#he’s so smitten with him i cannot

[janceezer]

what’s driving me crazy is viktor’s intonation:

(in season 2 act 3, but ofc there’s more)

„only you” (can show me this) and he says it in the softest possible way, in some sort of wonder, a deep sense of longing that leaves him almost breathless. almost as if he’s holding back tears. the way the pitch changes halfway, and we can’t see his face in that moment but i bet: some look that had a disbelieving raw and honest look of affection on it.

„jayce” (i wasn’t sure i’d get to speak with you again) and he sounds relieved to hear his voice again, having been separated for far too long. seeing him alive, that he’s safe… wanting to show him his breakthroughs, by inviting jayce to visit him..missing how they shared breakthroughs. the LONGING in his voice…

these are all the more reason for me personally to interpret them as romantic, because I’d fall to my knees if someone spoke to me this way. (other interpretations still valid ofc)

[jils-things]

UUWAAAAGWWAUGH

[hauntingofhouses]

mizutaigen is literally like. the first "toxic" m/f ship i've ever cared for. cuz like usually my taste in m/f ships is basically "unhinged baddie" x "badass wifeguy" *

* (see:yen/geralt. trevor/sypha. adolin/shallan. kataang but katara is sane and they're literally so wholesome like theyre traumatised kids in love who are each other's emblem of hope in a war-torn world! so basically they don't count. anyway. i'm rambling.)

and to that end my friend called mizutaigen yaoi-adjacent and im like. yeah you're right actually cuz like hell yeah non-binary mizu and bisexual taigen rights and all the gender fuckery in the show in general

but also like.

theres just SOMETHING else about mizutaigen that just GETS me. like there's a special secret sauce like the pheromones in that one sephora lotion attracting spiders and i am the silly spider!!! there's just something about it!!! it's not even the enemies to lovers trope cuz i personally am not even usually into that (obv it's fine if you are. but yk.)

so as i keep rotating these thoughts around i thiiink it's the fact that, yknow, theyre so similar. like i honestly truly think they could be besties in another universe: a kinder universe where taigen was not taught to hate. a universe where mizu was not born a girl in a deeply misogynistic society or half-white in a xenophobic homogeneous society.

yeah now that i think about it that really just might be THE secret sauce!!! like the fact that they COULD be perfect and happy together, if only things were different, if only they werent themselves.

smth v bittersweet about that's just driving me insane and makes me want to root for them to overcome all those obstacles, to say "fuck all that" (re:the world and all its fucked up shit) and find each other in the end. to eventually become each other's fav person and confidant. who obv still bicker and tease and insult each other all the time but they dont really mean any of it and over time it just becomes a running gag between them and no one else has to get it because it's just between the two of them.

[shmowder]

The urge to headcanon every pathologic character as aroallo is getting harder to resist each day

They'd each fall differently on the Aversed/Neutral/favoured spectrum for romance. Some would go for a relationship, and others would prefer a fwb situation. Some are poly by default while others prefer monogomy.

[lilyharvord]

I need people to understand that my hyperfixation ships are limited to one thing: a man who is usually in full control of himself meeting 1 woman and losing complete and utter control over absolutely everything he does.

I just like to watch when they go full feral for a woman who could literally chew them up and spit them out, but choses to let them stick around because I don't know, it's nice to have someone carrying their bag or whatever.

[ranvwoop]

Nico is also preoccupied with the horrors of growing up but in a different way. He's also ""Functional Adult"" when the gang r in highschool as Ethan's cool hot college boyfriend. They are not dating.

[cheftsunoda]

grid kids or cupids?— mv1

smau + written blurbs

max verstappen x !driver reader

2025 rookies x !platonic driver reader

your ex cheated. you dumped him. simple, clean, no tears—just a block, a race win, and an innocent instagram post. you are over it. but your rookies? not so much.

somehow, they’ve formed a secret matchmaking club and are now trying to set you up with half the grid. you know. max knows. (he’s your very smitten, very amused boyfriend.) but neither of you say a word.

because watching them try? is way too entertaining.

fc : luvstruck on ig (love a tattooed baddie as a face claim)

original request is here.

(a/n) : this was so much fun for me. i hope you all enjoy! love youuuu

—

yourusername

liked by kimi.antonelli, olliebearman, isackhadjar and 4,550,700 others.

yourusername : his loss.

—

view 285,003 other comments.

username000 : did she finally leave that ugly demonic man?????

liked by yourusername

↳ username1 : oh thank god. we got our baddie back🙏🏻

liked by yourusername

yourbff : man just couldn’t handle having a baddie. the funny thing is he can’t watch the race without seeing your name or face 😏

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : he shall never know peace.

liked by yourbff

yoursister : i can hear the streets callin’🧏‍♀️

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : call me pluto cuz im alr in them

liked by yoursister

↳ yoursister : where are your children? its rare i make it here before they do.

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : oh they will be here within like the next 10 seconds

liked by yoursister

↳ olliebearman : heyyyy so what’s his address? so i can send a hitman.

liked by yoursister, yourbff and yourusername

isackhadjar : if i see that man IT IS ON SIGHT.

liked by yourusername

lando : if i were him id never leave the house ever again, not just because of the 6 angry children at my door but just out of sheer embarrassment from what i fumbled.

liked by yourusername

kimi.antonelli : im small but i can bite ankles. he is a dead man. im going to kill him

liked by yourusername

gabrielbortoleto_ : yn i cannot handle these vague captions. pls answer the group chat. im spiraling and about to hire someone to do horrible things.

liked by yourusername

↳ isackhadjar : i feel sick to my stomach.

liked by yourusername

↳ olliebearman : i just threw up

liked by yourusername

↳ kimi.antonelli : i am pacing

liked by yourusername

↳ jackdoohan : just threw my phone across the room

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : guys, im fine. truly. it was for the best. i will call you all later!

↳ kimi.antonelli : yn did he hurt you?? i destroy his entire bloodline

↳ isackhadjar : stop lying. you are ignoring our texts. you never do.

↳ olliebearman : ok well he hurt you so we will just find him and kill him. its all taken care of

↳ gabrielbortoleto_ : cannot believe you are just ghosting your six emotionally unstable children.

username07 : the rookies falling apart in the comments while yn is unfazed is taking me OUT.

alex_albon : he peaked in high school and drives a toyota 💀 and now fumbled an f1 driver…him being him is punishment enough

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : i can’t with you 💀

oscarpiastri : absolutely no clue what happened but i instantly take your side. he is a dick.

liked by yourusername

alexandrasaintmleux : he fumbled so i could have you😇

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : mmm yes gimme (making grabby hands at you)

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

olliebearman : yn we are coming over

↳ kimi.antonelli : you let us in or we break the door down

↳ yourusername : im sure that breaking and entering is already somewhere on oliver’s crime list so lets not add to it. come on over kids.

↳ gabrielbortoleto_ : YAYYYYYYYY

↳ jackdoohan : on my way! (already outside of your apartment)

↳ isackhadjar : i have been sitting in the hallway since this was posted.

↳ yourusername : get in here🙄

username15 : these kids love their grid mum 🤧

—

flashback

You hadn’t expected the night to end in a breakup. But maybe you should’ve.

It started with his phone—left unlocked, screen facing up, buzzing like a warning. You hadn’t meant to look. But you did. A message preview lit up like a punch to the chest.

last night was the best;) miss you already xx

You didn’t open it. You didn’t need to. The way your stomach dropped told you everything you weren’t ready to admit.

You sat there for a few seconds, staring at the screen. His voice filtered in from the bathroom—some off-key humming, clueless and careless. It made you feel numb. Or maybe free. You weren’t sure which yet.

When he walked back in, grinning like he still had you, you held the phone up.

“You should really be more careful with your passwords,” you said calmly.

His expression dropped. “Babe, it’s not what it looks like—”

“It looks like you’re sleeping with someone who isn’t me.”

You didn’t yell. Didn’t cry. Didn’t even let him finish his half-assed explanation. You just grabbed your heels, your pride, and your keys, and walked out the door like it owed you nothing.

You texted your girls on the way out.

club. now. i finally left the bum.

By midnight, you were wrapped in black mesh and revenge-red lipstick.

The bass vibrated through your bones, and the margarita in your hand burned in the best way. Your friends were already dancing like the world was ending, and for the first time in months, you felt alive.

And then you saw him. Max.

Standing at the bar with a half-finished drink and that usual unreadable expression—until he looked up and saw you.

His eyes flicked over you once, slow and deliberate, before his lips curled into the smallest smirk. He lifted his drink in silent acknowledgment, and you raised your brow like, Don’t test me. But he didn’t walk away.

No, he walked toward you—unhurried, completely sure of himself, like he’d been waiting for you to show up all night.

“You good?” he asked, leaning in just enough to be heard over the music.

You shrugged, grinning. “Better than ever.”

He studied you for a second longer. “You look free. Like you finally let go of that one thing that was dragging you down.”

You met his gaze head-on. “Maybe I did. But I don’t regret it.”

Something about your voice—clear, certain, maybe a little dangerous—made him nod slowly. Like he knew that version of you. Like he’d met her before in himself.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just offered his hand. “Come dance with me.”

And God help you, you said yes. One song bled into another, and suddenly you were dancing like your skin was on fire, like the world couldn’t touch you anymore. Max wasn’t just keeping up—he matched you. Step for step, stare for stare, like the two of you spoke the same language in a rhythm only you could hear.

You didn’t remember leaning in. You didn’t remember whose hand touched whose waist first.

But you do remember the way his lips brushed yours, soft and warm and slow at first—like he was asking a question. And how you answered with a kiss that tasted like tequila and freedom.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, Max just looked at you with that same amused smirk and said, “Definitely his loss.”

You laughed. You weren’t just fine. You were starting over.

—

The sunlight hit your face before the memory did. Warm. Gentle. Relentless.

You blinked a few times, groggy and still wrapped in that heavy limbed softness that comes from too many drinks and not enough regrets. The room smelled faintly of something distinctly Max—clean, expensive, and just a little smug.

You rolled over. He was already awake.

Lying there, one arm folded behind his head, chest bare, the sheets dangerously low on his hips. His other hand held his phone, which he casually tossed aside when he noticed you looking.

“Morning,” he said, voice rough, sleepy.

You groaned into the pillow. “Tell me we didn’t do something stupid.”

Max tilted his head. “Define stupid.”

Your eyes narrowed. He smiled.

“We danced,” he said. “You kissed me. Twice. And then you tried to start a debate about tire compounds in the elevator.”

You winced. “Sounds like me.”

He laughed under his breath, that low rumble sending a shiver down your spine.

“But no,” he added, softer this time. “You were upset. So I brought you back here. You changed into my shirt, stole all the covers, and fell asleep with your face in my shoulder.”

You blinked. “I didn’t kiss you again?”

He hesitated. “You almost did. Then you said something about how ‘this doesn’t count when you’re drunk’ and knocked out cold.”

You groaned again. “God. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, without missing a beat. “It was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

You looked over at him, eyes soft. “You sure? I was kind of a mess.”

Max shrugged. “You were real. That’s what I want to see.”

For a second, the air stilled between you. No jokes. No tension. Just quiet understanding. You’d kissed him the night before thinking it was a one time thing—sparked by adrenaline, tequila, and heartbreak. But lying here now, in his bed, wearing his shirt and breathing in his space.

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow. “So… breakfast?”

You blinked. “You’re offering to feed me now?”

“I’m offering to bribe you with pancakes so you don’t ghost me later.”

You smirked, climbing out of bed and grabbing your phone.

“I don’t ghost,” you said, pausing by the door. “But fair warning—once I post a thirst trap, our children are going to lose their minds.”

Max grinned, already reaching for his shirt. “Perfect. Let them panic.”

And as you headed to the bathroom, still wearing nothing but his t-shirt and a smirk, you realized something—You really, really didn’t miss your ex.

—

present day

It’s been a few weeks since that night. Since tequila and heartbreak and Max Verstappen.

You’ve seen him a few times since then—quiet dinners in hotel rooms, lingering handholds between debriefs, shared glances across the paddock that made your stomach flip like a rookie on their debut lap. It’s easy, exciting, safe in the strangest way. No pressure, no labels.

And somehow, for once, no noise. Just the two of you, figuring it out behind closed doors. Which is exactly why you should’ve known that post would send the entire grid into DEFCON 1. Because you barely have time to finish brushing your teeth when it sounds like your whole front door is being broken down.

You freeze, toothbrush halfway to your mouth. Then—

DING DING DING DING.

“YN OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW.”

You peek through the peephole. And there they are. All six of them. Kimi. Ollie. Isack. Jack. Franco. Gabriel.

Every last one of them in complete disarray. Jack’s hair is still wet. Gabriel’s holding a box of oreo’s, one stuffed into his mouth. Franco has absolutely no shoes on.

You blink. “Good morning?”

“You can’t just post that and disappear,” Ollie blurts.

“Disrespectful,” Franco agrees. “Honestly rude.”

“You owe us answers,” Jack adds, pushing inside like this is a crime scene. “Did he cheat? Did you dump him? Do I need to start training for violence?”

“I’m already in shape for violence,” Isack mutters.

“I brought Oreo’s,” Gabriel says, holding them up as a gift of peace.

Kimi just crosses his arms and stares you down. “What happened.”

You close the door behind them and sigh.

“Nothing crazy,” you say, voice steady. “I found out he wasn’t who I thought he was. So I ended it.”

You head to the kitchen and start making coffee. Like this isn’t the opening scene of a Netflix special where the 2025 F1 Rookies begin a manhunt.

“But… are you okay?” Franco asks gently.

You turn and smile. “Honestly? I’m great. It’s probably the healthiest decision I’ve made in years.”

Kimi leans against the counter. “You don’t have to be fine right now, you know.”

You sip your coffee and shrug. “I am fine. Genuinely. I don’t miss him. There’s nothing to cry over.”

There’s a beat of silence. Six sets of eyes narrow, exchanging looks like they’ve rehearsed this. You can feel the shift in the air. The whisper of an unspoken plan forming. But no one says it. No one says “we’re going to find you someone better.” No one says “we’ve already made a list.”

Instead, Gabriel sits beside you. “Okay. Well, if you’re fine… we’re still staying for brunch.”

“Obviously,” Franco says.

“Non-negotiable,” Isack adds.

Ollie leans forward, fake-casual. “So… no one new in the picture yet?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you taking attendance for my love life now?”

He shrugs. “Just making conversation.”

You laugh. “Well, no. There’s nothing to report. I’m enjoying being single.”

Half-true. You take another sip of coffee and hide your smirk. They all nod slowly. Quiet. Suspicious. Too quiet.

Gabriel’s already texting someone under the table. Jack’s typing into his Notes app. Franco looks like he’s trying to remember every eligible man on the grid. Kimi is definitely plotting a background check. You say nothing.

Because letting them believe you’re freshly single, emotionally vulnerable, and in need of saving? Is way too fun to correct.

—

The brunch was meant to be a quick thing. A little comfort, a little check-in, maybe a pastry or two.

But somewhere between the third round of pancakes and Kimi yelling at Jack for putting ketchup on eggs, it turned into something else.

You knew you were doomed the moment Ollie declared, mouth full of toast.

“You’re not allowed to be alone today. We’re going with you.”

You’d laughed. Thought it was a joke. But now it’s two hours later, and they’re all still here. You walk into the training facility like usual, hoodie up, bag slung over your shoulder, calm and collected. Behind you? Six men trailing in a chaotic single file like toddlers on a leash.

Gabriel’s rapidly texting on his phone. Franco’s wearing sunglasses indoors. Jack’s humming. Isack is trying to arm wrestle Kimi mid walk. Ollie keeps speed walking ahead of you, then backpedaling like a mall cop on edge.

“You guys don’t actually have to stay,” you say for the fifth time, mildly exasperated.

“Yes, we do,” Ollie insists. “What if your ex tries to talk to you again?”

“I blocked him.”

“What if he makes a burner account?”

“I blocked five burner accounts.”

Kimi snorts. “I told you she’s too smart for him.”

Isack stretches like he’s preparing for a UFC match. “Still. You’re emotionally delicate right now.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m emotionally fine.”

“She’s in denial,” Jack whispers. “Classic phase two.”

You groan, swiping your pass at the entrance and holding the door open for your band of feral ducklings.

—

You’re halfway through your warm-up laps when it happens. You jog around the corner of the facility and pass by a small group of guys—some local trainers and junior athletes. You nod politely at them, earbuds in, barely noticing.

But they notice you. One of them—tall, maybe twenty-five—stares for a second too long. Not creepy. Just curious. And apparently, that’s enough to start World War III. Because from across the room, you hear a voice yell.

“HEY. EYES UP, BRO. THAT’S MY MOM.”

You stop in your tracks. Spin around. Ollie is storming toward the guy with a hand on his chest like he’s about to deliver the sermon of the year.

The poor guy looks so confused. “I—what?”

“She’s a national treasure,” Ollie says, dead serious. “You don’t ogle national treasures.”

You jog back over, cheeks already burning from embarrassment. “Ollie. He just wanted an autograph.”

“No he didn’t.”

“Yes. He’s holding a pen.”

The guy timidly raises his hand. “I just wanted to say hi. I’m a fan.”

Ollie glares. You sigh and pat the fan on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I appreciate it.”

Behind you, Isack leans toward Franco. “Should we start screening everyone she interacts with?”

“Already doing it,” Franco says, typing something into his phone. “I have a form.”

—

By mid-afternoon, they’ve followed you to recovery. Then to the simulator. Then back to your place, where they claim they’re “just checking your locks.” Kimi installs a door camera. Jack offers to sleep on your couch. Gabriel keeps offering to cook for you.

Every time you so much as look at your phone, someone leans over your shoulder.

