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harrysfolklore · 7 months ago

Note

i can't wait to read your verstappen!yn, i've been loving all of your f1 fics recently

woah this ended up being suuuper long, but i hope you guys like it !

pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!yn

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and 107,288 others

ynverstappen the coolest and your favorite verstappen is back 🏁

view all 4,826 comments

ynfan1 SLAAAAYYY

lilymhe missed you 💗 ♥︎ by author

maxfan1 the most iconic woman on the paddock

ynfan2 the 2024 season needed her back

oscarpiastri YAY 🤘🏻 ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram i know you missed me the most

↳ ynfan1 i love the fact that they’re besties

maxfan2 exactly bestie, keep max humble

redbullracing ❤️

maxverstappen1 Good to know my little sister is really supportive

↳ yourinstagram anytime dw

↳ maxfan2 I LOOOOVE THEM

charles_leclerc I agree, someone is the cooler Verstappen and that’s not Max ♥︎ by author

↳ charlesfan1 CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

↳ maxfan3 HEEELP

liked by ynverstappen, redbullracing and 1,711,828 others

maxverstappen1 Lovely race!!!

The car felt great again today! Another 1-2 finish is an amazing team result @redbullracing 🤝 Very well done👏

#SaudiArabianGP #KeepPushing

view all 15,936 comments

maxfan1 YEEEES

schecoperez 🙌🏻

maxfan2 is max’s world we’re just living in it

ynfan1 yn teasing him on this comment section in 3.. 2… 1…

ynverstappen just maxnificent

↳ maxfan1 YEEEEES

↳ ynfan2 that’s a proud sister

ynverstappen and perfect podium btw ♥︎ by charles_leclerc

↳ ynfan1 HUHHHH

↳ charlesfan1 WHY DID CHARLES LIKE THIS

↳ charlesfan2 charles literally what are you doing here

liked by ynverstappen, carlossainz55 and 1,523,667 others

charles_leclerc First podium of 2024 + fastest lap 😘 See you in Australiaaa !

view all 14,128 comments

charlesfan1 CRYING FIRST PODIUM FINALLY

scuderiaferrari 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

charlesfan2 FORZA CHARLES

leclerc_pascale ❤️

ynverstappen congratulations! 🏆🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ ynfan1 what is she doing here 😭

↳ maxfan1 YN????

↳ charlesfan1 these two have been commenting on each other’s posts a lot something is definitely uppp

f1gossip 👀👀👀

charlesfan3 P1 coming

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 115,206 others

ynverstappen my date is also a really good photographer

view all 5,938 comments

ynfan1 BESTIEEEEEE

maxfan1 max was found fuming

francisca.cgomes prettiest girl 🤤 ♥︎ by author

maxfan2 the fact that max didn’t even like this post 😭😭 petty bitchhh

ynfan2 i want to know the tea

oscarpiastri Text me ASAP

↳ maxfan1 i would die to know how their conversations look like

charlesfan1 is she in monaco? 👀👀 (i’m delusional ik)

↳ charlesfan2 i get your vision

f1gossip Stay tuned for my next post 🤔

liked by charlesfan1, ynfan1 and 45,826 others

f1gossip 🚨 EXCLUSIVE 🚨Charles Leclerc and YN Verstappen (influencer and Max Verstappen’s younger sister) out in Monaco tonight

view all 1,022 comments

charlesfan1 OMFGGGGGGG

ynfan1 YALL

maxfan1 no way this is real…

charlesfan2 what on earth 😭

ynfan2 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

maxfan2 IS THIS WHY MAX DIDNT EVEN COMMENT ON HER POST ABOUT THE DATE HELP

charlesfan3 idk how to feel

liked by ynfan1, charlesfan1 and 19,725 others

f1gossip YN Verstappen has arrived to the Paddock for the Australia GP 🇦🇺

view all 3,026 comments

ynfan1 ICON

maxfan1 the superior verstappen

ynfan2 she always slays

charlesfan1 IS SHE GOING TO BE IN THE FERRARI GARAGE ???

charlesfan2 fr is she going to root for charles or max

maxfan2 max making sure she doesn’t go to the ferrari garage as we speak

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 197,252 others

ynverstappen you saw me at the ferrari garage (no you didn’t) 🤔

view all 6,025 comments

ynfan1 SHES SOOOOOO

maxfan1 😭😭😭

lilymhe 😍

ynfan2 she’s an icon she’s a legend and she’s the moment

charlesfan1 NOT THE SOFT LAUNCH

maxfan2 max lost the podium and his sister is dating someone from ferrari such a bad day to be him

oscarpiastri You weren’t at the McLaren garage, that’s for sure

↳ charlesfan1 HEEELP

↳ ynfan2 everyone talks about max when it comes to this relationship but can someone think about oscar

↳ yourinstagram love ya best friend 😩

maxfan3 MAX REFUSES TO LIKE HER POSTS 😭

charles_leclerc Good luck charm 🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ charlesfan1 STOP DONT DO THIS TO ME

↳ ynfan1 I COULD CRY

↳ yourinstagram 💗💗💗

liked by redbullracing, ynverstappen and 1,278,250 others

maxverstappen1 Gutted 😑 unfortunately this part of racing, onward to Suzuka @redbullracing

view all 15,029 comments

maxfan1 babyyyyy

ynfan1 is this about missing the podium or about yn not leaving charles’ side 😭

heineken Counting the days for Suzuka, Max 😉

charlesfan1 i desperately need someone to ask him how does he feel about max and yn

maxfan2 ik this is about the race but the fact that it also was the time yn and charles decided to go public makes it ten times funnier

ynverstappen love you forever 🥺 ♥︎ by author

↳ ynfan1 aweeeeeee

↳ maxfan1 best siblings ever

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 196,257 others

ynverstappen welcome to japan by the strokes playing

view all 6,022 comments

ynfan1 SLAYYYY

charlesfan1 we love mrs leclerc

maxfan1 forever the superior verstappen

lilyzneimer 💗

charlesfan2 charles already got her into the strokes

maxfan2 look max finally stopped being petty and liked her post

oscarpiastri Just so everyone knows, that shirt was a gift from her best friend that she forgets about now that she has a boyfriend

↳ ynverstappen you’re such a cry baby itsg

↳ oscarfan1 oscar and yn are my favorite duo

charles_leclerc Prettiest girl ever 😍 ♥︎ by author

↳ maxverstappen1 I will never get used to this…

↳ maxfan1 HEEEEEELP

↳ charlesfan2 I CANT BELIEVE MAX DID THIS 😭

↳ yourinstagram grow thicker skin, bro!

↳ charlesfan1 YN 😭

↳ maxfan2 DRAG HIM

ynfan2 this comment section is out of control

liked by charlesfan1, charlesfan2 and 45,926 others

f1gossip “I am happy and very excited about this weekend. Suzuka è one of my favorite circuits of the season, especially the non-city ones. Also, my girlfriend is here which makes everything feel even more special. I can't wait to drive tomorrow” - Charles Leclerc about the Suzuka Grand Prix

view all 2,926 comments

charlesfan1 OMFGGGGGG

charlesfan2 HE SAID THE G WORLD YALLLL

ynfan1 i think i fainted

maxfan1 somebody check on max fr 😭😭

maxfan2 SOMEBODY ASK MAX ABOUT THEMMMM

ynfan2 boyfriend and girlfriend 🥹

liked by maxfan1, charlesfan1 and 20,167 others

max_fanclub Max got asked about his thoughts on his sister YN dating Charles Leclerc and this is what he said!

"My sister and Leclerc? Yeah, they're together. It's still pretty new, just a few months or so. Charles is a good guy, you know, I've known him since we were kids and he treats her well and all that. Although it's funny, isn't it? My sister and a Ferrari driver. But yeah, as long as she's happy, I'm happy for her."

view all 3,826 comments

maxfan1 NO WAY 😭

charlesfan1 IM SCREAMING

maxfan2 thank you to whoever that got him talking

ynfan1 i need to see the three of them hanging out

charlesfan2 i guess lestappen is real after all (charles and yn)

maxfan3 HIS FACE

ynfan2 he’s happy but he also wants to murder charles leclerc

ynfan3 now someone please ask OSCAR how does he feels

liked by charlesfan1, charlesfan2 and 8,265 others

charlesupdates Charles and YN in Japan tonight !

view all 785 comments

charlesfan1 BABIES

ynfan1 her SMILE

maxfan1 who wants to bet max scolded them before leaving 😭

charlesfan2 this is my lestappen

ynfan2 they both look so happy i love them

maxfan2 i bet max keeps repeating “if my sister is happy i’m happy” every night before he goes to sleep

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 203,268 others

ynverstappen life lately… no one was forced to play tennis together and also WE GOT A DOG !!

view all 8,936 comments

ynfan1 OMGGGGG

charlesfan1 THE BOYFRIEND CHARLES CONTENT

maxfan1 LOOK AT LESTAPPEN 😭😭

leclerc_pascale ❤️

ynfan2 absolutely living for this content

charlesfan2 THEY GOT A DOG !!! STFU!!!

maxfan2 max and charles being forced to spend time together outside of the track is my new favorite thing

lilymhe that’s the cutest dog i’ve ever seen 🥹

maxverstappen1 😵‍💫

↳ maxfan3 WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN

charles_leclerc Perfect life 🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ charlesfan1 CHARLES STOP MAKING ME SCREAM

liked by ynverstappen, scuderiaferrari and 3,316,574 others

charles_leclerc Welcome home baby Leo Leclerc-Verstappen 🤍🤍🤍

view all 19,826 comments

charlesfan1 IM CRYINGGGGG

instagram dog dad era ❤️

charlesfan2 LEO LECLERC-VERSTAPPEN IM SOBBING

ynfan1 where can i apply to be leo

maxfan1 AHHHH I NEED A PICTURE OF MAX WITH LEO

arthur_leclerc Cutest leo!

maxsverstappen1 My favorite nephew

↳ maxfan2 IM SCREAMINGGG

↳ ynfan2 dog uncle max

ynverstappen MY BOYS 🥹🥹

↳ ynfan1 she gets in

↳ charlesfan3 let me innn

liked by charlesfan1, charlesfan2 and 8,638 others

charlesupdates Charles, YN and Baby Leo in Monaco today !

view all 504 comments

charlesfan1 OMFGGGGGG

ynfan1 the leclerc-verstappen family SO TRUE

charlesfan2 i love this so bad

maxfan1 don’t let max see this

ynfan2 i want what they have

charlesfan3 ONE HAPPY FAMILY

ynfan3 their relationship is the best thing ever

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 202,755 others

ynverstappen GO FERRARI BOYS !!!!!!! ❤️🏁 #MiamiGP

view all 8,846 comments

ynfan1 AHHHHH

charlesfan1 I LOVE THIS

maxfan1 MAX WAS FOUND FUMING

oscarpiastri 😂😂😂😂😂

carlossainz55 That’s the spirit

ynfan2 im screaming she dgaf about her brother in red bull and best friend in mclaren she said IM HERE FOR MY MAN ONLY

charlesfan2 WE WON

charlesfan3 best wag ever i swear

maxfan2 and on the 12th anniversary of the inchident too 😭

maxverstappen1 When did this happen…

↳ yourinstagram just an inchident i guess

↳ ynfan1 I CANTTTT

↳ maxfan1 I LOVE THEM

charles_leclerc 😍😍😍😍 ♥︎ by author

↳ charlesfan1 he knows he won

liked by ynverstappen, carlossainz55 and 1,090,508 others

charles_leclerc A little bit of blue and 2 trophies to take back home

Miami, thank you 🤍

view all 15,926 comments

charlesfan1 LEGENDDDD

instagram onto the next one 🏆

carlossainz55 👏🏻👏🏻

charlesfan2 PODIUM BABYYYY

ynverstappen THATS MY MAN 🥹🥹❤️

↳ ynfan1 AHHHH

↳ charlesfan2 IMAGINE BEING ABLE TO SAY THAT

↳ charles_lecerc ❤️

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.gomes and 256,936 others

ynverstappen cause the sign of your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly who are we to fight the alchemy?

view all 9,389 comments

ynfan1 OMFGGGGGG

charlesfan1 THIS IS BEAUTIFUL

maxfan1 i’m crying

oscarpiastri This is cute, I’ll give you that

↳ oscarfan1 😭😭😭

charlesfan2 that’s their song 🥺

maxfan2 for the hundredth time this month, somebody check on max

lilymhe the taylor reference 💗

↳ ynfan2 she gets it

maxverstappen1 ❤️

↳ ynfan1 AWEEEEE

↳ maxfan1 THERE WE GOOOO

charles_leclerc I’m a very lucky man 🤍

↳ ynfan2 IM SOBBING

↳ charlesfan2 alexa play that should be me by justin bieber

PART TWO

#charles leclerc au #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fake instagram #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc fanfiction #harrysfolklore #f1 x reader #max verstappen #verstappen!yn #max verstappen x reader #1k

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ravensmadreads · 7 months ago

Text

OK YOU KNOW WHAT

FUCK YOU

T_T

iron and charcoal

rating: explicit 18+ pairing: pero tovar x f!reader word count: 6.9K summary: Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without – Her. He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come. OR Pero falls hard for a princess and doesn’t know what to do with himself on your wedding night. warnings: angst, brief classism/xenophobia two very stubborn people, pero experiences one Human Emotion and cannot fully process it, arranged marriage, yearning, smut LIKE WOW, soft!pero that i broke my own heart with a/n: Thank you so much to @perotovar for this request: "congrats on your milestone, my love! so happy for you <33 i'm sending a little astrology 💫 + pero & #6 on the fluffy list OR #1 on the smutty list (whichever is speaking to you), because i wanna see your take on him 👀” – of course I chose the slutty one, just for you 😉 I’m actually pretty proud of this one - please consider reblogging if you like it too!

