#f3 × reader

[rubywillkins]

Hi! Can I get Pepe marti with Dark Mocha, whipped cream, soy milk, hemp milk, omelette, bruschetta, hot dog, Beef stoganoff, Butter fried chicken, and club soda? Thank you!

Sure darling ♥️

Pepe Marti |

Under the spotlight

Pairing pepe marti × female reader

Dark Mocha dating, whipped cream sweet sex, soy milk oral sex, hemp milk squirting, omelette blind fold, bruschetta edging, hot dog Size kink, beef stoganoff "you can take it, you've done it before" butter fried chicken "slowly, baby, I'm not going anywhere", club soda pillow talk

The paddock had fallen silent, the roar of engines replaced by the soft hum of the night. Pepe Marti leaned against the wall of his garage, his fireproofs tied loosely at his waist. The day had been intense, the physical toll of practice evident in the ache of his muscles. But his thoughts weren’t on the track anymore—they were on her.

Y/n.

She’d texted him earlier, promising an escape from the chaos. And as always, Her presence felt like the only antidote to the adrenaline-fueled frenzy of his life.

When he walked out to the lot, there you were, waiting by his car. Her sundress hugged her curves, fluttering softly in the breeze. She looked tiny next to the hulking machine, her stature dwarfed even more as she glanced up at him, her smile lighting up the dark.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

She laughed softly, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. “Figured you could use some downtime.”

They drove to a cozy café tucked into a quiet street, far from the paddock’s buzz. Inside, it was intimate—dim lighting, soft jazz, and small tables designed to bring people closer. Pepe’s broad shoulders barely fit in the booth, and Y/n couldn’t help but smirk as he adjusted himself, his size commanding attention wherever he went.

“Do you ever feel out of place, being so… big?” she teased, her eyes glinting with mischief.

He chuckled, reaching for her hand across the table. “Only when I’m with you. You make me feel like a giant.”

Her lips curved into a sly smile. “I don’t mind. Makes me feel delicate. Safe.”

Pepe’s thumb brushed over her knuckles, his gaze turning softer. “You are delicate. And I’ll always make sure you’re safe.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, the playful banter giving way to something deeper. By the time they left the café, her hand tucked securely in his, the atmosphere between them had shifted.

Back at the hotel, the tension was palpable. As soon as the door clicked shut, Pepe’s hands found her waist, pulling her against his chest. She looked so small in his arms, her head barely reaching his chin as he tilted her face up to his.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n’s hands rested on his chest, her fingers barely spanning its width. “Maybe I like driving you crazy.”

He chuckled low, the sound rumbling through her. “Careful, baby. You might get more than you bargained for.”

Before she could respond, his lips claimed hers, the kiss slow but deliberate. He scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her to the bed like she weighed nothing.

Her small frame seemed to disappear beneath his as he hovered over her, his hands trailing down her sides. The contrast between them made her breath hitch—the breadth of his shoulders, the sheer strength in his arms.

“You’re so little,” he murmured, his voice thick with adoration. “I feel like I could break you.”

“You won’t,” she whispered, her voice trembling with both anticipation and trust.

Pepe’s hands traced her curves, his touch both reverent and possessive. “You’re perfect,” he said, his tone almost a growl. “Every inch of you.”

"wait, I want to try something new", he said... He blind folded you... And you let him do ... You were enjoying whatever he was doing...

He started kissing you again from lips to breasts... Breasts to your clit... He started to suck on your clit.. you arching your back from pure pleasure... He was eating you out like a hungry animal who didn't have food from days..."

You taste so good y/n... So good" he said just just above your cunt.. you feeling his breath on your most sensitive area.. he started sucking your pussy again but this time his mouth was not alone... He was fucking you with his two fingers too... It was rough, raw just how you like.. but at the same time it was sweet.. even for a slight second you didn't feel disrespectd..

Suddenly you feel a knot in your stomach and you squirt on his face... "Babe.. look you made mess babe" he said while enjoying the mess he created..

He inserted his dick inside you... He didn't give the time to adjust and starts to thurst in to your soft pussy..

"babe,.. I can't you're so big.." you said whimpering...

"you can take it, you've done it before"

He said while removing and reinserting his dick again into your pussy...

He gradually increase his speed.. gently pounding into you... It was fast yet gentle...

"slowly, baby, I'm not going anywhere"

You said in his ears slowly moaning his name... That turned him on more..

Just when you were about to came he withdraw his dick from you... Just to tease you..

"babe please, no edging after making me feel so good... i was just about to come..." "Arghh... Pls insert it back.." you said craving for his dick more...

He insert his dick again.. inside you...this time it was a bit slow..but the duration was long.. he wanted to makeup for all the teasings..

He was so good in making you feel good...

You both came together..

Afterward, you both lay tangled beneath the sheets, your small frame nestled against his. You rested your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.

“You know,” you said softly, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin, “I love how big you are.”

Pepe smirked, his hand stroking her back. “Oh yeah?”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your cheeks flushed but your eyes bright. “You make me feel… tiny. In the best way. Like I’m completely yours.”

His expression softened, his fingers brushing her cheek. “That’s because you are, Y/n. Every part of you is mine, just like every part of me belongs to you.”

Your lips curved into a shy smile as you settled back against him, his arms wrapping protectively around you. “You make me feel safe, Pepe. And loved.”

“And you make me feel whole,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair.

The night streched on, filled with quite whispers and soft touches . For Pepe, it wasn't just another race weekend- it was a reminder that no matter what happened on the track, she was his greatest win.

[dedeinthewild]

lando norris x reader, no labels

-“Oh my god. You did cut it.”

summary : the fluff isn't here anymore, no more unruly curls on the back of his neck. She has a mission, and while Lando keeps falling for her, so do his fans.

Home tasted like the sausage rolls eaten on the grandstand chairs at Silverstone, and the clouds looming over the track, forcing them into cozy hoodies in a vain attempt to warm up a bit. It knew about stepping onto the track with no real goal—just to let her have some fun, to bring her along while he did a few laps ahead of the upcoming British Grand Prix, after a few weeks spent apart because of their schedules.

Some said she was the female version of him. The clothes, probably once hanging in Lando’s wardrobe; the way she adjusted her hair—not the pilot’s curls, but her own, soft and feathery; the way she burst out laughing at something silly and couldn't stop clutching her stomach for a while. It might’ve been annoying, how alike they were—if it hadn’t been so spot-on. And over time, they’d become a duo people loved: Lando always wanting her around whenever they were filming something for Quadrant, bringing her from behind the camera—with her sweet smile—into the spotlight, something she still wasn’t quite used to.

That time, the Brit had convinced her to go for a spin on the track with him, in the two-seater that the team had prepped just for the occasion—almost identical to the car he raced in during the season. And so she ended up stuck in one of the circuit’s garages.

She was wearing one of Lando’s old race suits, patched up along the ribs and probably stitched by his grandmother, while the helmet in her hands had been handed to her by his dad, who’d spent the past few days rummaging through the attic of their countryside house looking for one that would fit her. He’d found one Lando had used at the start of his career, his name stitched in white along the jawline, standing out against the blue shell.

Home knew about that, too. The bright lights in the garage, team members explaining what would happen and handing her forms to sign, insisting on taking some pictures, while she braided her hair at the nape of her neck and tucked it into the old suit.

“Sure you’re ready for this?” the Brit asked, running his fingers over the fabric she was wearing, like he was reliving old memories in that suit—chasing a dream that now sat squarely in his hands.

“What, sitting still and trusting you with my life? Seems overdue,” she smiled, watching as he avoided her gaze, lost in the scent of rain and the familiarity of the moment.

“I’ve driven you before,” he looked up at her, one of his signature smirks on his face as he grabbed the helmets, handing her the older one. The mechanics were already prepping the harnesses to help them into the car.

“You’re literally paid to drive,” she teased, as he slipped the helmet onto her head, waiting for her curious eyes to peek out from the visor, his large hands on either side.

They’d done hot laps together before, and far riskier things on regular roads—but this was the first time he’d take someone like her in the car that carried him across the world, that in many ways made him the Lando Norris. And he knew she hadn’t quite processed yet that she was about to ride in a Formula 1 car, but he could see in her eyes—and in her slightly trembling hands—that she was nearly as excited as he was.

Lando got in first, mechanics making sure he was strapped in tight and clicking the steering wheel into place, then Adam offered a hand to the girl. She paused in front of the driver, not missing their little tradition they did every time he drove. A small fist bump—his rougher, worn hand meeting her smaller, softer one. So familiar.

“If you need anything, I’m right behind you,” she joked, before climbing into the cockpit behind him. A team member gave her a last-minute rundown of the buttons in front of her and the lap Lando would take, while another tightened her belts.

“You good?” the driver asked once he got the green light to exit the garage, pressing the radio button with his thumb. The engine already roared as photographers snapped a few shots—not that she noticed, too caught up in the scent of the garage and the feeling of being inside that car.

“For now, yeah,” her smile could be heard in her voice.

“Right. Got it. So no screaming when I hit 300, yeah?”

“If I scream, it’s because you’re doing that little laugh after every apex. You sound like a cartoon villain every time we’re in a car together,” she answered, her voice slightly muffled by the radio. Engineers on the pit wall laughed, knowing exactly how true that was, as Lando finally aligned with the pit lane exit.

“How is it that I’ve been in your car on actual roads, and I still feel less safe right now?” she asked, grinning as he started to accelerate toward the first corner, hands firm on the wheel as he did his thing.

“Because on the road, I’m chill.”

