#yuki tsunoda fic

[its-avalon-08]

helloo so apparently you’re back? i hope so, i really like ur work! are u taking requests for yuki? if not just ignore this but if u’re can u pls write a fic where he’s kind of neglecting reader because he’s focused in his home race and all the changes happening so reader almost breaks up with him but they ended up working it out?!

{ im back and thank you so much <3 ! I had something so similar in my drafts, so I posted this rally quickly, spelling mistakes might be there. enjoy }

Fading Into You (yt22)

✦ pairing - yuki tsunoda x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, fighting, happy ending

At first, it was just little things.

monday

Y/N woke up to an empty bed. Hmm, strange. That never happened before.

She stretched her arm across the sheets, feeling the cold side where Yuki should’ve been. He must’ve left early. Again.

It wasn’t unusual for him to be up before her during race weeks, but he always made a point to wake her—pressing a sleepy kiss to her temple, whispering a quiet "See you later, baby.” It was routine. Comforting.

But this morning, there was nothing.

She checked her phone. No message. No "Good morning" text. Just radio silence.

Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he forgot.

She shook it off but a part of her realised that this wasn't Yuki.

tuesday

He came home late. Again.

Y/N had been waiting, their usual dinner-for-two going cold on the table. She told herself she wouldn’t be upset. That he was working hard. That she understood.

But when the clock hit 11:30 PM and he finally walked through the door, she still felt that pang of disappointment.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, standing up. “I made dinner—”

“Uh I already ate so like.....”

The words were quick, dismissive. He didn’t even glance at the untouched plates on the table as he dropped his bag by the door and collapsed onto the couch, rubbing his eyes.

Y/N swallowed. “You could’ve told me y'know? So I wouldn't waste my time?.”

He sighed, finally looking at her. “God it's not a big deal. Sorry. It was just… a long day.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

wednesday

Yuki had always been affectionate.

He kissed her absentmindedly when he passed her in the kitchen. Held her waist when they brushed shoulders in the hallway. Squeezed her hand when they watched TV.

But now?

The kisses had turned into quick pecks. The pecks had turned into nothing.

Y/N watched as he scrolled through his phone at the dining table, his untouched breakfast in front of him. She reached out, brushing her fingers against his for him to curl his fingers and intertwine them with hers.

He barely reacted.

“Yuki?”

“Hm?” His eyes didn’t leave the screen.

She hesitated, then sighed. “Nothing.”

She wondered if he even noticed how much had changed.

thursday

Y/N woke up to the sound of Yuki’s voice.

Still half-asleep, she smiled, expecting to hear him talking to her.

But when she blinked awake, she realized he was on the phone.

“…Yeah, I’ll be there at seven. Wait actually when will Max be there?” A pause. “No, let’s push that to later—actually, just text me, I’ll figure it out.”

He was standing by the window, his back turned to her. He hadn’t even noticed she was awake.

Y/N sat up slowly, the blanket pooling around her. “Yuki?”

“Y/N one sec I'm busy,” he mumbled, still on the phone.

Her stomach twisted.

Before, he would’ve ended the call just to kiss her good morning. Before, he would’ve at least acknowledged her.

Now, she wasn’t even sure if he realized she was there.

She laid back down, staring at the ceiling.

This felt different.

friday

She barely saw him.

He had left before she woke up, and by the time he came home, she was already in bed. She heard him moving around in the dark, pulling off his hoodie, plugging in his phone.

She wanted to say something.

Wanted to roll over, grab his wrist, and ask if he even missed her.

But she didn’t.

Because she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

saturday

Y/N wasn’t even mad.

She was tired.

Tired of waiting. Tired of being an afterthought.

She had followed Yuki around the paddock all morning, feeling more like a lost assistant than his girlfriend. He barely spoke to her, barely looked at her, completely immersed in briefings and media obligations. She stayed close anyway, hoping—just once—that he’d turn around and reach for her hand, or check if she was keeping up.

He didn’t.

And then, just when she thought it couldn’t get worse, he left without her.

One minute, she was answering a question from a Red Bull staff member. The next, she turned around and his car was gone.

Gone.

What the actual fuck?

Like she wasn’t even there.

Like she didn’t exist.

She didn’t realize how frozen she was until she heard Max’s voice.

“Where’s Yuki?”

She turned to see Max and Kelly standing a few feet away, both watching her with concerned expressions.

“He left.” Her voice barely came out.

Kelly’s brows furrowed. “Without you?”

Y/N exhaled sharply, pushing her fingers through her hair. “Yeah.”

Max muttered something in Dutch under his breath before shaking his head. “Come on Y/N. We’re not leaving you here like some people.”

She didn’t argue. She let them lead her to Max’s car, let Kelly rub soft circles on her back, let the silence of the drive back sink into her bones. She saw Max and Kelly just co-exist so beautifully in the car, Max's hand on Kelly's pregnant belly, Kelly humming a soft tune and Max joining in. She missed it all with Yuki.

She had put up with the unread messages. The rushed conversations. The loss of affection. She had told herself to wait. That things would get better after the race.

But this?

Being forgotten?

That was the final straw.

Y/N wasn’t even shaking when she walked into their apartment. She thought she would be. Thought she would be angry, would be crying. But she wasn’t.

She was numb.

She locked the door behind her, kicked off her shoes, and walked straight into the bedroom without bothering to check if Yuki was home.

Except—

He was.

Sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t spent the last hour being driven home by Max and Kelly because he forgot her.

Like she hadn’t felt the most humiliated she had ever been in their entire relationship.

Yuki barely looked up when she walked in. “Hey, you’re late,” he mumbled.

Y/N froze in the doorway, gripping the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“I’m late?” Her voice came out eerily calm, but she felt the storm brewing inside.

Yuki finally looked at her properly, brows furrowing. “Yeah. I thought you left before me?”

She laughed. A sharp, humorless sound. “You fucking thought?”

Yuki blinked. “What?”

She dropped her bag onto the floor. “You- you just left me there!”

His expression flickered. “Shit,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “I—fuck, I didn’t mean to—”

“You forgot me, Yuki.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t let herself break. “I was standing there like an idiot, waiting for you, while you just—fucking left.”

“I—I wasn’t thinking, I was just caught up in—”

“You weren’t thinking because you don’t think about me anymore! That's just the truth. You don't care and I'm just a task now aren't I? ”

The words hit the air like a gunshot.

Yuki’s mouth opened slightly, like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t.

Because he knew she was right.

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “This whole week, Yuki. It wasn’t just today. I’ve been right here, watching you pull away from me like I don’t exist. Like I’m just… background noise in your life now.”

Yuki stood up suddenly, like he wanted to come closer, but she took a step back.

“Baby, no—”

“Don’t even try and "baby" me right now.” Her voice was sharp, a warning.

He swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“But you did Yuki. I don't really give a shit on if you meant it or not. This is not how you treat someone you love.” Her chest was rising and falling rapidly now, the numbness breaking apart, making way for all the emotions she had buried.

“Y/N—”

“You don’t kiss me anymore.” Her voice wavered. “You don’t talk to me. You don’t see me, Yuki.”

Yuki ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not true.”

“Really?” Her eyes burned. “Then tell me the last time you asked me how my day was.”

Silence.

Yuki’s jaw clenched.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, pressing her fingers against her forehead. “I don’t know why I even waited this long. I kept telling myself that you’d remember me eventually. That after the race, you’d come back. But maybe… maybe you’re already gone.”

Yuki’s head snapped up. “No. No, don’t—”

“I can’t keep waiting for you, Yuki,” she whispered.

Panic flickered across his face. “Baby, please, don’t say that. I—I know I fucked up, but I can fix this—”

She turned away. “I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

Yuki stepped forward quickly, grabbing her wrist. “Y/N, please.”

She pulled away like his touch burned her. His heart shattered that very moment. The woman he loved didn't want his touch anymore.

For the first time, Yuki’s eyes glistened. “I’ll do better, I swear. Just—don’t walk away from me.”

Y/N met his gaze, and the heartbreak on her face killed him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me all week,” she said quietly. “You never did.”

She turned and walked away.

Yuki felt his chest cave in.

sunday

Yuki barely slept.

He spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, every single word Y/N had said playing on loop in his head.

He had done this.

He had pushed her so far away that now she was actually leaving.

And he couldn’t fucking breathe.

By the time he got to the paddock, his mind was only on her. Not the race. Not the pressure of performing in front of his home crowd.

He needed to find her.

But when he finally did, his stomach dropped.

She was standing near the Red Bull hospitality, talking to Kelly. Her arms were crossed, her shoulders tense. She looked—different. Done.

And Yuki broke.

He walked straight up to her, not caring who was watching, and grabbed her hands.

“Y/N.” His voice cracked.

She stiffened. “Yuki.”

He could see it in her eyes. She was already gone.

No, no, no.

“I’m sorry.” His voice came out hoarse. “I—fuck—I know I don’t deserve you after this week, I know I’ve been the worst fucking boyfriend, I know—” His breath was shaking. “But please. Don’t leave me.”

She swallowed, her fingers twitching in his grip. “Yuki, I—”

Before she could finish, he dropped to his knees.

Right there, in the middle of the paddock, in front of everyone.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Yuki—”

“I love you.” His voice was desperate, raw. “I love you so much, and I forgot to show you that. I got so caught up in my own shit that I—I left you behind.” His hands were gripping hers tightly, like he was afraid she’d disappear. “But I seeyou now. And I can’t—I can’t lose you.”

Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes.

People were watching. Journalists. Other drivers. Team members.

But Yuki didn’t care.

Let them see. Let them see how much he fucking loved her.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he whispered. “Every fucking day Y/N. Just—just give me another chance and I promise I will never let you feel like that again..”

A tear slipped down Y/N’s cheek.

Yuki reached up slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch her. His fingers brushed her wrist. “Please, baby.”

Y/N exhaled shakily. “You hurt me, Yuki.”

His throat tightened. “I know.”

She hesitated, staring at him—at his wide, pleading eyes, at the way he was gripping onto her like she was the only thing keeping him upright.

She had spent the whole night convincing herself she was done. That she had nothing left to give.

But Yuki was right there.

Begging.

And despite everything, she still loved him. He was IT for her.

She sighed, dropping to her knees in front of him. “You have one chance, Tsunoda.”

Yuki’s breath hitched. “You mean—”

She nodded. “Don’t waste it.”

His arms wrapped around her instantly, burying his face in her shoulder as he let out a shaky breath. “I won’t,” he whispered. “I won’t.”

Y/N let herself sink into him, holding him just as tightly.

For the first time in weeks, Yuki finally felt whole again.

[tsunomenom]

short king | yt22 smau

♡ summary: yuki hard launched over winter break but no one realized how tall you were till you’re photographed together in the melbourne paddock (essentially making the internet explode over your height difference & how cute your relationship is)

♡ pairing: yuki tsunoda x gf!reader

♡ warnings: none just fluff

♡ faceclaim: minnie mills

♡ a/n: this is a little short but i might post more of this pairing in the future (if that’s something you guys would want 🫣

masterlist

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

𝜗𝜚

f1gossip

Liked by user221 and 23,128 others

f1gossip Yuki Tsunoda photographed with girlfriend, YN LN as they entered the VCARB motorhome today.

tagged: yourusername, yukitsunoda0511

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user887 they’re adorable 🤧

user120 SHES TALL I REPEAT SHES TALL

user881 EVERYONES TALL TO YUKI 😭

user977 user881 that’s just cruel 😭

user98 THEIR HEIGHT DIFFERENCE STFU-

user904 TALL QUEEN??

user654 TALL QUEEN 🤩

user021 THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE 😭😭😩😩😩😩😩😩

user927 IVE DIED- THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE THE FITS THE BODY LANGUAGE— THEYRE ADORABLE 😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣

user565 paddock it couple??

user196 YESS

user225 obsessed with them 😭

user981 they’re like perfect for each other 😭😭🤧

—— twitter

replies —

user881 it’s f1’s tomdaya 😭

user002 as he should ‼️‼️

user765 tall gf x short bf is always a POWER COUPLE 😭

user923 HONESTLY

user454 IM OBSESSED WITH THEM 😭😭😭

user921 tall girl recognition is so special to me

~~~

user981 OMG 😭

user102 THATS- 😭

user095 the fact she’s like short end of tall but still taller than him 💀

user410 i mean any taller would be crazyyyy 😭😭

user329 THATS LIKE A PERFECT HEIGHT DIFFERENCE 😭😭

user410 ITS LIKE GOALS FR

user923 quickly becoming my favorite couple 🫣🫣

user410 i fear im parasocial about them 🤧

user923 i’m actually their pet cat 🤧🤧

user991 IM OBSESSED 😭

—— instagram

yourusername

Liked by francisca.cgomes and 245,784 others

yourusername aussie date night with my short king (i don’t think he’s that small guys 🤷‍♀️)

tagged: yukitsunoda0511

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user983 BYE NOT THE TINY YUKI 😭

yourusername no idea what you mean he looks reallyyy tall here 🤷‍♀️

user983 right you right my bad 😭

user107 MYY FAVORITE WAG 💀💀

avantika that’s CRUEL

yourusername 🫣😭

user990 THIS IS COUPLE GOALS GUYS ‼️‼️

user804 SHE SLAYYS

lola.tung LOOK AT YOUU 😍

yourusername ILY 🫶🏻

francisca.cgomes beautiful girl 😍

yourusername mwah mwah 🫶🏻🫶🏻

yukitsunoda0511 YOURE SO 😍😝

yourusername AW POOKIE 🤭🤭

yukitsunoda0511 YN 😭 WTF

yourusername whaaa what happened 🤷‍♀️

yukitsunoda0511 😭😭

user021 TINY YUKI 😭😭😭

user103 YUKI WAS EVEN SHOCKED 😭

user978 he got caught up in how hot his gf is 😭😭💀💀

lando can’t believe you’d do him like that 🙂‍↔️

yourusername whaaat he’s a short king ☹️☺️

user299 yourusername bye that’s iconic 😭😭😭

danielricciardo see i know you edited that photo yuki isn’t that tall ☝️

yourusername you got me 🫤😔

yukitsunoda0511 i’m being bullied.

user765 YN quickly becoming everyone’s favorite wag:

user067 wow yuki is way taller in that photo! great picture angles queen! ♥︎ by author

lilymhe you’re actually my favorite person ever 😭😭

yourusername i’m flattered omg 🤭

—— yourusername instagram story

caption 1 i’ve been told by an unnamed source (yuki) that i need to apologize for bullying him on the internet (consider the next slide my formal apology) caption 2: my SINCEREST apologies to my sweet sweet tiny little baby pookie

replies—

yukitsunoda0511 this doesn’t feel like an apology 🤨

➥ yourusername oh! that’s because it’s not hope this helps ☺️

➥ yukitsunoda0511 that’s just cruel treating your short king bf this way 🙂‍↔️

➥ yourusername the internet started it i’m just fueling the fans 🤭

➥ yukitsunoda0511 MENACE 😭

➥ yourusername i love you too 😚

➥ yukitsunoda0511 🥲 i love you (even though you’re a bully)

user992 NEVER CHANGE QUEEN 😭

user021 THE MEMES 😭😭😭

user192 this is so gen z i love it💀💀

lilymhe BYE 😭😭😭😭

avantika formula one fans don’t know how unhinged you are yet 😭

➥ yourusername they’re learning so very slowly 😭😭😭

user876 my favorite f1 couple BY FAR 😭😭😭😭😭

—— instagram

yukitsunoda0511

Liked by pierregasly and 398,923 others

yukitsunoda0511 my tall girl dump 🩵

tagged: yourusername

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user985 STOPPP 😣😭

user765 me thinking this was a cute dump until i got to the last slide: 🥲

pierregasly EVIL 😭😭

yukitsunoda0511 this is revenge‼️

user525 I CANT 😭 THEY HAVE THE SAME SENSE OF HUMOR

user945 we better continue getting embarrassing photos of them both cause this is iconic 😭😭😭

yourusername YUKI WTF 😭

yukitsunoda0511 whaaaa my finger must’ve slipped 🤷‍♂️

yourusername I CANT STAND YOU 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

lilymhe BABY YN 😭😭

yourusername i was the same height as yuki is now

yukitsunoda0511 yourusername WTF

isackhadjar despite the last photo this is actually a very cute post 😭

user917 the fact they can joke with each other like this is what makes them goals 😭😭

user876 the height difference also helps

user917 that it does.

user673 YN WAS ADORABLE AS A KID 😭😭

user826 couple goals 😭😭

user918 super parasocial rn 🥲🥲