Ollie squints, head on my shoulder. “Who’s that?”

You sigh and chuckle. “My nutritionist.”

Franco looks up at you. “Okay. What’s his intention?”

”My nutrition.”

Eventually, you collapse onto the couch, arms folded, finally fed up.

“Guys,” you say flatly, “I’m not a baby deer in a storm. I am fine. No one needs to be screened. I don’t need a 24-hour security team. And I definitely don’t need—”

Ding. Your phone lights up. A message from Max.

You alive or are they still holding you hostage?

You smile at the screen—just a little. Just enough for Isack to notice.

He leans forward. “Who was that.”

“Just… a friend.”

Six heads whip around.

“WHO.”

You roll your eyes and stand. “I’m going to shower. Please, for the love of god, do not follow me.”

They groan like they’re being abandoned on a battlefield. And as you shut the bathroom door behind you, you hear Jack whisper.

“We need to escalate. Operation Boyfriend starts now.”

—

f1gossipgirls

785,090 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Mercedes driver YN LN made her first paddock appearance since her rumored breakup — and if anyone’s heartbroken, it’s definitely not her. Looking radiant and unbothered, she was welcomed with a big hug from teammate Kimi Antonelli and closely tailed by Isack Hadjar, who appeared glued to her side all day.

The real kicker? Her full squad of rookie ducklings followed her everywhere — from the garage to the grid walk to the drivers parade, forming what can only be described as a personal security detail (or cult? unclear). But we love this new and radiant Grid Mum! 

—

view 185,090 other comments.

username000 : kimi hugging her like a baby koala was not on my 2025 bingo card but i’ll take it

username00 : ollie: “she doesn’t need us” also ollie: breathing down the neck of anyone who looks at her for more than 0.2 seconds 😭

username0 : franco, gabriel, jack, ollie, kimi, and isack acting like sons to a woman only a few years older than them… peak formula 1 content

username1 : Grid Mum is such an accurate title like they would all FOLLOW HER INTO BATTLE 😭

username5 : i’ve never been more proud of a woman i’ve never met in my LIFE. she won. she’s glowing. she has six rookies as her army. iconic behavior only.

—

The date with Carlos was scheduled with precision.

Ollie booked the restaurant himself, despite forgetting to ask whether you were allergic to seafood. Isack made a shared Google Doc of outfit suggestions. Franco literally coached Carlos on what not to say during the car ride there. Gabriel told you to “just act natural,” which was rich coming from someone who panics ordering coffee.

Carlos, for his part, handled it like a champ.

“You know they sent me a PDF,” he tells you, raising an eyebrow as the waiter pours wine.

You blink. “A PDF?”

He nods, fighting a smile. “Title was ‘So You Think You Can Date YN.’”

You nearly choke on your water. “I swear to God.”

He grins. “Very detailed. They had a whole section on things not to mention. Like your ex. Or 2019 qualifying in Monaco.”

“Fair,” you say, smirking.

To his credit, Carlos is very good at this. Charming, confident, a little teasing, but never pushy. He asks about your training, your favorite circuits, the meaning behind the small tattoo on your wrist. He compliments your eyes like he means it.

And for a second, you let yourself lean into it. Until you spot them. Behind Carlos, tucked into a booth near the corner?

The Ducklings.

Poorly disguised in sunglasses, hoodies, and baseball caps—like a weird boyband on the run.

Jack has a menu held upside down. Gabriel is clearly filming on his phone. Ollie is wearing a fake moustache. Franco waves when you make eye contact. Kimi sits with his arms crossed like a bodyguard. And Isack’s just… staring at Carlos. Like he wants to  wrestle him across the table.

You bite back a laugh. Carlos follows your gaze, glancing over his shoulder. He turns back, grinning.

“Should we tell them I saw them an hour ago?”

“No,” you say, sipping your wine. “Let them have their fun.”

He raises his glass. “To the worst spies in F1 history.”

—

You don’t know how they convinced Pierre to do this. Maybe it was Franco’s charm. Maybe it was the rookie group chat descending into madness after “Carlos Date Day.” Or maybe Pierre’s just here for the chaos, as always.

Either way, here you are. Dress. Dinner. Dim lighting. And Pierre, in an offensively good shirt, holding out a chair like he was born for this.

“I must say,” he smirks, “the moment they approached me with the idea, I said finally. Someone’s letting me take the prettiest driver on the grid out.”

You snort. “Do you use that line often?”

He grins, absolutely unapologetic. “Only when it’s true.”

You sit, trying not to smile too much. The restaurant is all low lighting and flickering candles—Pierre’s choice, obviously. He orders a bottle of wine in French, and the waiter actually blushes. You already regret letting Franco be in charge of the location.

“So,” you say, narrowing your eyes playfully, “what did the Ducklings promise you?”

“Ah,” he leans back dramatically, “they said if I sweep you off your feet, I get Kimi’s sim time for the month.”

You blink. “That’s… weirdly generous.”

“I know.” He raises his glass. “They’re getting desperate.”

You clink. “They are insane.”

“Insanely devoted to you,” he corrects.

You pause. Let that sit. Because he’s not wrong. And that’s when you spot them. The Ducklings. At it again.

Ollie and Isack behind the wine rack. Kimi pretending to be a server with an apron and a scowl. Jack crouching behind a decorative plant that is way too small. Gabriel and Franco sitting two tables over with fake menus covering their faces, whispering like spies.

You sigh into your wine. “They are so bad at hiding.”

Pierre glances over, raises an eyebrow, and smirks. “Should we give them something to talk about?”

You lean forward, amused. “Like what?”

He doesn’t answer. Just raises a brow and slowly reaches across the table to take your hand, smooth and steady. In the background, someone gasps audibly. Definitely Isack. Pierre doesn’t flinch.

“They need to believe I’m a threat,” he says lowly, thumb brushing your knuckles. “Otherwise, what’s the fun?”

You shake your head, trying not to laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“I’m French,” he says with a wink. “Same thing.”

—

over with the rookies…

“HE’S HOLDING HER HAND. HE’S HOLDING HER HAND.” Ollie panics into his little earpiece.

Isack sighs. “Deploying emotional damage protocol. Permission to interfere?”

Kimi sets the glass of water down at the table he is pretending to serve. “Negative. We observe. We do not assassinate.”

Gabriel smiles from behind the menu. “She just looks so pretty. I wouldn’t be able to let go either.”

Franco starts panicking and fanning himself with said menu. “Guys. She’s smiling.”

Jack puts his head down. “It’s Carlos all over again. This is a spiral.”

Ollie face palms. “I told you we should’ve gone with Alex first. He would’ve been soft. Safe. Pierre has an agenda.”

—

Pierre’s still holding your hand when you laugh—genuine and loud and a little tipsy. The date has been fun, even if it feels like an elaborate school play. He’s charming, flirty, just the right amount of dangerous. But still…

Not the one who sent you a photo of your coffee order this morning. Not the one who smirks every time the rookies panic. Not the one who hasn’t stopped texting you versions of “good luck surviving them” all day.

You finish dessert—chocolate tart and rookie glares—and stand with Pierre as the waiter brings the bill. He leans close, lips brushing your cheek.

“Merci, chérie,” he murmurs, warm and quiet. “This was fun.”

And it was. But the second you step outside and the rookies swarm you, dramatic as ever—

Ollie checks you over quickly, holding your arms. “ARE YOU OKAY? DID HE POISON YOU WITH COMPLIMENTS?”

Isack rushes over, out of breath. “DO YOU HAVE EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH??”

Gabriel reaches up and brushes your hair. “Did he touch your hair???”

You just laugh, shrugging them off as you walk to the car. Because even though Pierre was perfect on paper— He wasn’t Max. And maybe the rookies haven’t figured it out yet.

—

You were promised a casual night.

“Low pressure,” Gabriel said.

“Light-hearted,” Jack promised.

“Just Alex,” Franco winked. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Famous last words.  Because ten minutes into sitting across from Alex Albon at a cozy Thai restaurant — one he picked himself — you clock all six rookies sitting in a booth across the room in matching black hoodies like they’re in a rogue choir.

Alex leans in, smiling wide as he watches you clock them. “So. We’re ignoring the Secret Service detail?”

“Apparently,” you deadpan. “Their idea of ‘stealth’ is coordinated outfits and Jack holding a menu upside down.”

Alex chuckles, offering you a piece of spring roll with his chopsticks. “I’ll admit, I kind of love the chaos. Makes me feel like I’m in a sitcom.”

You grin, accepting it. “Is this their idea of soft-launching us?”

“Please,” Alex says, mock offended. “If I was soft-launching you, it’d be on a boat, golden hour lighting, maybe a quirky caption.”

You laugh out loud. Truth be told, this is the most normal of the “dates” so far. Alex is sweet, calm, and effortlessly funny. He talks to you like you’ve known each other for years. No pressure, no forced charm. Just vibing over pad see ew and Thai iced teas. Still, something’s… off. Not with him, exactly. Just… something.

—

duckling commentary…

Ollie whispers lowly. “Why is she laughing that hard? What did he say? I need a transcript.”

Isack squints. “She looks relaxed. TOO relaxed.”

Kimi shrugs. “He’s got soft energy. I’m not threatened.”

Franco sighs. “But what if she likes soft energy.”

Gabriel with a mouth full. “I like Alex. He’s soft. Like tofu.”

Jack moves the menu from his face. “I will literally flip this table if he touches her hand.”

—

back to you and mr. albon…

“You know,” Alex says, mid-bite, “I told them this was ridiculous. I said, ‘She’s not looking for someone. She’s got that look in her eye like she already found someone and hasn’t told them yet.’”

You go still.

He looks up at you. “Sorry—was that too much?”

You stare at him for a second.

And then: “No. That was… very on point.”

Alex smiles, a little softer now. “It’s not me, is it?”

You shake your head slowly. “No.”

He sits back, letting out a small breath. “Didn’t think so. Just wanted to be sure before I told Isack to stop plotting date number four.”

You laugh. Like full body laugh.

“God, they’re so intense.”

“They’re obsessed with you,” Alex says easily. “I get it. You’re kind of their mum. But also their queen. Their general. Their—”

“Duck wrangler.”

“Exactly.”

You sip your drink. “You’re handling this well.”

“I like being a decoy,” Alex shrugs. “Gives me a front row seat to the Max Verstappen Situation.”

You choke. “The what?”

He smirks. “Oh, come on. You don’t think we all saw him volunteer for the draft room? He showed up like he’d already won.”

You press your lips together. “It’s… complicated.”

“Is it?” Alex grins. “Because I think the only people who haven’t figured it out are the rookies. And honestly? I’m not telling them. Watching this slow unraveling is the best thing to happen to the paddock since Pierre got stuck in that bathroom in Baku.”

—

You and Alex step out of the restaurant into the night air, the six rookies immediately materializing from inside.

Isack approaches quickly. “Rate the date. Out of 10. Be honest.”

Ollie checks you over, again. “Did he hold you?”

Kimi crosses his arms. “I brought pepper spray in case things got weird.”

Gabriel sighs dramatically. “Alex, are you in love with her?”

Jack stares at you. “Was it mid?? Be real.”

Franco stares down Alex. “You better not hurt her or I’ll flatten you on the sidewalk.”

Alex just throws his hands up. “Guys. I’m literally the safe option. You picked me for vibe control.”

—

The place is quiet. Max picked a rooftop bar just outside the city — warm lights, open air, panoramic views, and most importantly—no cameras. Well. Except the ones hidden behind a concrete planter across the deck. You glance toward it and spot the very obvious outline of Ollie’s curly hair. You don’t even say anything. Max sees it too. He smirks.

“They really don’t know how to blend in, huh?”

“Nope.”

“I think he is wearing the fake mustache again.”

“I give them points for commitment.”

You clink your glasses together — you with a ginger beer, Max with something dark and still half-ignored — and settle into the kind of silence that feels earned, not awkward. The breeze lifts your hair slightly. His eyes follow the movement, just for a second.

“You’ve been humoring them,” he says after a while.

You glance at him. “You’ve been letting them spiral.”

He grins. “I don’t intervene in things I already won.”

Your heart does a thing. You sip your drink to cover it.

—

meanwhile at the rookie watchtower…

Jack smiles, looking satisfied. “Okay, we’re officially in the final boss round.”

Isack eyes the both of you. “Do we think he’s actually playing the game or just… winning by default?”

Gabriel shrugs. “He’s not even trying to flirt and it’s working. I hate it here.”

Ollie squints at Max. “He’s got that smug ‘I already kissed her’ look—”

Franco shrieks. “Wait. Has he???”

Kimi eyes all of the boys. “Do we interfere if tongues happen.”

All of them erupt. “YES.”

—

back with you and maxie…

Back at the table, Max leans forward slightly, eyes on you like he’s choosing every word carefully.

“I’m glad you let them do this.”

“Yeah?”

“Gave me a front-row seat to your smile. And their chaos. Win-win.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So what’s your plan? You know they’re watching.”

He shrugs. “Not here to impress them.”

“Oh?”

Max sets his drink down.

“I’m here to kiss you in front of them and end this game.”

You go still. Heart? Racing.

“You’re serious.”

He stands. Offers his hand. You take it. And then he pulls you in gently, tilting your chin up just enough, and kisses you like it’s not even a question anymore. Like it never was. Warm. Certain. Slow. Soft. And behind you—

“OH MY GOD.”

“THAT’S ILLEGAL.”

“THAT’S AGAINST THE RULES.”

You don’t even break the kiss until Max pulls back with a laugh, turning just slightly toward the human pile of rookies currently losing their minds behind a planter.

His arm stays looped around your waist.

“That’s against the rules!” Ollie yells again, hands flailing.

Max smirks. Shrugs.

“I don’t follow rules,” he says simply, “when she’s already mine.”

Jack screams into a napkin. 

Franco blinks in disbelief. “HE SAID WHAT—”

Isack looks like he is going to faint. “I NEED TO SIT DOWN.”

Gabriel clutching his chest. “I think I just blacked out.”

Kimi smirked. “I knew it. I KNEW IT.”

Ollie crumbles quickly. “They made us schedule a date with Alex when she was already WITH HIM—”

You turn toward Max, cheeks warm, heart light, still half-shocked and entirely melted.

“That was… dramatic.”

“Worth it.”

“You really planned to one-up the rookies?”

He grins. “No. I planned to end the game before they tried to match you with Lando.”

You laugh and kiss him again — brief, bright, completely yours. Alongside the two of you, six ducklings begin planning a joint wedding speech.

—

maxverstappen1

liked by gabrielbortoleto_, olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and 5,505,023 others.

maxverstappen1 : grid mom and dad making it official. love you, schat❤️

tagged : yourusername

—

view 250,000 other comments.

gabrielbortoleto_ : i feel like i found out santa isn’t real but also found out my parents are canceling the divorce on the same day.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ yourusername : idek what that means but okay my little ducky.

↳ gabrielbortoleto_ : im betrayed but overjoyed

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

francolapinto : mama y papa

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olliebearman : we scheduled dates. we made color-coded spreadsheets. we googled how to flirt respectfully. AND YOU WERE ALREADY KISSING.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ isackhadjar : i was ready to flatten pierre with my car for this woman. AND THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT ME???

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↳ jackdoohan : we booked a RESTAURANT. i WORE A COLLARED SHIRT. i told a waiter “it’s her big day.” for WHAT.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ gabrielbortoleto_ : i was her emotional support water bottle holder. do you know how much responsibility that is???

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ kimi.antonelli : i knew. i always knew. but i let the others spiral because it was funny.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ olliebearman : don’t even talk. i wrote her a DATING PROFILE. with bullet points.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ isackhadjar : they KISSED ON THE DATE I WAS HIDING BEHIND A PLANT FOR. i need financial compensation.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ olliebearman : HEY. i wore that itchy ass mustache four dates in a ROW.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ yourusername : i would trust you all with my life. just not my love life ❤️

—

bonus scene!

The checkered flag waves. You don’t even hear the roar of the crowd at first — not over the static-crackling voice of your race engineer, screaming so loud he’s probably broken something in the garage.

“P1! YN, that’s P1 — you did it! YOU BLOODY DID IT!”

You’re not breathing. Your hands are shaking around the wheel, your visor fogged slightly with heat and adrenaline. You let out a noise — somewhere between a yell and a laugh and a sob — and punch the air so hard you might’ve dislocated something. And then another voice cuts in. Kimi. Completely unprofessional. Totally euphoric.  “GRID MOM WINS. THE GRID MOM WON!!!”

You let out a laugh, heart racing, vision blurring. Your car rolls over the finish line and onto the cooldown lap, your fingers white-knuckled around the wheel.

By the time you’re climbing out of the car, the world is already screaming. Fans at the fence chant your name. The Mercedes crew is piling over the pit wall like lunatics.

You tear your helmet off and throw your arms in the air. You’ve barely taken a full breath when you’re tackled from the side — Kimi, jumping on you like a golden retriever with too much kinetic energy.

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU,” he yells, muffled by your shoulder.

“You got your first podium!” you laugh, hugging him just as tightly.

“And YOU WON. So, respectfully — I will get in line, this is your moment.”

He lets you go with one last enthusiastic pat on the back, and that’s when you see him.

Max. Standing a few paces away, helmet off, hair messy, eyes only on you.

The way he looks at you? Like you painted the sky.

He doesn’t rush you. Just walks forward with that calm, smug patience he always has — but when you meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around his neck and laughing into his shoulder, he lifts you slightly off the ground without hesitation.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says softly into your hair.

You pull back just enough to see his face. “Still think you let me win?”

He grins. “Only because you’re hot.”