The first lap was a thrill—just a taste of what he could really do. She started picking up on his moves before he even turned the wheel or feathered the brakes to perfect a line. Lando wasn’t one for radio chatter—unless he was winning or fighting for crucial points—but when it came to talking to her, he was all ears. She let out a few “woah”s here and there, especially in the high-speed corners, and when she took her eyes off the road ahead to look around, realizing how different the view was from the driver’s seat compared to what you saw on TV.

“Still alive?” Lando was clearly having the time of his life, knowing that—even if she’d scold him later—she loved seeing him like this.

“And thriving,” she replied, lost in the feel of the suit against her skin, the gloves too big on her hands, their helmets cutting through the cold Silverstone air that was slowly beginning to clear.

“Welcome to my office.”

“You’re so smug. I can hear you smirking,” she laughed into the radio, eyes focused ahead, the green helmet of the driver slightly blocking her view.

“Maybe I am.” That little smirk was always on his face, and the fact that she knew it was there made him smile even more.

“Do your engineers know you do this little smirk thing while pulling Gs?”

“Laughs, smirks—what are you up to?” Lando asked as he entered Copse. “But I’m glad you noticed.”

The nerves of the first few laps had given way to the kind of adrenaline the driver thrived on—and now, it was running through her veins too. The engineers were grinning back in the garage, quickly learning to love her energy almost as much as Lando did. Adam Norris sat nearby, more and more surprised by how different his son was when she was around.

“Okay, this might be the coolest thing I’ve ever done. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I’m telling everyone. Immediately.” He teased, flooring it down the straight.

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself right now?”

Hearing her on the radio transported him to a place where he could imagine her voice during every race—after a perfect pit stop, a flawed strategy, urging him on or grounding him after a mistake.

“It’s a talent,” Lando laughed.

Corner after corner, straight after straight, those two didn’t seem inclined to stop. The Brit gestured with his head at the seating he’d had installed to create his own little fan section, and explained how to use Silverstone’s curbs to beat the competition. As they passed the pit wall, engineers spoke into the radio, while mechanics sat on the concrete beside the track, watching them fly by, knowing full well what those two were feeling in their seats.

After a few more laps than planned, Lando finally pulled into the pit lane, stopping the car in front of the garage. He unbuckled himself and jumped out first, telling the crew he’d handle the rest. He knelt to meet her at eye level, lifting his visor to look directly into her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and that smile beneath her helmet couldn’t be hidden. He gave a gentle pat right where his name was embroidered on her headgear.

Then he helped her out of the car, standing in front of her once they were both on the ground, unfastening the strap under her chin with those large hands of his and lifting off the helmet more gently than he’d braked all afternoon.

She sat down on one of the stools in the garage, next to Adam, who handed them both steaming cups of hot chocolate while the team packed up the car and chatted with the two of them.

But when Lando took off his own helmet, she gasped.

Not because the balaclava had left marks on his cheeks that made his light eyes pop, or because that smirk of his made him look even more impossibly handsome than usual. But because something was missing.

“Wait a second. Hold on. Did you—did you cut your hair?”

Lando raised his eyebrows, watching her look him over like a detective who knew she had the right suspect.

“…What?” he asked, confused. “Wait, wait. Are you telling me you saw me yesterday and didn’t even notice?”

“The curls. The mullet. My entire personality. Gone. And you didn’t say a thing.” She lifted her chin, mock offended like it truly wounded her.

“Oh my god. You did cut it.”

The driver looked over at his dad, crossing his arms.

“She finally sees me. After twenty-four hours of being... normal-haired.”

“I swear you had it yesterday! Didn’t you?!” She was laughing now—the kind of laugh he loved, the one that scrunched up her eyes and puffed her cheeks before she doubled over, clutching her stomach.

“Did I though?”

“Yes! I would’ve noticed if it was gone! I love that stupid thing, I talk about it all the time—how did I not—this is a conspiracy.”

Lando and that girl brought who they were with them wherever they went—a burst of fresh air that not everyone had noticed yet.

“You didn’t say a single thing. Not even a raised eyebrow.” He laughed now too, the fake-offended act falling away as he stepped closer to her, still holding his helmet in one hand.

“I’m grieving, Norris. Let me process.”

“You’re the one who didn’t even notice.” He ruffled her hair, grinning.

“Don’t you throw that back at me.”

She loved the British guy’s haircut.

The way his curls poked out from under the balaclava when he was getting ready for the podium, how they brushed against the collars of white shirts at events, or how they simply added coolness to him, making everyone talk about that irreverent mullet.

And Lando was amused by the fact that she had known him for years—before the haircut—but was now turning it into a national debate.

And Max liked that. A lot.

So, a few weeks later, when the British Grand Prix rolled around on the Queen of Motorsport’s summer calendar, he took advantage of the fanbase she had built up—thanks to a few smiles and her talent as a photographer—and the new content coming to the Quadrant channel to start a petition to bring the mullet back.

She had arrived at the circuit with Max and Pietra, while the driver headed to the paddock early that morning for briefings. She got ready to carry around one of the team’s cameras to film what the other British guy had asked her to do. Removing her paddock pass from around her neck and hooking it to a belt loop on her jeans to blend in better with the fans she’d be talking to, she headed into the fan zone and up into the stands to chat, flashing a friendly, disarming smile to everyone she met.

Pietra joined her after a while to help with filming, and the two of them ended up looking like just a normal pair of friends trying to capture memories and hang out with fellow fans—carefully hiding their true mission and the Quadrant stickers on the mic and camera.

Their first “victim” was a little boy on his dad’s shoulders, holding a red toy car and wearing a Ferrari cap, humming a song while waiting for the feeder series driver interviews to start in the fan zone.

And there they were, enjoying the rare good weather at Silverstone, moving from stand to stand, looking for people to interview for the video and soaking in the atmosphere outside the paddock and garages.

"Hey there, can I ask you a fun question? Who’s this guy?" she asked, pushing her sunglasses up to keep her hair off her face.

“He drives the orange car. Number four,” the boy answered, tilting his head slightly as if wondering how she didn’t know, trying to give her as much info as possible without revealing who he was rooting for.

“You nailed it! And… did he look cooler with the curls?” Pietra laughed, knowing full well that as soon as the first interview started, her friend couldn’t resist bringing up the mullet.

“I liked the curls. He looked faster.” The little boy looked almost scared of betraying his favorite team by suggesting that McLaren’s curly-haired driver might have been quicker, and his terrified expression made the two girls smile.

“You might be my favorite person today.”

“You too, you have a Lightning McQueen tee,” he smiled, pointing to her shirt with the famous Pixar car on the front and back, making her melt under the sun.

They strolled around some more, looking for people to talk to, enjoying the rare English sunshine, while rivers of fans showed support for all the teams and drivers, each living and breathing their shared passion.

“All right, you three look suspiciously like you know too much about motorsport,” the girl said, spotting a trio of girls sitting on the grass, hands in their hair, a blanket laid out beneath them with flags and signs scattered everywhere.

“That’s... probably accurate,” laughed the first girl, sitting up cross-legged and inviting her to join them.

“Dangerous territory. Who’s your current F1 favourite?”

“Charles for chaos. Oscar for calm. Lando for… the vibes,” said the second girl, resting her chin on her knees, dressed in an unmistakably McLaren orange shirt.

“Specific. I like it.”

“He’s actually a crazy good racer once you get past the memes,” the trio explained.

“Also the only driver who can turn a haircut into a cultural movement,” added the last girl, leaning on the first while stringing colorful beads onto a fishing line with a sweet smile.

She, in turn, pretended to be confused and not understand what they were talking about, while Pietra was clearly having the time of her life, still not quite believing Max had come up with this idea—and that her friend had actually agreed to go through with it.

“You know exactly what we’re talking about. We want the mullet back,” said the second girl, dead serious.

“Your words, not mine,” Lando’s friend laughed.

Pietra and the girl took a little break, lying back on the grass and chatting for a while, accepting a few friendship bracelets from the trio they’d just interviewed, while nearby Max Verstappen fans were shouting as the drivers cycled around the track waving to the crowd.

They eventually returned to the fan zone, passing through the parking lot and park surrounding the circuit, chatting with other fans—some with families, others with friends.

“All right, I’m going to guess your favorite driver just based on vibes… is it Lando?”

“Yeah. He’s fast. And funny,” replied a teenage boy leaning against a lamppost, adjusting his blonde fringe and revealing striking blue eyes he had probably inherited from his mom standing beside him.

“Solid combo. What’s your favorite track?”

“Spa. But also Silverstone. I like the corners.”

“Maggotts and Becketts?” she asked, smiling.

“Oh, the snake! I love how fast they go through there.”

The boy’s little brother held a gorgeous poster asking Lewis Hamilton to sign his mini helmet, and she found it so heartwarming to see. After all, she still hadn’t quite gotten used to being by Lando’s side with an all-access pass to the garage whenever she wanted.

“You’ve got a proper fan here,” she told their mom.

“They know more than I did at their age,” the woman replied, making the girl raise her eyebrows and imagine just how fashionable this mom must’ve been back in the day.

“Did you like when Lando had long hair?” she asked the younger brother, leaning on another post and holding out the mic.

“He looked like one of those racers from movies. Unstoppable.”

She nodded, feeling satisfied.

As she wandered through the crowds, she heard it all—Ferrari couples complaining about poor results, young fans cheering for their favorite drivers, people snapping photos to hold onto the memory of that day.

“You’ve seen it all, huh?” she laughed, chatting with two elderly gentlemen in vintage merch from the early 2000s, still just as passionate about the sport as when they first watched it together.

“Still love the sport. The strategy, the chaos, the tire gambling.”

Then two girls, with their boyfriends in tow, came up to her, eyes wide in recognition, ditching the food stand line they were in—clearly sacrificing any chance of lunch before nightfall just to talk to her.

“No freaking way. Is that her? Like—her her?!” “the power she holds.”