~~~

yourusername

Liked by alexandrasaintmleux and 152,543 others

yourusername that’s a wrap on melbourne!! was gonna do a cute lil dump but realized i already posted like every photo i took so enjoy the only one no one posted 🤷‍♀️😚

tagged: yukitsunoda0511

View all comments

avantika too chronically online to save photos for a dump 💀

yourusername shhh don’t call me out im supposed to be cool and mysterious 👀👀

user914 CUTIES 😭😭

user376 tomdaya of f1 ‼️

user995 short king x tall queen 😝

lilymhe had so much fun!! can’t wait till next time😚

yourusername mwah you’re the best 🫶🏻🫶🏻

francisca.cgomes best person to wander around the paddock with!

yourusername love ya kiks 🫶🏻

user934 this is the cutest 😭😭

user109 her little grin theyre so in looooove 😭😭😭😭

user522 PADDOCK IT COUPLE ‼️

user876 POINTS FOR YUKI!!! YUKI DOMINATION ‼️‼️‼️

user995 YUKI DOMINATION ‼️

yukitsunoda0511 i love you sm 🩵 thank you for being my lucky charm this weekend and for always supporting me 🙃

yourusername i love you so much yuki and im always your biggest fan 🥹🥲🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[tsunodaradio]

(in) love language ⛐ 𝐘𝐓𝟐𝟐

yuki has a soft spot for you. (or: the one where yuki is a pretty scary japanese teacher to everybody else.)

ꔮ starring: yuki tsunoda x reader. ꔮ word count: 0.8k. ꔮ includes: fluff, romance. profanity. isack's pov, japanese/french from google translate. ꔮ commentary box: #coping after aus gp. anywaaay. part of my soft spot mini-series! 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Isack is convinced he’s going to go crazy. 

Somebody on the social media team is out to get him. He’s sure of it. Whoever thought up this challenge ahead of Suzuka— a ‘learn Japanese with Yuki’ segment— had flat-out lied to the rookie. 

It’ll be fun, they said. Yuki will be nice, they said. 

“That’s not how you do that,” Yuki snaps on Isack’s nth attempt to write his name in Katakana. 

“If you have an issue with my name,” Isack grumbles below his breath, his pen pressing a little more firmly into the paper in front of him, “take it up with my mother, yeah?” 

“What did you say?” 

“Nothing, nothing.” 

There’s some snickering from the Racing Bulls staff. Oh, they’re having a field day. Yuki is being his usual fiery self, and Isack is the carnage of the older driver’s rampage. And it’s all on camera. 

Isack is already drafting his resignation letter in his head. It’s certainly a lot easier to write than whatever the hell Yuki is expecting from him. 

“Try ‘Red Bull’,” Yuki says, leaning over Isack’s shoulder. “Like this.” 

The Japanese driver scribbles the words across the paper. レッドブル. “It’s pronounced reddo buru,” he adds. 

“Red burr,” Isack tries, and Yuki makes a face. From that alone, Isack knows it’s going to be a long day of filming.

He at least gets some reprieve when the social media team has to ask around for a powerbank. The rookie breathes out a beleaguered sigh, which Yuki pointedly ignores. 

“Are you always like this?” Isack asks. It’s posed to be a joke, but he’s suffered just enough for it to sound half-serious. 

Yuki answers with a question of his own. “Like what?” 

“Un monstre,” Isack deadpans. 

Yuki, once again, chooses to ignore Isack. The older driver instead focuses on absentmindedly scribbling in Hiragana. 

Isack is about to try and get another jab in when you walk in the room.

The changes in Yuki are subtle. The way he sits up a little straighter, the way his eyes flash with something warm. It’s the first time Isack is seeing it happen— or, rather, noticing it. No one else blinks an eye when you try to hide behind the other staff, even as Yuki tracks your every move. 

When he calls out for you, gone is the sarcastic tone of earlier. It’s as if the mere mention of your name has softened all of Yuki’s sharp edges. You shyly come up to the two drivers; the break in filming, dragging out due to a lack of a proper phone camera.  

“Isack,” you greet, “Yuki.” 

“Bonjour,” Isack chirps. 

“We’re learning Japanese today, Hadjar,” Yuki huffs. “Get with the program.” 

Is there— a hint of jealousy in his tone? Isack thinks he must be imagining it. There’s no reason for Yuki to be jealous of him. 

Unless. 

“Oha-yow,” you amend, the word a bit clumsy on your tongue. 

Isack half-expects Yuki to wince, to start cussing you out for butchering his mother tongue. That’s what the past hour has been like for the rookie, anyway. 

Except he does neither. 

“It’s more like ohayō,” Yuki tells you delicately, his expression disgustingly fond. Like he finds your verbal stumble cute. “You should take out the ‘ow’ sound.” 

Isack can’t believe his fucking eyes. 

Here’s Yuki Tsunoda, suddenly doing a full 180. He gives you none of the sarcastic remarks and vicious side eyes that Isack has been receiving in abundance. Instead, Yuki is all gentle reminders and tender touches as his fingers ghost over your wrist, guiding you in writing your name. 

The rookie is slack-jawed as he watches it all unfold. He glances towards the other people in the room, his face a wordless, incredulous question of Are you guys seeing this shit? 

They all stare back at him sympathetically; this isn’t their first rodeo. Everybody knows that Yuki is criminally down bad for you, and Isack is getting a front row seat to the show. 

You say something that makes Yuki chuckle. He laughs a little too hard, throwing his whole body into it. Isack is willing to bet real money that whatever you whispered isn’t that funny, but that doesn’t matter. The two of you have all but frozen out Isack, and now he’s a third wheel to his own co-driver. 

The social media team finds the camera they need for the shoot to continue. You step back into the fringes, and Yuki’s eyes linger on you for just a beat too long. It amazes Isack, just how oblivious you seem to be. 

Yuki looks at you like you’re a language he wants to learn. 

And— if your hint of a smile is anything to go by— then you’re not so far behind him.

All of Yuki’s affection bleeds out of his body when Isack teases him. “Simp,” Isack breathes through gritted teeth. 

Yuki mumbles something back. Isack’s not sure, but he thinks it might be some profanity in Japanese. 

It doesn’t matter. Not when Isack now has ammunition for days. ⛐

[httpsserene]

Hello hello! How are you?

I wanted to request a Yuki Tsunoda one-shot before you close your inbox.

I was thinking of a GN!Driver!Reader (if possible) and Yuki going out for a stroll after the Japanese GP in which the reader got P1. Yuki is showing them around, local places to dine and such... Seeing them be so interested in his ramblings he starts to realize some stuff and decides to act on it!

Please and thank you! Have a nice day! ☀️

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 - 𝐲𝐭. 𝟐𝟐

summary: yuki's private tours include exclusive features, just for you. pairing: yuki tsunoda x gn!driver!reader (reader's race/ethnicity/appearance is not described but, they're bi-poc < 3)

2.7k words. oneshot & smau. yuki pov. fluff. feelings realization. pre-relationship. explicit language. alcohol consumption. flirtation. horny thoughts. author's never been to suzuka (or anywhere in japan) but did a little research for this. i apologize for anything that's incorrect or inaccurate :) requested by @anicega < 3

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. serene returns with a yuki fic/smau she was hoping to post in celebration of him being promoted to RB...have this as consolation instead. belated happy holidays and happy new year, 2025 will be all you wish it to be x

title inspo from one direction's why don't we go there (miss u liam🕊️) they were my #3 artist of 2024 and i'm not ashamed to admit that. when i read this request for the first time i instantly thought of this song and it just had the vibe of realizing you're crushing on somebody.

in other news, my 3k followers celly will serve as my v-day special this year and will last the entire month of february (this is how u properly celebrate black history month) !!! so, trying to finish writing the last of my requests so i can focus on doing the 3k celly requests :) more fics and info coming soon but in the meantime, enjoy reading xxx

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twitter • april 7th, 2024

Yuki watches your expression bloom with awe as you take in the endless sprawl of Sakura trees within Suzuka Flower Garden. Your hand grasps his forearm gently, tugging happily and exclaiming in delight as pink and white petals float through the sky. The flowers (while not as novel to him as they are to you; he’s seen many Sakura seasons growing up in Japan) make him feel nostalgic, memories of his youth—before F1, before karting—tingling somewhere at the back of his head. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Your mouth remains open in amazement until you end up sputtering around a mouthful of blossoms, and Yuki laughs. 

“Take a picture of me, please?” Yuki accepts your phone, not complaining as you make him take hundreds of photos before you find two or three that you deem acceptable. 

Yuki remains silent during your stroll underneath the trees. He allows you space to inhale the vanilla-like scent, to marvel at the image of graceful, falling petals. Every so often, the comfortable silence is interrupted by a passing fan sharing congratulations. They smile kindly while praising your first-place finish, but grin wildly while cheering for Yuki’s first home-race point. 

“She sounded happier about your point than she did about my win,” you remarked, not offended or annoyed, but charmed. 

Yuki denied the idea, but his pink cheeks undermined his credibility. The earlier silence is absent, but not missed as Yuki begins to explain the significance and traditions of cherry blossom season in Japan. 

“The sakura is our national flower. It symbolizes Spring—the time of renewal, life and death, beauty and violence, the fleeting nature of life. The blossoms only last for two weeks, which tells us to appreciate what we have,” Yuki relays, recalling what he was taught in elementary school verbatim.

“We have cherry blossom parties,” he grins at your envious gasp, “—called hanami. The translation is ‘watching blossoms.’ It can be just a walk like we’re doing now, but we also have picnics under the trees with family, friends, and even colleagues. There is also something called yozakura, which is doing the same thing but at night. My middle school held a hanami every year.”

You come to an abrupt start, turning to look at him with pleading eyes, “Let’s do a yozakura! Can’t we have dinner here? I want to see the trees at night—it must be beautiful! ”

Sympathetically, Yuki frowns, “We don’t have enough time to have dinner here if you still want to make it to the shrine before it closes.” His resolve weakens at the growing pouty downturn of your lips, “…I guess, we can have a snack here before leaving.”

He lets you drag him to the closest takoyaki cart, pleased to see the vendor’s patience as you order in choppy Japanese. While the food is being prepared, Yuki tasks you with finding the perfect tree to sit underneath while he stays near the cart.

“The two of you make a cute couple,” the vendor comments, smiling adoringly.

Yuki chokes on his exhale.

The two of you are far from resembling anything near a couple. Or, at least, Yuki thinks so. He thinks of you as a close friend but, do you see him as a friend? What if you view him as a colleague, or worse: just another annoying, backfield, competitor? Banishing his spiraling thoughts, Yuki considers there is no need to correct the kind lady. She doesn’t seem to recognize him. And, if she did follow Formula One, she would know you two aren’t a couple.

“Arigato gozaimasu,” he utters after a beat, reaching for his wallet as she begins plating the snacks.

She refuses to accept payment, ushering him to grab the small plates, “You’ve earned this meal; for your point and their race win—it is free.”

Yuki nearly exhausts himself expressing his gratitude to the vendor as he thanks her and deeply bows. When he finds you sitting underneath the chosen tree, he realizes he forgot to correct her assumption about his relationship status. Instantly, he forgets again, as you reach toward him to tuck a blossom behind his ear with a smile.

“Kawaii, Yuki-chan~,” you tease, grabbing your takoyaki dish off his stunned-still hands. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he flusters eventually, cheeks burning at the sounds of the word cute and his name leaving your mouth in quick succession. Even if the grammar is incorrect and it’s nothing more than a joke.

Yuki practically swallows his snack in one bite. He didn’t know he was terribly longing for authentic street food until his first bite. Not wanting to rush you to finish, he busies himself by searching for the most unblemished flower he can find on the ground.

Yuki waits for the perfect moment when you're distracted by brushing away the petals clinging to your clothing and tucks the near-perfect blossom he picked behind your ear.

“Now we match; kawaii desu~,” he chirps, his grin deceptively innocent. “Close your mouth, it would be a shame if you swallowed more petals.”

Yuki snorts at your offended gasp and dodges the soft punch you throw out as you both dispose of your trash and head back to the car. 

The drive to Tsubaki Grand Shrine is filled with anecdotes about his childhood mischief on these very streets you're passing by and questions about shrine etiquette. He didn’t realize you were so concerned about acting respectfully in the temple until you forced him to quiz you on appropriate manners and the important steps. Your dedication to having the perfect etiquette makes him think you’re one of the kindest people he’s ever known. It’s characteristic of you to be mindful of different cultures and kind overall; the fact that you willingly chose to celebrate a win by letting Yuki show you around Suzuka is telling. 

Yuki parks smoothly, and soothes your worries calmly, “You have no reason to panic. It sounds like you have it memorized—and if you forget anything, that’s what I’m here for. I would be a terrible tour guide if I let you fuck around and get cursed.”

