#cannot agree and have to part ways
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im glad that the song brutus by the buttress is so popular bcuz it tickles my specific obsession w the play julius caeser
#only mandatory reading in hs i deeply enjoyed#granted it was thru the lense of seeing brutus and cassius as og horrific toxic yaoi#bcuz all of it happened due to cassius's conspiring and feeding into the already boiling resentment of the senate#i still think abt the scene where brutus and cassius post murder but pre war with alexander#cannot agree and have to part ways#but not after a long confession of love and begging the other to change his ways#its kinda nuts#did cassius love brutus? or did he want caesar out of power?#and brutus was the best fit and easiest for him to manipulate?#i do think the off screen deaths of their wives was stupid as fuck#but its shakespeare so what did we expect#skeletal chatter#i need to reread it... i have a copy
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thinking about if tos mccoy had died before romulus was destroyed, tos spock could've been carrying his not-quite-a-katra during the events of the aos movies
#spones#star trek#leonard mccoy#spock#star trek tos#if you went mcspirk you could ignore generations and say he's carrying kirk's not-a-katra in his head too lmao but this is foremost spones#god can you imagine mccoy's commentary seeing baby aos jim?????#i bet this has been done a hundred times before but i'm not gonna get it out of my head now#mccoy finally having death catch up to him squinting up at spock's face: surely you can't be serious#spock; looking down at this human that he has long admitted to himself at least that he cannot bear to part from: don't call me shirley#mccoy; scowling: god i hate you#spock; eyes shining: do you hate me enough to spend the rest of my life bickering with me in my head doctor?#mccoy; his own eyes shining back: someone's gotta keep you off the straight and narrow#spock: i knew you'd see things my way - i am after all usually correct - wouldn't you agree?#mccoy: i cannot believe i'm in love with you. truly the tragedy of our time. anyway come on get inside me so i can get inside you#spock; contemplative: we shall have to see if - in our shared mental space - we would be able to properly consummate -#mccoy; flushing but smirking: you really did spend too much time with humans didn't ya#spock: perhaps - and yet i believe it would not be enough time if you had not agreed to this doctor#mccoy: yeah yeah til your death do us part. i love you too you big softie#spock; softly: and i you
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Apropos of nothing I think it would be funny if Cass and Cassie had beef and no one really knew about it.
Like they have the same name, there's a fair bit of overlap in their circles, and Cass and Kon went out on a date once, so I think it would be funny if they just didn't like each other and just had this quiet petty beef going on behind everyone's backs.
Cass: I dated your boyfriend before you did
Cassie: yeah well I made out with your brother
Cass: maybe I'll fuck your mom next
Cassie: Fuck you maybe I'll fuck YOUR mom!
Cass: DO IT, COWARD
Cassie: BAT-BITCH
and then they get into a fight in a Denny's parking lot at three in the morning and can't tell anyone the real reason they're so beat up afterwards
#cassie sandsmark#cassandra cain#is Cassie talking about Shiva or Barbara as Cass's mom#who knows#I feel like one person should know it's going on#but they've agreed not to tell anyone so they're just watching it unfold with the most tired expression#I'm not sure if it would be funnier if it was Anita or Cissie or one of the Bats#it can't be Tim because he would try to stop it#so it might be Dick#since he was leader of the Titans and is part of the Bats#he's just watching these two teenagers punch each other in the tit for the stupidest fucking reasons#and usually these two are pretty level-headed and DON'T get riled up by petty bullshit#but for whatever reason when it comes to each other they just cannot#and on the one hand they're teenagers and it's (mostly) harmless and good enrichment#but on the other hand just... why#if it's Cissie she's tired in a similar way Dick would be#like she's standing there in her civilian clothes watching Wonder Girl and Black Bat have a punch-up like#'it is too fucking cold and too fucking late at night for this bullshit'#if it's Anita she makes popcorn and kicks back and watches them fight
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Thinking about jason my friend jason I fucking love this guy he is just completely unstoppable when he decides to be my guy knows what he wants to do and he does it. Respect.
#gamer txt.#my guy has a kill count well into the hundreds#past even 150 i think#that fucking rocks#part 2 to 4 all take place within like a week jasey boy just does not stop if there is a person in his vicinity they are dying#part 6 again he just kills everyone he can in his vicinity the second he wakes up. respect#part 7 it has been like 7 years but hes up and at it again fuck those kids#part 8 i think its only been a year this time fuck those kids#part 9 isss 5 uears later i think i think? jason is on a mission this time to specifically a female family member of his#but this does not stop him from killing everyone else in his general vicinity. fuck em#freddy vs jason happens like a few months later my man does not even spend a full year in hell hes too cool for that#he goes to springwood and fucks up those kids and then freddy#jason x they have a whole facility to contain him and he still manages to kill 6 people in there fuck yes#and then he kills almost 20 more on a spaceship 500 years in the future whilst having no clue whats happening but he doesnt need to.#there are people in his general vicinity. he is going to kill them. respect#i know people will say freddy is more dangerous and i agree in some aspects he absolutely is#but he will never and can never be just as fucking scary and unstoppable as jason is#freddy schemes and plans to kill this group of people like every year or so he can add to this group if need be and they end up killing him#hes a concept so it doesnt work but it does still take him about a year to get back to it#and hes going for specific people#if freddy holds no particular grudges and isnt bored he doesn't kill and if the only people who know about him are on hypnocil he Cant kill#jason ways finds some way to come back and then he just fucking goes#he goes after specific people sometimes yeah and he can get a bit tunnel vision about it but he also just fucking goes#theres nothing you can do to stop this man from killing everyone he can get his hands on#you can try. and it might delay the inevitable for a few years but the second hes up and he will be back up hes back at it#i cannot even begin to detail fully how much of a legend jason is#i love freddy too bjt for very different reasons i love his pettiness and open sadistic glee at killing people#but jason is just like a force of nature at this point he is dedicated he knows what hes doing and he has fun with it#fucking love this guy
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tonight I go to bed grateful not to be in my bnha phase right now
#pickle pontificates#oh boy. i see stuff starting to blow up over there right now#i have many feelings and thoughts about that series and the amount of good it did for me cannot be underestimated#but i was starting to get a bit frustrated with it around when the war arc started#and i sort of fizzled out in interest#and i stopped keeping up with the manga around the traitor reveal i think#it's bittersweet because on the one hand i cannot say enough about the good it did me#it influenced my real life and studies and hobbies in kind of a big way#but on the other hand i don't feel great about the direction it went#and I'm glad I didn't have to be disillusioned while i was in the middle of fangirling and fixating and whatever else#I'd also rather not be involved in whatever discourse I keep catching whiffs of#seeing that was always the most exhausting part of trying to scavenge the fandom and i am too tired for that#yeah. i guess I'm just glad i got to spend time with it when i did and also that I'm doing other stuff now#watch me talk about media like it's my ex rofl#not entirely wrong though... pretty sure I have seriously and directly compared reading dungeon meshi to falling in love on here#and that's been the case with other things. i fall fast and i fall hard and then we have a passionate affair for a few months to a year#and then we amicably agree to be friends with benefits forever and I move on to the next one#(at least with stuff I really like)#bnha is more of an ex that I had a great time with who taught me a lot but I'm kinda only stalking them on social media once in a while#and they're sorta expressing some mildly concerning political opinions that I probably should've seen coming#but they really weren't that much of a problem back then so it's not like i could've really done anything about it#(this is totally different from the way i do relationships irl which is that i don't and haven't ever)
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Ah yes, Magnificent Century, or as I like to call it – “Why the fuck are the most likely Ukrainian girl and the Crimean Tatar woman speaking Russian to each other, what were the writers smoking???”
#BEFORE ANYBODY COMES AT ME#DO NOT use this post to debate hürrem’s nationality. please#most people agree she was from an area which is modern day ukraine. can we please leave it at that#also yes they were speaking Russian in that scene. not Ukrainian like I’ve seen some people say#trust me I know and can tell the difference between the two. it’s Russian#okay? okay#now that that’s out of the way#what is this. the 1500s or the Soviet Union??#for the record at this point in the show timeline there’s still another 32 years until Ivan the terrible conquers Kazan#a.k.a the Tatar capital#and ukraine was not a part of Russia at that point either#though I cannot tell you exactly who it belonged to bc I erased most of what I learned in history after my exam#but the point is#there is a very. very small chance that both of the would have known Russian#especially fluently#I feel like I’m swinging at a wasp’s nest by making this post so again#please don’t start any discourse#I am just trying to make a joke about the Taylan brothers failing both history and geography#alright?#okay good#Nia rewatches MC#magnificent century#muhteşem yüzyıl#hürrem sultan#valide sultan
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Oh god the new cotl trailer is dragging me right back in... Damn you goat why must you relight my interest in this game so
#rat rambles#Im still pissy abt the balance changes they made last update but Im starting to be more willing to play again#hopefully theyll rebalance fragile relics as a whole in the next update they need them so bad#cannot emphasize enough that the dice went from one of the best relics to literally the actual worst ones by becomibg fragile#which they needed nerfed I agree with that I just hate how lazy the nerf was and how they might as well have been deleted from the game#all the last balance patches did is make the game less fun imo which is why I dropped the game so hard#but my interest is being relit and Im hoping they learn better this time#anyways look away Im going to be cringe and have hcs for a second#so yeah I've secretly had a bunch of cotl hcs this whole time and the goat fits quite nicely into them actually#I dont actually hc them as from another universe and more from another plain of existence#mostly the plain we only get glimses of being the sea where the dead lie#the goat is basically a god of this sea and in particular I imagine them as smth of a god of souls#the reason their crowns are so similar is two fold with part of it just being that they work with similar domains and most of it being that#the beings that created these crowns were sibling gods who embodied the gateways of death#in my hcs the crowns do often lead their hosts in certain directions in their own unique ways so the goat was likely lead by their crown#the main thing that seperated them before was life and death but the lamb has done a great job at breaking those boundaries#anyways now the lamb and goat can be bad people together <3#the lamb is sitting here with their internal reasonings and sense of self righteous and the goat is just here to have fun#anyways back to not talking abt cotl hcs these guys are not my blorbos I just like worldbuilding
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had a moment at work today where this middle aged dad guy asked me my opinion on barbie (i was wearing a barbie shirt) and when i said i liked it but my life wasnt changed by it, he and his son started talking about how people were walking out of the theater crying and stuff and the hairs on my arms stood on end and i got the very acute sense that he mistook what i said to mean that i wasnt into all the feminist stuff (probably his and his son’s opinion) whereas what i actually meant was that it was too surface level feminist for my tastes and i wish it went deeper
#i live in a very red part of the midwest#i mean i live in a college town so its a blue dot here#but we get our fair share of rednecks#and i could smell it off this guy#anyways point is i liked barbie but i also go to a liberal arts college so it is far from the first time ive had this conversation#im sure greta gerwig did what she could and its really good for just introducing people to feminist concepts#its just that barbie was a very big part of my childhood and i knew from the start (unlike some people apparently???) that#the movie would be very feminist#so it didn't hit me the same way it did a lot of people#which is why it feels weird having people who are obviously at least a little conservative leaning ask about my barbie opinions at work#i really just cannot get into it bro but i am NOT agreeing with you#cloudy rambles
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Hostages tortured to death. Parents executed in front of their children. Doctors beaten. Babies murdered. Sexual assault weaponised. No, not Hamas crimes. This is part of an ever-growing list of documented atrocities committed by Israel in the five months since 7 October – quite separate from the carpet bombing of 2.3 million Palestinians in Gaza and a famine induced by Israel’s obstruction of aid. And yet while the western establishment media has been chock full of the most lurid allegations of savagery directed against Hamas, sometimes with little or no supporting evidence, Israeli atrocities are excused or quickly forgotten. Accusations against Hamas are endlessly reheated to paint a picture of a supremely dangerous and bestial militant group, in turn rationalising the slaughter and starvation of Gaza’s population to “eradicate” it as a terrorist organisation. But equally barbarous atrocities committed by Israel – not in the heat of battle, but in cold blood – are treated as unfortunate, isolated incidents that cannot be connected, that paint no picture, that reveal nothing of import about the military that carried them out. If Hamas’ crimes were so savage and sadistic they still need to be reported months after they took place, why does the establishment media never feel the need to express equal horror and indignation at equivalent or worse acts of cruelty and sadism being inflicted by Israel on Gaza – not five months ago, but right now? Israel's torture of doctors, its sexual assaults of Palestinian women, it's leaving premature babies to die after its forces stormed a hospital. Where is the outrage? This is part of a pattern of behaviour by the western media that leads to only one possible deduction: Israel’s five-month-long attack on Gaza is not being reported. Rather, it is being selectively narrated – and for the most obscene of purposes. Through consistent and glaring failures in their coverage, establishment media – including supposedly liberal outlets, from the BBC and CNN to the Guardian and New York Times – have smoothed the way for Israel to carry out mass slaughter in Gaza, what the World Court has assessed as plausibly a genocide. The role of the media has not been to keep us, their audiences, informed about one of the greatest crimes in living memory. It has been to buy time for US President Joe Biden to keep arming his most useful of client states in the oil-rich Middle East, and to do so without damaging his prospects for re-election in November’s US presidential vote. If Russian President Vladimir Putin was a madman and a barbarous war criminal for invading Ukraine, as every western media outlet agrees, what does that make Israeli officials, when every one of them supports far worse atrocities in Gaza, directed overwhelmingly at civilians? And more to the point, what does that make Biden and the US political class for materially backing Israel to the hilt: sending bombs, vetoing demands for a ceasefire at the United Nations, and freezing desperately needed aid? Worrying about the optics, the president expresses his discomfort, but he carries on helping Israel regardless. While western politicians and commentators worry about some imaginary existential threat those brief events of five months ago pose to the nuclear-armed state of Israel, Israel is quite literally wiping Gaza off the map day by day, quite undisturbed.