The champagne sprays. The flashbulbs explode. The crowd is still roaring when Max steps off his podium block, strides across to you — and kisses you. It's not subtle. It's not quiet. It's a hard launch in high definition. He pulls back only slightly, curls his arm around your waist. Your eyes go wide, but you're already smiling. Laughing, even. You press your forehead to his and exhale one word through your grin.

“Dramatic.”

“Correct.”

But before either of you can bask in it for too long— CHAOS.

Suddenly, there’s yelling. Sprinting. A commotion behind the barriers. And then— A ROOKIE STAMPEDE.

Ollie is first. He launches himself up the side of the podium steps like it’s the final stage of Ninja Warrior. Franco and Gabriel follow, scaling like climbers on caffeine.

Jack does a running leap. Isack vaults the barrier with no regard for ankle safety. And Kimi, of course, simply walks up — nods at the FIA official like this is normal, and joins the crowd. They pile onto the podium. No one stops them. Security gives up. Fans are shrieking.

Franco hugs your waist and yells, “MY MOM WON!!”

Jack flings an arm around Max and shouts, “DAD HARD LAUNCHED! HISTORY HAS BEEN MADE!”

Ollie collapses onto the floor of the podium and moans, “I feel so emotionally unsafe right now, but I’m also so proud.”

Gabriel is taking selfies mid-hug.Isack is clinging to your arm like it’s the last flotation device on the Titanic.

Kimi sighed happily. “It was time. The people needed to know.”

And in the middle of it all, Max just throws an arm around your shoulders and says with a completely straight face. “These are our children now.”

—

Later that night, Max throws his phone on the hotel bed and flops down beside you, still smiling.

“I think we broke the Internet,” you murmur.

“I think we adopted six grown men.”

You laugh. “Worth it.”

He turns his head, grinning. “They love you, you know.”

“I know.”

You pause. “They love us.”

He kisses you again — soft this time, slow — and the world outside fades. For now, it’s just the two of you. And the six rookies already planning family brunch in the group chat.

—

[crescenthistory]

hi! i have this really cute idea for regulus x fem! reader. so reader is a animagus and it’s winter time so sometimes she’ll shift into a their animal form, preferably a cat, and goes seek out warmth. but reader is also besties with remus and knows he’s a werewolf, his body temperature runs a lot warmer then anyone else so she goes to room to cuddle. when that happens, regulus immediately knows they reader is with remus and, begrudgingly, goes to gryffindor to steal reader back.

when he gets there, sirius is pouring and complains to reggie that “your girlfriend is stealing my boyfriend” and regulus snaps back by saying “well your boyfriend is stealing my girlfriend” and reader and remus are amused but their bickering but don’t care.

anon. anon. i am giving you the BIGGEST kiss, you don't even know. this is perhaps the best idea i've seen in a while and so i love you. i will be thinking about this throughout all of winter, thank you.

Words: 3k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, references to previous black brothers angst, disgusting amounts of fluff, best friends can cuddle platonically regardless of gender i will fight you on this, background rosekiller and wolfstar, childhood best friend!remus, implied gryffindor!reader, sirius pretends to be jealous but is not

Note: read more about cat!animagus!reader's shenanigans with regulus, wolfstar and james in Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat & Padfoot vs. Whiskers

When Regulus accepted Sirius’ attempt to mend their relationship, he had expected to get his big brother back in full and no more. The person who understands him best, the boy he needed to lean on – it was all he wanted to get out of it. Perhaps he expected to have to grown tolerant of his brother’s friends, but that was something he dreaded, if he at all thought of.

What Regulus had not expected was to be introduced to and fall head over heels in love with you.

Remus’ childhood best friend, the more reserved one of the bunch that he had always seen floating around with them, but whose voice he had never had to roll his eyes at, thus never interacted with. It bewildered him now how he once upon a time barely thought of you, regarded you.

Now he knew you were delightful, and Regulus was positively smitten.

It had been exactly what Regulus had never thought he would get – an easy love. Like your friends, you were open and honest and loyal to the bone, and it spilled over like honey into your relationships with those around you. Once you caught a glance of his clearly lovestruck eyes, you melted, and the puddle was caught delicately in his hands.

Since then, that is where he has held you. In the palms of his hands, close to his heart. He learned more than he perhaps wanted to know about himself during the process of opening up to you, and you showed him a patience he still is not entirely certain he deserves. But you gave him your time, your moments, your touches and your lips, and he received and received without complaint.

When the two most important people in Regulus’ life – one a fervent, natural devotion, another a sassy, passionate rivalry – were in the same hazardous circle of loud-mouthed Gryffindor friends, he eventually had to capitulate that he could no longer just tolerate them. They were family.

God, what love has cost him.

Regulus walked into his dorm room where you have spent more days than not for the past few months, and sighed defeatedly when all he finds there is Barty laying on top of Evan in some odd position that cannot possibly be comfortable.

“Hello to you too, Black. Thrilling to see you.” Barty’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but there was no menace there as of yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Regulus grumbled as he threw his bookbag onto his bed and sat down. “You seen Y/N lately?”

“You mean since you were all snuggled up this morning? Nah.”

Regulus rolled his eyes painfully hard at his oldest friend, murmuring a soft sod off before tossing whatever was closest – his pyjama t-shirt – in Barty’s general direction, missing by a good metre. He is a seeker and not a chaser for a reason.

“What of it, Reg?” Evan mumbled, but it was distorted by Barty’s elbow being more or less shoved into his mouth. He could never sit still.

“Just figured she’d be here, ‘s all. She finished class before me.” Regulus falls down onto his bed, curls spilling onto the emerald sheets as he stares at the ceiling, picturing you there and then immediately kicking himself for being that down bad. Then reminding himself with the therapy-speech Sirius has been teaching him, love is a strength not a weakness, it’s good to feel your feelings. Yada yada. "It's been a long day."

“Maybe she got tired of your sorry ass.” Barty laughed at his own joke only to be smacked by Evan’s finally-freed hand.

“Or yours, you sod.”

“Nah, Treasure absolutely adores me.” Barty propped himself up to flash you both a grin. “See, unlike you, I’m fun.”

“Interesting word to substitute insufferable with.” Evan said, leaning his face up from underneath Barty, as if to intimidate him.

“You love me,” Barty drawled before kissing the blond soundly.

“Would you guys please stop flirting?” Regulus’ voice was closer to a groan than anything else. He pressed the backs of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars and thinking of you. Stupid poetic feelings.

“Just because you can’t keep track of your girl doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.” Barty pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus. “I would classify that demand as rude.”

“Bite me.”

“Only if your girlfriend says yes.” This time it was Evan’s turn of tuning into Regulus’ torture.

“And she would.” Barty winks at him.

This time it’s a pillow Regulus throws at them, and it lands perfectly, smack in the middle of Barty’s face.

“Oi!” He calls as he throws it back. “Either you quit it, or you throw me your jumper, it’s freezing in here.”

“You’re literally in bed, Barty.” Regulus looks at him, unamused. “Just–”

He trails off, gaze falling from Barty to the wall behind him as he pieces the puzzle together and realisation dawns on his face. The other boys seem to have caught on as they both cock their heads curiously at him. 

“Of course,” Regulus whispers, first in marvel and then it morphs into something between exasperation and disgust. “Of course.” At last, he gets a determined look on his face, slapping his palms on his knees as he sits up from bed and grabs his jumper to go.

“Excuse you, what just happened?” Barty says, increasingly louder throughout his sentence as he realises Regulus is headed for the door, thick wool jumper tucked under his arm. “Hey!”

Regulus throws the boys a look over his shoulder, smirking at them and shaking his head before shutting the door and walking off. He barely catches Evan’s “shush, you baby, I’ll warm ya” before he is out of earshot.

A man with a purpose and half a plan stalks off, beginning the treacherous journey from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor dormitories.

What is the single thing Regulus knows can keep you from him when you’re otherwise attached at the hip? The cold.

What is the one person you go to for anything and everything, especially dealing with the cold? A certain ragged boy with a wolfish smile that he knows is to be found only behind the portrait of an increasingly annoying woman.

“Password?” The Fat Lady asked, quirking a brow ridiculously high as she regards Regulus with a mutual disgust.

“Catulus leonis.” Regulus does not bother holding back the eyeroll at the ridiculous passphrase.

She looks at him a moment or five longer than she needs, almost as if considering not letting him in despite his answer being perfectly correct, before she finally swings open the door wordlessly.

Regulus mutters a harsh thank you, Pureblood upbringing having knocked some politeness into him he is just not able to forego, no matter how severe his beef – as Sirius says – with the woman is.

When he finally approaches the offending dorm, the door opens fast enough to knock some wind across his face, and he is met with a set of black curls and a superfluous frown that both match his own.

“Regulus. Thank Merlin.”

“Good to see you too, Siri. How'd you know it was me?”

"Recognised your footsteps. Now, c'mon."

Regulus pushes in past his brother and his eyes immediately find Remus Lupin’s bed. To the unaware, it would just look like the scrawny boy was innocently laying on his bed, head propped against a mountain of pillows and reading another one of his paperbacks.

However, Regulus knew better and could see the perfect girlfriend-shaped lump underneath Remus’ jumper, shielded by his arms as he held his book over his stomach.

Or, at least shaped like this rather specific form of his girlfriend.

“Hello, amour, I’ve been looking for you.” Regulus’ voice is addressed to the bump on Remus’ chest, but he looks up at him with a quirked brow and a smug smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Didn’t know we were on a pet name-basis, Reg. Good to know.” 

“Absolutely not.” Sirius and Regulus chorus at the exact same time, and Regulus fights back the wince at how painfully similar they are in this moment.

“Reggie,” Sirius finally whines. “Your girlfriend’s been stealing my boyfriend for the past two hours. Do something!”

Despite having a very similar sentiment settled in his own chest, Regulus gives his brother a pull yourself together look as he comes up to stand beside him, near the occupied bed. “I’m fairly certain your boyfriend has stolen my girlfriend equally as much,” he tuts.

“Whatever, just do something.” Sirius waves his hand towards Remus’ still very relaxed state with something a bit too close to a pout forming on his face.

“There’s no need to be jealous, Pads, the poor girl’s just cold,” Remus chides, with a teasing glint in his eye that clearly shows he knows his boyfriend is being dramatic for the bit and not actually upset. "Gotta help 'er out."

“‘M not jealous. I’m needy.” Sirius’ deadpan stare is not affected by Remus’ laughter nor Regulus’ barely-contained snort.

“Glad you admit it,” Regulus says slyly, patting Sirius on his shoulder twice, who immediately shrugs his hand off with a scowl.

“Like you’re any better, you slithered all the way up from the snake pit to fetch her. At least I’m open about it.”

Before Regulus has the chance to retort, Remus puts his book down in his lap and reaches out a hand for Sirius, which he immediately takes. “I told you you could come lay in the bed with us, love,” Remus murmurs and swipes his thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand.

If he did not feel the same way, Regulus would have given Sirius hell for how he seemed to absolutely soften in the sunlight of his boy. “Yeah, I know, Moons, I’m just being theatrical.”

Remus laughs once more, and this time his chest rumbling results in a distinct prrrt! coming from the inside of his jumper. Up through the collar, cheek smashed against Remus’, comes the tentative head of beautiful grey-and-white fur and slow-blinking yellow eyes, still riddled with sleep. 

“Good morning, amour,” Regulus coos, ignoring Sirius’ snort as he drops down to squat beside Remus’ bed so his face is lined up with yours.

You pur, stretching beneath the fabric, a single paw escaping beside your head through the collar as you roll over onto your back. Your eyes remained trained on Regulus, and though he knows cats can’t actually smile, he swears you were smiling at him.

“Sorry to wake you, princess,” Sirius drawls as he looks down at you from where he is leaning on the bedpost beside Remus. “But have you seeped up enough warmth for me to get my boyfriend back yet?”

You make a faux hissing sound before ducking your head down, so it’s just barely hidden by the collar.

Remus laughs heartily, setting his book completely away this time so his hand can come up to rest on your cat-form, petting you through his jumper. “It’s alright kitten, take your time.”

The exposed paw lightly hits Remus’ cheek in retaliation, and this time it is Sirius and Regulus’ turn to laugh at his expense. “Ow! I share my warmth with you and this is what I get in return?”

From the movement beneath the fabric, Regulus assumes you’re nuzzling your head against his chest in apology.

“Amour, I brought your favourite jumper of mine and promise to make you so much hot cocoa if I can steal you back. We can be in your dorm room instead of mine, it’s warmer in there, right?” A smile remains consistent on Regulus’ face as he talks to you.

Sirius pats him on the back, murmuring something about you’re so whipped that he doesn’t bother to pay attention to. 

More movement beneath the fabric, and then suddenly your ears are poking out of the neckline again – because why would you make it easy for yourself and use the big exit, when you can squeeze your way through a tight opening? You’re a cat after all.

Remus seems to be thinking the same as he laughs while you attempt to climb out beside his head, soft fur brushing against his skin and making up for the occasional claw you use for traction. 

Regulus attempts to bite back the coos as he sees more and more of you, recognising your movements as sluggish with sleep, no doubt coaxed into it by finally being comfortable.

“Thanks for today, see you again tomorrow, same time?” Remus teases, head turned towards you as you headbutt him lovingly, finally fully escaped from his jumper and standing on his shoulder. He nuzzles you back and scratches your head in goodbye.

Another prrrt! escapes you in greeting as you saunter your way across Remus and plop onto the small strip of mattress on his side where Regulus’ hands are open and ready to receive you. 

“Hi, sweetie,” he whispers as you allow him to scoop you up into his arms while he’s still squatting beside the bed. He holds you like an infant, tight to his body and securely supported. You immediately begin to purr loudly, nuzzling your head even further into his neck and shoulder.

Regulus does not bother to hold back the slight giggle as your caresses tickle him. 

“Good gods, are you two sappy,” Sirius groans, but when Regulus looks up, there is a wide grin on his face. A slightly teasing one admittedly, but a grin nonetheless.

Then, Regulus recognises where Sirius is grinning at him from – properly cuddled up besides Remus on the opposite side of the bed, arms beneath his jumper, soaking up the leftover warmth from you.

“Wait– how did you get there so fast?” Regulus’ voice is almost incredulous, stopping his greeting of you – earning him a harrumphing meow – to narrow his eyes at his brother. “I didn’t even notice you move from beside me.”

“What can I say; I am a dedicated man.” Sirius nuzzles into Remus’ cheek, not much unlike how you were mere seconds ago, albeit his involved a tad many more kisses.

“You’re weird, that’s what you are,” Regulus laughs as he stands up with you in his arms.

You turn around to look up at him with those big, slitted eyes of yours. When you extend your neck further towards his face, Regulus lifts you higher so you can give him the cat-kisses you so evidently wanted, his lips curling at your touch.

Sirius lifts a brow at the two of you. “Yeah. I’m the weird one.” 

Regulus scoffs at him, but when you continue to caress your furry cheeks against his lips and chin, it is difficult for any menace to remain serious.

“Thank you for your deviant supernatural warmth keeping my girlfriend alive, Lupin, but I’d like to steal her away from you now.” 

“By all means, Black, you’ve already stolen her from me once,” Remus harrumphs, pretending to be some scorned faux older brother but his eyes betray his facade; he is happy for you.

Regulus chooses to ignore it nonetheless.

“Brother.” He nods at Sirius. “Soon to be brother-in-law.” He nods at Remus. “We bid you goodnight.”

“Try not to undo all of Moony’s hard work by freezing her right back up with your freakishly cold feet!” Sirius calls after him as he heads towards the door. He then promptly gives out a soft yelp that indicates Remus corrected him in some physical way.

“Goodnight love, goodnight Reg,” Remus calls instead.

“Yeah, bye, doll!” Sirius adds, whispering more to himself, “he’s mine again now.”

You give out a tired meow that is so cute it makes Regulus’ heart clench with endearment. You cuddle properly up into the crook of his neck as he carries you out, softly closing the door behind him with a smile.

He shifts you in his grip so he can look down at you more carefully. “You are so unbelievably predictable. And even cuter than that again, which is saying something,” he murmurs to you and you respond with quiet meows.

He looks at you curiously. “Are you going to remain in cat form the whole night?”

Your tail twitches teasingly, your only other response is a quiet prrt as you close your eyes into the warmth of his neck again. He laughs, covering your feline body with his hands as he carries you, to keep the warmth in.

He sneaks into your dorm – thankfully often unoccupied as Marlene is with Dorcas and Mary is with Pandora – and settles you down onto your plush mattress and pillows. He undresses and gets ready for bed, while you’re resting your head on the pillow, observing him, but just before getting under the covers, he slips on his jumper.

“It’s so soft I could cry, Reggie,” you had whispered to him when you cuddled up to him when he wore it around you for the first time. “I fear I can never let you go now.”

Regulus slides under the blankets with a knowing smile, opening the hem, allowing you to creep under, chest against chest with your head poking out of the collar to rest at the bottom of his neck. 

“I'm no werewolf, but I’ll keep you warm with my love, amour,” he whispered to you in the dark, one hand combing through your fur protectively underneath his own jumper.

He swears, he could hear the little cat snort against his skin.

Regulus fell desperately deeper in love.

[zyxoxox]

you absolutely cannot tell me sylus doesn’t do a little happy dance in his head every time mc does something to show she trusts him more.

i was playing the new event today and. THIS MAN IS SO STOKED WE LIKE HIM NOW 😭

dangerous criminal man, they say, about the loser who visibly gets excited when mc treats him slightly more kindly than usual. and he brings it up every time as well it’s so pathetic (affectionate) 😭

“sylus, close the roof, i’m cold.”

“you’re worried about me :>”

“…?!”

“you like me :>”

“is that not obvious at this point?!”

he’s so clearly lost all sense of pride when it comes to mc, but he still has the audacity to pretend like she’s more down bad than he is, which is both endearing and fucking hilarious at the same time, bc

“i am not letting you paint on my face,”

“but i want to :(“

“no.”