With a healthy amount of side-eye, you quip, “I will write an extremely negative review and give you one star on Yelp. If you decide to fuck around, be ready to find out! Is this your intricate plan to get me cursed with bad luck so I don’t win another race this year?”

With an appalled expression, he earnestly denies, “If I had to pick any driver to win besides myself, I would pick you,” Yuki sees your eyes soften sweetly and he swallows nervously, needing to deflect the attention, “And, maybe Pierre. Only because he would be mad if he found out I chose you over him.”

The soft tinge of your stare remains even as you roll your eyes at him and giggle, “Of course! I could never compare to your lil’ boyfriend Pierre.”

He shrugs, the two of you exiting the car and making your way to the entrance. Feeling devious, he speaks loftily, “Hey. we both know there’s nothing little about Pierre.”

Yuki can admit he deserved to be deafened by your shriek of disgust. His ears continue to ring as you adamantly state that you don’t need any image of the Frenchman in your brain besides the view of his car shrinking away in your mirrors.

The distraction was effective, your earlier panic about proper manners is nowhere to be found as you confidently navigate purifying yourself at the chozuya, only looking toward Yuki once for reassurance. While you’re busy being awestruck by the architecture and natural beauty, Yuki carefully makes sure you don’t stray into the middle of the pathway and finds himself taking candid photos of you. He knows you’ll be disappointed that you forgot to take any, but he doesn’t want to interrupt your reverence. Hopefully, his idea of what makes a beautiful picture satisfies you. He pauses at the thought, wondering if it’s odd that you’re in the forefront of all the images. 

You’ve always been attractive—photogenic, to him.

The two of you reach the shrine and Yuki lets you pay your respects first. He offers you a handful of coins to choose from, reminding you that the amount doesn’t matter, any coin will do. You decided on a 5-yen coin; Yuki’s certain you’re unaware of the belief about that coin increasing your chances of finding a significant other. Although, he is aware that it’s an urban legend. It doesn’t stop his chest from tightening when he thinks about you in a relationship, with somebody who isn’t him. He tosses a 5-yen coin in the offering box to match.

He doesn’t believe in the myth, but if there’s any chance it helps him get together with you he’ll take it.

Burning incense at the temple comes without any more romantic realizations. Buying omamori, on the other hand, has Yuki thinking that what he feels for you is more than a simple crush. He forces himself to not stare at your selections and focuses on his purchases. An en-musubi (for finding love) for himself, and he’s chosen two for you: kotsu-anzen (for safe driving—he thinks it’s a little ironic) and katsumori (for success and victory—he knows you don’t need it).

On the way to dinner, Yuki notices your shuin and asks needlessly, “Is that to remind you of visiting?”

He can feel your gaze as he watches the road in front of him, hearing you ponder over your response, “Of visiting the shrine with you? Yes. Um, I don’t know if this is weird but, I bought you a couple of omamori, if that’s okay?”

Your tone is bashful and when he spares a glance, you avoid eye contact, fiddling with the shuin anxiously. 

Yuki sighs giddily, relieved, “It’s not weird because I bought you a couple too. We can exchange at the restaurant?”

He sees the shock on your face from the corner of his eye, as if you weren’t expecting him to do the same. It angers him slightly, his previous obliviousness. If you didn’t ask him to show you around tonight, he never would have been aware of his budding feelings for you, nor the feelings he thinks you already reciprocate.

You’re overwhelmed with the number of choices at the hole-in-the-wall sushi establishment Yuki chose for the night, eventually slamming the menu shut and asking him to order for you. He sits up straighter at the responsibility, rattling off the plates he’d like to the server, mindful of any preferences and dietary restrictions you have. 

A flight of sake samples is brought to your table, and Yuki finds it fitting that you enjoy the sweetest flavor because it compliments you. The alcohol loosens the tension gathered in him, helping him maintain a semblance of a regular conversation while he refrains from thinking about the shape of your lips, your attentive shining eyes, the length of your neck, your inquisitive questions as he recalls his childhood, the dip of your waist—Yuki doesn’t take another sip after he feels his eyes straying. He’s enamored with your undivided attention and it makes him feel hotter than he was in Qatar last year. 

He asks to see the omamori you’re gifting him before you can comment on the flush spanning from his cheeks down to his collar. Receiving kotsu-anzen (for road safety) and katsumori (for success and victory) from you only serves to make him redder. He thinks about asking for your hand in marriage when he reveals he’s bought you the same and your flush blooms to match his. 

With impeccable timing, the server begins to deliver the endless amount of plates Yuki ordered and the moment passes without being addressed. He almost whimpered aloud when your eyes fluttered shut at your first bite of food, moaning appreciatively at the taste.

Desperate to distract his hindbrain, he stutters, “W-What was I talking about before?”

Yuki feels like you know what he’s trying to hide, your eyes omniscient. He spots the corner of your lips tilting upward into a smirk, but it vanishes before he can be sure and you remind him, “You were talking about beating Natori in Motegi to win the F4 title in 2018.”

The rest of the meal remains lighthearted, intrigued chatter flowing around bites of food as you compare and contrast your junior careers and hometowns. It carries to the final stop Yuki brings you tonight, Isozu Beach. The vast, dark ocean is bathed in moonlight, the salty breeze cooling the air, and the coastline is lit up with buildings. The sound of waves crashing against the shore melts away as the heart-to-heart you’re sharing becomes his sole importance. He’s holding both pairs of your shoes in one hand, listening to your occasional giggles as the tide slips high enough to wet your feet and tickle your ankles. Your lilted and somewhat slurred speech tells Yuki you’re tipsy, but you’re insistent on simply linking your arm with his to prevent yourself from stumbling as you continue to walk the length of the shoreline. The stroll resumes and you slowly lean more of your weight into him; your head nestled on his arm, hand wrapped around his bicep, and Yuki feels you shiver at the next wind gust.

Like a gentleman, Yuki pulls off his sweater and helps you into it when your arms prove to be too clumsy to manage on their own without ending up stuck. Briefly, he squeezes his eyes shut to regain his composure after you bury your nose into the collar of his sweater with a pleased hum. 

“Okay,” he says, sounding strangled, “Let’s get you back to the hotel—you’re more drunk than I thought.”

He suffers quietly during the short trip to the hotel you're staying in. The way you’re humming quietly as you play with the hem of his sweater has his grip tightening around the steering wheel, stopping him from reaching for the handbrake to halt the car and leaning over the console to kiss the tiny grin on your lips. Yuki escorts you to your room door, making sure you arrive safely.

He takes the keycard from you and unlocks the door after you fail at your first few attempts.

The door clicks open and Yuki speaks, “This was…nice. It’s the best celebration I have had in a while. We should do it again, sometime.”

You smile shyly, agreeing quietly, “I think so too. Thank you for showing me around.”

Nervously, Yuki’s voice wavers, “But, next time, I want it to be a date.”

“I think…I think I would like that,” your small smile grows into an unrestrained grin, pupils wide with infatuation.

He exhales roughly, the tight pressure in his chest lightening as it sounds like you like him, want him, too, “W-wait—really?”

Yuki looks on as you hold onto the door for stability as relieved-sounding laughter overwhelms you. Your amusement quiets when you straighten up to meet his eyes once more, probably seeing how he’s honestly shocked at your returned feelings.

“Yuki, babe—” Oh. He’s going to sing in the shower when he gets back to his hotel room. “—I tucked a cherry blossom behind your ear and called you kawaii. I know the 5-yen coin has that myth about relationships, and I bought an en-musubi omamori for myself because it’s for finding love. Obviously, Yuki—I would like to fall in love with you.”

Lost for words, and with his mouth gaping, stunned, he says, “...You do?”

You’re kind enough to spare him with a roll of your eyes, “I do.”

“I bought the en-musubi, too,” he reveals for no other reason than not knowing what to say.

“I know, babe,” Yuki’s heartbeat skips, “I saw it in the bag during the drive back here.”

“When is your flight scheduled?” He asks suddenly, a plan beginning to form in his mind.

“Tomorrow morning?” Your brows are furrowed in confusion at the change in topic, glancing down at your phone screen to confirm, “—Or this morning, I suppose, since it’s the next day already.”

He swallows, eager again all of a sudden, “Is it too soon if I ask you to cancel your flight and spend the rest of the week here with me?”

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, f1, selenagomez and 652,113 others

yourinstagram missed my flight because i got lost in suzuka. not because i got hammered 👍🏽

view comments

user1 when i put "two f1 drivers start dating e/o" on my 2024 bingo card, i meant for it to be lestappen… happy for you though haha...

user2 WHERE HAVE YOU BEEEEN ???!!!

user3 BEDS EMPTY 😡 user4 NO NOTE 😵‍💫 user5 CAR GONE 😫 user2 i was going quoting rihanna but this works too LMAO

danielricciardo well well well

yourinstagram are YOU doing well 🤨 danielricciardo i’m not the one who told their team that they needed to reschedule their flight bc of food poisoning yukitsunoda0511 it’s me! i’m food poisoning 😁🙋🏻‍♂️ user6 YUKIII PLS 😭😭😭

user7 no shot u missed your flight when u told your team to be ready for it on the radio 🤡

yourinstagram do as i say, not as i do—is the phrase, i believe :) user7 okayyy mother gothel since u know what's best 😝

oscarpiastri hey you never gave yuki his sweater back, in case you forgot 😀

yourinstagram oscar please stfu i’m never telling u anything again landonorris hey don’t speak to osc like that…he’s just a boy :( yourinstagram lando u can stfu too? tf ??? these hands are rated e for everyone 🤺 user8 the threat of violence almost distracted me from the sweater exchange…keyword being almost

user9 no post about the race win and no tag for yuki on the last photo…

-yourinstagram hey i won the suzuka gp in case anybody forgot :p -yukitsunoda0511 hey i’m in the last photo in case anybody didn’t know :3

instagram • yukitsunoda0511

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, nicorosberg and 739,926 others

yukitsunoda0511 i do private tours 🇯🇵🍣⛩️🌸🌊🌖😚🥇

view comments

pierregasly no point in asking who took that last photo 😏

yukitsunoda0511 your mom did pierregasly yuki please yukitsunoda0511 is what your mom said last night user10 your honor, my client pleads: boy best friends

user11 that’s a lotttt of emojis yuki-san

user12 he graduated from the charles leclerc school of emoji usage with honors 🧑🏻‍🎓 charles_leclerc i am a very good teacher 😊 user12 chuck legleg responded i can die happily now

yourinstagram do you have any tours available in shanghai next week?

yukitsunoda0511 there’s a spot open at a discounted price! yourinstagram how much will it cost me 🥴🤧 yukitsunoda0511 five or six kisses should cover it :) yourinstagram payment is on its way rn 🏎️💨💨💨 user13 this could have been a private whatsapp message… user14 going to say taylor swift sucks on twitter so death comes faster

visacashapprb when you tell your driver to have some decorum and he decorates his caption instead 🫠🫠🫠

user15 WAITTT WHY WAS THIS ACTUALLY A FUNNY JOKE💀💀😭 user16 when you tell your driver to score a point and he decides to score a date as well 🫠🫠🫠 pierregasly when you tell your driver to stop harassing pierre and he cyber bullies him instead 🫠🫠🫠

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[f1girliefics]

Perfect Fit

Yuki Tsunoda x SlightlyTaller!Reader

Summary: Yuki Tsunoda never cared that you were taller. If anything, he adored it, always finding ways to remind you just how much he did.

Yuki had never cared about your height. 

If anything, he seemed to like it. 

The first time you had hesitated, unsure if he’d be bothered by the small yet noticeable difference, he had simply smirked and shrugged.

“So what? Makes it easier for me to look up at someone I like.”

That was Yuki. 

Unapologetically confident, effortlessly charming in his own way. 

And if you ever dared to mention it as anything other than a fact, he’d remind you just how much he liked it.

Like now, as you stood beside him in the garage, watching the mechanics fine-tune his car before a race weekend. 

You were leaning against the barrier, and Yuki, ever the tease, came up behind you, resting his chin against your shoulder.

“You know, this is actually a perfect height for me,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement.

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “Oh? How so?”

His arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you back slightly so you were pressed against him. “It means when I hug you, I fit just right,” he hummed, as if proving a point. “Also, you block the sun for me when we’re outside. Very convenient.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, tilting your head so your cheek brushed against his. “So I’m your personal shade now?”

“Among other things,” he said smoothly, before letting go just enough to turn you around. “But mostly, I just like looking up at you. Feels nice.”

He grinned, and you felt your heart squeeze at the warmth in his dark brown eyes. 

Yuki had always been a force of energy, of passion, of drive, but here, in these little moments, he was something else entirely—completely at ease with you.

And in the middle of a paddock filled with noise and chaos, it was enough to make everything else fade away.

A/N: As a way of celebration for Yuki-san's RedBull signing, I wrote this small piece. I do plan on writing more for Yuki in the future, drop your ideas for him in my inbox!

[norrisradio]

SURFSIDE

༄ PAIRING: yuki tsunoda x olympic surfer! reader | ༄ WC: 1.8K ༄ GENRE: fluff // established relationship ༄ INCOMING RADIO: based on this IG post // also because i swore i would write yuki x surfer! reader for a certain someone (@tsunodaradio. its always for kae if i'm writing about yuki sorry not sorry)

༄ SUMMARY: “You trust me?” // "Obviously." // "Then get on the board."

The sun glares against the water, a bright, golden sheen stretching over rolling waves. You stand at the shoreline, board under your arm, watching Yuki hesitate at the water’s edge. His feet sink slightly into the wet sand with every cautious step forward, then back, as if the tide itself is testing his resolve. His board dangles from his fingers like it might bite him.

“You’re stalling,” you grumble, adjusting the strap around your ankle.

“I’m assessing the risk.” Yuki’s eyes flicker to the water, then back to you. “What if a shark—”

“Oh my god.” You grab his wrist, tugging him forward before he can finish the thought. He yelps, stumbling after you, the resistance in his body melting just enough to follow.

The water surges around your ankles, then your knees, each wave curling around you in a familiar embrace. Yuki, on the other hand, flinches at every shift beneath him. You guide him deeper, adjusting his stance when he wobbles, fingers firm against his waist when he nearly loses balance.

“You trust me?”

His brows furrow, like the question wasn’t fair. “Obviously.”

“Then get on the board.”

Yuki exhales sharply but obeys, climbing onto the board with an almost comical determination. His grip is stiff, his body too rigid against the gentle sway of the ocean. You move beside him, running a hand along his back to ease the tension there.

“Relax,” you murmur. “The ocean can tell when you’re nervous.”