*the image in the header is for aesthetic purposes only and does not reflect the appearance of the reader*

🤍Masterlist 🤍Pero Tovar Masterlist

💜come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

Sometimes before battle, the clatter inside Pero’s head goes silent. It listens. It waits.

Other times, it roars. Memories of family, of dead amigos, of mujeres he fucked – they all buck and scratch for a chance to blaze across his mind like a dust storm kicked up by an unbroken mustang.

He doesn’t know which one he prefers or which one will win out. They both have their uses, necessary states of mind to survive whatever is barreling towards him – an ax, a monster out of legend, some other drunken mercenary he intentionally pissed off. It’s an unconscious decision, yet one that has served him well so far. He wouldn’t be alive today if some deep, primal part of him knew what he needed to live through another battle.

And yet, as he climbs those stone steps, his own trunk knocking against his hips as he climbed the sickly ostentatious stone steps to the top of the parapet, the handles starting to pinch his fingers, the barest – nearly invisible – tremor in his knees, he cannot fathom, for the life of him, why that singular phrase from his abuela played in his head like water swirling around and around a cenote.

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

His inner voice, taking on a myriad of forms, of sounds and voices, never quite standing still, the one companion he could always rely on.

Maybe it was warning him. Dust yourself off, boy, you know exactly how this was going to end.

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –

Her.

He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.

He feels sweat escape from the nape of curls at his neck, his cheeks warm and chest hot. Two more flights, he can manage two more flights.

His abuela also liked to tell him something else: if hell doesn’t get him, his pride certainly will.

It’s certainly what got him into this ridiculous farce in the first place. Because he can’t alchemize whatever is in his gut into vocalized syllables, he instead has to climb a truly incalculable amount of stairs, while carrying a ragged, torn trunk that weighs as much as his armor.

Because he can’t form the right words, any words, about what he carries lodged beneath his breastbone for her. What draws him up and up and up and up because it’s lighter than hope, makes him lighter than air, and yet it clogs him up, chokes him out all the same. His pride, his vanity, cuts through it, through her – enough to keep him tongueless and dry but not enough to offer this lightness in his chest to her, for her. He can’t take the light out of him or else he fears what he will truly become.

So, he walks, he goes around and around on unforgiving stone steps until finally there is a door. He thinks about waiting, to catch his breath, but he knows he will just as easily turn around and go back the way he came, trunk still heavy and knocking against his hips, and that pride will be the death of him. So he keeps going, opens the handle, and makes abrupt eye contact with the two guards outside her door. They seem uninterested and unamused in his sweaty, stilted breathing, but by his less-than-royal attire, they easily clock him as one of their own; a man who fights to make his way in the world. The one on the left nods jerkily at him.

What they see him as, what he will always be, is nearly the reason he kicks that fucking trunk all the way back down. Instead, he nods back, shoulders rounded, eyes down.

“The princesa - the princess - is requesting the last of her things, to be b-brought up from the stables –,” he clears his throat, “drop this off for her and –,”

“Can’t let you in. King’s orders.” The one on the right sees him as something else – a foreigner first and foremost, their similar stations in life irrelevant. His bright blue eyes rove over Pero’s dark skin, dark hair, jagged scar, distaste and disgust smearing his already ugly features. But he had been dealing with men like these all his life.

“Bueno, you can explain to the King himself why his daughter’s belongings were lost and disregarded. I hear she’s very fond of the Italian prints at the bottom of this . . .”

The guards glance at each other, calculating way above their paygrade. Pero jostles the trunk as if to show he is not above throwing it out the window.

“Fine.” The second one snaps. “Drop it inside and come back immediately.”

He drops his head, a good little foreign boy. “Gracias, señor.”

The heavy wooden door opens beneath the iron lock and the instant he is through, he bolts it behind him. Waits to see if the guards notice. They don’t. Perfectamente – all the time in the world.

All in the time in the world – for what?

To fail? Again?

He stows the trunk in front of the door, extra time, a few seconds maybe – as if she wouldn’t just tell him to get out the instant she laid eyes on him. Only time will tell.

Out of the atrium, another door, this one set deep into the wall. A last line of defense. He knocks, once, then twice, then waits. El orgullo chokes him again but fuck it, he’s come this far. He knocks again, knocks something in his chest free and, with it, spill the words:

“Princesa? It’s me. I –,” it throttles him, “princesa, can you open the door?”

Silence. His heart sits, buried in that trunk. Then –

“It’s unlocked, Pero.”

His heart in his throat, he opens the door to presumably what will be your marriage bed. And yet, by the state of things, you could have been moving out of it. Trunks and bags stack high against the far wall – those fucking trunks he made such a scene over because the unnecessary weight would slow them all down remain untouched, arranged as they had been when they had been first brought in. He didn’t quite know what to make of that, his thumb absently pressing into the callus of his other hand as he glanced around. It is a beautiful room – tall windows, etched in scarlet drapes, to match the scarlet curtains around the bed. With gold thread and impossibly detailed paintings of the countryside, it is fit for a princess, a some-day queen. This is where someone with royal blood deserved to be, not in the back of a hot carriage for weeks on end, surrounded by dirty, loud, rough men.

And yet, with your hair down, expansive gown from the ball tonight replaced with a simple cotton dress, you could not have been more out of place. Pero’s heart lurches briefly, moisture seeping from his mouth, as he realizes this is the same dress he bought you when the two of you had been accidentally separated by the caravan and your previous dress had been ruined in the mud. He had no idea you still kept it, much less wore it ever again.

But if anyone asked him, you look more beautiful in this than any silk or velvet.

Instead of unpacking, settling into your new home and eventual role as wife, you sit hunched over at the intricately carved mahogany desk, eagle feather quill scratching against parchment. You finish with a flourish and look over your shoulder at him, your eyes annoyingly unreadable.

“Yes?”

A stupid brute some may call him, but he wasn’t entirely without awareness. Observation of your customs and what you considered inappropriate only encouraged him: if you really didn’t want him here, you would never have let him see you in this state.

But it’s hard to remember that under your icy stare.

“Y-your things, Princesa. The last from the caravan.”

Your eyes slide over him, to the trunk in the shadows of the atrium. He can tell from a single glance that you know as well as he that trunk is not yours, that no one told him to come here with it, and yet he did it all the same. Something flashes over your eyes but it’s gone by the time you meet his gaze again.

“Thank you. I am, as always, indebted to you.”

He hates your words, but warmth spreads in his gut at the way you say it. That’s how it’s always been between you and him – saying one thing but meaning another. He’d never appreciated a sharp mind like yours until he realized you wield it as he wields a sharp sword.

There are many things he’d never even dreamed of before he met you.

“Then, this means you’re leaving, I suppose.” You draw your sword against him. The metal flashes in your eyes as you stand, one hand against the curved tip of your chair. A bronze halo rims your outline, the fire behind you burning bright and hot. He knows if he touched your shoulder, your neck, your skin would be wonderfully warm.

He wets his lips. “Si. Our contract with your father is done.”

You drop his gaze, your lips tightening for a minute, your fingers running through the carvings of wood on the chair. “Even with William in his state? Would it not be better for him to stay and recover? The journey home is –,” you pause, as though someone had thrown a hand over your mouth, “– the journey back east is long.”

All the longer without you.

“William, he is not an idle man. Two days of bedrest is often all he can take.”

You grin, in spite of this thing circling you both. “Unless he finds the nun attending to him beautiful.

“He finds them all beautiful.”

Your smile expands wide across your bright face when you find him smiling at you too.

This – if this is to be his last memory of you (his heart wrenches at the thought) – this is the you he wants imprinted on his soul: smiling and glowing by firelight.

But as quickly as it came, that grin that warms him down to his bones, fades. In an instant, your eyes grow soft, your mouth twisted, jaw tight.

“Where will you go?” you ask, in the quietest voice you’d ever addressed him with.

It pains him, physically aches within him, to hear the distress in your voice. He hasn’t even thought about the next contract, the next royal cabrón who intends to yank him all across God’s green earth to perform a task he can’t be fucked to take on himself. How can he possibly answer you? Nowhere, without you. To rot in a dark hole in the ground? Off a cliff? What answer would provide you or him any sort of satisfaction?

“Wherever the coin goes,” he says and the words scrape his tongue like bile. That ache in his chest spiraling rapidly, deep into his gut – like a poisoned limb he cannot amputate – he does the same thing he always does when he’s hurt: he makes others hurt until they leave him alone. “You do not have to worry, princesa, your new husband will keep you in such comfort you will never wonder where the coin comes from.”

He must be a truly sick man, for the knife-sharp glare you throw at him only knots arousal around the base of his spine. It tugs on something attached directly to his groin which, in turn, yanks the next words out of his mouth.

“He looked especially happy with you in his arms on the dance floor tonight.”

The icy shards in your eyes go brittle and crack. His heart races; he’s overplayed his hand.

“You watched me dance?”

“All guardsmen were required to –,”

You shake your head, eyes bright and searing through him. “No. It was only the King’s Knights there in attendance.”

Your hand trailing off the edge of the chair, you take a step forward and he feels his weight shift back onto his heels. But he remains firm.

Sana, sana.

“Pero, why did you come here tonight?”

“To return the last of your things, princesa. What else is there?”

You flinch, as if he had raised his voice to you. What else is there indeed?

“Not even to . . . say goodbye? Sixteen weeks on the road is an awfully long time to be around someone, only for them to . . . leave so soon.”

He locks his knees to keep them from shaking. “Do you wish for me to tell you goodbye, princesa?”

There’s something painfully sad about the way you smile at him. “I wish for whatever would make you happiest.”

Anger roars within him, hungry and hot, like a burn from a white flame. Why can’t you just admit it? Why do you avoid it time and time again? He knows he hasn’t misread anything you’ve sent his way, so why? Why are you so vested in torturing him this way?

“Coin makes me happy and, now that I have it, there’s nothing to keep me here.”

There, that hurts you too, just as he meant it.

“Then leave.” They could make ice fortresses out of the strength of your bone-cold stare. “If you have nothing else to say, then take your goddamn trunk and get out of my sight.”

The flame scorches him, ripping him apart and in his anger, making him cruel.

He bows to you.

“I imagine you will be very happy with your new husband, ranita.”

The term slips from his lips before he can stop it, but his throat and cheeks blister so badly, he physically can’t open his mouth to correct his mistake. Instead, he turns and strides towards the door.

He thinks he hears a gasp from behind him, a sharp sound like breaking glass – small, tinkling, tragic. It spears him through his chest, pierces his heart.

He gets to the door and pauses.

If you have nothing else to say . . .

Of course he has something to say – words in English and Spanish and broken dialects gathered like poisonous lichen all churning in the boiling cauldron of his mind, but nothing will suffice – nothing reflects or compares to the grief he is already feeling, the despair, the anguish that has settled into all the fleshy joints in his body. Not his pride, but this, saying goodbye to you, this is what actually will kill him.

Every word imaginable crawls up his throat and rages in his mouth, presses up against his teeth, begging for something, anything to be let out, to be free, to tell you that he cannot fucking live without you–

Nothing comes through, but one single word.

“Don’t.”

The fire crackles in the silence, a wicked god pleased at the display of carnage.

“What did you say?”

A dull thud echoes from where he drops his forehead against the wood of the door, all anger flooding out of his system. Do you have any idea the power you hold over him? One request, one tremor in your voice and his knees all but buckle at your altar.

Fuck it.

He always thought he’d go out in a blaze of bloody glory, but he’d never expected to be so exposed, so flayed like this.

“Don’t,” he repeats, his throat as dry as sand. “Do not . . . marry him. Please.”

The vision of your great warrior slumped against the door frame, his neck bent, shoulders curled up to his ears has your already pounding heart leaping forward into a gallop. He is defeated, laid low. You watch his guts all but pool out on your hearth.

He looks about as hopeless and anguished as you feel.

Your soldier, your man of iron and charcoal, goes blurry in your eyes.

“And what would you have me do, Pero?” Your plea is damp, malleable at the edges. You press your hand flat against your chest, near your throat, as if you could pull the grief lodged there with your fingers. “I have been engaged to this man before I was even born. How can I stop this?”

“Fight.” The word snarls against his bare teeth. He turns, his eyes liquid ink, and suddenly he has you by the shoulders. His thumbs nervously skitter around the curve of your shoulder, gaze just as unsteady and unfocused as it wavers between your hands, your earlobe, your neck. "Where is my brave girl who fights for what she wants, hm? Fight – for me, please.”

Fight, he asks – but in spite of him or because of him?

You lay your hands on the silver shine of his breastplate, watch as they rise and fall with his steady flow of breath. How many nights had you woken up against that shine, in the crook of his arm for warmth, or protection? You didn’t cherish it at the time because you never knew when it would be your last.

“Why won’t you fight, princesa?” His voice is low, strained, the groan of a wagon wheel before it breaks. You meet his gaze and the exposed look on his face, softening every line on his mouth and around his eyes, nearly sends you into hysterics. You swallow the tears, swallow the hook in your throat as your fingers curl around the clasps of his cape.

"Because if I don't fight then I can't lose.” His fingers slip from your shoulders, to your elbows, to your waist. You inhale and the scents of warm leather, oil, and ash flood your mouth. The tip of your nose is inches from the scruff of beard against his cheek, the ruddy brown of his sun-drenched skin. He has curled you into him and this, you do not fight either. His massive palms map your back, against your skin, but without any urgency or control. “If I can’t lose, that means I don’t lose you. You'll just be . . . gone."

That last word is a lie. It hangs in the air like a sweltering humid rain and you both know you’re lying. He has you wrapped up in his arms, you didn’t stop him even for a second, and you are all too aware that it would take some great, insidious alchemy to ever truly tear him out of you.

