp of approval from our Italian!

↳kimi.antonelli: ehehehe

oscarpiastri: how does one get an invite to dinners like this?

↳charles_leclerc: son?

↳oscarpiastri: sorry dad but that looks very good

↳y/n: you’re welcome to come over as well!

↳charles_leclerc: stop taking my kids! liked by y/n

f1gossip

liked by y/n, user, user, and 824,813 others

tagged: y/n, olliebearman, jackdoohan, isackhadjar, fernandoalo_oficial, gabrielbortoleto_, liamlawson30

f1gossip: and it’s a race weekend that’s not been kind to the 2025 rookies

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user15: this is so insane…

↳user16: this better not be the entire season. My heart can’t take it…

user17: but ok y/n is working overtime on comforting her rookies

↳user18: the cameramen are doing the lords work on focusing on her

↳user17: I mean it’s not hard — she’s in one place and her rookies are coming to her

↳user18: as they should! She’s like 7 months pregnant

user20: I was biting my nails the entire race…

↳y/n: you were??? I was!

↳user21: how you doing girl?

↳y/n: oh my god so stressed

y/n

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,273,183 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

y/n: oh my love what a race this was! But I don’t think I can do it again…

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olliebearman: did you see my drive today?

↳y/n: I did darling! And you did very well!

↳user22: he was last?!?

↳y/n: and yet he finished the race when so many didn’t? With only 1 full practice session?

gabrielbortoleto_: thanks for being here today!

↳y/n: of course darling! It was a pleasure to see your first race!

↳user23: you’ve really just dove into this motherhood didn’t you?

↳y/n: they’re good practice for baby lion liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri: ok but I’m gonna need a family dinner after today

↳y/n: oh absolutely! You and jack pick the place and we’ll be there!

↳jackdoohan: yes! We gotta go to my favorite!

liamlawson30: where’d you go? I’ve got your water

↳y/n: back to the car — I needed some peace and quiet

↳liamlawson30: On my way!

↳user24: love how they also jumped on the family train too

maxverstappen1: thanks for coming but maybe it’s time to head back home?

↳y/n: but our sons?

↳maxverstappen1: don’t worry. I’ll watch over them

↳charles_leclerc: as will I! Because Ollie is MY son

↳olliebearman: 😊😊😊

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @elliegray2803 @anunstablefangirl

[cameronsbabydoll]

ex!husband!rafe baby trapping you… again

warnings: manipulation, baby trapping, rafe being arrogant and condescending, explicit content 18+

wc: 1,643 — a/n: i went a little crazy with this but i’m kinda obsessed with ex!husband!rafe

you pull into the driveway of rafe’s ostentatious mansion, tires crunching on the pristine gravel, and already you’re irritated. the place is a monument to his ego—towering columns, a fountain that probably cost more than your car, and those floor-to-ceiling windows that scream look at me. it’s sunday, 6 p.m., and your son’s supposed to be packed and ready for pickup. except the house looks dead quiet—no little boy barreling out to tackle you with hugs. you grit your teeth, haul yourself out of the car, and stomp up to the door, banging on it with the side of your fist.

it swings open, and there he is—rafe cameron, your ex-husband, the human equivalent of a migraine you can’t shake. he’s leaning against the frame, white dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, showing off that infuriatingly sculpted torso. a glass of whiskey dangles from his fingers, ice clinking as he swirls it, and his lips twitch into that smug, lopsided grin that makes you want to slap him—or worse, kiss him.

“well, well,” he drawls, voice dripping with condescension. “look who’s gracing my doorstep. early, too. miss me that much, sweetheart?”

you glare, arms crossing tight over your chest. “where’s our son, rafe? don’t play games with me.”

he takes a slow, deliberate sip of his whiskey, letting the silence hang heavy just to mess with you. “oh, him? yeah, he’s at a sleepover. didn’t i mention that?” his brows lift, feigning innocence, but the glint in his eyes says he planned this down to the second.

“no, you didn’t,” you snap, voice rising. “you purposely didn’t, you manipulative—”

“easy, easy,” he cuts in, stepping aside with a lazy wave of his hand. “no need to storm off. come in. i’ve got dinner.”

you should turn around. you know you should. but then you smell it—garlic, rich tomato sauce, the unmistakable aroma of your favorite italian takeout from that little spot downtown you used to drag him to. your stomach betrays you with a growl, and rafe’s smirk widens, like he’s already won.

“got your usual,” he says, voice low and coaxing, stepping closer until you can feel the heat radiating off him. “figured you’d be starving after all that… hard work you do.”

it’s a dig—he’s always loved reminding you how “cute” your post-divorce life is compared to his empire of excess. you clench your jaw, but your feet move anyway, carrying you past the threshold. one dinner. that’s it. then you’re gone.

the takeout’s laid out on his ridiculous marble island, a spread that’s way too much for two people—pasta, bruschetta, tiramisu, the works. he pours you a glass of wine without asking, sliding it across the counter with a smug, “whiskey’s too harsh for you, princess. stick to what you know.”

you roll your eyes but take it, sipping just to prove a point. he’s lounging across from you, shirt still half-open, watching you eat like it’s a damn performance. one glass becomes two, then three, and soon you’re tipsy, the room softening around the edges. he’s telling some story about a client overpaying for a yacht, his voice all smooth and mocking, and you’re laughing despite yourself—because he’s still got that stupid charm that hooked you years ago.

“see?” he says, leaning closer, his knee brushing yours under the counter. “you’re always better off here. loosen up a little.”

his hand grazes your wrist when he refills your glass, lingering just long enough to send a shiver up your spine. you should pull away. you don’t. the wine’s buzzing in your veins, and he’s looking at you like you’re prey he’s been stalking for months—smug, hungry, knowing. before you can process it, he’s rounding the counter, tugging you off the stool with that effortless strength that always made you weak.

“c’mere,” he murmurs, voice dropping an octave, and then you’re in his arms, stumbling toward the master bedroom like it’s inevitable.

the bedroom’s all rafe—dark wood, crisp white sheets, a king-sized bed that’s probably worth more than your mortgage. he’s got you pinned against it in seconds, mouth crashing into yours, all teeth and heat and desperation. his hands roam everywhere—up your sides, gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt to yank it over your head with a rough, “off. now.”

you’re too far gone to fight it, hands fumbling with his shirt buttons until he just rips it open himself, smirking down at you like he’s doing you a favor. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he mutters against your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. “always so needy for me, huh?”

“shut up,” you hiss, but it’s weak, and he knows it. his laugh is low and condescending, vibrating against your skin as he kisses down your collarbone, hands shoving your jeans down with zero patience. he’s pressing you back onto the bed, climbing over you, all broad shoulders and whiskey breath, and you hate how much you want this.

“look at you,” he says, voice thick with arrogance as he settles between your thighs, one hand pinning your wrists above your head. “divorced me, moved out, and you’re still right back here. couldn’t stay away, could you?”

you glare up at him, but he just grins, dragging his free hand down your stomach, slow and deliberate, until he’s pressing hard against your lower abdomen. “gonna give me another one,” he murmurs, eyes dark and locked on yours. “you’re mine, always will be.”

there’s no condom in sight—he doesn’t even pretend to reach for one—and you don’t stop him, too caught up in the heat of his mouth on yours, the way he’s kissing you like he owns you. he’s rough, relentless, sliding into you with a groan that’s pure smug satisfaction, like he’s proving a point. “fuck, you feel good,” he breathes, hips snapping against yours, deep and possessive. “knew you’d come running back.”

his hand stays on your stomach, pressing down just enough to make you gasp, and he smirks against your lips. “gonna fill you up, princess. make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.” he’s going harder now, all control and condescension, whispering filthy praise in your ear—“so fucking perfect for me,” “gonna look so good carrying my kid again,”—until you’re a trembling mess beneath him, clinging to his shoulders as he pushes you over the edge.

he follows right after, burying himself deep with a low, “that’s it, take it,” and you’re too blissed out to care about the consequences, lost in the haze of him—his weight, his scent, his infuriating victory.

—

you wake up alone, sheets tangled around your legs, head throbbing like a drum. the room’s too quiet, and there’s a note on the nightstand in rafe’s sloppy handwriting: “work called. coffee’s in the kitchen. you’re welcome. — r” you groan, rolling over to bury your face in the pillow, cursing yourself for last night. how does he always do this?

you drag yourself to his stupidly huge shower—marble, rainfall heads, the works—muttering about his overpriced body wash and the fact that you’re even here. you dig through his closet after, finding that old sundress of yours shoved in the back—floral, faded, a ghost of your pre-divorce life. it barely fits, clinging to your hips, and you hate how it makes you feel soft for him all over again.

you’re stomping around his mansion now, checking your son’s room—his little clothes are neat, toys in place, and it only fuels your grumbling. “fucking rafe,” you mutter, glaring at that gaudy gold lamp in the hall. “thinks he’s so fancy with his dumb rich-guy shit.” you don’t know he’s watching—sprawled in his office chair downtown, feet up, smirking at his phone as the security feed catches every word. he zooms in on you tugging at the dress, muttering about his “pretentious bullshit,” and he chuckles to himself. “still feisty,” he says, sipping his coffee. “love that about you.”

you leave in a huff, determined to put last night behind you. work’s a blur—meetings, emails, pretending you’re not replaying every second of rafe’s hands on you—and by the time you pull into your driveway, your cozy little house feels like a sanctuary. until you see him.

rafe’s leaning against his range rover, parked right in your spot, arms crossed, a handful of designer shopping bags at his feet. he’s in a crisp polo now, looking every bit the smug bastard he is, and that grin’s back—wide, knowing, maddening.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you snap, slamming your car door so hard it echoes.

he doesn’t flinch, just straightens up, sauntering over with the bags. “brought a little something for our newest addition.” he nudges the bags toward you—chanel onesies, a prada blanket, a tiny leather jacket that’s absurdly expensive. “gotta start ‘em young, right?”

your heart stops. “what are you talking about?”

he steps closer, crowding you against your car, voice dropping to that slow, patronizing drawl. “c’mon, sweetheart. you’re late, aren’t you? two weeks, by my count. don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

you freeze, mind spinning. the dates line up—last night, the wine, the no-condom recklessness—and your stomach twists. he sees it, the realization dawning, and his smirk turns downright triumphant.

“yep,” he says, popping the p like an asshole, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “guess i still got it. you and me? we’re a package deal, princess.” he leans in, lips grazing your ear as he whispers, “should’ve known you’d never really leave.”

you want to shove him, scream, anything—but he’s already strolling past you, bags in hand, letting himself into your house like it’s his. “where should i put these?” he calls over his shoulder, all casual arrogance. “nursery’s upstairs, right?”

and the worst part? you’re standing there, keys dangling uselessly, wondering how he’s still got you wrapped around his finger—and if you even mind.

[gghostwriter]

Language of Devotion

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: You caught Spencer learning a new skill—your native language

Trope: Fluff! just fluff

Warning: Language learning app inaccuracies, that’s it really. I wrote this in a frenzy and no proofreading was done

Main masterlist

At around 6:30pm, you arrived at your boyfriend’s apartment complex with takeout on hand. The whole day you’ve spent slumped on your office desk, slaving away on documents that needed your attention and wishing time would move faster. You were knackered and planned to spend the rest of the evening charging within your boyfriend’s arms. You knocked twice on his mahogany apartment door but there was no answer.

“Spence. Spence,” you called out. “You there?”

Silence.

Strange, even though it was a week night, he mentioned that no call came in for a case—strictly paperwork day. You juggled the takeout to your other hand as you reached into your bag for the spare key with slight difficulty.

As you let yourself in the apartment, a ping sound echoed in the confined space. The source of the noise coming in from the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. You quietly placed all your items on the dining table and crept towards the room at the further end of the apartment.

Heart beating loudly on your chest, you peeked inside the room and breathed a sigh of relief. It was Spencer, hunched over his desk, furiously scribbling on a notebook and his phone light reflecting on his glasses.

“Hey Spencer,” you lovingly greeted and although you’ve already announced your presence multiple times earlier on, the sound of your voice made him jump and if you didn’t know any better, a whimper of fright also escaped his lips—he’d deny this, of course.

“Hey, Y/N,” he raked his hand through his hair. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You smiled coyly. “Y’know for an agent, you’re awfully jumpy.”

He laughed, the tone of his voice warming your heart. “I was just busy with something,” his hands closing the notebook and pushing it aside, as if he didn’t want you to see what had occupied the entire capacity of his brain.

That intrigued you. Spencer wasn’t really the type to keep things hidden from you unless it’s case related and in which, he doesn’t bring it back home for him to study. When your relationship started that was one of your laid out boundary and he had respected and agreed to it—the days and nights that he’s not on call were meant to enjoy each other’s company.

You tried to creep closer, curious as to what he was doing. Being adept with your body language, Spencer tried to divert your attention—keyword ‘tried’. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving,” he rubbed his stomach for emphasis.

“I got us some pasta from the Italian place around the block,” you answered, still distracted by the secret contents of his notebook.