“You’re talking like I’m Beyoncé,” she laughed, turning to hug them, listening as they introduced themselves, wondering what exactly made her so beloved by Lando’s fans—and others—when she was just a regular person who hated the spotlight.

“You’re basically his left arm. I don’t know why you’re even pretending to be undercover,” one of them said, as the guys chuckled behind her.

“You’re literally half the reason I watch Quadrant. Like, he’s funny, sure—but you’re the one who roasts him right,” added the other.

“They say if you’re not at every race, he drives weird. They literally have spreadsheets,” said one of the guys, shaking her hand, a Mercedes cap shielding him from the sun as he gazed out at Silverstone.

“You have spreadsheets?” she asked, shocked, while Pietra nearly cried with laughter—realizing Max’s plan had backfired and there would be more footage to delete than keep. Even the entrance of the GB3 drivers on stage didn’t distract anyone from her.

“Oh my god, you’re even prettier in person. Lando’s taste is insane,” more fans chimed in, making her raise an eyebrow and rethink every life choice, unsure whether to be flattered or terrified by how many people recognized her despite her best efforts.

One of the last fans she met was wearing an epic T-shirt with Lando’s mullet-face and the words “let him cook” in bold. She complimented him on the choice and asked if she could have one. She was in her element—even if she hated the attention—because she was surrounded by people just as passionate as she was, at one of the most iconic tracks on the F1 calendar, stepping out of her comfort zone and showing how fun and friendly she could be.

“You’re like if serotonin had a voice.”

“What’s the most dramatic moment you’ve had at a race weekend?” a girl asked, as she tucked her hands into her jeans pockets, chatting like it was nothing—trying to forget just how many people now recognized her.

“Once I told Lando he couldn’t have ice cream before quali, and he glared at me like I’d cancelled Christmas,” she smiled, thinking of the one thing she could safely share with fans without starting a media storm.

“Remind me never to argue strategy with you,” a guy laughed, fist-bumping her, well aware of how much she knew about the sport.

“You know, I always thought he was the motorsport nerd. But you’re the one who told him to brake earlier into Turn 9 last year, right?” asked the same girl, recalling the hot lap she and Lando had done in a McLaren road car in Miami the year before.

“Gotta keep the man alive somehow.”

“It’s like being the guardian of a very chaotic, very fast golden retriever,” she grinned, and soon after, she and Pietra headed back to the paddock, laughing about every line fans had said to her, as the Portuguese girl looked at her friend’s shocked, pale face—now split by the most beautiful smile.

Max and Lando were sitting in the McLaren motorhome, two bottles of sparkling water and some snacks in front of them. The driver wore a black sweater, arms crossed, watching his friend like he was analyzing whatever plan was brewing in his head.

“What’s with the smirk? Did you win a staring contest with your cat or something?”

“No, I just had a brilliant idea.”

“Last time you said that, I ended up duct-taped to a sim seat,” Lando replied, skeptically watching the people passing by outside, occasionally waving at familiar faces and checking his phone for messages.

“You know how people still won’t shut up about your mullet?”

“It’s been months. I cut it. I moved on. Even she did. Society should too,” he laughed.

“What if she—” Max gestured, pouring them both some water as music played from the speakers behind them, “—went undercover and asked fans about you… and the mullet?”

“Everyone would think she’s gone rogue. Or she’d end up in a meme compilation.”

Max nodded, confirming that was exactly the point—watching as Lando’s expression softened the moment she was mentioned.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“She’s got the charm. She’ll survive.”

And just then, walking down the path Lando had been watching, the girl and Pietra appeared, the Portuguese girl still laughing, her friend walking like a runway model while clearly still processing what had just happened, hands in her pockets, sunglasses in her hair.

“I need to lie down,” she said as they joined the guys, dragging over two chairs to the table.

“Your people are feral,” she said, dumping all the signs, bracelets, and the T-shirt she’d asked for onto the table as she collapsed into the chair. Lando laughed, reading the slogans.

“Yeah but… you had fun, didn’t you?”

“I got offered snacks. And stickers.”

“…do you think I should grow it back for Monza?” he asked, giving her that look—the one all the girls had mentioned, the one that made her smile every time. The slight head tilt, direct eye contact, then that big hand ruffling her hair.

“Make it count,” she sighed, reaching over to put one of the bracelets on his wrist. “They really do love you, you know.”

“Only if I’ve got you out there making me look cool.”

“You don’t need me for that,” she laughed as he playfully nudged her shoulder.

“You know, the mullet kind of made you look like trouble.”

“Maybe. But you never stayed away.”

“I physically needed to mess it up. This fade just doesn’t cut it.”

this is long... but that doesn't mean I like it, so please give me your feedbacks about it! School's been draining me again but I need to write, and ideas keep coming to knock at my door

[babybearnation]

you're everything i'm dreaming of

⎇f1 drivers x gn!reader ; you accidentally confess to them (texts) ⎇contains: alex albon, arthur leclerc, charles leclerc, dino beganovic, george russell, zhou guanyu, kimi antonelli, lance stroll, lando norris, liam lawson, logan sargeant, max verstappen, mick schumacher, ollie bearman, oscar piastri, paul aron, pierre gasly, yuki tsunoda ⎇author's note: this was fun ⎇content warnings: suggestive content (arthur, lance), insecurity (liam, logan, mick, pierre), one jokey suicide comment (paul)

© all rights to babybearnation 2024.

[pha55ed]

Infrunami || JMA21

type :: smut!

tw/cw :: gentle!dom!pepe, somnophilia, size kink, overstimulation

summary :: pepe has been away for almost 3 weeks and he's never been needier. but you're sleeping so peacefully, thank god you agreed to be able to use each other whenever.

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || OVULATING CELLY!!!

Usually when Pepe comes home, he'll dramatically yell out "I'm home!" for the entire world to hear. But this time, he simply opens the door, drops his bags and goes on a hunt to find you in the shared apartment. His shoulders are sore, his races were awful, and he needed an outlet for this all.

"Cariño," He called out for you. But it fell on deaf ears as he looked inside the bedroom to find you peacefully sleeping.

He feels a wave of softness run over him, simply just from seeing you after so long. It's like you're a drug for him. A smile appears on his lips as he quickly changes into some fresh pajamas. Except his pajamas is just his boxers, so it's not much "changing"

Before he jumps into his bed, he can't help but just stare at you. How you're so peaceful, cute pajamas on, hair all over the pillows. It's always been a joke from his friend group that he's a simp for you, but he truly is. You didn't even do anything and he already has a boner simply from appreciating your beauty.

"Fuck..." He mumbles as he reaches in his boxers, stroking his hard on. He gets on his knees on the bed, using his free hand to caress the small of your back that wasn't covered due to you moving a lot in your sleep. The soft skin touching his hand made him want more, need more.

Thankfully you both agreed before to allow the other to do whatever you want when they're sleeping. And Pepe has never been more grateful for this rule until now. He quickly reached for some lube in the nightstand's drawer, rubbing it all over his dick to make sure it wouldn't hurt.

His dick curves up to touch his stomach, the cold lube touching his belly made him hiss a little. But that didn't matter, as he slowly and gently pulled down your pajama pants and panties. It was like he was teasing himself just from getting a view of your cunt.

As if you would break from a gust of wind, his fingers softly touch your cunt. Rubbing it in circles in a gentle motion. You twitch from the touch, the feeling of the leftover lube from his fingers making you feel cold. But you didn't wake up. Instead, you just moved your body to face away from Pepe.

You facing away on your side, with your thighs touching together, only gave Pepe a better view of you . And also a tighter position to fuck you in. Pepe can't help but chuckle slightly, thinking that it's your body's instinct to get into one of his favorite positions.

He can't hold back anymore, propping both of his arms around your body as he positions his dick at your entrance. And like usual, he slips his tip in. Barely. You're too tight to even take more than the tip.

"Ow," you mumble loudly, blinking your eyes awake. As your eyes piece together the puzzle in front of you, you're met with Pepe sinking his head down into your neck.

"I'm sorry, cariño." He says in a groan as he pushes further into you, making your insides burn from the stretch. "Couldn't help it."

You moan lightly against his shoulder blade. To let him in easier, you move onto your back and slip your leg under his chest, putting you in missionary. Which is actually Pepe's favorite position.

His big frame became 10x times bigger when he was with you. His towering height, slight muscles, and masculinity were all exploded to an extreme level with you. You loved it and so did he.

Even though you feel the sting from him stretching you out, he's still not fully in yet. He had about an inch and a half that he needed to get in you. You moan again, wincing slightly as he begins to coo at you.

He balances his entire weight onto one arm, using his free hand to move the hair out of your face. His fingers caress your cheek and trace your jaw. "It's okay, it's okay" he whispers to you. "I'll wait."

And he kept his word, waiting until you give him a sign that you're ready. But he's not a jerk about it, that's the last thing he wants to be. He's patient and slow. Thrusting in and out so gently, as if you would break. He's loving it, feeling every bit of you wrap around him and each centimeter of him being soaked by you. Kissing all around your neck and lips, making sure you knew how much he loved you.

But for you, this is teasing. You're practically soaking the entire bed by the time he begins to finally pick up his speed. And the only reason he even began to go faster was because you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him into you aggressively.

"Faster?" He asks, making sure he understands you. You nod, letting a moan slip out from him thrusting in you yet again. "You sure?" A smile creeps onto his lips. Again you nod, knowing exactly what his smirk means.

And he starts. Thrusting in an out at a pace that had the bed frame hitting the wall. He moved one hand to pin both of yours onto the bed. The other hand was busy caressing your boobs and waist. Playing with your nipple and then admiring your curves.