“I think it already knows,” he mutters, eyes locked on the water ahead.

You laugh, pushing lightly against his board. The motion startles him, but he steadies, adjusting to the rhythm of the waves. Progress.

A set rolls in, and you spot one that was small enough for him to try. “Alright, this one. You’re gonna paddle, then pop up—just like we practiced.”

Yuki swallows. His knuckles whiten around the edges of the board.

“You’ve driven a Formula 1 car at 300 kph,” you remind him.

“That has an engine.”

“You don’t need one.” You give his board another push, just as the wave caught up. “Go.”

And he does. His arms cut through the water, quick and determined, and then, almost too quickly, he's up—knees bent, arms out, wobbling, but upright.

For two glorious seconds.

Then—splash.

You wince as he tumbles into the water, disappearing beneath the surface before popping up again, coughing and spitting saltwater. His hair's plastered to his forehead, eyes squinting against the sunlight.

You swim toward him, biting back a smile. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” He wipes at his face, looking scandalized. “That was terrible.”

“You stood up.”

“For a second.”

“Still counts.”

He grumbles, floating on his back now, exhaustion outweighing his frustration. The water cradles him, the rise and fall of the tide much gentler now that he wasn’t fighting it. You drift closer, reaching out to brush damp hair from his face.

“Again?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

Yuki sighs, looking past you toward the horizon, where the next set of waves rolled in. His lips quirk, barely a smirk.

“Yeah,” he says. “Again.”

The next wave rolls in, a steady swell rising beneath the horizon. Yuki’s fingers flex against the board, jaw tight. You nudge his shin with your foot.

“Breathe.”

A sharp exhale, salt thick in the air between you. Then, a nod. You brace a hand against the back of his board as the water lifts it, steadying him.

“Start paddling.”

He moves with the wave this time, arms carving through the water in strong, quick strokes. His board tilts forward, caught in the current.

“Now—pop up!”

For a second, he hesitates. Then his body shifts, hands planting firm against the board, legs swinging under him. A wobble, the smallest dip—then balance.

Knees bent. Back straight.

The wave carries him, smooth and effortless, foam trailing in his wake. The wind tugs at his soaked hair, salt clinging to his skin.

And then—laughter.

It breaks from his chest, bright and unrestrained, carried by the wind as he rides the wave all the way to shore.

You swim forward, watching as he half-jumps, half-falls off the board into the shallows. When he turns, face flushed and breathless, his grin is wide, sunlit.

“Did you see that?”

You wade toward him, barely resisting the urge to splash water in his face. “No, I was too busy making sure a shark didn’t get you.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn't argue, water dripping from his hair as he trudges back toward you. When he's close enough, his fingers curl around your wrist, tugging you forward. The ocean sways around you both, waves breaking gently at your knees.

“You’re gonna make me do it again, aren’t you?”

You tilt your head. “Would it be so bad?”

His grip on your wrist tightens—just slightly. The same way he does before a race, before a flight, before pulling you close in the quiet of your shared apartment.

Another wave rises behind you, distant but steady. Yuki glances over your shoulder, eyes narrowing, already calculating.

Then he smirks.

“I think I can go faster.”

You barely have time to react before Yuki's already paddling out again, cutting through the water with newfound confidence. You follow, trailing just behind him, watching the way his shoulders move, the way the ocean didn’t fight him as much anymore.

When the next wave approaches, he doesn't hesitate. His body moves like muscle memory—push up, legs under, weight forward. He catches the wave clean, riding it smoothly, adjusting his stance when the board wobbles beneath him.

This time, he lasts longer. The wind pulls at his damp trunks, the sun catching the water droplets on his skin. His movements aren't perfect, but they were his.

You catch up to him just as he reaches the shallows again, where he tumbles off his board and into the water with a loud splash. He barely has time to shake the salt from his face before you tackle him, arms looping around his shoulders.

“Look at you,” you murmur, grinning against his temple.

“Look at me,” he echoes, laughing as he wraps an arm around your waist. His grip is firm but familiar, the same way he always reaches for you—without thinking, without needing to.

The waves lap at your legs, the tide pulling and releasing. He's warm against you, even with the ocean clinging to him. You brush wet strands from his forehead, fingertips dragging along his cheek, and he leans into the touch like it was second nature.

“Not scared anymore?”

His gaze flickers past you, scanning the water as if daring something to emerge. Then, he smirks.

“Still wouldn’t swim alone at night.”

You roll your eyes, and he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. The sun sits lower in the sky now, burning gold against the water, and Yuki—breathless, salt-kissed, beaming—looks like he belongs in it.

You nudge his side. “Race you back out there?”

His fingers curl against your hip, grip tightening like he might just hold you here instead.

But then—

“Loser buys dinner.”

And just like that, he's gone, already sprinting back into the water, kicking up sand and surf as he goes. You barely have time to react before you chase after him, laughter breaking through the roar of the waves.

The waves roll in softer now, the ocean easing into a lazy rhythm as the sun dips lower. Yuki floats beside you, legs half-draped over his board, arms stretched out in the water. His breathing slows, no longer tight with hesitation, no longer rushing to match the rise and fall of the tide.

“You’re quiet,” you murmur, treading water next to him.

He hums, eyes half-lidded, lashes still wet. “Tired.”

Your fingers brush against his wrist, the contact light, fleeting. He catches your hand before it could drift away, thumb pressing against the crease of your palm, tracing along the salt-dried skin.

“You like it, though,” you say, watching the way the water rocks him, how his shoulders had finally loosened, how his breathing matches the pulse of the waves.

A small smile. Not the cocky smirk from before, not the teasing grin he threw your way when he won the race back out here. Just something easy.

“It’s nice,” he admits, voice quieter now. “I get why you love it.”

Your thumb brushes over his knuckles, and he lets you. The sky had shifted to deep orange, streaked with pinks and purples, reflecting off the glassy surface of the water. You both let it settle around you, the hush of the ocean, the distant calls of birds overhead, the occasional crash of a wave breaking further down the shore.

Yuki exhales, tilting his head toward you. “If I ever get eaten by a shark, it’s your fault.”

You scoff, flicking water at him, but he doesn't let go of your hand.

The sky burns gold and violet as you drag your boards up the shore, sand clinging to your skin, salt thick in your hair. The ocean murmurs behind you, waves folding gently against the beach.

Yuki drops his board onto the sand with a heavy sigh, flopping down beside it, legs stretched out, toes digging into the cool grains. His trunks cling to him, still damp, his hair a mess of tangled strands, but he looks—content.

You collapse beside him, close enough that your shoulders brush. He nudges you with his knee. “So, did I pass?”

You pretend to consider. “Mm. Needs improvement.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, but his fingers reach for yours anyway, tugging lightly before settling in the space between them. His palm is warm, calloused from years of gripping a steering wheel, but it fits against yours like it belonged there.

The ocean stretches wide before you, endless and steady. The wind curls through your damp clothes, the scent of salt and sun lingering between breaths. Yuki’s thumb traces slow circles against your skin, absentminded, like he didn’t need to think about it.

“You’re gonna make me do this again, aren’t you?”

You turn, catching the soft curve of his lips, the ease in his posture.

“You’re gonna want to.”

A beat. A breeze. Then, a quiet laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, leaning back onto his elbows, gaze fixed on the horizon. “Maybe.”

He’d always been like this—full of fire and mischief, all sharp grins and quick retorts. But when the world around him stopped moving at 300 km, he fell into something quieter.

The ocean had slowed him, pulled him into its rhythm. No roaring engines, no flashing lights—just the waves, steady and endless, stretching far beyond what even he could chase.

He sits with his arms braced against the sand, fingers idly sifting through the grains. The sunset paints him in gold and violet, soft where he was usually sharp. His damp hair curls slightly at the edges, salt still clinging to his skin.

For once, he isn't itching to go somewhere. Isn't waiting for the next thing.

He just sits there, next to you, and lets the world move without him.

[multicohn]

summary: nicole piastri ships y/n with yuki and is determined to get them together.

warnings: none

pairing: fem! reader x yuki tsunoda

genre: fluff

face claim: none

author note: tbh this sucks, but yuki retired and im upset.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n can clearly remember when her crush on yuki tsunoda started:

oscar had only talked about the japanese male a few times, his mother absolutely loved him. when the australian grand prix came around, oscar had ( unwillingly ) invited his own teammate along with yuki tsunoda, daniel couldn't join them since he was going to spend time with his family, but sent a gift basket to thank her for the invite.

y/n was very nervous about interacting with the two drivers since she never strayed too far from the garage or hospitality when attending the races.

she was busy chatting with hattie at the table when they arrived. oscar greeted his friends and guided them through the house, y/n making sure to keep her head down and pretend to type away as they came in.

“thought you only had three sisters?” lando asked once they were out of ear shot

oscar shrugged, “we grew up together, it’s basically the same thing”

“no, it isn’t” lando argued

“yes, it is”

“no. it isn’t”

“yes. it is”

“isn’t”

“is”

while the two mclaren drivers argued, yuki greeted oscar’s mum to brought him into a hug before ushering him out of the kitchen and refusing his help. yuki sat down at the table and smiled at y/n who had looked up to see who sat across from him.

“i’m yuki” he reached his hand out and y/n wiped her slightly sweaty hands onto her skirt / shorts / pants

“y/n”

“so, how do you know, oscar?”

“we went to primary together”

y/n thought that yuki was quite sweet for talking to her, but figured it would change the moment oscar or lando came — but, it didn’t. yuki was curious and wanted their conversation to go on forever, he liked talking with her and found himself glancing in her direction every few seconds.

nicole noticed this and couldn’t help, but let out a giggle.

since then, her mission had been clear: get y/n and yuki to date.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

it was no secret to fans that nicole piastri absolutely adored yuki and made jokes about her basically adopting him into the family since oscar is considered a leclerc now. every time y/n would accompany the piastri family to a race, nicole would drag her off to see yuki before making up some excuse to leave them alone ( despite all the staff members that were also around ). y/n knew what nicole was doing, but kept quiet.

“y/n!” she looked up from her phone to see who had called out her name and smiled at seeing yuki jogging towards her

“hi, yuki” he reciprocated her smile before stopping just a few centimetres in front

“oscar’s mum just came by, but you didn’t, so i came to find you” she felt herself grow warm at his words

“oh, sorry, must’ve been too caught up with oscar”

an uncomfortable silence fell between them as everyone else moved around the pair, completely unaware of their thoughts.

“should i walk away now?”

“should i tell her what oscar’s mum told me?”

yuki cleared his throat and it made y/n pull her eyes away from the slightly cloudy sky.

“so — oscar’s mum told me that you have a crush on me…”

y/n’s eyes widened as yuki nervously played with his hands before continuing on.

“she did what? should i run? i should probably run. how did she even know? was i that obvious or was yuki oblivious? fuck —“ her internally monologue was cut off by yuki speaking

“sorry, um, if you’re not busy after the race. do you want to eat with me?”

“oh! um, sure” yuki smiled and y/n tried to reciprocate it, but her beating heart didn’t stop

“okay. um, so, i probably have to go back now” he glanced down at his watch and y/n nodded silently already taking a few steps back

“i’ll see you later”

“bye” y/n said quietly while waving at him

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

extra scene

oscar looked at his mother with a weird expression as she explained her plan to get y/n with yuki.

“what if rejects her and she comes crying to the garage?” she waved him off

“he likes her back” oscar didn’t believe her

“mum, i don’t know”

“don’t be a wet blanket, oscar” one of his sisters spoke as she walked past him and he just sighed

~

nicole gave her son a smug smile as she watched yuki and y/n from inside mclaren’s hospitality. he shook his head, not believing his mother’s faith in yuki liking y/n — he didn’t even know she liked him, but was brushed off by his mother who wasn’t surprised.

“hey, y/n” oscar called out as she made her way towards them

“hey, osc” he rolled his eyes at the nickname

“what were you and tsunoda talking about?”

“he asked me on a date?” his mother smiled widely at her words

“that’s sounds more like a question…” he trailed off making nicole glare at him, upset that he’s ruining the fantasy of her ship

“well, he asked me to eat with him after the race. it might be cause nicole told him that i liked him-“ she gave the older woman a look, but she pretended not to notice “-but, yeah” oscar just sighed, again

[rqsie63]

WE WERE BOTH YOUNG WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU - Yuki Tsunoda.

pairing: yuki tsunoda x female kpop idol / best friend reader.

summary: yuki and reader are friends since ever, when she in mónaco to attend an award show and they reunite the feelings he secretly has for her do nothing but grow.

warnings: none. ignore the typos please im too lazy to correct them, english is not my first language.

a/n: honored to join the yuki tsunoda love club. thank you for the love the little alex albon smau is having jsjfjdj is overwhelming (in a good way). this is not my best work but I'm happy with the results anyway❤

ynupdates just posted.

liked by user63, ynhq, user12 and others.

ynupdates: in her most recent Instagram Live YN confirms she is a very close friend of Formula 1 driver Yuki Tsunoda.

"It started in kindergarten, our mums basically forced us to be friends. They know eachother since college so we had no choice but to keep the legacy alive".

yourusername just posted.

liked by ynupdates, ynhq, aespa_official and 123k others.

yourusername: awards season is coming to an end🥹, thank you for your love and support. mónaco see you soon for the final round 😘🤍

view all the comments...

user1: totally forgot about MAMAs taking place in monaco, can someone explain??

user2: they started doing this last year, the show was in the US for some reason idk

user3: global expansion they said. hate this whole concept of doing the sow outside asia just for validation

user4: atp im here for the red carpet looks and performances lol

ynhq: YUKIYN REUNION

❤️ liked by yourusername

yourusername just posted.

liked by yukitsunoda0511, ynupdates and 78456 others.

yourusername: excited about being in such a wonderful place for the first time 🤍 thanks to my tour guy 🤗

user5: yuki so boyfriend

user6: monaco looks so good on you 😍

user7: stay there forever it suits you so much 😍

yukitsunoda0511: "tour guy"?, it's "my best friend the most handsome tour guy on earth" to you 😐

user8: who is this beautiful woman and why's yuki here

user9: she's a kpop idol and yuki's best friend, they have known each other for life basically

yukitsunoda0511 just posted.

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, alex_albon and 235876 others.

yukitsunoda0511: best friend duties i guess 🙄

view all the comments...

user10: the friendship i deserve

user11: they're so cute, just kiss eachother rn

yourusername: shut up you love it

user12: "i guess🙄" keep fighting my man, your time will come

user13: you guys think he's going to the MAMAs to watch her perform??

user14: he's totally going, with his own lightstick and stuff.

motorsportsgossip just posted.

liked by frascisca.cgomes, ynupdates, ynyukiiii and others.

motorsportsgossip: Formula 1 Driver Yuki Tsunoda spotted at the MAMA Awards Night 1 in Mónaco.