You stare at his silver collar, defiant against the waves you had managed to shackle down until this very moment: a wave of hopeless crashes into you, a wave of heartbreak, a wave of helpless that fills your eyes to the point of spilling with that very same salt water.

He touches your cheek delicately, fingers rough with callouses, and the floodgates break open with a sob.

“Preciosa,” he rumbles softly against your hairline, “hush. You break my heart with your tears.”

“Do not mock me, Tovar. Not now.” you sniff, trying to turn your face but his wide hands catch you around the cheeks.

“You are beyond mocking. I’d show you my heavy heart but I do not wish that weight on anyone.” The snag of his rough thumbs against your cheek draws your watery gaze to him. His mouth is a flat line, barred against whatever climbs his throat, but his eyes move like mercury across your nose, your eyelashes, the arch of your cheek. Your fingers wrap themselves around his wrists, a grounding agent against the waves that threaten to pull you under.

“Pero, I –,”

“I have fought you, tooth and nail, for days without end. Every favor, every breath, you have forced them from me. I fight my own mind when I sleep at night. Sueños, always of the same woman.” He smears away the tears with his thumbs, gently, sweetly, before pressing his lips to your wet flesh by his knuckle. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, mouth hovering stationary above the skin of your cheek. “You fight me every step of the way . . . and I am so tired of fighting.”

For all your struggling, for all your tearing and clawing and snarling against the blooming in your chest, nothing is as easy as it is to turn your head and press your lips to his.

The brush of his bristled mustache against your upper lip. His warm, rough palms holding you steady. His lips soft and hot. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him.

There is nothing like, and nothing will ever be like, finally kissing Pero Tovar.

All it takes is the movement of his hands from your cheeks to your lower back, the light trace of his tongue against your lips, and the yearning you’d been smothering for weeks now roars to life. His hands squeeze your hips and you can suddenly barely breathe.

“Pero–,” the noise in the shape of his name that escapes you is near a whine, begging. He nips at your lips, hand firmly at the cup of your jaw, mouth now rough and insistent, and your fingers claw up his neck, wrapping themselves in his dark curls. You tug, nails scratching his scalp, and he groans into your mouth as if you’d just kneed him in the gut.

A thread-bare gasp of your name from his lips splits you from him, then his hand on your hip and the back of your neck pushing you backwards gives you enough air to breathe – to think.

"Your husband will know you're not a virgin,” Pero warns, breathing hard and fast, his eyes like black flints, “if we go on."

You curl your fingers around his neck, dragging your mouth near his jaw, the soft skin at the edge of his ear.

"Then he will also know my heart is not his either.” You ask everything of him with this. His armor blocks his warm body from you – you want to sink inside his hard shell. “If you’ll have it.”

He is not himself, half-human with an inhuman want, with the snarl that leaves him.

“Don’t make such promises, dulzura –,” A threat, a dog forced to expose its underbelly, fear radiating like the pain from a broken bone. Your fingers dig into the buckles of your cape, steadying you against a sudden terrible awareness that bloomed, purple-bruised.

“Unless you don’t want –,”

The desk rattles when your hips break against it, the force of his kiss enough to topple over your inkwell, spill rolls of parchment to the floor. The wood groans under your weight when he gathers the thick swell of your thighs in his hands, heaves you onto the flat surface, and spreads your knees around his waist. He is as hard as the iron on his chest.

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

A frantic sigh of relief, a groan shared between two pairs of lips, seeking skin and warmth and other hungry places.

He drags you onto his chest, your skirt bunched up around your hips, the rings of his armor digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, his mouth covering yours in wet pulls, and he stands up right, as though you weighed less than his sword.

A stumble, and he spreads you out on the velvet covers of your marriage bed, his hands imprinting on your hips, your knees, the supple meat of your calves. The touch of him on your bare skin feels like the licks of flames, the smoke of arousal blurring your awareness and dragging your eyelids half-closed. On his heels at the edge of the bed, the flint shards of his eyes drift over the bones of your ankles, the bend of your knee, your heaving chest, hair in snarls around your neck and caught behind your back, and finally to your cunt, hidden by the folds of your dress.

Velvet hums as you slide your ankles to the curve of your ass, widening your legs, parting your knees. His lips part open, dark want etching every line of his face. You feel the wet linen of your dress cling to your achy cunt. He swallows, unbuckling his cape one latch at a time, his eyes nowhere else. The metal clatters as it falls to the floor.

Piece by piece, the chinks in his armor fall away. Piece by piece, he is revealed to you. Your hands rise up, up your thighs to your knees, your thumbs rubbing soft circles. He watches, never tears his gaze away from your sticky hole, his nimble fingers working away the buckles and knots with practiced precision. You can see it in his eyes – memories of bedrolls by firelight, of such a deep painful, yearning ache, separated only by thin tarp, they are a physical weight beside you in this marriage bed.

You see them because they’re there for you too. You see them because you've been here a dozen times, on your back, legs spread wide, your hands circling but never dipping, waiting. Wanting. For him.

His bare chest is warm, the wings of his ribs expanding around short, half-drawn breaths, as he crawls up into your pliant mouth. The kisses are slow, like before, with a crackle of heat just beyond them, his hips slipping into the cradle of your thighs, the wet warmth of you separated by the thin linen of your dress. He sucks the tendon below your ear, a whine slipping out of your mouth, fingers spreading over the harsh planes of his back, and his cock bobs against your thigh.

Pero is bare and warm and entirely yours. All man beneath the sweltering armor.

“Amorcita,” he drips into your ear, kisses smeared against your collarbone, your mouth, your earlobe, “amorcita, amorcita . . . ranita, let me take you.”

He starts to use teeth, a harder nip behind his kisses, when he dips down to your chest. A wide palm with stocky fingers grasps at your breast and it’s a startling sensation for you both.

“Soft,” he moans before licking up under the supple curve of your breast, mouthing at what his tongue missed. He slips your erect nipple into his mouth and twists it between his teeth. “Sweet,” he murmurs with your nipple firmly between his lips.

This is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You deliriously thank the gods that he hadn’t touched you like this on the road; you would have kept him, your own wild animal, in bed without rest for days on end.

Pero plucks just as aggressively at your other breast, the spit-wet nipple that preoccupied his mouth verging on purple and aching. He cups you from the outside this time, squeezing and massaging, ringing your nipple with his tongue until your back bows and you let out a whine that has his eyes flickering up to you, the scent of wounded prey filling his nostrils.

That whine of pleasure elongates into a whimper: “please.”

“Tranquila, ranita.” His touch is softer around your bruised tits, but he keeps one hand bagging the weight of your breast while the other slips beneath your skirt.

The pads of his fingers brush your creamy cunt and with a yelp, you grab him by the wrist, your eyes open with a familiar emotion he draws out of you: rage.

“Pero Tovar, if you value your life you will take me under the covers and put your —,”

He chuckles, his cheek against yours, nose rimming the velvet hairs on the ridges of your ear. The vibrations liquify the tension in your bones, loosening your grip. Your eyes flutter, slick obviously running down his fingers. “Ranita, I don’t think you know how you want to end that sentence..”

His words roll like honey over the heat of your skin. It makes your skin tremble. Your grip tightens on his wrist and you roll your hips, your swollen clit finally relieved by the pressure of his palm.

“Oh, oh, Pero—,”

With a grunt, he shuffled closer, elbow by your shoulder and he cups your entire wet cunt in his hand, pushing the heel of his palm flatter against you. You cry out, a sparkling kind of pleasure radiating out from where his hand rests. You buck your hips faster, complete release flickering through your outstretched hand.

“Can you come like this?” You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you barrel towards escape, and you feel him shudder next to you. You are intimately aware that he’s rubbing his cock on the crease of your hip bone but that only drags you faster towards the light. “Then come, ranita, come and I’ll fuck you.”

The wet, curling heat growing between your legs descends, then in a bright snap, explodes across your body.

“Fuck!” You tear open your eyes to find them damp, Pero’s massive hand cupping your cheek towards him, his stallion eyes dark as his fingers drag on the soaked material of your dress, your hips slowing.

“Amorcita, breathe.” The words are torn from his chest, all cock-suredness gone from his frantic gaze. You gulp in air, the weight of his body over yours grounding and smothering you all at once. He pulls his hand away from you, rides it up your thigh to your waist, looking for something to hold onto. He strokes his thumb once against your overheated skin and you’re wriggling up out of your dress.

“Help,” you hiss and his fingers nearly tear the fabric off you.

With a few undone buttons, you shiver out of your dress, the slick-drenched spots catching on your warm skin. He flings it behind him, near the fireplace.

He takes you barely beneath the thick covers before you welcome him back to the heat of your open legs.

But instead of reeling back and plunging his aching cock into you, he takes the time to kiss you. To praise you in all the ways he fears his mouth will end up short. He kisses you, grateful, reverent – wonderful to be swallowed by but also a distraction.

When he lifts your knees by his waist, your hips automatically tilt towards him and for the first time, you feel his red, sore cock between your tacky lips. The dual sensation nearly drags you over the rack of delectably delicious pleasure, as does his worn, broken groan in your ear.

“More, please, don’t stop.” You cry against the bristles of his beard, his hand dropping between your sweat-slick bodies, finding yours already there to guide him. The press of him spreads you open, filling you one sinking notch at a time. The sensation of your pink, dripping walls moving to take more of him in has you arching up into his chest, nails dragging into his back. His dry lips stifle the moans escaping from your mouth.

Pero takes both of your hands in his, dragging them above your head, his fingers locking your palms together as his hips roll forward. “Cálmate, amorcita, cálmate,” he murmurs between distracted presses of his mouth against your chin, your cheek, his breathing heavy and stunted. You writhe, pinned open by his hips and his hands, his cock filling you all too slowly and not fast enough.

With the last few inches, you take him completely, your cunt throbbing, heart pounding, intoxicated by the sensation of being so maddeningly full. Pero drapes over you, his head tucked into your neck, forearms straining with the tension of gripping your hands tightly.

“Santa madre . . .” He is not a warrior right now. He is but a man, cunt-drunk and heaving.

His name is pushed out of the bottom of your lungs with the first swing of his hips. You cling to him, knees at his ribs, nails pricking his spine, unwilling to let even an inch of space between your bodies. But this becomes increasingly difficult as his thrusts gain speed. His flushed lips stain a sticky line against your jaw, down to your throat, and he releases your hands, the oak of the bed creaking beneath the force of him drilling down into you, he props himself up on his palms, his shoulders bent and curled over you, biceps straining, hairline damp, eyelids fluttering. The scar on his cheek is flushed pink.

“Look, amorcita, look how well you take me.”

His words tear you from your nebulous high, the grit of them forcing your head down to the obscene squelch beneath the sheets. The thatch of rough curls over his groin is drenched in slick, his thick cocked soaked to the point of shine as it drives into you again and again. The heavy draft of breath the sight draws from him, the tap of his cock against a place so deep you didn’t know your body possessed, draws the spooling bliss as tight as a wire.

Your trembling thighs squeeze him tighter, that hot pressure rendering you speechless, except for the most pathetic whine. Please, Pero, please, you think, you mutter, you whisper, your body rocking damp against the sheets.

With a sudden snarl, he takes the chunk of your hair at the base of your head flat in his fists and tugs. A shoot of bright pain sparks bliss down to your tight and bruised nipples, and you cry out again.

“Stop fighting, puedo sentir cuanto la quieres. Let me have it.” It is the following word that splits you open like lighting carving apart a tree. “Please.”

The wail that you release is the rush of gooseflesh over your skin alchemized into audible sound. Heat radiates through you, sucking the air from your lungs, your vision going blurry, then black as you clamp your eyes shut against the rush, the final release, that curls you into his arms. His warm, flushed arms, shaking with strain. A final wobbly thrust or two and his elbows are buckling, sweat-drenched chest pressing into your own.

Distantly, you are aware of the warm, slick drip down your thighs, his cock pulsing the last drops into your cum-flecked cunt, and the dangers this sort of intimacy poses. You can’t gather enough breath, enough sense to settle the spinning room, to worry or even care.

Your his, and he is yours. That is all that will ever matter.

The crackle of wood burning is the only other sound than your ragged breaths, the silent roll of sweat from sticky hot skins into the bedsheets. The stone walls of the castle’s room entomb you together for a brief stretch of infinity.

Pero moves and you think he’s going to back out of you, but instead, he merely adjusts, his head fully on your chest, thick fingers clutching your bruised waist, the shift of his cock pushing more of his release out of your oversensitive cunt. But you’ll take overstimulation over his absence every time. You run your fingers through his damp curls and he hums.

“I’m sorry,” he huffs into your humid skin. “I’m sorry I let my pride keep us apart for so long.”

You grin lazily to the ceiling, your breath settling as affection takes its place in your chest.

“You were not the only one blinded by vanity.”

“But I’m not blind. Not anymore.” He lifts his head, eyes as dark as your spilled inkwell. “I am never letting you go.”

You smile at him, fingers soft against the back of his neck. “I don’t plan on wandering away.”

His oil-black gaze drops to your lips and he leans forward to take your mouth against his. Gentle, but with the promise of more.

“Mi ranita,” he purrs to break the kiss.

“You call me that all the time, Pero. What does it mean?”

At that, a nearly shy expression crosses his face. He shakes his head, shifting onto his elbows to lift off you. “I can’t tell you. It will ruin your good mood.”

You gasp, offended, and you grab him by the ear and twist. He chuckles through a grimace. “You will tell me what that means, Pero Tovar, if you value your appendages.”

“Órale, princesa, retract your claws and I will tell you.”

You release your grip and settle against your pillow. Grinning bashfully, he kisses your neck briefly.