He moved his head down from your neck, now facing your breast. His lips met your breast, sucking on them and twirling your bud with his tongue. All while thrusting in and out of you whilst the other hand was holding your waist. His grip was soft, yet controlling when needed. He halted you whenever you bucked upwards but would quickly loosen his grip to make sure he didn't hurt you.

You moaned out his name, begging to do anything to touch him back. But he didn't let you. Only he wanted to be in control, giving you as much pleasure as possible. "Mm please Pepe," you moaned out as he kept thrusting into you. His harsh pace was a stark contrast from his gentle touches.

"You wanna cum?" He misinterprets you. "Cum then," He mumbles and lets a small groan escape. "Cum, I'll just, agh, I'll keep going."

You shake your head, unable to use words from how much pleasure he was giving you. Even his voice was sending you into a further spiral. "N-No, wanna-" You let out a moan, needing a few seconds to continue your sentence "Touch you, mm, wanna-"

"No" He says instantly, thrusting extra hard into you when he says that. You swear that if you were to look down, you'd see a bulge in your belly from how deep his dick was hitting you. "Jus' be pretty"

And you obeyed him, who are you to not listen to him? He knew you too well. Your body was coming undone, feeling your stomach tighten and your brain get fuzzy. All you could think about was looking at Pepe's eyes while wondering if your bed would break. He knew you were close, going extra hard in his thrusts and even moving his hand to your clit.

He rubbed circles on your clit, making you yelp and cry from the overstimulation. But it was all you needed to finally cum, making your legs wrap tightly around his waist to try and halt him.

Pepe knew you too well, he's a caring man after all. So he quickly moved both hands to go under your back, lifting you up to now be stranding his lap. You thought that having your legs wrapped would stop his thrusting, but the new position made your legs useless. He used his strong arms to grip your hips, forcing you to bounce up and down on him.

"Pepe!" You screamed out, grabbing his shoulders for support as you feel your own cum drip down his dick, being forced back into you.

"You can 'ake it." He groans loudly as he focussing on watching your boobs bounce. "Relax, cariño."

[babyboyjude]

Dating them would include

a’s notes: hello my loves! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything and just wanted to give this a try with a few of my fav formula 1/2/3 drivers. As always reblogs, feedback & requests are very very appreciated ! Hope u like it 🫶

Ft: Dino Beganovic, Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc, George Russell and Ollie Bearman.

✩ Dino ✩

- lots of reassurance

- him knowing every small or big detail about you because he keeps them in his notes app

- forehead kisses

- worshipping the ground you walk on

- his parents adoring you

- flying you out to his races

- lots of cuddles especially if he’s had a bad race

- his love language being physical touch and quality time

✩ Oscar ✩

- being homebodies

- always cooking or baking together

- blushing every time someone asks about you

- needing to be the little spoon while cuddling

- still getting nervous around you

- waking up early to hike or watch the sunrise

- hand kisses

- having matching bracelets with your anniversary date and kissing it before every race

✩ Lando ✩

- having lots of inside jokes about everything

- neck kisses

- constantly taking naps together

- having a joint stream account

- teasing each other in public

- golfing on his days off

- sending you flowers every week

- always having his arm around you

✩ Charles ✩

- constantly playing with your hair

- very overprotective

- being best friends with his brothers

- him teaching you how to play the piano

- Kissing you every time you ramble and watching you just melt into him.

- being showered with compliments

- Still being shy around you after being together for a year

- being his #1 fan

✩ George ✩

- matching clothes

- his camera roll just being pictures of you, sunsets, sunrises and nature

- calling you sweetheart, love and honey

- creating a small library in your apartment and always reading together

- traveling around the world during breaks

- him being the most romantic person ever

- G leaving cute little love notes around the house

- him trying to be a princess passenger

✩ Ollie ✩

- bike rides together

- his siblings always wanting to hang out with you

- teaching him how to cook properly

- him showing you off on social media

- has to be the big spoon while cuddling

- deep conversations

- doing your skincare together

- teaching you Italian

[jpnriikicore]

── oh, my good looking boy

paring paul aron x fem!reader, word count 596, genre fluff, ( masterlist )

the morning sun peeked through the sheer curtains casting an angelic haze in your shared hotel room. the mishaps of forgetting that the balcony door is open letting the curtains dance in the light breeze. children’s laughter as they kick around a ball in a fun-hearted game just across the street.

hair sprawled across the pillowcase. your elbow digging into the plush mattress underneath you propping yourself up. you took the chance to admire your boyfriend something that you don’t get the chance to do often. normally, either you're rushing or he’s rushing not getting a mellow moment. even at times, the other side of the bed is empty and cold when you don’t share hotel rooms or he doesn’t sneak into your hotel room late at night. usually, in the paddock, it’s fleeting glances and very minimal grazes. by this point, you’ve memorized every single part of his features even with the short amount of time that you have to do so.

he lays on his back with his arms underneath his pillow. his blond hair unruly and disheveled. he gained the new nickname "blondie" after a few dates and refuses to reference him as another thing else. your nail lightly grazing on his skin connecting the light freckles that scattered across his back.

you raised your body sitting on the edge of the bed. your fingers fiddling with the buttons to slowly unbutton his shirt that you wore to bed last night to discard to take a shower and get ready for your spontaneous plans.

behind you, the blond shifts underneath the sheets. a frown appears on his lips as he feels disappointed that you're not cuddled up right beside him. normally, when he wakes up your pressed right against him almost entirely on top of him even though you’ve fallen asleep on your respectful side on the bed. his eyes fluttered open attempting to adjust to the sunlight beaming in. though he couldn’t see your face. he is only visible to your unruly hair and his oversized shirt slipping off your shoulders he found you incredibly pretty.

his gaze held so much love and fondness that it would terrify someone who wasn’t sure that he was the one but to you. you knew he was one when they first met eight years ago whilst karting around italy that he was the one that you wanted to marry. now, you never put any thought into your perfect wedding until the first time you saw him smile with sun-kissed skin and rosy cheeks.

you aren’t fond of the tan lines on your arms and thighs, but he was. you got offered a solution by him yesterday morning of just basking in the sun naked on the balcony, but you talked yourself out of that. you always sweet-talked yourself out of situations. you were particularly good at that and though it was quite annoying at times. it’s a quality that he loves.

oh, how he missed so dearly how your freckles adorned your sun-kissed skin that scattered across your slight reddened cheeks due to spending time on the boat more recently during his short period of a break. he missed adoring them in the colder months.

he lifted on his elbow gently moving your hair to the side to press a kiss on the back of your neck which was already littered with love marks from last night's activities that you had a slim chance of actually covering. he pulled you back into his warm arms and underneath the sheets once again.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2024

[httpiastri]

drivers as the type of boyfriends to…

f1 masterlist || f2/f3 masterlist || blurb masterlist

a/n: to celebrate f2 race week <333 guys we made it! we survived 284947 weeks without f2!!! hope you enjoy 💓

…wash your hair for you

you're either tired from a bunch of long days at work, or you've been sick for a while now, and you just cannot find the energy to properly wash your hair. don't you worry – your perfect boyfriend is here to save the day! telling you to just sit back against the tub, lean your head against the edge and relax, and he'll do the rest. you still have to instruct him about which products to use, but he listens carefully and makes sure to do everything exactly as you say. except for the fact that he adds some extra scalp massages, since he's very aware of how much you love it when he plays with your hair.

paul aron, marcus armstrong, clement novalak

…help you with your makeup and skincare after a night out

it's been a long night at some motorsports gala, and although he had a lovely time and loves these kinds of events, there's nothing he'd rather do than just jump into bed and cuddle his dearest. especially when you clearly feel the same way, having fallen asleep on his shoulder in the taxi on the way to his apartment. but after carrying you inside and placing you down gently on the bed, he realizes – you've still got your makeup on. he knows how important it is for you to be careful about your skincare, how much you complain about breakouts and such if you don't remove your makeup before bed, so he knows he has to help you. he knows how to use the makeup wipes, and he rubs your skin so gently as to not wake you up, but for the rest of the products… he kind of has to freestyle. some cleansing toner, some kind of serum; he really tries to rack his brain to remember everything you've told him – but he's a little too drunk to do it perfectly. however, it's the thought and effort that matters.

pepe marti, jak crawford, arthur leclerc, alex albon

…learn every little detail about you

he may seem carefree or like he's too chill to care, but in reality, there's no one as attentive as him. he knows precisely what you need for every day of your period; when you need a heating pad, when you need chocolate and ice cream, when you need extra cuddles and caring, when you need the chores taken care of, etc. he knows how you want to be treated after a long day at work/school, he knows your schedule inside and out, and he knows what you want for your birthday or christmas way before you realize it yourself (he figures it out because he knows you so well). he knows your twenty coffee orders – the morning coffee, the pre-work order, the friday special, and so on – and he knows how happy it makes you when he orders coffee for you in surprise, so he never forgets to do just that. he knows how to soothe your worries, ease your anxiety, calm you down. and he knows exactly how to make you the happiest you've ever been – and that's his goal for every day he spends on this planet.

oscar piastri, jack doohan, dennis hauger

…fall so easily for your jokes and pranks (only because he cares so much about you)

this boy is the most gullible person ever; he falls for everything you try to pull on him. try to joke that you're upset that he spends a lot of time with a female coworker? he won't leave your side for the next week, always holding you close and pressing kisses to your cheek whenever she's around so you know who it is he loves. pretend like you're sick so he'll cancel his plans with his friends? he will stay home, cook you his mom's special soup, buy you all of the sweets in the world, and then stick by your side for the rest of the night. pretend like you forgot his birthday and ignore him on it so you can throw him a surprise party with all of his friends and family? he gets heartbroken, thinks he's done something terrible and just wants to make up with you (and forgets about his own birthday, just wanting to reconcile with you). he will do anything you trick him into, and will react like everything is a huge deal, just because he loves you too much (and thinks you would never lie to him – "they love me too much to trick me", he assumes).