He wrapped his arms around you, seemingly intent on manhandling you out to the dining, before his idle phone notified with a green owl flashing on its screen and an automated voice in your first language spoke through the speaker: Dr. Reid, are you still there? Your chapter and lesson progress will not be counted should you exit.

You turned your head to watch Spencer’s cheeks turning pink.

“Spence, are you—are you using Duolingo?” A giggle escaping your lips. “To learn my first language?”

He smiled with a hint of guilt. “Uh—well, research published in Psychological Science indicates that multilingual individuals exhibit better attention control, cognitive flexibility, and problem-solving skills than monolinguals.”

“Uh-huh, that doesn’t explain why you’re learning my first language specifically.”

He caressed your cheek and smiled. “It’s the first language you learned to speak and it’s part of who you are, Y/N. I mean, you entered the US for your job as a translator,” he explained, staring into your eyes as if you were the most important thing in the world—you were, he assured, you and his mom were. “Do you know you only speak in your language when you mumble in your sleep? You dream in a language that I can’t understand and I want to know every side of you. I love you that much.”

You leaned in for a kiss, his care and adoration to you leaking out of him like honey and you were a bee unable to resist the sweetness. “That’s sweet of you, Spencer,” you pulled back and studied his hazel doe eyes as if they hold the key to the universe. “But I have to ask, does this also have something to do with my mom and dad flying in for a visit?”

He nodded. Last month you mentioned to him that your parents were visiting for four days before they fly to New York, where your other sibling was located. “I want them to get to know me and like me as your boyfriend and—and I can’t do that if we can’t understand each other.”

“They can speak English, granted it’s very much broken, but I can translate for you, Spencer, it’s no problem at all.” You assured him. “Plus, you’re a federal agent, that already makes you great in their books. My dad feels relieved that his own daughter is dating someone who could protect her and my mom already likes you—trust me on this. She hears how happy I am when I talk about you.”

“Are you sure?” He clarified again, clearly he was nervous in making a good impression. You were his first girlfriend and he wanted the relationship to last for a long time—forever really, if you’d let him.

“Yes, Spence. If you want, I can teach you the basics just to get you by. Duolingo isn’t really that accurate,” you mentioned as you pulled him out of the bedroom and into the dining. “Now, let’s eat. I’m hungry and the pasta has turned cold.”

He laughed, nodding his head, watching you prep the table as he reheated the pasta based exactly on the packaging instructions.

And on the first night of your parent’s arrival, your mother pulled you aside and smiled. “He’s a keeper, Y/N. Don’t let him get away.”

You laughed as you watched Spencer try his best to communicate with your father in his broken grammar and questionable pronunciation. “I won’t, Mom. I think he’s it for me, really.”

[wordsmeetwbb]

Two Minutes

Word count: 3.4k

Content: smut (semi-public, Daddy!Paige, sub!Azzi)

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: So it only took UConn winning the national championship to get me to finish a fic for the first time in a month (I have 5 different ones half written. my bad), but here is some Pazzi smut to celebrate! Send in your reactions bc I'm missing all my anons and my ego needs a boost. Enjoy!

________

The team had a tradition of going out for a nice dinner after a big game. They’d vote on a restaurant, get all dressed up, and go out to eat and bond with each other. Those nights were some of Paige’s favorite memories from her five years in college. Getting to eat good food and spend quality time with the people she loved- almost nothing was better than that.

Tonight, they’ve picked a nice Italian restaurant and all 14 of them are seated around a long table. Azzi is on Paige’s right, and Caroline is on her left, but Paige can’t honestly say she’s paying much attention to anyone other than Azzi.

She’s in a long sleeveless black dress, the fabric clinging to every curve and dip of her body. She even has a little makeup on for once. It’s just some mascara, a dark lip gloss, and a little bit of blush on her cheeks, but Paige is entranced. Between every sentence she contributes to the group’s conversation, her eyes return to Azzi.

Azzi’s not immune to Paige’s staring. She had started the meal by pretending to be annoyed by the attention, but the faux annoyance quickly devolved into blushing and heavy-lidded glances. Even now, after so many years of knowing the younger girl, knowing the effect she had on her still brought butterflies to her stomach. It was an intoxicating feeling.

The conversation at the table dies down slightly when their food arrives, everybody digging into their meals with all the enthusiasm and hunger that comes with being a D1 athlete. It doesn’t keep Paige’s eyes off Azzi, though.

Paige has her fork halfway to her mouth, noodles twirled haphazardly around the tongs, when she feels it. Two fingers slowly drag up the outside of her thigh over the fabric of her black shorts. Her hand freezes for a second before she remembers to shove the pasta into her mouth. Azzi’s fingers reach the crease of Paige’s hip and then reverse their movement back down her thigh. Paige’s eyes dart over to find Azzi already looking at her.

Paige raises an eyebrow, questioning Azzi’s goals. Azzi just sends her a sweet smile and goes back to her own plate of pasta, her hand leaving Paige’s leg. The blonde almost wants to argue, to reach over and replace Azzi’s hand where it had been on her thigh, but she restrains herself.

“-right, Paige?” Paige shakes her head, quickly trying to tune back into the conversation.

“What?” She asks. KK, who had been the one to speak originally, laughs at her.

“Is that pasta so good you can’t pay attention to me, P Boogers?” KK teases. Paige holds up a hand, flipping KK off quickly before a waiter walks by and shoots her a judgmental look.

“What was your question, Kamorea?” Paige raises an eyebrow, and KK grins.

“Over the summer, when you leave us” -Paige is hit with a pang of sadness before shoving it down- “I’m gonna be the one you miss the most, right? None of these other idiots have the special bond we have,” KK teases. Paige snorts.

“Yeah, right. By ‘special bond,’ do you mean your mission to bother me more than anyone else?” KK’s mouth hasn’t moved from a wide grin since the conversation started. The rest of the team has been roped into their antics by now, and various expressions of disagreement are obvious.

“KK, you can’t seriously think you’re Paige’s favorite,” Ice argues from down the table. KK sticks out her tongue at the taller girl. Then Jana is getting involved, stating that she’s actually Paige’s favorite child. She cites all the breakfasts Paige had made for her before sunrise during Ramadan, and it only makes everybody grow louder with their own counterclaims and arguments.

Amid the chaos, Azzi’s hand returns to Paige’s leg. This time, Azzi’s touch isn’t gentle or soothing. No, now Azzi’s fingers are digging into the sensitive flesh of Paige’s inner thigh, far too high up to be appropriate in such a public setting. Luckily, the white tablecloth covering the table hides the movement, but Paige can’t hide the gasp it draws from her lips.

Caroline nudges Paige from her seat next to the blonde.

“You okay, Paige?” she asks, face open with concern. Paige only gets one word into her reply before Azzi’s fingers are suddenly tracing a line straight up to the heat between Paige’s legs. Paige swallows and tries again.

“Yeah, all good. Just remembered I forgot to… do an assignment,” she lies. Caroline raises a skeptical eyebrow but shrugs and leaves Paige alone. Paige lets out a slow breath, trying to get herself under control. Then Azzi is leaning into her space, the warmth from the younger girl’s arm bleeding into Paige’s skin.

“You gotta stop, baby,” Paige mumbles, keeping her voice low so none of their teammates will overhear. Azzi tilts her head, and suddenly her hand that isn’t busy on Paige’s thigh is gripping her chin, angling Paige’s face so she’s forced to look Azzi in the eyes. Paige almost moans right there at the table. It’s not normal for Azzi to be this bold in general, but especially in public, at a table with all their teammates, surrounded by random other people eating at the restaurant. Paige squeezes her legs together tightly.

“You’re terrible at hiding your reactions to things, baby,” Azzi starts. Paige’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“Yeah, great observation. That’s why I told you to stop, ‘cause I can’t hide it.” Azzi smiles sweetly. She looks dangerous. Paige is incredibly turned on. She shifts in her chair, trying to relieve some of the ache between her thighs.

“This is your warning to make your face look normal and keep it that way,” Azzi warns. Paige tries her best to quickly school her features into a mask of composure. She’s not entirely sure she’s successful. Azzi leans a little closer, speaking softly into Paige’s ear so no one else can hear.

“I know we’ve been busy lately, but it’s been two weeks since we had sex at this point, and I’ve been wet since the press conference after the game. So I’m going to go to the bathroom to take care of this, and you’re more than welcome to come help,” Azzi murmurs. Any composure Paige had managed to achieve before is completely wiped away by the time Azzi finishes her first sentence.

“Fuck,” Paige whispers. Her face feels hot, and she knows her cheeks are bright red. Whatever the opposite of discreet is, she thinks, that’s exactly what she’s being right now. Azzi slides one finger down Paige’s jaw before letting go of her chin and leaning away. As she stands up from the table, she leans down to whisper into Paige’s ear once more.

“Oh, by the way, I’m not wearing any underwear,” she says, voice soft and teasing. Paige is gone.

It takes every ounce of Paige’s restraint to keep herself seated at the table for a few more minutes. In all honesty, it’s probably only enough time to take her departure from obvious to suspicious, but she can’t wait any longer. She can feel herself soaking through her boxers with every second she sits at the table, thinking about Azzi in the bathroom. Is she already touching herself? Dripping down her thighs from how wet she is?

It’s that mental image that drives Paige from her seat, making some half-assed excuse to Caroline about needing to use the restroom.

She makes a beeline for the restroom, knocking urgently on the door when she reaches it. It takes barely a second for Azzi to open the door and tug Paige inside before promptly locking it behind them again. Then she has the blonde pressed up against the door, and their lips are crushed together, tongues meeting hungrily when Azzi licks into Paige’s mouth.

Paige groans when Azzi brings her knee in between her legs. She grinds herself down, mouth falling open as she pants.

“Shit Az. Hang on, wait, lemme get you first, ‘kay?” Azzi looks at Paige skeptically, grinding the older girl down onto her thigh to prove a point as it rips a moan from Paige’s throat. Paige curses again.

“Come on, Az. I know you’re all worked up. Gotta be dripping down your legs by now, right? Said you’ve been wet since the post-game and I know you don’t have anything under that dress. Probably hurts, doesn’t it, baby? Let me take care of it. I’ll make it feel better,” Paige coos. Azzi’s determination collapses, giving way to the pure need she’s been feeling for days at this point.

Paige flips their position, shoving Azzi up against the sink and dropping to her knees. She pushes the fabric of Azzi’s dress up, first past her knees and then up to her stomach.

“Hold it up,” she commands. Azzi’s hands scramble to obey. “Good girl,” Paige praises. Azzi feels herself clench around nothing. She presses her thighs together to relieve the ache.

Paige isn’t having any of that, quickly shoving Azzi’s legs apart and gripping her thighs with a strength that they both know will leave bruises on Azzi’s skin. Azzi sighs out a soft breath.

“Shit. Look at that baby. I was right. You’re dripping,” Paige murmurs. Azzi leans her head back. The image of Paige on her knees in front of her, assessing everything she sees, ready to please her, is far too much for Azzi to handle right now.

“Fuck. Just touch me,” she demands. Paige’s hands leave Azzi’s skin.

“Nuh-uh,” she tuts. “I wanna take care of you, mama, but you gotta be good for me. That means not making demands without saying please,” Paige says sternly. Azzi squirms.

“Paige, we have to be fast. Everybody’s gonna notice we’re gone,” she whispers. Paige just looks up at her, eyebrows raised as if to say “And what do you want me to do about it?” Azzi swallows a groan.

“Please,  Paige. Please touch me, and please be fast about it so we don’t get caught,” she asks. Paige smiles and her hands return to Azzi’s thighs, sliding up until they find the wetness dripping from her slit.

“Fuck, honey. You need it that bad, huh?” Azzi whines and bucks her hips in an attempt to get Paige’s touch where she really needs it. Luckily, they’re pressed for time, and Paige doesn’t think it’s quite worth it to make her beg again.

Paige’s fingers meet Azzi’s swollen clit and begin to circle roughly. Azzi swears and her hips move of their own accord. Paige uses her unoccupied hand to shove Azzi more firmly against the sink. Her forearm forms a bar across her pelvis, preventing any more movements. Azzi’s head falls forward.

“Paige, please. More,” she pleads. Maybe it’s the multiple weeks without sex or the teasing Azzi had done at the table earlier or the leftover adrenaline from the game that afternoon, but Paige’s response gives away the very particular mood she’s in.

“How do you ask me the right way, mama?” Azzi’s brain buffers for a moment. She had said please. She had asked nicely for what she wanted. Then it hits her. Oh. She knows what Paige means. Her legs twitch and it has nothing to do with the fingers still circling her clit.

“Please, Daddy? Please give me more. I need it so bad, Daddy, please.” Azzi knows that was the right answer when Paige groans, her arm shoving Azzi harder into the counter, and two of her fingers slip into the younger girl’s cunt.

“Fuck. Oh god, yes, that’s so good,” Azzi breathes. The stretch of Paige’s fingers is easy, slick and smooth from how wet she is. Paige’s thumb starts up the circles on Azzi’s clit again, driving the brunette higher. 