“Remember that I love you after I tell you this.”

Your heart nearly stops, the absence of a steady beat nearly drawing tears to your eyes but you hold firm. You breathe deeply against the fluttering in your stomach and pin him with your glare. Of course, this is how he would profess his love to you – when he’s trying to get out of trouble.

“Tell me, Tovar!”

He chuckles again and preemptively picks up your hands. He kisses the inside of your palms, settling himself between your thighs.

“It means little frog.” Your mouth falls open in a gasp and you struggle to yank your hands back from him, hissing like a tea kettle, but he uses his weight to press down on you. He nips at your nose. “I call you that because when you’re upset with me, much like you are now, you puff up like a bullfrog, your cheeks like this–,”

He rounds his cheeks full of air, crossing his eyes, and you simply cannot take the slight anymore. You push roughly against his gut, the breath trapped in his mouth escaping in a hot puff, and you twist him onto his back. He lets you, of course, his bold, full laughter rendering him defenseless. His body shakes beneath you, his beautiful eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open wide as he laughs and laughs and laughs. You take him by the wrists and push his limp hands over his head, pinning him as he had you. You pinch his chin with your teeth, your messy cunt over his stomach, as his laughter subsides.

“Have you had your fun yet?”

“Barely,” he chuckles, turning his big nose against your cheek and inhaling. He hums.

“Is that all I am to you? A joke?”

Pero opens his eyes, sober as death rattle. He takes you in, not in a hungry, all-consuming way, but in a look that speaks of awe and rapture.

“You are everything to me.”

You sigh, releasing his hands and curling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, your eyes on the roaring fire. His thumbs rub your shoulder blades, trace the lines of your spine.

“You’re so very I love you too.”

His wandering against the expanse of your back stills, just for a moment, before his fingers slide into your hair, around the nape of your neck, holding you to him with the intention of keeping you there forever.

“I know, ranita, I know.”

He watches you sleep as the sky lightens beyond the tall windows on the opposite side of the bedroom. The dying fire traces your edges in gold, settling heat in the curve of your lips.

His heart lurches with the wanting of you.

There’s more terrible things to come, he knows that. The plan the two of you concocted in the early morning hours will be dangerous, deadly even. But dying together instead of living apart would be much more tolerable, you told him earlier that night, your hand on his chest.

He would kill if you asked. He would kill, even if you didn’t, to keep you safe and by his side. You’ve proven yourself capable of living a life away from this spectacular opulence, but it pains him to know he will never be able to give you anything nearly as lovely as the velvet dresses in the closet, the gold jewelry in your trunks.

Instead, all he has to offer is himself. His strength, his hands, his heart. It’s his own fear that tells him that’s not enough, because you remind him again and again that’s more than you ever wanted.

He traces the curve of your cheek with the hovering pad of his finger, brushing your hair away from your face. How he ended up so lucky with your love, he’ll never know, but he will spend the rest of his days proving that he’s earned it.

You stir in your sleep, sensing him above you, and he hates to steal even a few minutes of blissful sleep from you, knowing the endless nights that are coming. When he steals you away from all that you’ve ever known.

The sleepy grumble in your throat resembles his name as he curls around you, but your eyes remain gently closed. He pulls you against him, the air that leaves your mouth and sits between your chest and his something he covets with his whole heart.

I love you and I’m disgustingly lucky and I love you.

He is a man made of dust, serving men made of silver. He is a man of dust, loving a woman made of gold.

El orgullo? No, Abuela, his ranita will get him first, last, and every time.

Translations:

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. - This rhyme is typically said to children when they have just hurt themselves. The parent (or grandparent) usually rubs the part that is sore and sings this little tune. Literally translates to: "heal, heal, little frog’s tail. If you don’t heal today, you will heal tomorrow."

el orgullo - pride

dulzura - sweetness, romantic connotation

amorcita - little love, romantic connotation

Tranquila - quiet, as in "be quiet" or "relax"

Cálmate - take it easy, or take it slow

puedo sentir cuanto la quieres - I can feel how much you want it/love it

Órale - okay, or an exclamation expressing approval or encouragement.

ranita - little frog, but you knew that already ;)

the rest are cognates (or familiar words) which you can probably guess the meaning of, but feel free to message me if you don't know!

#pero tovar x reader #before we start i just wanna really really really give a very sincere shout out for that header #i didnt expect it.. i thought it was gonna be the generic white person (not a dig just saying)#and i definitely teared up when it was someone who looked like me.. like i can't even explain what this means #so im just gonna gently hug you and walk away like a normal person #AND NOW WE BEGIN #I HAD TO THROW AWAY MY PHONE 3 TIMES TAYLOR THREE FUCKING TIMES #STOP WRITING ART OKAY IT MAKES ME ALL GOOEY AND EMOTIONAL #HOW DARE YOU #ok but the way you wrote peros POV SHUT UPPPPPP!!! that little part about being the outsider the foreigner the one who doesnt fit in #STOP LOOKING INSIDE MY BRAIN MAAM #and then the whole dynamic between pero and his ranita like??? CHEFS KISS #when he asks her to fight while hes using his beautiful words (the role switch the painful vulnerability of doing what they're not good at)#I CANT #the fact that shes scared to fight because she knows she might lose pero (and he own sense of self???)#contradictory to pero being afraid to speak his feelings because all the words in any language couldnt explain how he feels like FUCK OFF #shut up im weak for them #ive had them for 2 minutes but I'll set the world on fire for them #and the SMUT??? your smut always hits harder because the way you effortlessly make it a way of communication n love n a show of commitment??#WHAT IS THIS SORCERY TAYLOR #you lure me in with victorian arrange marriage and star crossed lover vibes AND THEN YOU HIT ME WITH SOFT VULNERABLE FLUFF #JAIL!!! JAIL FOR MOTHER FOR A THOUSAND YEARS #please never stop #every single time you drop a fic you rewrite my brain chemistry #how is this possible #i love u so much im so blessed to see u shine every single day #ok enough mush gonna tackle you to the ground and aggressively make out with you now #*launches at you*#P.S the day you launch A/B/O Joel is the day i vault myself into the sun k thanks bye

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f14fun · 5 months ago

Text

big mouth, big brain (!youtuber x op81) ~ part 2

synopsis: in which case y/n, a video essayist pops up on oscar's youtube feed, and he falls in love with the way she speaks and tells stories

smau + prose (5.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | prev | next ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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a little over a week later, on march 24...

yourusername:

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 211,009 others

yourusername: thx babe 🧡

view comments

oscarpiastri: np honey 🧡

user1: aight what is this sudden new development 😀

user1: i mean i'm NOT complaining but YOU SIR better take care of our pookie dookie wookie y/n 🧐🫵🏽

oscarpiastri: got it, got it 😁😁🫣

user2: girl you got him blushing and shiii-

user3: omg i saw her today at the melborne gp and she was so nice to me! like i'm not familiar with who she is really (i'm new to the wonderful world of mawmaw y/n!), but i just know she will be the perfect wag <3

user3: like she saw me struggling with my lanyard, wine, and duffle bag, and offered to literally hold all three, i love her so much

user3: and her outfits are literally so cute, oscar, you chose the right one!

liked by oscarpiastri

user4: omg SHE'S REPPING THE ORANGE HEART #teampapaya

user5: y/nscar, my mawmaw and pawpaw 😘😽💋

user6: like i know they are not official official, but these soft launches gotta stoppp, just hard launch already

user7: girl is he good in bed

user7: please please please give deets, ily!

user8: fam you mad weird for that one

user9: please for the love of god respect their privacy

liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

oscarpiastri: ready for date night 2 night?

yourusername: always ready for u 💗

user10: the BLATANT FLIRTING NAHHH

user11: imagine if this is all one big fat skit i'm actually going to scream cry throwup kms

landonorris: so nice to meet you today, love a girl who finally makes oscar stfu

yourusername: LMAOO 😭😭 it was a please lando

oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄

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I was in fact, not alright.

It had been little over a year since I had been on an actual date (not counting the instances where I went over to a guy's house for some ramen, and all of a sudden that was the date) Used to all these low effort, casual efforts at being romantic, I was suddenly hit with the prospect of an actual man who wanted to treat me with respect.

Oscar Piastri.

The man who I idolized as I grew up, always admiring his grit and courage from afar.

And this hardworking man wanted to take me out on a date. For real.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to calm the flurry of nerves that churned within me. I smoothed my champagne white colored dress and straightened my Cult Gaia necklace. Oscar had only asked of one thing of me tonight, which was to either wear white or beige.

My heart pounded relentlessly, a drumbeat of anticipation and anxiety. It wasn't just any date; it was a date with Oscar Piastri. The very thought sent my mind spiraling. How did I, of all people, end up here? (answer: being chronically online did)

Every interaction with Oscar had been a mixture of awe and admiration. I remembered the first time I saw him race, the way he navigated the track with unparalleled skill and determination. He wasn't just a driver; he was a force of nature, a symbol of relentless ambition and hard work. And now, here I was, about to go on a date with him.

Even though he got fourth at his home race today, I was extremely proud of him. Both as a fan, and quite possibly, his girlfriend by the end of the night (the delusional girl in me said the last part, clearly).

When he had dm'd me privately after tweeting publicly he would like to take me out, I remember completely blanking. I nearly blacked out when he insisted on calling to go over the nitty gritty details of everything with me.

From flying me out, to booking my hotel and making sure my stay in Melbourne was as comfortable as possible, I was feeling a swirl of new emotions. Sure, life was going fast, but I liked this pace. Especially if Oscar could be beside me whilst life passed us by.

Balancing my studies at the prestigious university I attended and my growing presence as a vlogger had never been easy. My days were a blur of lectures, assignments, and shooting content for YouTube and various brand sponsorships. I had started with simple vlogs, but over time, my content had evolved into elaborate video essays on various topics, from Formula 1 analysis to a break down on the world's current events, both in pop culture and politics.

My followers had grown steadily, and so had the demands on my time.

Yet, despite the chaos, I had always found solace in my passion for vlogging. It was my creative outlet, a way to connect with people who shared my interests. My video essays, in particular, had garnered a lot of attention. They were meticulously researched, edited with care, and infused with my personal touch. The positive feedback I received made all the sleepless nights worth it.

But tonight, I wasn't thinking about the next video essay or the pile of coursework waiting for me. Tonight, I was focused on one thing: Oscar.

I had documented my journey to Melbourne in a vlog, capturing every moment from the airport, to the breathtaking view from my hotel room, to the race in Melbourne as well.

My followers were eagerly anticipating the next installment, but for now, they would have to wait. This was my time, a rare moment to step out from behind the camera and live in the present.

As I made my way to the lobby to meet Oscar, my phone buzzed with notifications. Messages of encouragement from friends and comments from my followers flooded in, but I silenced them. Tonight was about more than just content; it was about experiencing something real.

Exhaling as the elevator door slowly opened, the incessant ringing of jazz music seemed to warp and slow as I made eye contact with Oscar from across the lobby. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with his cufflinks.

Earlier in the day, we couldn't see each other, as media duties for the both of us consumed our time. So here we were, for the first time, meeting each other in person.

He was much taller in person than I had actually expected.

It was one thing to see him plastered across a big screen and splattered across billboards in New York City, but it was another to see this man in all his glory, in the flesh.

His shoulders seemed to broaden as I approach him, and a million thoughts were swirling in my mind. I just hoped the same million thoughts were swirling in his mind as well.

His fluffy brown hair looked newly tousled with, but not to the point where it looked terribly unruly. He looked human, with that crooked smile, and his eyes folded into little half moons—like parenthesis—he was happy to see me. As I was too.

All eloquence, sense of being, and peace of mind disappeared in an instant. Mouth slightly gapping widely, I was at a loss of words for once in my life.

Oscar Piastri is beautiful.

We simultaneously reached out for a hug, our laughter breaking the awkward silence that had settled upon us as we sized each other up for the first time. The hug was amazing, enveloping me in a warmth that felt almost surreal.

His arms wrapped around me with a gentle firmness, and I felt a sense of comfort and safety that I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was as if I had come home, even though we were standing in the middle of a bustling hotel lobby.

The hug lasted a little longer than usual, neither of us wanting to let go. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my own, and the scent of his cologne, fresh and slightly woody, filled my senses.

When I finally, reluctantly let go, his hand lingered on my waist for a moment longer, sending a shiver down my spine. The touch was intimate and unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of the connection we both felt.

As his hand finally released its gentle hold, I felt butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. My cheeks warmed, a blush creeping up as I tried to steady my breathing. I glanced up at him and saw that he was blushing a little bit too, his cheeks tinged with a soft pink.

His bashful smile mirrored my own feelings, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, we both knew this was the start of something special.

Oscar cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "I, uh, got something for you," he said, his voice tinged with nerves.

He flipped the bag he was holding around, and I could see the words Valentino sprawled across it. I gasped, my eyes widening in surprise.

"Oscar, you didn't," I whispered, my heart racing even faster.

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure which one you wanted, so I got both," he admitted, looking sheepish yet proud. "One in red and one in blue."

I was completely floored. "Oscar, this is… wow," I stammered, at a loss for words. I had never expected such a grand gesture, especially not on our first date. It was one thing to admire him from afar, but to have him go to such lengths for me was overwhelming.

He shifted slightly, his nervousness palpable. "I just wanted to do something special for you," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine. "You deserve it."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "This means so much to me."

He smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made my heart swell. "I'm glad you like it," he said, stepping closer. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."

I looked down at the beautifully crafted bags, my fingers tracing the elegant lettering of Valentino. Each bag represented more than just a luxury item; it was a symbol of his consideration and effort. It was clear that he had put thought into this, wanting to make a good impression and show that he cared.