lando norris, franco colapinto, luke browning

…learn everything about your hair so he can help out

no matter your hair type, he's learning everything there is to know about it. if it's naturally straight, he learns how to make heatless curls so you don't have to hurt your neck doing them on yourself. if it's more wavy, he knows how to bring out the natural waves in them and how to make it look extra good – or tone down the waves if that's what you want. and if it's curly, he knows just what products you should use and when, and he doesn't mind even the slightest when you ask him to help out. he learns to brain your hair, dye it, style it; you often find him watching youtube tutorials on how to do certain things, or he comes out of nowhere to give you tips on things he just happened to read online. all just to make you feel comfortable and bring a little weight off your shoulders, because he understands how exhausting it can be for you to have to tend to your hair every single day.

jak crawford, ollie bearman, liam lawson

...encourage all your passions and obsessions

every one of your obscure hobbies and hyperfixations, he too automatically loves too. doesn't matter if it's about collecting vinyl records, crocheting little animals, cosplaying – he's all in. he helps you look for supplies, listens when you ramble, and just helps out in any way he can (or you'll let him). it gets to a point where he too gets really interested in it, no matter what it's about. when he sees a certain thing connected to your passion at the paddock or when out with friends, he instantly stops and gets so happy – before he realizes that it's your obsession, not his. he can't help but to squeal a little on the inside nonetheless.

franco colapinto, marcus armstrong

...be the best listener ever

this guy loves to listen – especially if you're the one who's talking. it doesn't matter what time it is, how tired he is, or what it's about; he's all ears. if you're upset, whether a frustrating situation at work/school, a deep existential crisis or a nonsensical tangent about a fictional character, he will be there to listen. he sits next to you on the couch, makes you some tea, cuddles up real close under a blanket and listens with genuine interest. not only is he a great listener, but he also gives real good advice if that's what you need. but if you just need to vent, he's the perfect place, too.

pepe marti, oscar piastri

…dance with you in the living room for no reason at all

he may not be much of a dancer, but when a song he loves (or he knows you love) comes on, he grabs your hand without a second thought. it doesn't matter if he's clumsy, if he can't find the rhythm or if you were both busy with something prior to this – his only goal is to make you laugh and feel loved. goofy routines to some up-tempo pop hit, or a slow sway to a romantic ballad; the living room floor is your very own dance floor. and even if you don't particularly enjoy dancing by yourself, you will learn to love it with him, since every spin and twirl is a way for him to communicate just how much he adores you.

clement novalak, daniel ricciardo, charles leclerc

...turn everything into a competition

brushing your teeth? he will need to find out who can finish faster. cooking dinner? he must chop the vegetables quicker and more perfectly than you. folding laundry? he'll be done first (but probably mess it up a bit). (texting each other when he's away racing? he must be the last one to say goodnight every night, and he insists that he loves you more than you love him, that's just the way it is.) it isn't only to make the mundane tasks more fun – it's also because he really wants to see you laugh, to see your eyes light up with joy at the way he makes a fool of himself while trying to take a super quick shower. he definitely lets you win sometimes, but only to see how happy you look (even though he adores the pout you put on when you lose).

paul aron, arthur leclerc, lando norris

…want to be a part of your family so badly

oh, there's nothing he wants more than to be loved and accepted by your family. it's his biggest wish. he wants to be like an older brother to your younger siblings, always playing around with them during the day but also making sure to be the responsible one and help out at night, tucking them in and reading them bedtime stories. with your parents, he does his best to always be completely respectful and proper – though he does find it a bit of a relief when he finally reaches that stage when he and them get comfortable and close. he adores the way your aunts and uncles treat him just like anyone else at family parties, and he's obsessed with the sound of your grandparents telling him what a "sweet and perfect young gentleman" he is. all of this just because he believes that if he one day is going to start a family with you, he needs to first be a part of the one you already have.

jack doohan, ollie bearman, luke browning

[takimakiiiii]

what it’s like to date them

masterlist

drivers included: ollie bearman, kimi antonelli, dino beganovic, sebastian montoya and arthur leclerc

type: fluff & a tiny bit of angst

warnings: mentioning of jumping off a cliff (ollie) , small sexual innuendo (sebastian) , mention of making out (ollie), if any of those make you uncomfortable please keep scrolling!

photos are found on pinterest & all credits go to their rightful owners!

a/n: it’s my first time trying something like this so feedback is appreciated! i love sebastian montoya so i just HAD to include him. likes and reblogs are always appreciated, enjoy xx

Ollie Bearman

being ollie bear man’s girlfriend is no easy task

he’s constantly travelling around the world and sometimes being in a relationship is unrealistic for an f2 driver like him

but to be honest ollie would rather jump off a cliff than not have you by his side

the two of you are the exact embodiment of sleepy gf x cuddly boyfriend

whenever ollie gets the chance he flies you out to watch him race

late night walks together are a common thing for you both

LEGO DATES OF COURSE (reference to cosmic girl records)

cute good morning voice messages (HIS SLEEPY VOICE IS TO DIE FOR)

he’ll randomly send you photos of what he’s doing whether that’s photos of his meals or him at the gym he loves to keep you updated

in the EXTREMELY rare occasion you guys fight he’ll never EVER let you guys go to sleep without making up (and out 😌)

he loves gifting you flowers and he’ll keep one so he knows when to buy you another bouquet

he’s a goner when you play with his hair while cuddling

y’all hold hands under the table ALL THE TIME

he’s like your own personal photographer, constantly taking photos of you for your instagram or his

he 100% smiles when he reads your texts if you’re far away back home

sometimes it’s so bad that kimi and dino will tease him about it all day long

sings to you. badly, but you’re too nice to tell him he’s got a bad voice

you guys love watching movies together, whether it’s old movies like top gun or the latest ones like deadpool and wolverine

sometimes yall just sleep on the couch together

of course, ollie being the true romantic he is, loves taking you out to fancy restaurants, dancing in the rain, gives you his hoodies, the list could go on forever

facetiming and messaging 24/7

you guys could honestly talk forever, the conversation always flows so easily between you guys

y’all know that one scene in tangled where rapunzel and eugene are in the boat on the lake with the lanterns and eugene’s admiring rapunzel? LITERALLY YOU GUYS

i’d say, Ollie’s love language is 100% physical touch and quality time

homeboy CANNOT keep his hands of you, so you’ve either always got your fingers intertwined or his hands are around your waist or on your back

honestly? you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend and ollie for a better girlfriend 💖

Kimi Antonelli

they say italians are one of the most romantic people on earth and kimi never fails to prove that to you

kimi has you laughing all the damn time with his habit of cracking jokes all day, sometimes the two of you will be sitting in silence, make eye contact and burst out laughing

he loves loves loves calling you cute names in italian, amore, bella, tesoro

he loves teaching you small phrases in italian

100% you guys are idiots to lovers, you both are lost in your own little world with humour only the two of you guys understand

kimi ALWAYS makes time for you, even when he’s tired, hes always up to call or cuddle no matter the hour

you’re a sucker for his italian accent 🇮🇹

you love playing “Bella Ciao” on full blast to wake him up from a nap

AND TRUST, at first he’s always grumpy

but he can never stay mad at you for long it’s always ends up with laughs and tickles

kimi texts you the funniest most random things

once you woke up to a text from kimi that read: do you think penguins get angry

safe to say you had to explain for the next couple of minutes to kimi that it was impossible to know because he kept hitting you with the “but why” card

he loves sending you memes that are definitely not funny just to see what your reaction is

he loves to tease you ALL the time

you guys love to take the silliest photos together

the two of you have a good social media presence which often includes making fun of each other and joking around. it makes the fans go crazy and love you two even more

yall have shared playlists fr and kimi just loves annoying you by adding the most weirdest songs like the barney theme song or the bill nye the science guy song

he gifted you a CD player once and he loves giving you CD’s he makes with songs he thinks you’ll like

he once told you he’d step on a LEGO for you

you guys love to attend concerts when you have a chance

dating kimi can sometimes be a walk in the park and other times not the easiest

comforting kimi after a bad race is always hardest because he’s such a dedicated and passionate driver

but there’s nothing that you can’t fix, if that’s just holding him while he’s upset or just sitting with him while he speaks, you’re there for him every time

and he loves you for that, you’re both teenagers but he’s 101% sure that one day he wants to marry you, and you? you’ve known it since the moment you met him

Dino Beganovic

dino may be the funniest guy you’ve ever met

he loves seeing you smile and each time he makes you laugh or smile it’s like an achievement

dino’s also an athletic guy, always in the gym or going on hikes in whatever country he’s in at the time

and he drags you along every time

sometimes it’s a pain but it’s worth it when he has the biggest smile ever when you guys reach the top of the mountain or exit the gym

dino’s an excellent cook despite what his friends may claim

he cooks for you any chance he gets

when you first found out Dino was swedish you nicknamed him IKEA boy just to annoy him

leaving you at home is the hardest thing he has to do and sometimes coming back is even harder, but you always make sure to stay up for him so when he walks through the front door you’re there to welcome him home

you find the fact that his name is ‘dino’ hilarious so you’ll randomly send him “🦖”only for him to reply with “🖕”

if there was one phrase to describe the two of you, it would be enemies to lovers

the first time you ever met dino was when your mutual friend arthur introduced you to him, and instantly you didn’t like him

you honestly never figured out why, maybe it was because you were jealous of how confident and smart he was?