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i. there's this video of a guy dancing on his tiptoes. i will begrudgingly admit the song is kind of catchy actually. i don't think it's the worst song i've ever heard. he seems passionate about it. but it is embarrassing, how he's dancing.
ii. you know where this story is going, unfortunately, and so do i.
iii. three weeks ago i had to drag half a dead rabbit out of my dog's mouth. i was just recently discussing how cruel things feel lately. that the way the world is shifting feels mean. three days ago, a random woman rolled down her window to snap at me because she missed her turn. this is now routine.
iv. 11 years ago in october, i made a post about how we shouldn't make fun of people for doing brave, vulnerable things. it has over 400k notes. people - at the time - seemed to generally agree with me. we have all felt shy and insecure when we share an intimate part of ourselves. we have heard someone at a concert say "that's fucking embarrassing" and said to ourselves - oh, this person is unsafe to be vulnerable in front of. we have said i can't act like that in public. we have left our art and passion in the dark. i think there will never be enough graveyard space for the art we have killed because what if others shame me for it.
v. the thing i was bullied for in high school was because i was a "predatory lesbian." a popular girl i'd literally never spoken to just decided she didn't like me and announced i was "stalking" her. to this day i have no idea what motivated this - i think i was just shy and poor and awkward and ugly. the perfect target. what they don't really ever show in movies is how quickly it moves, how suddenly strange people in the hallways are attacking you about it. they also don't show you that the bullies get this strange ... glee out of it. like, it's fun for them. it's enrichment. everyone else is in on the joke. suck it up, kid.
vi. so far, from what i have seen, creators that stand up for the musician all seem to have the same story: when i asked why we're bullying a random guy, people actually got mad that i asked. i've had similar things happen to me when i ask for us to be less comfortable with our anonymous cruelty. when an internet stranger says "be kind, it saves lives" - people find it funny to say fuck you i hope everyone kills themselves. pages and pages of people saying the same bullshit. sitting in their little caves, eating their own humor. it's just genuinely exhausting. the natural endpoint of "cringe culture" is that even kindness is cringe-worthy.
vii. loneliness is an epidemic. but where are you going to make your community? call your representative. go back to bed about it.
viii. due to how i was raised, i am always confused by cruelty. i understand the american isolationist belief "i can do whatever i want" - sure. but why wouldn't you want to be kind? i have lived too many bad things. i cannot be the epicenter of someone else's bad dream.
ix. it's just that if we were going to bully someone relentlessly, why is it never the healthcare CEOs. why isn't it the fascists. why isn't it, like, someone who you could at least argue "deserves" it. why is it always just some guy in socks singing a pretty mid song? or a person that doesn't look like you, just, like existing.
x. it's just that i think people enjoy doing it. they want to do it because they get some kind of masturbatory release from it - like a shrug or a splinter, they all seem to say the same thing - come on, it's funny.
xi. the world is sometimes beautiful, and sometimes you make something. the world is sometimes terrible, and you are worried they won't accept what your hands can wring. you open the instagram comments and they're still saying all sorts of shit to just - like - a normal guy. and some part of you thinks: if that was me. good lord. if that was me i'd -
xii. somewhere there is a graveyard. someone is already burying their hopes and dreams.
#spilled ink#warm up#like as far as i can tell he's just a guy?#he doesn't seem like. bad.#it's cringe so whaaatttttttt#5 years ago we were all like. cringe is dead!!! :) .... okay unless u personally get joy from bullying someone#i guess#this doesn't quite say what i want it to#and i felt like it was already too long to tack on the OTHER stuff i ALSO write a lot about - which is like#if this dude is getting bullied. um how u think it's like in minority populations .
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sports car
pairing: lando norris x piastri!reader
summary: the one where lando gets outed for having a crush on his teammate's little sister.
a/n: bro it's been stuck in my head for a solid week now
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yourinstagram my vogue beauty secrets tutorial is out 🪽 all products used are linked below! thank you so much for this opportunity, was insane to me when i was informed of it and still very much is!
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user1 not fair. why is everyone on insta a freaking model
user2 where's the gold necklace from? thanks queen love you <3
yourinstagram it's from brandname brandname 😉 y/n piastri repping our gear? this calls for a c...o...l...l...a........
user3 drop the skincare routine too
user4 y/n are you ever going to a grand prix?
user5 she was at oscar's f1 debut user4 yeah but never again user4 she shouldn't be too busy as a part-time influencer like
vogue we're so glad you agreed 🤍
yourinstagram kisses!
user6 my gf (real)
user7 wait. wait. why is a vogue beauty secrets video title the way i find out y/n is a formula 1 driver's sister?
user8 well tbf she doesn't usually use her full name, probably not to seem like she's mooching off his success yk user9 no girl you're good i realized that a month ago when someone posted an edit of her and tagged it with her full name
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yourinstagram best brother 🧡 yay points
tagged: oscarpiastri
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user1 she took the comments about her not showing up to his races personally
user2 wait. y/n is his sister?? user3 oscar you thought you ate
user4 forget f1 drivers i want THIS GIRL
user5 hope you had fun !! thank you for taking a photo with me and my friends liked by yourinstagram
yourinstagram i did and i hope you did too 🫶 no worries, you both were v polite and absolutely stunning user6 she's so sweet aww
oscarpiastri I think this is your first post without any selfies. Congrats.
yourinstagram are we not partially the same people yourinstagram i thought you were smart? oscarpiastri I don't think that's how it works.
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lando on the move
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user1 i was not familiar with your game
user2 lando whoreizz more like? dang.
user3 I AM GOING FERAL NO ONE CAN HOLD ME BACK
user4 wait guys y/n piastri liked this 😭
user5 i pray the next time i accidentally make an idiot of myself on live stream my crush will notice me too user6 lmaooo help
user7 who are you posing for? y/n?
oscarpiastri Attention whore yourinstagram the girls are fighting!! user8 this cannot be real. polite piastri just called his teammate an attention whore user9 y/n u are so real for that
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fentybeauty Y/N Piastri is the new face of Fenty Beauty. @/yourinstagram
tagged: yourinstagram
user1 i just want to be a nepo baby.
user2 well y/n isn't really a nepo baby user3 nepo sister? user4 most of her image is built around her as js herself i think it's only recently (after her appearance at a gp) that people realized she was oscar piastri's sister cause they don't look alike and she usually only goes by y/n
user5 STUNNERRR
user6 am allowing myself to be influenced
user7 be so fr right now what is lando doing in the likes
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lando austin, tx
tagged: oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell
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user1 oscar? in a cowboy hat? oh i folded my ovaries exploded i swore i was wearing clothes
lando i think you've got a fan, mate @/oscarpiastri oscarpiastri That's very kind of you
user2 the only time america serves
user3 is when a fucking brit comes over user4 live laugh love lando
user5 good luck at COTAS!! papaya army will be cheering for you *liked by lando
user6 soooo lando have you shot your shot yet?
user7 pardon? user6 i mean has he officially tried to hit on y/n yet user7 no way. she's too nonchalant to date him. piastri siblings do be the coolest crushes fr
mclaren see you, sheriff
lando this town ain't big enough for us two
user8 love to see oscar hanging out w landos friend group
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yourinstagram you taste like the 4th of july
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user1 Y/NNN ARE YOU GOING TO COTAS??
user2 she must be i don't think she's ever been to the us before user3 queen y/n in mclaren paddock i'm calling it
user4 hold up am i reaching but lando posted burger joint milkshakes and she posted a burger joint and
user5 i really hate to break your bubble but there's literally no evidence to suggest they were at the SAME burger joints user6 its america its all fast food.
user7 so stunningg
oscarpiastri So you ignore your debts and post instagrams
yourinstagram what debt 😭 i paid for your concert tickets no?? oscarpiastri I paid for my concert tickets yourinstagram well we paid for each other's concert tickets yourinstagram you're jokign right do you hate me that much oscarpiastri I just wanted you to respond to me yourinstagram okay 😔 sorry brotha
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yourinstagram came to support the fam
tagged: mclaren, oscarpiastri, lando
mclaren we are so glad you did 🧡
yourinstagram the teddy is so cute i'll sleep with it every night! tysm for the wonderful welcome user1 aww
oscarpiastri I'm emotional now. Get me a tissue, please. I can't believe my sister cares about me.
yourinstagram the combination of perfect punctuation and capitalization really hit the mark. user2 he's so silly user3 oscar bfr you're glad she's finally started coming to ur races often
lando am i the fam
yourinstagram gosh i hope we're not related that would make it weird user4 well you guys are pretty close to alabama liked by yourinstagram user4 HELP??
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lando soon.
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user1 ? soon ? as in ? coming soon ?
user2 bro if he looked at me like that
user3 oscar can you explain your boyfriend's cryptic captions
yourinstagram soon.
user4 HELLO? user5 did she just acknowledge his existence user6 tf you mean soon girl lando soon. yourinstagram soon. lando soon. user7 they need help oscarpiastri You see what I have to put up with every day of my life?
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yourinstagram i think you know what this is
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user1 y/n and tate?
user2 the crossover we never knew we needed
user3 WAITTT YK HOW TATE HAS HER NEW MV AND SHE'S TEASING A MCLAREN DRIVER WHAT IF OSCAR OR LANDO'S DATING HER??
user4 i like the way your mind works user5 that's so awkward for her lol if it's oscar "cool you're shagging my brother" user6 or maybe it's lando probably? because he posted soon on his instagram user7 but doesn't lando have a crush on y/n? or is it not confirmed user8 girl idk
user9 baddieeees
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yourinstagram SPORTS CAR.
everybody say THANK YOU TATIANA ♡ seriously, what did i deserve to get to know her? she has put out a killer album, danced her ass off in stilettos, and did so during a non-stop tour. now she's starting another one. respect, a whole cartload of it.
but a little recap: obviously, tate wanted a driver in her music video about a SPORTS CAR. lando's team was up for it. tate (being respectful, she literally had no reason to do this whatsoever except for that fact that she's an amazing person and so very considerate) asked me to film it with lando instead. for "chemistry' and blah but again, THANK YOU TATIANA we say in unison.
hope you enjoy the music video and the song!
tagged: lando, tatemcrae
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tatemcrae there was no need to write a whole paragraph but i appreciate your recognition ♥️ considering an acting career anytime? love you loads
yourinstagram while the answer is yes, unfortunately i don't think anyone else will be considering it for me 🤪 tatemcrae also you fine asf yourinstagram u too bae rahhh user1 i love them sm
user2 that's so nice of her
user3 like i'm sure y/n would've been fine with her but giving up an MV for an actor's gf is crazy user4 i mean...it paid off. the chemistry is INSANE user5 need a man to hold me how lando holds y/n
user6 oscar jack piastri, how are you holding up?
oscarpiastri Have been avoiding the video. Have not been entirely successful. user7 LMAO poor boy lando sorry mate oscarpiastri You're not sorry in the slightest yourinstagram just close your eyes
lando thank you tatiana for orchestrating a music video for me and my girlfriend you're the goat
tatemcrae i think you're just glad you got to hard launch her this way, but you're welcome user8 y/n never called him her boyfriend BUT GUYS THiS iS CONFIRMATION THEY ARE DATING lando yes i'm her boyfriend she's my girlfriend. in case the making out and monkey business did not make that clear! user9 "monkey business" i cant anymore with him ✋
lando @/yourinstagram mommy? sorry-mommy? sorry-
yourinstagram shameless, i tell you. shameless. do it again.
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a/n: WE CAN UH-UH IN IT
#lando norris x reader#formula one x reader#formula one#f1 x reader#f1#f1 smau#lando norris#oscar piastri#mclaren#oikarma ᯓᡣ𐭩
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♡ rafe accidentally puts barry on speaker..
warnings: enemies to ???, bitchy!kook!reader might make some of you frustrated but please just trust the process loll, teasing, flirty banter, majorrrr sexual tension, slight angst, mentions of absent parents/abandonment, arguing
a/n: this is part four of this mini series <3 i cannot believe i’m writing one more part to this before it’s over. thank you to everyone who continue to show their love and support, it truly means so much to me!!
links: previous | next | mini series masterlist
wc: 3.0k
“you’re going over to rafe’s and you didn’t even tell me?!” chanel shot up from her spot on your bed while you ran around your room trying to put an outfit together. “i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay?! all he said was that we got off on the wrong foot and he wants to start over. that’s it.” chanel arched a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “he sooo wants to fuck you, please tell me you’re not playing coy just to give him the benefit of the doubt.” you stayed silent, avoiding her gaze.