“but i’m only like this with you :((“

“your wish is my command, paint all you want.”

he’s so smitten for mc it’s insane. if she gave the word i’m sure he’d bend backwards, do a backflip and destroy the world, all for her. i wanna say he’s like a puppy who just got approval, but he’s honestly more akin to a person whose cat just snuggled up against them for the first time.

and that’s also so sad because all the stuff he does for mc, he does without expecting any kind of reciprocation at all. i’m sure he’s aware that he likes her, but i don’t think the thought that she likes him back has even struck him until this point.

so when she lets herself be relaxed around him, when she subtly looks out for his well being, when she plays around with him, he absolutely needs to point it out to prove that it’s real.

sylus, the leader of onychinus, meticulous in his planning, always two steps ahead, never stopped to think that treating a girl with love and interest in mind could lead to her doing the same to you.

somebody please tell this man we love him 😭 he’s so smug for someone so helpless 😭

[clodicious]

These two going at it, in any spot of his laboratory or the Necropolis, is what keeps me going through life.

I just want to say, that I cannot wait to write Emmrook smut, but I must be strong and hold on until is the right moment. Timing is essential... and I like torturing myself

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Sung Jinwo's significant other, who was with him through thick and thin. Someone who was very close to his family and would often fill in the gaps in his life and family.

Imagine doing your normal routine in the mornjng into to look into the calendar and saw today's date marked up with a note that says parent teacher conference causing you to blink, still sleepy. First of all, you've graduated high-school and is a worker and a part-time hunter. Second, you don't have a child let alone a sibling that's going to scho- oh!

"Sung Jinwo!" You scream as soon as he picked up the phone. You heard a groan and a bit of shuffling before you heard a deep husky voice on the phone "Hmmm? Morning." Followed by a chuckle. "Did you just woke up?" He asked causing you to roll your eyes. "No." You lied with a pout. He knew you very well. "You should get ready, Jin-Ah's parent teacher conference meeting is in three hours." "I know, thats why I called you. I thought you were still asleep." "Come on now darling, I'm not a sleepyhead like you." He laughs.

Imagine Jinwo who was on the other side of the phone, just woke up and is now making his way into the kitchen, chuckling as he listen to your rebut with a smitten look on his face, after all, there was nothing he would trade for as long as your voice is what greeted him as he wake up in the morning. "Shall I pick you up at your place so we could go in there together?" "Nah, your house route is completely on the opposite direction of mine. Let's just meet on the school grounds okay?" "Alright." He replied with a smile on his face. "Well then I need to get going now." "Alright, you do take your time to get ready." He tease

"I love you" You heard him say as you almost ended the call due to this teasing. "I love you too." You replied with a small smile on your face. "See you later babe" "I told you not to call-" "Love you! bye!" "Sung Jinwo you punk!" Although you said that with such annoyance, there was a hind of happiness in your eyes that you cannot deny.

Imagine silently waiting for him at the school gates, playing on your phone with some random blocks game when you heard a familiar step coming close causing you to look up only for your eyes to squint as you try to get a grip of reality if your boyfriend was actually the one jogging right in front of you right now.

"Hi." He said with a cheeky grin on his lips as you stare at him wide eyes. "You- your hair." You utter as you reach out and touch his undercut, causing a shiver down his spine as you do. "Yeah I though a little hair cut wouldn't be so bad, my hair was getting long. Why? Does it not look good-?" "No. No Jinwo. You're... beautiful." You utter with a soft smile and proceeded to mess up his hair. "Funny, we used to be by each others height but now you're taller than me." You whispered. "What was that?" "Nothing, let's get going, its almost time."

Imagine noticing the stare and murmurs that the two of you were receiving ever since the two of you have gotten inside the building and eventually to the room where the meeting is about to be held. And to be honest, you honestly cannot blame the students for gossiping and looking at your way because even Jian-Ah was surprised to see her brother's new look upon seeing him. But the way the young adult, one who seemed to be in the same age as you and your lover, probably the sisters of the other students looked at Jinwo that makes you sigh.

Imagine, it was easy to see the changes that was happening with Jinwo. His growth spurt, this strength and abilities were slowly catching everyone's attention. In comparison to the Jinwo you have grown up with, there was this feeling of confusion and anxiety of not being able to keep up with him. You know you should be glad that he was no longer the weak he once was but at the same time, there was this fear of being left behind by him. But you knew for a fact that he would not leave you behind, that's why you fear that you would rather become a burden for hi- "Ouch!"

"You're thinking of something stupid again." "You bas-! That hurts!" You complain as you clutch your forehead, glaring at your lover who was slurping his ramen without care. "You deserve it for thinking about something stupid." "I- I'm not thinking of something stupid." You utter, looking away from him, down into your ramyeon. It's not stupid for what you are thinking was a fact, a truth that hurts to admit.

Imagine the way he slowly reach out and touch your forehead, caressing the spot where he had flicked you earlier. "Sorry, does it hurt?" When he said that with such lovely look on his face, how could you not soften? "No, I was over reacting." You smile gentle at him and lean on his touch. "Still, I'm sorry." "It's alright Jinwo."

"Thank you for bring me home-" You were cut off with a pair of lips. Wide eye, you cannot help but to be taken a back by your lover's action. Nevertheless you soon melt into the kiss and kissed him back, even hooking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Thank you for staying by my side all those years." He said as the two of you pull away from each other but still close enough that your foreheads where touching. "I love you and only you. There will be no one else, okay?" "Okay." You chuckle and hug him. Right there was no use in being scared when it was obvious whom he loves. "I love you too."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: I want to write an angst, not sure if Jinwo would be a fit or a blue lock or Genshin character would be a nice victim.

[landoughnut]

MILF - FC43

masterlist - request

pairing: franco colapinto x wolff!fem!reader

summary: franco ends up seeing one of toto's daughters posts and finds himself smitten

w/c & a/n: smau | the lack of franco fics is criminal

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, georgerussell63, francolapinto, and 1,846,275 others yourusername it's (almost) summertimeeeeee

view all comments

user1 I still can't believe toto is a grandpa

user2 well I can't believe that someone would leave her 😨 like helloooo fumble of the century

mercedesamgf1 our girls 🫶 ♥︎ by author

mercedeamgf1 meine schönen mädchen 😁 - papa ♥︎ by author

yourusername love youuuu 🥰

carmenmmundt the most beautiful mother 💕 ♥︎ by author

yourusername thank you so much ily 🥹 ♥︎ by author

francolapinto woah 😍

francolapinto mommy? 🫦

mercedesamgf1 absolutely not. - toto

user3 FRANCOOOOO LMAOOOOO

user4 shoot your shot king

francolapinto MILF 🥵😮‍💨

georgerussell63 you cannot be fr rn

francolapinto georgerussell63 oh I'm fr

user5 well I mean he did say he had a thing for milfs

user6 she's only a year older than him 😭

francolapinto user6 who cares I know a baddie when I see one

user7 francolapinto LMAOAOAOAO oh hell no who taught him that word 💀

alexandrasaintmleux wow 😍😍😍 ♥︎ by author

lilymhe girl how do you look so perfect 😫 ♥︎ by author

yourusername oh shush lily you flatter me too much 🤭

lilymhe yourusername only because you deserve it babe ♥︎ by author

alex_albon what is happening rn....

francolapinto georgerussell63 can you set me up por favor

mercedesamgf1 I will end you. - toto

francolapinto mercedesamgf1 no toto no this is so not right 🙄

mercedesamgf1 francolapinto you dare to use my own quotes against me? - toto

francolapinto mercedesamgf1 😛 fight me old man

user8 francolapinto LMAOAOOAOAOAA IM PISSING MYSELF I'M IMAGINING TOTO THROWING HIS HEADPHONES WHILE ARGUING WITH FRANCO

iamrebeccad so... are we just ignoring the elephant in the room babes?

yourusername I have no idea what you're talking about 😄

francolapinto yourusername I know you see my comments 🎀 don't be shy, answer my dm's 🤗

user9 francolapinto don't give up she'll go out with you trust

francolapinto you taught your daughter to share no? maybe you can share a coffee with me then 😉

yourusername that was REALLY bad

francolapinto yourusername but it go you to notice me 😉 a win is a win

francolapinto yourusername so is that a yes?

user10 anddddd she's back to ignoring him LMAOO 🍿

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, mercedesamgf1, lilymhe, iamrebeccad, and 1,930,482 others yourusername 💗☀️

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user11 ma'am you are the definition of an angel

yourusername thats so sweet thank you 🥹

francolapinto I agree

user12 please adopt me I beg 🙏

iamrebeccad WOWOWOW ♥︎ by author

yourusername hehe thanks for being my photographer

iamrebeccad yourusername anything for my favorite girls 🤭 ♥︎ by author

lilymhe MOTHERRRRRRRR (literally and figuratively)

yourusername WIFEEEEEE (sadly just figuratively)

alex_albon yourusername excuse me ⁉️

yourusername alex_albon you heard me

mercedesamgf1 dit zijn prachtige foto's lieverd - papa

yourusername thank you 🩶 she misses her grandpa

mercedesamgf1 yourusername I miss her more, you too should come to the next race 😊 - your papa

user13 petition for toto to start his own instagram

user14 him signing his comment off as "your papa" 🥲 I might cry

yourusername mercedesamgf1 perhaps we will 👀🤭

francolapinto yourusername and then I will take you on our coffee date while toto watches your daughter 🤗

yourusername francolapinto I never agreed to that... alphinef1team come get your reserve driver please

alphinef1team yourusername I fear he is out of our control on this one

mercedesamgf1 francolapinto back away from our girl 🤺🤺

francolapinto mercedesamgf1 NEVER

francolapinto hermosaaaa

francolapinto hold me next 🙋‍♂️

francolapinto so, me. you. getting mate?

yourusername will it stop you with these comment?

francolapinto yourusername probably not, but sure mamí 😁

yourusername francolapinto get rid of that nickname and I'm in

francolapinto yourusername REALLY? OH DIOS MÍO YAYYY

georgerussell63 francolapinto finally

user15 is franco actually pulling a gorgeous milf?????

francolapinto SCREW EVERYONE WHO DOUBTED ME

francolapinto

liked by yourusername, mercedesamgf1, lando, pierregasly, and 2,814,607 others francolapinto we didn't get mate but I did get the girl 🩷

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user16 AWWWWWW

user17 dangggg franco I was unfamiliar with your game... I didn't think she would cave

francolapinto how dare you

user17 francolapinto have you seen her

francolapinto user17 touché

mercedesamgf1 I'm watching you. - toto

mercedesamgf1 hurt her and I will have george or kimi run you off of the track. - toto

francolapinto mercedesamgf1 I would never 😅

yourusername mercedesamgf1 papa stop scaring my boyfriend

mercedesamgf1 yourusername but you are my baby 😢 - your papa

yourusername mercedesamgf1 🥹 I love you

user18 toto is the best father imo

user19 user18 agreed

carmenmmundt YAYYYY SO HAPPY FOR YOU LOVE yourusername

yourusername THANK YOU HEHE I LOVE YOU

yourusenrame my baby love is asking to see you again already 😊 ♥︎ by author

user20 GIRL DAD FRANCOOOOOOOOOOOOO

user21 stop the way she refers to her daughter as baby love more than her real name is adorable

user22 user21 now that I'm thinking about it I don't even know her name

user23 user22 same

francolapinto yourusername running to you asap 🏃

pierregasly félicitations mon ami 🎉 ♥︎ by author

francolapinto graciasssssss pierreeeeeeee 🤗

iamrebeccad you better take care of my girls, you hear me??? ♥︎ by author

francolapinto OF COURSSEEEE in more ways than one 😏

iamrebeccad francolapinto oh...

carlossainz55 francolapinto ......

francolapinto carlossainz55 practicing for baby number 2 😛

yourusername francolapinto OH MY GOSH SHUT UP

mercedesamgf1 francolapinto 😀 you are so lucky we haven't showed toto this

francolapinto mercedesamgf1 PLEASE DON'T HE WILL KILL ME

lando GET IN THERE FRANCOOOO ♥︎ by author

user24 and they live happily ever after, the end 🤗

yourusername exactly 🙌 ♥︎ by author

francolaptino yourusername 🩷

[dollishmehrayan]

# BATBOYS WITH A SUNSHINE!READER ── .✦ ( basically batboys with a optimistic reader )

a/n: this was requested by anon (here) but anywayss i think I’m gonna do the world tour thing after my winter inspired fics/hcs end on like February 28th! (Dw i’ll still do the world tour thingy in between) but yahh also I desperately need writer mutals + mutals I mssg daily like I’m a very kind person idm if you dm me at like 4 AM, tags: (batboys x fem!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Absolutely smitten. Your optimism is like a magnet for Dick, who thrives on positivity.

He calls you his “little ray of sunshine” (even if you roll your eyes at the nickname).

If he’s feeling down, your relentless optimism is a game changer. “How do you do that? How do you make the world seem so… bright all the time?”

Constantly teases you, especially if you’re being overly cheerful during random moments. “Are you seriously smiling right now? We’re getting ready to head to bed!”

But secretly, he loves it. Your energy balances his occasional doubts && insecurities. (he lovesss positive people who live in their own world)

Dick starts picking up on your habits leaving little notes of encouragement, giving random compliments to strangers and realizes how much better it makes his day.

JASON TODD ── .✦

At first, he’s skeptical. He’s not used to someone so genuinely cheerful, and he might think you’re putting on an act.

“How are you this happy all the time? What’s your secret? Coffee? Dark magic?”, “I just like seeing the world differently, I’m a poet in my mind.”

But over time, he warms up to your positivity and even craves it (to a point he gets sad if you aren’t around for more than 4 hours). You’re the light that cuts through his darker moments and more sulking personality.

“I don’t know how you do it, but you make me feel like the world’s not completely screwed.”, “what did you say?-“, “Nothing go back to sleep.”

He pretends to be annoyed when you try to cheer him up after a rough day, but he secretly loves when you coax a laugh out of him.

Jason starts jokingly calling you his “emotional support sunshine.” He’ll tell Roy, “Yeah, they’re like my personal antidepressant.”

Will protect your positivity at all costs. If anyone tries to dim your light, they’ll have to deal with him.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Finds your optimism so refreshing. Tim can be a little too caught up in stress and overthinking, so your energy is like a breath of fresh air.

He’s constantly asking, “How are you so happy all the time? Teach me your ways.”

If you leave him little notes of encouragement, he’ll treasure them forever. He has a drawer full of them and pulls one out whenever he’s having a bad day.

Sometimes, your cheerfulness makes him feel a little guilty. “You’re so good, and here I am being a grump.” But you always remind him it’s okay to have bad days.

Tim loves how you bring optimism even to his most chaotic moments. “Yeah, sure, we’re being late, but hey, at least it’s not raining, right?”

He’d be a little overwhelmed by your energy at times, but he admires you deeply for seeing the good in everything.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian does not know what to do with you at first. Your cheerfulness is a complete mystery to him.

“Why are you smiling? We are surrounded by incompetence.”

He pretends to be annoyed, but deep down, he finds your positivity oddly comforting.

Over time, he starts looking forward to your optimistic take on things. “Yes, fine, maybe there is a silver lining. Stop gloating.”

You have a knack for breaking through his tough exterior. If he’s grumpy, you’ll say something so genuinely kind that he can’t help but soften.

Damian secretly loves how you see the good in him, even when he doesn’t see it himself.

He starts to mimic your habits, like giving Alfred small compliments or trying to look on the bright side, but he’ll deny it if you call him out.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce admires your positivity but doesn’t always understand it. “How do you manage to stay so cheerful in Gotham of all places?”

At first, he worries your optimism will make you naive, but he quickly realizes it’s your strength.

Your energy is a stark contrast to his brooding nature, and he starts leaning on it more than he cares to admit.

When he’s stuck in his head or doubting himself, you always know what to say to pull him out of it.

“You make it sound so simple,” he says after you give him one of your pep talks. But he smiles because somehow, you do make it simple.

You bring a sense of warmth and nostalgia into the Wayne Manor. Bruce finds himself more relaxed when you’re around, even in the middle of chaos.

He’ll never admit it to the others, but your optimism is one of his favorite things about you.

[lvrpiastri]

SO BABYGIRL! ; OP81 + LN4.

synopsis: McLaren drivers Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri are inseparable. Known as the beloved couple of Formula 1, everyone absolutely adores them... But to the shock of the internet, the pair has a secret girlfriend named Y/N L/N. After completing her thesis for university, the three of them decide to bring her into the spotlight. 3.8k words.

trigger warnings: Use of Y/N; Use of feminine pronouns from the reader’s perspective; Use of curse words in English; Mentions of cheating; Mentions of polyamorous couples; Descriptions of romantic acts and behaviors; Descriptions of suggestive remarks

a message from the author: FINALLY! I have been working on this fic/SMAU forever. It was so fun to write this all out, especially since Landoscar is my favorite ship. I hope you all enjoy this!

If there was one thing you could count on in the world, it was that Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris were two lovesick idiots who could not keep their hands off of one another, even in a public – and gravely serious – situation. You watched as the two orange-clad boys intertwined their hands, fingers rubbing against palms and expressions sickeningly enamored as the interviewer pressed them for answers about their race performance. You knew you had no right to forbid them from being smitten; but it was just the fact that they were constantly caressing each other, every moment of the day. If you didn’t know better, you would assume that they had been superglued together.

And seeing them act so intimate was only making the burn in your heart worse. 