yes, that’s probably it

and when you guys first met, the feeling was mutual, dino didn’t exactly like you either

but because of arthur who was whole heartedly convinced that he could get his two best friends together, you eventually began to feel things for dino and guess what?

he felt the same

it didn’t take long for you guys to get together

and arthur made a lot of cash in the process considering the whole grid had made a bet with him

you hold it against him till this day

but nevertheless it was the best choice you’d ever made, becoming dino’s girlfriend

he’s a gentlemen through and through

you often fly out to surprise Dino at his races and its always worth it to see his ginormous grin when he sees you

you guys definitely have your rough patches in your relationship but you both work through it together every time

you guys love going on cute coffee dates, especially to the cafe’s in Sweden, the two of you have a mission to find the best cafe there

he loves taking you to museums when you both visit his home

he loves telling you stories of his childhood and hometown since the two of you both grew up in different places

before dino you’d never believed you could ever fall for someone like him, and he proved you wrong yet again

Sebastian Montoya

he’s not f2 but i just HAD to include him, he’s my cutie patootie fr

if there was on word to describe sebastian it would be oblivious

you had a good fat crush on him for a solid 3 years before the two of you got together

he just could never get a hint

you tried your best to subtly show that you liked him but he’d brush it off as you being overly kind or something like that

both of your families were super close so you basically grew up together

you were the same age as him so you were the closest out of everyone in the family

it wasn’t until your 15th birthday when Sebastian took you by surprise and confessed he had feelings for you

how could he not? you were stunning and basically his best friend. childhood friends to lovers, are you joking?

you always accompanied him to any karting competition or tournaments, you were and still are his biggest fan

sebastian is like a dream come true

he’s hilarious and sweet and caring and you could go on and on about how

he’s such a charmer, especially with his words

he loves calling you cute names in spanish such as cariño, mi amor, bebe, angelita, hermosa and so many more

dating sebastian is like you always though it would be like

he’s the loyalest guy you know

he loves going to the gym and he’ll send you photos whenever he’s there

you both have a habit of calling each other before you go to sleep, talking about how your day went or what you had for dinner that day

you’d think with both his parents being able to cook such great colombian food he’d be a great cook but you’d be wrong

sebastian nearly once set your kitchen on fire when he tried to fry an egg which goes to show just how bad of a cook he is

so you take the reins when it comes to cooking your meals when you eat together

sebastian’s probably the funniest guy you know, humour comes to him so naturally you’re almost jealous

yeah, you guys fight more than you’d like to admit, but he’s always the first one to apologise and pull you into a hug, peppering you with kisses

he’s like a giant teddy bear if they were absolutely ripped and had the biggest biceps you’d ever seen

sebastian often has to go away and he wishes he could take you along every time so when you get a chance you always accompany him

flights to wherever he’s racing that weekend is always fun

once you tried to convince him to do a face mask with you on the flight but he wouldn’t budge

sebastian loves touching you, not always in a sexual way but even sometimes just soft touches or holding hands is enough for him

kisses, kisses and more kisses

he absolutely loves it when you play with his hair

if you accompany him to the gym he’s definitely showing you off

whenever the colombian football team is versing another team you always go for the other team just to annoy sebastian

you guys often post each other on your instagram stories, usually including a joking insult

if you’d told your 13 year old self that you were dating sebastian she would not believe you at all, and well maybe dreams do come true

Arthur Leclerc

you never ever thought you’d end up dating charles leclerc’s little brother

the first time you met arthur was in a supermarket at 9pm, you were rushing around, late to a party when you crashed head on with a stranger

that stranger just so happened to be arthur leclerc, you recognised him immediately as he bent down to pick up all his groceries that had fallen on the ground

you realised you were standing there gaping, you immediately apologised and helped him pick up his shopping

arthur was taken by surprise when he looked up to see such a . . . mess. to say the least

your mascara was poorly applied and your outfit was NOT it at all

it nearly made him laugh at the absurdity of it all, and yet as he continued to watch as you apologised he was stunned by your eyes

they were well, gorgeous.

he asked for your number much to your surprise and well the rest was history

arthur is by far the most sweetest and handsomest guy you’ve ever met

he helps pick out your outfits for the day without complaint, always helping you put on your heels when you guys go out for dinner

arthur loves to be by your side 24/7

whether it’s to make sure other guys don’t get the wrong idea or just because he loves being in your company he’s always with you

but of course because he’s a formula 2 driver his job requires him to travel a lot

which often means you’re left alone, it sometimes poses to be difficult for the two of you, especially you and it sometimes ends with you guys fighting

but there’s nothing that the two of you both can’t overcome together

he looks at you like you hung up the stars 🤩

arthur loves making you laugh, it’s like he could high on just your laughter

so any chance he gets to make you laugh, he takes it and honestly it only makes you love him more

matching outfits? definitely.

cute french nicknames, mon amour is a favourite for sure

arthur loves to gift you things, whether it’s perfumes, clothes, handbags, if you linger too long on something while you’re shopping, best to know that it’ll appear in your apartment in the next week

he absolutely loves to take you on the craziest dates ever, bungee jumping, sky diving, swimming with sharks, anything that’s completely crazy? definitely.

maybe it was fate or something like that, but arthur’s grateful that you crashed into him that night in the supermarket, looking like a mess, you couldn’t have looked prettier in his eyes.

a/n: AHHH! So that’s brings us to the end, thank you for reading if you got to the end!

[iheartmonaco]

Can you do one for arvid please. He seems really chaotic I love his energy 😭

Of course babyboy I gotchu 💗

two bestfriends in a room

Arvid Lindblad X Best Friend!Male!Reader

Masterlist

[multicohn]

summary: y/n finally attends a race weekend and the other f3 drivers don’t believe they’re dating — so they lowkey terrorise nikola

warnings: cursing, drivers being mean ( jokingly )

pairing: fem! reader x nikola tsolov

genre: fluff, crack?

requested: yes

author note: i love the f3 grid so much like you don’t understand 😭

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

much to her dismay, the heat hadn't died down at all by the time she arrived and just knew that nikola would be causing trouble for his team. he's always been quite sensitive when it comes to different temperatures, which y/n learned the hard way.

she breathed out a sigh and scanned her pass before going towards the formula three paddock. since this is the first time she's attended a race weekend for f3, nikola made sure to give her a thorough rundown of where everything would be. y/n has been to a few eurocup-3 races and was supposed to have gone to the australian grand prix, but she got sick.

y/n was confident that she would be just fine, but nikola was very adamant that the paddock of eurocup-3 is very different to a formula three paddock.

he was also very excited for her to finally meet his friends and new teammates; tasanapol inthraphuvasak and mari boya. her boyfriend is very nice and outgoing, so she wasn't surprised to find him chatting away with a large group filled with the other f3 drivers.

y/n shot nikola a quick text since she didn’t want to go up and interrupt him ( or have all of them stare at her ), but of course, nikola wouldn’t have that.

the moment he saw the text, his head shot up and his eyes instantly found hers.

“n/n!”

[ n/n means nickname ]

she smiled and gave a little wave as he jogged towards her. the other drivers watched as nikola embraced a random girl with confused looks on their faces.

“sorry to interrupt” he quickly shook his head and dismissed her words

“don’t. i can finally introduce you to them now” the happiness in his voice made her smile despite the nerves that were still present within her

“come” he placed a hand on her lower back and guided her towards the boys who were still silent

“guys. this is my girlfriend, y/n” nikola’s eyes shined bright with pride as y/n smiled politely

just as the silence was starting to overwhelm her, mari boya spoke up.

“did he pay you?”

“mari?!”

“what? i think it's a good question!”

“yeah, mate. there's no way you got her” james wharton spoke up next

“what's that supposed to mean?!”

“she's out of your league”

“we're in the same league!” the drivers silently shared a look while nikola gasped and y/n tried not to laugh

“screw you’s!”

he gave them the middle finger before pulling y/n away, but they started following.

“come on, niko. just admit it” ugo ugochukwu spoke

“yeah. this is just sad now” followed along by rafael câmara

he groaned and started picking up the pace with y/nfollowing along. she let a few giggles slip past her lips, but it was overshadowed by the roars of laughter coming from the other boys.

once they were far away from them, nikola let out a sigh of relief.

“sorry about that” y/n just shook her head, a playful smile making its way onto her face

“they’re fun. i can see why you want me to meet them” nikola’s eyes softened at that

“i’m glad you like them”

“me too”

he smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to her ( lips / cheek / forehead ) when they heard someone cough from behind them. nikola jumped and turned around before groaning.

it was tasanapol inthraphuvasak, his other teammate.

“can’t you do that when there isn’t people around?”

“there wasn’t any around around! where did you even come from?” tasanapol shrugged before walking off

“today isn’t my day” nikola said while running his hands down his face

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

turns out those words weren’t true at all since nikola went on to win the sprint race that day.

y/n was even allowed to congratulate him through on the teams headphones which left nikola giggling.

she clapped and cheered as loud as she could once his car was in sight. y/n's smiled grew even wider with his celebration before he jumped out and ran straight to her. she didn't even have time to prepare herself before his arms wrapped around her frame while the team were shouting and hitting his helmet.

“you did it!”

“i did it!” his words were muffled by his helmet and the noise from his team, but y/n is fairly certain that she heard him

her boyfriend was soon taken away after that and she was left in the presence of his team, but quickly became aware of the other drivers coming towards them.

“y/n!” mari called out and waved excitedly

“hi, mari. tough luck” he shrugged

“making fun of nikola brightens me up, so we came” the other boys nodded along

“is that why you did that earlier?”

“no. he's never mentioned you before”

laurens van hoepen was quick to disagree.

“he has to me and chris last year, but we didn't believe him”

y/n understood.

they're very private and she dislikes being posted in general, so the boys weren't necessarily wrong to assume things, plus they made her laugh.