"I can't believe you did all this," I murmured, still in awe. "It's… beyond anything I could have imagined."

He took a deep breath, his confidence growing slightly as he saw my reaction. "You deserve to be treated well," he said, his voice firm. "And I wanted to make sure you knew that."

The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable, and I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you," I repeated, my heart swelling with affection. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he replied, his hand gently brushing against mine. "Just enjoy the evening."

As we stood there, the world around us seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just the two of us, sharing something special and unforgettable. And for the first time in a long while, I felt truly cherished.

"I feel like I'm dreaming," I confessed, a soft laugh escaping my lips. "This is all so surreal."

Oscar's eyes softened as he took my hand in his. "It's real, Y/N. And it's just the beginning."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my cheeks flush. The thought that this was just the start of something more was both thrilling and terrifying. But as I looked into his eyes, I felt a sense of reassurance.

"Let's make tonight memorable," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of my hand.

I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Absolutely."

With a gentle squeeze of my hand, he led me out of the hotel lobby. The evening air was cool and refreshing, and as we walked towards his black McLaren that was waiting for us, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Oscar had gone above and beyond to make this night special, and I was determined to cherish every moment.

As we approached the car, Oscar immediately took the initiative to ensure everything was perfect for me. He opened the passenger door and motioned for me to sit down, but not before adjusting the seat settings. He carefully moved the seat forward and tilted it slightly to match my height, ensuring I would be comfortable during the ride.

"Is the seat okay?" he asked, looking at me with genuine concern.

I nodded, already feeling the comfort of the perfectly adjusted seat. But he wasn't done yet. He leaned in and adjusted the air conditioning, making sure it wasn't too chilly. "I know it can get a bit cold sometimes," he said with a small smile, "so I set it to a warmer temperature."

I smiled back, appreciating his thoughtfulness. Once he was satisfied that I was comfortable, he turned his attention to my belongings. Gently taking the old bag I had brought with me, he began transferring my items into the new red Valentino bag he had gifted me. He was meticulous, making sure that nothing was left behind and that everything was placed neatly in the new bag.

"Here, let me help you with this," he said softly, his hands moving deftly as he organized my things.

Watching him, I felt a warmth spread through me. He wasn't just being thoughtful; he was showing me that he cared about every little detail, making sure that I felt special and valued.

Once he had finished, he handed me the new bag, his eyes shining with pride. "There you go," he said, his voice gentle. "Everything's all set."

I took the bag from him, my fingers brushing against his for a moment. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "You didn't have to do all this."

He shrugged modestly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "I wanted to," he replied simply. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

And as he closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver's side, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his kindness and attention to detail. Oscar Piastri was proving to be more than just a racing legend; he was a gentleman, someone who cared deeply and went out of his way to make me feel cherished.

Oscar didn't act like an immature, twenty-three year old boy, like some people made him out to be. Unlike the bummy guys I had known and casually dated before, this was a step up.

He maneuvered the car with ease, backing up with one hand on the steering wheel while his other arm rested casually on the back of my seat. I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles shifted and tensed underneath his white collared shirt, the fabric stretching slightly over his broad shoulders. It was impossible not to find it incredibly attractive. My cheeks heated up, a blush spreading across my face. Oscar noticed and turned to look at me, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Are you blushing?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, no...I mean, maybe a little." I laughed nervously, trying to brush it off, but the warmth in my cheeks only intensified.

He chuckled, a soft, bashful sound, and I noticed a faint blush creeping up his own neck. "I guess we're both a bit flustered tonight," he admitted, glancing back at the road. The air between us felt charged with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

As we settled into the drive, the initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by a comfortable silence. I watched the city lights blur past us, the rhythm of the car soothing my nerves. Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, Oscar took a deep breath and broke the silence. "You know, there's a lot of pressure in Formula 1," he said, his voice thoughtful. "It's not just about the races. There's so much that goes on behind the scenes—training, media obligations, sponsorships. It can be overwhelming sometimes. But having someone like you here tonight, it makes it all feel worth it."

I smiled, touched by his openness. "I can only imagine how tough it must be," I replied. "Balancing my studies and vlogging is already a handful. There are days when it feels like I'm barely keeping up with everything. But tonight...I'm really grateful to be here with you."

He glanced over at me, his eyes soft and understanding. "Sounds like we both have a lot on our plates," he said. "But maybe tonight, we can just focus on ourselves and leave all those distractions behind."

"Agreed," I said, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Tonight is just about us."

We exchanged smiles, a silent agreement to make the most of this evening and cherish the time we had together. The city lights blurred past us as we drove on, the world outside fading into the background as we found solace in each other's company. The pressures of our respective worlds felt miles away, replaced by a shared sense of tranquility and excitement for what the night had in store.

The McLaren navigated smoothly through the city streets, and with each passing moment, I found myself more captivated by Oscar's presence. His occasional sideways glances and the genuine interest he showed in our conversation made me feel seen and appreciated in a way I hadn't experienced before. It was refreshing to connect with someone on such a deep level, especially amidst our busy lives.

"I've always admired your dedication to racing," I said, breaking the silence that had settled comfortably between us. "It must take an incredible amount of discipline."

Oscar smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you," he replied sincerely. "It's my passion, but it's also a demanding profession. Every race, every decision matters. It's a constant balancing act, trying to perform at your best while managing everything else."

"I can relate," I admitted with a small laugh. "Trying to balance university assignments, vlogging, and now, this unexpected but wonderful evening—it's a lot to juggle."

He nodded thoughtfully. "You're doing an amazing job," he reassured me. "Not many people can handle all of that with such grace."

The compliment warmed my heart, and I felt a surge of gratitude towards him. "Thank you, Oscar. And for what it's worth, I think you handle the pressures of Formula 1 admirably."

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The city lights cast a soft glow on his features, accentuating the earnestness in his expression. "I appreciate that," he said softly. "Having you here tonight, it's a reminder of why I do what I do."

A comfortable silence settled between us once more, filled with unspoken understanding and a growing connection. The air inside the car was charged with an undeniable chemistry, a magnetic pull that drew us closer with each passing minute. It was a rare and precious moment, where time seemed to slow down, allowing us to savor each other's company without the weight of responsibilities and expectations.

Oscar glanced at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face, "if you keep blushing like that, I'm going to think you're a better driver than me."

I laughed, my cheeks still warm. "Oh please, you know I'm terrible with directions. I'd probably get us lost before we even reach the restaurant."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, don't worry, I'll be your GPS for the night. Just don't expect me to be as reliable as my car on the track."

At a stoplight, he turned to look at me, and to my surprise, he brushed a loose strand of my hair away from my face to the back of my head. Holding my chin, he smiled, and a small smirk blossomed across his face.

Imagine my shock horror when I started blushing again. It felt like that one Grey's Anatomy episode where a girl wouldn't stop blushing, and got surgery to treat her incessant blushing.

Yes, I really felt like Kelly Roesch every time I was around Oscar.

"Y/N, do I really make you blush that much?" Oscar smirked and looked forward, as the light had changed back to green. Pressing the gas pedal, he sped off, and I let out a gasp from how fast the car was going.

Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, maybe I am blushing, what about it?" I dared to challenge playfully, immediately regretting my boldness and the sudden surge of moxie.

Oscar turned to look at me, his smile widening. "You're adorable when you blush," he remarked, his tone warm and affectionate.

Embarrassment tinged with delight colored my cheeks even more. "Well, you have that effect on me," I confessed, feeling a rush of courage.

He chuckled softly. "Good to know," he teased gently, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before returning to the road.

The playful banter eased the tension between us, infusing the car with a light, flirtatious energy. As we continued driving through the city streets, our conversation flowed effortlessly, alternating between laughter and more serious topics.

Oscar shared anecdotes from his racing career, injecting humor into tales of close calls and victories, while I recounted memorable vlogging experiences and the challenges of managing a demanding schedule.

Each exchange deepened our connection, fostering a sense of mutual understanding and admiration. There was an unspoken chemistry between us, a magnetic pull that grew stronger with every shared laugh and meaningful glance. I

t was as if we had known each other for much longer than just this evening, our bond forged in the shared pursuit of passion and ambition.

By the time we arrived at the restaurant, the initial nervousness had transformed into a comfortable familiarity. Oscar held the car door open for me with a gallant smile, his gestures both chivalrous and endearing.

As we walked into the restaurant together, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that brought us here.

When we arrived at the front entrance of the restaurant, I was once again struck by the thoughtfulness of his choices. The place was elegant yet intimate, with a cozy ambiance that made me feel instantly at ease.

Oscar had clearly put a lot of thought into every detail, and it was impossible not to be touched by his efforts.

As we sat down, I couldn't help but smile at him. "You really went all out, didn't you?" I teased gently.

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Only the best for you."

I blushed, feeling the warmth of his words wash over me. "Thank you, Oscar. For everything."

"You're worth it," he said simply, his gaze unwavering.

In that moment, I knew that this was more than just a date. It was the beginning of something beautiful, something that had the potential to grow into a deep and meaningful connection.

And as the night unfolded, filled with laughter, conversation, and a shared sense of excitement, I realized that I was ready to embrace it wholeheartedly.

As we settled into our seats at the cozy restaurant, the atmosphere around us seemed to hum with a quiet energy. Oscar and I exchanged glances, a knowing smile playing on both our lips, as if silently acknowledging the unspoken tension between us.

"So, Y/N," Oscar began, his voice low and playful, "tell me more about your vlogging. Any juicy behind-the-scenes stories?"

I chuckled, stirring my drink slightly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Endless editing sessions, occasional tech disasters. But it's all worth it when I get to share something meaningful with my followers."

"Sounds like a lot of work," he mused, his gaze lingering on mine. "But I bet you enjoy every minute of it."

"Most of the time," I admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at his attentiveness.

As I settled into recounting the tea ceremony mishap, I couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, though at the time, it had been far from funny. "So, there I was, kneeling beside this beautifully arranged tea set," I began, gesturing animatedly with my hands. "The camera was perfectly positioned to capture this serene moment. I was about to take a sip of the freshly brewed tea when suddenly, the tripod leg gave way."

Oscar leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me with rapt attention. "No way," he interjected, clearly intrigued.

"Yes way," I confirmed with a laugh. "And in that split second, everything descended into chaos. The camera toppled over, knocking into the low table where the tea set was displayed. Cups shattered, tea leaves scattered everywhere, and I, in a desperate attempt to catch the camera, managed to knock over a delicate vase of flowers."

Oscar's laughter filled the air, a genuine and infectious sound that made me smile even wider. "You must have been in shock," he remarked, shaking his head in amusement.

"I was," I admitted, recalling the moment vividly. "But somehow, amidst the chaos, I kept rolling. I think I was in such disbelief that I just kept filming, capturing the aftermath of the disaster. Tea leaves floating in the air, water dripping from the overturned vase—it was a scene straight out of a comedy."

"And your viewers got to witness it all?" Oscar asked, still chuckling.

"Oh, they did," I confirmed, a grin spreading across my face. "And surprisingly, they loved it. I received so many comments about how refreshing it was to see the behind-the-scenes reality, even if it meant watching me fumble through a tea ceremony."

Oscar nodded thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leaned back in his chair. "It just goes to show," he mused, "sometimes the unplanned moments make the best stories."

"Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned forward, ready to share tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Well, there was this one time in Australia," he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "During one of my rookie years, I had a near-miss with a kangaroo. It came out of nowhere, right in the middle of the track. I had to swerve so hard I thought I'd end up in the barriers."

I gasped, eyes wide. "A kangaroo? Seriously? Only you would have an experience like that!"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Yep, only in Australia, right? But that wasn't the end of it. The kangaroo didn't just stay on the track. It jumped over the barriers and ended up in the audience. People were screaming and trying to get out of its way. It was pure chaos."

"Oh my God," I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"No, thankfully," Oscar replied, his eyes twinkling. "Security managed to corral the kangaroo and get it to safety. But it was definitely one of the most chaotic moments I've ever experienced on the track. The race had to be stopped for a few minutes until everything was under control.

The whole time, I was just sitting in my car, watching this kangaroo cause mayhem and thinking, 'Is this really happening?'"

I couldn't stop laughing at the mental image. "I can't believe it. That's insane. Did they ever find out how the kangaroo got there in the first place?"

Oscar shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. "No idea. It was one of those freak occurrences. But it definitely made for an unforgettable race. Every time I go back to that track, I half expect to see another kangaroo waiting to jump out."

I giggled, feeling a warm connection building between us. "Well, I hope not. One near-miss with a kangaroo is more than enough for a lifetime."

He nodded in agreement, his smile broadening. "Yeah, definitely. But hey, it makes for a great story to tell on a first date, right?"

I blushed at his words, realizing just how special this evening was becoming. "Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of other dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward, ready to share more tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Oh, I have plenty," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "There was this one time when..."

As he launched into another story, I couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly we were connecting, each story weaving us closer together in this unexpected evening of laughter and shared experiences. The initial awkwardness had completely dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and camaraderie that felt both exciting and natural.

"You have some pretty wild stories," I said, still marveling at the idea of a kangaroo on the track. "I can't imagine how you keep your cool in situations like that."

He shrugged, a modest smile playing on his lips. "You get used to it, I guess. Racing teaches you to expect the unexpected. But it's not always as dramatic as dodging wildlife. Sometimes it's the little things that make a big difference, like dealing with sudden changes in weather or handling a tricky pit stop."

I leaned in, fascinated. "Tell me more about the pit stops. They always seem so intense on TV."

Oscar's eyes lit up as he delved into the intricacies of pit stops, explaining how every second counts and how the coordination between the driver and the crew is crucial. "It's a lot of pressure," he admitted, "but when it goes smoothly, it's one of the most satisfying parts of the race."

