#i picked daniel ♡
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tinycoffeeroom · 8 months ago
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girlfriend of the enemy | charles leclerc
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
tags: max verstappen x reader, thoughts of infidelity, max sucks a lil in this i'm sorry
part 2 | part 3
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You knew the novelty had worn off. Max was known for picking up things that were shiny and brand new to him and dropping them without a moment's notice. You just never thought you would be one of them. The two of you had met in the paddock, you having been invited by your reporter friends. Instantly the two of you had hit it off, chatting the whole night and enjoying each other's company. 
That was 7 years ago. 
Now the two of you were attending the end of the race year celebrations but you may as well be strangers. 
He’d swirled you around his friends, eye candy on his arm to match the fact that his face was plastered across the entire room. After he was sure everyone had seen the two of you together, he subtly brushed your arm off and went to talk with Daniel and Checo who were standing by the bar. 
Taking a seat at one of the tables strewn out across the large dance hall, you picked nervously at the acrylics on your nails. Max knew events like this made you nervous, with the large crowds full of people you barely knew. At the start of your relationship, he never used to leave you alone, constantly having a hand around your waist or resting on your knee so you knew he was there, but it was as if he no longer cared. You hated this side of him, missing the funny and attentive man you fell in love with. 
Drivers passed back and forth behind your chair, often bumping it accidentally as they walked, too deep in conversation with their walking buddy to notice they had knocked you. It had been at least 2 hours since you had seen Max, having watched him stalk off to a dark corner with the two men he was chatting with at the bar. You knew you looked miserable, but you were so tired of hiding how you truly felt, how Max made you feel. 
A hand brushes the back of your chair as someone takes a seat beside you. A soft voice barely audible over the loud music pumping through the room, close enough that their breath brushes across your neck. 
“Not having fun?”
You jump at the proximity, whipping round to come face to face with Max’s longtime frenemy, Charles Leclerc. He simply smiled, either not noticing how close the two of you were or simply ignoring it.  
You’d come to know Charles through the years you’d spent as a wag. He was always polite, full of kind smiles and funny anecdotes. You knew he wasn’t a fan of these things either, choosing to excuse himself early, either with his teammates or Oscar whenever things got a little too raucous. His two closest friends on the grid, Daniel and George, were more open to the party atmosphere, often getting to the point of drunkenness where you had to mother them a little, rounding up the giggling boys and wrestling them into an Uber. 
You loved chatting with the group of friends, never having a dull moment as each of them tried to outdo the other with a joke or a roast. However, you were always a little more drawn to the Monagesque, finding his warm voice and awkward jokes lightened the tension that festered deep inside whenever Max abandoned you at one of these events. 
You smiled back at Charles in the present, toying with the Tiffany bracelet around your wrist. “Not particularly. Never really liked these kind of events.”
If it was anyone else who had asked, you would have lied. Various excuses of not feeling well or simply needing a moment to yourself, but Charles had never once shown judgement towards your lack of enthusiasm for these nights. 
“Where’s Max?” His eyes flick around the room, elbow coming to rest on the bar. He must realise his mistake straight away as he pulls away, the stickiness of the counter following him. 
You sigh, reaching to drain the last of your mojito. “Fuck knows. Last time I saw him was just after 9.” 
He raises his eyebrows, turning to catch the attention of the bar staff. “Another mojito and a vodka soda, please.” Turning back to you, he checks his watch. “It’s 2am.”
You return the eyebrow raise, welcoming the new drink he hands you. “Yeah, it is. He’s probably with Daniel and Checo if you want him.” 
You were used to people approaching you just to get to the other. Nothing new but it still irked you a little that you were only ever seen as an extension of the great Max Verstappen, never just y/n l/n. 
Smiling softly, he raises his glass for you to clink yours against. “Nah, I’m fine where I am.”
The hours passed quickly, the two of you hunched over the bar as you tried to make out what the other was saying over the loud bass of the music. You could lie and say your heart didn’t flutter every time he laughed, eyes sparkling as he listened intently to every dumb joke you made. It made you feel a little bit sick, the butterflies in your tummy stabbing tiny little daggers into you as you try to remember the last time Max had ever spent time with you like this. 
He was a busy man, with the racing and Twitch and the various other events Redbull required him to do, the two of you rarely saw each other. You tried to organise monthly date nights in order to reignite the spark you once had but every time Max texted that he couldn’t come, not even mentioning the word sorry, you felt a little piece of your heart fall away. 
Through some kind of sick manifestation, Max rounded the corner of the bar, flagged by a barely conscious Daniel and a still chipper Checo. 
“Charles! Nice to see you!” Checo was his ever lovely self, dapping Charles up and pulling him into a brief hug. Daniel barely acknowledged either of you, slumping into the chair on the other side of you and drunkenly resting his head on the back of your shoulder. Max was neutral, eyes darting between the two of you. 
“Yeah, nice to see you Charles. I see you’ve met my Mrs.”
You hated that term. “Mrs”. Maybe if he showed any kind of interest in actually taking the next step and marrying you after 7 years together maybe you wouldn’t mind. He knew you hated it to some extent, having used it often as a joke in media events to make you roll your eyes and send him a cheeky text. But now the word just grated you, imaginary hackles rising at his standoffish tone. 
Charles smiles at the two, briefly eyeing Daniel from where he was snoring on your shoulder. “Yeah, me and y/n have met quite a few times at these things. Normally when I’m too tired to deal with Daniel and George’s shit.” He aims the last sentence towards you, joining you in a small chuckle. 
Max laughed sarcastically, hand coming to grip your free shoulder. The strength of it made you shrink slightly, hating the possessiveness it held. “Well, it’s getting late, I better get her home.” His head nods down at you, the resignation in his voice a poor attempt at humour but it lands flat. 
Charles eyes him, then the hand gripped harshly on your shoulder and finally lands on you, eyes warm with a tint of ice. “Sure. It was nice to chat to you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” He rises from his seat, hand raised to deliver a half hearted fist bump to Max and Checo before he disappears, swallowed by the horde of people still present at the event. 
You grab your bag as Max shakes the sleeping Daniel on your shoulder. The two of you work side by side to sling an arm of Daniel’s around each of your shoulders, Max thankfully taking the brunt of the weight. Silently, you make your way to Max’s car, humming at the drunken gibberish from the man hanging between the two of you. 
As you settle into the passenger's seat of Max’s car, you can’t help but wish it was Charles sliding in beside you. 
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👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc and 592,048 others
y/nstagram eindejaarsfeest met mijn lief en jouw wereldkampioen ♥️ (end of year party with my love and your world champion)
fan she’s so gorgeous, maxverstappen1 can you fight? ♥️ 39,927 others
redbullracing never mind the trophy, we think you’re the real prize ↳ fan damn admin got rizz ↳ redbullracing 😎
fan why does max never like her photos anymore i miss the “here before the dutchman” jokes ↳ fan they’ve been together 7 years maybe the honeymoon phase has just worn off? ↳ fan idk even when we see them in the paddock he brushes her off all the time  ↳ fan i thought we all agreed to stop prying into their relationship?  ↳ fan true but 7 years and no ring?? I’d have wifed her up immediately 
charles_leclerc si belle ↳ y/nstagram merci charlie :) ↳ fan ariana what are you doing here?  ↳ fan he’s been in her likes / comments since he joined f1, i’m pretty sure they’re friends ↳ fan he always comments “beautiful” or smth sappy on her posts… ngl i kinda ship them ↳ fan saying that on a post where she’s just called max her love��� seek help ↳ fan damn sorry that i just wanna see her be treated the way she deserves???? She posts max nearly weekly and the last time she graced his ig was like 6 months back ??? AND he never likes / comments on her posts even when she tags him AND he ignores her in the paddock like all the time ↳ fan he’s a 4x world champion and the face of redbull, he’s a busy man damn 
-
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Another country, another race, another day of Max ignoring you. You’d always been understanding of the fact that, as the current world champion, he had a lot of pressure on his rather wide shoulders. People called for him wherever he turned and he’d follow, giving piece by piece of him to whoever needed his attention. Race engineers, press, other drivers, even Christian himself. In the earlier years, he’d drag you along with him, hand wrapped firmly around yours as he discussed better ways to reduce drag or answer the same god damn question from the same 10 faces you saw at every race. 
Nowadays, he’d barely look your way as he gets out of the car, instead letting you roam around of your own volition. You often found yourself walking up and down the paddock, looking at all the other drivers who would throw a loving glance to their girlfriends as they rush around their garages, or drop a small kiss to the crown of their heads as they pass by to the back rooms or even something as small as readjusting their stance as they spoke to their engineers so they could press a thigh or an arm against their other half. 
So far you’d passed Alpine; exchanging quick hugs with Kika and Flavy before they went to the back rooms, McLaren; where Lando and you had exchanged a quick fist bump whilst you swiped away his questions about Max’s whereabouts, and Haas where both Kevin and Nico had waved brightly at you as they entertained their children on the garage floor. Looking up, you find yourself standing in front of the Ferrari garages. More specifically, in front of Charles’. 
Whether the halt in your footsteps has been subconscious or not, you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping for a glimpse of Charles. Flashes of red passed your vision, engineers and strategists moving amongst one another like a well oiled machine, but no sign of white fireproofs or padded red race suits. 
Sighing softly, you turn on your heels, ready to head back to the Red Bull garages where you’ll inevitably end up being forced into putting on a headset and a fake smile when it’s race time. 
Eyes focused on the ground, you walk slowly away from the Ferrari garages, not wanting to see all the loving couples around you. Only three steps down, a pair of race boots pop up in your vision, eyes trailing up until you meet Charles’ worried gaze. 
“Y/N, what are you doing all the way over here? It’s nearly race time?” His head quirks a little to the left, reminding you of an inquisitive puppy. 
It’s enough to bring a small smile to your face, eyes flicking over his face. “Hey Charles. Honestly, I didn’t even realise I’d made it this far into enemy territory until I looked up and saw your garage.” 
He matches your teasing smile, nudging his foot with one of yours playfully. “I wouldn’t say enemy, just unfamiliar.” He takes a moment to give you a once over, eyes clinging to the ever present furrow of your brows. “Where’s Max?”
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you huff quietly. “God knows. Last I saw, he was in a very heated debate with GP, something to do with the rear wing.”
He nods in response. “Does he know you’re in enemy territory?” He teases softly, aware of the way your expression darkened at the mention of your boyfriend. 
“I don’t think he would realise if I upped and left to be honest.” The second you said it, you regretted it. Charles has enough to worry about on race day without you piling your relationship problems onto him. “Sorry, ignore me. Must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed or something.” You laugh unconvincingly, trying to avoid his knowing eyes. 
He’s quiet for a moment, pensive silence spreading between the two of you. It makes your skin crawl, all too aware that he was probably already clued into your crumbling relationship. You wanted him to make a joke, to nudge his shoulder with yours as he quips about how you should join the other side for once. You wanted him to make you smile, knowing he’s been the only one to do so in so many years. 
A knot sits heavy in your stomach. Wanting another man to make you smile like your boyfriend isn’t standing 20 feet away. Another man who was the best friend of your boyfriend. 
Yours and Max’s relationship wasn’t all arguing and sneaking into bed whilst the other slept far on the other side, but the only times he made you laugh recently was in front of cameras, smiles too large and laughter too loud to be believable to either of you. 
With Charles, it was easy. Almost like breathing. He was still a little awkward with you, jokes sometimes landing flat but the way he would wince and chuckle at his own bad lines were enough to have you laughing loudly and unapologetically. 
You needed to get out of here before you said or did something you’d regret. Luckily, Xavi came to your rescue, spotting Charles out on the paddock and rushing over to sling a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Charles, vamos! We have to get ready for the race. Sorry to steal him from you, Y/N, but I can’t risk him sharing trade secrets with the girlfriend of the enemy.” He pairs the teasing jab with a wink at both of you, the arm hooked around Charles’ neck pulling him gently away. 
Charles’ throws a smile over his shoulder, waving a hand goodbye as he’s dragged into conversation with Xavi. You wave back, energy not quite matching his. 
It was a throwaway comment, something every team said when you’d chat with their racers, normally coupled with a squeeze of the shoulder or a friendly grin. Charles had even said the same thing himself two minutes prior. But something about it being Charles’ race engineer left a sour taste in your mouth. 
To Charles, you were just the girlfriend of the “enemy”, and that’s all you could be. 
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a/n: i swear i'm working on a happier one for charles' monaco win buuuut before i spend another 2 weeks finishing this off - anyone interested in a part 2?
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its-avalon-08 · 9 months ago
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Hello! Can I req ln4 x reader where they are secretly married, but the entire world just know they're bestfriend. One day an interviewer ask if they are a thing and they say they're married but sarcastically (like Chris Evans and Elizabeth Olsen on Ellen show) and in the end they decided to just reveal it. Thank you!!
🗣️avaspeaks: i love this request so much!!! and i thoroughly enjoyed writing this one, and i hope i did it justice!
we decided to break the internet (ln4)
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'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡ ♡¸.•''•.¸♡
introduction - lando and y/n were practically inseparable since childhood. building sandcastle empires on the beach, trading pokémon cards at recess, navigating the awkwardness of middle school together - they'd seen it all. what neither quite admitted, not even to themselves, was the secret crush simmering beneath the surface of their friendship. every time lando tried to impress a girl with his skateboard tricks, y/n would "accidentally" trip him mid-grind. and whenever y/n had a date, lando would "forget" to return her favorite dress, the one that made her feel invincible. their sabotage was childish, sure, but it stemmed from a fear of losing the other entirely. one summer night, sprawled on the hood of lando's beat-up car, gazing at a sky exploding with stars, something shifted. maybe it was the whispered secrets shared, or the way their laughter mingled with the chirping crickets. in that moment, childhood friendship flickered, ignited by a spark of something deeper, a love waiting to prosper.
the air crackled with anticipation as lando norris and a stunning y/n settled into the interview chairs. formula one fans adored their playful dynamic, convinced they were just best friends. little did anyone know, they'd been secretly married for over a year and a half.
"so," the interviewer began, a sly smile on his face, "the fans are curious. is there anything going on between you two, romantically?"
lando shot y/n a mock glare. "absolutely! infact we're married!!!," he deadpanned, throwing his head back in exaggerated shock.
the room froze. cameras flashed. y/n, stifling a laugh, gasped dramatically. "married and absolutely smitten with eachother! lando, haven't you told them about movie night and all the crying over sappy rom-coms?"
the audience erupted in gasps and whispers. even the other drivers, strategically placed in the back row, looked bewildered. carlos, oscar,max,charles,daniel,alex and george laughed silently into their hands.
lando, playing along, clutched his chest. "oh no, you can't tell them about that! what will the neighbors think of all the late-night screaming about popcorn refills?"
y/n doubled over, tears welling up (from laughter, not the fake movie marathons). "and the screaming matches over who gets the last slice of pizza? lando, you monster!"
the room buzzed with confusion. were they…? weren't they…?
the interviewer, clearly flustered, stammered, "wait, so… you're saying you have movie nights and… screaming matches?"
lando winked at the camera. "the usual newlywed stuff, you know?"
y/n, wiping a fake tear, added, "don't even get me started on the scooter races in the paddock."
the room descended into chaos. reporters scribbled furiously, phones buzzed, and drivers peeked over their chairs, jaws slack.
lando, barely able to hold back a real laugh, reached for y/n's hand. "alright, alright," he conceded, "we might be exaggerating a tad. movie nights are definitely a thing, though. y/n's a terror with the remote."
y/n swatted him playfully. "hey! at least i let you pick the action movies sometimes."
suddenly, y/n did something unexpected. with a flourish, she turned her hand, revealing a simple gold band with a sparkling diamond. the room fell silent.