“pretty people usually date each other”

“don’t let nikola hear you, it’ll go to his head” y/n smiled as they continued to joke around while waiting for tuukka taponen since he placed third and would be first out

she clapped politely for the other two, but y/n’s cheers grew louder once her boyfriend stepped out. however, the boys overshadowed her ( and the campos team ) by yelling out things that she hoped wouldn’t be broadcasted, but y/n couldn’t help but laugh.

unbeknownst to them, nikola’s eyes softened at seeing her interact with his teammates and friends. he knew they would get along, even if they didn’t believe they were dating at first.

“unbelievable” he thought and shook his head, but the bright smile remained on his face

[pedriache]

Need arvid fluff as an apology for that angst

Arvid Lindblad Boyfriend Head Canons

‘ It’s all I can think about, oh, you’re all I can think about. ’

Bf!Arvid who . . . never lets you know a moment of peace. This is a teen boy who is probably experiencing his first real relationship and no doubt you guys were friends beforehand. So, he feels free to be himself around you. He will annoy you with spammed TikTok’s and then will be annoyed if you don’t respond to each individual one.

Bf!Arvid who . . . tries to be nonchalant, but you simply won’t have it. You know he loves to crack jokes and say stupid things, so when he tries to be quiet and nonchalant, you just quirk your eyebrow at him and instantly he’s sighing and giving it up.

Bf!Arvid who . . . is awkward when giving physical affection. He tries to play it off but whenever he intertwines your hands together, his cheeks will flush. The most natural form of affection for him is an arm looped around your shoulder, since he does it with friends anyways. But, when you’re alone together it’s slightly different. He loves behind near you, holding you, everything. He just gets shy in public, but you don’t mind.

Bf!Arvid who . . . doesn’t know how to communicate at first. Like I said earlier, first real relationship. He struggles with keeping up with his strict schedule for F2 while also giving you the attention you need. When he gets frustrated he often gets away from his phone and that leads to you worrying and occasionally it causes fights. But, he is the best at making things up to you! He tries, and that is better than most teen boys.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @ferrarifudds @piastri-fvx @spidybaby @joaoflms @sakashq

[dedeinthewild]

lando norris x reader, early stages

-“Come on, Mr. McLaren. No Mrs., but definitely a sports car,”

summary : he bought the tickets "for her." she wore his shirt. tate sang sports car. he knew all the words. but no, he definitely doesn’t stream her on spotify.

As soon as they got in the car, she had connected her phone and, while Lando drove toward the arena, she sang along to every song on her playlist, wearing that rugby shirt she’d stolen from him and flashing the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

Even if he would never admit it, the idea of going to that concert had been his. After talking to other drivers and some friends, he found out about the tour of the singer she always talked about—and he hadn’t hesitated to go back to Monaco, set his laptop on the table, and buy two tickets.

Lando had always pretended—with his usual smug arrogance—that the trending pop music of the moment was way beneath his musical tastes, never missing a chance to remind her of that.

“That’s lame white girl music,” he’d tease her while she slid on her blue light glasses and sat next to him, peeking at everything he was doing on screen.

But deep down, he liked it.

Just like he liked when his team texted him after the release of her new album, so full of imagery about a boy so handsome he was almost dangerous, driving a sports car that seemed just a little too much like him.

Then would come a cheeky comment, a few lyrics whistled intentionally in the paddock, but he’d never really considered going to one of her concerts—mostly to avoid worsening his groupie situation. They’d probably sell their souls to see him in the crowd at something like that.

But she had been enough.

She had chosen to wear one of the old merch t-shirts she found in his apartment in Monaco and had left all the decisions to him, barely hiding her excitement at the idea of flashing those tickets at the entrance of The O2 Arena.

“Tate McRae,” he let the singer’s name roll off his lips as they queued for the parking spot he’d reserved, his right hand on the lower part of the steering wheel, elbow resting out the window, soaking in the early summer breeze of London.

“Yes,” she replied, unable to hold back a smile as she looked out at the arena, nervously running a hand through her soft, fragrant hair.

“Maybe I should’ve brought tissues,” he said, giving her one of his signature infuriating smirks, while the car engine rumbled in idle, waiting to finally be parked.

“No,” she shot back, “but you should’ve brought a mirror.” Teasing him, knowing full well how he secretly loved those songs like they’d been written just for him—in every lyric and chorus, like they were soaked in the same scent he sprayed on himself just to watch her wrinkle her nose.

“What?” he feigned innocence, following the car ahead.

She shook her head playfully, already feeling the adrenaline of what she knew would be a special night—the kind of thrill that comes from seeing the artist you listen to every morning in the car, every afternoon walk, every evening while cooking.

Lando was good at pretending he didn’t care, like he’d done all this just to make her happy. As if he didn’t know their photos would be all over the internet in two hours, and a night that felt like a dream for them would become one for thousands of fans too.

Once inside, they realized how massive the arena was—it had even hosted the F1 pre-season gala earlier that year, where he’d been one of twenty stars, standing on the very stage where Tate would soon perform. The standing area was already packed, while some sections of seats were still waiting for people to arrive, stuck in London’s nightly traffic.

Thanks to one of his contacts, Lando had bought some of the priciest tickets, in a separate section that gave them the thrill of the crowd but with seats and a near front-row view—just as Charles had suggested after attending another popstar’s tour.

“Still time to leave,” he whispered in her ear, standing behind her with his hands in the pockets of the jeans he’d chosen, his shoulders straight in a black shirt that clung to his torso in a way that could easily be considered illegal.

“Still time to admit you secretly stream her on your Spotify,” she grinned, turning to him, catching the way he couldn’t wipe off that teasing little smirk he reserved for when he was winding her up—or realizing how easily he could charm whoever stood in front of him.

“Only ‘cause you made me a playlist,” he shot back, thinking of the long summer drives in his Audi, aimless, with the playlist he made almost blowing the speakers.

“Because I knew you’d relate.”

“To what? Being emotionally damaged and hot?” he laughed, adjusting the mullet he’d grown back after months of clean fades—on her gentle request, the same girl who had dragged him to the place where everyone wanted him to be.

“Exactly,” she said, grinning, as the tech crew finished setting the stage. The lighting matched the album colors—orange and soft neon—which lit up her face as she wore that same color.

He was curious, cautious, already tapping a rhythm on his thigh.

It was one of those moments girls dream about—sending outfit pics to friends, burning every second of a moment into memory instead of a phone video. Some were already sitting, phones in hand, while others kept their hands on their girlfriends’ shoulders, softly singing along to the pre-show songs. And some—like Lando—just stole the scene.

But that was the last thing he wanted. Because even if he loved attention, tonight was for her—even if he wouldn’t admit it. She had told him many times she’d never been to a concert before, or that she’d missed out on tickets. So this one—it was her concert.

“She’s not even out yet—”

The entire arena erupted into a scream that made her wrinkle her nose, tilting her head slightly toward Lando, who had rested his chin on her shoulder, scanning the crowd—spotting a few actors and footballers, but not caring much.

“That’s the point,” she said, her voice trembling with excitement. “Pre-scream.”

“You dragged me here for this?” he complained, grinning wider than she’d ever seen.

“You’re going to love it,” she laughed, shooting him a sideways glance, “even if it’s just lame white girl music.”

As the lights dimmed, he stood straight, his arm brushing hers as they looked at the wave of teens and girls with glittered cheeks and hairdos that had clearly taken hours.

It was hot, but the frenzy felt like cold air breathing down their necks, a thrill buzzing with anticipation.

Tate’s first songs rang out, met with the crowd’s loud approval. Lando vibed to the bass, hands in pockets, his wristband contrasting against his tan forearm, opposite his Richard Mille watch. He watched her sing every word, wearing his shirt tucked into her pants, with that wide smile showing she was having the time of her life—likely something she’d talk about for months.

And it made him smile too. Until the tension crept in—the weight of their undefined situation.

They’d been “something” for months now—joking like old friends, then flirting with an undertone they never named. Their “friendly” outings had him wearing his nicest shirts and asking for as many paddock passes as possible just to have her travel with him.

When Sports Car came on, his chest was lightly pressed against her back, hands high enough to graze her waist but not touch, his eyes fixed on the stage from above, savoring every word sung by the crowd.

It was his song now. Everyone said so.

"I think you know what this is I think you wanna uh No, you ain't got no Mrs. Oh, but you got a sports car"

He smiled—that smug, charming grin that somehow never made him unlikeable—as he stood there, muscles peeking through his shirt, those piercing green eyes glowing even more under the lights.

As the show went on, she realized the joy of being there was now sharing space with the awareness that she was there with Lando Norris—and with every word Tate sang, he claimed a little more of her space without ever feeling intrusive.

“Oh, don’t start,” he said as the beat dropped, chin slightly lifted.

“Come on, Mr. McLaren. No Mrs., but definitely a sports car,” she teased, biting her lip to hide a grin full of tension and butterflies. Lando was so close—to her, and no one else. And he never missed a chance to tease her.

“Okay, I’ll admit it. She’s good.”

She turned, savoring those five minutes that marked the last third of the concert—time had flown between lights and confetti.

His chain lay against his collarbones, creating a crease in his shirt that highlighted his chest and arms—always growing stronger from the effort he poured into reaching the top of his career.

He looked down at her, eyes locked, the kind of smile she wanted to steal right off his face. His skin smooth from the shave he remembered to do that morning—when she woke him up with the smell of pancakes.

“Maybe it’s the company,” he added, finally making her melt.