I nodded, absorbing every word. "It sounds like such a team effort. I never realized how much went into it."

"Exactly," he said, clearly pleased by my interest. "It's one of the things I love most about racing—the teamwork and the camaraderie. Everyone has to be at their best for the team to succeed."

We continued to share stories, the conversation flowing easily. I told him about my vlogging adventures, from the hilarious mishaps to the rewarding moments when a video resonated with my audience. Oscar listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and laughing at my anecdotes.

As the night grew later, the atmosphere around us became more intimate. We moved closer, our shoulders almost touching. The moonlight glimmered off the water, casting a soft glow on Oscar’s face.

"That sounds amazing," he said, his voice low and warm, his Australian accent adding a melodic lilt that sent shivers down my spine. Every word he spoke seemed to resonate deep within me, his low vibrato giving me butterflies.

I smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Thanks. It's not always easy, but it's definitely worth it."

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was light, almost tentative. "I can tell," he said softly, his accent making each syllable feel like a caress. "Your eyes light up when you talk about it."

My heart skipped a beat as his hand lingered on my cheek. He leaned in, and before I could fully process what was happening, his lips brushed against my cheek in a soft, lingering kiss.

"You’re really something, you know that?" he murmured, his lips close to my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine, his accent making the words even more intoxicating.

I felt my cheeks flush, a smile spreading across my face. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The way his accent rolled off his tongue was doing things to me I hadn't anticipated.

Oscar’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know," he said, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, "I've been wanting to kiss you all evening." His accent made the confession sound even more alluring.

"Is that so?" I asked, my voice playful yet breathless. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering wildly.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Absolutely. You’ve been driving me crazy with that smile of yours," he said, his accent making the words feel even more intimate and personal.

I laughed softly, feeling a mixture of flattery and nervous excitement. "Well, I guess I'm guilty as charged."

He leaned in closer, his lips now brushing against my ear. "Maybe we should make a habit of this. I like seeing you happy," he whispered, his accent sending delicious shivers down my spine.

My heart raced as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "You’re pretty good at making that happen," I admitted, feeling a surge of boldness. The way his voice, with its rich accent, played over my senses made me feel something stirring inside.

Oscar’s grin widened, and he reached for my hand. "Follow me," he said, his voice filled with playful promise. His touch was electric, sending a thrill through me as I placed my hand in his.

"Where are we headed to next?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. I was clearly blushing and super happy, unable to hide my excitement.

Oscar’s smile widened. "A yacht," he said simply, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

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yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes and 220,018 others

yourusername: finally, date night!

view comments

user1: i'm going to totally pretend that your now "chill" caption truly encapsulates how you are feeling (you were freaking out on priv earlier)

oscarpiastri: priv??! let me follow the account @/yourusername

yourusername: priv... what are you talking about i don't have a priv

oscarpiastri: 🧐🫵🏻

francisca.cgomes: what a beautiful girl 💋💋

yourusername: you're talking! babe you ae so beautiful as well 💋

oscarpiastri: are you flirting with my girl @/francisca.gcomes???

user2: MY GIRL SJIJSJORJDSS

user3: that's so alpha male of you oscar

yourusername: so what if she is 🙄

oscarpiastri: i've had her for less than a day let gooo 😥

francisca.cgomes: idc 🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: children please stop fighting

pierregasly: @/francisca.cgomes ... babe what about me

user4: LMAO KIKA NOT ANSWERING BAHAHA

user5: mawmaw yi pawpaw

liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

user6: guys i just happened to be at the same resturaunt as them tonight bc of a family dinner and let me tell YOUUU, they were so flirty with each other omg. like i sat at the table adjacent to their left so i got a birds eye view of all of the blushing. like he kept intentionaly touching her hand and stuff it was so cute 😵‍💫🫠🥰

user7: landonorizz you got some competition @/landonorris

user8: yeah lando, i fear oscar may have more rizz than you

landonorris: 🙄👊🏼

user9: call him, oscarizz...?

user10: 💀💀 nahh that didn't hit LMAO

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 628,100 others

oscarpiastri: i took her to my penthouse and i freaked it

view comments:

yourusername: NO OSCAR THE CAPTION 😥😥😥

yourusername: HE DOESN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

yourusername: OSCAR AND I DIDN'T FUCK

oscarpiastri: exactly, a gentleman never does such thing on a first date

yourusername: WHY IS THAT YOUR CAPTION NOOOO

oscarpiastri: people are not misunderstanding 🫷🏻🫸🏻

yourusername: OSCAR THEY ARE MISUNDERSTANDING IN THE COMMENTS

yourusername: I DID NOT DO SUCH DEED

user1: i love how y/n is literally freaking tf out and oscar is chill

user2: LMAO i can just see the cartoon silly steam leaking from her ears everytime oscar does anything

user3: god i don't even know if i want to be her or oscar

user4: i choose both.

user5: THEY FUCKED??? 😡😡🤬🤯🤯🤯😰😰😰😰🫨🫨🫨🤐

user6: oscar MY MAN the caption feels a little... sus

user7: had to clean my glasses to reread the caption

user7: because y/n's beauty was genuinely blinding me

user8: aight oscar who wrote that caption 😵😵

user9: ignoring the weird??! caption, they look SOOO CUTE UGH

yourusername: TYSMMMM <3 (pls ignore the weirdass caption yes, yes pls do that)

user10: LMAO

charles_leclerc: ...

oscarpiastri: father, please look away

yourusername: oh!- so NOW your embarassed

charles_leclerc: sending a screenshot of the caption to your mother brb

oscarpiastri: i hope you are reffering to alex

charles_leclerc: no, i definitely mean nicole

oscarpiastri: DELETE DELETE DELETE

logansargeant: bro your cooked

charles_leclerc: "OSCAR JACK PIASTRI" - what your mom said, she said it, not me

charles_leclerc: "HAVE SOME MORE DECORUM YOUNG MAN" - nicole

charles_leclerc: "TREAT A LADY WITH RESPECT"

oscarpiastri: ma'am yes ma'am 🫡🫡🫡

yourusername: god i love your mom @/oscarpiastri

yourusername: ty for doing me a service 🙏🏼🙌🏼 @/charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: no problem, a future leclerc-piastri deserves the best 🫡

charles_leclerc: (you better wife her up)

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oscarpiastri posted on his story

caption: i finally got my dream girl her dream bags 🫶🏻❤️🧡💙

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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 (part THREE yay or nay?!)

796 notes · View notes

formulafics · 1 year ago

Text

★ SO CLOSE, YET SO FAR | OP81

Scenario: your best friend is arthur leclerc, and his best friend is oscar piastri. you’d think that’s grounds for being close with oscar, but here you are, age 22, and you aren’t even sure you could call him a friend. what you do know, though, is that you have a ridiculous crush on him, one that you’re struggling to hide. (requested)

Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

A/N: i’m just as shocked as you probably are about this. all the pieces fell into place with this one and i somehow managed to get it done 🤭 god bless pinterest. this turned out to be a lot sillier than i intended, but i personally love it and hope you enjoy!

gentlemen, a short view back to the past:

ynln

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, robertschwartzman and 78,923 others

ynln got my boy back for summer break (also got his brother? not complaining)

view all 1,456 comments

charles_leclerc sorry to intrude

⤷ ynln stfu you know arthur and i like hanging out with you

arthur_leclerc i miss you :(

⤷ ynln STOP I MISS YOU i can’t wait to see you again

⤷ piastrizz my favorite friendship 😭 i love yn and arthur sm

charizzleclerc charles and arthur are so cute

ynln

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 112,567 others

ynln lately <3

view all 2,367 comments

piastrizz YN AND OSCAR SOFT LAUNCH?

oscarpiastri same time next week?

⤷ rizzciardo IN HER COMMENT SECTION OSCAR?

⤷ papayabull i bet encouraged this madness

leclerclover the way arthur is always in her posts makes my heart happy. i aspire to have their friendship

papayabull i just know the twitter girlies are going insane

⤷ redbullrrari CAN CONFIRM IM LOSING MY MIND

⤷ ferrariformula YOU AND ME BOTH

ynln

liked by oscarpiastri, arthur_leclerc, carla.brocker, charles_leclerc, and 123,765 others

ynln remember (for next year) if you start talking to him in september you can be dating him by christmas!

view all 1,894 comments

carla.brocker cutest couple fr 🫶🏻

piastrizz THE ANNOUNCMENT IS HERE GUYS

leclerclover BABE WAKE UP YN POSTED THE LAUNCH

arthur_leclerc about time

⤷ ynln shut up that’s not the point rn

⤷ rizzciardo speak your truth arthur

oscarpiastri when did you take the second picture and how did i not know?

⤷ ynln don’t worry abt it 😁

🏷️ general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @minkyungseokie @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @harrysdimple05

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moviecritc · 5 months ago

Text

strawberry shortcake ⋆ carlos sainz smau

pairing: carlos sainz x reader (fc: various from pinterest)

summary: everyone is surprised about the woman that carlos is dating, knowing how classy he is

warnings: some hate comments

a/n: i'm blonde and i'm planing to do pink highlights for this summer, so this seemed fun to do <3

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

yourusername just posted!

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,409 others

yourusername 9 to 5 🌶️

view all comments

yourbff stop being so cool you're making others seem lame

user1 is this carlos new gf?

user2 i think she is! they were seen together two weeks ago, he soft launched a dinner and now she's posting watching the race, so they probably are

alexandrasaintmleux ohh gorgeous 😍 liked by author

user3 girl you're like 27 what are you doing dying your hair pink

user4 nah some people are allergic to having personality

carlossainz55 🥰🌶️

user5 pls tell me that he's just being friendly user6 no bc what is he doing with a girl like that... she looks so messy user7 that's exactly what i was thinking! nothing against her, but she's not the type of woman for carlos

view all comments

user1 i'm sorry, but she's a no for me

user2 she works in fashion????

user3 ultimate cool girl frr

user4 ok i've stalked her and she is GORGEOUSSS, and effortlestly cool?? i would die for being half cool of her

user5 dying my hair pink rn

user6 i can't believe there's people saying that she's not enough for carlos?? girl, carlos is not enough for HER

user7 FRRR she is THAT GIRL, in capital letters and bold

user8 i've dig a little and i found a few things: she was born in ireland (irish queen, i can't imagine how cool is to hear her talk), studied marketing at trinity college and moved to london a few years ago, she was a month in madrid last march (probably when she met carlos)

user9 i mean cool, but please go touch some grass

carlossainz55 just posted!

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 32,654 others

carlossainz55 So excited to race in Australia this weekend 🔜 🇦🇺

view all comments

yourusername 🤞🏻🔜

user1 SHE'S COMING TO A RACE? user2 honestly i would be embarrased to go to a gp with her

user4 carlos you have to update your taste in women bc wtf

user5 imagine calling yourself a carlos fan and hating on his gf who literally did nothing

user6 we're not hating, she's just vulgar, that's factual

user7 i can't believe people is making this post all about his relationship

view all comments

user1 her outfits are in another level

user2 Carlos couldn't stop touching her, he's DOWN BAD

user3 she looks so sweet, i don't understand the hate

user4 she's iconic, you guys are just boring people

yourusername just posted on her story!

[caption 1: gettin ready for the race 💋] [caption 2: thank you for this @scuderiaferrari]

replies

carlossainz55 c'mere i need my good luck kiss

carlossainz55 i mean you ARE the prettiest and i'm the luckiest

user1 ok you actually look nice

user2 first time i see one of the wags being grateful with the team

Carlos interview after quali

f1 just posted!

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 23,0129 others

f1 CARLOS SAINZ WINS IN AUSTRALIA 🤩

view all comments

user1 SMOOOTHHH 🌶🌶

user2 and this man doesn't have a seat?? be ffr

user3 ALL I SEE IS SAINZ, ALL I SEE IS CARLOS SAINZ 💅🏼

user4 and that podium>>>>>

user5 YESSS his gf was there and looked so so happy user6 omg i saw it!!

yourusername VAMOSS ❤️💛

user7 oh hi y/n user8 you speak spanish? user9 i love her. i don't care you guys don't, but she's da best

carlossainz55 just posted!

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 72,102 others

carlossainz55 Unforgettable weekend ❤️💛

tagged; yourusername

view all comments

yourusername Beyond proud of you darling ❤️🥹 liked by author

carlossainz55 Te amo ❤️ user2 AAAAHH I LOVE EM user3 brb im taking a bath with a toaster

user1 so we're hard launching now?

user2 she's his lucky charms, 100% sure

user3 bro casually hard launches in his race win post

user4 carlos and y/n picture was a jumpscare. but like a good jumpscare, and not scary at all im actually in love with them

user5 looking for a third?

yourusername just posted!

liked by carlossainz55, yourbff and 9,427 others

yourusername Left the office to support this handsome fella 💞💞

tagged; carlossainz55

view all comments

carlossainz55 Te amo, hermosa. My lucky charm 🍀👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

yourusername Can't wait to the next one 😊😊 user2 I CAN'T THEY'RE TOO PRECIOUS user3 there's nothing better than private but not secret but also not too private relationships

user1 I thought i was early but carlos' already here

user4 and they've been dating for over a year, if i had to wait so much to post carlos sainz i would've died

user5 ugly as fuck liked by author

user6 not y/n liking it- user7 LMAO I ADORE HER

alexandrasaintmleux Coolest ❤️

yourusername i'm afraid that's you hun ❤️ user8 this is so cute ngl user9 wags that get along with each other >>>

user10 y/n, do you speak spanish?

yourusername Un poco, Carlos me está enseñando 🥰 (a little bit, Carlos is teaching me)

elleuk and carlossainz55 just posted!

liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 12,012 more

elleuk He was the only non-Red Bull Racing race winner in last season in Formula 1, and the first one this year. And althought his place in F1 is still unknown, it is certain that Carlos Sainz has already left a legacy in the sport.