“y/n—”
“nothing is gonna happen between us. you and topper are dating now, so it would only be fair if me and rafe could at least try to get along since we’ll be around each other a lot more.” your best friend scoffed, not buying a single word that was coming out of your mouth. “don’t use me and topper as your excuse for giving rafe a chance, just say you’re interested in him! it’s totally fine if you are..” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you scanned your closet for a pair of heeled boots. “wow, chanel. i’m honestly offended that you think i’d ever give rafe a real shot.”
slipping on your shoes, you cursed under your breath as chanel watched you struggle with the zipper. “well, excuse me,” she strutted off, plopping down on your bed once again, “i just thought since you were totally eye fucking him out on the golf course the other day that you’d at least have agreed because there was some kind of attraction there.” you huffed. of course she’d bring that up. “i may have called him every single name in the book, but i never said he wasn’t handsome, alright? anyone with eyes would tell you the same thing.” you rolled your eyes once you heard her cackle. “whateverrr!”
one hour and three outfit changes later, and you found yourself posing for chanel’s camera as she snapped pictures of you in your sexy getup. “it should be a crime that you look this hot and you’re just going to rafe’s house. like he seriously needs to take you to the mainland and show you off or something.” you were quick to grab your purse and make your way downstairs once you saw that you were already running thirty minutes late. “will you be here when i get back?” you asked her, spritzing some perfume in the curve of your neck. “uhh, duh! i’m gonna need all the dirty details..”
you took that as your cue to leave. “not happening!” you called out, making your way down to the car out front. chanel waited until you got in before stepping back inside. the drive wasn’t long, considering rafe only lived about eight minutes away from you. it wasn’t until you were standing in front of rafe’s door that you realized you probably should’ve asked for his number back when you two talked at the country club. oh, god. you two haven’t even had any kind of communication since then.
what if he wasn’t home?
..or worse; what if he completely forgot about the whole thing and you were standing out here like a total idiot?
“this is stupid..” you whispered, looking back to see if your car was still there. before you could overthink, you stepped back once you heard the door unlock, the hardwood opening up to reveal rafe in a collared shirt that made his biceps look like they were going to burst through the fabric. “i thought you stood me up there for a minute.” he moved aside, motioning for you to come in before shutting the door behind you. “i almost did..” rafe snorted at your words, shaking his head before taking the view of you in.
“you look— wow..” you watched as his eyes raked down your figure, his jaw ticking once he saw how revealing your dress was. “you like it?” you turned around, looking back at him through your lashes. swallowing thickly, rafe didn’t say a word as he lead you two over to the living room with his hand resting in the small of your back. “for someone who swore they weren’t trying to sleep with me, the candles aren’t really convincing..” you looked around his set up, the living room being illuminated by the soft flickers of candle flames along with a bottle of wine and two glasses that sat in the middle of the coffee table.
“oh, so you’re saying i have a chance?” rafe sat you down, wasting no time in pouring you both a drink. crossing one leg over the other, you let your dress ride up your thighs before humming. “mmm, no.” rafe sighed, handing you a glass before settling in next to you. “we’ll see about that.” you ignored the way your stomach flipped once rafe draped an arm across your shoulders, your cheeks heating at how close he was. taking a sip from your glass, you glanced at him briefly before relaxing in his hold.
silence fell over you two and you swore rafe could hear your heart beating out of your chest. “am i tripping, or are you nervous right now?” you laughed, the sound making you inwardly cringe. “you wish, ‘cameron.” rafe smiled at your obvious facade. he could see right through you. “it’s kinda hard to tell,” he lied, “i mean— you show up to my place looking like this, i’d assume the last thing you could feel right now is nervous.” his mouth was right next to your ear, the bass of his voice making you squirm in your seat.
“that’s your problem,” you breathed out shakily, “you’re always just assuming things.” rafe tongued his cheek, his gaze flickering down to your lips. “speaking of that..” he trailed off, “i know i already apologized to you last time we talked, but i want you to know that i truly do regret speaking about you in a negative light.” you knew he was being sincere by the way he was looking at you. “it’s fine,” you waved him off, “it wouldn’t be the first time someone called me a bitch. ‘spoiled little brat’ isn’t a new one either, i just wish people understood that even that title comes with a cost.” rafe’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion.
“what do you mean by that?” the last time this same exact topic came up, you shut down and put your defenses back up once you realized the conversation was veering towards your relationship, or lack there of, with your parents. you were so tired of being misunderstood, you decided that you’d just let rafe know about the very things you became accustomed to hiding. “i’m still paying for everything that i have and everything that i continue to buy, just not in the way that you might think..”
“how then?” you closed your eyes for a moment. there was no coming back from this. “my parents just give me everything because they feel guilty— guilty for not being there.. like ever.” you laughed incredulously. “not there?” rafe repeated, “your parents have their own column in kildare���s newspaper, they have to be here.” you shook your head, taking another drink from the wine in your glass. “no, they don’t.. i haven’t seen or heard from them in eight months.” rafe’s eyes widened. “what? well where the hell are they?!” he spoke up.
“it’s ironic. they actually bought another house on the mainland and didn’t tell me shit about it. i found out a while back when i opened the congratulatory letter from their realtor. ‘guess they haven’t had a chance to change their postal address yet.” rafe took a minute to put your words together, his arm leaving your shoulders so he could rub his temples. “so let me get this straight,” he started, “you’ve been all by yourself in that empty house of yours for months now, and in order for your parents to ‘make up’ lost time, they just give you money so that they don’t feel bad for essentially abandoning their daughter?” you winced as soon as you heard it.
you hadn’t come to terms with the ‘a’ word just yet, though it’s been lingering in the back of your mind since you were a little girl. “i don’t know about ‘abandoning’ per say, they still support me..” your voice cracked and you hated it. the sound drew rafe’s attention immediately. “uh, yeah— with money. but what else?” he scoffed. “what else could i possibly need? in their minds; i have it all. which i kind of do, but it all means nothing at the end of the day when i have a dining table that can sit twenty people and i’m the only one sitting at it.” your last sentence hit particularly close to home for rafe, especially since he has spent countless evenings eating dinner by himself at his own oversized table.
he could see the hurt written all over your face. you two weren’t so different after all. “i’m sorry.” rafe’s voice barely came out above a whisper, his hand finding your knee as you shook your head. “don’t be. i’ve stopped the pity party a long time ago,” you cleared your throat, “please say something about you now because i don’t think i could handle being the only one in the hot seat.” rafe’s mind started reeling as he was unsure of what to say.
“uhm, well— since we’re on the topic of fucked up parents..”
for the next hour and a half, rafe gave you the full rundown of him and his dad’s relationship, not leaving out a single detail as you listened to him intently. “as much as i wanted to make my dad proud of me, everything i did was never enough for him. i was a fuck up for a long time but i stepped up when he couldn’t and he never recognized that.” you and rafe had long since forgotten about your wine glasses, and were now taking turns drinking from the actual bottle itself. “if he hated me then, he would hate me even more now.” he sighed, leaning all the way back into the cushions of the sofa.
you blinked once you saw him manspread, the alcohol taking its effect as it ran through your system. “why?” your voice came out higher than usual, the sound being a dead giveaway that you were now officially tipsy. “because.. i don’t have my family together the way he would’ve wanted. rose, my dad’s wife, took my little sister to an undisclosed location and deactivated her phone so it’s impossible for me to have direct communication with her, and sarah ran off without telling me any details, so she could be pretty much anywhere, and yeah, that sums everything up.”
you stared at the side of rafe’s face, his features being highlighted by the soft light flickering in the room. in your current position you could feel rafe’s chest rise and fall with each breath, the warmth of his body against your own making you feel fuzzy inside. rafe had his hand resting comfortably on the side of your thigh, your legs draped across his lap as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “it sounds like we’re just lonely people.” you whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. oddly enough, rafe didn’t expect you to make him feel this comfortable so fast.
while he was sure it was the alcohol that made you lighten up and actually cling to him, he realized quickly that he liked feeling you close. “you know.. i could surround myself with all of my friends, go to parties where the living room is filled to the fucking brim, and yet, right now is the first time i can genuinely say that i don’t feel alone with you right here next to me.” your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. you didn’t realize just how bad you needed to be understood by someone until now.
you don’t know when, but you found yourself leaning into him, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled you towards his lips. you couldn’t believe this was happening, sober or not, you’ve known all along that the bickering and fighting was building up just for this very moment.
..and then his phone rang.
you were less than an inch away from each other, both of you freezing right before your lips could meet. “fuck.” he pulled away, making you purse your lips together as he took the device out of his pocket. following his line of vision, you looked down at the contact name. barry. your eyebrows knitted in confusion. who the hell could that be, and why did they have to call right this second? “shit, i gotta take this,” he cursed under his breath, “i’ll be right back. promise.” you smiled softly, giving him a small nod.
it’s fine, you needed to reapply your lipgloss anyways.
out of habit, rafe put his old friend on speaker, the volume loud enough for you to hear the unfamiliar voice from the kitchen. “what.” rafe sounded irritated once he spoke into the receiver.
“country club!” you felt your heart drop at the name, “where the fuck have you been? you’re too ‘rich boy’ to swing by and drink a beer on the cut?” your stomach twisted as you felt your blood run cold.
country club. the cut. your past conversations with your so called ‘mystery’ man ran through your head, everything that you once suspected now coming to fruition. oh, god, how could you have missed all of the signs? the night you two both went on a date.. the same date where you sent him nudes in the bathroom of his own boat. his little ‘cute skirt.’ comment after you texted him saying that you were wearing one in hopes for him to find you somewhere. suddenly you felt like the room was getting smaller, your sanity hanging on by a single thread.
no, you had to be overthinking this. surely, rafe couldn’t be your guy. if he was, that means he has known who you are behind the screen for who knows how long? just as you stood up, rafe came back into the living room. “sorry about that, it was nothing—” you cut him off, “country club?” he froze. it wasn’t until he saw the mortified look on your face that he realized he made the grave mistake of putting barry’s call on speaker. eyeing the front door behind him, rafe lunged for you the second you tried to leave the living room.
“y/n—” he grabbed your shoulders, your eyes watering out of embarrassment. “you can’t be him.” you shook your head as he backed you up into the wall. “i am, though,” he took ahold of your wrists so you could stop thrashing against him, “i am him.” you felt a shiver run down your spine at the confirmation. “and you’re you. you’re mine.” you scoffed, turning your head away from his view. “let go of me.” rafe didn’t budge, your frustration only growing.
“i found out you were my girl after our date on the druthers. the same necklace, the nails.. the things you’ve said to me in person being repeated over the phone. i knew it was you.” you whimpered, still trying to get out of his grip. “i’m not your girl, don’t call me that.” rafe smiled, his broad build towering over you with ease. “you don’t have to be embarrassed about anything. in case you forgot, we both did some things.”
“shut the fuck up.” you finally managed to push him away, your hands flying to pull the hem of your dress down. “why would you go on without telling me anything, don’t you realize how fucking stupid i must feel right now?!” you cried out. “i wanted you to find out once you felt ready to, okay?! what happened right now was a mistake on my part, i’m sorry!”
“there’s no ‘me and you’, i’m not yours, and you aren’t mine. this should’ve never happened.” rafe hated how those words sounded coming out of your mouth. “the switch up is crazy.” he laughed, shaking his head. “just five minutes ago you were ready to kiss me, and right before that we spent nearly two hours discussing our differences and being vulnerable with each other. now what?” you let out a breath. “we would never work. let’s just leave it at that—” rafe was already disagreeing with you before you could finish your sentence.
“i won’t just ‘leave’ it. i can’t.” he stepped closer. “you’re saying we’ll never work, but you won’t even try.” rafe scoffed, “who’s stopping us? is this like an ego thing? say the word and i’ll set you straight right now.” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your body reacted to his words. “you really sat there in my face and acted clueless..” you glared at him, “you know things about me that no one else— not even my best friend, knows about,” you whispered, “this is too much for me right now.”
sniffling, you felt relief wash over you once you heard a honk outside. “don’t leave,” rafe pulled you from walking to the front door, “please, we could figure something out.” without another word, you left, rafe’s voice calling out to you with each step you got closer to the car. you were able to compose yourself before you got home, thankful that chanel was knocked out cold so you wouldn’t have to recap the shitty night you just had.
taking your phone out of your purse, you were met with multiple messages from rafe himself.
[11:44 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m not letting you run away from this.
[11:45 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : we see each other everyday y/n, we’re gonna have to talk this out at some point.
[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m sorry.
[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : you have every reason to be mad at me, i could understand that.
[11:48 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : look. i have to go on the mainland for some business stuff but i’ll be staying at the ‘paradise’ hotel for the next week. i’ll be there any time after eight, i’ll text you my room details when i get checked in. please just come see me.

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White Horse - Chapter 34: October 2024 - Part 1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.
She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.
But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.
Warnings and Notes:
we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, mention of the loss of a parent.
As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

It started with Max googling “how to swaddle a newborn.”
Which led to YouTube.
Which led to a deep dive into baby vlogs.
Which somehow landed on a video titled “Our Baby’s Christening (ft. emotional godparent reveal!!)”
Max blinked at the thumbnail. “Do we have to do that?”
Belle, curled sideways on the couch with a pregnancy pillow squashed under one knee, looked up from her book. “What? Swaddle? We should probably learn that, yeah.”
“No,” Max said. He pointed at the screen. “The christening.”
She tilted her head, expression unreadable. “Ah. Right. That.”
Max paused the video and turned toward her. “You want one?”
Belle let out a breath. “My grandmother would probably claw her way out of the grave and personally haunt me if we didn’t.”
He snorted.
“I’m serious,” she added. “She made Maman promise we’d all be christened Catholic, and that our children would be too. I think the woman crossed herself more than she blinked. She literally sewed crosses into every one of Charles’ race suits.”
Max laughed again — but softer this time. “Okay. So… we do it?”
Belle gave a small nod. “I’d like to. If that’s okay with you.”
He reached for her hand without hesitation. “If it matters to you, it matters to me.”
She squeezed his fingers, then added, “But no vlog. No TikTok trend. No godparent cupcakes. That’s where I draw the line.”
“Noted,” Max grinned. “Subtle drama only.”