"oh by the way we've actually married for about two years now," y/n raised an eyebrow at lando, a wide, mischievous grin spreading across her face. "forgot to mention that detail, did you?"
lando, speechless for once, could only stare at the ring, then back at the stunned faces around him. the dam broke. laughter, loud and genuine, erupted from them both. the tension in the room evaporated, replaced by a mixture of shock, amusement, and a touch of awe.
as the interview wrapped up, the secret was out. lando and y/n, f1's favorite "best friends," were husband and wife. the post-interview scrum was a whirlwind. questions flew, cameras flashed in their faces, and congratulations poured in. through it all, lando and y/n stuck together, their laughter echoing through the room, a testament to their love and their ability to surprise everyone, even the f1 world.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more! thanks for reading!
leave a like, leave a comment!
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
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love-belle · 1 year ago
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and at every table, i'll save you a seat !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which once again, the fans speculate that they broke up but they're better than that and better than ever.
or
for when you're gonna spend your life laughing with them. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - im gonna cry tumblr deleted THIS AHISKAKSJSKAKAKAKWK anyway i hope u like this i love u sm <3
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 877,415 others
yourusername best believe i'm still bejeweled
8,628 comments
username see now i got ptsd WHAT DOES THE CAPTION MEAN
username need her to psychoanalyse the caption for us bc that's the only way im keeping calm
username mom???? where dad????
francisca.cgomes a diamond's gotta shine
*liked by yourusername*
username silently dying in the corner until she posts a post saying "ILYSMSMSMSMSM" for charles bc yes im THAT traumatised
username taylor swift needs to ban her from listening to her music
≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
*yourusername added to their instagram stories*
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,627,288 others
charles_leclerc mon amour ma via mon cœur ( my love my life my heart )
tagged yourusername
18,623 comments
username THEY'RE MARRIED 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username MY parents
username you're laughing. they just trolled us for the third time and you're laughing.
danielricciardo don't remember much of last night but london rules
-> charles_leclerc mate the wedding was in monte carlo
-> danielricciardo really?
username SOBBING
yourusername je t'aime
-> charles_leclerc moi aussi, je t'aime
yourusername future milf n dilf
-> charles_leclerc absolutely
username brb js gonna check if the toaster is waterproof or not
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, maxverstappen1 and 2,127,829 others
yourusername at every table i'll save u a seat LOVERRRRR
tagged charles_leclerc
17,982 comments
username mama y papa
username LOVER ❤���❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username tearing up i feel like i watched them grow up
charles_leclerc thank you, chérie ❤️
*liked by yourusername*
charles_leclerc forever with you 😘
-> yourusername doesn't sound too bad 💌
username i'll be telling my kids about this
landonorris come and pick me up from london pls
-> yourusername no
-> landonorris fuck you
username lando and daniel are in london when the wedding in MONACO whatcthefuck
2K notes · View notes
onlyangel4 · 9 days ago
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onlyangel4 1k event - P7. DR3. SMAU.
trope: fluff comfort
pairing: daniel ricciardo x long term girlfriend
faceclaim: josephine skriver
1k event
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y/ninsta posted a story
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written: how is this an airport?
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danielricciardo posted a story tagging y/ninsta
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written: back with my girl
y/ninsta posted a story tagging danielricciardo
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y/ninsta posted a story
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written: ready for you singapore (even if night races are way past my bedtime)
danielricciardofan
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 21,102 others
danielricciardofan: all the content from this weekend makes me think that all the rumours about daniel leaving f1 are true
y/n ran into his arms sobbing post race, if this is true i am genuinely heartbroken but i know our daniel will be onto bigger and better things
view all 1,292 comments
user1: the video of y/n crying in the garage is going to be ingrained into my memory forever
user2: i am truly devastated if this is the truth
user3: this is so heartbreaking
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: so so proud
f1
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liked by user4, user5, user6 and 2,001,102 others
f1: BREAKING: daniel ricciardo to leave RB
view all 82,231 comments
user4: he deserved a better goodbye
user5: danny ric leaving f1 by getting the fastest lap point from lando just sums up the kind of guy he is
user6: i'm going to miss him so much
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y/ninsta
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liked by alexandrasaintmleus, kellypiquet, danielricciardo and 1,202,283 others
tagged: danielricciardo
y/ninsta: my future
view all 108,284 comments
alexandrasaintmleux: so so happy for you my love
y/ninsta: miss you al
kellypiquet: already picking my outfit for the wedding of the century
danielricciardo: can't wait to force you to be in my life forever
y/ninsta: i was going to be in your life forever ring or no ring
maxverstappen: i still remember convincing daniel to grow balls and ask you out, my my does time fly
y/ninsta: still convinced we would still be pining after each other if you didn't give him a pep talk
user7: mum and dad go offline for months and then come back with this news, that is nuts
user8: this is my royal wedding
user9: i'm actually crying, finally some good dr3 news
danielricciardo posted a story tagging y/ninsta
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written: this is what y/n was wearing the night i proposed, can you blame me for dropping to my knees
alexandrasaintmleux posted a story tagging y/ninsta
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written: of course y/n had to have the most aesthetic hen do ever
kellypiquet posted a story tagging y/ninsta
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written: girls night to celebrate my girl
y/ninsta posted a story tagging kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux, flavybarla and francisca.gomes
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written: ofc i had a pj party hen do, wouldn't have it any other way
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y/ninsta
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 3,872,485 others
tagged: danielricciardo. vogue.
y/ninsta: two months ago i got to marry the love of my life at my dream wedding ceremony, a massive thank you to vogue for capturing my perfect day
view all 543,294 comments
danielricciardo: how dare you not include the picture of me doing a shoey
y/ninsta: i'm afraid that didn't fit the aesthetic my love
landonorris: the best night ever
y/ninsta: i'm surprised you can remember it you were singing taylor swift karaoke with my husband at 4am
alexandrasaintmleux: the prettiest bride
y/ninsta: only because you did my make up pretty girl
kellypiquet: crying looking at these photos
y/ninsta: stop kel you'll make me cry
user10: i'm so happy they found joy in such a difficult time after he got dropped
user11: the royal wedding happened and we had no idea
user12: i'm so so happy for you both
user13: your dress is stunning oh my god
danielricciardo posted a story tagging y/ninsta
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written: wifey
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
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191 notes · View notes
immoral-stranger · 12 days ago
Text
𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 // 𝐌𝐕𝟏
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒. 🪐 “I like to stick to walls. Observing conversations, lifting them when they fall.” – Foster the People, Fire Escape.
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Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader
Word count: 5k
Warnings: There's a dinner party and reader is a chef, so a lot of talk about food. Reader is also very self-deprecating. Allusions to issues regarding mental health and self-worth, but it's not really the main story. It makes sense, I promise, I just don't know how to warn about it.
A/N: My sister requested this after we watched the movie Sommartider (very swedish), so there's a similar scene in that. I personally find this one very cute. ♡
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The apartment smelled of butter and garlic, the scent clinging to the sun-warm kitchen, filled with light that spilled through the sheer linen curtains. It was small but charming, a snug little nest tucked into the hills of the French Riviera, not too far from Nice. You stood at the counter, hands damp from having peeled potatoes, a half-prepared gratin tray in front of you. It had been a gift from your parents, a fittingly named Marseille bleu Le Creuset roasting pan. You would’ve never bought it for yourself—too expensive—but as a gift, you’d been thankful to receive it. 
“Did you decant the wine like I told you?” Imogen’s voice drifted from the other room, where she was preening in front of the gilded mirror you’d picked up at a flea market. It wasn’t her style—too rustic, too worn—but she’d said it added “charm” to your place, always opting for a backhanded compliment instead of the truth. She hated your style because it was the opposite of hers. 
You didn’t look up from your work. “No, uhm—”
“Kinda busy,” she interrupted, breezing in. Imogen always moved like she was on a runway, even barefoot in her sister’s modest kitchen. Her hair was swept into a sleek bun, and she wore a silk blouse that you suspected cost more than your entire apartment deposit. Sponsored, most definitely. She paused to eye the tray in front of you. “What even is that?”
“The base to dauphinoise potatoes,” you said, flicking a glance at her. She didn’t care about the answer; she never did. Imogen asked questions to fill the air, not to gather information. You also suspected that she loved the sound of her own voice so much that she never felt the need to shut the fuck up. 
She wrinkled her nose, but it was half-hearted, like a habit she wasn’t willing to break. “I still can’t believe you do this out of pure enjoyment.”
You shrugged, lifting a knife to thinly slice another potato. “Everyone needs to eat, Imogen.”
“Yeah, that’s what Uber Eats is for,” she said breezily, perching on one of your barstools. “No need to go to culinary school.”
You turned to give her a pointed look, hand on your hip. “And who do you think works in the kitchens at the restaurants you order from?”
Imogen made a face, part exasperated and part amused, and waved you off. “You do not always have to poke holes in other people’s logic. It’s an unattractive trait.”
Before you could respond, the sharp trill of the doorbell cut through the room. Imogen’s eyes widened, and she hopped off the stool in a single fluid motion. “Oh god, that’s them—” She smoothed her blouse and gave herself a quick glance in the reflection of a hanging copper pot. “Do I look good?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but your voice softened in spite of yourself. “You always do. It’s your job.” 
As Imogen floated toward the door, a knot of tension twisted in your stomach. It wasn’t jealousy—it never had been. It was more complicated than that: a mix of frustration and yearning that you didn’t want to untangle. Imogen walked through life as though she owned the air around her, while you had spent most of yours holding your breath. 
She pulled the door open with a practiced flourish, stepping aside to let Daniel stroll in first. His confidence and laughter preceded him, a quick kiss placed on Imogen’s cheek, and she giggled in a way that made you want to hurl. 
Daniel moved with the kind of ease that made it impossible to tell if he was posing or simply existing. Former Formula 1 driver, now Imogen’s on-again, off-again boyfriend, who appeared far more interested in globetrotting and sponsorships than in anything truly meaningful with her. With a bit of self-distance, you actually really enjoyed Daniel’s presence. He was funny and kind, even though you had nothing in common. 
“Danny, always good to see you,” you said, managing a polite smile as he stepped into the kitchen, lifting your attention from the food preparations. 
“Whatever it is you’re cooking smells wonderful,” he replied, inhaling deeply. “This is Max,” Danny added, stepping aside to reveal the man behind him. 
Through a gap, you could spot Imogen in the entryway, observing your reaction and how you greeted the both of them. It was almost like she wanted to make sure you wouldn’t embarrass yourself—or, worse—embarrass her. You, of course, knew who she had invited over for dinner. You’d had to sit through hours worth of gossip all the times you and Imogen caught up on each other’s lives. So, having two world-famous athletes stand in your kitchen wasn’t as surreal as it may sound. 
Max was taller than you’d expected, his broad shoulders and quiet presence making the doorway seem smaller. Clad in a simple black t-shirt, he seemed like any other guy your age. He looked relaxed but not indifferent, his gaze curious as he took in your modest apartment.
You raised an eyebrow, unable to resist the rising amusement. “Danny, I don’t know if it’s funny or offensive that you think I don’t know who he is.” 
They both chuckled slightly at your words, and it was like you could see how tension released from Imogen’s shoulders, instantly becoming a couple centimeters shorter. 
“I would shake your hand, Max, but I have oil all over mine,” you said, holding up your slick fingers as evidence, before returning to the food, dealing with a marinated cut of meat. 
“Right,” Danny said, clapping Max on the shoulder and steering him further into the room. “She’s got this whole culinary genius thing going on, doesn’t she? Always smells like a five-star restaurant in here.”
“Not exactly,” you said, though the compliment made your cheeks feel warm. You glanced up at Max, who was still watching you, his smile small but genuine.
“Well, don’t let us interrupt your masterpiece,” Imogen said airily. “We’ll stay out of your way. You’ve got this under control, right?”
You only nodded, turning back to the food. It wasn’t until you heard Imogen’s laughter trailing into the living room that you allowed yourself to relax. There was a faint comfort in being in your element, even if you weren’t entirely alone.
In the background, you heard them talk as Imogen poured up glasses of wine for everyone. The wine she had forgotten to decant—that you knew needed air to taste decent. You heard her talk about the wine like it was something special. You, however, knew that she had stolen all of her knowledge from when she shot an ad for a winery somewhere in South Africa, and it didn’t particularly look like either Max or Danny cared that much. Ironic, for someone who had their own wine company, but you also got tired of hearing Imogen talk about things she didn’t really care enough about to research but talked about anyway to seem interesting. 
As she poured the fourth and final glass, you saw Max pick up two of them in your periphery. You tried to not visibly tense up as you heard his steps approach across your creaking wooden floors. He set both the glasses down on your kitchen island with a careful clink. 
With a wordless nod, you thanked him, picking one of the glasses up and swiveling the red liquid around to aerate it. 
Max lingered near the counter, his hands tucked into his pockets as he studied the array of ingredients you had spread out around you. “Is that you?” he asked, nodding toward a framed photo on the wall. 
It was one of the few remnants of your short-lived modeling career—an editorial shot of you, disturbingly close up, showing skin texture and flyaway hairs, vivid watercolour-like makeup in patches around your face and neck. You didn’t even look like yourself in it, which maybe was why it was the only photo of yourself you could bear seeing every day as you spent time in your kitchen. 
“Totally narcissistic, I know,” you snorted, keeping your eyes on the frying pan sizzling on the stove. 
“No, uhm, I didn’t mean it like that.” Max’s tone softened. “I think it looks cool. You must model too then?” 
“Nope.” You shook your head, glancing up at him, surprised by his sincerity. “I mean, I tried to, but I quit a while ago and went to culinary school.”
“That explains all this.” Max said, gesturing to the kitchen.
“I may have gone overboard,” you admitted, laughing softly. 
Imogen, perched on the edge of the sofa like a cat surveying her domain, twirled a lock of her hair idly before cutting in smoothly. “Is she boring you with her food talk, Max?” Her voice had that lilting quality you recognized well—equal parts teasing and dismissive, designed to simultaneously charm and belittle.
You stiffened instinctively, your movements freezing, spatula scraping the bottom of the pan. 
Max, however, straightened slightly, his casual stance shifting. “Not at all,” he replied, his tone easy but resolute, as if dismissing her suggestion entirely. Then he turned toward you. “Actually…” He hesitated, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Can I help with anything?”
“Oh, probably not,” you said, trying to recover from sounding too surprised. “Imogen always says that I’m like a dictator in the kitchen and that my recipes are unreadable.” 
Max stepped closer, peering down at your notebook with recipes, pages filled with messy handwriting, arrows, and scratchy diagrams. “No, I get it. It’s like a mind map. Makes it easier to see the process,” he said after a moment. “Even if I don’t know what half of these things mean. What even is… a wild turkey?” 
You tilted your head, genuinely surprised that he could make sense of your ramblings. Looking over, you saw his finger point to one ingredient. You let out an unguarded laugh, the sound bubbling out before you could stop it. “It’s bourbon, for the marinade,” you explained. “Does this look like turkey meat to you?”
The meat sizzling in the frying pan was obviously some cut of beef, to judge by the colour. You didn’t need to be a culinary expert to know that. 
“No,” Max admitted with a grin. “And it would be weird to measure meat in tablespoons.” 
Your lips quirked upward, and you reached for a pear from the fruit bowl beside you, along with a cutting board and a little knife. You were hesitant to give him one of your good knives, worried he’d cut himself the first thing he did. It was quite common for people to do when they were unfamiliar with the sharpness a chef’s knife could have. 
“I guess you can chop that pear in little cubes, if you want to help.” 
Max took the pear from you, turning it over in his hands as if he were inspecting some foreign object. “A pear?” 
“It’s for the salad,” you explained, already turning back to your own task. 