“Please, baby, can I have your mouth?” Azzi asks. Paige pulls back, her eyebrows raised as she waits. It only takes a second before Azzi realizes her mistake.

“Please, Daddy,” she corrects. Paige smiles, removing her arm from Azzi’s torso and instead bringing it down to pet along warm brown skin.

“Good girl, Az. We gotta hurry up now, so do you think you can cum in two minutes for me? Can you do that for Daddy?” Paige murmurs. Azzi nods desperately. One of her hands comes down to fist in Paige’s hair. She doesn’t bother mentioning that it probably won’t even take that long for Paige to get her off.

Paige pulls away for only a few seconds, rummaging in her pockets, but it’s far too long for Azzi. Then Paige pulls out her phone, clicks a few things on the screen, and then hands it to Azzi. It’s the clock app. It’s a stopwatch. Azzi’s legs feel weak.

“Shit,” she mumbles.

“When I put my mouth on you, you start the timer, okay mama? You get two minutes, and when it hits two minutes exactly, you tell me and I stop. Got it? You cum in two minutes right now, or you wait until we get home later.” Azzi is nodding, unable to do anything else. Her eyes are trained on Paige’s. She can’t look away.

“Are you gonna be good for me, Az? Gonna follow directions and do what I told you to?” Paige prompts. Azzi is beyond desperate at this point. She knows they’ve already been gone from the table for far too long, but she needs to cum too bad to really put any energy into caring about what their teammates are probably guessing right now.

“Yes, yes, Daddy. I‘m gonna be good for you Daddy, gonna be your good girl.” The words are spilling from Azzi’s mouth, like the more she agrees, the faster it’ll get Paige to act. It works because before Azzi can even take a breath, Paige’s tongue is licking a strip through Azzi’s folds and humming at the way she tastes.

“Oh god,” Azzi groans, and then remembers she’s been given a task. She quickly hits start on the stopwatch, watching the numbers tick up as seconds go by.

It doesn’t take Paige long to get into her rhythm at all. Before Azzi can even get a good, stabilizing grip on the counter behind her, Paige has her face completely buried between Azzi’s thighs, tongue teasing her hole just to slide back up and suck the younger girl’s clit into her mouth. It takes thirty seconds of this for Azzi to be a whining, writhing, breathy mess.

“Please, please, so close,” she begs as the tension in her stomach grows tighter and tighter. Paige doubles her efforts, sliding two fingers back into Azzi’s cunt effortlessly, meeting no resistance. Azzi lets out a whine that’s so pathetic she’s embarrassed of it even in her current needy state.

“Gonna cum for me honey? Can feel you clenching around my fingers. You’re just dripping down my hand. So fucking dirty, Az, look at that,” Paige says and she thrusts her fingers in and out roughly. Her voice is low and hoarse as she speaks against Azzi’s clit. The vibrations, combined with Paige’s words, push Azzi even closer.

“Fuck, fuck- Daddy please, gonna cum. Can I cum? Need to cum, please Daddy, please, let me cum-” the words are spilling unbidden from Azzi’s lips in between the other noises Paige is drawing from her.

“How much time is left, mama?” Paige asks instead of answering. She keeps her fingers moving. It feels like every thrust is harder than the last. Azzi’s eyes dart down to Paige’s phone screen.

“I have thirty seconds. Please Paige. Daddy, please, please, I still have time, please let me,” Azzi begs. She’s suddenly consumed by the fear that Paige will draw this out for too long, making her beg to cum until she runs out of time, until she has to tell Paige to stop and wait until they get home after dinner. A tear rolls down her cheek as Paige’s teeth scrape lightly over her clit. Her hips buck, feeling completely and utterly overstimulated.

“Please, Daddy!” She cries once again, and she tries desperately to keep her eyes open and trained on the seconds ticking up on the stopwatch. Only twenty seconds now.

“Cum for me mama. Been such a good girl. You can cum now. Make a mess all over my hand, baby, that’s it.” Paige talks her through it as Azzi trembles through her orgasm, wave after wave ripping through her as Paige keeps moving her hand since her mouth is occupied with speaking.

“Oh god,” Azzi whimpers as she starts to come down. Paige doesn’t stop the movement of her fingers, dragging them in and out of Azzi’s pussy with obscene, slick sounds. Azzi knows better than to push Paige away right now. She’d learned quickly that when Paige was Daddy, she liked to draw out Azzi’s pleasure and overstimulation until she physically couldn’t take it anymore.

Only when Azzi is shaking and whining, one of her hands gripping tightly in Paige’s hair as her hips jump against Paige’s hand, does the blonde pull her fingers out.

Looking up to make sure Azzi is watching, Paige sucks each of her fingers into her mouth, cleaning Azzi’s wetness off every digit. Azzi lets out a soft moan, eyes fluttering shut.

“Eyes on me, honey,” Paige orders. Azzi’s eyes snap back open, once again trained on Paige’s lips. Paige’s expression softens, and she rises from her knees, licking into Azzi’s mouth gently.

“You did so good for me, baby. Gotta get cleaned up now so we can go back to the table, ‘kay? Can I clean you up?” Paige asks softly. Azzi nods, eyes still locked on Paige’s. She hasn’t been given permission to look away yet, so she doesn’t. Paige’s chest warms with pride as she grabs some paper towels, wetting them and then gently wiping them along Azzi’s thighs to clean her up. Azzi does exactly what’s expected of her and stands there obediently.

“Being such a good girl, Azzi. So good. I’m so proud of you,” Paige keeps soothing. Azzi has finally noticed how delightfully fuzzy and detached her brain feels. She’s not worried, though. Paige will take care of her.

“We’re gonna go back to the table now, okay honey?” Paige starts. Azzi’s chest tightens with panic. She can’t make conversation with her girls like this. She can’t let them see her like this, fucked dumb and submissive. The panic is obvious on her face, prompting Paige to run her hands along Azzi’s arms in an attempt to calm her.

“Hey, it’s alright. We don’t have to stay. We’re gonna go over there, I’m gonna tell everyone you don’t feel well and I’m taking you home, and then we’re gonna leave. Does that sound okay, mama?” Paige murmurs. She tilts Azzi’s chin up to meet her eyes more easily. Azzi’s expression is so open and trusting and wrecked that Paige feels something in her chest crack.

Azzi nods, eyes big and shiny. Paige presses a soft kiss to her lips, stroking a few fingers over her cheeks.

“I’m gonna take care of you, mama. Gonna get you home so you can relax and come down from this when you’re ready, okay?” Azzi’s eyebrows draw together as Paige starts to pull away, leading her to the door of the bathroom. She tugs on Paige’s sleeve to stop her.

“I don’t wanna come down,” she mumbles. Paige’s confusion turns into a smile.

“Oh, honey, are you still feeling needy?” Azzi nods, relief threading through her body. “Okay, baby. When we get home you can cum as many times as you need to. Just gotta wait until we get there. Can you be good and wait for me?” Paige asks gently. Azzi nods. Her words have abandoned her, but Paige seems to understand.

Azzi is in a pleasant daze as Paige leads her out of the bathroom, back to the table to make an excuse to their teammates, and then to her car. The daze continues as they climb the stairs to Paige’s apartment, as they enter her room, and as Paige makes Azzi shatter into a ball of pleasure many more times throughout the night. And throughout it all, Azzi feels safe and knows she is loved, and is incredibly glad they don’t have to go two weeks without sex again anytime soon.

[yeahxsurexokay13]

cat's outta the bag, lando norris

summary: after lando's win with y/n back in the mclaren garage, fans now have to go back to getting used to not seeing the actress and the driver together anymore... or not.

warnings: the 'monaco may gala' is made up, as everyone would've guessed. and i think that's it really.

this is part 2 to ideal weekend requested by @maysofi and @nan-lzzn. not sure if it's just me not knowing how to work tumblr or what but i couldn't reply to your comments /: but here you go!! hope it lives up to your guys' expectations x

y/n.y/l

Liked by landonorris and 1.200.329 others

y/n.y/l la dolce vita

view all 2.086 comments

username Just stunning ❤️

username is your diet in italy going to consist of pasta and aperol spritzes?

y/n.y/l and the occasional tiramisu when i feel fancy

username Lando liked but no comment... Back to being friends in the shadows it is

username i was also hoping for an oscar comment

username NOT YN IN ITALY THE SAME WEEK OF THE ITALIAN GP

username last time this happened we got y/n back in the mclaren garage!!! i'm not saying it'll happen again but.....

username AND we also got a Lando win!!!

username will you be there the whole week?

username you really did clear your schedule to attend every race like you told Lando, huh? 😂😂😂

username can u accidentally spoil the release date for obx4 pls

y/n.y/l missy, that's illegal!

username says the one who spoiled the release date for obx3

username that's how she knows lol

username Italy suits you so well

username the duality of y/n y/l omg

username IF SHE ACTUALLY GOES TO THE RACE ON SUNDAY I AM GOING TO COMPLETELY LOSE IT

username everybody filming y/n:

username SO REAL 😂

username Huge obsession with you!!!!

15 May 2024

ynupdates

Liked by username and 1.208 others

ynupdates 📸 | New pictures of Y/n this morning. Apparently she flew home from Italy with Lando and Oscar, who raced in the Italian Grand Prix yesterday.

view all 293 comments

username Y/NLANDO CRUMBS WHO CHEERED

username ok but where is the pic with oscar

username are we sure this isn't the plot of a rom-com?

username every time I see them together I get my hopes up again 😩

username These two need to either get back together or start hating each other for my sanity, my heart can't take this friendly exes thing

username same!! like ok it is adorable but also torture

username not us asking for a social media interaction and getting a whole ass reunion !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

username I need details ASAP

username Her not going to the race but flying back home with Lando and Oscar is the unexpected content I didn't know I needed 😲😲

username from 1 to 10 how stupid am i for thinking they might get back together

username 11 lol

username this has me screAMING

20 May 2024

mclaren

Liked by username and 2.091.134 others

mclaren An elite squad backing the papaya brigade at Monaco GP 🧡

view all 4.273 comments

username MASON FREAKING MOUNT AND PHIL FREAKING FODEN AAAAAHHHHHH someone better get me a picture of those two with lando and oscar i'm begging

username STOP EVERYTHING!!! last slide?!??

username hate when celebrities fake an interest in f1 just for the publicity

username pls y/n literally dated one of the mclaren drivers 😭😭😭 she's been involved in f1 since 2021

username and mason's mentioned liking f1 a million times in interviews

username will never get used to seeing y/n attending in the capacity of a celebrity and not as lando's partner

username not spiderman at the Monaco gp🫡🫡

tommyhilfiger Our dear Y/n ❤️

username is she there with them?

username they saw the tweets and said "hold up, let me make sure y/n actually shows up this time so fans don't come at us again"

username @/username I don't think so because I'm pretty sure Tommy works with Mercedes but it would've been hilarious

username I am legit SCREAMING with excitement!!

username what if we get another lando win with y/n there😭😭😭😭

username I really don't want to get my hopes up about y/nlando but they're making it so hard to not let delusion win

username girl i feel like i could pull myself out of this delusion anytime but i just LOVE living in it

username so like i know they're there for mclaren but i would do ANYTHING for a pic of tom holland with George

username McLaren is winning both on and off the track!!

username my favourite celebs and my favourite team together??! sign me up

26 May 2024

lando.jpg

Liked by martingarrix and 389.982 others

lando.jpg Cat's outta the bag part 2

view all 2.981 comments

username SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

username PIC 3 IS FROM MAY GALA DAY SHE WAS WITH HIM IN MONACO WE WERE RIGHT

username we do make a lot guesses based on literally nothing but some how we always (most times) end up being right

francisca.cgomes Excited for my baby to be back to being a regular at race weekends @.y/n.y/l ❤️

username cause of death: pic 1

username ON THE JPG ACCOUNT 😭😭😭

username the real question is: can lando fight??

lando.jpg i can

oscarpiastri I don't think cat was ever in the bag, mate

lando.jog we tried 🤷🏽‍♂️

username HARD LAUNCH IS ABSOLUTELY HARD LAUNCHING OMFG

username children of divorce no morEEEEE

username the 'part 2' is sending me looool but I'm so happy omg

username i don't get it could you explain?

username he wrote the same caption when he posted the first pictures with her in 2021 :)

username someone pinch me 😭😭😭😭😭 i missed them sm

carlossainz55 Happy for you, cabrón! ❤️

username parents are back together!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

charles_leclerc LET’S GOOOOO!!!! ❤️

username always had a feeling he too was a y/nlando shipper

username I'M GONNA CRY

y/n.y/l absolutely no one saw this coming

y/n.y/l i love uuuu!! <333

landonorris I love you ❤️

username AND I LOVE YOU PLEASE NEVER BREAK UP AGAIN

username it's him changing accounts for me

[sunny44]

September 30th

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Mom!Wife!reader

Warnings: pregnancy and mentions of birth

Summary: It’s Max’s birthday and he couldn’t ask for a better gift than his wife giving birth to their daughter.