They were quiet for a beat, and then Belle said, without looking at him, “I want Emilie to be the godmother.”
Max didn’t even blink. “Obviously. She’ll be both protective and terrifying.”
Another pause.
“Do you know who you want?” Belle asked, quieter now.
He nodded slowly. “GP.”
Belle looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Max shifted slightly, his voice gentler now. “He’s been there for every moment that mattered. He’s steady. He’s smart. He puts up with me.”
She smiled. “That last one should qualify him for sainthood.”
Also Max, after a beat: “Plus, he’s Italian. He has a terrifying Catholic grandmother of his own. He’ll understand the stakes.”
Belle burst out laughing.
“Are you saying he’ll bring his own incense?”
“I’m saying he’s probably been guilted into mass more times than he can count. He knows the drill. He’ll kneel on command.”
Belle was still giggling as she wiped her eyes. “God, that’s perfect.”
“Exactly,” Max said, grinning. “Emilie and GP. Chaos and calm. Fire and structure.”
“They’ll balance each other out,” Belle said softly.
“Yeah,” Max agreed, smiling as he glanced down at her belly. “I think he’ll need that.”
***
Leclerc Brothers Group Chat
(Members: Arthur, Charles and Lorenzo)
Charles: ok we need to talk we cannot mess this up
Arthur: bonjour to you too what is the emergency now
Charles: the baby shower, Arthur Belle’s baby shower the baby is coming in like. weeks we have to get her something meaningful something GOOD like heart-wrenching
Arthur: You’re only saying that because you forgot it’s this weekend
Charles: I did NOT forget. I just didn’t realise it was THIS weekend.
Lorenzo: You’re panicking again. This is worse than the time you tried to write your own Christmas card and cried at the word “warmth.”
Arthur: “with all the warmth of a snowy heart” 💀
Charles: SHUT UP both of you I’m being serious this is our sister’s first baby and I wasn’t the best brother for a long time but I am trying now and we CANNOT show up with like. A teddy bear and a shrug
how do we say “we love you and we’re trying and sorry we were trash for so long but now we want to be the kind of uncles that get called first before any emergency”
Arthur: ok ok calm down we won’t get her a shrug I was thinking maybe like… custom baby shoes?
Charles: how is a baby supposed to know they’re custom?? that’s just for Instagram!
Lorenzo: that is not a gift. that’s just emotional damage control. we need to get her something ACTUALLY USEFUL
Charles: ok mr tax accountant what’s “actually useful” for a baby?? diapers??
Arthur: baby monitor white noise machine one of those things that stops the baby from eating electrical cords
Lorenzo: you just googled that didn’t you
Arthur: shut up i’m TRYING
Charles: can we please just buy something cute and emotional?? like a tiny ferrari onesie??
Lorenzo: absolutely not do you want Max to fight us in the parking lot
Lorenzo: Okay then, what do you want? A monogrammed bassinet? A tiny race suit with Verstappen on the back?
Charles: you are making it WORSE I want something that says “I love you and I see you and I’m sorry for every birthday I missed and also your child will be so loved he’ll never doubt it for a second”
Arthur: so a card?
Charles: arthur i will drive to your apartment and throw a diaper at your head
Lorenzo: we could put together a basket things for her. not just the baby. like pampering stuff??
Charles: like bath salts??? she’s not allowed hot baths isn’t that a pregnancy thing
Arthur: ok so NOT that what about like a robe. nice robe. soft. hug-adjacent.
Lorenzo: robe fuzzy socks giant water bottle snacks that Max isn’t allowed to touch
Arthur: gift card for foot massage???
Charles: matching pyjamas for her and the baby 😭😭😭😭
Lorenzo: now you’re crying aren’t you
Charles: OF COURSE I AM SHE’S GROWING A WHOLE PERSON
Lorenzo: yes done group letter, gift basket, and we each pick one thing for the baby too
Charles: dibs on tiny hat
Arthur: dibs on bedtime book. i’m starting his library.
Lorenzo: i’ll sort the blanket. cashmere. he deserves cashmere.
Charles: guys we’re going to be uncles 😭😭😭
***
Belle hadn’t meant to fall in love with that stroller.
It wasn’t even on the list. She’d made a list — a sensible one, full of safety reviews and budget considerations and real-world feedback from exhausted parents online. The plan was to look at a few models, ask questions, keep it practical.
She had not planned to stand in the middle of the baby store cradling the handlebar of a €1,500 dutch-engineered stroller that folded with one hand and rolled like a dream, her heart inexplicably full.
It was beautiful.
Matte black. Compact. Sleek enough to look like it belonged on a Formula 1 grid. The kind of stroller that could survive cobblestones and airport chaos and whatever post-apocalyptic terrain a toddler might drag it through.
But it was also—
Ridiculous.
Belle let go of the handle and stepped back quickly, like maybe that would dull the sting of wanting something so wildly over-the-top. She turned toward the more modest display beside it.
“This one’s nice too,” she said, gesturing vaguely at a midrange model. “The safety ratings are almost identical and the basket is bigger. It’s more—reasonable.”
Max didn’t answer immediately. She could feel him behind her, that quiet hum of attention he always gave her even when he wasn’t saying a word.
“Schatje.”
She turned. He was still standing by the expensive stroller, one hand on the handle, frowning slightly.
“You like this one.”
“I mean, yes,” she said quickly. “But we don’t need it. It’s just—it’s a stroller, Max. It’s wheels and a seat and—honestly the cheaper one is probably better for the city anyway.”
He tilted his head. “Do you like it?”
“Max—”
“Do you like this one?” he repeated, quietly.
Belle hesitated. Then nodded, almost sheepish. “Yeah. I do. It’s stupid, I know. It’s just—smooth. And quiet. And it folds up in one hand and looks like a spaceship and I kind of imagined walking him around the paddock in it.”
Max’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile too hard. He looked at the stroller again. Gave it a slight push. It rolled half a metre in near-silence.
“You’re right,” he said. “It does look like a spaceship. I like it.”
Belle crossed her arms. “That doesn’t mean we should spend—”
“I’m not looking at the price tag,” Max said gently. “I’m looking at you.”
She blinked.
“You’re trying to downplay how much you want this,” he said, stepping closer. “Because you think it’s too much. Too expensive. Too...extra. But Belle—” His voice softened further. “You’re growing our child. You can have the spaceship stroller.”
She looked down, a little overwhelmed. “I just don’t want to be stupid about money.”
“You’re not stupid,” Max said. “You’re thoughtful. And kind. And responsible. And if the only irrational thing you do this year is fall in love with a stroller that turns like a kart, then I think we’re doing pretty well.”
Belle laughed — a short, breathless sound that cracked under the emotion welling in her throat.
“Besides,” Max added with a sly grin, “I’ve seen the way you push shopping carts. You deserve a machine with proper steering.”
She rolled her eyes and wiped at the corner of one, now-damp eye. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m absolutely helping,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “We’re getting this one. And we’ll find the car seat with the same level of unnecessarily perfect suspension while we’re at it.”
Belle rested her head against his chest for a moment, letting herself breathe.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Don’t thank me,” Max murmured. “You’re the one doing the hard part. I’m just here to carry boxes and make you laugh.”
She stepped back and looked at the stroller again — really looked at it. “Alright. We’ll take it.”
Max turned to the sales assistant. “Hi, yes, we’ll take this one. And whichever car seat she points to next, no questions asked.”
The assistant blinked. “Um. Do you want to see the matching bassinet—?”
“She wants it.”
“I do,” Belle admitted.
“Then we want it too.”
And that was that.
***
Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Gianpiero Lambiase
Max: you had a kid right?
GP: …yes why? what did you do
Max: nothing?? yet i just have a question
GP: go on
Max:
what’s the one thing you didn’t think you’d need for the baby
but you absolutely needed
GP: Oh. Hands down? The snot sucker.
Max: the WHAT
GP: The little vacuum thing that pulls snot out of their nose. You’ll think it’s disgusting. You’ll use it at 2am during a cold and swear it’s the greatest invention since DRS.
Max: 😭😭😭😭😭
GP: Also:
A white noise machine that doesn’t sound like an airplane
About 30 burp cloths
Nappy cream that costs more than you think it should
Somewhere to put the baby when you both need your hands free and he’s awake and plotting chaos
Max: ok writing all this down you’re like the FIA of fatherhood
GP: Don’t make me enforce a penalty for incorrect swaddling.
***
Group Chat: HELP ME
(Members: Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz Jr., George Russell, Alex Albon, Nico Hülkenberg, Nico Rosberg, Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber, David Coulthard, Sergio Pérez, Fernando Alonso, Kimi Räikkönen, Zhou Guanyu, Logan Sargeant, Esteban Ocon, Lance Stroll, Valtteri Bottas, Pierre Gasly and Yuki Tsunoda)
Alex: any news from max + belle land? baby update?? does the baby have eyebrows yet??
Pierre: what kind of question is “does the baby have eyebrows yet”
Oscar: technically not the worst question asked in this chat
George: …so? anything new?
Lando: not really?? they’re chill max is full dad mode already and Emilie is planning this jungle baby shower thing with victoria and it’s kind of elite actually—
George: Baby SHOWER??? EXCUSE ME??
Carlos: I wasn’t invited. Were you invited??
Lewis: …there’s a baby shower?
Fernando: What is a baby shower and is there alcohol
Lando: i didn’t say when it was or where or if it’s happening at all could be a metaphorical shower
Sebastian: There’s nothing metaphorical about you being the worst secret keeper on the grid.
Alex: Can someone confirm: is this a real event is there a dress code do I need to bring a onesie
Pierre: I WILL BRING A ONESIE
Yuki: I AM LEARNING TO BAKE COOKIES CAN I COME
David: Are we seriously doing this. Are we all going to Max’s house with pastel cupcakes and nappy cakes.
Mark: I’ve RSVP’d emotionally and spiritually. When’s the flight.
Oscar: Guys. There is a guest list…
Sergio: too late. i’m already designing a balloon arch.
George: Do we need a theme? Should I coordinate my shirt? What if there’s a group photo?
Fernando: I repeat: will there be alcohol.
Valtteri: I’ll bring gin.
Zhou: I’ll bring matching baby sneakers and also a mini car seat in Ferrari red 😌
Nico R.: As a father I consider it my duty to attend and to offer unsolicited stroller advice
Esteban: What do babies want though?? Do they want socks? A small hat? A tiny car??
Sebastian: They want love. And safe sleep environments. And emotionally intelligent parenting. Also probably a stuffed turtle.
Lewis: i already have three gift ideas none of them are practical all of them are fabulous
Fernando: does anyone know if there’s a registry
Lance: wait so we’re all invited???
Lando: no one’s invited i literally JUST said that
Alex: so it’s like a stealth party and we’re the chaos agents
Nico H. : i refuse to be left out i am exceptional at baby showers
Sebastian: what does that mean
Nico H: don’t worry about it
***
Text Messages: Lando Norris & Emilie Abadie
Lando: hi hey hello
Lando: please don’t kill me but like hypothetically how flexible is your headcount for the baby shower
Emilie: … what did you do
Lando: ok so someone asked if there was any news about max and belle and the baby and i said no not really and then i MAY have mentioned the shower and the jungle theme and victoria’s iced coffee and now i think there might be 30 more people coming?
Emilie: THIRTY?1?
Lando: it was accidental!!! they asked!!! i panicked and told the truth like a GOOD PERSON
Emilie: you are not a good person you’re a flight risk in high tops
Lando: accurate but like harmless??
Emilie: you told Fernando Alonso there’s a baby shower do you know what kind of unhinged energy that man brings to a jungle-themed event
Lando: to be fair he’s bringing his own wine
Emilie: EXACTLY. that’s not comforting. that’s alarming.
Lando: i’ll help i’ll bring chairs i’ll build the balloon arch i’ll inflate things
Emilie: you’re already inflating this situation
Lando: i’m sorry 😭😭😭 can i at least bring the mochi yuki found
Emilie: yes but you’re on damage control duty
Lando: fair 🫡
***
Belle looked tired.
Not the kind of tired Emilie was used to seeing on her — not the jet lagged, I’ve-been-working-until-3AM-on-a-pitch tired. This was slower. Deeper. A quiet sort of exhaustion that lived in her shoulders now, settled into the lines under her eyes and the cautious way she moved around the apartment.
Still, she looked happy. Different. Softer, in some ways. Sharper, in others. Like becoming someone’s mother had rearranged something fundamental in her bones.
Emilie watched her from the couch, flipping through a book of baby names that had no business being as long as it was.
“I’m vetoing anything that ends in ‘-aden,’ by the way,” she announced, drawing her finger down the page. “Caden, Braden, Jaden—no child of yours is going to sound like a forgotten High School Musical extra.”
Belle gave her a look — dry, affectionate. “You’re not even on the naming committee.”
“I’m your best friend,” Emilie replied. “I am the committee.”
Belle laughed — quietly, with the kind of smile she used to have before everything got complicated. Before the distance and the silence from her brothers. Before therapy sessions and phone calls that never came.
And then, suddenly, her expression shifted. Her hand slid to rest over her belly — protective, thoughtful — and she looked up.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
Emilie straightened. “Everything okay?”
Belle nodded. “Yeah. Just…”
Her voice faltered slightly.
Emilie felt the weight of it before she even heard the words.
“I’ve been thinking about… about the kind of people I want in his life. And I realized… it’s always been you. It was always going to be you.”
“Belle—?”
“I want you to be his godmother.”
The air seemed to still around them.
It hit Emilie square in the chest — that kind of quiet statement that felt like it split the world into before and after.