“You can put pear in a salad?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve eaten a pear since I was about seven.” 
You arched a brow, glancing at him over your shoulder to see that he was fully sincere. With swift movements, you took the knife and cut a slice of the pear before dipping it into a vinaigrette you’d already prepared. 
“Try it, for science,” you said, holding it up for him to taste. 
Max hesitated before taking a small bite, his brow furrowing slightly as he chewed. Then he nodded, his expression lightening. “Huh, you know what you’re doing.” 
Heat rushed to your cheeks as you dismissed his comment, turning to look at the stove again. 
Max chuckled in response, shaking his head. He then stepped closer to the counter as he grabbed a knife. His movements were unpracticed but deliberate, the pear wobbling slightly as he began chopping it into uneven pieces. You felt the familiar itch of not being in control, almost taking over your own movements. But, you stopped thinking for a moment. Dinner wouldn’t be ruined just because the pear wasn’t in perfect cubes. And Max was actually putting in effort, biting down on his tongue, a line forming between his brows as he focused.
“Are you always this much of a perfectionist,” you asked, viewing his motions, “or are you just showing off in front of me?” 
“I’ve never put this much brain capacity into anything before,” Max joked, adding a laugh as he examined one of the misshapen pear cubes. 
For a moment, the kitchen fell into an easy rhythm. Imogen and Danny’s laughter floated in from the other room, a sharp contrast to the quiet concentration shared between you and Max. You didn’t usually let anyone help in the kitchen—it was your sanctuary, your domain—but for some reason, with Max fumbling his way through chopping fruit and throwing curious questions your way, it didn’t feel like an intrusion. 
When the food was done, the four of you gathered around your dining table, decorated with pottery and plates that you had collected throughout the years. Nothing matched, just like you preferred it. The golden hour crept through the windows as the room filled with light from the sun and flickering candles. 
And the dinner went fine, just like it always did, even though you couldn’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario of accidentally poisoning someone, or forgetting an allergy, maybe dropping the main dish right on the floor. Your sister and her company ate like they enjoyed it at least. The added blur of wine helping with the atmosphere. 
You were always the most quiet one in group settings, only speaking when spoken to, really. But you liked it that way. The stories Max and Daniel could tell from their lives were vastly more interesting than anything you had experienced anyway. Imogen too lived a more eventful life with fashion weeks and world travelling. Everyone seemed to like it that way too, the scrape of forks against plates punctuating Danny’s latest story. 
“…and when I finally got the bloody thing out of the house, the neighbour’s dog chased it straight back in,” Danny concluded, laughing as he leaned back in his chair. Imogen giggled, dabbing her lips with a napkin in that poised way of hers.
Max chuckled but shifted his gaze to you, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “So, how did you end up going from modeling to cooking?” He asked, after Danny was done telling the detailed story about a snake entering his house back home in Australia. 
You didn’t realise for how long you’d been quiet until you were now forced to speak, your voice sounding foreign to even your own ears. Setting your fork down, you answered, “I gave myself one last runway season to see if I could support myself. I walked three shows, while Imogen walked like thirty.”
“Thirty-two,” Imogen corrected, not missing a beat. She reached for her wine glass, taking a delicate sip before adding, “I’ll always believe you could’ve done it if you didn’t give up so easily.” Her tone was light but pointed. 
Your lips tightened. “I didn’t give up, Imogen—I moved on.” 
“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” she said with a faint shrug. “You never see yourself as anything special, always such a plain Jane.” 
The words settled heavily in the air, their weight pressing against your chest. For a brief moment, the table fell silent, the only sound the faint clink of cutlery against porcelain. You forced yourself to maintain an even expression as you reached for your glass of water. 
“It’s kind of hard to when you’re having dinner with three child prodigies,” you answered, letting out a pathetic laugh to conceal your emotions. 
For someone who was so afraid of you embarrassing her, Imogen really had no issue with her own words causing embarrassment for others. 
Max frowned slightly, his hands stilling as he turned toward you. “I wouldn’t call myself a prodigy,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with something else—discomfort, perhaps.
“Yeah, right,” Danny said, nudging Max with an elbow. “Modesty doesn’t suit you, mate. You’re not fooling anyone.”
Max smiled faintly but didn’t reply. There was a softness in his expression that made your stomach twist, though you quickly moved your gaze to look at your plate; the uneven shapes of pear in the salad were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. 
The conversation shifted, as it always did with Imogen, back to her. Something about a designer or a photographer saying she was the best model to work with. Something about a socialite event where ridiculous things had happened. Ridiculous meaning stupidly expensive or over the top. You wanted to laugh, knowing that they most likely didn’t use the real thing for the crazy champagne fountains she talked about, or that the sturgeon caviar they had served was a cheap knock-off, because no chef in their right mind would use the amount she mentioned. 
You zoned out as she talked, only starting to pay attention again when the conversation drifted towards what they were doing tonight and that they might need to call a cab soon. 
“Oh, where are you going?” you asked, unsure if you actually cared. 
“A sponsored event on a yacht in the marina. You know the jewelry company I did an ad for?” she replied casually, her tone almost bored.
You nodded, though the familiar ache of exclusion began to settle in your chest. You knew the exact advert she was referring to, not because you cared, but because those freaking pictures of her were everywhere. In stores, on every social media app, on digital billboards across multiple cities of the French Riviera—hell, you’d even seen it at a bus stop. 
“I assumed you wouldn’t want to come,” she added. The statement wasn’t cruel, but it stung all the same. “You never do.” 
Your fingers curled around the stem of your glass as you gave a small nod, keeping your face neutral. “No, I guess you’re right.” 
Max hesitated, glancing between you and Imogen. “I mean, she could come if she wanted to, right?”
“Yeah,” Imogen said, tilting her head as though the idea had never occurred to her. “I guess I could make a call to get you on the list.” 
“Don’t bother, you know it’s not my scene anyway,” you said quickly, your voice firmer than you intended.
Danny grinned, leaning back in his chair. “A wild night for her is solving a crossword puzzle with a pen you can’t erase.” 
“Or,” Imogen added with a smirk, her eyes glinting with mischief, “when she’s brave enough, watching an episode of Criminal Minds instead of Friends like she usually does.”
Their laughter filled the room, bouncing off the walls with the kind of ease you’d never quite mastered. It wasn’t malicious—at least not intentionally—but it still left a weight in your chest, heavy and familiar.
You kept your head down, pushing the last bit of salad around your plate, and told yourself you didn’t care. This was the dynamic, after all. Imogen had always been the star of the show, and Danny loved playing her supporting act. You had other friends who understood you better, who you had more in common with. Max, though—Max had been a surprise. And even now, as their laughter rang on, you caught him glancing at you from across the table, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression.
The dinner ended not long after. They had places to be, important people to talk to—while you had sitcoms to watch and dishes to take care of. You were happy to see Imogen every once in a while when she and Danny were both in Monaco, and you loved cooking for people, no matter who they were. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little happy knowing that Imogen was busy with work all throughout the upcoming month. 
As they filtered out, their voices trailing off into the warm Riviera night, the apartment felt suddenly too quiet. Locking the door after them, you slid down onto the floor, sitting with your knees tucked up towards your body, rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hands, not caring if mascara crumbled all over your face. You felt empty, the hum of the refrigerator filling the silence. The half-drunk bottle of wine on the kitchen counter looked temping as you considered finishing it yourself. 
— — — — — — — — — — — —
Max trailed behind Danny and Imogen as they strolled toward the cab waiting just down the street. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of the sea, and the stars twinkled faintly above the rooftops.
Danny was cracking a joke, and Imogen’s laughter rang out like a bell, but Max barely registered it. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his mind somewhere else entirely—back upstairs, at the table, watching you push your food around with that faint, detached smile.
He slowed his steps, his feet dragging. The idea of the yacht party, the glitz and endless small talk, suddenly felt suffocating. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of leaving felt… wrong. Max hated events like that. Everyone knew that. And while it was nice to catch up with Danny since they didn’t see much of each other nowadays, he found Imogen insufferable. He could play padel with Danny tomorrow if he wanted to talk more with him. Before he could think better of it, Max stopped altogether.
“Hey,” he called after them, making Danny and Imogen turn around.
“What’s up?” Danny asked, his brow furrowing.
Max hesitated, then gestured vaguely over his shoulder. “I think I forgot my phone. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Imogen gave him a bemused smile, her head tilting slightly. “You sure? It’s not like we can wait forever.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Max said firmly, already stepping back. He waved them off. “Have fun.”
He turned before he could see their expressions and made his way back to the building.
The walk up the stairs felt oddly daunting now, each step heavier than the last, as though the weight of his own indecision was pulling him back. The soft hum of the building at night—the faint creak of pipes, the muffled sounds of life behind closed doors—seemed to grow louder with every passing moment. Max reached your door and hesitated, his hand hovering uncertainly near the wood.
What was he even going to say? He wasn’t the type to overthink things, but this felt different. He didn’t want to overstep. What if you didn’t want company? The evening had already been a mixed bag of awkward moments, and the last thing he wanted was to make it worse.
Max sighed, his arm lowering slightly, just about ready to turn back when he heard your voice from the other side of the door.
“I miss you too, like craaazy,” you said, your voice muffled but clear enough through the door. Max froze, his curiosity getting the better of him. You sounded close, as though you were standing right by the door. Picking up the pieces, he figured you were talking to someone over the phone. 
“Imogen and Daniel came over for dinner earlier, and he brought a friend of his, and it was the most awkward thing ever,” you spoke again. 
Max frowned slightly. He was the friend, of course. While he’d sensed some discomfort during the evening, particularly whenever the conversation turned toward you, he hadn’t thought it was that bad. Who would you be talking to like that anyway, debriefing something that had just happened? Did you have… a boyfriend? 
“Mum,” you added, your voice cutting through his doubt, “of course it was a boy.”
He relaxed a fraction, leaning slightly closer to the door without realizing it.
“A cute one, too,” you admitted. 
Max blinked, warmth creeping into his face. A cute boy. That was a twist he hadn’t expected. He couldn’t help but grin, his chest lifting slightly at the thought. And you definitely didn’t have a boyfriend.
“You don’t have to ask if I bottled it. You already know I did,” you said after a brief pause, your voice quieter now. “I’m not like Imogen. I don’t think I’ll ever learn to be that easygoing.” 
Max was back to frowning, this time for a different reason. He didn’t like the sound of that. He wanted to knock, to interrupt, but he didn’t move.
“Yeah, yeah, I love you,” you said, your tone softening into affection as you ended the call. “Tell Dad I said hi. Buh-bye.”
Max barely gave himself a moment to think before he raised his hand and knocked. There was a pause, long enough for him to wonder if you’d heard, and then your voice came through the door. 
“Did you forget something?”
By the sound of your voice, he could tell that you were expecting it to be Imogen coming back for something. Not him. 
Max smiled despite himself. “Yeah,” he said, the words coming out more confidently than he expected. “I think I did.”
For a moment, there was silence, and then he heard rustling from behind the door, almost as if you’d stumbled to reach it. The lock clicked, and the door opened, revealing you with wide, startled eyes. You looked more tired than you had before, makeup and clothes a bit askew. He assumed Imogen had something to do with how polished you’d looked at the beginning of the evening. 
“Max?” you asked, your voice pitched slightly higher in surprise.
He cleared his throat, his hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I was wondering…” he started, shifting his weight but keeping his tone light, “if maybe, I could stay here and be boring with you?” 
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, though the words sounded stupid the moment they left his lips. He half-expected you to laugh, but instead, you blinked at him, your surprise melting into something softer.
“Uhm, yeah,” you said, stepping back to let him in. “Sure.”
Max stepped inside, and for the second time that night, he was struck by how inviting your apartment felt. The uneven warmth of the terracotta tiles beneath his feet, the mismatched chairs around the small dining table, and the array of plants lining the windowsill. It was nothing like he was used to, yet it felt like the picture-perfect definition of the word home.
Moving into the kitchen, his eyes landed on something on the counter—a tray of something, its surface dusted with cocoa powder.
“You made dessert?” he asked, tilting his head toward it.
“Yeah,” you said, shutting the door behind him, smoothing out your shirt with your hands. “I made tiramisu. Want some?”
Max didn’t hesitate. Moments later, he was seated on your sofa with a fork in hand, his first bite of the tiramisu silencing any lingering awkwardness. “Fuck me, this is like the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.
You laughed, a soft, almost shy sound that Max couldn’t help but find adorable. You really couldn’t handle compliments well, and Max was going to use that to his advantage to make you wonderfully uncomfortable. “And you were going to have all this dessert for yourself instead of going out with us?” he asked, setting his fork down briefly to give you a look of mock betrayal.
“Well,” you said with a small shrug, sitting down beside him with your own plate of dessert. “I wasn’t really invited in the first place.”
Max frowned. “That’s not fair. They should’ve—”
“It’s fine,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s not my scene anyway.”
Max studied you for a moment, his fork hovering over the dish. You were the opposite of so many people that he knew. And so similar to himself that it was almost scary to him. 
Tucking up your legs under your body, you made yourself comfortable on the sofa before you continued talking. “I tend to stick to the walls in places like that anyway. Just observing conversations, trying but failing to lift them when they fall.” 
“Do you also feel like you’ve got a foot in your mouth whenever you open it?” he wondered honestly. 
“Exactly. Always putting my foot in my mouth,” you replied with a chuckle. 
“Sounds impressive to me,” he joked with a grin. “I’m not that agile.” 
“Oh, shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You were the one to bring it up.” 
For a moment, the apartment settled into a quiet hum, the faint sounds of the outside world barely audible through the walls. Max leaned forward, setting his plate down on your coffee table. The TV was noticeably black in front of the two of you.
“So,” he asked, tilting his head slightly, “what is it tonight? A crime show or… what was the other thing?”
“Friends,” you replied, reading in his reaction. “You’ve never seen Friends?”
Max’s brows lifted. “Not really. Maybe bits and pieces, but I couldn’t tell you much about it.”
“Oh my god,” you said, your tone equal parts horror and humor as your eyes widened dramatically. “You have a lot to learn.”
He laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I’m hoping you’ll tell me everything I need to know.”
You smiled, a real one that softened your whole face. You picked up the remote, turning on the pilot episode. Max wasn’t really paying attention, but he liked how certain funny things made you audibly laugh. The more you watched and the more tiramisu you ate—the more the comfortable feeling spread like a fire through your living room, silently burning as he placed an arm around you and shared your blanket. 
This wasn’t where he’d thought he’d end up as he had entered your apartment the first time tonight, but now, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
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formulawolff · 8 months ago
Text
xiii. show the world - t.w.
pairing: female!driver x toto wolff
word count: 2.7k
warnings: cursing, angst, lots of angst to be completely honest, pining, age gap relationship, toto being down bad per usual, two idiots in love but won't admit it, yadayadayada
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“be honest with me. are you seeing someone?”
daniel brings a wine glass to his lips, tilting it back as you sit across from him, your fork clattering against the table. heat radiates off of your cheeks, flourishing into your neck as your eyes snap away from his intense stare. 
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
the sun was starting to set over the water, casting a tangerine glow across its surface. fluffy clouds float along, the sky bursting with lavender, fuschia, and cerulean hues. yachts drifted along, their lights beginning to glimmer as the sky grew dimmer and dimmer. on your left, it was almost like the city was given its first breath of night life, locals strolling along the streets, their conversations and the growl of engines as they zoomed along the streets merely white noise. 
it was truly a breathtaking view, distracting you for just a moment, taking your focus away from the conversation at hand.
yet, you remember he’s awaiting your answer, arms folded across his chest, brows knit together. scrambling to formulate some sort of response, you gnaw on the inside of your cheek, shoulders slumping. 
“what if i told you i was?”