Celebrating Max’s birthday had always been special, but this year felt different. The restaurant was filled with the warmth of familiar laughter. Seated at the table were Max, his parents, Victoria, and a few close friends, all smiling and sharing stories. Despite my prominent belly revealing how close we were to meeting our daughter, I felt light and content. We were in one of those cozy Italian restaurants Max loved, the air rich with the aroma of fresh pasta and fragrant herbs.

While Max chatted animatedly with his father, I noticed the sparkle in his eyes—he had always cherished these simple family moments. It made me smile. I knew how much these gatherings meant to him, especially now that we were on the brink of a new chapter in our lives.

“Are you okay, love?” he asked, noticing my gaze fixed on him.

“I’m fine,” I replied, gently caressing my belly. “She’s calm today… for now.”

He chuckled softly, placing his hand over mine to feel the subtle movement of our baby. “She knows it’s my birthday. She’s being kind to me.”

The evening unfolded beautifully, framed by joy and love. I felt complete. It wasn’t just being surrounded by the people we loved but knowing that soon, we’d be holding our daughter in our arms. As plates came and went, conversations flowed effortlessly. Victoria and Sophie, Max’s mom, exchanged ideas about the baby’s nursery. I chimed in occasionally, but mostly, I observed, lost in thoughts about how it would feel to see Max with our daughter, how he would step into his role as a father.

Suddenly, I felt a slight tightening in my belly. It was barely noticeable, a subtle pressure. I didn’t think much of it. I’d felt a few of these small contractions before, and the doctor assured me they were normal in the final weeks of pregnancy. Taking a deep breath, I shifted in my seat, catching Sophie’s warm smile. “You’re glowing, Y/n. You don’t even look like you’re so close to giving birth.”

“Thank you,” I laughed. “But I think that could change any moment now.”

A few minutes later, another tightening came, stronger this time. I tried to mask it, but my hands instinctively went to my belly, and this time, Max noticed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He squeezed my hand, concern evident in his voice.

“Yes… I think so.” But deep down, I knew something was changing.

As the minutes passed, the contractions became more frequent. At a certain point, I could no longer hide my discomfort. The pain wasn’t unbearable yet, but it was growing more intense and consistent.

“Y/n, you’re starting to look pale,” Victoria commented, her worried eyes on me.

I sighed, trying to stay calm. “I… I think it’s happening.”

Max froze for a second, and I saw the moment he processed my words. “You mean now?”

I nodded, biting my lip as another contraction hit, sharper this time. “Yes, now.”

The restaurant, which had been buzzing with laughter and conversation moments before, grew quiet around our table. All eyes turned to me and Max, who was now on his feet, ready to take charge.

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” he said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a mix of excitement and nerves.

The drive to the hospital felt like it lasted forever and passed in the blink of an eye all at once. I sat in the car, Max by my side, gripping my hand tightly while trying to focus on the road. The contractions continued, each one stronger than the last, making the reality of becoming parents all the more tangible.

When we finally arrived, a medical team swiftly led us to a delivery room. Max stayed by my side the entire time, holding my hand and murmuring words of encouragement. By then, I could barely think clearly. The pain was intense, but all I could focus on was the thought of seeing our daughter’s face.

Time lost meaning as the process unfolded. Sometimes, it felt like hours; other times, it blurred into a series of contractions, deep breaths, and Max’s voice reassuring me that I was doing great.

During one of the most intense moments, I looked at Max. He was sweating almost as much as I was, his face concentrated, but his eyes shone with emotion. “You’re amazing, love. We’re almost there,” he said with a smile that, despite the tension, gave me strength.

And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the sound that would change our lives forever: the soft, sweet cry of our daughter.

She was born at 11:59 PM, in the last minute of Max’s birthday.

Tears streamed down my face as the doctors cleaned her up and placed her in my arms. She was perfect—tiny, delicate, and absolutely perfect. Max, beside me, gazed at her with an expression I’d never seen before—a mix of pure love, awe, and reverence. He kissed my forehead, then gently kissed our daughter’s head.

“She was born on my birthday,” he whispered, almost in disbelief. “The best gift I could ever ask for.”

I smiled, exhausted but utterly happy. “I think she wanted to make sure this would be an unforgettable day for you.”

He laughed softly, his eyes still locked on her. “I’ll never forget this.”

The next moments passed like a dream. Max held our daughter in his arms with a tenderness that surprised me, considering how fierce and relentless he was on the racetrack. In that moment, he was just a dad, completely in love with his little girl.

Our family, waiting anxiously in the hospital lobby, was soon notified. They quickly joined us, their faces glowing with smiles and tears of joy. Sophie cried as she held her granddaughter, and Jos looked so proud, seeing his son step into fatherhood.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Sophie asked, her eyes sparkling as she looked at us.

Max and I exchanged a glance. We had discussed a few names but wanted to wait for the right moment. I looked at our daughter, and suddenly, it was clear. “Eva,” I said softly. “Eva Verstappen.”

Max smiled, nodding. “Perfect.”

As the night turned into early morning, the hospital grew quieter. I lay in bed, Max beside me, Eva sleeping peacefully in his arms. The silence was comfortable, filled with peace.

“I can’t believe she was born on my birthday,” Max repeated, still in awe. “It couldn’t have been more perfect.”

I chuckled softly, brushing my fingers against his cheek. “I think she wanted to make sure you’d always have this special bond.”

“I always knew this would be the best birthday ever,” he replied, kissing Eva’s tiny head with a tenderness that melted my heart.

As sleep finally overtook me, I knew without a doubt that our lives had changed forever. And I couldn’t have been happier.

Bonus scene!

Maxverstappen Instagram stories

“Today I received the best birthday gift ever, my wife gave birth to our baby girl and make these birthday the best. Both mama and baby are great”

[takimakiiiii]

did you order pasta, miss?

part1! to the cosmic girl records 

!Cosmic Girl Records!

Summary: going to italy for the italian gp and getting pasta spilled all over you by a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card that year 

fc!: random girls on pinterest <3

olliebearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader

a/n: reader own a german shepherd dog called mickey. don’t pay attention to any of the dates, likes etc on the insta and twitter posts i got lazy. also this is my first post in this sort of category? u catch my drift? 😭 i do write but i rather try this out first anyways enjoy and please leave me feedback it’s always appreciated!

disclaimer: there are some sensitive comments and things said that may offend some people, they are just included for humour and feel free to scroll away any time

all photos go to their rightful owners and all of them are found on pinterest!

warnings: swearing, telling people to die (in a joking way), reader and the 2019 rookies have friendly banter where offensive things may be said idk if there’s any other ones but lmk if there is

word count!: 1.6k words i think? 😭😭

liked by landonorris, georgerussell64, alex_albon and 8,121,801 others 

view 7,632 comments 

unfortunatelyy/n: i’ve got 99 problems and going to italy has solved 98 of them 

tagged: bestie1 

 User1: Who’s she?

 User 2: She’s good friends with the 2019 rookies and the rest of the grid bit she’s been besties with Lando forever, she’s a couple of years younger than him though

 user7: she’s studying mechanical engineering though in NYC but she travels a lot to support the 2019 rookies

 Bestie1: um pic credits please 🙄

 unfortunatelyy/n: geez okay bossy 😤

 landonorris: i better get a post when i win in Monza 

 georgerussel64: as if, you’d be lucky to even finish the race with 4 tires still intact

 landonorris: @carmenmundt come and get your child. He’s escaped the psych ward again 

 georgerussel64: you’re just bitter I’ve got more wins than you

 landonorris: blocked, reported and my mom’s calling your mom 

 unfortunatelyy/n: stop fighting in my comments section girls 

 User3: she cooked ya’ll 

 user5: lando and y/n are so cute 

 user6: be so fr rn 

user4: love how she and the 2019 rookies are still so close 

liked by unfortunately/n

 alex_albon: you’ll be cheering for me in Monza right y/n? *sharpening knives 

 unfortunatelyy/n: WOAH 

 lilymhe: i don’t know him 

 alex_albon: HEY 

 unfortunatelyy/n: @lilymhe it’s always been you and me bae 🥰

 alex_albon: stop stealing my girlfriend

 unfortunatelyy/n: no.🫶

liked by lilymhe, carmenmmundt, landonorris, bestie1, alex_albon and 6,795,973 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: shoutout to the 6ft brown haired boy who spilled pasta all over my new red dress, i hate you🖕

view 3,789 comments 

 landonorris: HAHA.

 unfortunatelyy/n: i hope you DNF this weekend 

 georgerussel64: you tell him y/n 

unfortunatelyy/n: 😐

user1: NOT THE RED DRESS 

user2: curse you, brown haired boy 

 olliebearman: sorry for the dress 😔

 user3: OLLIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE 

 user4: this was not on my 2024 bingo card. 

 landonorris: don’t be sorry, I would’ve done the same 

 unfortunatelyy/n: i hate you both 🖕🖕

 user9: she's so petty I love her 😍

 user5: ollie being the boy who spilled pasta on y/n is wild 

 User6: fr like what in the multiverse is this 😭

 lilymhe: come to me and i’ll buy you as many dresses as you like 😍

 unfortunatelyy/n: omw honey 🤭

 alex_albon: I- 

 georgerussel64: you just gotta let it happen mate.

liked by landonorris, olliebearman, georgerussel64, alex_albon, oscarpiastri and 9,379,543 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: okay, what are thinking for this weekend, ya’ll?

view 8,832 comments 

 user1: not ollie in the likes

 User2: he’s down bad, maybe the pasta spill wasn’t on accident 😏

 user3: i mean do u blame him, i would trip over if i saw her too 

 alex_albon: “ya’ll” you’ve been spending way too much time with logan 

 unfortunatelyy/n: god bless america‼️ 🇺🇸🦅🗣️

unfortunatelyy/n: WTF IS A KILOMETRE 🔥🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅🦅

 Landonorris: TRAITOR, IS THAT AN OSCAR CAP I SEE 🫵

 unfortunatelyy/n: i’ve always been an oscar girlie at heart

 oscarpiastri: as it should be 👍

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 landonorris: i see how it is. betrayed by my two best friends, the world’s full of fake people isn’t it.

 unfortunatelyy/n: oh please stop being so dramatic, don’t pretend u only use me for my fame

 landonorris: GASP. how could you say such a thing 

 georgerussell64: pretty sure 90% of your followers follow you because of her 

 landonorris: wow. low blow mate. 

 unfortunatelyy/n: where’s the lie tho? 🤔

 landonorris: alexa, play traitor by olivia rodrigo 

user7: here for the love-hate relationship between y/n and the 2019 rookies 

 lewishamilton: roscoe says you should go for mercedes in monza  

 unfortunatelyy/n: Mercedes it is! 

 landonorris: never in my 24 years of living on earth have i ever felt so betrayed. 

 unfortunatelyy/n: roscoe’s wishes are my commands 🤷‍♀️

 georgerussel64: amen sister 🙌🗣️

 unfortunatelyy/n: get out of my comment section Russell

user4: the williams t-shirt goes hard tho 

user5: oh to be y/n *sigh 

 olliebearman: how about ferrari? 

 unfortunatelyy/n: hmm, we’ll see, pasta boy

 user9: THE GASP I GUSP

 user10: pasta boy 😭

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and 5,773,878 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: congratulations, ig 😒

tagged landonorris 

view 13,638 comments 

 landonorris: really? you had to use those photos? 

 unfortunatelyy/n: why? What’s wrong with them? I think you look very macho, especially in the first and third pic. 

 landonorris: i think i just lost a piece of my manhood. 

user6: the three reasons i love y/n: number 1: because she’s hot and sexy, number 2. I wish I was her, number 3. Because of the lando content she gives us 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

user4: THE THIRD PIC IM DYING 

user5: always leave it to y/n to humble lando after a win 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 user9: GUYS. Y/N WAS WEARING A FERRARI JACKET IN THE PADDOCK TODAY 

 user3: WHAT

 user9: and so it begins. 

 user13: I CALLED IT.

 user17: excusez moi? 

 user32: I SCREAMED. 

 lewishamilton: i told roscoe you wore a ferrari jacket today. let’s just say that he doesn't want to be seeing  you in the foreseeable future

 unfortunatelyy/n: WAIT NOOO

 user12: not lewis exposing her 😭

 unfortunatelyy/n: ROSCOE PLEASE FORGIVE ME 

 lewishamilton: he says you can only make it up with a playdate with mickey 

 unfortunatelyy/n: omw with mickey 🏃‍♀️‍➡️

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, olliebearman and 9,736,389 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: my babies 🥰 dog playdate soon anyone?

tagged lewishamilton 

view 8,382 comments 

 charles_leclerc: leo says you have officially been demoted to 2nd favourite aunt 

 unfortunately/n: WAIT NO WHO’S FIRST

 pierregasly: bitch it’s me.

 unfortunatelyy/n: @francisca.cgomes come and get your boyfriend he’s bullying me 

 charles_leclerc: it’s actually @lilymhe

 unfortunatelyy/n: TRAITORS.