She blinked.
“Me?” she said, and hated how her voice cracked. “You want me?”
“You’ve been my person since before I knew how to fight for myself,” Belle said. “And you’ve never let me forget who I am, even when I wanted to. You’ve seen all the ugly and stayed. You’ve been my mirror and my sword and my sister in everything but blood. And now…”
She looked down, one hand covering her belly.
“…I want him to have you, too.”
Emilie didn’t trust herself to speak.
So she didn’t.
She just set the book down, crossed the room, and knelt next to Belle. Her palm flattened instinctively over the small swell of Belle’s belly, the other hand reaching for hers.
“I would be honoured,” she said, her throat tight. “And I swear to you, Belle—no matter what happens, I will always be in his corner.”
Belle let out a breath, smiling even as her eyes welled up. “Thank god. Because Max chose GP and I need someone to balance out the Italian Catholic chaos.”
That made Emilie snort, even through the emotion. “Oh god. That poor child’s christening is going to be like a Formula 1 team meeting with incense.”
They both laughed — the kind of laugh that felt like coming up for air.
And as Emilie rested her head lightly against Belle’s shoulder, she felt it.
A tiny kick beneath her hand.
A life.
A future.
And the unwavering, unquestionable knowledge: this baby was hers too, in every way that mattered.
***
***
Belle had suspected something was off the moment Emilie told her to wear something cute, but not too cute, but maybe something with a bit of jungle energy, but also neutral enough for casual lunch dining.
That sentence had seventeen warning signs in it.
But she hadn’t pressed.
Mostly because she was tired. And pregnant. And when she asked Max if he thought Emilie and Lando were acting weird lately, he just blinked at her and said, “They are always weird.”
Fair point.
So she’d put on a soft green wrap dress, pulled her hair into a loose braid, and let Max drive them to Overture, the place of their first date and wedding reception, that always looked like a painting.
“Maybe they just want to feed us,” Max had offered helpfully on the way there. “You’ve been craving that fancy tomato salad.”
Belle had narrowed her eyes. “You remembered my craving down to the exact vegetable.”
Max had shrugged. “Your cravings have a rota. It’s tomato week.”
And she’d laughed, because of course they’d made it a routine. That’s what they did—weathered things by naming them. Max kept track of her cravings like he kept track of tire degradation. Belle loved him for it more than she could ever say.
But still.
Something felt off.
Belle should’ve known something was up when Lando was on time.
Not just on time—early. Waiting outside Overture in a pressed shirt that he hadn’t spilled anything on yet, sunglasses perched in his hair, hands suspiciously empty.
Max parked the car beside him and narrowed his eyes instantly. “He’s being too still.”
Belle smothered a smile. “Maybe he’s maturing.”
“I’ve met Lando,” Max said. “That’s not maturity. That’s guilt.”
He had a point.
Lando spotted them and waved a little too enthusiastically. “Hi! Hello! You look so normal and unsuspecting!”
Belle blinked. “…What?”
“Nothing. I mean—nothing,” Lando added quickly. “Just. Great weather for… lunch. With friends. And not… other things.”
Max gave her a look that clearly read: he’s blown something up, hasn’t he?
“Where’s Emilie?” Belle asked, shifting slightly in the passenger seat. At 7 months pregnant, shifting at all required strategic maneuvering, and the sudden hush in Lando’s tone was not encouraging.
“She’s inside. Setting up—I mean—sitting down. Already. For… soup.”
“…Soup?”
“Yup!” Lando opened her door with the exaggerated cheer of someone trying very hard to pretend everything was fine. “Come on, let’s go. I hear the risotto is life-changing.”
Belle stepped out slowly, one hand on Max’s for balance, her other resting instinctively on the curve of her stomach. Max grabbed her hand and gave Lando one last suspicious squint.
“If there’s a marching band in there,” he muttered, “I’m turning around.”
***
Belle took three steps into the restaurant and immediately knew.
It was the flowers, first—bright tropical blooms clustered around a jungle of greenery and gold balloons. Then the smell of cinnamon and vanilla from the table in the corner. Then the sound of someone shushing someone else behind the doors to the private terrace.
Then—
“SURPRISE!”
A chorus of 40+ voices hit her all at once.
Belle stopped breathing.
For a second, all she could do was blink at the explosion of green and gold. Banners that said A LITTLE WILD ONE IS ON THE WAY. Monkeys hanging from paper vines. A table stacked with animal-shaped cookies, Donuts and baby books.
And then—the faces.
Victoria. Emilie. Max’s parents. Her mother (gasping into a tissue). Half the Grid. Half the WAGs. GP and his wife. Oscar and Lily waving beside a massive jungle-themed cake. Sebastian Vettel in a pastel button-up. Mark Webber next to him. Yuki Tsunoda in a lion costume for some unknown reason.
And Max—
Max was frozen beside her, eyes wide, expression somewhere between awe and mild existential terror.
“I knew it,” he muttered. “Lando can’t be trusted.”
Belle turned in stunned, slow motion toward Emilie, who was beaming.
“You knew,” Belle breathed.
Emilie looked smug. “Of course I knew. You would’ve cancelled if I’d told you.”
“I—” Belle looked around again. The room swam a little. “This is so much.”
“Exactly,” Emilie said. “Because you deserve everything.”
Belle opened her mouth. Closed it. And then did the most Belle thing possible: started crying.
“Oh no,” Victoria said, bustling over with a fan. “We made her cry already. You owe me five euros, Emilie.”
Max stepped forward instinctively, hand warm on her lower back, his other hand taking hers.
“You okay?” he asked, voice quiet, leaning in.
Belle nodded, overwhelmed and luminous. “Did you know?”
“Absolutely not,” he said.
Yuki trotted up in his lion onesie, holding out a tray. “Mini mochi? I made it.”
Belle laughed, finally—soft and loud at the same time.
There were flowers on every table. Jungle leaves woven into centerpieces. A hand-painted sign that said Little Wild Thing under a tiny Formula 1 flag. Max’s eyes were full of disbelief and something almost like panic, and yet—
He looked at Belle.
At the way she brought his hand to her belly. At the way her face broke open with joy she hadn’t prepared for.
And he melted.
“Okay,” Max murmured. “I think I get it now.”
Belle turned toward him. “Get what?”
“This,” he said. “All of it. He’s already so loved loved.”
She looked around the garden again. At the friends. The family. The absurd decorations. The stupid jungle soundtrack someone had snuck into the speaker system. The paper racing bibs. The absolute chaos of it.
Then she looked at him.
And smiled. “Yeah. He really is.”
Her mother approached with a trembling smile. Charles was filming the decor like a proud brother. Lorenzo handed her a lemonade and kissed the top of her head like she was still ten years old.
And Belle—
Belle looked around the room at the people who had gathered, the people who stayed, and felt something settle deep in her chest.
Not just love.
Belonging.
“You planned all this?” she asked Emilie, voice thick.
Emilie grinned. “With a little help.”
***
Charles wasn’t prepared.
Not for the decorations (someone (he suspected Alex) had arranged a stuffed orangutan to dangle dramatically off a trellis.), not for the sheer number of people present (nearly the whole grid? really?), and certainly not for the sight of his baby sister glowing in the center of it all.
Belle stood surrounded by balloons and laughter and the kind of joy that fills a room without needing to shout. She wore a soft green dress that curved around her bump, her hair twisted up with a little gold leaf pin Charles was almost certain Max had chosen for her. Her cheeks were pink from laughing, not crying—though she’d done a bit of that too when she first walked in and realized what had been done in her name.
He’d never seen her like this before.
Comfortable. Radiant. At home.
And what truly stunned him was that everyone else seemed to have always known this version of her.
He watched from near the drinks table, cradling a lemonade someone had thrust into his hand, as Belle greeted Max’s mother and kissed both her cheeks. Belle smiled, not shyly, but easily, her hand resting on her belly like it belonged there. Like she had nothing to prove.
When did that happen? Charles thought, swallowing hard.
She used to shrink at family parties. Fade into corners. She used to hover near the kitchen while the rest of them celebrated.
Now—people gravitated to her.
He spotted Victoria Verstappen nearby, fussing over the dessert table, muttering about fondant leaves. Emilie, supervising like a general. And just to Belle’s left, Max hovered with a protective ease that would’ve startled Charles if he hadn’t already spent the last few months watching them gradually orbit closer and closer to something unshakable.
Max touched the small of Belle’s back when someone came too close. Whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. Charles felt a flicker of something bitter-sweet crawl into his throat.
And then—Jos appeared.
Charles froze. Reflex, mostly.
But Jos wasn’t the same stormfront Charles remembered from Max’s early years. The man who now stepped into Belle’s space was… soft. Not smiling, not exactly—but his eyes were kind. His voice quiet.
He said something to her in Dutch. Belle laughed, eyes bright. Jos nodded once, then—stunningly—reached forward and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear.
Charles stared.
Jos Verstappen had never been gentle in his life.
And yet here he was, touching Belle like she was something rare and breakable and deeply his. Like family.
That realization knocked something loose in Charles.
Max’s family didn’t just tolerate her. They adored her. They saw her.
And Belle, for the first time in her life, didn’t have to shrink to fit into someone else’s frame. She had carved out a space entirely her own, and filled it with people who loved her without question.
Even Oscar.
Charles’s gaze shifted to where Oscar Piastri stood off to the side, casually handing Belle a leomnade as if it were a normal occurrence. Belle accepted it with a soft smile, and Oscar returned it.
Charles had known Oscar for years. Calm. Steady. Brilliant under pressure.
But now he watched the younger man hover near Belle like a devoted shadow. Not obtrusive. Not obvious. Just quietly, deeply loyal. Like if Belle so much as tripped, he’d catch her before Max even turned around.
And Charles realized something else then.
Max wasn’t the only one who would fight for her.
She had a battalion now.
Loving, chaotic, fiercely loyal people who had chosen her again and again, even when her own brothers hadn’t seen her fully. Charles felt shame, but also something softer curling beneath it.
Hope.
Maybe it wasn’t too late.
He took a sip of lemonade. Let the noise wash over him. And quietly, for the first time in a long time, he said a silent thank-you—to Max, to Emilie, to the whole wild circle Belle had built around herself.
Because she was safe now.
Loved.
Home.
And Charles, standing just a little outside of it all, knew: he would spend the rest of his life earning his way back in.
***
Belle was already emotionally compromised before the gifts started.
She had made it through the surprise. The jungle theme. The personalized cookies shaped like lions and giraffes.
She’d smiled through it all — grateful, overwhelmed, but holding it together.
But the gift-giving?
That was where she started to unravel.
Lando was in charge of “gift passing.” A job he had appointed himself for no reason other than chaos.
“I HAVE GIFTED EXCELLENCE,” Daniel Ricciardo declared, swaggering toward her with an obnoxiously large gift bag patterned with racing flags and glitter. “You’re welcome in advance.”
Belle gave him a look of wary affection. “Do I want to know?”
He grinned, clearly thrilled with himself.
Inside the bag: a series of baby onesies, each printed with increasingly absurd slogans:
DRS = Diaper Release System
My First Sector Time
Rookie of the Year
My Other Stroller is the RB19
Belle laughed so hard she nearly knocked over her lemonade.
“Danny,” she wheezed, holding up the ‘Mini Verstappen, Maximum Chaos’ onesie, “this one might start a diplomatic incident.”
“I can live with that,” he said proudly, then pulled her into a careful hug. “Love you, Mama Verstappen.”
Oscar followed next with a sheepish smile and a much softer gift: a plush stuffed koala wearing a tiny Red Bull cap, which he presented with all the ceremony of someone handing over a national treasure. Lily leaned against him and added, “It’s not just cute. He has a little eucalyptus oil pouch inside. Calming. Baby aromatherapy.”
“I love him already,” Belle said, hugging it. “The koala, not Oscar.”
Oscar pouted. “You’re hormonal and cruel.”
Then Lando handed her the next box. No wild wrapping this time — just brown paper and twine.
“This one’s from GP and Eloisa,” he said, much softer than before. “No theme. No chaos. It’s… you’ll see.”
Belle blinked.
Across the room, GP , who had been lingering at the edge of the crowd like a seasoned tactician avoiding a PR camera — stepped forward with his wife beside him. Eloisa smiled, warm and gentle.
Belle sat a little straighter, suddenly nervous.
GP didn’t smile, not fully. But his eyes were soft, his voice steady.
“It’s not flashy,” he said. “But we thought it might be… the sort of thing you don’t realize you need until you have it.”
She peeled back the paper carefully. Inside was a leather-bound journal, thick and soft and already a little worn, like it had been handled just enough to feel like home. Tucked into the front pocket were three pens — dark blue, capped, nothing fancy.
Max went still beside her.
Belle opened to the first page. There, in looping handwriting—Eloisa’s, she thought—was a note:
Write it all down — the moments you’ll swear you’ll remember and still forget.
The 3am feedings. The accidental laughter. The time he sneezed and terrified himself.
Every version of love.
Her breath hitched.
She flipped to the inside cover and found a second note, written in GP’s unmistakable, efficient scrawl:
Max, you’ve driven through worse nights than these.
But these will be the ones that matter.
Keep track.
– GP.
Belle’s throat burned.
GP glanced down at the baby bump, his voice lower now. “I’ve known Max through every version of his life. Debut Max. Angry Max. World Champion Max. But this…”
He looked back up.
“This is the best one yet.”
Belle wasn’t crying. Not exactly. But the tears slid down her cheeks like they had permission.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For seeing him. For seeing me.”