“hmm,” daniel hums, downing the rest of his wine, “then i would say good for you, i guess.”
“oh come on,” your regain your composure, frustration brewing in the pit of your stomach, “i thought we consensually agreed that we wouldn’t explore a relationship because we needed to keep things professional.”
“i did that because that’s what you wanted,” daniel swivels his head, glancing out at the water, “i never agreed to that. i only respected your wishes because that was what you wanted. i never wanted that. i wanted you.”
“but you never told me,” you protest, absentmindedly picking at your ratatouille, “that night in jeddah, i vividly remember you telling me that you never acted on your feelings because you knew that it was one-sided.”
daniel huffs, shaking his head, “i didn’t think i would’ve had to spell it out for you. i was under the impression you knew that i had feelings for you. and actually, i thought you reciprocated those same feelings. thank you for reminding me of the cold hard truth. i feel so much better about this. thanks for that.”
“you’re not being very mature about this. what happened to staying emotionally mature about the matter?”
“i was doing that until i heard from alex that you were dating someone,” daniel retorts, his tone seething with fiery anger, “you couldn’t just tell me yourself? also, how long were you going to keep that from me? were you just not going to mention it until i found out?”
“i didn’t think it was important,” you shrug, shrinking in your seat as pairs of eyes sear into you, the stares becoming more and more prominent as daniel’s voice carries throughout the patio.
“starting a relationship with someone isn’t important?”
“daniel,” you hiss, desperately wishing you were wearing a cap or some sunglasses, “people are starting to stare.”
“okay and?” he cocks his head, “i don’t give a fuck. you have no fucking idea how heartbroken i’ve been these last few weeks. i feel like my entire world has been turned upside down. meanwhile you’re frolicking around with some douchebag from st. louis. obviously the dick is must have you in a chokehold because you’ve been a completely different person.” 
“daniel, please,” the notes in your tone raise an octave as your lower lip trembles, “stop, please. people are listening. can we talk about this some other time–”
“well luckily for you,” daniel inhales sharply, rising to his feet, “i don’t want to discuss it any further. i’m done here. see you around, america’s princess.”
tossing his napkin on the table, the australian snatches the keys to his rental, muttering under his breath. you remain at the table, people resuming back to their previous conversations as the waitress comes by, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 
“is everything all right, madame?” 
“i just need the check please,” you mumble, tears threatening to spill over as you reach for your purse, “i’ll pay for it all. i am so sorry about that.
“no worries madame,” the waitress chirps, “would you care for a free dessert for your troubles?”
you know what? free dessert didn’t seem too bad after all. 
“oui, s’il vous plait.”
at your response, the waitress’ lips curve into a wide grin, “tu es le bienvenu.”
letting out a shaky breath, you wipe away a tear, pulling your phone out of your purse. swallowing the lump in your throat, you message the one person you needed most.
i hope things are going well on your end tonight. is there any chance you can come by my hotel room, or i swing by yours? it would be later tonight. i want my sexy, smoochable, handsome boyfriend. :’((((( 
the moment you send the message, three little bubbles appear, signaling that he had received it, and was crafting a reply.
i take it the dinner didn’t go well? what happened, meine liebe? ich vermisse dich auch. 
wrinkling your nose, you highlight the text, tapping the copy option. thumb gliding across the screen, you click on the google translate app, pasting it into the textbox. 
what happened, my love? i miss you too. 
i can explain more later. you type, are you busy? 
never too busy for you. remember, we’re in monaco. i own a place here. 😘 you can just come by whenever you need. i’m at home. do you need the address?
yes please. i’ll be there as soon as possible. 
i can’t wait to see your beautiful face. here’s the address. i’ll be waiting impatiently. 
the second you type his address in your phone, the waitress comes by your table, a box in one hand, billfold in the other. placing the box on the table, you anticipate her to do the same with the check. yet, she doesn’t keeping it in her grasp. 
“madame, your meals have been taken care. a gentleman called, inquiring if he could foot the bill. he stated he did not want you to worry about anything else this evening. is that all right?”
your heart flutters, “did he say a name, by chance?”
“no madame,” the waitress flashes you a quaint smile, “again, i am so sorry if your evening has been ruined in any sort of way. i hope the dessert helps in some fashion!”
“thank you,” you reciprocate the gesture, “and again, thank you for the dessert.”
“it is no problem,” the waitress dips her head, “have a great evening, madame!”
rising to your feet, you push in your chair, ensuring that you don’t forget the plain white box that was placed on the table. carrying it under your arm, you pull up your maps app, feeling a grin form.
maybe tonight will not end as poorly as it began. 
you could thank toto wolff for that.
ever since miami, you felt as if the weight of the world was off your shoulders. the stress was alleviated, dissolving almost completely. you could go about your day without that ever-present thought in the back of your mind, gnawing away at you. 
however, there were more mountains to climb. more obstacles to face. 
you had yet to sit down with james, alex, or anyone else really, to discuss your decision to depart from williams at the end of the 2024 season. 
toto was the only one who knew. 
and for the time being, you were okay with that. 
but you were running out of time. the days were soaring by. you would blink and suddenly it would be time to board that flight. it would be time to get behind the wheel, adrenaline coursing through your veins. it would be time to step on that podium, raising that gleaming trophy above your head, your team roaring below. 
with four grand prixs wins, three of which were back-to-back, you were unstopabble. 
a force to be reckoned with. 
max tried to catch you, he really did. 
but you were too fast, fueled by the thrill of victory. 
it was intoxicating, sending an electric, exhilarating buzz throughout your entire being every time you breezed across that finish line.
and with a man like toto by your side, how could you possibly lose? 
with the monaco grand prix on the docket for the weekend, you were preparing for a challenging race. the circuit was extremely tight, the track interweaving through the buildings and sights the city. it was an infamous track, known for its rich history and well, the accidents. 
additionally, there was little to no room for overtakes. so if you wanted to be on that podium on sunday, you had to execute a stellar qualifying lap. with that added pressure, you were a little apprehensive for what was to come. 
yet, you couldn’t let that anxiety creep in. you had to maintain your composure. it was crucial that you kept a calm, cool outlook on the race. 
and as you found yourself at that massive gate, pressing the button to your left, you couldn’t help but feel peace of mind. 
you could thank toto wolff for that as well. 
with every moment spent with the team principal, you couldn’t help but shake this aching, nagging feeling. 
it was a pure, innocent feeling. one that filled you to the brim with bliss, a cozy warmth blossoming in your chest, your heart swelling with joy. one that had you beaming from ear to ear, your once gloomy days now shining with this golden, rich light. 
you were in love with him. 
hopelessly in love, your whole heart resting in his tender hands. 
you couldn’t tell him that though. you couldn’t bring yourself to. 
at least, not yet. 
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
“all right,” james’ sucks in a breath, his head swiveling from side to side, taking in the commotion all around. 
“are you ready?” 
“come on,” you wave a hand, “you know the drill. i was born ready.” 
“i know,” the team principal’s lips twitch as he fights a smile, “but this is a pretty significant race. there’s a lot of history and heartbreak on this track.” 
“are you saying that you don’t think i can win?” you tease, your voice muffled slightly by the thick exterior of the helmet, “james, i can do this. believe me, i can do this.” 
“there’s a lot at stake here,” he places a hand on the top of your head, patting it, “just remember, whatever happens, i believe in you. always.” 
i believe in you. always. 
your lower lip trembles, and in that moment, you want to confess right there. you almost blurt out the words that had been lingering on your tongue for weeks now. 
james, after this race, we need to to talk. 
however, you don’t. you simply nod, drumming your hands against the steering wheel, “i’ll make you guys proud, i promise.”
“oh, you already do,” his eyes glimmer, bursting with pride, “you’ve made us so fucking proud these last few weeks. and you know what? i know you’re going to continue to make williams racing proud. i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us.” 
fuck. 
that conversation was going to absolutely destroy you, splitting your heart into two. 
you couldn’t think about that, though. 
the race was about to start. 
on the grid, you were behind charles leclerc and oscar piastri. it wasn’t terrible positioning, but with the limited space, you knew that getting ahead would be nearly impossible. it would be a miracle if you were able to cross that finish line in first place. 
yet, you were more than willing to take the risks involved to get to that position. 
all you needed was a little bit of luck. 
which, these days, it seemed like you were full of it. like you were carrying a four leaf clover in your pocket at all times. 
as rays of sunshine filter through the clouds, a gold streak of light dances in your peripheral vision. 
nestled on your wrist was the charm bracelet toto had gifted you that fateful night in jeddah. the charm gleams, reminding you of two things. 
one, your very first grand prix victory.  
two, that he was always with you. 
perhaps he was that good luck charm you were desperately searching for.
maybe. just maybe. 
in about seventy-eight laps, you would have that answer. 
“and she has done the impossible! she has shattered yet another record! miss america has won monaco! she has won her fifth grand prix!” 
“fuck yes!” you shout, “we won! we won monaco!” 
“brilliant fucking job,” james’ voice trembles, thready with excitement, “bloody good job!” 
euphoria crashes over you like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless as it sucks the air out of your lungs. burying your head in your hands, your shoulders shake as you sob. 
never, in your wildest dreams would you have expected to have made it this far. 
never would you even imagined racing as a little girl, let alone racing at this caliber. 
and winning races? five of them?
little you, cheesing with her toothy five-year-old smile, standing next to a kart, helmet under her arm, wouldn’t have ever dreamed of this moment. 
you had improved miles upon miles from the driver you were last season. you made history. time and time again. you had shattered records, obliterating barriers in the world of formula one racing as a twenty-two year old woman. 
and fuck, you weren’t even done yet. 
you still had a world title to chase after. 
“holy shit. holy shit. holy motherfucking shit.” 
stepping out of the car, your heart races, your team nearly sprinting to congratulate you. picking out james, you flash him a thumbs up. the crowd raves, whooping, whistling, and hollering your newfound nickname. 
“miss america! miss america! miss america!” 
cameras appear out of thin air, recording as you step down, james and alex swathing you with their embrace. alex rattles your helmet, james’ grin shining bright as the cameras flash. 
“what a bloody brilliant day!” james shouts, a glossy sheen over his eyes, “what a fucking day!” 
“what place did you finish, alex?” your voice rises above the noise, “what did you get?” 
“ninth!” he chirps, “two drivers in the top ten? that’s a pretty fucking good day!” 
“a very fucking good day,” laughter rises in your chest, spilling out, “fuck, that nearly took everything out of me!” 
“well you better shape up,” alex pats your back, “because you have a podium that’s calling your name.” 
as the team gathers, making their way to the finish line, your heart yearns for one thing. well, one person. 
toto. 
pursing your lips, your eyes scan through the garages, attempting to make out the mercedes paddock. yet, there is too much movement in your line of sight as the crew members assemble, circling around their respective drivers. 
the euphoria lingers as your step onto the podium, the crowd below applauding. there are shouts that rise above the clapping, yet you can barely make them out. 
surveying the mass, your heart skips a beat as you locate him. 
his eyes lock with yours, pure, radiant adoration painted across his features. 
that’s my girl. he mouths, dimples apparent with every word. 
a few strands of hair flutter in his face, the top button of his shirt un-done, the fabric slightly wrinkled from the chaos of race day. 
yet, he was as gorgeous as ever. 
as charles and oscar pop open the champagne, you hesitate, fingers trembling as they wrap around the neck of the bottle.
you know what? 
fuck this. 
“hey!” charles calls out as you step down from the platform, “where are you going?”
there’s a brief moment of confusion from the crowd, a few gasps ringing out as you shoulder your way down the stairs, muttering numerous apologies as you accidentally elbow several people along the way. 
there was only one thing on your mind as you nudged your way through the throng of people gathered beneath the podium. although your skin burned beneath your suit, sweat clinging to every part of you, there was this tugging sensation at your heart. it urged you to keep going. to keep searching. 
you were face-to-face now, his brow furrowing with concern, arms folded across his chest as you take another step forward. 
“what are you–"
that’s when toto wolff found your lips colliding with his, the entire world crumbling away as he found himself lost in you.
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
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mickyschumacher · 1 year ago
Text
[ICE CREAM CAKE!]
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando have a pretty healthy relationship; communication is a breeze between the two of you. and while that seems good, it doesn't help lando is horny 24/7. even the beach isn't safe from him.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), established relationship, some fluff, blowjob, slight handjob, breastplay, poor humour LMAO aka old creepy mens' dicks, no time concept lol, basically lando time!
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: now playing: ice cream cake – red velvet! OKAY YES IK I HAVE REQUESTS BUT I HAD WRITER'S BLOCK TILL THIS OKAY? is it not obvious by the word count? 😭 alexa, play 'easy on me' by adele :( also new banners after i messed around one day! ♡︎ // proof-read-ish!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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You had met Lando two years ago purely on accident. You were at a coffee shop in Brighton, he was visiting a friend there. You ordered a hot chocolate and he had ordered a long black. Somehow the both of you had swapped cups and were wincing at how sweet or bitter the drink was.
Lando had turned his cup around to see who the cup belonged to. Upon seeing your name, unlike a normal person who would ask the barista for another cup or a refund, he had shouted your name across the room.
Lucky for you, you were the only other customer there since it was a slow day. Nevertheless, you looked up in shock. Who yelled out your name? Why? How did they know your name?
You actually purposely avoided eye-contact with his table just in case he was some weird guy. But Lando got your attention after telling you from across that room that you had some sweet taste in drinks.
You raised a brow. Was this some sort of new catcall you didn't know about? But then you had caught the barista's handwriting on 'your' cup. Lando, Long Black.
You scrunched your nose at the cup and looked at him. "You're quite bitter."
It was at that point when Lando had got a clear shot of your face and found his heart racing faster than normal. You were pretty, no gorgeous, no beautiful, no... surreal. Your face was contorted into a grimaced expression at his order which he found amusing. You looked like, what he still claims to this day, part of the shop's couch. The couch was brown and you were wearing a brown sweater.
Honestly, Lando couldn't find the whole situation anymore endearing. So with whatever confidence he had leftover, he walked up to your table and smoothly asked, "Can I get you a sweeter one with my number?"
Now this was when you first had probably got a look of Lando. He had a certain... boyish charm, if you will. The wide grin, sparkling blue eyes, face dotted with the odd freckle or beauty mark. To say he was attractive was an understatement. He looked like one of the main characters in the rom-coms you would binge when you needed a pick me-up.
You said yes. Obviously.
And here you were, two years later. At the beach with Lando, Charles, Carlos, Daniel, and their partners. You were all caught up with F1, always available for Lando. Your perspective of him had changed quite a lot since you had met him. In a good way, of course.
You initially saw him how a lot most of his fans and the media see him. A comedian by day and a moodmaker by night. Always smiling and cheery. Positive and optimistic. But the reality was that Lando struggled with the mental and physical aspects of F1. He didn't always have the confidence and he was stressed and depressed.
But as Lando always said in his interviews, he had found you.
'The best thing that had ever happened to him,' according to Lando himself.
Anyone could see that the two of you loved each other with your entire beings. Neither of you left any stone unturned in your relationship. Most people were jealous of your relationship. The drivers, the media, and especially the fans.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
━━━━━━━━━━━
One thing about Lando that you had learned quite soon after your first time together was that Lando was insatiable. He was sex-driven, horny, full of lust, aroused... all the words in the dictionary for a man like this... 24/7.
One day, you asked him why. Lando only responded with pulling you closer to him, leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw and down to your neck, and saying "You."
You wouldn't say anything did it for him. No in fact, it was specific things that he couldn't take his mind off once he thought about it.
Take right now for example.
Carlos had decided to treat everyone to ice creams, ice lollies, and juice on your trip to the beach in Playa de Bolonia. Innocently and naively, you had chosen the pink ice lolly out the chilly bin. Lando had also not thought anything of it.