According to the calendar on your phone, it had been fourteen days since you had last spent time together. That was equivalent to two whole weeks filled with watching your boyfriends be starry-eyed lovers on a glossy television screen, and wishing you were there. Two whole weeks where you had woken up to an empty bed, staring at the twin spots between you where they used to lay their heads. Two whole weeks of living in a desolately quiet Monaco flat, with no raucous pranks and heartwarming laughter. The silence was nice sometimes, but it got to a point.

You slammed the laptop screen shut with more force than you should have used, frustration pricking at your skin like venomous needles. The constant yearning that was tugging at your heartstrings was depleting your energy. Soon, you would disappear into the same velvet couch where you had spent many nights curled up between them, absorbing their body heat as if you were a cat basking in the sun.

Your phone buzzed, and your hand shot out for it immediately, greedily waiting for a scrap of contact from either one of the boys. This time, it was a message in the group chat, sent by Oscar – or rather, Mr. Pastry, as his contact read.

[OSCAR] Hi, beautiful. Lando and I are both extremely sorry for not texting all day. I understand if you’re upset with us. Zak has us stuck in a constant rotation of meetings with PR managers, engineers, and strategists. It’s all preparation for the next race, but it blows. We miss you a lot and cannot wait to see you. Keep working on your thesis, we believe in you.

You smiled to yourself, already halfway through typing up a response in your head. Before you could send it, though, another notification came through. It was from your other boyfriend, Lando, who was saved in your phone as Mr. Norizz.

[LANDO] What he said. Love you babe!

The way they texted was ironic, particularly due to the fact that it was the opposite of how they acted in real life. Oscar was more private, cagey with his words. Contrary to popular opinion, however, maintaining a conversation with him was not similar to pulling teeth – if it was, it meant he disliked you. Thankfully, you were one of the few people Oscar enjoyed spending time with, something you were immensely grateful for. 

Lando, on the other hand, was quite chatty. Sometimes, you could not get him to stop talking; he always had something on his mind that he felt required a debate and full discussion. He was charismatic, witty with his words. Flirting was a sure-fire way to make you melt – just a few well-chosen words and that slick smile of his, and you’d be Lando’s perfect doll.

[YOU] Don’t worry about it, I love you both. Come home soon!

The message went through with a whoosh, and you dropped the phone on the cushion beside you, the spell broken. You were fully aware of the existence of triple-headers and how important they were in deciding who the championship leader was. Each time, you claimed that you were more than prepared to deal with them, saying you were fine to stay home. Yet without fail, you always wished that you could just wave a wand and make the concept disappear for good once it arrived.

Like you had joked before countless times, triple-headers were a test of endurance, patience, and just how far someone could stretch your sanity before it snapped.

f1gossip I can’t believe there was a time where Landoscar wasn’t a couple. They’re my emotional support himbos, and I don’t know what I’d do without them! Bringing them together is the only correct thing that orange team has done.

tagged landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren

comments 1.0k

user6 I can’t believe I chose the gayest team.

user7 Brocedes has nothing on them!

user8 THANKFULLY. WE DO NOT WANT HEARTBREAK IN LANDOSCAR LAND.

user9 The eyes never lie. They were always soppily in love with each other 😌

user10 Happy Pride Month to the papaya boys!

user11 I remember the “Guess That Song” interview they did back in 2023... They weren’t dating, but they sure acted like it!

user12 People say to focus on the sport, meanwhile the two of them are shoving their tongues down each other’s throats 😐

user13 I can’t wait for a future McLaren whistleblower to reveal every dirty thing they did

user14 MY SHAYLAS! 🥺🥺

user15 How much do I have to pay for somebody to write a romance book about them...

The knock on the door was soft, barely there. You jolted upwards, eyes blearily blotting away the post-sleep haze as you watched your best friend sit down on the bed beside you. The mattress dipped with her weight, and you shifted your position to face her. You had struggled through one last day in the unbearably noiseless apartment before caving and calling Zara to spend the next week with you. She didn’t mind; you had been roommates during your university years. 

“Everything OK? You’re usually up by seven in the morning, so I was worried,” Zara put a palm to your forehead to check for a nonexistent fever. Her expression was concerned, green eyes troubled by your abnormal behavior. “I know you miss the boys, but I promise that they’ll be back home quicker than a blink of the eye.”

You let out a low, pained groan, flopping back onto the bed with a dramatic thump. “They’re so fucking sentimental it makes me want to puke. I mean it; someone is going to catch them having sex in each other’s drivers’ rooms and I’m not dealing with the fallout.”

Zara barked out a surprised laugh. “I don’t think they’re having sex at work, Y/N. Isn’t Formula One supposed to be super stressful? How would they find the time?”

You scoffed, curling your fists in the blanket as a very explicit image floated to the forefront of your mind, clear as day. “Zara, I walked into them humping in the bedroom and I almost had a heart attack. I think that if there’s a way, they’ll find it. Oscar’s smart, and Lando will do whatever he says, never mind the risks.”

“Their sex drives must be incredible,” she mused, standing up and tucking a loose strand of curly hair that had escaped her hibiscus-patterned headwrap behind her ear. “You’re lucky.”

“In no world am I lucky,” you retorted defensively. How dare she call you fortunate, when they were halfway across the globe and able to seek comfort in one another’s embrace? It wasn’t like Zara would let you cuddle with her, no matter how close you were. “I’m needy and abandoned.”

Zara shrugged her shoulders. “Not my problem, girlie. Just hang on for this last week, and then you can get all freaky and kinky with them as much as you like.”

You huffed. “This is a stinking load of rubbish, and I hate it.”

“Well, that’s what you get for dating two boys who are extremely clingy and…” Zara paused, working past a knot in her throat. “Aroused.”

You bobbed your head in agreement, chuckling at her accurate description. Despite everything, it was hard to be aggravated with Lando and Oscar. Had it been up to them, they would live in Monaco full-time with you, but their ambitions and talent led them down another path. You couldn’t be bitter over that. “Quite.”

She gave you a look. “Come on. You can’t be languishing in bed, even though I know you wish I’d let you. We should go get some donuts from the bakery down the street. That should cheer you up, yeah?”

“I go there all the time with the boys,” you said tremulously. Oscar always ordered the same thing: a chocolate eclair and a double espresso. Lando’s order varied, but he liked the raspberry bear claw the most. You cleared your throat, attempting to dissipate the memories before you broke down into tears. “But sure, we can make some new memories.”

Zara clapped her hands together, the sound startling you. “Great! Be in the kitchen in five minutes, or I’ll drag you out of here myself. I love you, but I hate seeing you be depressed because of two rich white boys.”

Race weekend was on the horizon. Just three more days – involving a trio of intense practice sessions, qualifying, and the actual race – and you would be able to see your boyfriends again. The endless suffering would cease. Finally.

You turned on the television, switching from a boring local news channel to the sports broadcast that livestreamed the race. A salt-and-pepper-haired journalist was talking in chirpy French about the rookies; particularly Isack Hadjar, who had a streak of achieving points in every race so far in this triple-header. You hummed, tapping your foot against the tiled floor as you waited for the camera to pan to the McLaren motorhome.

When it switched, you instantly became alert, body instinctually shifting closer to the television as your eyes scoured the garage for signs of your boyfriends. Your eyes snagged on Lando’s familiar neon green helmet as he positioned himself inside the cockpit, your fingers reaching out to the screen like you could touch him.

The angle switched to the interior of Oscar’s car, a close-up showing his squished cheeks and bright brown eyes while he waited for instructions. You grinned, unable to contain your joy at seeing even a fraction of your boyfriend’s face. It was pathetic, how much you missed them. They might be idiots, but they were yours, and you wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

The race, when it ultimately occurred, had been incredibly eventful, with multiple DNFs and safety cars. You had been at the edge of your seat the whole time, listening to every painstaking word the commentators said. Rather than allowing Zara to head back to her apartment downtown, you roped her into keeping you company, claiming that her presence would keep you grounded. Together, you baked your traditional lemon-blueberry muffins, and throughout the course of the Grand Prix, you ended up devouring half the tin.

Once the race had concluded, ninety petrifying minutes later, you sunk back in your seat, grateful that neither one of your boyfriends had crashed. The podium celebration was due to start soon, but you decided to take a shower beforehand. Zara had already collected her belongings and was halfway out the door before you noticed and rushed over to say goodbye. She wasn’t a sentimental person, but unfortunately for her, you were.

You gave her a quick kiss on her forehead. “Thank you for staying with me. I had a great time with you.” 

She smiled wanly in response.  “I’ve been fighting off nostalgia this whole time. Where has the time gone?”

You pouted. “We’re not that old, Zara.”

“Still.” Her lips thinned, and for a moment, you thought she might start crying. “I’ll see you soon, girlie. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Zara had barely left when your phone began to chime, a steady flow of messages pouring into it. Oscar, Lando, even Oscar’s mother. You chuckled, swiping to the message app so you could respond.

[OSCAR] Did you watch the race? Call me when you can.

[LANDO] Tell me I did amazing and that I’m your favorite driver ever. And don’t lie, because I know I am.

[OSCAR’S MOTHER] If you didn’t watch the race, the boys did incredible. Oscar won, Lando P2.

You answered Lando’s text first, a smirk tugging at your mouth. 

[YOU] You did very well, Lan. But you know that I can’t choose a single favorite driver – I love you and Oscar equally.

Next, you opened Oscar’s messages, thumb pressing the call button while you eased back onto the soft cushions. The sound vibrated through the air, and you waited for him to accept.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted you instantly, his accented words muted by exhaustion. “I’m in my driver’s room right now, but Lando’s here too. He won’t leave me alone.”

Lando’s bright voice floated over to you. “Because he just won and I got another podium! God forbid I want to celebrate with him a bit.”

“Won’t you be going to a club later?” you questioned him, eyebrows furrowing. “I thought Oscar promised he would this time, because last race he refused to.”

You heard a small grunt, but you couldn’t tell who it originated from. “We’re catching an early flight home,” Oscar stated suddenly, an obvious ploy to change the topic – which worked. When you realized what he said, your heart soared with the news.

“We were going to keep that a secret!” Lando exclaimed disbelievingly.

You giggled. “Well, I’m glad I know. I’ll be so glad to see you.”

“It’s been too long,” Oscar agreed. “Shit, I think I hear Andrea calling for us. We have to go. I love you, baby.”

“OK. I love you too. Both of you,” you added before Lando could interject.

And without another word, the line disconnected.

yourusername posted an Instagram Story

oscarpiastri replied to yourusername’s Instagram Story

Perfect photo 🔥🔥🔥

landonorris replied to yourusername’s Instagram Story

Are you still proud of me 🙁

You were in the kitchen, whipping up a batch of chicken fajitas, when you heard the key turn in the lock. When you tapped your phone to check the time, you saw numerous missed messages from your boyfriends. You muttered a string of expletives under your breath.

Quickly, you wiped your hands on a dish towel and ran over to the foyer to open the door. 

They were already standing there, Oscar’s long fingers wrapped around the golden key, Lando’s hands tucked in the pockets of his baggy jeans. Oscar’s golden hair was getting a bit shaggy at the edges, his pale cheeks flushed with the humidity outside. Lando looked the same as he always did, his mischievous aura never vanishing no matter how long you hadn’t seen him. He was a bit like an imp, but in a sexier way.

“Hi,” Lando said first, wrapping you in a tight hug. He smelled like cinnamon and hand sanitizer, probably the cheap stuff the airport used to keep its visitors from getting sick. “I missed you.” 

You felt another set of arms embrace you and the tickle of a breath as Oscar murmured, “I’ve never been so happy to be back in Monaco.”

Once they let go, you led them inside the apartment, which smelled strongly of meat and various spices. “I’m making chicken fajitas,” you informed them, laughing as Lando sniffed the air hungrily. “They should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

“Can we help?” Oscar offered, stepping towards the counter to see what you were doing. A cutting board was assembled on the counter, with scallions already half chopped up on top of it.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to steer him away. “Last time, a bag of flour exploded everywhere… and we almost set the house on fire. I think I can handle this on my own.”

Lando rolled his eyes, obviously knowing that the comment was about him… Which it was. “It was one time. Let me redeem myself.”

“It’s OK,” you reassured them. “Go relax. You deserve a break.” Oscar opened his mouth to argue, but you raised a palm in the air, cutting him off. “I don’t want to hear it.”

The rhythm of how things used to be before the triple-header came back during the meal: Lando’s ridiculous jokes and your easy laughter. The way Oscar couldn’t tear his eyes away from Lando, even to take a bite.  The flat was no longer a soulless prison, but the home you cherished.

When you laid down in bed, the boys spread-eagled around you and their limbs slung carelessly over your body, you stared at the ceiling. It was late; nearly midnight. You knew the lack of sleep would come back to haunt you in the morning. The deadline to submit your thesis was nearing, and despite your hard work, you were absolutely terrified.

“You OK, babe?” Oscar’s voice sliced through the dark. “What are you thinking about?”

You snuggled closer to him, seeking his warmth. “Nothing. Just my thesis.”

“Mm, yeah. It’s coming up soon, isn’t it?” 

You bit your lip. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” Lando piped up, his head lifting from his pillow as he affixed you with a serious gaze. “You’re, like, the smartest person I know. And I know a lot of people.”

“Still,” you objected. “What if they hate my essay? What if they think the topic is boring, or too outdated? All my hard work will be thrown away.”

Oscar touched your chin, the sensation feather-light. “Then we’ll sue them. I don’t know, baby, but it’s not worth stressing over. I promise you, regardless of what happens, we will love you.”

“And we’re going to introduce you to the paddock,” Lando said, “As our sexy little brainiac.”

You sucked in a breath, taken by surprise. “No, Lan. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Lando cocked his head to the side. “I hate keeping you a secret. The world deserves to know that you’re mine – and that I’m yours.”

“We’ve been dating for almost two years now,” Oscar pointed out.

You shook your head. “It’s too risky.”

“Why? Everyone will love you. You’re funny, smart, beautiful. The whole package,” Lando needled. He pecked you on the forehead, and added, “They’re going to be so jealous.”

“Are you sure you want to?” you faltered.

Both of the boys nodded their heads enthusiastically, and you relented instantly.

Three weeks later

The paddock was frenzied, a cluttered throng of polychrome people shouting with anticipation and delight. It was as if you had teleported into a whole new world once you had arrived at the circuit. You inhaled deeply, attempting to stay calm and keep your wits about you. No one knew who you were, not yet.

Oscar and Lando were somewhere to the right of you. They had argued for over an hour, wanting to immediately claim you as theirs in the public eye, though you told them there would be repercussions that you weren’t ready for. However, you compromised by wearing a hat with Oscar’s number, and Lando’s special edition Quadrant hoodie. That way, they could mark you, but without being obvious.

You walked towards the McLaren tent, where the boys were already waiting for you. “Ready, baby?” Lando questioned softly.

Oscar tapped your cap, eyes bright. “Nice hat.”

“She’s wearing my jersey, you muppet. I’m obviously her favorite,” Lando shot back. “And I was the one to ask her out first.”

You waved a hand in the air. “This isn’t a contest. I’m here to support both of you.”

“Good,” Oscar said. “I’m happy you came.”

Lando nodded, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Same. Really.”

“Let’s go inside, shall we? It’s too hot out here.” Oscar wrapped your hand in his, a comforting tether as he brought you into the lion’s den.

You had been blissfully unaware of the post while you stayed in the McLaren motorhome, watching your boyfriends prepare for their upcoming practice sessions. Only when you entered the hotel, heading up to the room to relax after the long and stressful day, did Lando mention it.

“Um…have you seen this?” he asked, raising his phone slightly. A Twitter post with an image of Oscar, his arms wrapped around you, was gleaming on the screen. “People think Oscar is cheating. On me. With you – his other girlfriend.”

Fear dropped in your stomach like a stone. “Except nobody knows that. I knew this was a bad idea, I told you, but you made me think I was crazy,” you spluttered out. Oscar looked at you, worry creasing his forehead. “I shouldn’t have done any of this.”

“We want you here, though,” Oscar pointed out. “Don’t you think we expected that something similar would happen? Lando and I are both public figures. Scandal follows us wherever we go. But we don’t care, because all we want is to be with you.”

f1gossip REVEALED! Y/N L/N (or the secret girlfriend of both McLaren drivers Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri), as well as some posts on her private Instagram! Looks like there is some truth to these rumors... Thoughts?

comments 2.9k

user22 THIS IS WILD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😲

user23 NOOOOOO I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES

user24 Landoscar having a secret girlfriend was NOT what I was expecting for silly season 2025.

user25 UMMM, wait...She’s actually so, so gorgeous?! 🤤

user26 She’s SOOOO lucky OMG

Though you were expecting it, the sudden shockwave that circulated through the Formula 1 world surpassed anything you could have imagined. There were TikTok blind reaction videos, Twitter threads that spanned back half a decade, and thousands upon thousands of memes. 

Lando and Oscar both released statements on their social media, confirming that you were, in fact, their secret girlfriend, and that Oscar was not cheating on his long-time boyfriend, but rather was in a polyamorous relationship. And, naturally, their remarks stirred up a frenzy on the Internet.

You were pacing back and forth across the carpeted floor, hands massaging your temples, while the two boys read people’s various (but all deranged) reactions aloud. Everything felt surreal. This couldn’t possibly be your life; just a few days ago, you were still a relatively normal twenty-one-year-old woman who was trudging through a miserable process involving your thesis for university. And now, you were officially marked as Lando and Oscar’s; nothing you could do would remove that label. 

“Someone from France is really, really jealous,” Lando said, crooking his head to the side as he tried to make sense of a lengthy Instagram comment. Based off of his expression, you were glad you weren’t the one reading through it. “At least, that’s what the translation is telling me. But it also included the word ‘shrimp’, so I don’t know how accurate this is.”