 user1: anyone else been here since Mickey was a puppy?

 user2: ikr he’s so big now its making me cry 😭

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 lewishamilton: @pierregasly @charles_leclerc @unfortunatelyy/n @olliebearman @carlossainz55 dog playdate next week?

 landonorris: can i come too

 unfortunatelyy/n: no dog no invite 

 landonorris: @oscarpiastri can we buy a dog

 oscarpiastri: what. 

 user3: i have a feeling that we should get used to seeing ollie in the likes more often now

 user4: homeboy’s whipped fr 

 user5: if only he had the confidence to ask her out 😔

 user10: GUYS RELAX THEY’RE JUST FRIENDS 

user9: mickey’s the real f1 star fr 

 olliebearman: @unfortunatelyy/n how about instead of a dog playdate, i take you out on a real date? 

 user6: MY BOY’S FINALLY SHOOTING HIS SHOT 

 user7: GO GO GO GO GO 

user11: CHAT IS THIS REAL

 unfortunatelyy/n: will there be any pasta involved? 🤨

 olliebearman: no promises 

 unfortunatelyy/n: hmmm. . . text me. 

 landonorris: nO

user8: LETS FREAKING GOOO 

user11: THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL

user9: my life is complete, i can finally die in peace 

user10: i’m sorry i doubted yall 😔

liked by lilymhe, carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux, iamrebeccad and 6,429,765 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: what do we think guys? and don’t worry, there was no pasta involved 

tagged olliebearman

view 11,382 comments 

user11: phew, no pasta, really dodged a bullet there 👍

 landonorris: WOAH WOAH WOAH HANG ON A MINUTE 

 unfortunatelyy/n: what do you want, mom? 

 landonorris: GASP. Is that grammar I see? what has he done to you 😨

 unfortunatelyy/n: seriously? 

 landonorris: @georgerussel64 and @alex_albon back me up here 

 georgerussell64: unfortunately he’s right, no boyfriends on our watch 

 unfortunatelyy/n: then look away. 

 georgerussell64: @landonorris . . .  she got us there.

 landonorris: @alex_albon?

 alex_albon: lily is forcing me to stay out of it 😔 

 unfortunatelyy/n: HA. EVERYONE LAUGH 🤣

 charles_leclerc: 🤣

 lewishamilton: 🤣

 maxverstappen1: 🤣

 carlossainz55: 🤣

 danielricciardo: 🤣

 landonorris: wow. 

 user5: all the boys being so bitter and not liking the post 😭

 user9: but them still jumping in to bully lando any chance they get 

 olliebearman: did you seriously just ask your 8 million followers what they think about me 😰

 unfortunatelyy/n: it’s actually 9 million but . . .yes 😅

user3: everyone out here wishing they had older brothers just like the grid to be protective over them 😔

liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

liked by olliebearman, lilymhe, bestie1, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and 2,938,282 others 

unfortunatelyy/n: italy you will be missed, where to next?

tagged olliebearman

 olliebearman: pic creds please 🙄

 unfortunatelyy/n: okay okay calm down pal 🥱

 user1: pal 😭 i can’t 

user7: “how to be as beautiful as y/n no borax no glue” 

 user2: IS THAT THE DATE OLLIE TOOK HER ON 

 user3: screaming, crying, throwing up all at once

 user4: i can’t decide whether i want to be ollie or y/n 

 liked by unfortunatelyy/n 

 bestie1: you’ve forgotten about me already i see. I HATE YOU, YOU’RE THE WORST.

 unfortunatelyy/n: I’M LITERALLY OUT BUYING CHEETOS FOR U GIRL 

user6: HELP THEIR FRIENDSHIP IS HILARIOUS 

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

 landonorris: hmmm, i think i dislike the first pic

 unfortunately/n: so petty geez 🙄

 landonorris: we’re literally the same person 

 unfortunately/n: die ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous 😍 loved seeing you in Monza! 

 unfortunatelyy/n: marry me 🥰

 charles_leclerc: 🤨 

 olliebearman: 🤨

 unfortunatelyy/n: SO JUDGY GEEZ 

 alexandrasaintmleux: they’ll never accept us 😔

 unfortunatelyy/n: killing them is always an option 😌 🔪

 charles_leclerc: that’s murder. 

 unfortunatelyy/n: i’m aware 😒 

user5: HELP SHE’S GONE CRAZY

a/n: thank you for reading if you finished it! have a lovely day xxx

[bohemianrapshawty]

Missed Signals

Dr. Robby had always prided himself on his ability to read people. In the fast-paced world of the ER, it was a skill that had come in handy more times than he could count. But when it came to you, his abilities seemed to fail him completely.

From the moment you started working alongside him, Robby was hooked. It wasn’t just your professionalism or your skill—it was the way you moved with a quiet confidence, how you greeted every patient with warmth, and how you never seemed to lose your calm amidst the chaos. It was your smile, your laugh, the little way you always seemed to hum under your breath when things got really busy.

Robby couldn’t help himself. He’d catch himself watching you, making excuses to be near you, dropping by the nurses’ station just to hear your voice or to see you fidget with the small gold cross around your neck—a gesture you didn’t even seem to notice you did.

And so, like any lovesick fool, he tried to drop subtle hints. So subtle, in fact, that even *he* was surprised at how much he’d been able to hide his feelings behind a cool, professional exterior.

"Hey, Y/N. I’m thinking of checking out that new Italian place down the street. You like pasta, right?" Robby said one day, leaning against the counter casually, hoping for a spark of interest. "It’d be nice to get away from here, you know, after a crazy shift."

You glanced up from the patient chart you were filling out, your eyes bright with the usual warmth. "Oh, I love pasta! But I think tonight’s a little too hectic for me. Maybe next time."

Maybe next time. Robby couldn’t help but smile a little, even though the small sting of disappointment lingered in his chest. He didn’t give up, though. He wasn’t the type to take rejection, or in this case, polite disinterest, lying down.

The next day, he decided to try again. This time, he saw you walking out of the break room with your coffee cup in hand, your usual focus on the next task at hand. Robby leaned against the doorframe, pretending to adjust his coat, giving you his best nonchalant grin.

"So, I was thinking," he said, his voice light and playful, "We’ve got a couple hours off coming up… What do you say we hit that new coffee shop down the street? I’ve heard they make the best espresso in the city."

You paused, your eyes brightening for a moment, and Robby’s heart skipped a beat. He thought for sure this time you were going to say yes. You chewed your lip for a second before responding, and Robby’s hopes soared.

"Sounds amazing," you said with a smile that sent warmth rushing through him. "But, I’m actually on call tonight. So, I’ll probably be tied up here again." You tilted your head apologetically. "Maybe another time?"

There it was again. *Maybe another time*. But Robby couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips, and you noticed. You always noticed everything.

“Hey, Robby,” you said softly, stepping closer with a warm smile that made his heart ache. “You know, I think you're the only one who doesn’t give up on me when I turn down all these invitations.” Your eyes sparkled with amusement, and Robby found himself blushing under your gaze.

He chuckled, trying to cover up his growing nerves with humor. “Well, I’m persistent. And besides, I figure you’ve got to be busy, but eventually, we’ll find a time. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” His voice took on a teasing tone. “Unless you want me to stop offering.”

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “No, don’t stop offering. I’m just… always working.” Then, in a quieter voice, almost as if you were letting him in on a secret, you added, “I don’t really have time for anything else these days.”

The way you said it made Robby pause. There was something almost wistful in your voice, as though you weren’t just talking about work, but about life in general. And Robby—who had spent the better part of the last few months noticing every little detail about you—wondered if maybe, just maybe, you were feeling the same way he was.

That evening, Robby had another idea. If he couldn’t get you to go out for a meal or coffee, maybe he could do something else that would be a little more subtle, yet just as meaningful.

He found you in the hallway later that night, a stack of patient files in your arms. You were walking quickly, head down, and Robby couldn’t help but notice the way you rubbed your thumb over the little gold cross around your neck—something you did whenever you were stressed, something Robby had quietly observed on countless occasions.

He stepped up beside you, a casual smile on his face. “You’re going to wear yourself out, you know that?”

You glanced up, startled for a moment, before relaxing when you saw it was him. “I’m fine. Just a long shift.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Robby said, his tone gentle. “But you’ve been going nonstop for hours. Maybe you should take a break before you burn out. How about we go get that coffee? You’ve got to be running on empty.”

You blinked, your expression softening for a second. “I… I could use a little break, actually. And I guess I’m always saying no to you. It wouldn’t hurt to take you up on it this time.”

Robby’s heart leaped in his chest. He couldn’t believe it. This was *finally* happening.

“I’ll let you pick the place,” you said with a grin. “But only if you promise to stop offering every time. You might give me a complex.”

Robby laughed, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. “Deal. I’ll even let you choose what we order.”

Later that night, you and Robby found yourselves at the little coffee shop down the street. It was quieter than the hospital, the dim lighting casting a calm glow around the cozy tables. Robby smiled across from you, watching you laugh and relax in a way he’d never seen before. There was something so natural about being with you outside the hospital walls, and as he listened to you talk about everything—your favorite books, your love for traveling, the things you dreamed of doing someday—he realized he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he had admitted.

You took a sip of your drink and leaned back in your chair, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “You know, Robby, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken the time to get to know anyone like this. Life’s just been… too busy.”

Robby couldn’t resist. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low but sincere. “Well, I’m glad you’re taking the time now. I’ve been pretty smitten with you for a while. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and for a brief moment, Robby thought maybe he had pushed too far. But then, you smiled—genuinely, warmly—and his heart stuttered.

“Robby,” you said softly, “I’ve been noticing you too. I guess I was just waiting for the right moment.”

And just like that, all the subtle hints, all the missed signals between you two, faded away into nothing. It was no longer about trying to get the other person to see what was there. It was about finally realizing what had always been in front of you both.

“Guess it’s a good thing we didn’t give up on each other, huh?” Robby said with a grin, feeling lighter than he had in months.

You smiled, your eyes sparkling. “Guess so.”

And from that moment on, it wasn’t about hints or missed opportunities anymore. It was just you and him, finally seeing each other the way you were always meant to.

[koiiiji]

lookism x teaching them your language

author’s note ; someone here is specially for @imtomiee 💋 also correct me if i used some words wrong way!!

tw ; swearing words on different languages! fluff

GOO KIM — RUSSIAN

evening air was cool, but the vibe in the room was anything but. you were lounging on the couch with Goo, your legs tangled together in a comfortable mess, a playful banter going back and forth as it often did when the two of you were together. Goo, ever the curious one, had recently taken an interest in learning a few words from your native language—russian.

of course, knowing Goo, it wasn’t the polite phrases he wanted to learn.

“so, what’s the next one?” Goo asked, his signature smirk plastered on his face as he leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. you raised an eyebrow, thinking for a moment before deciding to go all in. “alright - alright, how about this one — poshel nahui.”

Goo’s eyes widened slightly, intrigued by the sound of the words. he tried repeating it, stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables. “po…poshel nahui?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt. “gosh, babe, you’re doing such a great job,” you teased, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “you sure you don’t know russian? or maybe in a previous life been russian?”

Goo’s grin widened, clearly pleased with your praise. “really? what does it mean?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. you tilted your head, giving him a sly smile. “it’s like… sending someone on the dick.”

Goo’s eyes lit up with amusement, and he laughed, the sound rich and warm in the small space. “but i don’t want anyone else except you on my dick!” he declared, his tone both playful and his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. you rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him away, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “it’s not necessarily yours, hun,” you quipped, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “you can send them on Gun’s dick.”

the smirk that spread across Goo’s face was devilish, and he let out a low chuckle, clearly entertained by the idea. “oh, i’m definitely using that one,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in to capture your lips in a brief, but heated kiss.

PARK JUNGUN — ARABIC

you and Jungun were lounging on the couch, both scrolling through delivery apps, the familiar debate simmering just below the surface.

“how about we order Italian tonight?” you suggested, your mouth watering at the thought of creamy risotto and cheesy pizza. Jungun’s eyebrows shot up, and he leaned back with a sly grin. “italian? seriously? we just had that last week. i want sushi,” he declared, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

you crossed your arms, feeling a familiar annoyance bubble up. “but sushi is so… predictable! italian has variety, flavor, and soul! plus, you can’t deny that a good lasagna is perfect comfort food.”

he chuckled, shaking his head dismissively. “comfort food? you mean your heavy, cheesy dishes that weigh you down? sushi is light and refreshing. it’s an experience, not just a meal.”

“an experience that costs a fortune! at least with Italian, you get value for your money. you can’t tell me sushi is worth the price when half of it is just rice!” you could feel your cheeks flush, but you refused to back down. “rice is the foundation of life! and sushi is an art form — i can’t believe you’re comparing it to some pasta dish,” he shot back, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “you’re just being stubborn because you can’t appreciate the finer things.”

“finer things? like overpriced fish that’s raw? you’re just being defensive because you’re japanese!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “admit it, you’re biased!”