Rather Lando had being eyeing you with every spare glance as you were wearing his favourite bikini, the one he had bought you for Christmas as a prank gift in the nice British winter thinking it had been the funniest thing ever. Obviously, he thought you were going to were it but another thing you had learned was that Lando's humour quite often was unmatched and spontaneous.
The bikini itself was simple. An orange, of course, two-piece. The top was held up by two moderately thin straps and hugged your breasts quite nicely. The bikini bottom was as normal as it could get, clinging to your hips. On top of it, you wore a white thin-laced cotton coverup, loosely tied together.
You would say it was an average beach look. Lando would disagree. It was as if God himself had carved you and decided to put you on Earth as reparations for the bad in the world.
But back to the point.
As mentioned, Lando hadn't really thought of the ice lolly. He was too busy trying to get Daniel back with a water gun. Like you said, boyish. It wasn't until he had finally got him back and decided to go sit down with you and grab himself some ice cream.
But when Lando sat down and looked at you, his mind had suddenly turned into shambles. There you were. Under the shade, peaks of sun shining on your skin, holding that pink ice lolly to your mouth.
Lando wasn't quite sure what was worse. The faint pink colour similar to his cock or the way your tongue travelled down the length of it to collect the melting sugary liquid. Or how your lips pressed up on the tip of the ice and pressed down to take an inch more of it into your mouth as if it was his own cock.
To make matters even worse for him, you had failed to capture some of the melting droplets. Lando keenly watched as they fell to your bare part of your chest and even had landed right where he knew your nipple was. His eyes widened ever so slightly and his breath paced when you frowned at the event and used your finger to wipe the sweet liquid off your skin and into your mouth. Some of it had gone too far down, probably pooling near your breasts like he imagined.
What sent him overboard? When you had spotted the stain on your bikini top over your nipple and attempted to rub it away, only making the stain worse and a small bump for your pebbled nipple.
Lando gulped nervously, pants incredibly tight. He closed his eyes and held his hands over his newly-formed hard on, wishing that his mind wasn't full of everything he had just seen. Your lips... your breasts... the way your eyes looked down at the popsicle... if only that was his cock....
"Lando? Dude, do you need to go to the bathroom?" Pierre's voice cut through the air.
Lando snapped his eyes opened and your eyes looked over to your boyfriend.
"W-What?" The British male queried with slight panic. He was not getting caught with a hard-on in front of his friends... there was no way in Earth...
Pierre raised a brow, gesturing to his pants. "You're ice cream is all melted. You need to take your eyes off Y/N at least sometimes, Lando, otherwise you'll never finish... your ice cream, that is," He teased.
You looked down at Lando's pants where his hands laid, covered in the white vanilla ice cream-turned liquid. You and everyone let out an amused laugh at Pierre's joke, shaking your head.
You stood up from the sandy grass you were sat on, dusting yourself off. You extended your hand to Lando, "Come on. I bought extra stuff in the car. Honestly, I thought you were going to lose your trunks by Daniel pantsing you in the water but I guess not."
A howl of laughter came from Charles and Carlos while Daniel cursed himself for not doing it.
Lando blinked, pulling the finger at his fellow drivers. He sighed, grabbing your hand and awkwardly standing up from the area, managing to cover up his bulge swiftly.
The two of you headed to the car as Lando briefly threw out the sticky wrapper and stick into a bin nearby. You opened the boot of the car, grabbing his trunks. "Jesus, could it get any hotter today?" You asked, closing the back door.
"It really couldn't," Lando mused, walking hand-in-hand with you, making you release a groan.
"Lando... now my hand's all sticky, you idiot," You complained, trying to pull apart from his hand.
Lando rolled his eyes, arriving to the empty males changing room. He was about to enter when he saw you stand outside and not follow him. "What are you doing? Come in."
You narrowed your eyes. "It's a male changing room. I'm not going in. What if there's some old man trying to change? I do not need to be scarred for life. My DMs is enough, thanks."
"First of all, there's no one here," Lando stated before shouting a loud 'Hello' into the room, making you redden with embarassment. "See? Secondly, I'm sorry, let me get this straight, your DMs are full of old men's dicks?" Lando looked at you incredulously.
You grinned, shrugging. "It's called being a woman, Lando. You wouldn't get it."
Lando rolled his eyes once again, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into the changing room.
The room was the opposite of most changing rooms. It was tiled well, clean and fresh as opposed to musty, damp and with paint-chipped walls. There were also no leaky taps or showers or even any graffiti. It was slightly comforting to know that at least people respected some of their public rooms, even in Madrid.
"Wait, also, what if I get old? You don't want to see my shrivelled dick? It should turn you on!" Lando asked with a dramatic gasp.
You looked at your boyfriend through the mirror with a dumfounded expression. Turning, you threw his trunks at his face. "Go change," You laughed, shaking your head.
Lando grinned underneath the trunks as you turned the tap on to wash your sugar-coated hands.
Lando had removed his trunks, left naked with his hard, reddened cock slapping against his stomach, and was about to put on the new ones when a thought passed his mind.
You paused your hand-washing and froze when you felt Lando's arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you close to his bare body. "Lando," You yelped, feeling a shiver cross your body, "What are you doing?"
Lando peered down at you through his thick eyelashes. He tucked his chin into your shoulder, placing a brief kiss. "What?" He asked innocently, "I'm just washing my hands. I can't get the new ones dirty either."
You watched through the mirror as he pressed his body into you, washing his hands under the tap, ridding the tackiness on his hands.
You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock push into your backside. It was bare, you realised, as the heat spread into you. Your eyes flickered to Lando through the mirror, squinting at him. He wasn't...
Lando caught your eyes staring hard at him. "Don't look at me like that," He whispered into your ear, a loose grin hanging on his face. His wet fingers travelled to the poorly tied lace coverup you wore, undoing the knot with ease. The coverup fell against your shoulders, revealing your bikini and body in all it's glory.
"You have to clean up as well," Lando shrugged, eyes fixated on you through the mirror. "You made a mess," He murmured, wetting his fingers with the water once more before placing it against your chest.
You pressed your lips tightly, feeling his fingers drive down your skin and underneath your bikini top. Lando's fingers brushed your hardened nipples, making you shudder under his touch. His fingers trailed across your breasts, wiping away any of that sticky residue that you had missed. Bringing his fingers to his mouth and taking a wide lick of them, Lando grinned at you. "You know... I can't stop picturing you sucking my dick like that ice lolly. Never thought I would be jealous of an ice lolly."
You couldn't help but smile in amusement. You pulled away from his hold and turned to face your boyfriend. "Yeah?" You hummed, hands trailing down his chest. Lando had been working out a lot more these days for F1; compared to before his abs had become more prominent and toned. You loved Lando no matter what he looked like, but there was something about the way his skin flushed when you touched his torso.
Lando's breath hitched as your hand had ever so naturally found it's way to his cock. His cock, if you could say it, was pretty. It was average in length and with a nice, filling girth, stretching all of your holes wide.
Your fingers brushed across the tip of his head, just grazing his slit. You could feel Lando jolt in your hands as he muttered, “Fuck.”
You opened your mouth, letting a drop of saliva full into his cock. Hand wrapped around it, you gently rubbed natural lube up and down his shaft. Lando’s jaw clenched at the warm liquid nestling around his cock, letting a sharp exhale through gritted teeth.
Slowly you sunk down to your knees. The tiled floor was cold against your burning skin but it didn’t matter: you were too focused on what was right in front of you; cockdrunk. Your tongue darted out to swipe your lips before pressing a light kiss to his cock. Lando could feel himself twitch, aching to be in your mouth.
He watched as your lips opened like they did on that ice lolly. Going down in his cock, your lips stretched and your mouth hollowed.
Lando groaned at the warmth surrounding his cock. He bit down on his lip, watching his cock disappear into your mouth. Your eyes were on him as you sucked him, teeth barely grazing his skin.
"Fuck, you look so pretty like this, Y/N," Lando sighed out, "On your knees for me. I can't imagine the mess you made between those legs of yours, hmm?"
You moaned in response, sending a vibration around his cock. You briefly pulled away from him, making Lando grunt in slight annoyance at the loss. "These lips, my pussy.... all yours," You winked at him before returning to his cock.
Lando tensed at your words, letting a grin overtake him. "Yeah? Let's see about that throat, baby?" His hands reached your half dry and half damp, salty hair. Wrapping those long tresses around his hand and wrist, he tightened his grip. He could feel you open up your throat as he guided his cock down the tighter tunnel.
Lando's rasping groan made you clench your thighs, holding a barrier to the wetness leaking at of you. You could feel him begin to move his hips, beginning to push his cock into your throat.
Fighting the urge to gag around his cock, you tried hard to relax your cheeks and mouth, allowing every inch of him to be seated in your throat.
He flickered his eyes to you. Watching you take him in his mouth was a pleasure of its own. Your big eyes were glassy with tears of arousal and a haze of lust, sweat and saliva lingered at every edge of your skin, and your lips were puffy and red. Trailing his eyes further down, he spotted your bare neck in dire need of kisses, but that wasn't the most striking thing about it. It was the slight bulge of his cock in your throat making it's presence known.
Jesus...
Lando instinctively closed his eyes upon feeling your hands touch his balls. You rubbed them gently, feeling your head bob at an increased rate to match the sudden pace of Lando's cock in your throat.
"Fuck, fuck... I..." Lando moaned. "I'm gonna cum!" Lando hissed out, feeling a familiar bubbling feeling overcome. His thrusts become harder and faster, your nose flushed with his skin.
His moans became irregular and higher, chasing his release. "Fuck...." A guttural groan fell from his lips. Hot, salty white strips of his cum coated the inside of your mouth, swirling around after each drop was sucked from your lips. Almost painfully, Lando removed himself from your mouth. His chest rose up and down as he breathed out heavily.
An admiring smile came from Lando while he pulled you up to meet his face. He pushed your sweaty hair back. "That mouth of yours is evil," He narrowed his eyes playfully.
"You should shut me up then," You quipped back, sticking out your tongue that still had his cum on it.
Lando's eyes sparkled with amusement before he brought his lips to yours, darting his tongue into your mouth. The urgency in the action was understated. God, he could taste himself in you. His hands encapsulated your waist, flushing your barely clothed body to close his naked one. Your own hands travelled everywhere across his chest as the two of you kissed each other.
The muffled moans from you made Lando want to hear them out loud. Slowly he moved from your lips to your jaw. "Let me hear you, baby," He breathed out, placing smaller kisses as he reached your neck.
You let out a small whimper, neck tilting so Lando could get more access. Lando grinned at the sight of your bare neck, leaving small little nibbles across your skin. His lips eventually became settled in an area between your ear and collarbone, beginning to suck at your warmth.
"Lando," You moaned, "No, the others will realise."
Your refutes were ill-attempted even for yourself. You were dazed at the suction of his lips. His nose buried into your neck while he created a fresh layer of purple against your sun-kissed skin.
Lando released himself from your neck, eyeing down his creation with a smirk. "There. If they couldn't tell from your hair, they'll definitely know now."
You narrowed your eyes, turning to the mirror only for your eyes to widen in shock. "Jesus fucking Christ, Lando," You peered at the big purple brown splotch on your skin. "As if the 20 minutes we've spent here wasn't enough," You whined.
Lando laughed softly, standing behind you with his arms around your waist and chin resting on your head. "Well... if you make it through the shame, I can't wait to properly fuck you when we get home. You must know how much I love the way you look when I’m inside you."
Your head fell against his chest with a pout. "Why not now?"
Lando grinned before pressing a kiss to your head "Like you said... it's been 20 minutes."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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leclercsbunny · 2 years ago
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maybe if you loved me ♡ c.sainz
part two ♡ masterlist
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F1CHAI the summer vacation not only brings dramatic shifts and shuffles among the current lineup, it also brings forth a new *rumored* couple. after a previous relationship that was rife with confusion and so much controversy, y/n has rose to the trends, this time, with daniel ricciardo headlining the event. their similar posts have sparked discussions all through out the interweb, prompting fans to speculate that they have spent their break together.
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"haagen or ben and jerry's?" daniel hollers from the kitchen, and you raised your head to shout back, "both!"
you focused on the task at hand, picking the perfect movie or series to binge while munching on the junk food spread on the table. it was covered with all the essentials for a night in; chocolates, popcorn, fries and nuggets. you were wrapped in the fluffiest of blankets, and the felt the most comfortable you've ever been in a while.
daniel sat himself on your side, grabbing the other end of the blanket and getting cosy himself. you murmured a quiet thanks when he handed you the icey treat, leaning into him when he kissed your head with a welcome in return.
the aussie raises an eyebrow to his phone, seeing notifications flash after the other and feeling it hot under his touch. he chuckles, showing the barrage of mentions and messages he's recieved, "see, i'm not totally sure but i think they're saying we're on a holiday. together."
"me with daniel ricciardo?" you gasp for added effect, "i couldn't possibly."
"i know, where could they have gotten it from?" he sighs dramatically. "i'm woefully alone."
"and i'm utterly heartbroken," you touched your chest with a fake pout, "on a soul searching rendezvous."
"we're a bit pathetic." he tilts his head, a grin forming on his face. "but in-a-totally-chill way." you giggle.
"it's nice to be sad and pathetic together, though." he nods his head with a laugh, "ditto." you toast your respective icecream cups.
you both settle into comfortable silence, watching the generic comedy film playing on the television. daniel's arms felt comfortable around you, and you naturally fell into his embrace... he felt safe, and warm.
"thanks for being a friend dani." you mumble, on the prepice of sleep.
"... someday.." you were too incoherent to understand what he said in reply, only faintly registering his lips on the top of your head.
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 1,799,682 others.
carlossainz55 hace más calor en españa
*It's hotter in spain
username carlos thirst trapping his way back into yns life is so ex boyfriend lore 😭😭😭
username daniel fight back !!
username you won't even have to tell me twice
username yn i won't blame you🫡
username why would you say something so controversial and so brave???
username LOOK AWAY YN IT'S A TRAP
username let the girl move on damn
username 🚩 but he's a ferrari driver and this good looking so 10/10
landonorris 👀
username weren't you just making out with a random girl the other week?? 🤨
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,692,602 others.
danielricciardo i'm not worried💤
username he violated you carlossainz55
username the girls are fighting hold on💨😳
username YN AND DANIEL CONFIRMED ???
username CARLOS FUMBLED
username daniel just knocked carlos out with this one, 10/10.
username do not let these men back on track fia !!
maxverstappen1 cute
username netflix are you seeing this ??
username sprinkle sprinkle 🥰
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apclyptc · 1 year ago
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LET ‘EM KNOW— chris sturniolo x reader
synopsis: you and chris both know your former relationship was toxic. it doesn’t stop either of you from playing games.
warnings: smut here, there, and everywhere, ex!chris, toxic relationship, pet names (princess, baby), riding, doggy, unprotected sex, lots of teasing, oral (f!receiving)
“i’m coming back for good so let them niggas know it’s mine, ‘i already got someone’ is what you tell ‘em every time…”
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake him.
when you were at a party, there he was, nonchalant in the way he strolled up to you and scaring away whoever you were talking to at the time.
constantly texting you, despite the somewhat messy breakup you two had about a month ago.
god, even when you made plans with one of his brothers, he was always interrupting and making himself known.
chris had a way of making sure to permeate into every aspect of your life.
although, it’s not like you were completely innocent. secretly you loved the thrill of knowing that he was utterly jealous if you were a meter’s distance away from another man. you picked up your phone with superhuman speed when you saw your phone light up with his contact.
and even though you would argue for him to leave you alone, his brothers could tell by the look on your face, you were failing to hide that you loved his interruptions.
so when you arrived to yet another influencer party, you knew it was only a matter of time before chris appeared.