GP nodded once, then looked to Max — who was dead silent, jaw clenched, visibly blinking faster than usual.
GP clapped his shoulder. Not roughly. Just enough.
“You’ll be good at this,” he said.
Max nodded, lips parted like he might speak — then just reached out and hugged him.
Belle didn’t know what broke her more: the hug or the fact that GP hugged him back without hesitation.
Then came the Verstappen family gifts — a beautifully wrapped bundle of Dutch baby books from Sophie, knitted booties from Max’s grandmother…A tiny onesie that looked just like Max’s race suit from Jos. A whole box of baby clothing from Victoria…
And then came the grid-wide chaos pile, which featured:
George presenting a very serious "early childhood development kit" in aesthetically neutral tones (“It's all Montessori and machine washable,” he added, gravely).
Esteban and Pierre accidentally giving her the same exact baby blanket, then arguing loudly about who bought it first. (“You saw it in my cart,” Esteban insisted. Pierre gestured wildly with a croissant. “You think you invented cashmere?!”)
Fernando giving her a velvet pouch with a gold coin in it. Nobody dared to question it.
Valtteri gave her a small, handwritten booklet titled F1-Themed Lullabies, As Sung By a Very Finnish Man. It included suggested lyrics for hits like “Soft Tyre Sleep” and “Hush Now, No Overtake.”
Sebastian, who handed her a cardboard box filled with native wildflower seed packets and a card that said, “Plant something when he’s born. Grow something with him.”
Nico Rosberg presented Belle with a heavily annotated 40-slide PowerPoint titled “Optimizing Infant Sleep Cycles: A Performance-Based Approach.” There were charts. Graphs. Citations. (“Did you—did you run simulations?” Belle asked. “I partnered with a pediatric sleep coach,” Nico replied, like that was normal.)
Nico Hülkenberg brought a wooden toy race car with “Baby’s First DNF” carved into the underside. (“No one talks about failure enough,” he explained.)
Lance Stroll gave her a gift certificate for a baby-safe yacht cruise along the Monaco coast. (“There’s a shaded cabana,” he said. “For naps. His or yours.” He refused to say how much it cost. Belle refused to ask.)
Alex Albon had cobbled together a custom colouring book titled Track Limits and Life Lessons, featuring adorable little race cars learning the value of boundaries, tire management, and how to ask for help.
Lando, who had been suspiciously quiet since the chaos began, finally handed her a slim envelope with a handmade card inside that simply read: or when you need five minutes to breathe. Inside: a voucher for weekly baby-free coffee runs with Lando. He'd written "I promise to drive slow" and underlined it twice.
Belle was already blinking fast by the time her brothers stepped forward.
The basket came first. Inside: soft robes. A giant water bottle. Her favorite snacks. Bath oil, a silk eye mask, cozy socks, and an absurdly soft swaddle blanket.
“I didn’t even say half of this out loud,” she whispered, tearing up as she touched each item.
“We asked Emilie,” Arthur said with a shrug, a little too casual to be believed. “She said you wouldn’t buy any of it for yourself.”
The card was handwritten by all three of them.
Lorenzo’s blocky script. Arthur’s chaotic doodles. Charles’ clean lines, reading:
We were terrible at seeing you. You deserved so much more. Let us do better — for you, and for him.
And then Charles, silent, stepped forward.
“This is for when he won’t sleep,” he said softly. “Or when you won’t.”
Belle took the USB with shaking hands. “What is it?”
“I recorded a few lullabies,” Charles said, voice catching. “On the piano. The one Maman made us all fall asleep to. I figured… maybe he should have those too.”
Her heart cracked open in real time.
“I—” she tried, but her voice wavered too much to finish.
She reached for him. He pulled her into a careful hug, pressing a kiss to her hair.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you too,” she whispered back.
And just when she thought she had nothing left in her heart to be surprised by—
Her mother stepped forward.
Pascale looked elegant and nervous in equal measure, her hands clasped around a small velvet box.
“This was given to me by my mother,” she said softly. “On the day I had Lorenzo. It’s been passed down, from mother to daughter, every time a child is born.” She opened the box, and there, nestled in cream satin, was a delicate gold necklace — thin chain, warm luster, and a small heart-shaped pendant.
Belle felt her breath catch.
Pascale fastened it gently around her neck. “I haven’t always known how to be there,” she whispered. “But I want to try now. For you. For him.”
Belle blinked fast. Her throat tightened. But she nodded.
“Thank you,” she said. And meant it.
***
Meanwhile on Twitter:
@/tiregirlie: 🚨🚨 GUYS I’M LOSING MY MIND 🚨🚨 just walked past Overture in Monaco and saw like??? 3/4 of the grid??? plus SEBASTIAN VETTEL??? and possibly Nico Rosberg and David Coulthard?? leaving together????
what the ACTUAL hell???
@/tiregirlie: updates:
i saw lando literally carrying a gift bag with vines coming out of it
pierre and esteban were arguing about something wrapped in the same paper
fernando was holding a BABY HELMET???
yuki had powdered sugar all over his shirt and looked emotionally wrecked
max walked out holding belle’s hand and looked like he’d been emotionally waterboarded
@/tiregirlie: this wasn’t a brunch. this was a BABY SHOWER AND THEY WERE ALL INVITED even jos verstappen??? he hugged belle on the way out. i am not okay.
@/tiregirlie: someone make me a list bc i swear i saw: ✔ max (obviously) ✔ belle (STUNNING. glowing. ethereal.) ✔ lando + emilie(covered in glitter) ✔ oscar + lily (hand in hand) ✔ daniel (smiling like he committed a federal crime) ✔ seb?! ✔ george (in monochrome beige. enough said.) ✔ pierre + estaban ( fighting?? unclear.) ✔ fernando (baby helmet. zero explanation.) ✔ charles + arthur + lorenzo (looked like they’d cried.) ✔ jos (looked like he cried??) ✔ GP ???
✔ Nico Rosberg (??) ✔ Mark Webber??? ✔ Fernando Alonso IN LINEN?? AND THAT’S JUST WHO I SAW
@/tiregirlie: also: Belle posted a jungle-themed baby shower pic five hours later. Victoria’s stories match the interior of the private terrace at Overture. That means— Oh my god. OH MY GOD.
We just witnessed a grid-wide surprise baby shower. Max Verstappen was ambushed. By emotions. And themed desserts.
@/tiregirlie: final thoughts: i don’t know what that baby’s name will be but he already has 20+ honorary uncles and a literal army behind him
i hope he never forgets it. because i never will. 🐒🌿🍼
@/lilypadwithwifi: jos hugging belle is like the emotional equivalent of watching a lion become vegan
@/itsgivinggrid: the entire grid said “we will not let this woman raise a child without 37 handmade gifts, 12 breakdowns, and 4 stuffed animals” and honestly? beautiful.
@/girlsonsofts: the entire grid was invited we’re never topping this
@/teamsoftmax: This is giving — found family — quiet tenderness — emotional side quests — Daniel getting banned from baby gift shops — Belle as the axis around which the whole grid turned for one beautiful afternoon
@/tifosifangirl69: charles, arthur and lorenzo “looked like they’d cried” they DID i know it i feel it this was their apology arc and i support it
***
Instagram Stories: @/victoriaverstappen
***
Instagram Post: @/belleverstappen
Comments:
@/maxverstappen1: 🦁🦁🦁
@/victoriaverstappen: you deserved every balloon, every cookie, every tiny jungle leaf. and yes, max did cry. 🌿🍼💛
@/emilie_abadie: You’re the best mother already and the baby is not even here yet. ily always.
@/danielricciardo chaotic? no. visionary. (you’re welcome for the onesies) 😌🦁🔥
@/charles_leclerc: je t’aime. toujours.
@/georgerussell63 I accept that the entire family is now neutrally toned. it was an honor.
@/landonorris: i regret NOTHING. (ok maybe the glitter)
@/sebastianvettel: plant joy, always. (He already has the strongest roots)
@/oscarpiastri: congratulations again, belle ❤️
@/babyverstappenupdates: everyone say thank you belle for soft-launching the most emotionally destructive baby shower of the decade 🐒🍼💛
@/softdrsgirl: this baby is already more emotionally supported than i’ve ever been in my life. congrats mama 🫶
@/tiregirlie: hi. it’s me. the one who saw ¾ of the grid leaving that restaurant. thank you for confirming what i felt in my soul. 🍼🌿💥
@/paddocktea: why does Belle’s baby shower look like it was planned by an elite wedding stylist, a Pinterest mom, and a race engineer who cries in secret?
@/pitlaneprophet: victoria verstappen needs to start an events company. i want my funeral to look like that baby shower.
@/leclairsintherain: all jokes aside, i don’t think i’ve ever seen belle so loved. not by obligation. not by expectation. just… chosen. 🥹
#max verstappen fanfiction#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#max verstappen fluff#mv1 fanfiction#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fake instagram#f1 smau#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen x reader#mv1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#mv1 fic#max verstappen x you#f1 grid x reader#f1 grid fanfiction
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His Pumpkin
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: none, pure fluff, dad Lando



“Lan..” You sighed exhausted opening the door of Lando’s gaming room. On your hip, you hold your little girl Isla, who cries inconsolably and keeps rubbing her tired eyes with her little hands.
“Hold on, Max” Lando says into the microphone, removing the headphones from his ears and turning his gaze from the monitor to you and Isla. “Hey, baby. What’s wrong?” He asks getting up from his chair and walking up to the two of you.
“It's long past her bedtime and she just doesn't wanna fall asleep.” You say, already too tired and too pregnant to have any strength to spend another hour putting your three-year-old to sleep. “She is so tired she can barely keep her eyes open. I don’t know what to do anymore. Can you please take her over?”
“Of course, come here” Lando takes Isla in his arms giving her a kiss on her cheek to calm her down. “Are you okay?” He asks you.
“Yeah, I’m just exhausted. I’ll finish the laundry and then I’m going to bed.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll be with you when she’s asleep.”
You leave the room and Lando walks back to his gaming chair with Isla in his arms.
“What’s wrong, pumpkin? Why are you crying and not sleeping? Hm?” He asks Isla sitting down with her and removing her curly hair out of her face.
“I don’t wanna go to sleep, daddy” She sobs.
“But it’s almost 11 p.m., baby. It’s way too late. You wanna lie here on daddy’s chest until I finish something with uncle Max?”
“Okay”
Lando being Isla’s favorite place to sleep on, immediately gets her to agree with his suggestion. She nodds and takes her position laying her little head into the crook of his neck while the rest of her body clung to Lando’s chest.
“Okay, pumpkin.” He places another kiss on her cheek and starts rubbing her back with his hand while with the other he puts his headphones back on. He wasn’t actually gaming, he was doing something with Max for the new quadrant video so he wanted to get that done as soon as possible.
It took them another 45 minutes to finish what they were working on and when Lando looked down to his daughter he smiled when he saw her fast asleep with parted lips. Poor thing was so tired that as soon as her head hit Lando’s chest, she drifted off to sleep.
However, when Lando got up from the chair with her and started to carry her to her room she startled and woke up again. Realizing he was putting her down in her own bed, she just started crying again.
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay” Lando cooed her as she clung onto his arm.
“With you and mommy” She cried not wanting to sleep alone in her bed.
“Pumpkin, you know you can’t sleep with us while mommy has a baby brother in her belly” He explained to her God knows how many times already.
Considering that Isla is very restless when she sleeps and keeps tossing and turning throughout the night, Lando was more worried than you that she would kick you in the stomach, so he himself made the rule that she cannot sleep with you until you give birth.
“Daddy will lie in bed with you here, okay?”
He had planned to wait until she fell asleep again and slowly creep out of her bed and get back to you, but that went out the window when Lando doze off and ended up sleeping with Isla in bed.
When you woke up in the morning and realized that Lando wasn't next to you, you immediately knew what was going on because this wasn't the first time he fell asleep with Isla while trying to put her to sleep.
You slowly and quietly opened the door to her room and put your hand over your mouth, holding back from bursting out laughing when you saw the scene in front of you.
Lando was lying on his back with his head between lots of stuffed toys, two of them even falling over his forehead while Isla was sleeping peacefully with her back turned to Lando.
“Baby” You laughed softly slowly shaking his arm.
“Hm?” He raised his head looking around through one eye completely out of it wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth.
“There’s a slight possibilty those stuffed toys might suffocate you” You chuckled quietly. “Wanna go to our bed?”
“Yeah, let’s go” He mumbled tiredly getting out of bed.
Once you got to your room he took off the clothes he fell asleep in the night before and got back into bed with you. He kissed you a few times before lowering his head to the level of your round pregnant belly and left a couple of kisses there too.
“Thank you for last night, I was really tired. I love you.” You said running your fingers through Lando’s curls same as Isla’s.
“No need to thank me, baby. Just please remind me that we don't buy any more stuffed toys for pumpkin. I'm kinda running out of space in her bed.”
“Okay, baby. I will, don’t worry.” You laughed as he nuzzled his head into your neck and closed his eyes to get some rest before pumpkin is all ready and awake to start her day again.
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1#lando norris#lando norris x y/n#lando norris blurb#lando norris one shot#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#f1 x reader#f1 scenario#f1 smut#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 imagine
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Could you do a story where Sergei is tough, but also overprotective of the protagonist, pls?
I love your stories
A/N: ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY. I am so glad you requested this because lately I've been obsessed with sergei and have been thinking of a way to make a small fic about his toxic self so you requesting this gave me an idea! Thank you so much anon! It might be a little different from your request though but the tough part as well as overprotectiveness is still there, just more dark themes. I hope you don't mind that though, I just feel like it fits more with his character.