Oscar coughed out a laugh. “This person wants to join in. Says that they’d make a perfect fourth because they, too, are hot. They submitted a full resume. Look.”

“Is there anything mean?” you hazarded an ask, finally tearing yourself out of your circling death march and flopping onto the ground. “I feel like you’re hiding stuff from me. News of this magnitude could not have only positive reactions.”

Lando shook his head, lifting his head from his phone and meeting you right in the eyes. “Nah, I’d tell you. Oscar would be upset, but I wouldn’t hide anything from you. Even if it were bad.”

Oscar knelt down and kissed you on the forehead. “For now, everything looks positive. People are mostly envious that the rumors are true, but overall, I’d say we’re all good.” He grinned wolfishly. “See, Y/N? They love you.”

A resentful noise left Lando’s mouth. “Um, excuse me? We love you. Not they. It’s we.”

You giggled. “I love you too.”

Lando dropped his phone on the couch and laid down beside you, spreading his arms out like a dramatic snow angel. “If we’re going to be serious about this, we have to make sure to mention Y/N in everything. I hated having to pretend like she didn’t exist. Now that the news is out, I’m going to be the most insufferable person in the world.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, as if to say, Are you sure you’re not already?

You doubled over laughing, the feeling of dread and worry finally lifting from your shoulders. This new world you had entered might be terrifying, but it was yours. You knew wholeheartedly that Oscar and Lando would never hurt you, nonetheless let anyone do so. 

They were your ridiculously handsome idiots, and you loved them with a kind of forever that even the tabloids couldn’t touch.

Credits: Dividers — @saradika-graphics ; Photos — Pinterest

[cheftsunoda]

George x albon!reader x Carmen? Alex’s sister that comes to the paddock?

crush — gr63 + carmen

smau + blurbs

george russell x!influencer albon reader x carmen mundt

alex albon x !sister reader

carmen had never met yn albon in person, but from the glimpses she’d seen on social media—effortless beauty, sharp humor, and just the right amount of chaos—she was already smitten. so when yn finally walks into the paddock one sunny afternoon, turning heads like it’s second nature, carmen isn’t surprised that her heart skips a beat. what she is surprised by? the way george starts stammering and grinning like a schoolboy with a crush. oh, this was going to be fun.

fc : amberly yang (bbyambi on ig)

—

yn_albon

liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, lando & 5,010,889 others.

yn_albon : on a brand trip, playing roblox and being lily’s wag all at the same time. (i can multitask unlike alex) (he thinks just bc he is busy driving a car in circles that he is excused from wag duties) (i got you my lily)

tagged : lilymhe

—

view 175,020 other comments.

username00 : the fact that both the albon sibs are so chronically online that they always have memes of each other in their photo dumps makes me the happiest.

liked by yn_albon

↳ yn_albon : part of my job is to be chronically online…idfk what he is doing

liked by lilymhe and lando

alex_albon : im fighting for my life on the track to make more robux for when they unban me

liked by yn_albon

↳ yn_albon : honestly i can respect the grind

liked by alex_albon

↳ yn_albon : @/roblox can u pls unban my brother? we want to play dti together. 🙏🏻🙏🏻

liked by alex_albon and lilymhe

↳ username1 : pls😭 they are so unserious

lilymhe : the bestest wag (sorry alex) love you to the moon and back😇

liked by yn_albon

↳ alex_albon : the internet quite literally argues that i am the best wag

↳ lilymhe : yeah but the internet hasn’t seen yn in her wag era. she greeted me with matcha and braided my hair before the tournament:)

liked by yn_albon and alex_albon

↳ alex_albon : yn stop making me look bad infront of my girlfriend and the internet

liked by yn_albon

↳ yn_albon : if you don’t marry her soon i will😈

liked by lilymhe

lando : just give her alex’s seat while we’re at it, she’s already doing everything else

liked by yn_albon

↳ alex_albon : you are not helping.

liked by yn_albon

yourbff : i genuinely cannot keep up with your ass anymore. in 3 different countries and 4 different roblox servers at once

liked by yn_albon

↳ yn_albon : im just good like that. call you when lilz and i land

georgerussell63 : okay but share your username…for scientific purposes 😎

liked by yn_albon

↳ yn_albon : check dm’s👉🏻👈🏻

liked by georgerussell63

↳ alex_albon : really?? you wouldn’t get on last night but you will willingly play roblox with my sister.

↳ georgerussell63 : yes 😁

liked by yn_albon

carmenmmundt : pretty girl ❤️

liked by yn_albon

↳ yn_albon : says the prettiest girl ever

liked by carmenmmundt and georegrussell63

—

The jet smells like leather seats and expensive champagne. Lily tosses her golf cap onto the nearest empty seat and sinks into the plush cushion across from you, her hair still slightly damp from the post-tournament shower. Her phone’s buzzing nonstop—congratulatory texts, press notifications, probably three new swing analysis videos from her coach—but she ignores it all in favor of kicking off her sneakers and grinning at you like you’ve both just pulled off a heist.

“You think he’s going to freak out?” she asks, tucking her legs up as the jet begins taxiing.

You grin back. “You just placed 3rd in a tournament in another country and now we’re flying to ambush him in the paddock. If he doesn’t cry, I want a refund on him. A new brother for me and a new boyfriend for you.”

Lily laughs, reaching for a mini water bottle but never breaking eye contact. “Also, if he doesn’t hug me before he hugs you, I’m breaking up with him.”

“That’s fair,” you say, mock-serious. “I’ll even do it for you.”

The plane begins to climb, and the world below disappears in a blur of clouds. You sink deeper into your seat, blanket tucked around your legs, as Lily slides across to sit beside you. She rests her head on your shoulder without asking—like always—and pulls out her iPad, but doesn’t unlock it. You both sit there in the silence for a moment, the kind that only comes from a long day and a shared secret.

“You think he has any clue?” she finally asks.

You shake your head. “None. He thinks I’m still in New York on a campaign shoot and that you’ve gone radio silent for your post-tourny ‘recovery era.’ He literally said, ‘See you in like… two weeks maybe?’ this morning.”

Lily smiles, slow and dangerous. “Perfect. I love ruining his sense of control.”

You glance over at her and laugh. “I love when we’re unhinged together.”

She raises her water bottle in a toast. “To chaos. And to your brother, who’s about to have a very emotional Friday.”

You clink your bottle to hers and let the hum of the engines rock you both into quiet anticipation. Because if there’s one thing you and Lily have mastered, it’s multitasking—and surprising the hell out of your brother is the next on the list.

—

The paddock is its usual buzz—team radios chirping, camera crews weaving between garages, PR reps speed-walking like their lives depend on it. You’re tucked under a cap and oversized sunglasses, walking just a half-step behind Lily as she confidently leads the way through security. She’s already flashed her pass like three times, her glow giving her a kind of untouchable aura that’s working in your favor. No one’s looked too closely at you yet, and that’s exactly how you want it. Because Alex has no idea you’re here.

The last time you saw him in person was three months ago. Between your insane travel schedule, influencer events, his race calendar, and general Albon family chaos, you’ve both been surviving on chaotic FaceTime calls, blurry selfies, and the occasional meme exchange at 3AM. You missed him more than you realized—until now, walking into the paddock where he’s just around the corner.

Lily slows as you approach the Williams hospitality suite, tilting her head and smirking. “Okay, how are we doing this? Dramatic walk-in? Surprise hug? Fake press ambush?”

You grin. “I was thinking of yelling and just launching myself at him.”

She laughs and nods. “Classic. I support it.”

Before either of you can fully plan the ambush, you spot him. Alex, standing near the motorhome entrance, in full race kit, laughing at something his engineer just said, completely unaware of the storm about to hit him. And just like that, your feet move without your permission. You break into a jog—hair bouncing under your cap, sunglasses sliding slightly down your nose—and before anyone can stop you, you’re barreling into him from behind.

“HI, LOSER!” you shout, flinging your arms around him.

He stumbles, fully yelping, then freezes.

“WHAT THE—” His voice cracks. He twists around so fast you nearly fall backward, and then the sunglasses come off and your cap flips back, and he finally sees your face.

“YN???” His voice is way too loud. “NO. NO. YOU’RE—WHAT???”

He grabs your face like you’re a hallucination, blinking hard. “You’re here? You’re actually—wait—how?”

You’re laughing, almost in tears from how shocked he looks. “Surprise, idiot!”

And then he’s pulling you into the tightest hug, one arm locked around your shoulders, the other cradling the back of your head like he’s scared you’ll vanish again.

“I haven’t seen you in months,” he mumbles into your hair. “I thought you were in New York?”

“Diversion,” you whisper dramatically. “I lied. Lily helped.”

As if on cue, Lily strolls up behind you, completely unbothered and smug. “Hi babe,” she says sweetly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Alex pulls away from your hug just enough to look at her, still wide-eyed. “Did you both just—plan an ambush on me?”

“Obviously,” you and Lily say at the same time.

He laughs, almost breathless. “You two are terrorists. I’m calling mum.”

“I already did yesterday,” you reply, smirking. “She knew. She said, and I quote, ‘Don’t give him a heart attack, please.’”

Alex groans, burying his face in your shoulder again. “I’m gonna cry. No seriously, I might cry.”

You pat his back. “You’re allowed. But only if it’s ugly crying. We need the full drama.”

Lily pulls out her phone. “I’m recording just in case.”

He flips her off without looking. In the distance, you can hear someone yell “IS THAT YN??” followed by Lando loudly going “I told you she was hotter in person!”

You’ll deal with that chaos later. For now, it’s just you, your brother, and your best friend. And the first real moment in months where it feels like everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be.

—

You’re still tucked under Alex’s arm, half-leaning into the pit wall inside the Williams garage, laughing over some chaotic memory involving one of your childhood hamster funerals, when you feel Lily tap your leg.

“Don’t look now,” she mutters under her breath, “but your fans are approaching.”

You lift a brow. “Fans?”

She tilts her head toward the open paddock walkway. And there they are. George Russell and Carmen Mundt.

Not even subtle about it—walking suspiciously slow past the garage entrance, sunglasses on, heads angled just enough to catch a glimpse inside. George does a double take, then triple take. Carmen nearly walks into a catering cart because she’s so focused on not being obvious about looking. She is very obvious. Alex glances over and smirks.

“Oh my God,” he mutters. “What are they—are they circling the garage?”

“Like sharks,” Lily says. “Sharks that have a crush on your sister.”

“Should we wave?” you ask, already raising your hand.

“No,” Alex says, far too pleased with himself.

Before you can protest, Alex strides to the edge of the garage and calls out, very loudly, “GEORGE! CARMEN! You looking for someone or just lost?”

George freezes. Carmen tries to act casual but ends up bumping into George’s shoulder.

Alex waves them over. “Come say hi, you creeps.”

You try not to laugh as they walk over—George slightly flushed, Carmen attempting nonchalance with all the grace of someone who definitely spent the last ten minutes plotting this.

Alex leans casually against the wall and wraps an arm around your shoulders like he’s presenting a championship trophy. “You two know my very cool, smart, and famous little sister, YN, yeah?”

George’s eyes practically sparkle. “Oh, we’ve heard of her.”

Carmen grins, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. “Followed her for years, actually.”

Lily snorts quietly.

“YN,” Alex continues, tone smug as hell, “meet George—who enjoys listening to Taylor Swift before races and Carmen, who once almost tackled a PR intern because she thought they were taking her snacks.”

“That’s a lie,” Carmen says, blushing. “He was trying to steal the last brownie.”

“Fair,” you say, sticking your hand out. “I respect snack based violence.”

Carmen beams as she shakes your hand, maybe holding on a little longer than necessary. “Your posts from Morocco last month? Life-changing. You basically made me book a ticket.”

“Yeah, and that photo dump with the glitter robe?” George adds quickly. “Iconic. No notes.”

You blink. “You saw that?”

“I saw all of that,” George says, too fast, then freezes. “I mean—I just—you know. It was in the explore tab.”

Alex is grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “George, you okay? Bit red in the face, mate.”

George clears his throat. “No, yeah. All good. Just warm in here.”

“We’re in the shade,” Lily says dryly, sipping from her water bottle.

Carmen ignores all of them, eyes still on you. “I love that you’re here this weekend. Maybe we’ll see you around the paddock?”

“Oh, she’ll be around,” Alex says, way too cheerfully. “Attached to my side and/or sabotaging the team radios.”

“She’s welcome to sabotage mine anytime,” George mutters, then straightens up. “Not sabotage. I meant—guest commentary. You know. Enthusiastic support.”

You raise a brow, amused. “Noted.”

Carmen tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to look casual. “If you’re not doing anything later, you should come find us. There’s a little driver dinner after quali.”

Lily’s already smiling. “She’s free. We’re both free.”

George nods eagerly. “Perfect. Yeah. Great.”

Alex just shakes his head, laughing.

—

The restaurant is candlelit and fancy enough that Alex’s shirt has actual buttons. The long, private table is tucked onto a quiet terrace with a view of the paddock lights still glowing in the distance. Drivers are trickling in slowly—Max, Carlos, Lando, a few team personnel—and you’re tucked between Lily and Alex near the middle, your dress a little too pretty for the chaos you’ve been surrounded by all day. You spot them before they spot you.

George, all charm and cologne and crisp white shirt, walking alongside Carmen, who’s glowing in a silk dress.

“Oh no,” Alex mutters around a bite of bread. “The dynamic duo.”

“Be nice,” you hum, dabbing your mouth with a napkin.

“I’m being nice,” he says. “I’m also preparing myself to watch my best friend and his girlfriend flirt with my sister.”

Lily smirks. “Honestly, can’t wait.”

George spots you and lights up immediately.

“YN! You made it,” he says as he slides into the seat across from you—conveniently vacating the original place card.

Carmen swoops in a second later, gracefully sliding into the seat next to you, leaning in close with a conspiratorial grin. “I almost changed my outfit three times tonight. Now I’m glad I didn’t.”

You blink. “You look incredible. You could’ve come in a garbage bag and still won.”

“Oh, stop,” she says, smiling in that way that makes it hard to look away.

Across the table, George clears his throat and leans forward. “She’s right, though. You look amazing.”

“Me or Carmen?” you ask, feigning confusion.

“Yes,” George says, like it’s the most natural answer in the world.

You laugh, and Alex visibly clenches his jaw. “I need a drink.”

“I’ll get you one,” Carmen offers—already rising from her seat.

“I’ll come too,” George says, getting up at the exact same time.

They both stop and look at each other, frozen mid-step.

Lily sips her wine and whispers, “This is amazing.”

Carmen smiles, somehow angelic and savage. “You can grab the drinks, George. I’ll keep YN company.”

George narrows his eyes. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

You turn to Carmen, who leans on her elbow, close enough that her perfume mixes with the scent of the wine. “So,” she says, “are you always this good at crashing dinners and making half the grid fall in love with you?”

You raise a brow. “Half? That’s underestimating me.”

She laughs, and it’s soft and real, and you find yourself relaxing more than you have in days.

George returns moments later with a drink he clearly put effort into—sparkling, colorful, garnished with citrus and possibly some sort of effort-induced love potion. He sets it down in front of you and looks smug.

“Special request,” he says. “Told the bartender it had to be beautiful. Like you.”

Alex chokes on his water. Carlos, from three seats away, just whispers, “wow.”

“George,” you say, blinking at the drink, “did you just riz me with a mocktail?”

“If it worked, I won’t apologize.”

Carmen gives him a look. “Desperate times, huh?”

“You’re the one who changed seats to be closer to her,” he fires back.

“And you’re the one who literally sprinted to make her a drink.”

You glance between the two of them, holding back a smile. “You know I can hear both of you, right?”

They both turn to you at once.

“Just making sure you feel welcome,” Carmen says sweetly.

“Just making sure you don’t waste time with bad company,” George says, with a look that is not subtle.

Lily leans into Alex, who looks like he’s rethinking every life decision he’s ever made.

“Should we intervene?” she whispers.

Alex sighs. “No. Let them tire themselves out. She’ll pick the one who offers snacks first. That’s always the move.”

You smile, sipping the mocktail George brought you, while Carmen casually rests her hand on your chair, her fingers brushing the back of your shoulder like it means nothing. It’s going to be a long dinner. But you’re definitely not bored.

—

The dinner has long since faded into candle stubs and half empty wine glasses, drivers breaking off in pairs to catch early nights, debriefs, or one last drink. You step out into the cool night air, your heels clicking softly on the cobblestone path leading down the hotel driveway, Lily and Alex already ahead of you, arm in arm and lost in some shared joke. You’re about to call after them when you hear your name.

“YN—wait.”

You turn. Carmen, heels in hand now, jogging slightly to catch up. George is right behind her, loosened collar and flushed cheeks, the kind that say he’s had one drink too many or just been nervous all night.

“Escaping without saying goodbye?” Carmen asks, falling into step beside you.

“I was giving you a moment to catch up,” you say with a grin.

George shoves his hands in his pockets. “More like giving us a chance to psych ourselves up.”

You blink. “For what?”

The two of them exchange a glance—quick, nervous, familiar. It hits you then—how in sync they are. And how out of sync they’ve been all evening whenever you’re around. It’s like their rhythm shifts whenever you’re in orbit.

Carmen inhales, then exhales slowly. “Okay. So, this might be insane, but we’ve kind of been talking—”

“—for a while,” George adds quickly.

“And we were wondering,” she continues, stepping slightly in front of him now, “if you’d maybe… let us take you out?”

You raise a brow, heart skipping. “Both of you?”

George shrugs, sheepish but genuine. “We’re not exactly subtle, are we?”

You laugh, mostly because no, they’re not. The lingering glances, the drink wars, the not-so-quiet seat swapping at dinner—it’s all been loud in the most ridiculous, oddly sweet way.