“y/n!” nick shouted your name upon seeing you. you two had a close friendship, he was the first of the triplets you met, before he had introduced you to him.
and as if he could sense whenever he popped up into your head, chris turned around and laid eyes on you, immediately heading your way.
“hey baby.” he smirked at you, using the pet name he gave you when you were together.
“i don’t know how many times i have to tell you not to call me that anymore.” you spoke, though by the way you said the words he knew you were anything but serious.
“cmon, don’t be like that.” the smirk that never left his face when he was around you only continued to grow.
“like what? single?” you retorted, mirroring his expression. it was a game you both played, teasing and mocking each other, but never crossing the boundary.
“you know there’s no one else like me.” and while you knew it to be true, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of agreeing. not out loud anyways.
“thank god for that. nick, come get a drink with me.” you turned your attention to the much friendlier, less annoying brother next to you and walked in the direction of the kitchen.
“i don’t know why you always do this.” nick laughed.
“what exactly am i doing?” you questioned, pouring yourself a drink.
“pretending you’re not still interested in chris.”
you scoffed, a little too loudly, and even you didn’t believe your own reaction for one second.
“i broke up with him, remember? why would i do that if i still wanted him?” a lie.
“i don’t know, maybe because you, and my brother included, love to make things complicated.” nick reasoned. this wasn’t exactly the first time you had broken up, although the breakups never usually lasted as long as this one.
“it’s not complicated. he’s a dick and i don’t like to be a part of his silly games.” another lie.
“i’m only saying this because i love you, but you absolutely love playing his games. sometimes i think you start them yourself.”
another loud scoff left your lips, even more unconvincing than the last.
“whatever. i’m ending this conversation. what about you? spoke to daniel yet?” you pivoted to nick, who shook his head.
“no. because unlike some people i know, i block my ex boyfriends so they can’t contact me.” he narrowed his eyes at you jokingly.
“touché.”
after a while of letting the alcohol in your system kick in, and shamelessly singing along to the music blaring from the speakers, you found yourself imprisoned in a conversation with some random influencer who waved you over.
“…and that’s why i never do ads on instagram anymore. it just seems so pointless, y’know?” the man finished his lengthy monologue, not even noticing your bored expression and the fact you only contributed mhm and yeah to the conversation.
“so what about you? what type of content do you do? maybe we can collab sometime.” he said with a smirk.
but it just wasn’t the same.
no, it was never the same. for the last month you tried to find that familiar smirk in the faces of multiple other men, trying to distract yourself from the truth.
and the truth was, there really wasn’t anyone else like chris.
you momentarily glanced behind the man in front of you, only to see the face of the man occupying your thoughts.
there it was. there he was, watching your every move, and if it were anyone else it would be creepy. but not chris. with chris, it was actually the opposite, you felt safer knowing he was watching.
“y/n?” the boring man snapped you out of your very dangerous thoughts.
“sorry, what did you say?” he must’ve been still talking while you were staring over to chris. you took another quick glance over to him but he had disappeared.
“i asked if you wanted to go out with me.” he repeated himself.
what?
“i-” you tried to make up some excuse, any excuse, but there was only one you could think of.
“i’ve already got someone.”
his response was curt and flat, but you paid no mind to what he said. you were already put off by how he droned on and on about himself. and when he did finally ask you something about yourself, it was only a segue into him asking you out, which would have only led to mediocre sex and leaving unsatisfied.
chris may have had his faults, but he never left you unsatisfied.
the nameless boring man had made his exit shortly after your lie confession, and it left you alone with a decision to make.
you could either:
a. enjoy the rest of the party and go home with your friends.
or b. find chris and give in to the undeniable fact that you love the little game you play.
as you walked around the house to find chris, you made a quick pit stop to the kitchen to pour yourself one last drink before making a decision you could easily regret tomorrow.
from there you could see chris, talking to a girl. more importantly he was talking to a girl that wasn’t you. interesting.
“baby, i’ve been looking for you everywhere!” you smiled sweetly, ignoring the girl in front of him. you found great satisfaction in knowing you had used his own tricks against him.
“baby? you didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.” she scoffed and made her way to the next good looking man she could find.
chris looked at you, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
“thought we couldn’t say that anymore.”
you placed a hand on his chest, rising on your tiptoes to meet the shell of his ear, “i’ve changed my mind. don’t you wanna stop playing now?”
chris let out a sigh, before grabbing your hand to hold it in his. it was significantly larger than yours, something he knew you loved. the difference in size between you and him made you dizzy.
“i’ve waited a whole month for you to give up.”
quick. the movement of chris slamming the door on one of the guest rooms to push you up against it and smash his lips to yours.
desperate. the way your hands moved to his face, neck, arms.
you didn’t even realise just how badly you wanted to kiss him until you were doing it, and he was exactly the same, prodding his tongue into your mouth and softly grunting into you.
chris walked you backwards, not allowing you to break from the more than passionate kiss, until your back was flat against the bed.
you allowed your heels to slide off of your feet into the floor, and chris matched your actions, pulling his shoes off his feet.
he pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it beside his shoes and then tending to yours.
you immediately lifted your body to undo your bra, revealing the sweet mounds of flesh that chris had been dying to touch again.
and he did. taking a tit in one hand and kneading while he attached his mouth to the other.
you moaned quietly, which only spurred him on more.
releasing your nipple with a pop, he spoke, “missed this body.”
“enough talking,” you replied, “give me what i want.”
chris smirked, yet again, and you felt like he was acutely aware of the fact that you were addicted to that face. you knew he saved it for you, too. despite all of the other girls, despite all of the arguments you found yourself in, you knew he never looked at anyone else like that.
you were nothing like them other bitches.
“what is it that you want, hm?” he pulled your skirt down your legs, opening them wide, “you want me to touch you?”
his hand snaked up your thigh, a single finger dragging from the base of your panties, up to your clit. you shuddered at the motion.
“you want me to taste you?” he hooked the same finger to the waistband of your underwear and pulled down.
all you could do was watch as he teased you.
“tell me. i won’t know what you want until you speak, princess.”
he was sadistic in that way. chris wanted to make you voice exactly what you needed, otherwise he would leave you wet and on the edge. it was all part of the game.
“just want to feel you, baby. i need- ah!” you weren’t even able to finish your sentence as chris dipped his head down and licked a stripe up your cunt.
he was the only one who knew how to make you fall apart. you hated him for it, hated the fact he knew your body like the back of his hand. most of all you hated how much you couldn’t hate him no matter how hard you convinced yourself you did.
“keep making those sounds, baby. you know i love it.” he sloppily ate your pussy, his large hands underneath your thighs to hold your legs open.
“fuck you,” you spat, without much conviction, since the feeling of his warm tongue diving into your puffy cunt had you reeling and moaning.
“i plan to,” he teased, “just gotta taste this pussy first.”
your hand flew to his hair as he continued lapping up the arousal leaking out of you, tugging on the strands.
it was dizzying the way he made out with your cunt, eating like a starved man. you started bucking your hips into his face, wanting more.
but he wasn’t going to let you cum on his face. not tonight. he was selfish, and only wanted you to release all over his cock, which was throbbing at every moan that left your lips.
chris removed himself from the warm embrace of your pussy, to your dismay, before ridding himself of his pants.
“stop whining. i won’t hold back when i fuck you.” he took his dick in his hand and pumped himself as you watched impatiently.
“maybe i should just cum like this and leave you clenching around nothing,” he hovered over you, “is that what you want?”
obviously that wasn’t what you wanted. what you wanted was to make him sweat, and take control over him so he would stop running his pretty little mouth. you replaced his hand with yours and stroked up and down his dick, causing him to shudder.
“no, i want you to stop talking and just fuck me. or did you forget how? is that why you’re taking so long?” in a matter of seconds it was him who was under you. you lowered yourself down towards his leaking tip, only allowing the first inch of his cock to be inside you, as you watched his breathing get heavier with want.
“not so fun being teased is it? maybe i should just touch myself instead and you can finish yourself off in the bathroom while you think all about me.” as toxic as you both were, you really did get a kick out of torturing him this way.
“go ahead. we both know you want this as much as i do.”
you sighed dramatically before speaking, “mm, you’re right.” and sank down until he was fully buried inside of you. you let out a deep whine at the full feeling, and he sighed shakily. you were just as tight as he remembered.
you began to bounce slowly, almost pulling yourself off him completely before slamming back down. chris’ hands were glued to your hips, squeezing tightly almost as if he were purposefully trying to leave bruises. you started picking up the pace.
all that could be heard in the room were your bodies slapping together, and the mixture of your moans and his grunts as you fucked yourself on his cock.
“fuck, baby,” chris groaned, as he grabbed your hips impossibly tighter and thrusted up into you, “feels so good.” and he was right. the feeling of his dick hitting the walls of your cervix was mind numbing.
“a-ah, chris! want you to, fuck, hit it from the back.” you breathed.
chris didn’t need to be told twice. he loved fucking you from behind. he pulled you off of him, and you got on all fours like it was instinct. chris didn’t waste any time to slip back inside of you, the feeling of your walls clenching around him was too good for him to tease you.
grabbing a fistful of your hair, he slammed into your cunt over and over, throwing his head back in bliss.
“who else can fuck you like this, huh? it’s why you always come crawling back to me, princess. no one else can stuff you full like me. admit it.” he grunted, thrusting harder, and faster, and deeper.
“there’s no one—oh, fuck!” as soon as you spoke, chris slowed right down, pressing deep inside you, using your hips to pull you into him and giving you short, quick thrusts.
“ahhhh, chris, right there…” you mewled.
“you were saying?” what an asshole.
“there’s no one, like you.” you choked out finally.
“yeah? you’re all mine, baby. this pussy is all mine.” and then the relentless fucking continued.
it was if your words were a catalyst to the best sex he had ever given you. abusing your cunt like it was his property, like you were just made for him to fuck. chris had you seeing stars, you knuckles going white from how hard you were gripping the bedsheets below you. letting out the most pornographic sounds, because you were all his. as much as it pissed you off to admit, even to yourself, the reason you couldn’t shake him was because you didn’t want to. you couldn’t, not when he was fucking you so good.
“chris, fuck fuck fuck i’m gonna cum. baby, don’t stop, oh my god, i fucking love you!” you cried, coming hard and fast in the same way he was fucking you.
chris felt his dick throb at your words, babbling them out in a sex-filled daze. his thrusts had become erratic and sloppy, only focusing on the clench of your pussy sucking him in like it wanted him to stay buried inside it forever.
“yeah, you love me. yeah, you fuckin’ love me. i love you too, baby. gonna cum, gonna cum, i’m—” chris spilled into you, whining and moaning as he let you take every last drop of it. he slowly pulled out of you, watching the some of mixture of your cum drop out of your hole.
you were truly spent. you moved to lie down on your back.
“so, did i make you fall in love again, or nah?” he smirked, his softened dick tucked back into his underwear. you rolled your eyes.
“just because we fucked doesn’t mean we’re back together.” you rebutted. a lie.
“what happened to ‘i fucking love you, mmm!’” he mocked you, smiling.
“could say the same to you. you said you loved me too.”
“that’s because i do love you.” he responded.
you weren’t expecting that. “you do?”
“i was talking to your pussy.”
you hit him with the drool covered pillow that was under your head, “fuck off.” chris only chuckled at you.
“of course i love you. so are we back together or no?” he asked you.
“this is the last time i will be your girlfriend, do you understand me? next time we break up that’s it.” you warned him.
“pretty sure you said that last time.”
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
a/n wow that was a long long chapter i feel like. also i’ve changed my writing layout. doesn’t it look so chic??? i’m going to go through all my posts and change it to this so do not mind me :p
on a separate note, i want a toxic boyfriend like this. i have problems. bye!
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© APCYLPTC 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.
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fairlyang · 7 months ago
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Meant to be 🕷️
⋆˙⟡♡✧˖° love island au x miguel o’hara ⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°
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★‧°𖦹。⋆ miguel o’hara x mexicana!bombshell!reader ⋆。𖦹°‧★
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ W/C: 2.9K
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ CONTENT: miguel prepping on being honest, saved by the bell (got a text!), first date, accidental matching, maybe a new connection
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ SUMMARY: how will your first date as a bombshell go? how will the islanders react to the news? keep reading to find out!
previous part — next part — series masterlist
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Chapter 1. Maybe
Miguel was preparing himself for that dreading conversation by the daybeds with Peter B, who was giving him a pep talk.
He felt bad that he wasn’t feeling that strong of a connection like she did, he thought he may as well be up front and honest and just rip off the bandaid but ultimately it would have to wait when he suddenly gets a text.
“I got a text!!!” Miguel yelled and there were gasps from all over the villa before everyone ran up to him and Peter B.
“What’s it say?!?” Asked Dana, who he was coupled up with, quickly plopped down next to him and tried peering over his shoulder but he instead leaned onto Peter.
Loads of bodies on the daybed and the one next to it as everyone had wide eyes awaiting for Miguel to tell them. He moved his phone to the side, letting Peter B read it.
Miguel burst out laughing and Peter B was slapping his arm trying to hide his own laughter but ultimately failed. “What is it?!?” Asked MJ, the redhead who was coupled up with Peter B.
Miguel calmed himself down and cleared his throat, “Miguel, the public have decided you should go on a date with me.” He could practically feel all the eyes on him and Dana shifted next to him as he continued, “I’m waiting for you in the hot tub on the hideaway terrace, come and join me. Love Y/n. #FirstDateFeels #NewConnections”
As soon as the words “hot tub” came out of his mouth all the guys screamed and jumped on top of him which made Dana scoff and get off the bed as the other girls exchanged looks.
“This is just what you needed!” Peter B whispered in his ear as the other three og guys and the two newbies were hyping Miguel up.
“You gotta change!” David said and laughed.
They all got off him and they all helped him up before quickly leading him away from the daybeds and to go inside to change, to avoid Dana’s expected wrath.
They all ran up and went inside before cheering as soon as the door closed.
All the guys screamed for Miguel and hugged him, knowing this was the perfect opportunity for him to explore other options considering Dana put all her eggs and more into his basket already.
“This could not have come at a better time man!!” Daniel said giving him a grin before patting him on the back.
Miguel waves him off as he looks through his designated drawer and picks a red pair of swim trunks. “No seriously because think about it, if you have a better connection with this girl, you’ll get a chance to stay away from godzilla.” The second Peter stated making Miguel burst out laughing.
“She isn’t that bad…” Peter B says and the rest of them turn to look at him with the same look on their faces.
“Alright she’s bad.” He sighs and shrugs, “but maybe this girl will be normal and who knows maybe the one.” He adds, elbowing Miguel’s side as he took his shirt off.
“Maybe.” Miguel mumbled as he fixed the strings of his trunks before stuffing his phone in his pocket.
“And the public chose you for her, so who knows maybe they’ll be the perfect matchmakers.” Peter says enthusiastically making Miguel nod and hope this goes well.
“How do I look?” He asks and walks over to the mirror by the first bed.
He fixed his hair then turned to the guys and they give him pats on the back, hyping him up before letting him walk off by himself.
He took a few deep breathes before walking out of the bedroom and past the lounge room, opening the door to the hideaway and walking in. His nerves hit him and he thought of how he hadn’t felt that spark yet, he really wanted to feel it like how both Peter’s already have with MJ and Gwen.
He wanted to have his own happy ending. He wanted to find love so badly.
And you wanted the same.
You’d been sat on top of the edge of the hot tub for a good ten minutes before you finally heard footsteps and you straightened up, fixing the straps of your bikini when he walked out.
All the nerves had left his body as soon as he saw you, probably the most gorgeous girl he’s laid his eyes on.