His close friend YN of Aespa performs tonight.

user14: what the hell is a MAMA Award?

user15: hope they're dating idc

user16: cisca on the likes?? 😭

yukitsunoda0511 instagram story.

story's replies:

francisca.cgomes: pierre and I were wondering....

francisca.cgomes: ARE YOU STUPID?

yukitsunoda0511: unprovoked???

yukitsunoda0511: what did I do now?

francisca.cgomes: you have this WOMAN in front of you, how are you just best friends

yukitsunoda0511: not this again, I'm not planning to tell her. this is how it's has to be.

francisca.cgomes: thank you, question answered

yourusername: damn I look good 😍

yukitsunoda0511: always so humble ❤

yourusername: thank you for being there tho, I've been so tired these few days but having you there with me gave me an energy burst ❤

yukitsunoda0511: always ❤

yourusername just posted.

liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, aespa_official and others.

yourusername: monaco, you're unreal ✨ thank you thank you, i'm so happy to be here 🖤 (part 2 of this post with the performance outfits coming up🤭)

view all the comments...

user17: stunning

francisca.cgomes: what a beauty!

❤ liked by yourusername

yourusername: thank you kika!

user18: yuki if you don't make a move...

yukitsunoda0511 just posted.

liked by yourusername, ynupdates, pierregasly and 93474 others.

yukitsunoda0511: first time at the MAMAs, where amazing and promising asian artists like @yourusername can show the world what they're made of. congratulations my dear, you killed it ♥️🔥

view all the comments...

user19: yuki tsunoda the best friend that you are!!

user20: MY DEAR, I'm not okay leave me alone

-texts between yuki and pierre

-texts between you and yuki.

yukitsunoda0511 just posted.

liked by frascisca.cgomes, alex_albon, yourusername

yukitsunoda0511: mónaco you always offer me the best views...🌙❤

view all the comments...

user21: WAIT

user22: is this a soft launch??

user23: if this is not ⭐HER⭐ I don't want it.

yourusername just posted.

liked by aespa_official, yukitsunoda0511, francisca.cgomes and others.

yourusername: guess i really like it here, mónaco you're magical 💙

view all the comments...

user24: stop playing with our feelings and confirm you're eating each other

user25: girl-- 😭

user26: cuties

motosportsgossip just posted.

liked by user145, user28, use194 and others.

motosportsgossip: Formula 1 Driver Yuki Tsunoda spotted KISSING a young woman around Mónaco.

view all the comments...

username: IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS???

username: GOD finally yuki isn't bitchless anymore🙏

-texts between yuki and you.

yukitsunoda0511 just posted.

liked by alex_albon, pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, yourusername and others.

yukitsunoda0511: is it official now, @.yourusername? it feels amazing to call you mine.

view all the comments..

user27: FUCKING FINALLY

user28: we love besties to lovers!!

pierregasly: about damn time my friend

yourusername just posted.

liked by yukitsunoda0511, francisca.cgomes, aespa_official and others.

yourusername: I don't know how it gets better than this💙 (yes @.yukitsunoda0511, it's official now)

view all the comments...

user29: i can already imagine her outfits on race weekends

user30: God i've been waiting for this HOW MUCH TIME

francisca.cgomes: yyyayyy congratulations

yukitsunoda0511: I love you 💙

yourusername: to the moon and back❤

[feedback it's always appreciated❤- 14/01/25)

[thatsdemko]

all mine… and his too- y.tsunoda

fc: hina yoshihara

summary: dating yuki comes with a package deal

pairings: yuki tsunoda x fem!reader

warnings: no clue what to put here just enjoy

yourusername

liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly, & 4,378 others.

yourusername: one year of being the third wheel to yours and @ pierregasly’s relationship. thanks for kissing me sometimes!

100 comments

yukitsunoda0511: I kiss you more than Pierre

yourusername: are you implying that you kiss Pierre?

pierregasly: happy anniversary to us!

yukitsunoda0511

liked by yourusername, nyckdevries, pierregasly, & 7,538 others.

yukitsunoda0511: spent my birthday in Sanrio puroland and I didn’t even get a souvenir

100 comments

yourusername: and you liked it!

pierregasly: was he tall enough for all the rides @ yourusername?

yukierrefan: yuki a confirmed hello kitty fan?

yukitsunoda0511: no

yourusername: such lies! he loves Sanrio he’s a stan

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, yukitsunoda0511, & 3,561 others.

yourusername: my boyfriends boyfriend

208 comments

yukitsunoda0511: lies I am only your boyfriend

pierregasly: that’s not what you told me last night!

francisca.cgomes: 😔 third wheelers for life

gaslybrakes: let’s sue yuki for emotional damage

liked by yourusername

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, alphatauri, & 5,932 others.

yukitsunoda0511: recents of the season

400 comments

yourusername: you just had to include him didn’t you?

pierregasly: most of the pictures are of you anyway!

yukigaslyfan: y/n is about to dump yuki

yukitsunoda0511: no she loves me too much to do that

yukitsunoda0511 added to their story

[charlesslut16]

hiii if you like the idea could you make a cute and a (bit smutty but mostly cute) Yuki imagine? I was thinking on the reader joining the paddock for the first time, as Yuki’s girlfriend and if Gasly can be featured being a tease to them both would be so cute! I’ll leave the rest to you thank you in advance! 💙

-joining the fun-

summary : you joing the paddock for the first time...

PAIRING : yuki tsunoda x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i hope that you liked the first season of the year, loves!

december masterlist ; masterlist   

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If someone asked you how you felt right this second, you could not answer it. You were excited and happy, yet you were also a bit unsure and insecure about yourself and how you would show this relationship to do in public. 

Today was the day, the day you went on your first F1 race. And it was the first time that you and Yuki would show your relationship in public, in front of thousands of fans.

You and Yuki have been together for so many years and everyone knew that he had a romantic partner in his life, but you never showed it in public. It was long overdue.

 Partly it had been because Yuki wanted to experience being in a relationship without any fans interfering in his love life, and on the other part it was because you were not in the public or any famous person.

You had never told Yuki the reason why you didn't want to go public with him when he asked, you had always said it was because you did not want to share your relationship with thousands of people.

But after weeks and months of begging and pleading, you gave in to Yuki and told him that you would go to the next race with him. You could swear you never saw him smile bigger.

So the day came when you and Yuki went to the Bahrain GP.  Yuki drove you there, and you exited the car and took a deep breath. You needed a moment to check your surroundings. But the moment did not take long.

As Yuki went to your side of the car and took your hand in his, he kissed your hand and led you to the entry of the Grand Prix. Yuki was a ray of sunshine, as always, but you were a wreck, you were nervous.

But the time to be a wreck was over, now was the time to be the best version of yourself, so you composed yourself and gave yuki a light smile that indicated that you were ready.

You walked up and scanned your tickets and off you went. In mid-walking through the paddock, with lots of fans screaming and admiring you and your relationship, pierre came up.

"How are you doing, love birds? Is it like you expected y/n?" Pierre nudged Yuki and laid an arm around you to tease you a bit but also taking you off the stress with his little jokes.

"Yuki, you can't keep your hands off of her, can you??"

You looked over to yuki to his annoyed but cute face, that you loved so much. Yuki hated it to be teased, but as you were with him there was nothing to kill his mood, not even pierre.

"As if you could keep your hands off of your girlfriend, p"

With that statement, Pierre backed off of the two of you and went to his girlfriend, who was talking to some staff members. And you and yuki walked away to talk to fans or to sign some things.

And as you walked to the fans, you were nervous. What if they didn't like you? But as you came to the fans, they were very welcoming of you. They asked questions and complimented you. 

It was as if you were on an all-time high. It was nothing like you expected and imagined days and weeks before. Likewise, it was like a dream came true, even though you did not even dream this.

And after all the talking, you and yuki separated, he walked with pierre while you walked with Kika and some other wags that were in the paddock that wonderful day.

But before you walked away, yuki pulled you into his arms and gave you a big warm hug, a kiss to say goodbye to each other and a hand kiss for the appreciation that he felt.

"Thank you so much for coming with me today, love. I know that you did not want to make it that public, but I still think that it was a good idea, don't you think so?"

"Yes, handsome, the idea was very good. But enough off that you need to drive a race and to make it memorable because it is the first race that I see live. I do not want to be disappointed. Maybe there will be a reward later. I love you."

And with that you finally walked away, leaving the men standing there and you girls walking away. They were really like to have all of their girlfriends and wives.

[dolene]

COMPETITIVE GAMES ; yuki tsunoda x reader

summary: how does a casual game night could turn into something more than just a night and it's only because of his competitive nature.

note: yukierre reference because even their gf couldn't top their bromance, AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUKI!!

taglist: @seasonswinter @haikyuen @callsignwidow

...★...

pierregasly

liked by yourusername and 110,936 others

pierregasly What a real game starter because I win 😄🥇

view all 322 comments

username Why is it so hard to believe on something like this if it's Pierre who post it?

yukitsunoda0511 Because I'm the one who's actually winning but I let him win

pierregasly Stop spreading lies, you kicked me twice during the race

username how tf is he even be there w him? yesterday he's literally still vlogging in miami

username Yuki is so cute! ^^

username You can even see his impatience on the second slide because he's never been a patient man

yukitsunoda0511 I've been practicing my patience ever since I dated yourusername

yourusername same tbh

yourusername

liked by franciscac.gomes and 61,534 others

yourusername i warn him about this before, and look he's breaking down on the dancefloor 😜

view all 197 comments

username Guys he's break-dancing

franciscac.gomes THERES MURDER ON THE DANCEFLOOOORRRRR 😌🎶

username oh man he really is getting murdered because of those brazilian phonk dances

username Idk but that is so Yuki

username I bet he got an F

username WHY IS HE IN BRAZIL

username Yuki Tsunoda reportedly has fallen during the dance, defeated by his girlfriend

yourusername 😌

yukitsunoda0511 This is just your lucky day, my legs are getting tired

yourusername dances are not your forte, so why are you still picking it tho 🖐️😭

yourusername Proving my real dance skills until my legs are betraying me

pierregasly The best thing he could ever done is to beat me at karaoke

yukitsunoda0511 No I'm not, I beat you in everything in games

username damn i forgot his ego's big as a goddamn boulder

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly and 102,533 others

yukitsunoda0511 I let her win.

view all 361 comments

yourusername 😄

danielricciardo I thought that you guys was just being there for a day or two...?

username nothing can beat his competitiveness

starwars I see you yoda biggest fan

yukitsunoda0511 I wasn't sure if it's real BUT YES IT'S ME

username Because that's him in the second slide (real)

username what a real thing that he would absolutely do to receive more scores

username short king is finally winning (his second place)

username WHYS HE CLIMBING THE MACHINE LIKE THAT😭😭😭😭

Y/N'S INSTASTORY, A DAY AFTER DEFEATING YUKI

yourusername · 3h

caption: at the end of the day, he's finally defeating me

[bluenerdtastemaker]

TIRAMISU ?

Hidden Hearts in Milan Sequel

--

I may or may not have been found on Twitter, so I have been demanded by a mutual, so here I am posting this, ehek, I make this one Christmas vibe because I can :p <3

--

This fic timeline happened after the incident (read the prequel, trust me) <3

--

Yuki adjusted the camera angle for the fourth time, muttering under his breath. The ring light was too bright, the counter wasn’t centred, and he was beginning to regret agreeing to this at all. It wasn’t the first time he’d streamed for his growing audience, but it was the first since the incident.

The infamous moment when Pierre, his boyfriend, had kissed him on a live stream—fully aware that Liam Lawson was sitting right next to them, mid-bite into a bowl of noodles. Liam had frozen, noodles half dangling from his chopsticks, staring into the void like his soul had left his body. The internet had exploded. Memes, edits, reaction videos—weeks later, people were still talking about it.

Now, Yuki found himself doing a cooking stream—a tiramisu stream, no less—because Pierre had casually mentioned it was his favorite dessert. Naturally, Pierre was also in the room, lounging on the couch, ready to turn the whole event into chaos. And Liam, because Yuki apparently couldn’t escape him, had somehow wormed his way into being an in-person audience member, happily eating snacks while everything unfolded.

After fiddling with the camera one last time, Yuki sighed and forced a calm expression onto his face. His lips twitched upward slightly, fighting off a smile. No big deal. Just make tiramisu and ignore the chaos. He hit the button.

“We’re live,” he muttered.

The chat exploded immediately.

User 1: OMG, HE’S HERE. CHEF TSUNODA IN THE HOUSE!

User 2: Yuki blink twice if this is Pierre’s fault.

User 3: Let’s gooo. Boyfriend stream round two?!

Yuki’s lips twitched again, this time in exasperation. “No, this isn’t Pierre’s fault,” he said, carefully glaring off-camera at Pierre, who had already propped his chin on his hand, grinning. “This is a totally voluntary cooking stream. I wanted to do this.”

“Sure you did,” Pierre teased, his tone as sweet as honey.

“Pierre, stop,” Yuki said, fighting hard to keep his face neutral, though his smile broke through just a little.

“I haven’t even done anything!” Pierre protested, spreading his arms dramatically.

Yuki rolled his eyes and turned back to the camera. “Anyway, today we’re making tiramisu, which—surprise, surprise—is Pierre’s favorite dessert. He’s been pestering me about it for weeks.”

Behind him, Liam, who was perched at the dining table with a bag of chips, snorted. “Pestering is putting it lightly,” he said between bites.

“Liam, no one asked you,” Yuki muttered, though he couldn’t quite hide the small laugh that escaped him.

User 4: NOT LIAM THIRD-WHEELING AGAIN.

User 5: Boy’s just here for the snacks and drama. Respect.

User 6: Wait, tank top Yuki?? Sir, what is going ON.

Yuki frowned slightly, glancing at the screen. Right. He was wearing a black tank top today—a decision he was definitely regretting now that the chat had noticed. He groaned inwardly but tried to play it off.

“Can we not focus on my clothes?” he said, carefully whisking the eggs. “I’m wearing this because I didn’t want to set my sleeves on fire. Again.”

Pierre, lounging on the couch like he owned the place, chuckled softly. “Ah, the great Hoodie Fire of last month. Truly iconic.”

“Do you want me to ban you from the kitchen?” Yuki shot back, his smile twitching as he fought to keep a straight face.

Liam, mid-chew, raised a hand. “Can I get banned too? That’d be less stressful than whatever this is about to turn into.”

The chat was having none of it.