“We figured if we waited any longer, someone else on the grid would try to beat us to it,” Carmen says, voice softer now. “And I don’t share well.”

“Unless it’s with me,” George adds, nudging her shoulder.

She smirks. “That’s different.”

The quiet settles between the three of you. It’s not awkward, though. It’s a little charged, a little hopeful, and very real.

You fold your arms and tilt your head, teasing. “So, let me get this straight. You’re asking if I want to go on a date—with both of you—after the race weekend, when you’re either wildly celebrating or emotionally spiraling?”

George grins. “Exactly.”

“We promise to be charming either way,” Carmen says, her fingers brushing your forearm.

You pause, pretend to think. “Only if it involves another one of George’s mocktails.”

They both lean in slightly, twin expressions of relief and excitement blooming across their faces.

“That’s a yes?” George asks.

You nod. “That’s a yes.”

Carmen’s smile turns a little dangerous, a little thrilled. “Good. Because I already had the outfits picked.”

“And I already booked the restaurant,” George admits.

You roll your eyes fondly. “So this wasn’t spontaneous at all.”

“Calculated risk,” Carmen says with a wink.

And as you fall into step with them—George on your left, Carmen on your right—you think maybe a little risk isn’t such a bad thing after all.

—

yn_albon

liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, georgerussell63 and 7,001,100 others.

yn_albon : idk what to caption this but i saw carlos sainz flirting with james vowles today.

tagged : carmenmmundt, alex_albon and lilymhe

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carlossainz55 : i was not flirting…james is just…very charismatic 🧍🏻‍♂️

liked by yn_albon

↳ yn_albon : it’s okay to be in love with ur boss carlos. i won’t tell

liked by carlossainz55

alex_albon : go weeyums!!!! (they do that all the time)

liked by yn_albon

↳ yn_albon : the longing looks r something else. felt like i was in a soap opera.

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williamsracing : we plead the fifth. GO WEEYUMS!!!!

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lilymhe : i was too busy staring at you. you are too hot.

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↳ alex_albon : was anyone actually watching me today???

liked by yn_albon and lilymhe

↳ yn_albon : not everything is about you alex. it’s called a team for a reason.

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carmenmmundt : so happy to be able to spend the day with the prettiest girl in the paddock 🤍

liked by yn_albon

↳ yn_albon : you are the best 🩷

liked by carmenmmundt

—

Carmen finds you outside the motorhome just before lights out, all white sunglasses and effortless grace, her Mercedes pass swinging around her neck like she was born with it. She grins as she approaches, and for a second, you forget the crowd around you—forget the chaos of race day, the roar of engines in the background, the crew rushing past with unreadable expressions. It’s just her.

“You ready?” she asks, nudging your arm gently with her elbow.

“I was born ready,” you say, even though your heart’s been beating at double speed since she texted, “Watch the race with me?”

You follow her to the viewing deck above the garage, where the sunlight is sharp and golden and the crowd noise blends into a distant hum. She leans on the railing next to you, arms crossed, head tilted toward the track—but her eyes keep flicking to you, like she’s more interested in your reactions than the timing screens.

Every time something happens—an overtake, a near miss, Alex making a brilliant move into Turn 1—Carmen taps your arm or gasps quietly or leans in just enough that you catch the faint scent of her perfume. At one point, she offers you a pair of headphones, only to lean closer and say, “But if you wear them, I can’t make dumb commentary in your ear the whole time.”

You don’t put them on.

Instead, you laugh and let her narrate the race in a running whisper that’s more gossip than strategy. And through it all—there’s this buzz. This something.

The way she rests her hand casually on your lower back when she leans over the rail. The way your shoulders brush, again and again, and neither of you pull away. The little inside jokes that start forming before lap twenty.

At one point, you’re both cheering wildly for Alex’s overtake, and you throw your arms up without thinking. Carmen grabs your hand and spins you dramatically, like you’re dancing in the middle of a champagne shower. You both burst out laughing, flushed from the sun and the shared joy, and she doesn’t let go of your hand right away.

“Best race day I’ve had in a while,” she says quietly, eyes locked on yours as the cheers from below echo around you.

“Same,” you reply, and your voice comes out softer than you expect.

For the rest of the race, she stands just a little closer. Says your name just a little more often. And by the time the checkered flag waves, you’re both already making plans for future races.

—

The restaurant is quiet, tucked away on a rooftop overlooking the city, warm lights casting a soft gold glow across the terrace. It’s not flashy, not the kind of place drivers usually get dragged to by sponsors or brands. It’s intimate, quiet, chosen with intention. You knew something was different the moment you stepped out of the car.

George was already waiting, shirt slightly unbuttoned, hands in his pockets, eyes lighting up when he saw you. Carmen had arrived with him, slipping her hand into yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Now, the three of you sit at a small round table under string lights, the city glittering behind you like someone scattered stars too close to earth. Dinner has come and gone, wine glasses nearly empty, dessert barely touched. It’s the silence that tips you off. Not awkward—comfortable. Full. George is watching you with the softest smile, like he’s memorizing the curve of your cheek. Carmen’s hand is resting just slightly over yours on the table, her thumb tracing gentle patterns along your skin.

You glance between them and raise a brow. “What?” you say, laughing lightly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

George leans forward, voice low and sure. “Because we’ve been waiting all night to say something.”

Carmen straightens slightly, her fingers curling more securely around yours. “We didn’t want to rush. We didn’t want to make it a thing until we were sure you felt it too.”

You blink, heart stuttering. “Felt what?”

George takes a breath. “This. Us. Whatever this has been—between the stolen glances and competing to make you laugh and the way you make it feel like everything slows down when you walk into a room. We’ve talked about it, a lot. And we just—”

“—we like you,” Carmen finishes, eyes bright and unwavering. “Together. As… us. Not just one of us. Not competing. Just us.”

Your breath catches. They’re both so open. So sure. Carmen reaches across the table with her free hand, taking George’s. “We don’t want to confuse you or pressure you. But if there’s even a part of you that wants this too… we’d really like to be yours. If you’d be ours.”

There’s no big speech. No drama. Just honesty. Just two people you’ve somehow fallen into orbit with—who’ve made you laugh and blush and feel more seen than you’ve felt in a long, long time. You look at George. At Carmen. At the way they’re already sharing something so strong and steady between them—and yet still made room for you. Your voice is quiet, but sure.

“I do feel it. I’ve been feeling it since… Monaco, probably. And I didn’t know what to do with it. Because this felt impossible.” You laugh, breathless. “But now it feels kind of perfect.”

George exhales, smiling so wide it looks like relief. Carmen brings your hand to her lips and kisses your knuckles. “So… is that a yes?”

You nod, eyes glassy, voice thick with something you didn’t expect to feel tonight. “Yeah. It’s a yes.”

George stands first, pulling your chair out with one hand and helping you up with the other, his touch lingering, reverent. Carmen slips an arm around your waist, and George’s hand finds the small of your back as they guide you to the edge of the terrace. The city stretches out in front of you. The stars are closer now.

And when they lean in—first Carmen pressing her lips to your cheek, then George brushing his nose against yours before placing a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth—it doesn’t feel overwhelming. It feels like something beginning.

—

several weeks later…

Your birthday doesn’t feel like your birthday. There’s no cake, no chaos, no Alex yelling off-key from the other room while Lily throws glitter at your head. No extra- tight hugs from George. No light forehead kisses from Carmen. There’s just… work.

You’re in New York, stuck in meetings and content shoots for a brand launch you should be excited about. But the apartment they’ve put you in is cold in that expensive, too-white way. You’ve got cupcakes from a PR box and flowers from people you’ve never met, and your phone has dozens of “Happy Birthday!!!” texts that make your screen light up and still leave you feeling completely alone.

You curl up on the couch in your pajamas that night, bare-faced and tired, a blanket around your shoulders as the skyline blinks outside the window. You sent Alex a photo earlier—of your sad little cupcake and a candle that refused to stay lit—but he didn’t answer. Neither did Lily.

You figured Carmen and George would call. Maybe FaceTime you together and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But it’s almost midnight, and all you’ve got is silence. Until— knock knock knock. You frown.

No one knows you’re here. Not the building. Not the brand team. Not even your manager. You rise slowly, wrapping the blanket around yourself tighter as you cross to the door. You peek through the peephole.

And immediately stumble back, because—

“OPEN THE DOOR,” someone whispers through the wood.

You fling it open. Alex is standing there in a ridiculous party hat, grinning, arms wide open.

“Surprise!” he shouts.

“WHAT—” you start, eyes wide, but then Lily appears from behind him, holding a tray of homemade cookies and a box with your actual baby photo printed on it.

And then Carmen steps out from behind them, looking criminally good in sweatpants and a crop top, holding a tote bag with confetti spilling out.

And George—George—pokes his head in last, holding a bouquet that’s bigger than his torso.

Your breath leaves your lungs in one big, stunned exhale. “You’re all—here?”

“Happy birthday, loser,” Alex says, pulling you into the biggest hug, practically lifting you off the ground.

Lily hugs you second, tighter, whispering, “You didn’t think we’d let you spend today alone, did you?”

You’re already crying when Carmen cups your face. “I know you said you were okay, but you didn’t sound okay. And we weren’t going to let this pass without showing up.”

George presses a kiss to your forehead as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Plus, I missed you. Also, I really needed an excuse to eat cake.”

They come inside like they’ve always belonged there. Alex sets up music from his phone while Lily lays out snacks from a suitcase like she packed an entire party. Carmen pulls a birthday crown from her bag and puts it directly on your head, and George pops open a bottle of something bubbly while asking, “Did we miss dinner, or are we ordering five pizzas?”

Within ten minutes, your apartment feels like home. There’s laughter bouncing off the walls, confetti in the air, candles finally staying lit, and the people you love most in the world—all here. For you. At one point, you’re sitting on the couch with Carmen curled into your side, George stretched out with his head on your lap, Lily painting Alex’s nails while he argues about color choices—and it hits you. This is everything.

Not the flowers from brands or the influencer trips or the shiny gifts you’ll probably forget about in a month. Just this. The people who show up. You smile through your happy tears, and Carmen tilts her head to look up at you.

“What are you thinking?” she asks softly.

“That I might cry again,” you admit, voice cracking.

George shifts to press a kiss to your knee. “Good. We were going for tears.”

Alex raises his bottle. “To YN. The best sister, the most chaotic human being, and now—officially—another year older.”

You all clink glasses. And in that moment, surrounded by love, laughter, and far too much frosting—you feel exactly how you should on your birthday. Not alone. Not forgotten. So, so loved.

—

The next morning, you’re woken by someone aggressively playing the Spider-Man 2 theme song through a portable speaker. You sit up in bed, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, only to find Alex standing in the middle of your apartment with a bagel in one hand and a foam Statue of Liberty crown already on his head.

“Rise and shine, birthday brat,” he declares. “It’s your New York day. And I am your guide.”

“You’ve been here once, Carmen says, sipping coffee in a silk robe from your kitchen. “And you got lost in Central Park.”

George walks in from the balcony, wearing sunglasses and holding a laminated tour map. “Ladies and gentlemen, the group itinerary.”

“Absolutely not,” you groan, pulling the covers over your face.

“Absolutely yes,” Lily says sweetly, throwing a pair of “I ❤️ NY” socks at your head. “You’ve been working nonstop. Today is pure chaos. We’re being annoying. We’re being tourists. We’re buying matching shirts.”

—

You start the day in Central Park because, apparently, Alex woke up with the unshakable conviction that ‘bike rides = wholesome bonding.’ He’s already at the rental kiosk when the rest of you catch up, dramatically arguing with the attendant about whether he can get one with a basket.

Carmen and George are dressed like they’re shooting a Vogue travel spread—she in oversized sunnies and a windbreaker you know she stole from George’s closet; he in perfectly tailored shorts and the exact amount of smug. You, in contrast, are in leggings and a hoodie with a coffee in one hand and a deep mistrust of physical activity in the other.

“Ready to race?” George asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Lily raises an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m above humiliation?”

She takes off like a shot before anyone can answer. George yells “CHEATER!” and tears after her, nearly taking out a toddler and an elderly pug in the process.

You and Carmen opt for the scenic route. You pedal slowly through tree-lined paths while she keeps one hand on the handlebars and the other on your arm whenever she wants to point something out. She tells you stories from her first visit to New York with her uni friends, and you tell her how surreal it feels to be here now, like this—with them.

Halfway through the ride, Alex crashes dramatically into a bush, claiming he was “distracted by nature.” You’re crying from laughing so hard, and George has the audacity to pull out his phone and snap a picture.

Carmen kisses your cheek at a stoplight and whispers, “This already feels like the best day.”

The next stop you begged them not to go. Alex insisted. George supported him purely out of chaos.

It’s exactly what you expected—overstimulating, overpacked, and full of things you don’t want to touch without washing your hands. Carmen wraps a scarf around your head like a disguise while Lily buys hot dogs that may or may not be edible.

Alex immediately takes photos with every off-brand costumed character: a saggy Elmo, a sun-faded Batman, a Hello Kitty with glowing red eyes. “It’s for culture,” he says. “You can’t fight me on this. I was born here spiritually.”

George, meanwhile, ends up cornered by someone selling knockoff sunglasses. He nearly buys three before Carmen drags him away by the collar.

You finally agree to take one touristy group selfie. It takes eight tries because Alex keeps blinking, Carmen keeps kissing your cheek, and George keeps trying to photobomb his own photo.

When you check your camera roll later, one of the blurry pics is your favorite—you, surrounded by all of them, laughing mid-moment, chaos frozen in time.

George announces this stop with the gravity of an F1 team principal revealing new car upgrades.

“There are three key stops. First, Joe’s. Second, Prince Street. Third, the little place in Brooklyn I won’t name because it’s my spot.”

You make it through the first location with only mild cheese-induced burns. George insists on rating every slice like it’s Michelin-tier, even writing notes in his phone. 

Lily walks past him and mutters, “You sound like a guy describing his ex.”

At the second stop, Alex tries to eat an entire slice in one bite and ends up with sauce in his nose. Carmen refuses to share hers. George offers you a bite of his, only to “accidentally” brush your nose with sauce so he can wipe it off with a napkin and an absurd amount of smugness. Carmen retaliates by handing you her last bite and dramatically saying, “Because I actually care about your well-being.” By the third stop, you’re full, a little greasy, and completely, blissfully happy.

 The next stop starts off tame. You wander the galleries, the lighting cool and soft, the mood respectful. It lasts ten minutes.

Alex reads the name of every piece in a fake posh accent. 

George gets stopped by a group of teen art students who ask if he’s that “guy from TikTok,” and he leans in with a totally serious, “Only if you don’t tell my team principal I’m here instead of doing sim work.”

Lily attempts to interpret a Jackson Pollock painting as “Alex’s emotional state after Quali,” and honestly? It fits.

Carmen lingers behind with you in the more abstract galleries. She slips her fingers between yours and murmurs, “I think you are more beautiful than any of this art.” 

You blink at her. “Are you flirting in a museum?”

She smirks. “Can’t help it. You look good under gallery lighting.”

You’re still blushing when a security guard walks by and clears his throat, clearly done with your group’s nonsense.

—

By the time you reach the bridge, the sun is low, painting the skyline in gold and rose and streaks of violet. Carmen hands you an iced drink she somehow smuggled from the last café. George is already halfway up the incline with Alex, both loudly arguing over “who’s more photogenic in silhouettes.”

You walk slower. Lily’s taking photos behind you, catching little moments—you laughing with Carmen, George adjusting your scarf because the wind caught it, Alex mid-jump trying to be “cinematic.”

It’s calm in that surreal, glowing way New York sometimes is. Carmen wraps an arm around you, chin on your shoulder. George loops his arm over both of yours from behind, resting his chin on Carmen.

“I want this forever,” he says softly.

You don’t say anything. You don’t have to. They feel your answer in the way your hand finds theirs, in the way your eyes shine in the light.

—

They sneak you upstairs, Carmen covering your eyes with her hands while George hums Happy Birthday off-key. When they pull their hands away, there’s cake, string lights, paper crowns, and a banner that definitely says “YN IS A MENACE” in Alex’s handwriting.

Lily cues up music. Alex opens champagne like he’s won a Grand Prix. George tries to light sparklers and nearly sets his sleeve on fire. Carmen gets frosting on her cheek and doesn’t wipe it off until you lean in and do it for her.

There’s dancing. Loud, stupid, no-one’s-watching dancing. There’s a slow song that none of you can name, but Carmen tugs you into a sway, and George wraps his arms around both of you.

They sing Happy Birthday again. Off-key. Too loud. Perfectly you. And later, much later, as you sit barefoot on the rooftop with your legs in Carmen’s lap and George tracing circles on your knee, you close your eyes and think— This is the best birthday you’ve ever had. Not because of the city or the food or the sights. Because of them. Your people. Your chaos. Your heart.

—

yn_albon

liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and 9,010,107 others.

yn_albon : best birthday ever because i spent it with all my favorite ppl 🩷 love you all so much.

tagged : georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and alex_albon

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lando : happy birthday yn!

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alex_albon : happiest of birthdays to my favorite menace! love you!

liked by yn_albon

lilymhe : love you my sweet girl! hope it was the best birthday ever❤️

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carmenmmundt : our pretty girl!! love you so much

liked by yn_albon

georgerussell63 : id say alex and i were very stellar tour guides 🤣 happy birthday beautiful! love you forever

liked by yn_albon

—

f1gossipgirls

3,012,002 likes.

f1gossipgirls : George Russell was caught kissing not longtime girlfriend Carmen Mundt, but her very close friend YN Albon—yes, Alex Albon’s sister and mega influencer. The steamy moment was snapped outside a SoHo café, and naturally, fans are spiraling. Last we checked, George and Carmen were still very much together—so is this a cheating scandal? An open relationship? Or something even messier? And before you say it—yes, Carmen was spotted in New York earlier this week. Yes, with YN. Yes, they were holding hands. No, we don’t know what’s going on either.