The April issue of ELLE UK is out March 28. Read the interview at the link in our bio.

view all comments

user1 Oh we all know who edited this pictures

user6 and he even changed the pfp to the first one, he's obsessed

carlossainz55 Thinking of pursuing a modeling career after this

yourusername You should. I'll edit your pics 🤝 user3 i'll tell my kids they were adam and eve

user2 the pictures are fabulous

user7 we all say together: thanks y/n

user4 WE'RE BEING FED WITH THIS PICTURES

user5 why is anybody talking about the interview?? he's the CUTEST talking about her

user8 YESS, i read it and i died of sweetness user9 they're so wholesome i love them

440 notes · View notes

thoughtsonkm · 2 months ago

Text

Goodbye, for now

BABY? HONEY? BOYFRIEND SHOT? Jikook you're too much!

This episode was truly the best way to end the show, maybe even the best episode of the series. (Neck in neck with episode 2 of course) The way they enjoyed it so much but were also so sad it was over. The hot tension all around, the soft boyfriends mood who can't stop flirting and name calling each other with the most low-key couple-like sweet names. They could not stop laughing, they could not stop touching and they couldn't stop being hilarious without even trying.

SK Spotify daily chart end of November 2023 :

Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jimin

It would be such a full circle moment if Jimin posted the boyfriend photo (which won't happen). Would almost be like a soft launch of some sort.

Not the underwear too?? Gosh I love my little gay freaks!! (didn't understand why Jimin would quote their 'yet another inner joke meme' right at that moment but I've learned to not question their inner workings)

Sorry but i have to be pretty one last time and say that I kinda had enough of seeing so much from the crew around or even in Jikook's shots and angles. It breaks the fourth wall a little too much and ruins the whole bubble idea. Ok I'm done lol

Returning to the issue at hand, the "seeing the beds for the first time" scene keeps getting funnier and funnier. As if they don't already have designated sides of the bed 😏

Ah the never ending bickering gives me life. Peep the half korean half english talk when they playfully get on each others nerves 👀😂

I better not speak on the scuzzi jacuzzi shenanigans cause otherwise.. Let's just say the photo speaks for itself..

NO YOU KNOW WHAT IMMA SPEAK. We all know that jacuzzi time is always intimate, relaxing and personal for people that's why I wish Jikook had enjoyed it fully without cameras. Yes I'm pissed on their behalf, that they had to film the whole thing with 382929 different angles. lol

His face is literally saying "oh so you're really gonna make me do it huh? if I was in your place I would've folded immediately and would've never let you go through with it!!" 😂

No one ever:

Jikook every 2sec : HONEY OH HONEY

(I was actually listening to the song while writing this and idk why it's so funny to me even tho it's a sad love ballad)

They must've loved getting the chance to at least see one episode of the show, plus the idea of watching it together..

Jungkook being so entertained by it meanwhile Jimin being mortified about half of the things that happened. HILARIOUS

HAHAHHAHAHA all parties were concerned if they'd be able to pull it off, I can't

BEST BELIEVE they're always gonna find a way to touch. Consciously or unconsciously.

This show made me realize that my favourite thing ever is Jk making food for Jimin, then making him hysterically laugh and therefore getting to hear Jimin's adorable giggles.

"Hello it is I the one and only, the only one who can touch Jimin's head ble ble ble ble" - JK

Jk was like: How can you imagine Jimin without me in your dream? Are you crazy? What is this delusional dream world you live in Jin hyung??

Tbh it's so meaningful and a huge thing saying that these trips were literally the best trips of your life. I think the statement almost went over people's heads.

I can't get enough of Jimin looking pretty and cuddly and Jungkook's immediate thought being: I HAVE TO FILM YOU

Them saying they can do a reboot when they come back gave me some hope that maybe just maybe this is not the end of AYS 😭

The ending bonus clip left me fulfilled but also sad and with goosebumps all over.

Thank you Jimin & Jungkook for letting us peek into this trip and getting to witness some of your precious moments.

Signing off, J&J 🥹

Ps. So I'm guessing the 52 minute video that comes with the photobook is probably the 3 bts videos combined that they've been reviewing for 48392 months right?

#I really enjoyed this review series #jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #bts #bangtan #are you sure?!#jikook travel show #ep. 8 #september 2024 #final episode😭

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planetkiimchi · 4 months ago

Text

send my love | l.jh

featuring: music producer!jihoon x musician!reader, secret relationship

word count: 936 words

summary — jihoon accidentally exposes your relationship with a slip of his tongue… in front of an entire school of students.

author’s note: had sm fun writing this and doing the bonus part <3 inspired by the songwriter that came to my school today!

Jihoon stands backstage, listening to the first few seconds of your song, “breaking down walls”, play. When it stops playing, the chorus of voices doesn’t stop, and he’s shocked to hear the students singing the lyrics to the song the two of you co-wrote together, their voices loud and clear in the multi-purpose hall.

He’d thought it would stop, but he swears only the first 3 seconds of the song were played, yet they sing all the way to the chorus before stopping.

Still in a daze, he barely notices when he’s signalled to go onstage, but he pulls himself together and does exactly that. He’s prepared a presentation for the students, to let them know a little bit more about songwriting and how he came to write songs, and a few tips he has for anyone who might be looking to become a songwriter.

He was invited to speak because your song was a top hit, and the lyrics were about breaking down the barriers of mental illnesses with the help of medication, proper treatment, good relationships and healthy coping strategies.

Mental health is something that he’s struggled with for a while. Every time he feels low, and his mental health is waning, he writes a song about it.

He writes about other things, but his favourites are probably the songs that he writes coming out of a slump caused by executive dysfunction, when he manages to get his life back on track again.

The school he’s visiting is holding activities for mental health week, and this presentation he’s giving is among the last few before they wrap up the week.

Of course, Jihoon mentions you in his presentation, because you’re the singer of “breaking down walls”, a song that the two of you wrote over a series of months, rarely exiting the studio except occasionally to get food. He probably calls you stunning a couple of times—he can’t remember, but he’s always found you the better looking between both of you anyway. You’re also more popular, so he apologises that you can’t be there because you’re busy preparing for your concert the day after.

He was nervous getting onstage to speak to such a large audience, and he can’t say he’s ever been gifted at public speaking, but he thinks he does an okay job. The crowd is relatively quiet, and he hopes the soft buzz is just the students excitedly talking about the content of his presentation.

When he’s finished delivering his points, one of the music teachers that he briefly met backstage comes onstage. Two students bring out two chairs for the two of them to sit, and the Q&A segment starts.

Jihoon feels that this is the part he was most nervous for. Before getting onstage, he wondered what he would say when asked about this song. It’s very close to his heart, and while he’s co-written a different song before, with a different friend, about mental health too, it wasn’t really the same. It’s hard to explain, but the you and his other friend have different styles, and he thinks “breaking down walls” holds a special place in his heart. It’s truly an irreplaceable song.

Because of how important “breaking down walls” is to him, Jihoon finds it difficult to articulate his emotions without feeling extremely overwhelmed, and he’s afraid tears may start flowing if he thinks too much about it.

However, his fears are eased when the teacher begins speaking. The teacher asks Jihoon simple questions like what’s his favourite song he’s written, and one of your songs that he finds criminally underrated.

These are easy to answer; he barely hesitates before launching into a full-blown explanation for his two choices, and he’s bolstered by the cheers of agreement from the students.

Jihoon gets really into it when asked about “breaking down walls”, managing to word his feelings without getting too emotional. After all that worrying, he’s impressed with himself when he manages to phrase it as “writing lyrics from the bottom of his heart, with all of his soul”, expressing his gratitude for all the support the two of you have received for this song.

As the teacher brings the Q&A segment to a close, the students burst into a round of applause. Jihoon thinks you might want to see how much admiration they have for you, so, taking out his phone, he says, “I’ll send Y/n my love—I mean, your love.”

He doesn’t blush, but his palms grow sweaty. He subtly wipes them on his lap before hitting the “record” button on his phone.

”Hey, Y/n. I hope you’re having a good time preparing for the concert. There are some people who’d like to say hi to you.” He smiles, thinking about how you’ll look receiving his message in the middle of rehearsals, hoping he can give you a boost in energy.

He turns the camera around to show the students, who—to their credit—cheer so loudly his eardrums feel like they’re going to burst. When he turns it back to himself, Jihoon says, “That’s all I have to say. Enjoy the rehearsals!”

He stops recording, and turns to the students. “I’ll send it to them and let you know. Thank you so much for having me.”

He’s escorted away from the venue with a gift from the school, but all he can think of is the way he slipped up onstage. He still sends the video, but he receives a notification on X first.

Clicking it open, he finds something that makes his face turn pink. He’s glad he slipped up, after all.

—

Bonus (the tweet in question):

329 notes · View notes

cl6teen · 1 year ago

Text

˖ ࣪ . 🦢 ࿐ ♡ ˚ . cariño , cs55

in which her younger brother’s big move to madrid lands her a relationship with a certain ferrari driver <3

social media au ⍟ carlos sainz x fem!bellingham!reader

warnings: none!! goes from partial soft launch to hard launch

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham, carlossainz55, and 318,055 others

y/nbellingham to my best friends and brothers, congratulations ❤️

view all 3,456 comments

judebellingham grateful to have you by our side ❤️

jobebellingham best biggest fan ever

bsfsinstagram madrid time !!

y/nbellingham new city unlocked

bhamfan does this mean we get real madrid vlogs now?

liked by y/nbellingham

judesunknowngf y/n’s support for her brothers is so sweet how could you not like her???

˗ 𖦹｡ two months later ⋆° ˗

carlossainz55 added to their story (2 hours ago), y/nbellingham added to their story (5 mins ago)

˗ 𖦹｡ twitter ⋆° ˗

˗ 𖦹｡ instagram ⋆° ˗

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, judebellingham and 1,219,555 others

carlossainz55 nada es mejor que el hogar 🇪🇸 (nothing is better than home)

view all 6,222 comments

charles_leclerc don’t have too much fun over the break mate!

luv4sainz these photos are too lana coded for my liking

1655ferrari no bc these were def taken by a woman

landonorris the black and white filter makes this look like a memorial, fly high 🕊️

liked by y/nbellingham and charles_leclerc

user liked by jude??? my prayers are being answered, s/o that twitter user for manifesting

liked by bsfsinstagram, carlossainz55, judebellingham and 89,234 others

y/nbellingham enamorada de la vida (in love with life)

tagged bsfsinstagram

view all 1,378 comments

bsfsinstagram the madrid glow is different and it’s beautiful on you

liked by carlossainz55

unliked by carlossainz55

judebellingham you’re not great at football

liked by carlossainz55

y/nbellingham we were playing in the sand shut up!

user the bellinghams definitely met carlos at the madrid game and i am not mad about it at all

user photo dump for the soul ofc but where is the madrid vlogggg 😩

y/nbellingham it’s coming very soon my love!

˗ 𖦹｡ twitter ⋆° ˗

˗ 𖦹｡ twitter pt. 2 ⋆° ˗

˗ 𖦹｡ instagram ⋆° ˗

liked by carlossainz55, judebellingham and 102,122 others

y/nbellingham i’ve been getting my spanish in (ft. jude fit pic)

📌 valencia, spain

view all 1,024 comments

bsfsinstagram i’m missing my photo creds for two of these pictures missy.

judebellingham ❤️‍🔥

carlossainz55 you need to work on pronounciation but it’s getting there

y/nbellingham you just speak too fast i’m doing well

user who is that in the last photo ???

y/nbellingham nobody 🤭

user is that carlos??!!!

y/nbellingham haha carlos is my spanish teacher

liked by carlossainz55

˗ 𖦹｡ twitter ⋆° ˗

˗ 𖦹｡ two months later, silverstone ⋆° ˗

y/nbellingham added to their story (25 mins ago)

liked by y/nbellingham, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 1,555,678 others

carlossainz55 thank you silverstone

view all 7,335 comments

judebellingham a thrilling watch man ❤️‍🔥

1655ferrari IM SO PROUDDD!!!

charles_leclerc your good luck charm worked mate 😉

liked by y/nbellingham

user i literally cried watching him win im so happy

saintsainz no way i manifested jude on the paddock and then carlos winning 😭😭

y/nbellingham p1 suits you 🥰

carlossainz55 you suit me

luv4sainz WAIT HUH???

liked by carlossainz55, bsfsinstagram, charles_leclerc and 545,763 others

y/nbellingham i never actually said he was just my spanish teacher…

comments for this post have been turned off

liked by charles_leclerc, bsfsinstagram, landonorris and 680,765 others

carlossainz55 mi cariño ❤️

comments on this post have been limited

y/nbellingham mi hombre favorito 💕

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #cs55 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #social media au #fake instagram

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chrisevansonly · 1 year ago

Text

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

᪥ social media fic

᪥ why soft launch your relationship when you can just dive right in, which is no surprise to some of the paddock anyway

᪥ my first f1 post & ofc it had to be charles<3

y/n’sinsta

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbsfsinsta, scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 3M others

hard launches are in right?🤭

tagged charles_leclerc

see 1,000 comments

username OH WOW

username NO HES OFF THE MARKET

landonorris okay now everyone say ‘thank you lando’

>charles_leclerc no

>y/n’sinsta thank you lantern😙

>landonorris 😒

username this was not on my 2023 bingo card

charles_leclerc je t’aime tellement chérie ❤️

>y/n’sinsta je t’aime tellement aussi mon amour

charles_leclerc best thing that’s ever happened to me

liked by y/n’sinsta

scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

liked by charles_leclerc and y/n’sinsta

charles_leclerc

liked by y/n’sinsta, arthurleclerc, lewishamilton, ferrari and 6M others

mon plus grand trésor ❤️

tagged y/n’sinsta

see 4,000 comments

username CAPTION😭

username oh they’ve been together a HOT minute huh

username i can feel my heart breaking as we speak

lewishamilton happy for you both🤍

liked by charles_leclerc and y/n’sinsta

arthurleclerc can you hear me crying from the bathroom?