YOU'RE MINE, ALRIGHT? — sergei kravinoff
note: I do not own this man because he owns himself, periodt. This is made purely out of entertainment purposes!
warning!: violence, age-gap, (somewhat) toxic relationship, little blood, swearing, sexual harassment, mentions of death, 18+, and sergei being hot (man is a warning himself) mdni
__________________
You were only taking your nightly stroll in the forest while your lover was in the cabin somewhere in the woods that he made you move in after knowing each other for a while. Your relationship with him was not really ideal but you loved him with all your heart and vice versa.
Your lover might not show it but he cares about you more than he let on. It worried you for quite some time now that maybe you weren't good enough for him, you refused to do such things that he called 'the hunt'. You weren't prepared to do something so unnerving. Surprisingly, he agreed to let you prepare after a bit of arguing and silent treatments of course. Still, you thought that he might leave you because you have never done anything for him other than sit still and be pretty.
But you were so wrong.
Sighing as an owl hoots through the trees and crickets sounding in your surroundings, you now began to walk towards the path to the cabin. You've basically just walked straight from here to there so it wasn't that hard to find your way back.
Noises of leaves crushing alerted you as you walked down the path. Multiple voices sounded from the right side of you but before you could hide, a bright flashlight flickered towards your figure, blinding you.
Hissing a bit from the bright light, you blinked your eyes before your vision focused to four males who looked about a couple years older than you. An ache appeared in your stomach as you felt like you had a bad feeling about the situation.
"Well, well. Look at what we have here." One of the men whistled as his eyes looked at your frame up and down.
"Quite a looker, right?" The other one on his right licked his lips in anticipation.
"Think we could use her for entertainment?" Another one from behind snickered. As if a light bulb appeared on top of their heads, their eyes lit up dangerously making you step back in fear as you heard their conversation.
No, please don't.
"Don't worry, doll. This will only last for the whole night." The man in the middle reassured but it was anything but reassuring. Before you could sprint off, one of them had already grabbed you by the arms, arms tightening around you as you continued to struggle.
Fear was evident in your eyes as tears started to prickle in them. This cannot be happening, you thought. You were a bit far from home so you couldn't scream for your lover because of the distance. You were now sobbing as the men took their time in touching you. Hands ripping off your shirt leaving you in your bra as well as your lover's boxers that you wore since you've used all of yours already.
You could feel their hands groping each part of your body before they finally decided to spread your legs. You were struggling to close it because multiple pair of hands were pinning you down to the ground next to a tall tree.
Sergei, that was the only thing you could think of.
Sergei, my love.
Sergei, please.
Save me.
"SERGEI!" You suddenly screamed out your lover's name making the men flinch from your voice.
"Fucking hell—this bitch is so loud!"
"Scream all you want, love. But no one ain't gonna hear you here." They all laughed as you kept sobbing. Why must this happen? Your bra was long forgotten as you tried to get your hands free but alas you cannot. The man between your legs then lowered his head towards one of your breasts but before he could latch on it a loud thump interrupted them.
"You dare.." A deep voice growled out as the four men stopped what they were doing. They slowly looked up and saw a very muscular man that stalked over them. His eyes glowing in a yellow serpent like color, his forearms hardening, as well as a very dark and murderous look on his face. The man menacingly stalked towards them as the men were quick to scramble up to their feet fixing their clothes before sprinting out.
The man immediately chased them and since all four were running at the same direction, he jumped high and landed in front of them to stop them from escaping.
"You dare to break and enter my forest, not only that.." He continued his words from before. Grabbing one of them by the neck he tossed him to a tree, hard. Making a sickening crack to be heard in the air, causing the others to look at the man in fear.
"You hurt what is mine."
You woke up in a familiar room and the warmth surrounding your from the fireplace. You were confused, weren't you just in the forest taking a nightly stroll while your lover was busy?
Just then your head started to ache as you remembered what happened. You hugged yourself as you now began to sob quietly, you were harassed, sexually to the point that you were ripped off your clothing. It made you feel disgusted with yourself, what would Sergei think of you now?
Footsteps sounded from behind you as you continued to wrap your arms around yourself hoping to shield yourself from the exposure from the world. Hot steaming food was suddenly placed in front of you as you blinked from surprise before looking away, not wanting to consume any food.
"Eat." It was your lover. Sergei plopped down on the spot beside you taking the spoon topped with food from the plate before putting said plate on the drawer beside the bed. He grabbed you by the chin before gently forcing you to look in his direction. This gave you no choice but to eat the food on the spoon he held up.
This continued for a few moments until you finished your food. The silence was deafening and it bothered you but it seems like your lover doesn't see that.
"I'm sorry."
Sergei paused from cleaning up the table before looking at you, confusion evident in his eyes despite his face unchanging.
"O—other men touched me..y—you probably don't want a woman like me a—anymore. I mean, I wouldn't as well.." You coarsed out as tears began to fall from your eyes as you look down in shame. You couldn't look at him in the eyes, you were so ashamed of yourself, hell even disgusted. You felt so dirty as you could still feel those men's hands all over you, tongues licking your neck, fabric tearing away from your skin. It made you feel ill.
Suddenly your face was gently pulled up letting you make eye contact with a pair of dark brown eyes that was in a fixed scowl but if you looked closely, it softened the moment you both made eye contact.
Sergei didn't know how to comfort you as growing up, all he knew was violence. But he did the only thing he knew he could do.
He kissed you.
"I'll make their hands disappear and make you remember mine, instead."
#aaron taylor johnson#aaron taylor johnson x reader#sergei kravinoff#sergei kravinoff x reader#kraven the hunter#kraven x reader
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Crazy, What You’ll Do for a Friend
Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader
Summary: After Hotch gets hurt out in the field, you and the other members of the BAU take turns taking care of Hotch at his home. Reader want to make sure she can help Hotch in whatever way she can.
CW: Hotch having an attitude bc of course he does, sex fantasy, needy!Hotch, oral m!receiving, fingering
a/n: Hotch is literally the master of flirting when he isn’t at work I cannot with him, this is more short and sweet than most my stories
This is the other Fanfic from the poll!
READ PART 2
title track 🎶🩹
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Reid answered the door. Bright smile on his face greeting you, “Hey.”
“Hey,” you smiled back at him.
“Come on in,” Reid moved out of the doorway allowing you to pass by him. You waited in the entry way for Reid to close the door.
“How is he?”
“Uhm— good. Mad that we’re here,” he laughed awkwardly.
You cocked an eyebrow, silently. A few weeks ago, Hotch had gotten caught up in the line of fire. Getting struck in his thigh and stomach. Lucky to not have bled out on the field. The day was a harsh memory that you refused to let go. Making sure to never let anyone else make the same mistakes as him again. Never feeling weaker than seeing him in the hospital bed. The Team had all agreed to take care of Hotch while he was on home rest. Taking shifts throughout the weeks.
You followed behind Reid into the living room.
“What are you doing here?” Hotch gritted through his teeth. Only wearing some loose fitting sweat pants and a tight white t-shirt. A strong contrast from his usual suit and tie. Straining as he attempted to get off the couch by himself. Reid rushed over to him, lifting him by his shoulder. Hotch swatted at the Doctor, attempting to jerk away.
“We’re all taking turns helping you. Guess I’m on Hotch Duty for tonight,” you shrugged your shoulders, giving him a closed mouth smile.
Hotch’s brows furrowed tightly, vein on his neck popping. “I don’t need help. What I need is to get back to work,” Hotch pushed Reid away as he finally got to his feet. Reid threw his hands up in a defensive position still close behind your boss.
“Yeah, it really looks like it,” you rolled your eyes as you folded your arms over your chest.
Hotch shot a chilling look your way, but you were unwavering. “I’m still your superior—“
“And right now I’m your caretaker. I’m sure Reid has been letting you boss him around, but I’m not going to let that happen. No offense, Spence,” you stated. Spencer waved his hand up to let you know he was not offended.
Hotch’s hand gripped the arm of the couch with a bruising strength. Barely able to hold himself up properly. A slight shake to his body. Angry that you, of all people, were talking to him this way. Fighting the way his heart swelled as soon as his eyes laid upon you in his living room today.
You and Hotch had grown close in the last few years. Growing into a mutual unspoken want for one another. Casually flirting when you were alone or not at work. Keeping each other company on extremely late nights at the office. Getting closer than you realistically should, given the field you worked in.
“Reid, you can go,” Hotch did not break eye contact with you.
“A-Are you sure—“
“We’ll be fine, Spence,” you smiled eyes locked in on Hotch’s.
Reid grabbed his bag and headed for the door, “If you guys need anything I’m only a text away.”
“Thank you,” you said still not breaking with Hotch. His deep brown eyes made your heart skip a beat. The wrinkles on his face as he attempted to intimidate made you blush. Not speaking until the door closed behind Reid.
“Are you gonna have an attitude with me all night?” You teased, cheeks beaming with heat. Hotch blew air out of his nose. Skin tightly pinched between his eyebrows. Refusing to speak to you. “Oh, come on. Your favorite boy is gone, you don’t have to keep up the mean-mug,” you walked over closing the space between you. Extending your arm out to him so that he could brace himself to walk.
His jaw clenched. Stubbornness being a strong suit of his. Hesitantly taking your offer of help. “Where are we heading?”
“I need to use the bathroom,” Hotch grumbled.
Slowly, you assisted him to the bathroom tucked away next to his living room. Standing in the doorway as you allowed him to shimmy himself over to the toilet. Not even thinking of what you were doing, until Hotch gave you a strange look.
“Are you wanting to watch?”
Your face flooded. Stammering as you cupped your own cheek. Shaking your head with closed eyes. Smiling awkwardly, “Sorry—“
Hotch had to fight the smile that dared creep across his face. Enjoying how flustered you were. You reached in to pull the door shut. Leaning against the wall directly next to the bathroom. Hands gripping your hair in embarrassment as you replayed the moment over and over. Trying to cool the heat in your cheeks.
Straightening your posture when you heard the door click open. Greeting him with a soft smile and your arm extended. His brows were still pressed together. Lips in a thin line as he hooked his arm around yours. Leading him back into the living room so that he could get comfortable.
The night slipped away. Preparing dinner for your boss as he sat at the counter. Dying to get up. Hating to be taken care of. Denying the comfort he felt with you nestled in his home.
“Hotch, I can hear you bouncing your leg, cut it out,” you did not even look over your shoulder to give him eye contact. He scoffed, the sound of his leg subsiding.
“I know you hate all this. Really I do,” you softly spoke to him as you plated the food, “But all of us just want to see you get better. We want our leader back in his best shape. I want you to relax and let me take care of you.”
Hotch’s eyes watched every move you made. Stalking you like his prey as you brought the plate over to him. Expression unchanging, “How am I supposed to relax? There’s cases and I’ve been away so long already. I can’t stay cooped up here forever.”
“And you won’t. The sooner you take it easy, the sooner you can come back,” you flattened your hand against his shoulder. Hotch’s expression softened with your gesture. Swiftly directing his attention onto the food in front of him. Something about the interaction caused your cheeks to warm up. Unsure what that was about. Walking over to his fridge.
“What can I get you to drink?”
“Just water,” Hotch took a bite of food.
“Aw, you don’t wanna crack open a bottle of wine and reveal our darkest secrets to each other?” You teased, looking over your shoulder at him. Seeing his brows pushed together. Lips in a strong, straight line.
“Okay— tough crowd,” you widened your eyes as you closed the fridge. Going to grab a cup out of the cabinet to fill it for him. Walking over and taking the seat beside him. Silently eating dinner together. Guess you did not have much to talk about. And he was clearly in no mood to chit-chat.
“You’re a good cook,” Hotch broke the silence with a compliment.
“You’re telling me Reid didn’t prepare you a four coarse, perfectly diet-balanced meal while he was here?” You teased. Finally, breaking away Hotch’s hard shell. A soft chuckle coming from him. “I’m sure he would’ve had a slideshow to explain it all too,” you grinned.
“He wouldn’t need the slideshow, he could explain it all to me himself,” Hotch joked as he pulled the food from his fork. Feeling comfortable for the first time together. Allowing both your walls down. Sharing in your laughter.
You both finished your dinner. Taking the plates and putting them in the sink. Allowing Hotch to walk on his own to put his away. Standing beside him the entire time. You interlocked arms with him to lead him into the living room. Grunting as he sat down, eyes closing as he rested his head against the back.
“Is there anything I can do for you? I’ll do whatever you need to relax,” you smiled, standing in front of him.
Something about that seeped into his imagination. Feeling his cock jump when an imagine of you kneeled between his legs popped into his mind. With everyone here, he had not had any alone time. Needing to let out some of the things pent up inside him. Your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock—
“No,” Hotch blurted out. Aggression returning to him. Catching you off guard and causing a bit of frustration to bubble up inside you. You scoffed and headed into the kitchen to do the dishes, “Don’t try anything while I’m in there.”
Once you disappeared around the corner, he relaxed again. Clicking mindlessly through the channels on the TV. Trying to distract himself. Looking down at his half-hard cock. Embarrassed that he was thinking of one of his subordinates in the way he was. Still he allowed himself to fantasize.
Imagining how beautiful you would look sat upon his lap. Straddling his waist as you sunk down onto him. Thinking about how you would sound moaning his name when the head would hit somewhere just right inside you. Dying to know how perfectly he would fill you up. He needed something— anything from you.