“bias? me? i just have better taste!” he retorted, a smirk plastered on his face. “you’ll come around one day; i’ll make sure of it.”

“yeah, right! you’re impossible!” you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “you’re like a child throwing a tantrum over his favorite toy.”

“child? at least i know what i want, unlike you, who can’t make up her mind!” he shot back, leaning closer, his arrogance palpable.“make up my mind? this is about you being stubborn! you’ll never admit when you’re wrong!” you felt your heart race, both from the argument and the undeniable chemistry between you. he leaned back, arms crossed, a smug look on his face. “and you’ll be the one begging for sushi sooner or later. just wait.”

“okay, how about a compromise?” you proposed, trying to mediate the escalating tension. “let’s do Italian tonight, and sushi tomorrow. you’ll still get your fix!”

for a moment Gun pretended to ponder. “hmm, let me think… nope! i’m not settling for anything less than sushi tonight.” you sighed dramatically, an amused smile creeping onto your lips. “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?”

“stubborn? no, i’m just determined,” Gun replied, his arrogance unwavering. after a few more rounds of playful banter, you finally relented, knowing how stubborn he could be. “fine! we’ll have sushi tonight, but only because i can’t deal with your arrogance any longer.”

“yeah, that’s right” he exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out his phone to place the order.

as the two of you settled back on the couch, the tension dissolved, and a comfortable silence fell between you, you found yourself leaning against him, his warmth comforting. you felt a rush of affection and couldn’t help but murmur into his shoulder, “ya5rab baito sho habito” Jungun pulled back slightly, a confused look on his face. “bitch, tf you just said?”

with a calm smile, you leaned your head against his shoulder and whispered, “literal translation: may your house get ruined i love you.”

he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re impossible!” but he tightened his embrace around you, pulling you closer.

“sometimes, you can be so stubborn,” you teased, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eye.

“and yet, you love me for it,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “of course i do,” you shot back, your heart full as you nestled deeper into his warmth.

JIN HOBIN — GERMAN

it was just another chaotic day at school, the halls buzzing with the usual chatter of students. Hobin strode through the corridors, his presence commanding attention. he was used to the whispers and glances, but today, something else caught his eye.

in a quiet corner, you sat on a bench, phone pressed to your ear, animatedly talking to a friend. as you hung up, Hobin approached, curiosity piqued. “hey, what were you talking about?”

you looked up, slightly flustered. “just my friend. nothing important.” he smirked, leaning against the wall. “you speak german, huh?”

“yeah,” you replied, trying to downplay it.

“cool. can you teach me some swear words?” he asked, his tone teasing. you shrugged, playing along. “sure. like ‘Verdammtes Miststück.’” [fair-DAM-tes MIST-shtook]

Hobin raised an eyebrow. “what does that mean?”

“it means ‘damn jerk,’” you explained, a small smile creeping onto your face. “damn, that’s spicy,” he laughed. “i might have to start using that.”

just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. you stood up, ready to head to class. but as you walked away, something clicked in Hobin’s mind. he suddenly remembered that phrase — that phrase. the memories flooded back, taking him by surprise.

“wait!” he yelled, sprinting after you. “bitch, you called ME that name??” you turned around, feigning innocence. “what? i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“don’t play dumb! you always called me that when we were enemies!” his voice was a mix of disbelief and playful frustration. “you used it all the time!”

you shrugged, trying to suppress a grin. “i really don’t remember.”

“seriously?” he exclaimed, a smirk forming on his lips. “you were always throwing that word around at me! you can’t just forget that!”

“maybe i just didn’t like you,” you shot back, trying to keep a straight face.

“come on! admit it!” Hobin insisted, laughter bubbling up despite himself. “admit what?” you teased, enjoying the banter. “that i cursed at my rival? sounds a bit dramatic.”

“dramatic? you were practically a german swearing machine!” he laughed, shaking his head. “i can’t believe i’m just now connecting the dots.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his animated reaction, feeling a thrill at the memories of your rivalry. “well, maybe i did. but you know what? it’s not like I’m going to do it again.”

Hobin stepped closer, his expression playful yet intense. “oh, I’m counting on it. you’re just too fun to mess with.”

with that, he gave you a wink and turned to leave, a confident swagger in his step. you watched him go, heart racing. it was strange how easily the tension from those rivalry days transformed into something more intriguing, something that hinted at new beginnings. as you walked to class, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this playful back-and-forth was just the start of something.

RYOHEI KURODA — ENGLISH

you were curled up on the couch, engrossed in your book, when your adorably clueless boyfriend, flopped down beside you with a dramatic sigh.

“y/n! teach me english!” he whined, resting his head on your shoulder. you sighed, trying to focus on your reading. “Ryohei, we’ve been at this for hours. you need to practice more!”

“but i want to learn from you! you’re the best teacher!” he clung to your arm, his eyes wide and pleading.

after 5 minutes of him being annoying you finally, you gave in, exasperated but amused. “alright, fine! but i’m teaching you something cool.” you leaned closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “say ‘bastard.’ it’s a fun word!”

“bas-tard,” he repeated like a child who just reached to something that was once forbidden, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“good! just don’t overdo it, okay?” you warned, chuckling.

later that day, Ryohei strolled into work, his confidence soaring. he spotted Eugene, who was busy with paperwork. with playful boldness, Ryohei called out, “hey, you bastard!”

Eugene blinked, stunned, while Ryohei burst into laughter, clearly unfazed by the shocked expression on his boss's face.

you could only imagine the chaos that would ensue. mortified yet secretly amused, you buried your face in your hands. Ryohei might be a handful, but he sure knew how to make life interesting — and you loved him for it.

bonus ; later that day Ryohei was feeling bold again. he spotted Kenta and, with a playful grin, shouted, “bastard!”

Kenta’s expression dropped, and he looked genuinely upset. “Ryohei, that’s not cool,” he said quietly. Ryohei’s smile faded as he felt a pang of guilt, especially since Kenta was usually so quiet. Ryohei took a deep breath and approached him.

“Magami, what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone sincere.

Kenta shrugged, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just... i know english better than you, and it was disrespectful.”

Ryohei’s heart sank at his words. “brooo wdym im really sorry. i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined, shaking Kenta’s shoulder.you stepped in, sensing the tension. “how about we all go get milkshakes? it’ll be on me..”

SEO SEONGEUN — POLISH

smooth purr of Seongeun’s Rolls-Royce filled the quiet atmosphere as he drove through the city, one hand casually resting on the steering wheel while the other hung over the gear shift. you sat beside him, gazing out the window, trying to keep yourself occupied while Seongeun focused on the road. you had been living in Korea for a while now, and while your korean was pretty good, there were still moments where your native polish slipped out, especially when you were irritated or frustrated.

however, it had been one of those days, and your mood was already on edge. the final straw was when your phone buzzed with an annoying notification about the broken coffee machine back at home. you groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration as the stream of oolish curses tumbled from your lips.

“ja pierdolę...” you muttered, trying not to dwell on your frustration.

without taking his eyes off the road, Seongeun raised an eyebrow, his tone casual but curious. “what do you mean babe?”

you blinked, glancing over at him. “what?”

he briefly glanced at you with a smirk before focusing back on the road. “the stuff you always mumble when you're annoyed. you’ve been doing it for weeks, and I don’t get it.”

you flushed a little, realizing he’d been picking up on your muttered polish rants this whole time. “oh! that... yeah, i tend to mutter in polish when i’m emotional. it’s like a habit.”

Seongeun’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, but there was an amused glint in his eye. “and what exactly are you saying?” a small smile tugged at your lips. “you wanna learn some polish, babe?” you teased, poking his arm. he scoffed lightly but couldn’t hide his smirk. “i’m just curious. what do you say when you’re pissed?”

you hesitated, suddenly feeling shy about explaining. “well... i usually say ‘ja pierdolę’ or ‘kurwa mać.’” your cheeks flushed deeper as you tried to explain. “the first one means ‘fuck it,’ like when something goes wrong. and the second one… um... direct translation means... uh... ‘fuck your mother.’” you winced slightly, knowing how it sounded out of context.

Seongeun let out a low laugh, shaking his head “yeah, fuck that bitch. so what about the translation?”

you chuckled softly, your hand covering your mouth as you tried to find the words. “baby, i just told you! it doesn’t mean that literally. it’s more like saying ‘FUCK IT!!’ but with extra aggression.”

Seongeun laughed again, his deep voice rumbling through the car as he reached over to squeeze your knee affectionately. “gotcha, babe. polish frustrations... i get it.”

just as you relaxed, a mischievous glint appeared in Seongeun’s eyes. “so, what’s the deal with that beaver stuff? do you guys have beef with beavers or something? how do you say it? bo-bober? bober kurva?”

you stared at him for a moment, utterly blindsided by his sudden question. then, it hit you, and you couldn’t help but let out a snicker. your heart swelled with pride at his attempt.

“babe...” You blinked dramatically, pretending to wipe away proud slavic tear. “you’re trying to get it right. i’m so proud of you!”

he smirked, his gaze still fixed on the road, though you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes. “whatever makes you happy, baby. but seriously, tell me more about this beaver meme.”

[lovelytsunoda]

the way you kiss me works each time // lance stroll

summary: sexual innuendos and a scrabble board make for a flirty and cosy afternoon

pairing: lance stroll x wife! reader

warnings: 18+, no smut but it’s very suggestive and very flirty (while being cosy at the same time!!)

notes: can be read as a part of the ‘welcome to wherever you are’ verse or as a stand-alone, returning to an idea I had in part two (spill the wine). there's something about this whole concept that just makes me weak in the knees.

the sun was low in the sky as it threatened to dip behind the clouds. the breeze was gentle, coming over the balcony of the villa where the newlyweds were staying, overlooking the ocean as they basked in each other's company.

a scrabble board was spread out on the table in front of them, the low hum of the tv from the sitting room playing an italian travel programme. they had spent the day on a walking tour of capri, before spending the afternoon in an authentic italian pasta making class, and were now relaxing their tired bodies with cold drinks and a game of scrabble.

"and i play 'clever' for eleven points." she hummed, laying the tiles down and connecting them to lance's previous word.

"nice one." lance grinned, taking a sip of his mocktail. "but i think my word is better."

the grin on his face was palpable, a giddy sort of excitement radiating off her husband as he shook the wooden tiles in his hand, rearranging the letters on the board, until, lo and behold, lance stroll had played the word 'penis' for seven points.

she giggled, hiding her face behind her hand. the smooth australian lilt to her voice was like a symphony to lance's ears. "you are such a dork."

the board was full of such words. lance had gotten the brilliant idea that cleverly played scrabble tiles could be considered a way to flirt, filling the board with words like 'penis' and 'boobies' as if he was a teenaged boy again.

all in all, y/n actually found it very endearing. it was the kind of thing that had her heart swelling with love, her limbs going all funny. the kind of thing that reminded her just how much she loved her husband, and just how loved she was by the people around her.

"it's your play, my love."

resting her chin on her closed fists, elbows against the patio table, she looked down at the wooden tiles in her possession, brain scrambling to make words with what was pre-existing on the board. next to the table, her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a picture from her wedding day, just two weeks ago.

"hang on, it's kirk. i should probably answer. you know how he worries."

having lost her dad when she was very young, it was her connection with kirk, one of her father's closest friends, that got her through some of the lowest points in her life. and naturally, like any good father figure, kirk worried about her more than he needed to.

while she typed back a response, she could hear lance rooting around in the velvet bag that held the remaining letters, before getting fed up and dumping them out in the lid for the box.

"babe, you can't handpick the letters you're switching." she laughed, looking up from her phone, the reflections of her text screen refracted in the lenses of her glasses.

lance put his finger to his lips, jokingly making a shushing sound. "go back to texting, i need a minute. just wait."

rolling her eyes, she sent kirk another message before turning her phone off and leaving it facedown on the patio table. "come on, lance. i'm winning and i've got a really good word to play."

"but i think i've got a string of better ones." lance smiled triumphantly, pleased with himself as he placed the cardboard box lid on top of the board.

inside, a dozen wooden tiles were arranged to spell out (with many abbreviations and mistakes) wil u have sex w me

"oh my god." she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as her body shook with good-natured laughter. "oh my god!"

"i wanted to spell it out on the board during the game, but alas, i am not that smart, or good at scrabble." lance mused, reaching across the table to clasp her free hand in his. "so...will you say yes?"

"of course i'm saying yes." she laughed, uncovering her mouth. "this is the cutest way you have ever tried to get me into bed with you."

lance wasted no time at all in crossing the table and scooping his wife into his arms, twirling her around as they both laughed, before crossing the balcony to venture back into the suite.

"wait! we can't leave our shit outside, what if it rains?" y/n whined, trying to put her feet back on the ground. "let me go back outside, i'll meet you in the bedroom."