>y/n’sinsta THAT SOUND WAS YOU?!

>arthurleclerc no…

>charles_leclerc 💀💀

y/n’sinsta tu as mon cœur pour toujours mon bébé ❤️❤️

>charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️

y/n’sinsta also i miss you come back to bed

liked by charles_leclerc

>landonorris THERE ARE CHILDREN ON HERE

>y/n’sinsta lando it’s past your bedtime, go to sleep 🤨

>landonorris 😐😐😐😐😐

username pain, sorrows, pain

y/n’sinsta added to their story!

a/n: my first f1 post, i hope you enjoyed, requests are open though i’ll probably try and fill some more drivers while i’m waiting for requests🤍

1K notes · View notes

chiyuuchu · 4 months ago

Note

I love ur posts! Can u do more bakugou content?

weight of the world upon her voice <3 (7th August 2024)

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Prompt! A mute girl with the loudest voice

a/n my second ask! i’m so glad

Bakugou sat in his usual seat, arms crossed and eyes closed, trying to tune out the usual morning chatter of Class 1-A. The door slid open, and Aizawa-sensei walked in, followed by a girl he hadn’t seen before. She was petite with expressive eyes and an aura of quiet determination.

“This is Y/N,” Aizawa announced. “She’s new to our class. I expect you all to help her adjust.”

Y/N gave a small bow, her hands moving quickly in a series of gestures. The class looked on in confusion until Bakugou, surprisingly, stood up.

“She says, ‘Thank you for having me,’” he translated, his voice gruff but clear.

The class murmured in surprise, not expecting Bakugou to know sign language. He glared at them. “What? You think I’m an idiot or something?”

Throughout the day, Y/N struggled to communicate with her classmates. Kirishima and Mina tried their best, but the gestures were foreign to them. Bakugou, however, stepped in frequently, translating her signs with impatient ease.

“She’s asking if you can pass the salt,” Bakugou snapped at Sero during lunch.

“Wow, Bakugou. Didn’t know you could sign,” Kaminari said, impressed.

“Yeah, well, now you know. Pay attention, idiots.”

Y/N smiled gratefully at Bakugou, who simply shrugged it off with a grumble.

When Aizawa announced battle training for the day, everyone was curious about Y/N’s quirk. She’d been so quiet, they wondered what kind of power she possessed. Paired up against Kaminari, she stepped into the training arena with a calm expression.

The match began, and Kaminari launched his electric attacks. Y/N dodged gracefully, her movements precise. Then, she stopped, her eyes locking onto Kaminari’s. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Kaminari froze, his eyes wide in shock. He dropped to his knees, clutching his head. “What’s going on?” he muttered.

“She’s... speaking in his mind?” Midoriya realized aloud.

Y/N’s quirk allowed her to project her voice directly into her opponent’s mind, issuing commands that they couldn’t resist. Kaminari, under her influence, stood still, unable to fight back.

“Her quirk’s incredible,” Todoroki said, watching intently.

Bakugou smirked, crossing his arms. “Told you idiots she was tough.”

After the match, Y/N approached Bakugou. She signed a quick thank you, but this time, she added something more.

“You’re welcome,” Bakugou replied, then translated for the rest of the class, “She says she’s grateful for my help and that she’s glad to have met all of you.”

Y/N looked at Bakugou with appreciation. They had a unique understanding, a connection that didn’t require words. For Bakugou, it was more than just knowing sign language; it was about recognizing strength and resilience in someone who communicated differently.

As the weeks passed, Y/N integrated more into the class, with Bakugou often acting as her unofficial interpreter. Despite his usual rough demeanor, he showed a softer side when it came to helping her. The class began to respect him more, seeing a new dimension to his character through his interactions with Y/N.

In Y/N, Bakugou found a kindred spirit. She was quiet but powerful, and her presence challenged him in ways he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t long before their classmates realized that this unlikely friendship was built on mutual respect and understanding, making their bond unbreakable.

During a lunch break, the class gathered around a table, curiosity written on their faces. Kaminari was the center of attention, animatedly describing Y/N’s voice to those who hadn't experienced her quirk firsthand.

“So, what’s her voice like?” Mina asked, leaning in closer.

Kaminari smiled, recalling the battle training. “It’s really soft-spoken and gentle. It feels like someone whispering directly into your mind. It’s kind of surreal.”

Uraraka's eyes widened. “That sounds amazing! I wish I could hear it.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’m curious too. We should ask her to use her quirk again.”

Later that morning, as Y/N entered the classroom, she was met with a sea of eager faces. Bakugou, noticing the unusual excitement, raised an eyebrow.

Kirishima approached her with a gentle smile. “Hey, Y/N. We were all wondering if you could... use your quirk so we could hear your voice?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the request. She looked around at her classmates, who all nodded encouragingly.

“Please?” Mina added, her hands clasped together in a pleading gesture.

With a shy smile, Y/N nodded. She focused her energy, her quirk activating as she prepared to speak. The room fell silent, everyone leaning in with anticipation.

"Hello, everyone," her voice echoed softly in their minds, gentle and calming. "It's nice to be here with all of you."

A collective gasp of awe filled the room. Uraraka's eyes sparkled with delight. “Wow, that’s incredible!”

Tsuyu nodded. “It’s like she’s speaking directly to our hearts.”

Bakugou, who had already experienced her voice during spar one time , watched the reactions of his classmates with a tiny smile. He was proud of how far Y/N had come in earning their acceptance and admiration.

From that day on, the class felt an even stronger bond with Y/N. They appreciated her uniqueness and the effort she put into communicating with them. The more they learned about her, the more they admired her strength and resilience.

And for Bakugou, seeing Y/N become a cherished member of their class only deepened his feelings for her. She wasn’t just a girl with a powerful quirk; she was someone who brought out the best in everyone around her, including him.

As the days turned into weeks, the class gradually began to pick up bits and pieces of sign language. Y/N often found herself smiling at their efforts, touched by their willingness to communicate with her.

During lunch one day, Kirishima approached her with a hesitant smile. "Hey, Y/N," he said slowly, his hands moving awkwardly but clearly. "How... are... you?"

Y/N beamed and signed back quickly. Kirishima's eyes widened, and he turned to Bakugou for help.

“She said, ‘I’m good, thank you. How are you?’” Bakugou translated with a roll of his eyes. “Seriously, shitty hair, try to keep up.”

Mina joined in, her hands forming the sign for “friend.” She looked to Y/N for confirmation, who nodded enthusiastically. “Friend,” Mina repeated, grinning.

During a lesson, Aizawa decided to incorporate sign language into their curriculum. “It’s important for heroes to communicate in all forms,” he explained. “Today, we’ll learn some basic signs.”

The class was eager to learn, and Aizawa taught them common phrases and terms related to their training. Y/N stood at the front, demonstrating each sign with patience.

“Hero,” she signed, her hand forming an ‘H’ and making a motion over her chest. The class mimicked her, some more successfully than others.

“Villain,” she signed next, her expression serious. Again, the class followed her lead.

Midoriya was particularly focused, taking notes and practicing diligently. “This is really useful,” he muttered to himself. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

During the break time in class, Uraraka and Tsuyu approached Y/N with shy smiles. “Can you teach us how to sign ‘good job’?” Uraraka asked.

Y/N nodded, demonstrating the sign. Uraraka and Tsuyu practiced a few times, then turned to each other and signed, “Good job.”

Y/N clapped her hands, proud of their progress. Bakugou watched from a distance, a small smile tugging at his lips. It was gratifying to see his classmates making an effort for Y/N.

In the common room one evening, the entire class gathered for a movie night. As the credits rolled, Y/N and Bakugou found themselves sitting together, the glow of the TV illuminating their faces.

“Hey, Y/N,” Kaminari called out from across the room. He made the sign for “thank you,” albeit a bit clumsily.

Y/N giggled and signed back, “You’re welcome.” Bakugou translated for him, and Kaminari grinned, pleased with himself.

As the night wore on, more and more students tried out their new skills, creating a sense of unity and understanding within the class. They were no longer just learning a new language; they were building bridges and forging stronger bonds with Y/N.

And for Bakugou, seeing Y/N become an integral part of the class was more satisfying than he could have ever imagined.

One evening, the Bakusquad gathered in Y/N’s room for a study session. Textbooks were spread out across the floor, and the air was filled with a mix of chatter and the occasional groan of frustration over complex problems.

As the night wore on, one by one, the others began to leave. Kaminari was the first to go, complaining about needing sleep. Kirishima left next, followed by Mina and Jirou, until only Bakugou and Y/N remained.

Y/N glanced up from her notes, watching Bakugou as he continued to read his textbook with intense focus. She hesitated for a moment before using sign language to ask him a question that had been on her mind.

"How do you know sign language?" she signed, her hands moving gracefully.

Bakugou looked up, surprise flickering across his face. He hesitated before responding, his voice quieter than usual. "My mentor, Best Jeanist, taught me."

Y/N’s curiosity was piqued. She signed back, "Why?"

Bakugou sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He said if my quirk keeps damaging my ears, it could lead to deafness. He wanted to make sure I could still communicate if that happened."

Y/N's eyes widened with understanding and empathy. She reached out, placing a hand on his arm, offering silent support.

Bakugou looked down at her hand on his arm, feeling a warmth spread through him. For a moment, they sat in silence, the gravity of his words hanging in the air.

"You’re amazing, Bakugou," Y/N signed with a gentle smile. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

Bakugou’s usual scowl softened slightly. "Yeah, well, don't go spreading it around," he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

They continued studying together, a comfortable silence enveloping them. In that quiet room, with only the sound of pages turning and the occasional scribble of a pen, Bakugou felt a sense of peace he rarely experienced.

As the night grew darker, Y/N yawned and stretched. Bakugou glanced at the clock and realized how late it had become.

"You should get some sleep," he said, his voice gruff but caring.

Y/N nodded, signing, "Thank you for staying."

Bakugou gave a curt nod, gathering his things. "Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow."

As he left her room, Bakugou couldn't help but feel a deeper connection with Y/N. She understood his struggles in a way few others did, and that made their bond even stronger.

By their second year, Bakugou's hearing had worsened significantly. He had always been stubborn, but now, it was taking a toll on his mental state. The once vibrant and fiery Bakugou had become distant, pushing everyone away, including his closest friends.

His friends tried to reach out to him, but he brushed them off, too scared and ashamed to admit what was happening. His depressive and anxious episodes grew more frequent, leaving him isolated and conflicted.

He hasn’t even built the courage to tell his parents that he was deaf and in need of hearing aids.

Y/N had noticed the change in Bakugou from the beginning of the semester. The distance between them hurt her, but she respected his space. However, she couldn’t stand by any longer, knowing something was seriously wrong.

One evening, she found Bakugou alone in the training room, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. Taking a deep breath, Y/N approached him, her heart pounding.

"Bakugou," she signed gently, trying to catch his attention. "What's been going on?"

Bakugou looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and despair.

For a moment, he didn’t respond, but then, hesitantly, he signed back, "Don’t tell anybody..."

Y/N waited, her heart aching for him.

"I'm deaf," he finally signed, his hands trembling slightly.

Y/N was taken aback by his admission, but she quickly composed herself. She knew how hard this must have been for him to share. Opening her mouth, she used her quirk to speak directly to his mind, "Can you hear me?"

Bakugou’s eyes widened in shock. He nodded slowly, relief washing over his face. Tears welled up in his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, he felt understood. Her voice had been the first thing he could really hear in a long time.

Y/N knelt beside him, her presence a comforting balm to his troubled mind. "It's okay, Bakugou. You don't have to go through this alone," she continued using her quirk, her voice gentle and soothing in his mind.

Bakugou shook his head, frustration evident on his face. "I hate feeling weak," he signed back, his movements sharp and angry.

"You’re not weak," Y/N responded firmly, her voice steady in his mind. "Admitting you need help takes strength. Let me help you."

For a moment, Bakugou was silent, his internal struggle clear on his face. Finally, he nodded, the walls he had built around himself starting to crumble.

"I’m scared," he signed, his vulnerability raw and painful.

Y/N reached out, placing a hand on his. "I know," she said softly. "But we’ll face this together. You’re not alone."

Bakugou squeezed her hand, a sense of relief and gratitude washing over him. For the first time in months, he felt a glimmer of hope. With Y/N by his side, he knew he could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As they sat in silence, Bakugou suddenly realized something profound. Despite his hearing loss, he could still hear Y/N's voice clearly in his mind, thanks to her quirk. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. No matter how deaf he became, he would always be able to hear her.

"Y/N," he signed, his eyes intense. "Your voice... I'll always hear it, won't I?"

She nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Yes, Bakugou. My quirk allows me to speak directly into your mind. As long as I'm here, you'll always be able to hear me."

Bakugou's heart swelled with a mixture of relief and gratitude. The fear and despair that had plagued him began to dissipate. Y/N wasn't just a friend or a crush—she was his lifeline, the one constant in his world that he could always count on.

"I don’t deserve you," he signed, his eyes glistening with emotion.

"Yes, you do," she replied, her voice firm in his mind. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, Bakugou. And I’ll be here with you, every step of the way."

Bakugou pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the weight of his fears lifting. With Y/N by his side, he knew he could face anything. Even in the silence, her voice would always be there to guide him.

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