—

The photo is everywhere. You wake up to it—your phone vibrating endlessly on the nightstand, screen flooded with texts and notifications. It takes one swipe and a blurry blink to register what’s happening. Splashed across every F1 gossip account, tabloids, Twitter threads, Reddit forums already three theories deep. The angle is unforgiving—paparazzi-level candid, your hand curled into his hoodie, George smiling against your lips like you’re his entire world. Your stomach flips—not from guilt, but from the timing. Because the world doesn’t know the truth. Not yet. Not about you and George. Not about Carmen, either. You scroll down. The headlines are brutal.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until a FaceTime call blares across the screen. It’s Carmen. You freeze. Heart in your throat. She speaks before you can even say hello.

“Have you seen it?” she asks, voice low, hair still wet from her morning shower.

“Yeah,” you croak.

There’s a pause—heavy but not cold. Then she exhales, soft and steady. “George is already pacing the kitchen. He’s on his third coffee. I think he’s trying to rewrite time.”

You let out a small, surprised laugh. Then, more quietly, “Are you okay?”

She smiles gently. “I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re asking. Just tired of pretending. Tired of people thinking we’re lying, or worse—hurting each other.”

“I didn’t mean for it to—”

“I know,” she interrupts. “God, YN, it’s us. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Just…” She sighs. “Do you think it’s time?”

Before you can answer, George joins the call, sliding into frame with a frown that melts the second he sees you. He’s still in sweatpants, hair messy, worry written across every feature.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurts. “I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve checked who was around—”

“George,” Carmen cuts in gently. “We’re not mad. We’re just… tired of hiding.”

He nods slowly. “I didn’t like watching people call me a cheater when all I was doing was kissing someone I love.”

That word hangs in the air—love. You feel your chest tighten. Carmen notices. Of course she does.

“We all love each other,” she says quietly. “We’re in this together, yeah?”

You nod, throat thick. “Yeah. Together.”

“So we tell them?” George asks. “Everything? The three of us? No secrets, no damage control?”

Carmen looks at you. “Do you want this to be real in the open? Because I do. I want to hold your hand in the paddock. I want to stop pretending you’re just Alex’s little sister. I want people to know that you’re mine— ours.”

Your eyes sting. You don’t even hesitate. “I want that too.”

George exhales like he’s been holding the words in since the post dropped. “Okay. We do it. Together.”

He reaches for Carmen’s hand offscreen. Carmen looks straight into the camera and says, “Let’s write the truth before someone else tries to write it for us.”

You smile. And for the first time that morning, your hands stop shaking.

—

georgerussell63

liked by yn_albon, lilymhe, carmenmmundt and 7,010,001 others.

georgerussell63 : love looks a little different on us. but it’s real. and it’s ours. 💙

tagged : yn_albon and carmenmmundt

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[vrystalius]

Hi, again :"D I know I bother you a lot but could I send one more ask... You recently did "Hashira reacting to your affection" and I absolutely loved it and was curious, could you do a "Muzan/UpperMoons reacting to your affection"? Okay, I'll stop bugging you now. (One more thing, please continue writing. I love your posts and look forward to every single one :D)

Upper moons + Muzan’s reaction to your affections

How will your demon s/o reaction to your affections?

Pairing: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x fem!reader

Typs of affection include: Kisses, hugs and cuddles, affectionate nibbling/biting, compliments

(Mentioning of Douma wanting to crawl into your body for warmth)

Muzan Kibutsuji

Kisses: 8/10

Muzan doesn’t like initiating the kiss. He fears it may make him look desperate and needy for your affection. He certainly does not need your kisses! He’s the demon king after all. But your lips are just addicting to him. The taste, the warmth, the moisture, the smell even. Muzan just can’t help but be pouty and pissy when you don’t kiss him for an extensive amount of time, but will refuse to come to you first.

Kisses onto his lips are his most preferred ones since they take time and are the most romantic. When you lean in, Muzan would pull you closer with a small, sly smirk, while holding you by your chin. He would hum approvingly before letting you pull away.

Cheek kisses are the most convenient to him, but he doesn’t always react to your kiss. He might be busy with his research or experimenting, meaning Muzan isn’t really available for a regular kiss. That’s the only time he’ll accept a cheek kiss instead of a regular kiss.

Muzan dislikes forehead kisses, both giving and receiving. In his mind, those are reserved for children and elders.

Sneaking up on this man is impossible, meaning you cannot surprise him with neck kisses. He does not like receiving them. Muzan will allow you a single kiss on his neck before he’ll scowl and glare at you, intimidating you into stopping your antics this instant. But on the other end, he absolutely loves burying his face in your neck and grazing his teeth against your skin, placing a kiss here and there. He loves to gently bite down onto your skin, just until it draws blood, and then lick it away. Again, you’re an uttermost delicacy.

“Stop hiding, I know you’re there. Simply come up to me and give me a proper kiss. No need for those theatrics.”

Hugs and cuddles: 7/10

Muzan is giving up his precious time, the time he could be spending somewhere more important like planning Ubuyashiki’s downfall, or holding an Upper Moon meeting, to hold you in bed while you sleep. Feeling your body rest against his makes him feel peaceful, as if his busy mind(s) can finally relax and slip into a meditative state. The closest he can get to sleep.

He’d run his fingers through your hair and wonder to himself: how did he manage to grow so soft for you? He feels utterly smitten and pathetic.

Muzan is not very fond of hugs though. He feels a little awkward for some reason. He associates hugs with his other human wives, the ones he does not care for and the ones he uses for his own benefit. They are nowhere near you. Hugs are a tool to come closer to those women, so Muzan doesn’t want to look at you as a tool for his own needs. You are his lover, his partner.

When you initiate the hug, he doesn’t mind as much. Muzan would pat your back and then quickly let go again. Although, he likes hugging you in bed, holding you for hours on end.

“The Upper Moons will wait. I wish to hold you for longer, you still seem tired.”

Affectionate nibbling/biting: 5/10

Muzan will tolerate your biting and nibbling at best, but will command you to stop at worst. You could break your delicate teeth by his thick skin if you’re not careful. He’ll sometimes to bury his face into your neck and nibble against your skin, as if teasing himself with your alluring taste. If Muzan bites down too hard, he could make you bleed or even kill you. Yet, the thought of tasting your blood on his tongue is very entertaining to him. But he will restrain himself. Muzan does not want to harm you in any way, after all.

“I will leave my mark on your collarbone. Do not cover it up.”

Compliments: 7/10

Words are meaningless to him, yet Muzan values your opinion and thoughts the most. He prides himself by your praises and compliments. Muzan smirks when you compliment his appearance or fashion sense. Those are some things he values the most about himself and he is glad that you acknowledged it. He might thank you with a silent nod or a smirk.

He also likes watching your reactions to his praises, how your face flushes a little and your lips tilt upwards slightly. Muzan knows how to tell a person all the things they want to hear in order to manipulate them, but he just compliments you in order to fluster you and maybe earn a kiss from you.

“Thank you, my sunlight. Your beauty never fails to enchant me. It’s almost dangerous, don’t you think?”

Kokushibo

Kisses: 7/10

Everytime Kokushibo kisses you, he stops and just states at you for a moment to take in the feeling that is rising in his stomach. Kissing you strangely feels nostalgic of something he cannot quite put his finger on. Due to him wanting to become the strongest swordsman, he denies himself affection subconsciously, so he rarely initiates kissing. That doesn’t mean that Kokushibo doesn’t want affection or doesn’t like it, he just believes he doesn’t deserve it. Therefore, you have to show him that he does deserve your kisses.

Regular kisses feel very intimate to him and are by far Kokushibo’s favourite. He likes it when you take him by the chin and press your lips against his. His face would instantly relax and all six of his eyes would close for just a moment, savouring your taste and warmth.

Cheek kisses are a little more complicated given that he doesn’t really have any cheeks. So either you’d have to place a kiss on the eyelid of his closed lower eyes, or kiss him on his jaw. Kissing him on his eye will earn you a weird look from his lower two eyes. Kissing his jaw will make Kokushibo smirk ever so slightly.

Forehead kisses are just as complicated as cheek kisses, since his forehead is occupied by his upper eyes. Kissing his eyelids again will resolve in Kokushibo staring at you in confusion and offer you a regular kiss instead.

He will not react when you kiss his neck. The only reaction you will get is the tensing of his neck muscles and a quiet glare. In the meantime, Kokushibo prides himself in making you squirm and gasp, meaning he will learn everything about your body just to tease specific reactions out, and that includes the sensitivity of your neck. He’d silently bury his face into your neck after a particularly long training session or a stressful meeting, and just savour the taste of your skin.

“Affection is a distraction, but I will tolerate it. I do not seem to mind yours.”

Hugs and cuddles: 9/10

If Kokushibo is giving up his time to cuddle with you, this demon is utterly smitten for you. He will hold you close near his body, his hand running up and down your delicate body and smooth skin. His lower and upper eyes are closed, demonstrating how much he truly trusts you by lowering his guard severely. Kokushibo sometimes rests his head on your chest and stomach and will silently ask you to run your fingers through his thick, long hair. He doesn’t like to admit it, but Kokushibo purrs. His chest will rumble and vibrate against you when he’s especially content with your cuddling.

Kokushibo cherishes your hugs greatly. Again, he will not ask for them or initiate them and will instead wait until you embrace him first. Once you do, he will not let go until he savoured your presence for long enough. He is too proud to admit that he craves your presence though.

“I do not need comfort. I am beyond such things… Let go? I will not.”

Affectionate biting/nibbling: 4/10

Kokushibo will not react when you bite down onto his lip, hand or wherever else. He will not entertain your antics either and won’t offer you any body parts (he did think about offering you his fleshy katana as some sort of chewing toy).

On the other side, Kokushibo sometimes entertains the thought of biting down onto your skin. He is a demon after all, although he has enough self restrain to not do it. Instead, he’ll leave hickeys on your neck and collarbone.

“Enough. Do not test me. Do you not realise the risk of provoking me?”

Compliments: 10/10

Kokushibo prides himself by listening to your praise and values them by far the most. He values your compliments about his strength and physique in particular, those are the ones that remind him how far he has gone and how strong he truly is. He will dismiss your words but is cherishing them deep down. If he notices that your praises are wavering and lessening, Kokushibo will start feeling jealousy. Why are you not admiring anymore? Is his power faltering? Is there someone else you admire more than him? He should’ve known better than to fall for your alluring words.

But once you offer another praise for him, his insecure thoughts quieten down again for a while.

“Do not waste your breath on flattery… Although I will continue to allow it.”

Douma

Kisses: 9/10

Your kiss is one of the most favourite things in the whole world to him (besides eating humans). Your kisses are like energy to him, and Douma’ll become sluggish and pouty when you don’t give him his daily required amount of smooches. He loves it when you cup his cheeks with both of your hands and pull him onto your lips. Douma will say “Mwah” and do over-exaggerated kissing noises, kissing your lips and the area around them over and over. Also, he doesn’t care if other people are present and watching. They are below him anyway, so why should they care? So what if Douma loves his woman very much? If he wants to, he’d make out with you all day!!

Regular kisses taste well, so he prefers them! Douma will never get tired of the taste of your lips and will try to turn the innocent kiss into a make-out session get more of you.

Cheek kisses feel innocent and charming. They make him grin and want to pull you back to him for more. Also, those are more acceptable to do around the followers. When you kiss Douma normally and pull him a little closer, some will side-eye you and maybe whisper amongst themselves. Especially the elders, they’re the most judgemental for some reason. But they don’t seem to mind the cheek kisses.

Forehead kisses feel oddly motherly for Douma, therefore he doesn’t really like them. He likes being pampered and coddled, but not… in that way. When you kiss him like that, his eyes look empty for just a split second while his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But once you look at him, his expression looks cheerful again.

Once you start kissing his neck though, it’s game on for him. Douma would trap you either against a wall or in his arm and begin his attack on your poor neck: kisses, bites, hickeys, everything. He is a sadist at heart and gets enjoyment out of your squeals and attempts to escape his sweet assault.

“Do not pay attention to them, I want my darling to appreciate me as much as I appreciate her! Go on now, you haven’t finished loving me properly.”

Hugs and cuddles: 10/10

Douma loves your cuddles, especially when YOU initiate them! It makes him incredibly happy when you come to him and sit down onto his lap and cuddle him. He won’t be able to stop grinning and will bury his face in either your cleavage or find his place between your legs when you not sit ok his lap. Douma absolutely loves skin-to-skin contact, even though you might squirm away at first because of his cold skin suddenly touching you. He will blow raspberries into your cleavage and into your neck, and then nibble around until either a hickey develops or you start bleeding. Douma is incredibly greedy when it comes to your cuddles. He sometimes doesn’t even want you to touch any other cultist, not even offering them a hand. Your skin contact is only reserved for him.

Hugs are similar. Douma adores getting your hugs. They feel so warm and welcoming, he wished he could just melt right against you. Maybe even into you. Oh to crawl under your skin and just bask in the warmth of your organs, feeling them squirm around. You probably smell absolutely divine.

That fantasy, to open your stomach up and huddle up inside you, is how he imagines Eternal Paradise. Your warmth surrounding him everywhere, as you’re hugging and holding him from all sides. Sadly, you’re a human, and he wants to keep you around until you grow old and perish. Maybe you want to become a demon so you could live longer? Oh how fun that would be! If you want, he’d even let you crawl inside of him!

“Oh you’re just the sweetest, aren’t you? If you hold me like this, I might just eat you up!… What? No, I was kidding! Why are you looking at me like that?”

Affectionate nibbling/biting: 8/10

Douma would do it himself. Sometimes, he would just take your hand and nibble on your finger, then move on with his day. If you do it, he’ll do it back to you. Everytime you bite him or nibble onto his skin, Douma watches you with big eyes, as if analysing and learning from you. He might pout if you don’t bite down hard enough. Douma can barely even feel you through his thick skin! He’d nuzzle into your neck while you’re biting him. He might even pull on your skin a little.

“You taste diviiiiiine!~ Would you let me bite just a little harder? Your blood goes perfectly with the taste of your skin!”

Compliments: 5/10

Douma has been praised and drowned in compliments all his life. He values your words over the ones of his followers any day and will take your praises to heartHe will smile at your words and thank you, but his cheery smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Aren’t you the sweetest, dear lotus~”

Akaza

Kisses: 7/10

He can’t quite handle kisses yet. They make Akaza stiffen up and blush brightly every time you surprise him with them. He’s not used to your love and affection yet, so will try to copy your gestures and kiss you as well. Akaza tries to give you as much affection as you give to him, but sometimes forgets to do it. Your kiss reminds him to give you your deserved affection.

Regular kisses make him jerk a little when you do them randomly. But he’ll relax fairly quickly and melt against your lips. His hands would subconsciously wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him. Akaza craves your kiss and he’s not being subtle about it.

Cheek kisses make his face flush in a bright red. He might even hide his face from you and look mad at you. Don’t worry, he’s just mad at himself for being smitten for you so easily.

Forehead kisses make him feel loved. Akaza likes how you cup his cheeks and pull him downwards a little, kissing his forehead. He’ll close his eyes and savour the feeling of your lips against his cool skin.

One time, you nuzzled into Akaza’s neck and started placing gentle kisses all around. He flinched so heard he turned around and almost punched a hold through your body. You learned to not scare him like that again. How did he not sense you anyway? Does he feel this safe in your presence?

“Don’t scare me like that again.”

Hugs and cuddles: 9/10

Akaza is not good with words or gestures, so he feels like he’s expressing his love to you while cuddling. He feels incredibly honoured when you come to him first. You want to cuddle with him? Yes, a thousand times yes. C’mere.

Akaza also loves it when you cuddle him while laying on top of him and all his muscles. While he’s relaxed they are squishy and are perfectly good pillows to relax onto. Especially his pecks. But also, Akaza loves to lay on top of you. He tries not to be too heavy on you, but he just adores to savour your warmth and body beneath him. Just like the kisses, he craves your touch and cuddles desperately.

When you hug him, he stiffens up. Where should he put his hands? Is it okay to wrap them around your waist? Or should he just hover his hand over your body? So, Akaza just awkwardly stands there, with his hands hovering over your body. But once he melts into your touch, he’d close his eyes and hold you for a very long while. Akaza is incredibly touch starved. He needs to be held. Desperately.

“Can we lay down for a sec? Just finished my training anyway and… I kinda missed you.”

Affectionate biting/nibbling: 4/10

Akaza will think that you’re challenging him. He will try to bite you back, but gently. Like a confused puppy. He’d then glance at your face, trying to see if he did what you wanted.

“Are you hungry or something…?”

Compliments: 6/10

Akaza would react very awkwardly at first. He’s very happy when you praise his strength and power. It makes him feel a little prideful and he might answer with a cocky grin or a small nod.

Complimenting something personal about him, for example his loyalty, protectiveness or smile makes him feel incredible awkward. Akaza would blush and try to hide how flustered he gets. He’ll maybe even get angry at how easily he starts to blush and accidentally deflect his anger at you.

“You don’t need to say things like that… but thank you anyway…”

💠

Hope you enjoyed this @pickmans-muse <3

I was planning on writing this anyway, but you requesting this made me extremely happy!! Thank you for requesting!! I may have neglected Akaza a little. I really love him though! I just got really tired and wanted to finish this! That’s also why I left Gyutaro out, I probably will make an extra part for him. Also, guess who my favourite demon is if it’s not obvious enough :P

I seriously love reading all your comments and reblogs, you’re all so so sweet <33

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3