User 7: HOLD UP. MUSCLES?! SINCE WHEN?

User 8: Betrayal. I thought he was a chaotic gremlin, not a fitness influencer.

User 9: Not Pierre looking like he won the lottery in the background.

Yuki groaned, his cheeks heating up. He turned, catching Pierre’s not-so-subtle gaze. “Stop staring,” Yuki said, his voice tinged with both embarrassment and amusement.

“I can’t help it,” Pierre replied with a teasing grin. “You’re very distracting today.”

“Do you want me to throw this whisk at you?” Yuki asked, holding the whisk up threateningly.

Liam paused mid-bite, eyes darting between the two of them. “Please don’t. I don’t want to get hit as collateral damage.”

Ignoring the growing chaos, Yuki focused on cracking the eggs. One by one, the yolks fell perfectly into the bowl. He whisked with precision, lips twitching as the chat began spiraling again.

User 10: THE WAY HE WHISKS. THIS IS A WHOLE VIBE.

Max_Verstappen33: Pierre’s been working him too hard at the gym, huh?

Charles_Leclerc: Why wasn’t I invited to this?

Yuki froze. “Max?! Charles?! Why are you here?!”

Pierre leaned back, looking utterly unrepentant. “I might have sent them the link. And Lando, too.”

“You WHAT?!” Yuki’s voice cracked slightly as he shot Pierre a disbelieving look.

Pierre shrugged, his grin widening. “They wanted to see the famous Chef Tsunoda in action.”

Yuki closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Chat, focus. We’re making tiramisu, not turning this into a group roast session.”

“Too late,” Liam muttered, popping another chip into his mouth.

As Yuki began whisking the mascarpone, his biceps flexed, and the chat descended further into chaos.

User 11: THOSE ARMS. WHO EVEN IS THIS YUKI?!

User 12: I can’t handle this. Someone send help.

Liam_Lawson: I’m actually living for this.

Yuki glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Liam, who is holding his phone, and seems to be typing the viewer stream comment. “Aren’t you supposed to be neutral?”

Liam grinned. “I’m here for free entertainment. And snacks.”

Pierre stood, walking over to rest his chin on Yuki’s shoulder. “Ignore him. You’re doing great, mon amour.”

“Pierre, move. You’re in my space.”

“Am I?” Pierre pressed a quick kiss to Yuki’s cheek before stepping back.

The chat lost it.

User 13: DID HE JUST KISS HIM LIVE AGAIN?

User 14: Boyfriend rights are so unfair.

Liam_Lawson: I’m officially done. Where’s the tiramisu?

With a sigh, and blush, Yuki finished layering the dessert. “There. Done. And if anyone touches it before it sets, I’m kicking them out of my apartment.”

Pierre immediately grabbed a spoonful. “Perfect, just like you.”

Yuki flushed, his lips twitching into an involuntary smile. “You’re the worst.”

In the chat, Max and Charles had been eerily silent—until now.

Max_Verstappen33: Okay, I’ve had enough of this. I’m leaving.

Charles_Leclerc: Agreed. Goodbye forever.

User 15: LMAOOO MAX AND CHARLES ARE DONE.

User 16: They came for the food but left because of the PDA.

“See?” Yuki said, crossing his arms and glaring at Pierre. “Even they’re over you.”

Pierre just smirked, dipping another spoonful of tiramisu. “That just means I get you all to myself, no?”

Off-camera, Liam groaned loudly. “I’m leaving too. This is too much. Call me when the tiramisu cooled down.”

And with that, the stream ended, leaving the viewers to meme the chaos for days.

[tsunodaradio]

love at first flight ⛐ 𝐘𝐓𝟐𝟐

what would yuki tsunoda be doing in economy, anyway?

ꔮ starring: yuki tsunoda x graduate student!reader. ꔮ word count: 5.4k. ꔮ includes: romance, humor, fluff. profanity, mentions of food, death (as a joke), flying-induced anxiety. reader is studying something statistics-adjacent. isack makes an appearance. loosely inspired by the statistical probability of love at first sight. ꔮ commentary box: tsunoda debut on tsunodaradio RAAAH 🦅🇯🇵 this is shamelessly inspired by the 2024 video of yuki flying economy. ilysb, my environmentally friendly king (lol). 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

♫ kaiju no hanauta, vaundy. good company, sos. make a move, lawrence. shut up, greyson chance. drive safe, rich brian. call me up, daydreamers.

“You know, statistically, there’s a 0.10 fatality rate in commercial aviation.”

On the other end of the phone, your best friend sighs. It’s not particularly reassuring. 

“This isn’t a joke,” you hiss, panic rising in the back of your throat like bile. You weave through the LAX with your boarding pass clenched in your free hand. “What if this is one of those flights?” 

“It won’t be.” Your best friend’s tone is firm and no-nonsense. You would be appeased, but then, she goes on to give the most terrible platitude known to man: “What’s the worst thing that can happen?” 

The answer to that question turns out to be a seat transfer. 

You’re standing to the side of the plane aisle, red-faced and mortified over a mishap that was beyond your control to begin with. Your seat— the one you spent an absurd amount of time picking out— was broken. 

In your head, you’re already cussing out United Airlines and whichever higher power has it out for you. Outwardly, though, you stay perfectly calm as the flight attendant tries to find you a comparable seat.

“These are the only remaining options,” the attendant notes, perfectly apologetic as she leads you further down the row. 

An aisle and middle seat in a row of three. Your fingers flex around the straps of your hand-carry duffel bag. You’re already mentally drafting the strongly-worded review you’ll be writing for United. 

“I’ll take the aisle,” you say stiffly. “Thank you.” 

The attendant gives you a pitiful smile and promises you extra snacks later. It pales in comparison to the window seat you had originally booked, but you’ll take the small concession. 

You settle into your new seat with a heavy exhale. The nonstop flight is 12 hours long— barring any hitches— and so the only thing you can pray for is that whoever sits adjacent to you doesn’t have a crying baby or anything of that sort. 

The Universe gives you that, at least. 

“22T?”

You look up. The stranger isn’t talking to you, you realize; he’s more of mumbling to himself. You can appreciate that he’s dressed for comfort. A black sweatshirt with the Red Bull logo and a pair of washed out denim jeans. He has a headset hanging around his neck, too, indicating a readiness to spend the entire flight dead to the world around him. 

You must stare for too long, because you end up meeting the stranger’s gaze. He looks like he’s around your age, which is the exact type of story that would have your best friend squealing in your ear. 

It’s not that type of story. At least that’s what you want to believe. 

You give the stranger a tight-lipped smile. He nods in acknowledgement as he takes his seat. You turn back to your personal television, silently grateful that there’s an empty seat between the two of you. 

And it could end there, could just be your run-of-the-mill long-haul that’s largely uneventful, but you’re so obvious. 

You thought you weren’t. You thought you were blending in, acting completely normal. You’re not quite sure what gives it away, though it can be anything from the mindless nail-biting to your knee bouncing up and down.

It takes everything in you not to jump in your seat when the stranger addresses you. “First time?” he asks, the amusement evident underneath his heavily accented English. 

A sheepish grin tugs at your lips. You force your knee to still, your eyes flicking around the plane that’s slowly filling up. 

“Yeah,” you admit. “You?” 

It’s a stupid question, you realize later. Everything about the stranger showed that he was prepared for this— his easy countenance, the neck pillow he had in his hand. At the moment, though, he takes your query in stride. 

“Nah,” he says. “I’ve traveled quite a bit.” 

You nod absentmindedly; your attention is divided. The aisle is mostly clear by now with the exception of flight attendants marching up and down to check if everyone has their seatbelts on. 

“Will it be your first time in Japan?” 

You’re jolted to realize that the stranger is still conversing with you. He’s focused on his personal television, but he’s making small talk that would throw you off otherwise. 

As it is, though, you’ll take any diversion you can get. “It will be,” you respond, “my first time in Japan, I mean.”

Although you can only see the side of the stranger’s face, you catch a hint of a smile. “It’s a very beautiful country. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” he says benevolently. 

A closer look at his features gives you some idea of his ethnicity. You take a gamble. “Where are you from in Japan?” you ask. 

The stranger hums thoughtfully. It strikes you as odd, initially, until you realize he’s probably contemplating how much information he should give out. He caves anyway. “Sagamihara city, in Kanagawa prefecture.” 

“Ah.” 

“You’ve never heard of it, have you?” 

“... Sorry.” 

When the stranger laughs, you have a fleeting thought. He’s attractive, you think, with the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“Didn’t expect you to know it,” he says. “It’s a pretty small place.” 

You wish you could offer better conversation to this polite stranger. You really do.

But the plane’s engine has rumbled to life, and you feel the vibrations to your fingertips. The flight attendants are going through the standard safety procedures— no smoking, staying seated while the fasten seatbelt sign is on— and you listen like your life depends on it. 

Even the demonstration demands all your attention. You watch like a hawk as an attendant shows off how to use the air masks and flotation devices. The attendant is bored because this is a routine she’s done hundreds of times before, and all the other passengers are disinterested as well. They ignore the attendant, shutting off their phones and examining the in-flight magazines. 

You never look away. In your peripheral, you think the stranger might be shooting you bemused glances. You could be imagining it, though, so you don’t point it out. 

When you grab the laminated safety instructions from the seat pocket in front of you— intent to review it, like there’s some kind of in-flight test to prepare for— the stranger actually has the audacity to laugh. 

“Sorry,” he huffs when you glance at him. “I’ve never seen anyone actually read one of those things before.” 

“Better safe than sorry,” you say dryly, but a corner of your lip has twitched into a smile. 

The stranger leans over the empty seat between you, his seat belt straining against his middle. You resist the urge to nag him about sitting back. 

“So,” he starts, “what’s your deal?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I could have probably worded that better.” 

“Probably.” 

He shoots you a grin and amends, “Why are you heading to Tokyo?” 

The plane is starting to push back from the gate. You feel your stomach lurch, and your hands instinctively wrap around the armrests. 

There are numbers swimming in your head. 53% of aircraft accidents are attributed to pilot errors. There were 1,417 aviation crashes in 2024. 80% of all aviation accidents— 

“Hey.” 

The stranger’s voice is gentler, now. 

“I asked you a question.” He’s teasing, but there’s something almost kind underneath the mischief. You could cry with how grateful you feel for him in that moment. The realization that he’s trying to distract you. 

“An academic conference,” you manage. “I’m presenting something.” 

He lets out a low, impressed whistle. The plane picks up speed, barreling down the runway with a rush of noise. You’re tipped back into your seat as momentum beats out gravity, but the stranger stays surprisingly steady. 

His gaze on you stays, too. It encourages you to keep talking, to babble about your dissertation as the plane tilts backward. 

The plane’s wheels give a final bounce. Your breath catches in your throat when you realize you’re aloft, the change in pressure making your ears pop. 

The stranger, seeing the discomfort that crosses your expression, fishes for something in his pocket. “Should’ve offered this earlier,” he says, extending his hand to you. 

A packet of chewing gum. You take one wordlessly, and the two of you simultaneously pop a stick into your mouths. The pressure in your ear clears surprisingly fast. 

“Thanks—,” you start, faltering when you realize you don’t have a name to address the stranger by. 

There’s a flicker of something on his expression. Something you can’t quite place. It’s a mix of surprise and suspicion, softened by what looks a lot like relief. 

“Yuki,” he offers. “You can call me Yuki.” 

to: bestie 🤞 connected to in-flight wifi! wahooo! no untoward incidents at takeoff (got transferred tho, will explain everything later) but it’s too soon to say shit. 11hrs to go. stop jinxing me pls. from: bestie 🤞 LFGGG!!! Sorry you didn’t get your window seat bae ;( I hope you’re at least next to someone HAWT  to: bestie 🤞 ahahaha… about that… from: bestie 🤞 DON’T PLAY WITH ME RN.  to: bestie 🤞 he’s okay looking. he looks about as old as me. he was nice during takeoff and he has juicy fruit gum. that’s it tho.  to: bestie 🤞 do NOT say anything about this being like an emily henry book. from: bestie 🤞 THIS IS EXACLTY LIKE AN EMILY HENRY BOOK to: bestie 🤞 what did i say??? from: bestie 🤞 🤷 Your message came in late!! from: bestie 🤞 SOOOOO??? WHO IS HE to: bestie 🤞 his name is yuki.  from: bestie 🤞 Yuki????????????????????? from: bestie 🤞 What does he look like??????????????? to: bestie 🤞 japanese. from: bestie 🤞 No SHIT Sherlock to: bestie 🤞 why.  from: bestie 🤞 Can you ask him what he does for a living  to: bestie 🤞 why??? from: bestie 🤞 Do it for MEEE pls!!! This is life or death actually  from: bestie 🤞 And b let’s be real. I know you and I know you wanna know too 👀 Don’tcha

You do. Of course you do. 

But conversation with Yuki died a natural death when the seatbelt sign clicked off, forcing you to think of the perfect way to accomplish your best friend’s absurd request. 

The snack trolley offers you an opportunity.  

When the attendants go around peddling the vouchsafed flight snacks— a sad-looking bag of trail mix— Yuki catches the look on your face. He barks out a laugh as he tears into his own pack. 

“This is one of the better ones,” he tells you, popping a handful of the granola and dried fruit into his mouth. He chews through them with impressive speed, waiting until his mouth is no longer full before he adds, “I was once on a flight where the only snack was cheese spread and crackers.” 

“No way.” 

“Yes way.” 

Before Yuki can pop his headphones back on, your mind whirrs with potential segues. The words are past your lips before you can think of them. 

“You said you travel quite a bit,” you blurt out. 

Yuki’s eyebrows arch upward. “I said that over an hour ago.” 

“Yeah, well,” you stammer, “you still said it, didn’t you?” 

He snorts, the sound edged with amusement. For what it’s worth, he looks willing to indulge you. You push on, “What job do you have, then?” 

There it is again. The expression you weren’t quite able to nail earlier. He seems doubtful of your intentions, but when you don’t waver, he bites. 

“I drive,” he says, like it’s the most obvious, simple thing in the world. 

You blink once. Twice. “You— drive?” you repeat. 

“Yes.” Yuki almost smiles. It looks more like a smirk. “I’m a driver.” 

“Like a chauffeur?” 

Now that wipes the grin right off Yuki’s face. He stares at you like your words had been the equivalent of a record scratch, and then he laughs. 

It’s interesting, just how much you can learn about a person in an hour. You file away this little fact, too. Yuki, who throws his head back when he’s really laughing, his body shaking with mirth. The sound isn’t loud, isn’t the type that might have the person in the next aisle complaining, but it still fills you with an odd sense of triumph. 