"alright, alright." lance rolled his eyes, placing her back on the ground. "but don't take too long, if i get too comfortable i might fall into a pasta-induced coma!"

still laughing to herself, she crossed over to the balcony and haphazardly packed up the scrabble board and her cell phone, taking a large swig of her drink before clearing the table and moving everything inside, closing the double doors behind her.

true to his word, lance was waiting for her in the bedroom, shirtless underneath the cotton sheets, with a rose between his lips, body seductively draped over the bed.

"i love you." y/n laughed, reaching for the rose. "but i'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to put real life flowers in your mouth."

"there's tape over the bit i was biting." lance shrugged, allowing her to take the flower and place it on the bed side table. "i know how you get about these things."

"shut up." she laughed, playfully jabbing him in the shoulder. "i'm serious. i'm glad you're in my life. you make me really happy."

she didn't wait for a response, although she knew lance would return the sentiment tenfold while they were lying together in the half-light, and again when he brought her breakfast in bed in the morning. she pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly, yet deeply before she reached up to take her glasses off.

"ah," lance said, grasping her wrist. "glasses stay on. don't you know the sexy librarian look is back in style? they look beautiful on you."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @clemswrld @userlando @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @cartierre @lorarri

[goldsainz]

ART DECO — one shot.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @woweewoowa @forza55

request: “📀 — "art deco" by Lana Del Rey + Charles Leclerc please?”

NOTE: this has some drinking mentions, so if you don’t feel comfortable with that pls don’t read! cant believe carlos got pole in monza… the chances of ferrari actually getting a 1-2 are higher so yk what maybe this fic could become somewhat less fictional! MONZA IS FOR THE DREAMERS🙏

liked by charles_leclerc, patriciooward and 681,329 others

yourusername partay in italay

view all 10,219 comments

charlesfan1 charles teach us your ways🙏

ynfan1 suddenly i’m gay

charles_leclerc You drunk enough for the both of us

⤷ yourusername i regret everything

ynfan2 now i wanna go out too

ynfan3 this weekend better give her a reason to party too

pierregasly How’s the hungover?

⤷ yourusername made me consider never drinking again

charlesfan2 as a tifosi i’m glad charles’s good luck charm is here

charlesfan3 i wish i looked that good after getting drunk

charlesfan4 not her partying when it’s race week

⤷ ynfan4 not u being pressed when charles was right there with her😭

liked by yourusername, joris_trouche and 136 others

charles.jpg pasta con il mio amore

view all 24 comments

yourusername l'amore della mia vita the love of my life

⤷ charles_leclerc Sono pazzo di te I’m crazy about you

⤷ carlossainz55 Stop pretending you speak italian, Y/N🙄

⤷ yourusername i speak more than you for sure. and i don’t drive for ferrari.

⤷ carlossainz55 Too far.

leclerc_pascale ❤️

⤷ charles.jpg Je t'aime tellement maman I love you so much mum

⤷ yourusername tu nous manques énormément 🫶 we miss you very much

pierregasly Ohhh italian 🤌🤌

⤷ charles.jpg Zitto Shut up

⤷ pierregasly 🤨

liked by scuderiaferrari, sebastianvettel and 759,104 others

yourusername red party because FERRARI WON!!!!

view all comments

charlesfan31 i just love the caption only being about ferrari winning😭 she’s just like me fr

charlesfan32 the tifosi celebrating was insane actually

charles_leclerc Il mio più grande sostenitore ❤️ My biggest supporter

⤷ yourusername ti amo per sempre!!! i love you forever

ynfan31 don’t even watch f1 but i’m crying for them

charlesfan33 forget charles i want her

charlesfan34 Y/N YOU NEED TO COME TO MORE RACES!!

⤷ yourusername I WILL!!!

⤷ charlesfan34 every tifosi in the world just cheered

ynfan32 oh she ate

charlesfan35 bro i’m in love with her

ynfan33 ONE CHANCE. ALL I NEED.

ynfan34 red is so her colour!!!! ferrari pls get more 1-2 races🙏

liked by arthur_leclerc, isahernaez and 702,851 others

yourusername a little party never hurt no one!

view all 10,542 comments

charles_leclerc It hurts us… but whatever you say, mon amour

⤷ yourusername shhhhh

ynfan41 that blanket looks so comfy

ynfan42 i just know that sleep slapped

charlesfan41 honestly think they could’ve partied more but they stopped bc they would’ve collapsed

⤷ yourusername trust the party hasn’t stopped, we’re just moving it💪

⤷ carlossainz55 We’re partying until the next race!

⤷ yourusername THAT’S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR CARLITOS

ynfan43 who knows the next time there will be a ferrari 1-2😭

charlesfan42 if i were them i would party 24/7

ynfan44 LOOK AT HOW CHARLES LOOKS AT HER THO

charlesfan43 i just know charles is a great cuddler

[theorphicangel]

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL, no smut in this part but part 4👀

taglist: @ghost-lantern @mreowmoreww @maomaimao @ahano @haileycannotcometothephonern @amberbalcom14 @fire-in-her-veinz @roserfz27 @that-sounds-stupid

PART THREE (click here for part 2)

Miguel remains unmoving for what seems like hours.

He’s cleaned himself up; now changed into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie — one of your favorites that you like to steal. He’s not bothered to make dinner for himself, limbs glued to the couch.

His mind wonders how your date is going, delirious with fantasy how your date might be treating you. Probably gotten you better flowers, a better gift, maybe even a reservation at that restaurant which recently opened in upper Manhattan, most likely beating your favorite italian place in downtown Brooklyn.

His whirling thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a key twisting through the lock.

Miguel frowns, glancing at his phone for the time.

It’s only 10:24pm.

Turning, he finds you walking through the door before shutting it behind you and taking your heels off with haste. Miguel hears you groan with satisfaction as you waddle over to the couch.

“Hey.”

He notices that you have no flowers, not even a gift. The purse that you had taken for the night is now discarded on the coffee table without a second thought, your exhausted body sinks onto the couch next to Miguel with an empty sigh.

“You’re back early.” He figures he won’t even try to not state the obvious.

“Yeah.” You mumble, looking down and fiddling with your hands. “It was a quick date.”

He raises a brow. “Quick?”

You shrug. “Yeah, we went to that new posh bistro near Manhattan.”

Miguel internally curses. He was right after all.

“Was it good?”

“It was alright. I didn’t eat much though.”

“Why not?”

“Nothing looked interesting.” You shug. “Y'know, for a luxury restaurant like them their portions seemed kinda small. I was kinda hoping that you’d make something good for dinner when I came back, m’craving pasta like crazy.”

Miguel perks up a little at your words. “Do you want me to make something for you?”

“No, it's fine.”

“Are you—”

“And why haven’t you eaten?” you cut him off, knowing all too well that he’d get up and start cooking for you. You didn’t want to be a burden to him. You noticed that the kitchen was the exact same as before you left.

“I wasn’t in the mood to eat.”

“Not even take out?”

Miguel shakes his head.

Your brows furrow, finding it unusual but decide to say nothing more about it. The awkward tension from this morning seems to return, lingering around the apartment walls and now beginning to creep in between the two of you.

Your thighs are just brushing his, you can sense his chest rising and falling next to you; you feel so close to him but at the same time so distant all of a sudden. You can sense that there’s something that hangs over the two of you, lingering like melancholic clouds over the late winter skies in New York.

The tension is heavy, too thick to be cut with a knife. You feel a desire to leave perhaps to ease up whatever was going on between the two of you. But before you shift, Miguel seems to finally let his words ease you out of the cage that you were in.

“Did our–uh lesson …work?”

“What?”

It takes a few seconds before realization creeps in, your face softening. He was talking about last night.

“Oh, that.” You avoid eye contact with him. “Yeah, it helped.”

That was the last punch in the gut for him. Internally, his stomach churns. Almost nauseous at the idea of you pleasing someone else and having that look in your eyes which wasn’t solely for him.

He had no right to feel this way, he knows this, you’re free to do anything you want but it takes a moment for Miguel to ease the growing ache in his stomach; letting out an exhale before speaking again.

“You were right earlier.”

“Huh?” You glance towards him only to find that Miguel’s not looking at you, instead staring straight ahead at the window, showcasing the glorious glow of New York.

Skyscrapers of different heights dotted around the landscape, numerous tiny squares glowing with light only emphasized the burn of sonder.

“Y’know you were right earlier, you were right about me having no plans for valentine’s.”

“Oh, I was, was I?” You jump at the chance to lighten up the mood immediately, your tone turning to curiosity.

“Yeah, I had a reservation but uh— I canceled.”

“Oh, why?”

“They uhh – they said they had other plans so…” his voice trails off.

Your teasing grin drops and your voice effortlessly changes effortlessly from playfulness to one of compassion. “Oh, Miguel, I’m so sorry.” Truly, your heart dropped at the thought of him being stood up.

“It’s fine.”

A pause settles between you once again and you muse over what had happened tonight.You let out an exhale before speaking. “If I'd known that the date was going to be shit, and to be fair I should’ve known from the moment that he ignored me at work, and I would’ve stayed with you and–”

“Really?” Miguel interrupts, finally gaining the courage to meet your eyes. “Would you?

“Yes, I would've. You know I would have.”

“Really?” he repeats dumbfoundedly, as if he didn’t believe you the first time.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I just didn’t think–” Miguel cuts himself off, abruptly turning his head away from you. Fear began to build up in his lower abdomen.

He didn’t think that he was worth it.

He didn’t think that you loved him. He didn’t think that you see him in the same way that he sees you.

He sees you in a way which makes him realize that nothing in the world makes sense if you’re not there by his side to explain it all to him.

He sees you in a way that keeps him up at night for hours, staring at the ceiling whilst he conjures up one hundred and one ways to confess to you; working through each scenario before ruling it out because of his fear and apprehension.

If you knew how he felt, how would you react? Would it upset you? Excite you? Do you even feel the same? If you don’t then it could change everything between the two of you. Maybe you’d move out because of his feelings.

No. He doesn’t want that.

Anything but that.

“Your voice is quiet, full of overwhelming empathy. “Miguel, of course I would’ve stayed with you. All you had to do was ask and as a friend, I would’ve done something with you instead.”

“As a friend?”

Your expression turns to confusion, hesitant in your answer. “Yeah, yeah and as a roommate of course.”

You tried to add that on as a joke but he doesn’t laugh, instead taking another deep breath to calm himself.

Fuck, why was he doing this to himself?

“Did I know them?”

“Huh?” Miguel glances at you.

“Did I know your valentine’s date?”

Miguel hesitates. Does he lie about it? He figures that you wouldn’t catch on anyways. He goes with a semi-lie. “I dunno’. Maybe I mentioned them once or twice to you or Peter.”

You nod at his words. He definitely didn’t mention it to you. You remember everything that he tells you.

“Any reason why they canceled?”

Miguel shakes his head. “Not really.” He takes a shaky inhale. “They just said something came up.” It’s still relatively awkward in the room; your fingers digging into the soft fabric of the couch.

“Did you like them?”

Miguel holds back a scoff. To you, it seems like you had asked a stupid question, regret immediately filling your body as soon as the words had left your mouth. Of course, he liked them, why else would he be asking them out?

But to him, he scoffs in frustration. Your use of the word ‘like’ isn’t enough to accurately describe his infatuation with you.

Miguel swallows thickly before giving his answer, it’s breathy and it comes out more strangled that he had expected. “Ye-yeah.”

You glance down, your fingertips still painfully digging into the couch.

You can feel the disappointment emerge within you; jealousy begins to eat away at you but you suppress it just like you have with your other emotions – a consistent coping mechanism.

But this wasn’t about you right now. This was about Miguel and right now you have to be there for him. Whether it be as a friend or roommate, you want to let him know that you care.

The week leading up to valentine’s you spotted his excitement from a mile away: a cheesy grin at his phone on the couch or his feigned confusion that one afternoon when you had come home earlier than he had expected and caught a glimpse of a pack of red balloons in his hands. Of course, your interrogation came to nothing but you estimated that it had something to do with valentine’s.

For him to go through all that effort to be stood up on made your heart ache.

You’re not really sure where to start with your consolation.

“Miguel—”

“Let me repay you for last night.”

His words seem to leave his mouth in a rush. His tongue spilling out the words in a haste.

Your mouth is slightly agape, unsure of what he means.

“If uh– only if you wanted to...uh but you don't-” A hand rubs at his forehead, frustrated with himself for being so blunt. “fuck! I wasn’t–”

“You want to do what we did last night?” you interrupt, suddenly catching on. You’re still unable to make eye contact with him.

“Yes but–” Miguel hesitates, as if his words are lodged in his throat.

“But what?”

“ But you don’t have to feel the same way, I just—” he pauses, taking a breath to consider his words. His eyes flutter shut as he finally explains, finding it easier to not look at you. He can't bear to see your expression as he says this.

“Just...uh, fuck, how do I say this? Just... let me have you for tonight...please. Just this once and we can forget that it ever happened but I– I just want –”

His sentence is cut off once he feels your hands cup his face. For once, you forced yourself to look at him. You could tell how much he refused to look at you, his expression was painted with a deep yearning that you’ve never seen before, painted with a starvation for love.