Allowing his hand to softly touch his aching member. Only making things worse for him. His face contorted as he squinted his eyes shut. Mouth hanging open slightly.
God, he was such a pervert.
Jumping when he heard the water stop in the sink. Footsteps enclosing on the room. In the time you had done the dishes, you had calmed down from Hotch’s outburst. Knowing and rationalizing that he was going through a lot and sometimes he would be more vulnerable than others. Greeting him with a bright smile. Grabbing your bag off the kitchen chair, “Do you mind if I go change?”
“Of course not,” Hotch breathed out.
“I’ll know if you strain while I’m gone,” you smirked.
Hotch grinned back at you. Watching you until you faded away into the bathroom, door clicking behind you. Thank God he had one of the best poker face’s around. Finally allowing himself to breathe.
His erection pressed against the soft fabric of his sweats. Driving him absolutely insane. He pondered if he would have time to rub it out before you got back from changing. Softly playing with himself as he thought. Groaning at the feeling of his fingers trailing his length. Trying to control his breathing as to not make any overtly sexual sounds.
Oh, God, how he needed it. His cock pulsed with pure desire. Something he did not think his hand alone could fill. He felt pathetic. Preparing to ask you what he was going to.
The door creaked open. You came back to see him still in the same spot as before. He looked over his shoulder, eyes widening when he saw you. Wearing a loose fit t-shirt and some sporty shorts. Hair relaxed and quite a bit of skin showing.
“Hope you don’t mind, your house kinda runs hot,” you smiled, suddenly aware of his eyes on your body. Loving the attention he was giving. Blushing as his jaw hung open softly.
There were not many occasions where members of the BAU saw each other outside of work. Normally dressed in business attire, making sure to look extremely respectable and professional. Used to the button-ups and slacks. Not a shirt that perfectly hugged your chest and some shorts that were barely revealed under the length of your top.
As if he wasn’t hard enough already.
You sat on the other end of the couch beside him. Only a small pillow between your bodies. Legs crossing, causing your shorts to hike further up your thighs. Revealing the extra soft spots closer to your core.
“Anything good on?”
Hotch hesitated, “No.”
You widened your eyes at his short answer. Not sure what had gotten him so irritable in the last bit. Not wanting to push him. Choosing to stay quiet as you leaned against the arm of the couch. Watching some old sci-fi movie he had landed on. They were shooting out with some aliens. No telling what over, the movie was half way over by the time Hotch got to it.
The glow of the TV was all that illuminated the room. Flashes of colors dancing across your skin. Silently staring at the flat screen. Thinking about nonsense, just trying to feed your mind.
“Y/N,” Hotch began, hint of a break in his voice. You looked over at him. He had sweat beaming on his forehead. “You… you said earlier that you would help me in whatever way you could?”
You nodded, “Of course, Hotch. I’m here to please.”
His skin tingled. The innocent look behind your eyes pushing him even more on edge. He was silently opening and closing his mouth. Brows netted together as he breathed heavy. Tension so thick in the room neither of you could catch your breath.
“This is so inappropriate,” he softly chuckled to himself, stretching his neck, voice not above a whisper. Feeling your own heartbeat pound out of your chest. Hotch sighed, “I need to cum.”
Your eyes flew harshly open. Lips parting as you attempting to respond to him. Face immediately flushing with arousal as you clinched around nothing. Eyes shooting down to his crotch. Surprised to see the outline of his cock pressing against his pants. Thin, soft material not hiding his length.
“Either you can help me, or I need you to leave the room so I can handle it myself,” Hotch quickly said, desperation on his tone.
“Do you… want… me to-to help?” You shyly questioned.
Hotch smiled with an exhale. Perfect teeth on display for the first time tonight as he closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the couch. Blinking open to lock into you, “Yes.”
Such a simple statement. Causing so much confusion inside you. Of course, you had been flirting back and forth for some time now. And yes the idea of seeing Hotch’s cock, especially how it fit in your hand, had your body tingling.
But what about work?
What would your coworkers say? What would your superiors say? What if this was only for tonight?
You threw caution to the wind. Choosing to have some fun with him, even if you never spoke of this again.
You crawled closer to him on the couch, Hotch’s arm wrapping around your back when you sat on your knees. One of his hands coming up to grip at your t-shirt. Pulling the collar down with his finger and looking down it. Smiling at the sight of your lightly covered breasts. Blushing at how natural his hands felt on you. Leaning in to place your lips on his neck. Breath hitching in his throat at the soft feeling.
“Did you do this with all the other girls?” You asked between kisses, genuine curiosity and a bit of shame taking over your senses.
“Of course not,” Hotch exhaled, “You know it’s only you.”
You kissed up his jugular, resting along his jawline. Hotch’s smile never left his face as you feathered your lips along his skin. Hand running strong fingers up and down your back. Your own hand gently ghosting down his front to rest on his hard cock.
Hotch’s body twitched, causing him a small amount of pain. Wincing as he squinted his eyes. “I’m so sorry—“
“Don’t be,” Hotch’s hand came up to cup your cheek. Pulling you into a passionate kiss. Lightning stimulated your nerves at his taste and feeling. Both of you humming together. Tongue slipping past your lips as it grazed your teeth. Hunger apparent by the way he held onto you. Smiling as you became overwhelmed with emotions.
“What?” Hotch asked, unable to stop himself from returning your expression. Cheeks glowing.
“I just… just wanna know what’s got you all worked up?” pressing your lips back to his as your hand outlines his shaft. Hotch’s throat tightened at your touch. Breathy and clingy.
“I’ve been locked up here, not even a second of alone time, for weeks. And when you have nothing else to do, your mind wanders. And mine kept going to the same place time and time again,” toothy grin taking over his expression as he continuing caressing your face.
You cocked an eyebrow at him, not saying anything back.
“You’re going to tell me you don’t masturbate?” Hotch chuckled, an offensive hint on his tone.
Your face flooded red as you remembered the last time you had. Remembering the image of Hotch’s body above yours, strong arms flexing on either side of your head, hips pumping into yours as he held eye contact.
“I… um— yeah, I do. I have a vibrator in my night stand,” you kissed him again. Loving how his shaft hardened against your touch.
“Hmm,” he hummed against your lips, “Wish you’d brought it with you.”
“Hotch,” you giggled, playful embarrassment in your voice.
“I know you look so pretty when you orgasm,” Hotch smiled between kisses. Your heart thumped in your chest. Overwhelmed in the best way possible. Fingers continuing to lightly rub against his length.
“Probably really pretty with your mouth around my cock too,” Hotch’s hand held onto the back of your head. Keeping your mouth against his.
“God- you are needing aren’t you?” You chuckled into his mouth. The two of you shared in making flirtatious noises. Continuing to latch onto one another’s mouths. Slowly sliding into the floor between his legs. Fluttering your lashes up at him as you leaned forward to play with his waistband.
“Please,” Hotch squinted his eyes closed. Jaw tensed and Adam’s apple bobbing.
Slowly, you helped raise his hips so that you could pull his sweatpants down his legs. Taking your time to make sure he did not have to overwork his body. Mouth watering when you saw the tent pitched in his boxer-briefs. Flattening your hands against his thighs, framing his cock.
Hotch’s hand tethered in your hair, lust blown eyes admiring you below him. Moaning when your lips pressed a kiss against his clothed member. Freeing his cock from its confides. Taking in all the details. Thick and swollen, vein running over the top side as his head leaked. Tongue licking a stripe up the underside.
Hotch rutted forward, moaning loudly as he gripped the couch for stability. Head leaned forward to watch you. Your hand gripped him at the base. Stroking upward with a twist of your wrist. Thumb swiping over the slit to collect the precum. Loving how his velvety skin felt in your palm.
Tender lips kissed along his shaft before sucking on the head.
“Oh my God,” Hotch groaned. Trying his hardest to not move. Not wanting to take away from the pleasure by causing himself pain. His brows upturned and jaw hung open as he watched you go lower onto him.
Stopping when your nose met the soft hair at his base. Gagging around him momentarily. Taste of him overwhelming any other sense you had. Your tongue flattened underneath him as you began to bob. Almost completely coming off him before going down again.
“So good,” Hotch praised breathlessly. Causing your own arousal to pool inside you. Wishing you could crawling into his lap and take his cock inside you. Knowing his body was in no shape for that kind of physical activity.
Having him squirm from your mouth would have to do for now.
Hotch looked so beautiful with his face all flushed and shoulders heaving. Chest rapidly rising and falling as he audibly breathed. Your hand came up to wrap around his base once more, allowing your lips to meet your fingers with each movement. Causing you to move much faster than before.
“Y/N,” Hotch moaned.
Feeling his cock twitch between your lips. His end was nearing. Continuing at the pace you had given him. Sloppy sounds coming from your mouth as your tongue swirled around his length.
“I’m close,” Hotch breathed out. His veins on his neck poking out as he strained back. Sounds of him whimpering and grunting was like music to your ears. Salty taste filling your mouth as he approached his finish. Twisting your wrist and going down further on him. Coaxing him to his end.
Hotch’s hand gripped the back of your hand with strong fingers as he came. Breath hitching in his throat as his jaw hung open. Looking down to watch you swallow the ropes of cum he shot into your mouth. Hand traveling down to caress your cheek when he was done. Thumb rubbing circles into your flushed cheeks.
You caught your breath as you doed your eyes up at him. Smiling as you rested your head into his hand. Licking your lips to get any remnants of him off your face.
Hotch patted the seat beside him. Instructing you to come sit with him once more. You rested your head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your lower back. Grateful lips kissing your head.
Finding a position that was comfortable for you both as you rested your eyes. Engulfed by his body heat and musk. His heartbeat thumped against your ear. The day catching up with you as you relaxed.
“We can go lay in bed,” Hotch softly suggested.
You nodded. Standing to your feet to help him up. Shuffling down the hallway as Hotch limped holding onto you. Walking him over to his large mattress. Hotch smiled up at you, fingers holding onto your hand as you stood in front of him. Looking like a lovesick fool before you. Causing you to blush because it was you that had him looking like that. Smiling wider than you had ever seen him.
“Are you sure… that you want me in here? If you’d rest better, I can go—“
“Don’t even try,” Hotch grinned, pulling your hand to his lips and gently kissing. Tugging you into the bed with him. Landing directly beside him. Giggling as you snuggled under the blanket with him. Hotch’s lips kissed every piece of skin he could. Coating you in his love.
“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten,” Hotch’s lips finally found yours. Smiling with a soft chuckle ending his sentence.
“Glad I could help,” you scrunched your nose up with a smile. His hand caressed your cheek again, dark eyes scanning your entire face. Seeing you this close for one of the first times. Finally taking the time to look at every freckle, blemish, scar, or any other beauty mark you had. Never having had someone look at you the way he was now.
Your eyes were growing heavy. Blinking slowly until a yawn came over you. Rolling over to allow Hotch to hold you from behind. Closing your eyes as the plush of his pillows captured you.
His hand snaked around your front. Causing your chest to tighten when you felt him prying at your shorts. His nose trailed the valley of your neck and shoulder. Fingers going down the front of your panties.
“Aaron…?“
“Let me repay you,” Hotch whispered into your ear.
“You don’t owe me anything,” you sighed when his fingertips swiped over your sensitive bud.
“If I can’t fuck you, let me make you cum around my fingers,” Hotch’s deep voice vibrated into your skin. Fingers finding their way into your soaked folds. Circling them before inserting one. Causing you to arch into him and moan. A hum of approval came from him.
Curling his finger inside you as he massaged your insides. Thumb pressing into your clit. Shooting electricity through your veins. Your hand coming up to tangle in his hair. Locks lacing through your fingers. Your jaw hung open at the feeling of him adding an additional digit. Stretching you perfectly.
“Aaron,” you moaned, Hotch held your hand above your head. Fingers gently interlocking with yours while the air from his lips casted across your skin.
“Go ahead, I want to hear you,” Hotch kissed your shoulder.
You moaned at his words.
“Oh, pretty girl,” he cooed.
That familiar knot was tightening in your lower half. Hotch knew how to use his fingers. Causing your thighs to quiver and body to jolt. Sounds of him breathing filling your ears, sounding intoxicated by you. Never wanting you to leave his side.
You felt your pussy clench around his fingers. Insides growing more and more sensitive when he would hit the spongy spots.
“Are you gonna cum for me?”
You nodded aggressively. Whining as you rolled your hips against his fingers. Feeling his semi-hard cock press into your ass. Sweat dripped down your skin. Your heartbeat was in your ears as you felt your orgasm washing over you. Walls fluttering around Hotch’s fingers. Moaning his name like a mantra. Grinding down on his hand as your thighs shook.
Hotch smiled against your skin. Loving how you sounded begging and calling out to him. Wishing he could fuck you senseless. Wanting nothing more than to fill you up.
“I knew you’d look pretty orgasming,” lips kissed your cheek. You breathed heavily, grinning at his cocky voice. Rolling over to press your lips into his. Arms wrapping around his neck. Finally finding yourself the most comfortable you had been yet.
Drifting to sleep in his arms.
~~~
[END]
// Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate all the love I’ve gotten since writing for Hotch and love seeing everyone reply and comment and everything! As always, my requests are open! I have a Rossi x Reader planned in the next few days that was requested so keep an eye out for that! //
{tags}
@bondwithme-murderstyle ~ @mrs-ssa-hotch ~ @cherriready ~ @khxna ~ @justyourusualash ~ @boybandbaby ~ @hoffmanfan13 ~ @megangovier
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#thomas gibson#thomas gibson x reader#writing#fanfic#sexymonsterfics
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