“I guess you could say that,” he manages once his laughing fit has died down.

“In that case—” You gesture to his sweatshirt. “That makes sense.” 

He glances down at the Red Bull logo. His lips twist into another barely-there simper as he prods you, “What does that even mean?” 

“I don’t know. I always supposed drivers were one of Red Bull’s target audiences.” 

“Really.” 

“Really. 42% of energy drink consumers enjoy Red Bull. I’m not surprised you’re part of that.” 

Yuki gives a slight shake of his head. You wince, as if realizing you’re doing it again— spewing out numbers unprompted, trying to get percentages to clarify something that doesn’t really demand an explanation. 

Except he doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t poke fun at the habit. In fact, he sounds a touch awed as he muses, “You really like your stats, huh?” 

You raise your shoulders in a shrug. “Numbers are good.” The words sound weak even to you, so you double down. “They’re reliable and they give you a good picture of something.” 

“Numbers don’t lie,” he says. 

The statement is surprisingly profound. “Numbers don’t lie,” you echo, a pleased smile of your own beginning to break on your face. 

Yuki watches it, watches you, before seeming to make a decision. “This is— this is a bit hard.” 

You don’t have to wait too long to see what he means. In the next moment, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and half-standing in a jerky motion. He carefully maneuvers towards you, landing heavily on the empty seat that had separated the two of you for the past hour and a half. 

Yuki doesn’t strap himself in yet. He just tilts his head to one side, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “I have questions about your dissertation.” His voice is surprisingly quieter even though he’s bridged the distance. You have to lean in a bit to hear him. “If you’ll entertain me, that is.” 

Something in your chest lurches; it feels a lot like how the plane had bounced during takeoff. “It’s a lot of numbers,” you say lamely. 

He looks unfazed. “What? You don’t think a chauffeur can handle data and statistics?” he teases as he absent mindedly toys with the buckle and retractor resting on his thigh. 

This wasn’t the plan. You had hoped to spend your first ever plane ride watching a movie, maybe reading a book. Snapping photos of cumulonimbus clouds and complaining to your best friend the entire time about one thing or the other. 

Instead, you find yourself telling Yuki, “Ask away, then.” 

He clicks his seatbelt into place.

to: bestie 🤞 [Sent an image.]  to: bestie 🤞 meal time.  from: bestie 🤞 Yum yum yummm  from: bestie 🤞 Speaking of yum 🤤…  to: bestie 🤞 have some tact pls. he’s a chauffeur.  from: bestie 🤞 Oh.  to: bestie 🤞 oh?  from: bestie 🤞 Are you SURE that’s what he said to: bestie 🤞 yes??? from: bestie 🤞 Okay okay I’ll stoppp  from: bestie 🤞 What would yuki tsunoda be doing in economy anyway LMAO  to: bestie 🤞 who?  from: bestie 🤞 Do you remember the tate mcrae tiktoks I sent u  to: bestie 🤞 ohhh. that lando guy. from: bestie 🤞 My loml 🧡🧡🧡 but yes, there’s a yuki on the grid to: bestie 🤞 you’re delusional.  from: bestie 🤞 I hope you choke on ur dry ass airplane food actually❤️Love ya!

“Have you been driving for long?” 

Yuki pauses halfway into devouring his mid-flight sandwich. For the past two hours or so, the stream of conversation between the two of you has flowed rather easily. But it’s also mostly been about you— Yuki asking all the right questions to have you going on 15-minute rants. 

Some of it tangented the moment that food started getting served. You find it hard to believe that you’re already hour four in the air. 

Eight more hours to go.

You might as well try to get to know Yuki, too. 

“About— four years, give or take?” he responds after a beat, as if he’d needed to do some mental math. “I started in 2021.” 

“How did you get into it?” 

“I always knew I wanted to.” 

“Be a chauffeur?” 

You realize immediately just how snooty you sound. “I’m sorry,” you say in the next breath, horrified at your indiscretion. “That was— uncalled for.” 

Gracefully, Yuki doesn’t look offended. He’s got a lopsided grin on his face, like the blunder has amused him. He finishes off his sandwich before putting you out of your misery. 

“Driving,” he clarifies. “I’ve always known I would do something with driving.” 

You perk up a bit in your seat. “Why is that?”

He hesitates, his lips quirking to one side as he— once again— seems to contemplate just how honest he should be. You make a mental note to take his words with a grain of salt. 

“Have you ever heard of kart racing?” he says. 

There’s a glint in his eyes that tells you this, at least, won’t be a lie. 

It’s his turn to talk. You don’t think he notices, but every so often he’ll use a Japanese word or phrase that you don’t understand. You make no effort to ask for clarification. It’s enough for you to see the sheer enthusiasm radiating off him as he tells you about karting as a child, and how he’d even done things under big names like Honda. 

“I can’t believe you started karting at age four,” you say, half-teasing and half-awed.

He gives a vague hand gesture that attempts to communicate nonchalance, but he looks far too smug to pull it off. “Driving has always been a part of me,” he concludes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be without it.” 

It’s a commitment you recognize. You’re just about to ask something else about him being a racing kart kid when your conversation is interrupted. 

“Yuki.” 

Even if it’s just Yuki being called, you can’t help but glance as well. There’s a guy hovering on Yuki's side of the aisle, eyeing the two of you with mild interest. 

“We figured out the seating problem,” the newcomer tells Yuki. His English is accented, too. You think it might be French. “You can move up to the front now, if you like.” 

“It’s not the ‘front’, Hadjar,” Yuki shoots as he leans back into his seat. He addresses Hadjar with an easy air; you gleam that they’re probably friends. “It’s ‘first class’.” 

“Front, first class, whatever.” Hadjar gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’ve got your seat.” 

“Only took you four hours,” Yuki grumbles, and you laugh under your breath. 

The soft sound seems to remind Yuki of your presence. His gaze flicks over to you, and he tenses a bit. A full second ticks by. And then another. And then— 

Hadjar clears his throat. “Any time now, Yukino.” 

You had seen how different it was in first class. More space, better seats. The food would probably be nicer, too. You busy yourself with your personal television, trying to keep at bay the slight swell of disappointment in your chest at losing your seatmate. 

Except Yuki doesn’t move. 

“I think I’m good, man,” Yuki says to Hadjar. 

Yuki, too, is pointedly avoiding looking at you. He’s trying to be casual about passing up his first-class upgrade, about the way Hadjar is snickering. 

You can’t ignore the way your pulse stutters. The way it damn near stops when Yuki says, his voice so deliberately even, “I’ve got pretty good company right here.” 

to: bestie 🤞 okay, fine from: bestie 🤞 ??? to: bestie 🤞 he’s hot.  from: bestie 🤞 EXACTLYYYYYYY from: bestie 🤞 I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THESE 🙏🙏🙏 to: bestie 🤞 be normal. i’m just appreciating him ok. from: bestie 🤞 Wtvr you say LOVERGIRL  from: bestie 🤞 WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW?! to: bestie 🤞 ? nothing. watching a movie from: bestie 🤞 okayyyy movie date  from: bestie 🤞 mile high club 🔜 to: bestie 🤞 this conversation is over. 

It occurs to you that you could probably just search it up. 

If you really, really wanted to scratch the itch of whoever the hell ‘Yuki Tsunoda’ was— you could just Google it. The in-flight WiFi was working swimmingly. It’d take one search, and you’d confirm whether the guy to your left has been lying to you or not. 

In the end, you find that you don’t really care. 

The cabin lights have been dimmed. When you crane your neck to check the few windows, all you see is inky darkness. 

“We’re probably still over the Pacific,” Yuki says. 

He pitches his voice lower, probably out of respect for the snoozing passengers in the rows you’re sandwiched between. You’re left with no choice but to lean into his personal space. 

Your knee presses into Yuki’s. 

You don’t apologize. 

He doesn’t pull away.

The warm overhead glow of the seatbelt sign is your only source of light. Yuki’s dark hair falls into his eyes, but you have a feeling he’s still watching you with that scrutinizing gaze of his. It’s like he’s holding his breath; for what, you’re not sure. 

“How do you feel about the ocean?” you ask, because there’s five more hours before you’re in Tokyo and you never have to see this man ever again. 

You figure you could be anyone you want to be. You could be honest; you could lie your ass off. You could ask all the hard-hitting questions and come away unscathed, knowing this was a one-off in a liminal space that barely even feels real. 

Yuki’s lips quirk to one side. He seems to be thinking the same thing. This is a safe place to land, a one-act play.

“I hate it,” he answers without missing a beat. “Sharks.” 

You have to tamp back a laugh. “Sharks?” 

“They’re evil and scary.” 

“There’s only a five-year average of six unprovoked, shark-related fatalities per year.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Cows are worse.” 

“Cows?” Yuki’s eyebrows knit together. “Like— mooo?” 

“Like mooo,” you say solemnly. “Cows kill about 22 people per year in the United States alone.” 

“Holy shit.” 

“Right?” 

“You’re—” Yuki falters with a shake of his head, as if he’s banishing the thought that had just come to his mind. 

You can’t have that. Playfully, you knock your knee against Yuki’s. “Don’t back out on me now,” you jab. “I’m…?”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth. You see the moment he decides fuck it, the way his eyes flash and he just pushes out the words that’d been at the tip of his tongue. 

“You’re cute,” he says, “when you talk numbers.” 

This time, you can’t fight the laugh that escapes you. It’s a little too loud; the person in the seat in front of you actually twists around to glare at you. You mumble an apology and lean in closer to Yuki, who doesn’t protest the way you’re practically leaning on his arm rest. 

“‘Cute’ isn’t usually the word people would use to describe my nerdiness,” you joke, even though your palms suddenly feel a lot more clammy than it did a couple of minutes ago. 

Yuki shrugs, feigning coolness. “I was actually going to go for ‘hot’,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper, “but I didn’t want to scare you off.” 

It occurs to you that this is flirting. Yuki’s hitting on you, throwing the ball in your court, and it’s your turn to say something just as smooth. 

But then the plane jolts, straining your seatbelt against your form. Your fingers immediately find purchase at your armrest as the overhead seatbelt light blinks on. 

“Ah, fuck,” Yuki grunts as he sinks back into his seat. “Turbulence.” 

You would consider it a bit of a saving grace, if it weren’t for the forceful jolts that make you feel like your heart is in your throat. You know it’s not something to worry about— the pilots are trained professionals, after all— but the numbers all still glaring in your mind, like neon signs in their own right. 

A breathing exercise. You should do a breathing exercise, you think. Or think happy thoughts. You squeeze your eyes shut as the turbulence rocks the plane a little more forcefully, jostling everyone on this flight.

Think about your itinerary in Japan, about a little Yuki go-karting, about sharks and cows, about— 

There’s a hand on top of yours. 

The neon signs in your head fizzle out. 

You don’t open your eyes. You don’t have to. 

Yuki doesn’t say anything either. He just carefully, slowly strokes your white-knuckled grip with his thumb. His palm is surprisingly warm, and it grounds you enough to remind you, Right. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.  

You don’t know how long the turbulence lasts. It ends, by the Universe’s grace. You hear it first— the seatbelt light switching off. 

It’s your turn to hold your breath. 

You’re scared to move, scared to open your eyes. You think that if you do either, you’ll have to face the gentleness of Yuki’s touch, the kindness you don’t know what to do with. You’re scared he’ll stop, pull away, if you look at him.

And so you keep your eyes closed, and you keep on doing your breathing exercises despite the steady rise and fall of your chest. 

And Yuki keeps on holding your hand. 

You don’t know when you fall asleep, but you do. It’s a fitful sort of rest borne from the crash and burn of adrenaline. You stir some two hours later with a crick in your neck, your hand still under Yuki’s, and your head lolling against his shoulder. 

The moment you realize how closely you’d gravitated to him during your nap, you’re peeling away from his side. He rouses as you do, his hands rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

Yuki is heavy-lidded as he offers you a hint of a smile. “What for?” he prods, his voice raspy with sleep. 

You’re not sure, you realize. You’re sorry for falling asleep on him. You’re sorry for letting him hold your hand. 

You’re sorry this flight will have to end.

You shrug.

“Then don’t,” Yuki says with surprising firmness. “Don’t apologize.” 

His fingers twitch like they’re itching to reach out again. But he doesn’t, and so you only nod in response. 

“What should I eat when I get to Tokyo?” you ask for the lack of a better thing to start with, and Yuki lights up like it’s a question he was born to answer. 

from: bestie 🤞 YOU’RE LANDING SOOOONNNNNN <333  from: bestie 🤞 Congratulations on surviving your first flight my darling dearest 🧑‍✈️ to: bestie 🤞 💋 love ya. going on airplane mode. i’ll text once i’m omw to my hotel.  from: bestie 🤞 Please do!! from: bestie 🤞 Don’t forget to give your seatmate a little goodbye kiss :)  to: bestie 🤞 do you want to die.  from: bestie 🤞 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Landing is infinitely worse than takeoff. 

As the plane begins to descend, you fight down the vague brush of panic. Not so much for the landing itself, but for what begins and ends because of it. You wrap your hands back around your armrests, your gaze fixed firmly on the personal television charting the flight’s progress. 

Yuki doesn’t say anything. You realize you don’t know what type of person he is, not really. Would he joke around with you, if you were more than just two people stuck next to each other on an eight hour flight? Would he comfort you; would he tease you? 

You’re struck with a sudden thought. A question you’d been meaning to ask. Now or never, it seems. 

“Why didn’t you move up to first class?” you ask suddenly. 

Yuki lets out a sound— something between a chuckle and a groan. He answers your question with one of his own. “Have you been thinking of that this entire time?” 

“Not the entire time,” you shoot back. 

He clicks his tongue. For a moment, you’re sure he’ll field the question, but he gives in. What does he have to lose, anyway, when you’re landing in less than 15 minutes? 

“You’re good company.” The way he says it— like it’s as certain as the numbers you keep count of. 

It’s that. The same thing he told Hadjar. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

There are worse ways for this story to end, you decide, as you give a low hum of approval and brace for impact. 

“You were pretty good company, too,” you say. 

You’re sure that the two of you haven’t been entirely honest with each other this flight— the illusion of choice, of reinvention, just a little too alluring to ignore— but you hope Yuki knows that much, that one, is true.

So many first-time fliers have had terror stories about their experience, about the people with them. This was not one such case. 

You don’t want to be sappy about it. You don’t have to, really. Not when Yuki is fighting back a smile, his own hands resting at his arm rests.

Your elbows squeeze against each other as the plane’s wheels hit the ground, and you take it as the last ‘accidental’ touch you’ll ever get from this virtual stranger. 

This funny, handsome, kind stranger. 