“Miguel.” You don’t even know where to start with your own words.

“Can I show you?” He mumbles softly. “Can I show you how bad I’ve wanted you? Please?"

There’s a pause in the room before you give an answer.

“Yes.” The word leaves your lips so softly you weren’t sure that he heard it the first time.

“Yes.” you repeat a little louder this time.

For him, it was always a yes.

reblogs are much appreciated!!

(😮‍💨 I know this took me ages to upload but tysm for hanging in there…maybe I’m done torturing you guys…maybe…)

[wethotcrazy]

KIMI E LE PICCOLE COSE

pairing: Kimi Antonelli x Reader

word count: 674

just something super short and sweet for kimi just something cute and nice

The hum of the Facetime call connecting was the highlight of Kimi Antonelli's day. No matter how hectic the race week, no matter how many kilometers separated him from his amore mio, this evening ritual grounded him. His phone vibrated slightly before the screen lit up, and there she was—her smile soft, her hair a little disheveled from hours spent studying.

"Hi, tesoro," she greeted him, her voice warm despite the long day.

"Buonasera, bella mia," he replied, his lips curling into a smile that matched hers. Kimi leaned back in his hotel bed, the faint roar of mechanics and engineers still echoing outside the window. His world was loud, fast, and chaotic, but this moment? This was peaceful.

"How was the car today?" she asked, propping her chin in her hand. The soft glow of her desk lamp illuminated her face, making her look like the muse of every classic Italian painting Kimi had ever admired.

"Quick. But the brakes were—" Kimi paused, shaking his head. "Eh… You hear about cars all day from me. I want to show you something."

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. "What is it?"

Kimi opened his camera roll, scrolling to the first picture he had taken that day. It was a close-up of a cappuccino, the foam shaped into a perfect heart.

"I had this during my break," he began, tilting his phone to show her. "It reminded me of you. The heart, you know?"

She chuckled softly. "Because I give you caffeine energy?"

He shook his head, his expression serious but teasing. "No, amore. Because seeing you is the best part of my day. Just like the first sip of coffee."

Her cheeks flushed, and she rolled her eyes, though the smile on her lips betrayed her. "You're insufferable, Kimi."

"Wait, there's more!" he said, eager as ever. He swiped to the next photo, one of a tiny pink flower blooming in a crack of concrete outside the paddock.

"This?" He pointed to the image. "It’s small, maybe no one else noticed it, but it stood out. Like you do, wherever you go."

"Stop," she said, laughing, though her heart swelled at his words.

Another swipe. A snapshot of the sky—brilliant orange and purple streaks as the sun set over the circuit. "This reminded me of your favorite colors," Kimi explained. "And... how you look when you're trying to solve something hard. Intense and beautiful."

She sighed, leaning closer to her screen as if it would close the distance between them. "You’re too good to me, Kimi."

"Only because you deserve it, mia anima gemella," he replied softly.

They spent the next twenty minutes going through the rest of Kimi’s photos—a picture of a book he saw in a shop window that he thought she might like, a black cat lounging near the track because it had the same sharp, inquisitive gaze she sometimes wore, and even a picture of a messy plate of pasta al pomodoro that the team chef had served for lunch.

"It wasn’t as good as the one you make," he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

She laughed again, the sound ringing through the call and making his chest ache with the distance. "Of course it wasn’t. I’d have to fly there to teach them properly."

"Maybe you should," he said, his tone lighter now but with an edge of sincerity. "It’s been too long, amore. I miss you."

Her smile softened, and she leaned her cheek on her palm. "I miss you too, Kimi. But this helps. Knowing you think of me even when we’re apart."

Kimi’s hand hovered near the screen, wishing he could reach out and trace her features, feel her warmth. Instead, he looked at her with all the affection in his heart. "Always, amore mio. Every day, every moment. You make everything better."

And as they continued talking about the little things that reminded them of each other, the world felt a little less vast, and the miles between them didn’t seem so impossible.

[lupiinist]

barty is a great cook.

like, not only because his mum taught him how to cook (gets even better if you hc him as italian or spanish [or latino, too]), but also because his friends can't cook even if their lives depended on it

regulus is a menace in the kitchen, he once burned a kettle trying to make tea, evan is too lazy to try to learn, pandora was banned from the kitchen after making something (no one really knows what it was) that got them all sick, and dorcas can do the basic, but she likes having barty cook for her

it surprises a lot of people when they learn it that that goth, punk, edgy, slightly off guy with too many piercings and tattoos to count could be the chef of his own restaurant if he wanted to. his specialty is main dishes, he's superb with pasta and meat, but also rocks the desserts

he bonded with james over food, because james is also the cook of his group of friends (he makes the most amazing desi dishes [which i won't go into much detail because honestly it's 3 am and i can't research properly right now])

opposite to what many people think, the skittles rarely order food when they're hanging out together. barty almost always cooks. more than knowing how to, he likes to cook. it's something he shares with his mum, something his father never had any influence over (after all, he was never home during supper)

most of all, barty loves to cook for evan. evan is the type of person who tends to either get into hyperfocus and forgets to eat or has a very bad week and forgets to eat. either way, he doesn't take good care of himself. barty helps by popping up in his house, making him get up from the couch and help him in the kitchen. evan doesn't cook, but he sorts the ingredients out and occasionally chops a tomato (not onions though, he hates how they make him cry). he makes barty company, and they both have slightly better weeks just because of that

so, in the end, barty loves to cook.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home p.2

Hii guys I hope you enjoy part 2 of this story featuring a love triangle between Arthur and Charles Leclerc. If you've missed part 1 here it is.

As Arthur parks the car, the familiar Italian restaurant you used to frequent comes into view. The sight of it immediately warms your heart, bringing back a flood of memories. "Arthur, this is perfect! It's like you read my mind," you say, turning to him with a smile that reaches your eyes.

"I'm glad you like it," he replies, his own smile genuine as he steps out of the car. He quickly circles around to your side, opening the door for you like the gentleman he's always been.

Inside, the cosy atmosphere of the restaurant feels like a comforting embrace. The soft lighting, the smell of freshly baked bread, and the quiet hum of conversation from other diners set the perfect backdrop for your reunion. As you begin to catch up over plates of pasta and glasses of wine, it feels like no time has passed at all.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur," you say, your voice filled with concern as you reach across the table to take his hand. "When you told me through FaceTime that Carla had broken up with you, I couldn’t believe it. It must have been so hard on you."

Arthur squeezes your hand gently, his expression softening as he looks into your eyes. The truth is, Carla didn't break up with him—he ended things with her the moment he knew you were coming back. After all these years, it had always been you. But he can't bring himself to say that, not yet.

"It was hard," he admits, his tone measured. "But I'm much better now, especially with you here." His words bring a smile to your face, one that he mirrors, feeling a sense of relief that you're finally back where you belong.

After lunch, the two of you drive to your apartment, chatting and laughing the entire way. The sun is setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the city as Arthur pulls up in front of your building. He helps you with your bags, insisting on carrying the heaviest ones despite your playful protests.

As you both reach the front door, the sound of a door opening catches your attention. You turn just in time to see Charles stepping out of the neighbouring apartment, his eyes widening in shock when he sees you.

"Y/N?" he exclaims, clearly taken aback. "I didn't know you were back!"

You smile, surprised but pleased to see him. "Charles! I just got in today. Arthur was kind enough to pick me up and help me with my bags."

Charles glances at Arthur, his expression unreadable. Arthur, on the other hand, remains calm, giving Charles a polite nod. He had deliberately kept your return a secret from Charles, knowing that his reaction might complicate things.

"Here, let me help," Charles offers, quickly stepping forward and grabbing one of the bags from Arthur's hand before you can protest.

"Thank you, Charles," you say gratefully. "Why don't you both come in for a bit? I could use the company while I unpack."

Arthur hesitates for a moment, but Charles is already nodding. "We'd be happy to help," Charles says, flashing you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

As you walk into your apartment, the familiar scent of home fills the air. You set your bags down by the door and turn to Charles with a curious smile. "So, are you still living with your mom next door?" you ask, remembering the days when you used to spend so much time at their place.

Charles pauses, a brief flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he answers. "No, I’m just visiting. I’ve been away for a race, but I thought I’d stop by to see her." He adds casually, "I’ll probably come by more often now." His tone remains light, but there's an underlying intention, now that he knows you're back he'll come around more often.

You smile at his words, completely unaware of the hidden meaning behind them. "That’s great! I’m sure she’s happy to have you around. How’s the season going with Ferrari?" you ask, genuinely interested in hearing about his racing career. You remember how passionate he was about it when you last saw him.

Charles’s face lights up as he starts talking about the season. He dives into the details of the latest races, the ups and downs with the car, and the challenges he’s faced on the track. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself caught up in his stories, asking questions and laughing at his anecdotes.

But as the conversation flows between you and Charles, Arthur’s mood shifts. He stands a little further back, his jaw tightening as he watches his brother monopolize your attention. Every laugh, every shared smile between you and Charles grates on him. He had been looking forward to this moment—just you and him, reconnecting after all these years—but now Charles is here, and it feels like his brother is stealing his time with you.

You, however, are blissfully unaware of the tension simmering between the brothers. To you, it feels like old times, catching up with people who mean a lot to you. You’re focused on the stories Charles is telling, completely missing the way Arthur’s hands clench into fists at his sides, or the way his eyes narrow slightly whenever Charles makes you laugh.

Eventually, Charles wraps up his latest story, and you glance over at Arthur, who hasn’t said much. You flash him a warm smile, hoping to bring him back into the conversation. "Arthur, you should tell Charles about the restaurant we went to earlier. It’s one of our old favourites."

Arthur forces a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, it was nice," he says simply, his tone clipped. He’s trying to be polite, but inside, he’s fuming. All he wanted was a quiet afternoon with you, but now he’s sharing it with the one person who always seemed to overshadow him.

Charles, not as oblivious as he might seem, catches the flash of envy in Arthur’s eyes. The subtle tightening of his brother’s jaw doesn't escape him, and it only spurs him on. "That sounds great," Charles says, his voice smooth as he locks eyes with you, a hint of challenge beneath his easy smile. "Maybe we can all go together sometime."

He lets the suggestion linger, his gaze lingering on you with just enough warmth to make his intentions clear, even as he fully registers Arthur’s growing tension. Sensing an opportunity, Charles shifts a little closer, his body language open and inviting as he continues the conversation, deliberately drawing you in further.

Arthur, feeling the shift in the air, fights to keep his composure. Every instinct screams at him to pull you closer, to remind Charles that you were always meant to be his. But he knows he can't afford to lose control, not now. If he's going to win you over, he needs to play it cool—even if it's killing him inside. So he forces a tight smile, holding back the words that threaten to spill out, determined not to let his brother see how deeply he’s affected.

But Charles, fully aware of the silent battle between them, isn't about to back down. And as you remain blissfully unaware of the tension swirling around you, the rivalry between the two brothers only intensifies, each of them silently vowing to win your heart.

Here's part 3

Tags: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22

[thisismeracing]

Based on this request I read wrong lol sorry, nonny! now here you go <3

CHARLES DATING A GREEK GIRL | CL16

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to greeks and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

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Charles is a sucker for 'hidden' places. Don't get him wrong, he loves the famous cities and countries, he lives in Monaco after all, but he loves those small places not everyone knows about. Places with tons of history and you hear the people who live around tell how it used to be and how the traditions changed around town; That's why he's so excited to travel to Greece and meet your family.

He'll be that person who buys books about Greece in the airport and reads the entire duration of the flight. By the time you're leaving the plane, he may know more about your country than you;

Charles is obsessed with Greek cuisine;

When you met he was starting to study Spanish as his fourth language, but gave up switching to Greek instead, because c'mon, he wants to understand all the gossip during family dinner;

Speaking of which - Charles will fit perfectly into the family, from the way he dresses (guess those books were onto something) to the small expressions your cousin taught him while showing him around the house;

There's meaning behind small actions. Your boyfriend knows it so the first time he says I love you it's in Greek (he confessed that it took him a week to master the correct way to say it, and he aced it);

Will cause havoc on the fandom when someone asks him if he prefers Italian or Greek pasta/bread and he simply stays silent;

Will casually tell you that you'll get married on a Greek island just like in the movies;

The wedding will include tons of traditions, of course, and you know it because you caught Charles talking with your parents about it one day;

He will get his whole family into the Greece-loving club - your family better find space to fit the Leclercs next summer because Arthur told you he would even take his girlfriend;

Charles will wear a bracelet with Greek eyes, a small gift you made and gave him a month into your relationship;

Overall just loves you and your culture and will be very outspoken about it. Nobody will dare to say a bad thing about Greece or hint that some other island is better than all the ones you have in your home country;

Honorary Greek citizen - he'll definitely ask how can he get citizenship and when you ask "WHY?" he'll simply say he's curious;

All things aside, he'd just love to show you around Monaco too. It doesn't have as many stories as you have in Greece, his words not yours, but it's still an amazing experience.

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