You were wearing a red two piece bikini that had straps crossed over your body, the bikini bottom’s straps made an x across your stomach with them sitting perfectly on your waist.
The bikini top’s straps were tightened perfectly to uplift your tits, not exaggeratedly but enough to catch some eyes.
Which it obviously did.
Miguel took a quick look, checking you out while giving you a wide grin which you returned. “Hello.” You say and let out a little laugh, not really expecting how to go about this.
“Hey, how are you?” He asks walking closer to the hot tub but first setting aside a towel and his phone to a chair.
“I’m good, how are you?” You respond and take the singular second to admire his back, the way every muscle moved to the tiniest of movements he made.
“Better now honestly.” He jokes making you chuckle.
His journey had been one that caught your eye, the girl he’s coupled up with has been quite…. Possessive.
Which is insane in itself because it’s barely the fourth night but now looking at him in person versus a screen, you somewhat understood.
“Wanna join me?” You asked and he turned around quickly nodding before climbing up the stairs and carefully stepping in.
You stood up and went in for a hug which he gladly accepted before you kissed each others cheeks then separated. You went back to your corner and sat down while he sat down in front of you. “Seems we accidentally matched tonight huh?” You joke and he laughs looking down at his red trunks and your matching bikini.
“Seems so. Who knows maybe it’s meant to be.” He jokes back with a little shrug making you nod and shrug as well.
“I guess we‘ll have to see.” You reply and sit back trying to hide the smile on your face.
He was already so easy to talk to.
“So what do you do for a living?” He asks and you straighten up.
“I just graduated from nursing school a few weeks ago!” You say to which he gasps and nods.
“Wait so how old are you?” He asks, looking at you so intently.
“I am twenty four, I took a bit of a break from school and got back into it when I was twenty where I found my love for medicine and helping people.” You explained and he nodded.
“You said you were a geneticist right?” You asked and he nodded once again.
“Guess we’re both little science nerds then huh?” You say making him laugh.
“Definitely wouldn’t expect to find someone who likes science out here.” He says making you chuckle.
“Well I’m glad I’m here then.” You respond, making him grin.
“What do you like to do in your free time?” You ask and he takes a second to think before responding, “I like going out to get drinks and going to soccer games with my friends, when I can anyway because I do work a lot.”
“Ah so this is like a vacation for you huh?” You joke making him chuckle.
“In a way for sure. I mean we’re in beautiful Spain so can’t complain, and being surrounded by great company is also a plus.” He says with a cheeky smile and that last part made your heart jump a beat.
“Well I’m definitely with good company right now so my time is off to an amazing start.” You respond and give him your own smile, slowly feeling your cheeks grow warm.
“What would you get up to when you’re not burying yourself in textbooks?” He asks, making you laugh.
“Well when I could I’d go out to clubs with my friends and even rarely concerts, which I absolutely love but had such a hard time going to because of how jam-packed my schedule would be.” You explain and his eyes were on you the whole time, taking in every word you spoke as if he wanted to remember every detail about you.
“What kind of concerts have you gone to?” He asks because he was interested and mainly trying to figure out if you were a latina or not.
Sometimes he couldn’t tell just from looks but he was almost certain.
Finally your time has come to hopefully bring out his Spanish because you heard him speak a little with the guys but he hasn’t fully brought it out.
“Bad bunny, Karol G, Kali Uchis, Rauw, El Alfa.” You reply and he grins.
“Te quise preguntar pero no estaba seguro.” He says and you laugh. (I wanted to ask you but I wasn’t sure)
“Entiendo, aveces no se sabe.” You say and he nods. (I get it, sometimes you don’t know)
“Y que buena selección de cantantes para que sepas.” He compliments and your eyes widen. (And what a good selection of singers just so you know)
“Tambien te gustan?” You ask, first thing you think is how much hotter this’ll make him. (You also like them)
“Todos están buenos.” He replies, making you squeal. (They’re all really good)
“Ya te hiciste como mil veces más mejor en mis ojos.” You joke making him snicker. (You just got like a thousand times better in my eyes)
“Tan fácil eh?” He jokes back making you roll your eyes. (So easy eh?)
He laughs and it was so contagious you were laughing along with him.
You looked at him and he looked so fucking good. Hair chiseled back, a silver necklace around his neck, and that smile-
He was your type on paper for sure.
Not only was he handsome but was so easy to talk to. It’s a miracle nowadays that a man can hold a decent conversation and wants to know things about you.
And not to mention how you feel a bit of a spark already. Hopefully it wouldn’t be one sided and there could be potential there.
But first you had a question in your head that you just had to ask.
“So how are you feeling about your couple?” You ask, having been dying to know that scoop since seeing his talk with the boys about being unsure he feels anything.
“Hard questions already?” He says making you burst out laughing.
“I feel like this is a very basic question.” You challenge and he hums.
“Just going right in?” He teases and you nod.
“Might as well right?” You say with a little shrug, trying to be nonchalant about it.
“God- well I was going to have a chat with her about my thoughts before your message came in actually.” He answers and you chuckle.
“Ah so it was a saved by the bell kind of thing?” You joke and he shakes his head, trying not to laugh.
“Well I wouldn’t phrase it like that but I guess you did kind of save me.” He admits making you smile.
“So I’m gonna be honest I feel like I’m just not feeling it with her, at least not as much as she is and it just feels awful. For her it was immediate and I just haven’t felt a thing.” He confesses and you nod.
“I feel like in here it’s just going to be based off chemistry and a spark, so if you don’t feel it within days…” you start and wait for his reaction before continuing.
When he nods in agreement is when you continue, “that’s when you really just gotta be honest because I can imagine how fast time flies by in here.”
“You’ve got no idea.” He mutters making you give him a sympathetic smile.
“I hope your time here is less stressful though!” You quickly say, making him chuckle.
“Me too, maybe you can help me with that.” He says and it slipped out so smoothly you could’ve just melted into a puddle in front of him.
“I’ll help in any way I can.” You reply and chuckle.
You felt all sorts of butterflies in your stomach and you’d have to thank the public later.
“So how about I stop hogging you and you can go meet the rest of the islanders?” He jokes and you pout.
“Aw I was having such a good time.” You say and stand up.
There was tons of water dripping down your body which had Miguel having to remind himself to be a gentleman and not ogle.
He stood up as well and his body was just absolutely incredible. Unfortunately you didn’t have the self control like he did.
Not only was he above 6’0 but he was buff and those muscles-
Suddenly he reaches his hand out to you, to help you out of the tub to which you accept as you carefully climb out of it and get onto the first step. You go down the other three and he lets go but only to pass you a towel.
“Thank you!” You say and dry yourself off since you got shivers from the slight wind.
“Course.” He replies and grabs another towel from the swing that one of the production members must’ve left.
“I’m just gonna be sitting everywhere all wet.” You groan as you dry your legs, making him laugh.
“Don’t think anyone’s gonna complain about that..” He mumbles but you heard him crystal clear.
You burst out laughing then smack his arm, shaking your head in disbelief. “No digas eso-“ you utter in between laughs while attempting to put your heels on at the same time and somehow able to do it. (Don’t say that-)
He just laughs as you cover yourself in the towel but as you go inside the hideaway there’s a producer shaking their head no. You pout and just throw it by a chair on the terrace and then follow Miguel out of the hideaway.
He grabs your hand and leads you to the lounge room where there’s a few couches and then the doghouse for when someone acts up. “No one has slept here yet.” He jokes and you just chuckle.
“Maybe soon someone’ll be sleeping here.” You joke back and he snickers.
“Honestly it might be me..” he says as you guys walk into the bedroom, taking notice of the row of beds.
They’re all surprisingly made and neat.
“I didn’t want to be the one to say it…” you joke making him playfully roll his eyes.
“Oh my god the bedroom is so much bigger than I thought.” You mumbled as he leads you towards the door.
“In that case the garden is going to be enormous.” He laughs and you giggle.
He opens the door and lets go of your hand just so you can go out first, “que caballero.” You tease and he waves you off, a huge grin on his face. (what a gentleman)
“Wait when was your last relationship?” He quickly asks as he closes the door.
“You’re asking that now when I’m probably gonna tell everyone that anyway?” You ask and he nods.
He sticks his arm out for you and you link yours to his as you both walk the little catwalk before you’re able to hear the sound of people talking and laughing all throughout the villa. “Maybe I wanna know before everyone else.”
“It was two years ago, he acted like a boy when I needed a man.” You whisper to him and he hums.
“Think you’ll find a man here?” He whispers back, turning to his left to look at you.
“Maybe I already have.” You whisper and give him a wink.
He was barely able to control his reaction and just stayed silent before he did too much so early.
Instead he thinks of the next best thing. “You ready?” He whispers and you nod.
Even though your nerves came in, you were ready. If anything having such a good conversation with him was like preparation to meet everyone.
Miguel being so kind and sweet was really such a good start to what would be an interesting journey.
“Absolutely.” You whisper back and now there was silence.
You both turned a corner and the kitchen was in full view where you saw all the guys together.
“Helloooooo islanders!!!” You yell and the guys instantly cheer, whistle and clap, meanwhile you don’t hear a beep from a singular girl.
This was going to be good.
next part
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cartierre · 2 years ago
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COMO TE QUIERO YO | ln4
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norrix x latina!reader
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lando.jpg cabo san lucas, mexico. summer break 2022
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daniel3.jpg oh la la! ⤷ user1 DANNY HAHAHAHA
user2 does lando have a new girlfriend or am i tripping rn cuz i know this isn't luisa ⤷ user3 how can you tell ⤷ user2 cuz she posted a story where she was in paris with friends ⤷ user4 they broke up like two months ago or so ⤷ user5 i feel sorry for whoever this girl is because she probably is just a rebound ⤷ user6 not y'all assuming about their relationship lmao
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lando.jpg late night shenanigans
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user7 what kind of summer is lando having this boy is out here wilding around
user8 L-LANDO IS THIS ALLOWED ⤷ user9 did he just post some girl's tramp stamp??
daniel3.jpg "summer's" been treating you good mate ⤷ user10 daniel teasing lando through the comments takes the cake ⤷ user11 i just know the drivers' gc is going bonkers rn
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tagged: landonorris
f1wagupdates New girlfriend alarm? Lando Norris was spotted picking up a girl in his McLaren from the airport. Is this the girl he posted multiple pictures of during his trip through Mexico? Many say he was looking for a rebound after his break-up with long term girlfriend Luisinha Oliveira, but does someone fly their rebound out to their hometown? Guess we'll have to stay tuned for more!
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user12 lando is so whipped ⤷ user13 the power of latinas ⤷ user14 amen
user15 he flew her out to monaco after his trip? bro must be in love love ⤷ user16 guess we'll see if he also brings her to bahrain after the summer break is over
user17 i think i found her insta, i'm not sure because lando doesn't follow but her posts align with his' ⤷ user18 okay stalker... what's her @? ⤷ user17 yourusername
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yourusername guess i could get used to frequent trips to monaco
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user18 and we're sure she's not just some girl? ⤷ user19 yeah i mean just because she's mexican and now conveniently is in monaco doesn't mean she's the girl lando's been messing around with
user20 if this is the girl lando's with, geez my boy has some good karma ⤷ user21 yeah like why yould someone as pretty as her sleep with someone as crusty as lando ⤷ user22 wdym 'crusty' lando's actually really pretty ⤷ user23 he behaves like a child
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yourusername tiro caliente (hot shot)
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user24 omg she's dropping some serious hints guys ⤷ user25 the breadcrumps we needed
user26 the orange car? lando? i mean... ⤷ user27 how many people own an orange mclaren. it's obvious at this point it's lando
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tagged: danielricciardo
lando.jpg princess treatment after a tough weekend
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daniel3.jpg are you getting the princess treatment? ⤷ user28 i hope lando does lmao
user29 omg yourusername actually liked this post??? ⤷ user30 this is a sign, the sign we've been waiting for. it's her
yourusername the only treatment one deserves ⤷ user31 it'S YOU
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tagged: landonorris
yourusername 4 lifers
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user32 i- what ⤷ user33 this was so unexpected ⤷ user34 was it?
landonorris did my pr team give you the go? ⤷ yourusername they love me ⤷ user35 someone tell me if this is sarcasm or not
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tagged: yourusername
lando.jpg como te quiero yo (how i love you)
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yourusername lando we need to go back to mexico i'm loosing my good tan ⤷ lando.jpg 7 more races until we're back in mexico
user36 yeah okay i understand lando, i'm also in love
user37 still weird how fast he moved on ⤷ user38 he's an f1 driver what did you expect
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kiatheinsomniac · 1 year ago
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hi kia :) are you doing ok? i hope you are queen 💃 I was wondering if you could write how the assassins (altair, ezio, connor, arno, jacob) would react to a reader who suddenly passed out after standing up too fast 😭 it happened to me yesterday and it made me laugh so hard afterwards like thats the goofiest way to pass out ever 💀 iron deficiency queen 👏
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☾ ⋆ ゚𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: bestie mood. i stand up too quickly and immediately go semi-blind and have to lean on things for support lol 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: altaïr, ezio, ratonhnhaké:ton | connor, arno, jacob 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none
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。・:*˚:✧。 altaïr ibn-la'ahad
♡ he's got the fastest reflexes you've ever seen, he's lunging to catch you so you don't fall or hit your head. He immediately checks that you're still breathing and will cup your face in his hands and give firm pats to your cheeks while talking loudly to you, trying to pull you back to consciousness
♡ when he finds out why you've passed out, he's immediately reprimanding you and sending you to go and eat enough nutritious foods.
。・:*˚:✧。 ezio auditore
♡ he wasn't quick enough to catch you yes this is based on how quick you have to be to interact with the game or you don't get to hug Leonardo sobs but he does immediately check you over for injury, your head being the first he checks. He lays you on your back with your head in his lap as he waits the few moments it takes for you to return to consciousness
♡ he immediately begins to ask how you feel and if anywhere hurts and wants to know if you're sick or if you've been eating or drinking enough. He'll pick you up bridal style and cook you a meal himself if it's older Ezio but younger Ezio will lay you down somewhere cosy while he sends for a servant to cook for you.
。・:*˚:✧。 ratonhnhaké:ton | connor kenway
♡ he won't show it but he panics. He's watched his village be burned to the ground as a child and his life's work revolves around killing people so when he sees you drop to the floor, his first though isn't that you've fainted but that you've died.
♡ he soon gets over that moment of gut-wrenching panic though and comes to his senses, immediately checking you over for injury, checking your temperature and your breathing. He sets you down somewhere comfortable, assuming you're now on your way to bruising from hitting the ground. He makes sure that you get plenty to eat and drink, trying to use the most nutritious ingredients he can for you.
。・:*˚:✧。 arno dorian
♡ another one who panics due to childhood trauma: when he sees someone laid on the floor like that, for a moment, that awful memory of his father flashes before his eyes. He's not so good at hiding his concern as Connor is though. The panic is evident in his voice as he calls out to you and dashes to your side.