You wish you were the type of person to ask for someone’s Instagram handle, to secure a phone number. Instead, you’re the type to duck your head and avoid Yuki’s gaze as he takes a suspiciously long amount of time packing up his own things. 

He stands up to go as you linger in your own seat, middlingly tugging at the duffel bag underneath the seat in front of you. 

Don’t say goodbye, you nearly say. I’m not good at those. 

“Thank you for flying with Yuki Air,” he says instead, doing a poor imitation of the pilot. “We hope you enjoy your stay in Japan!” 

You laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all. He tacks on something you don’t understand, something in Japanese— sabishiku narimasu ne— but you don’t have the time to ask for a translation. 

“I’m going to go meet up with my friends.” He shoulders his backpack, eyeing the slow-moving aisle on his end. “Don’t forget my food advice.” 

He had been particular about the must-get dishes. “Motsunabe and seafood pasta,” you say, and he nods with approval. 

A final smile. That’s all he offers you as he starts to step away. 

Yuki didn’t seem to like goodbyes much, either. 

Your fingers tighten around the strap of your duffel bag. 

“Hey, Yuki!”

He’s already a couple of paces away, but his head whips around to look back at you. There’s something on his expression; it looks a lot like hope. He’s stuck in the line, though, and you know you can’t stall for too long.

“Drive safe,” you blurt out, immediately feeling stupid about those being your parting words. 

You have no idea. You have no idea just how perfect it is, how there’s no phrase that would have left a better impression.

“I will,” he says with that treacherous, treacherous smile. 

And then he’s gone. 

Approximately 27 minutes later, you’re in the back of a cab staring slack-jawed at a billboard for the upcoming Japanese Grand Prix. Front and center, the country’s home driver. 

The boy you’d sat next to for 12 hours. 

You do the only logical thing. You call your best friend to apologize and say she was, in fact, not delusional. 

She’s screaming in your ear as you rummage through your duffel bag in search of your printed out hotel booking. 

“I can’t believe you were next to Yuki fucking Tsunoda,” your best friend screeches, “and nothing came out of it!”

“Ha-ha,” you say dryly. “You know I’ve got, like, zero game, right?”

“Don’t give me that! You could totally pull if you tried!”

Your best friend is caught between extolling your virtues and catching you up on Yuki’s lore as a driver when you find your booking. You pull it out— 

Except it’s not your booking. It’s one of the tissues from the in-flight meal. It’s a bit crumpled and torn at the edges, but your eyes focus on something else instead. 

Handwriting. Scratchy and shaky, like the person who had been scribbling couldn’t do it properly. Maybe because they had a head on their shoulder. 

There’s a string of numbers, and then a note: 

What’s the statistical probability of me getting a text? 

-YT ⛐

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟭𝟬: 𝘆𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗼𝗱𝗮 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝗮𝗯-𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗳𝗿𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. ab-riding. pierre gasly is his own warning. no penetrative sex. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: yuki tsunoda x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: drabble. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best friend • saweetie ft. doja cat

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: this is actually the dirtiest fic, in theory yk. yuki has my heart, and i'm single handedly going to fill tumblr with my posts about him, thank you, good night.

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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

you can’t stand his smug ass smirk. he knows damn well how you feel about his thirst traps. sure, alphatauri milks any chance of plastering yuki across their social media page to fail at distracting fans from the fact that their the slowest car on the grid, and that they can’t build a car that doesn’t fall apart like legos. but, yuki, posting practically-naked (he’s only shirtless, so really you’re mildly exaggerating) pictures on his main instagram page?? he’s not george-fucking-russell, so, why the hell would he do that?

there’s only two answers to this question, and they’re both correct. one, pierre gasly—the french bastard. you can’t leave them together unsupervised. and two, to make you mad. 9which you very much are, so, yuki achieved what he wanted. he’s especially thrilled, when you shove him down onto your bed, and straddle his lap, angrily tugging his shirt off. yuki grins up at you, satisfied at where a simple shirtless picture lead him to. he should listen to pierre more often, his ex-teammate might have good ideas, however rare they are. once his shirt is off, you freeze, breathing heavily as you drink in the sight of his torso. you lean forward and start sucking marks into his pecs, biting into the meat of his chest, and tracing the definition of his abs with your tongue. yuki’s moans rumble in his chest, and he lets his eyes flutter shut and basks under the thorough claim you’re leaving on his body. at least you’re kind enough to avoid placing any marks high enough to where they could be seen from the neck of a shirt—alphatauri will just have to post pre-filmed videos they have in the vault while your hickeys fade, they’ll survive.

you erratically jerk away again, and strip your bottoms off, shoving your underwear down and tossing them behind you. you tug your shirt up until it bunches under your armpits, and you drag the cups of your bra underneath your chest, causing them to spill over the top obscenely. roughly grabbing at your boyfriend’s hands, you direct them to grasp at your boobs, and command, “keep your abs flexed.” yuki makes a noise of confusion, but you don’t elaborate any further. you lower yourself to sit on his abdomen, and grind across him slowly, testing the waters. your head falls forward from the zing of pleasure that races up your spine, and you quickly start rabbiting your hips across the dips and ridges of his muscles. 

yuki is rendered speechless at your motions. he was expecting you to ride his dick, not his abs. he’s not going to complain about this, though. you’re rubbing yourself off on his torso—your moans are bitten off and rough, and your grinds are deep and forceful to make sure your clit catches on every sharp edge of his abdomen. it’s the dirtiest thing yuki’s ever seen you do, usually he’s the one being unhinged. he squeezes at your chest rhythmically, dropping his hands to your chest eventually to watch how your breasts bounce at every shift you make—he sighs contentedly, this is heaven. 

he brings one hand to reach around you and palm himself over his shorts, but is denied the chance to do so. you hiss at him meanly, and pull his hand back to your waist, eyes flashing at him in warning. yuki falters under the commanding glint of your gaze, maybe he pushed you too far this time. he adjusts his grip on your body and takes some of the load off you, and guides your hips against his body for you—he could feel your thighs begin to tremble in exhaustion and based on how deadest you’ve become on getting yourself off on his abs, he doesn’t want to feel any additional wrath when your release slips from your grasp. 

a squeal of relief rattles through your chest at how yuki does the hard work for you. he moves your body exactly how you crave, and you find it incredibly difficult to remember why you were mad in the first place. instead of your thighs shaking in tiredness—you’re thankfully not used to being the one putting all the work in, your boyfriend’s stamina is appreciated—they begin to quiver as you get closer to cumming. your own hand comes to tug at your nipples, looking for any last flare of pleasure to push you over the edge. the wetness you’ve spread across his abs has started to lessen the friction you feel against your cunt. yuki sees the frustration furrowing your brow, and shifts his right hand down over your navel so his thumb can rub at your clit. you gasp, throwing your head back at white-hot burst of contentment behind your eyes, and all it takes is a few more furious passes of yuki’s fingers on your cunt, as the coil snaps inside your core, and waves of bliss crash over you.

yuki slips his hand away, and guides you to ride out the aftershocks on his abs. he moans at the sight of pure satisfaction on your face, and how you’ve soaked his torso, reminding him what belongs to you, with no room for vagueness. you eventually slow your roll, and fall to the side off yuki. the two of you pant as you stare at the ceiling, allowing the rapid beats of your hearts to slow.

you tilt your head to face him, and smile dopily at the sight of yuki staring at his navel. you’ve drenched him with your release, and it glistens beautifully on his tanned skin. if you were truly unhinged, you’d take a picture with your hand rubbing your wetness across his skin, and post it for everyone to see. the contrasting shades of your skin under the light of golden hour would look perfect. it would probably cost your boyfriend’s career, so maybe that’s not an equal exchange. 

hummingly faintly, you stumble off 9ithe bed, legs still shaking as you walk towards the bathroom. “you can get yourself off. you’re not fucking me for a week—“ yuki makes an alarmed noise, sputtering in disbelief, struggling to find his words, “oh, don’t get mouthy with me. i could make it so you never fuck me again—i just gave you enough material to last you for that long.” you slam the bathroom door shut, and yuki’s mouth hangs open in shock. fuck, pierre. he’s never listening to his suggestions ever again.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

© httpsserene 2023

[f1version]

B-DAY CAKE DISASTER ★ YT22

pairing: yuki tsunoda x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

summary: You and Yuki try do bake a pie for his birthday party, chaos follows, but it’s not the end of the night.

notes: IT’S INTERNATIONAL YUKI DAY (aka his birthday) i love him so have a little fic <333

yourusername’s insta story

yourusername

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly and 254,016 others

yourusername the story of how yukitsunoda0511 and I tried to make a cake for his birthday and by the second he was away I made a disaster 💀💀

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yukitsunoda0511 note to self: you won’t be on my restaurant’s opening night

yourusername i deserve it tbh #worstgirlfriend

yukitsunoda0511 NEVER. NEVER call yourself that again. i’ll bite you.

yourusername’s insta story

yukitsunoda0511’s insta story

yourusername’s insta story

yukitsunoda0511’s insta story

yourusername

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly and 175,097 others

yourusername homemade cake or not, i’ll always try my best to make you smile. happy birthday cutie, i thank your momma everyday for your birth lol <33 yukitsunoda0511

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yukitsunoda0511 i love u baby

yourusername love you too dumbass

pierregasly the store cake was very nice tho

yourusername true

pierregasly also yuki looked good

yourusername STAY🤺AWAY🤺FROM🤺MY🤺BOY🤺

[norrisradio]

the one with the baby

⚡︎ pairing: yuki tsunoda x fem!reader | ⚡︎ wc: 1.0K ⚡︎ genre: fluff, humor ⚡︎ incoming radio: based on this tiktok. oh yuki how i adore you.... and your strange dreams.... ⚡︎ summary: “I’m sorry, you what?”

“I had a dream, and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be happy or horrified.”

Yuki’s voice drags you from sleep, his words slicing through the quiet morning air like an urgent radio transmission. You stir, squinting against the sunlight filtering through the curtains, registering the warmth of him beside you before your brain can fully catch up. His hand is on your arm, fingers idly tracing patterns against your skin, but there’s a slight tension in his touch—like he’s been waiting for you to wake up, stewing in whatever bizarre thought his mind conjured overnight.

You crack an eye open. “Huh?”

“I had a dream,” he repeats, still staring at the ceiling as if it holds the answers. He sounds genuinely troubled. “About a baby.”

That wakes you up a little more. You blink at him. “A baby?”

Yuki turns his head toward you, face unreadable, his morning-stubbled jaw tight as if he’s debating whether or not to tell you. Then, with a deep sigh, he commits.

“My baby,” he clarifies. “Like, my own kid. And I—” he rubs his face, voice thick with disbelief, “I wrapped it up in a shopping bag.”

You pause. “I’m sorry, you what?”

“A shopping bag,” he repeats, like this is an entirely normal sequence of events. “But not in a bad way! I made sure it was nice and warm—like, wrapped up real snug. Not just thrown in there like a—like a head of lettuce or something.”

Your lips press together as you try—really try—not to laugh. “Yuki.”

“What?” He frowns, sensing your amusement, already on the defensive.

“You put a baby in a shopping bag.”

He groans, rolling onto his side, frustration growing. “You’re making it sound so much worse than it was! I made sure it was comfortable, okay? And then I put it on the table so I could do something—I don’t know what, it was a dream—but when I looked back, the baby was gone.”

At that, you let out a small huff of laughter, burying your face in your pillow.

“Oh, so you think this is funny?” he accuses.

“A little,” you admit, voice muffled.

Yuki huffs, flopping onto his back again, staring up at the ceiling like it personally wronged him. “It’s not funny. My baby disappeared. It was gone. Vanished.”

“Maybe it ran away,” you mumble, shifting to get more comfortable.

Yuki sits up so fast the bed dips. “Newborns don’t just get up and leave, idiot.”

You peek at him, grinning. “Maybe it knew what was coming and bailed while it had the chance.”

Yuki glares, expression torn between irritation and amusement. “You’re such an asshole.”

You stretch your arms above your head, sighing contentedly. “And yet, you woke me up just to tell me about this.”

He hesitates, as if realizing his mistake. “Well… yeah,” he admits begrudgingly. “Because it was weird.”

“It’s a dream, Yuki. Dreams are always weird.” You yawn, turning onto your side to face him properly. “One time, I dreamt I was on a road trip with a talking goldfish. You don’t see me waking you up in a panic.”

“That’s not the same,” he argues, voice insistent. “This felt real. And—” He hesitates, fingers twitching slightly like he’s trying to work through something. “It kinda freaked me out.”

Your amusement softens at that. You reach over, fingers brushing his wrist. “Because you lost the baby?”

He nods, gaze flickering downward. “Yeah. I don’t know—it was mine, and I just…” He exhales sharply, clearly annoyed at himself for even being affected by it. “I don’t like losing things that matter.”

For a moment, you say nothing. There’s something almost vulnerable about the way he says it, like he’s admitting more than he realizes. It tugs at something in your chest, a quiet warmth spreading through you.

“So,” you hum, letting your fingers trace circles against his skin, “this is you admitting that you want kids someday?”

His head snaps toward you, eyes widening slightly, as if you’ve just accused him of something scandalous. “That’s not—” He stops, flustered. “That’s not what I said.”

You smirk. “Kinda sounds like what you said.”

He groans, flopping back down and dragging a hand down his face. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“And yet,” you mimic his words from earlier, “you woke me up just to tell me about this.”

Yuki grumbles something under his breath, but there’s no real bite to it. He turns his head to the side, watching you for a beat too long, like there’s something else he wants to say but isn’t sure if he should.

Then, finally, in a voice much quieter than before—almost offhanded, like it’s not a big deal—he mutters, “Y’know, you and I would have cute babies.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift.

“Oh?”

He shrugs, still facing you, dark eyes steady. “Yeah.” A small, knowing smirk tugs at his lips. “I mean, if you don’t go stuffing them in shopping bags, I think we’d do a pretty good job.”

You burst out laughing, reaching over to shove him playfully. “You were the one who did that, you idiot!”

Yuki just grins, effortlessly catching your wrist in his hand. “Details,” he murmurs, pulling you in just enough that your noses nearly touch. “But, for real. I think we’d make some pretty damn cute kids.”

Your heart stutters, warmth blooming in your chest at the unexpected sincerity hidden beneath his teasing.

You tilt your head slightly, eyeing him. “You gonna spend the whole morning making bold statements, or are you actually gonna do something about it?”

A flicker of surprise crosses his face before he lets out a low chuckle, his grip on your wrist tightening just a fraction. “Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs, voice dipping, “or I will.”

And just like that, the dream is forgotten—replaced by something much more real.