♡ Arno knows to make sure that you haven't hit your head or anything and he sets your head in his lap while he waits for you to regain consciousness. When your eyes do open again and you look up at him, you'll see teary eyes and shaking hands on him. But he's just relieved you're ok. You'll get a very pointed tongue-lashing from him following by him insisting on making sure you're well-fed and hydrated
。・:*˚:✧。 jacob frye
♡ with quick reflexes and his very extroverted personality, Jacob is either fast enough to catch you or surrounded by some Rooks who he can call to so they can break your fall if he's too far. His first worry is that you're overworking yourself so he makes sure you get a break from work
♡ cannot cook to save his life so he's had to go out and order food to bring back for you (or he's begged Evie to cook for which he now owes her many favours) but he insists that you eat and drink well to recover
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☾ ⋆ ゚like my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging
🏷️@gojohater101 @ayameiris4 @veryfancydoilies @asuni921  @writing-noah @danielle-marie @minimisthios @tired-lime @ghostofpolaris @etherealsdreaming @loopycorn1123 @jofie-does-things @havatnah @weasleytwins-41 @firagirl @catou1305 @daddyadler @b3k1720 @asianbutnotjapanese
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love-belle · 2 years ago
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used to love you !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which he lost her just as she was getting used to love him.
or
for when it all breaks down. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // daniel ricciardo x fem!reader
sequel - i loved you so hard for a time ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language
author's note - here it is!! let me know if you'd like a part ii!! thank you so much for reading, i love you <3
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername "used to love you" is finally out!!! ❤️❤️❤️
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username OH MY GOD
username JUST WHEN I WAS GETTING USED TO LOVE YOU???????? YOU JUST WALKED AWAY??????????
username ahahahahha!!! im in denial!!!!!!! im delusional!!!!!!!!!!!!!
username no daniel here............
-> username im afraid the streets weren't lying 💔💔💔
lewishamilton the most amazing song ever 🤍🤍🤍
-> yourusername lewis i adore u
username the you can FEEL the hurt in her voice
username daniel it's on SIGHT the next time i see u
username nah he fumbled so bad bruh
username IM CRYING WHAT THE FUCK
carmenmmundt so proud of you darling ❤️
-> yourusername i love you ❤️❤️❤️
username the way she gave it her all 🫤🫤🫤
username i bet daniel's tearing up somewhere cus he lost a bad bitch fr
username THE WAY IM SLIDING DOWN THE WALL IN PAIN OMG
username i am unwell
lilymhe the best ❤️‍🩹
-> yourusername yes u are
username IM SO???? IM A CHILD OF DIVORCE????
username the way im sobbing omg
landonorris love u!!
-> yourusername lando <3
username i guess everyone picked sides in the divorce huh
-> username as they should
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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whimsiwitchy · 7 months ago
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I hear the secrets that you keep (series)
chapter one: a new beginning
Pedro Pascal x F!reader 
series masterlist
series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and it slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.
Warnings: plus size reader (no specific description of reader, slight descriptions of weight: stomach fat, stretch marks, etc.), hefty age gap (24 years/14 years), female anatomy description, she/her pronouns, use of gendered terms (girl, girly, etc.), y/n used, descriptions of nudity, swearing,  use of the word fat, warnings may change as the story progresses. 
authors note: Hi everyone. This is my first time writing anything, so this might end up being pretty bad lmao. I kinda have an idea of where I want to take this and want to continue this even if no one reads it. Please let me know what you think! Thank you and enjoy. <3
chapter summary: Angie books y/n an audition opportunity and she is terrified. Y/n reflects on her insecurities and heads to the audition room. 
╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗
It was 9am and you’ve been staring at an email Angie had sent earlier in the morning. The subject read “AUDITION INFO BIATCH”. This would usually be deemed pretty unprofessional for an agent to send a client but Angie wasn’t just  your agent, she was also your long time best friend. You both had big dreams of making it big in Los Angeles and made the move six years ago. While you continued to search for acting jobs, Angie decided to become an agent after years of no luck. You wished you could give up, maybe gain some happiness back instead of having constant disappointment running around your head like it was trying to win a goddamn gold medal at the olympics. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Good morning sunshine, 
You have an audition scheduled for 3PM tomorrow! I attached all the details down below. If you need anything, give me a call babe! 
Sincerely, 
Angie Hawthorn (aka the best agent ever hehe) 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You read over the email and clicked on the files attached. One file was the original casting call information describing what they are looking for and a description of the project. The other was an audition offer explaining what you needed to prepare and where the audition would be held. You clicked on the casting call file and began to read it. 
“Fleeting Productions presents Risky Disco directed by Samual James.”
You stared blankly at the first sentence. “That is such a stupid fucking move title..” you huffed under your breath. You shook your head and continued reading. 
“Starring Pedro Pascal as Daniel Mendez. Daniel travels back in time to the 70s to live his dream of being a disco king. On his journey, he takes lovers every chance he gets and swears to himself that he won’t fall in love.” 
You picked your phone and called Angie. When she answers the phone she greets you with excitement.
“Y/n! Oh my god are you excited?!? This can be your big break. Your first audition for a big production company!!” You stared blankly at the wall while she spoke. “You’re fucking with me right? Like you have to actually be fucking with me..” You said with exasperation. She was silent for a moment. “What do you mean? This is great y/n. I’m not sure-” You cut her off before she could continue. “Angie, I need you to be so fucking for real right now. Did you read that shit show of a description?” She didn’t answer for a moment. “What’s so bad about it?” “Ang…you’re telling me, you saw this casting call, and thought of me? You have known me for how long? What about me is screaming 70s lover girl to a disco maniac? First of all, I'm fat. You know F A T. Fat girls don’t exist in the 70s it’s like-” The line goes dead. “Hello? Ang I’m trying to rant to you over here, don’t you care?” You looked down and noticed she hung up on you. “That stupid bitch.” You say in aggravation. As you go to call her again, a text pops up.
“Call me when you’re done being a self shaming loser <3”
You sighed and sat your phone down. You know that what you say isn’t always nice and you also know that Angie can’t stand when you talk down on yourself. It’s become a bad habit you can’t seem to break. You grab your water bottle from your night stand, take a sip, and continue to read over the audition information. 
“Our casting directors are looking for 12 women from the ages 35-40. All weights accepted. All skin tones accepted. One role will be filled as the leading lady alongside the leading male. The 11 other roles will be filled as lovers of the leading male. Each role may include sexual acts with a male actor as well as partial or full nudity. All actors will work closely with an intimacy coach before all scenes.” 
Okay, you definitely owe Angie an apology since they're throwing a weight limit out the window on this film. This film has the potential to be very… wait what the fuck does that say? You pick up your phone to call Angie again. 
“Are you done being a loser?” 
“Angie, honey, darling, my love…Why does it say that the age requirements are 35-40? I’m trying to be very calm about this right now but I really need to know what you were thinking in that little pea brain of yours? Hm.. a 24 year old auditioning for a role that is for a middle aged woman, what was the thought process behind that one love?” 
“Y/n I need you to keep that calm demeanor when I tell you this. Can you do that?” You think about your answer and sigh. “Yes I can do that. Spill the beans.” “Okay so, I might have sort of lied and said that you were 35…” You stood silent on the other end for a few seconds. “YOU DID WHAT???” “Y/n calm down it-” “HOW IN THE WORLD IS MY FRESH 24 YEAR OLD BABY FACE GOING TO PRETEND TO BE 35?? HUH ANGIE??” “Well you don’t have that much of a baby face, you can pull off 35.” “I’m gonna hang up now before I actually kick you in the head.” You hung up the phone and screamed into your pillow. 
It can’t be that hard to pretend to be 35 right? You sat up and set your head in your hands and took some deep breaths. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
After your mini freak out yesterday you went to work and got home at 8pm. You showered, ate, did some rehearsing, and hit the hay. You woke up at 7am the next morning and began getting ready for your audition. You searched pinterest to look for an appropriate outfit for a 35 year old. As you descaled your closet, you began to feel hopeless. After settling for an outfit, you headed to the kitchen to eat some breakfast and do some warmups. As it got closer to audition time, you started to feel the nervous butterflies entering your tummy. You took your phone off the charger to send Angie a quick text. 
“I’m sorry for freaking out on you yesterday, please forgive me my love. ♥ ️ Also OOTD, do I look 35? Oh and why the fuck are they casting that age for a disco movie… Love you!” You went to sit your phone down but immediately got a response from Angie. 
“It’s okay, you don’t look a day under 40 babe <3. And girl idk. I think it’s because Pedro is pushing 50.” 
“Okay fuck you. Who’s Pedro?” 
“Ummmm… the leading male. Like the whole ass dude you're probably going to be getting down and dirty with if you get this part. Did you not look him up?” 
“There ain’t no fucking way you lied about my age so I can bump and grind with a 50 year old man… I’m actually going to kill you.”
“Girl he’s hot as fuck, I’m doing you a favor. Who gives a shit if he's old, he can get it ANY day ;)” 
“You’re fucking gross dude. I gotta head out soon to try to beat a little bit of the traffic. Wish me luck. Love you!!”
“Love you girly, break a leg!”
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
You turned into the studio lot and parked when you found the building the auditions were being held in. You’ve been to the studios more times than you can count, but this time felt different. This time felt real. You entered the building and walked up to a woman at a desk. “Hi, I’m here for an audition.” You smiled and she handed you a form to fill out. Once you were finished you handed it back to her and she instructed you to wait until your name was called. You looked around as you sat and waited. There were only 4 other women waiting in the room. As you looked at them, all of your insecurities started to pour out. This was not the time to be doubting yourself. You settled on looking down at your shoes instead. Each woman was called back one by one until you were the only one left. 
“Y/n Y/l/n?” You got up and greeted the man that called your name. As you followed him to the back your heart began to pound. Once you got to the door, you shook out your nerves and plastered the most sincere smile you could muster. 
You opened the door and walked up to a table in the back of the room. You shook everyone's hands and handed them your material. You stood in the center of the room and began your slate. After the prepared material was performed, they asked you various questions. You were answering with all honesty. Even flying by their questioning of your age. “Your paper states that you're 35. You look really young for that age.” You gulped “Just good genes I guess.” You gave them a laugh and a smile to which they returned. “We’re going to have to do a quick reading with some sides from the movie if that’s okay with you?” “Of course, that would be great!”.
You got into character as they handed you the slides. “You’ll actually be reading with the leading man himself. Pedro, whenever you’re ready go ahead and start.” You looked over to where the man looked when he spoke. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at who they spoke to, Pedro you assumed. He smirked as you stared. How didn’t you notice him before? With a face that handsome, you’re thankful you somehow skipped over it. He for sure would have had you shaking with even more nerves. 
“You ready to start sweetheart?” You could have melted into a puddle right then and there. After a few seconds of silence you collected yourself. “Yea, I’m ready.” He gave you a smile and looked into your eyes. The two of you flowed through the lines with ease. It was like butter melting perfectly on a warm piece of toast. The type of toast that is so perfect, you don’t need to add jelly at all. It’s golden and beautiful. The chemistry between you two was golden. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
4 hours later…
The reading with Pedro was intense. There are no other words to describe it. Everything felt so natural and it was electric. The whole room got 10 degrees warmer by the end. Once the reading was over, everyone thanked you for your time and you were dismissed. You thanked them and gave a quick bye. You tried to sneak one last glance at Pedro but he was already looking at you. These memories that happened just a few hours prior keep swimming in your head. No matter how hard you tried to think about something else, you couldn’t stop thinking about the handsome man and how he looked at you.
You’re yanked out of your thoughts when your phone starts ringing. It was Angie. 
“Hey Ang, what’s up?” 
“Bitch….you must have left one hell of an impression.” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“Y/n you got the lead!” 
“Oh shit..” 
╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝ 
Thank you for reading <3
chapter two
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nwjenz · 2 years ago
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LOVESICK kang haerin x reader
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warnings: 6th member reader, fluff, haerin is down bad
“so,get up I don’t wanna fight your shadow.” yn’s soft voice fills haerin’s ears.
she keeps her gaze on her member, watching her sing and dance so gracefully to their choreography, you’re so pretty and talented, is the only thing that goes through her mind as she watches you, the way you dance the way you sing is amazing to her, which reminds her that she’s supposed-
“haerin!” minji’s voice snaps haerin out of her haze, she looks at minji alramed with doe eyes, “why did you stop dancing?”
she’s now very aware of her surroundings. all her members looking at her in concern, standing in very awkward positions, which was caused by the dance.
“are you okay?” danielle is the next member to voice her concerns.
“are you sick?” that was hanni.
“I was just about to ask that.” is the voice that fully had her attention, you “are you sick?”
yeah, lovesick
haerin shakes her head profusely, “sorry guys, I guess I just zoned out.” she says making sure to put some base in her voice to show that she’s okay, but it didn’t seem convincing.
“maybe you should go home.” minji starts,haerin opens her mouth to protest but minji cuts her off, “we’ve been practicing all day, I think you’re tired.”
“I’ll go call someone to pick her up.” hyein says, walking out the practice room.
“I’m really fine guys.” haerin says again, trying as hard as she can to convince the five girls in the room, this is what she gets for being so distracted by your beauty and it definitely won’t be the last time.
“It’s okay to be tired.” is it bad that your voice puts her in a haze?
you walk closer to her, putting your hand on her shoulder, “we’ve been working really hard on this comeback, it’s expected.” you say reassuringly.
is it bad that she feels really weak by your touch?
maybe I should go home.
all she does is look at you, which makes you even more concerned, you furrow your eye brows at her, “are you okay?”
before she can answer hyein walks back in the room, “manager unnie has car out for you.”
haerin is already walking out the room, haering minji’s faint “w’ll see you later.”
.♡.
when haerin gets back to the dorms, she spends the rest of her day in her bed, watching shows on her laptop, only stopping to answer her members “check up” texts.
she’s been so into the show that she’s watching that she lost track of time, she looks her window and sees the blue sky dimming, she looks at her clock, 6:30pm.
where are they?
like on timing, she hears the front door click and multiple voices
she jumps slightly when her door opens, only to reveal you.
“hey..” you trail off smiling at her, god, she doesn’t know how you are the way you are so effortlessly.
you walk over to her bed and sit at the edge, “we brought food, did you take anything or how you’re feeling?”
she just looks at you dazed and you look at her concerned, “haerin?”
“yeah?”
“did you hear me?”
“yeah, sorry, no I didn’t take anything.” she shakes her head.
“well, what kind of sickness are you feeling?” you ask leaning closer to her.
“lovesick.”
“what?” you laugh shaking your head and getting up from her bed. “minji’s right you are weird.”
you bring out your hand towards her for her to take, “come on,let’s get you some food.”
she takes your hand and you pull her with you to the kitchen, where the rest of the girls are.
as everyone greets her and asks her how she feels the only thing on her mind is your hand in hers
she really is lovesick.
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yenonnoff · 8 months ago
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TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 30. 10 things i hate about you
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masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next
fun facts:
the term sakusa is looking for is the proximity principle. i had to whip out my psychology notebook for this one.
atsumu bought the groceries! of course he asked y/n beforehand what she wanted to eat and checked in with osamu for tips/recipes/ingredients. y/n surprised him with the snacks :D
shimizu is always making homecooked meals so y/n doesn't cook often. she just strolls down the hall and into shimizu's condo to have dinner together. that's why she went over to borrow certain cookware ++ her lack of cooking skills.
y/n likes buying cute slippers for her place. she's bought everyone a pair so that they'll be comfortable when they're over. the ugly shrek slippers, the ones that look like the grinch and an alien gave birth to him, were from a white elephant exchange. guess who was the one that bought it (extreme difficulty because it could be all four of them)
cooking - atsumu: 1 y/n: 0
baking - atsumu: 0 y/n: -1
gaming - atsumu: 0 y/n: 1!!!
don't underestimate y/n, she's been trained to be good at all sorts of games. she plays with extremely competitive and sly people (kuroo the shameless cheater, shoyo the "i didn't understand the rules!" kenma the "that was a practice round"), so she has to be extra careful.
shimizu is an angel, she doesn't cheat. however, if y/n asks her to form an alliance, there's a 88% chance she'll say yes.
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TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 。o♡ an atsumu miya smau
synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?
a/n: sorry for the long fun facts i love making up silly scenarios !! this was supposed to be a written chapter but i threw that idea out the window (phew) i was gonna say the two of them were listening to daniel caesar while cooking etc. but his songs are too romantic the tension would've been crazy !!!!
taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it! (those bolded were unable to be tagged)
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