"I just want your two hands on me at all times, baby If you let go (I want your two hands) Better put 'em right back, fast Want your two hands on me like my life needs savin' Let 'em all know (I want your two hands) Can you do it like that? Yeah"

Lando had embraced the vibe—singing with her, helping a few girls take pictures with the venue behind them, showing that sweet, kind side of him she adored so much.

He looked fully in his element—hands up, taking photos for people, handing phones back gently, then leaning against the barricades and moving with the beat. Watching her like she wasn’t just some beautiful girl, but his.

“Think you can handle that?” he teased again, quoting the lyrics as she leaned closer, their elbows touching, trading warmth and that faint London humidity that kissed their skin.

“That’s a challenge?” she replied, her usual blush hidden by the pink lights.

Lando looked at his hands, licking his lips.

"Dear God, take his kiss right out of my brain Take the pleasure out of my pain Take the way he'd used to say I love you Dear God, get his imprint out of my bed Take away the way I still might want to"

She pulled out her phone and started a new note, jotting down all the songs that caught Lando’s attention the most. He watched her, amused—and in a way, thankful he came with her, doing one of his press-friendly fashion moves and giving her a perfect night.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you a playlist with a horrible title,” she smiled, like the song they’d just heard hadn’t been full of innuendos.

“You’re horrible,” he laughed, taking her hand, still leaning on the barricade.

“And yet you love me.”

Lando paused, looked into her eyes, then slightly down at her lips, still a little damp from singing—but instead of thinking about kissing them, he focused on that happy smile.

“I might,” he said softly. “You make it really hard not to.”

He didn’t let go of her hand. Not when the concert ended, as they took a few photos and joined in chanting for the singer before she left the stage. Not even as people started filing out, chasing a bit of fresh air after the heat of the night.

When she was ready to go and turn the night into a memory, he started walking toward the exit, her smaller hand still in his large driver’s hand—the one she’d always wanted to hold but never dared to, afraid it would ruin things.

Her eyes were locked on him, on how confidently he walked, the black shirt hugging his back and hinting at the return of that mullet that made him look even more stylish than he already was. How he’d turn and glance at her, pointing out small details they’d missed, keeping her close in the gentlest, most genuine way.

He stroked her palm. He knew she was behind him. That everyone knew he was there. That the gorgeous, seemingly unattainable Formula 1 driver—the one everyone said Tate McRae’s songs were about—had come to her concert. And he’d come with a girl.

“You’re kind of the hot boyfriend everyone wants right now,” she said once outside, as he sat on a concrete cylinder, arms resting on his knees with that post-concert calm she’d always dreamed of. Some girls walked past, still singing, snapping their final photos.

“Kind of?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Well, I’m still deciding,” she smirked, as he placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer, locking eyes with her again.

“Decide now,” he said, wetting his lips. “You dragged me here just to roast me with pop music. And now you’re getting soft on me?”

“You liked the pop music.”

“I loved it.”

“And the lyrics?” she asked, burying her hands in his hair, still stunned that someone so impossibly handsome could be so impossibly hers.

“Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been a country concert.”

She rolled her eyes.

Knowing it was just the first of many concerts. And the start of a beautiful, messy, perfect unfolding.

guess whose birthday is it? if your lucky guess was me, then yeah, I'll gift you this little lando x reader 'cause you were right! I have been pondering for days if I should get tickets to tate or not, and the obvious answer is that I should but I've spent way too much lately...

[babybearnation]

twenty stitches in a hospital room

⎇f1 drivers x gn!reader ; you crash and don't tell them (texts) ⎇contains: alex albon, arthur leclerc, charles leclerc, dino beganovic, george russell, zhou guanyu, kimi antonelli, lance stroll, lando norris, liam lawson, logan sargeant, max verstappen, mick schumacher, ollie bearman, oscar piastri, paul aron, pierre gasly, yuki tsunoda ⎇author's note: some fun new sir bear lore developed today! i dmed ollie bearman asking if i could shoot my shot with him lol /gen ⎇content warnings: crashes (all), mentions of death/dying (alex, arthur, ollie), fire (arthur/pierre), injuries (charles, dino, guanyu, lance, lando, liam, logan, max, oscar, paul, pierre), stitches (lando), burns (pierre), one silly suggestive joke (yuki)

© all rights to babybearnation 2024.

[pha55ed]

Painfully Oblivious || F2/F3

type :: crack/angst tw/cw :: none contains :: ollie, kimi, paul, dino summary :: reader is completely oblivious to the guys' crush on them, no matter how hard they flirt - made as driver!reader in mind but can be ignored - inspo: glue song by beabadoobee f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Ollie Bearman | 03

Flirting is already hard enough for Ollie, but you make it 100x times harder

He literally has no clue on how to get you to understand that HE LIKES YOU

Ollie usually flirts in subtle ways, like slightly lingering touches, complimenting your outfit, doing small acts of service, etc

Only problem is, you don't notice them at all

And when you do notice them, you just assume he's a super nice and friendly dude! :D

One time you were complaining about how cold it was, especially since you forgot your jacket

Ollie instantly took off his jacket and gave it to you, not saying another word out of shyness

But your dumbass thought he just wanted him to hold his jacket...

So you and him were walking side by side, with you carrying his jacket in your arms whilst still complaining about how cold you are

Ollie looked at you, dumbfounded, how could you not piece together to wear his jacket???

So he had to explain to you to wear his jacket,,, and that he was giving it to you on purpose,,, not for you to carry around,,,

You literally went:☝️😲💡 OHHH!!!!

He laughs it off, helping you put on his jacket (which was extremely oversized on you)

Yet still, you have the audacity to jokily say: "Haha this is so rom-com! It's just like those movie scenes when the guy likes her and then gives her his jacket hahaha"

Ollie looks at you deadpan,,, he regrets liking someone who oblivious...

But he's fallen too deeply to back out, so he's stuck pining after someone who's dumb as shit

Maybe one day he'll confess, but not yet, not for a very long time

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Getting a crush on someone is kind of new territory for Kimi

He's extremely realistic, and he knows that relationships most likely won't work when being so busy with racing

But for some reason, his brain completely malfunctions every time he sees you, it's as if you rewired his entire mind

He hates it, but he can't help but smile every time he's around you

Following old traditions and media is basically what he tries to do to get you to understand his feelings

But you're so blinded and naive that you can't piece it together

One time he got pole position after a super exhausting race, giving him such an adrenaline boost that he got the balls to ask you out

He asked you out to dinner, which you said yes to eagerly

And he was on top of the world, he’s never felt luckier: to not only win a race but to win over his crush???

He gets dressed super nice, does his hair, and even gives himself a pep talk

The dinner between you both goes amazingly, and he’s over the moon

That is, until you say: “Where’s everyone else? No one else came to your Winner Dinner? :(“

And he literally wants to strangle you…

A great dinner that lasted almost two hours of chatting and eating great foods

Connecting on so many different topics, relating to each other

So he face palms, making you confused as hell? Cause what you asked wasn’t odd in your eyes???

But he gets so frustrated that he just says, “No one else came because this is a DATE!!!”

And instantly you’re like 😧, blushing even. You had zero clue and were too dumb to piece together that all of this was a date

He can’t even be mad at you because he finds your obliviousness kinda cute - but he does hope you get the hint that he likes you from then on

Paul Aron | 17

Everyone knows Paul is a bit of a player, but contrary to popular belief: it’s not on purpose

Ladies just throw themselves to Paul, which is super understandable

But Paul literally has no clue how he has so much rizz despite him doing literally NOTHING to earn their affection

(It’s because he’s gorgeous and flirty on accident)

Despite how many girls like him, for some reason he can never get you to like him,,, or at least acknowledge he likes you

He’s been pretty forward with his crush on, the most forward out of all of the guys by far

Giving you flirty compliments, always searching you out in crowds to talk with you, being possessive over you when anyone else tries to get your attention, even remembering what you said you liked so he can buy it for you

He’s basically already your boyfriend, just without the title and without you knowing

And he kinda likes it? But also hates it?

He loves not having the complete title of a relationship so he’s not fully committing

But he also hates it since he can’t stop feeling jealous when others hit on you or when others crush on you

So he decides to just blatantly ask you out, hoping you’d finally understand that all this times he’s been trying to pin after you

He sets an entire day dedicated to you. Giving you a beautiful flower bouquet, taking you to your favorite restaurant, and even taking you on a night walk on the beach

It’s extremely cheesy, but he doesn’t even care

So at the end of the day, when he’s dropping you off - he goes for it

He kisses you in his car, right in-front of your house, exactly like every rom-com movie to ever exist

He does it because he knows there’s no way words will get through you dumb pea brain that he actually likes you

So when he gently removes his lips off yours and looks at your shocked face, he’s hoping you say you like him back

Or even better, he hopes you kiss him again

Dino Beganovis | 01

You two are kinda in the same both, you’re both insanely oblivious to your feelings to each other

Dino only realizes he likes you after Ollie and Kimi point out how much happier he is with you: as if he’s on cloud 9 the second you’re in his vicinity

He’s in denial at first, he asks Paul and Paul straight up says: “I thought you two were dating already???”

And now Dino is having a crisis because OH MY FUCKING GOD HE LIKES HIS BEST FRIEND??? THIS WHOLE TIME??????

So now he’s super nervous around you, he can’t even mutter a word to you without looking away

Your eyes have suddenly gotten 10x times prettier, as if they were a black hole sucking his soul in

Your hair is suddenly so much shiny and soft, making everything else in the world seem rough and coarse in comparison

Everything about you is stunning, and he can’t get you out of his head

He wants this crush phase to be over, but you won’t allow that since you’re too blinded to see that he likes you

It makes him go crazy because he’s so anxious of you not liking him back and possibly ruining your whole friendship

But every driver encourages him to make a move and test the waters - which takes him weeks of planning of how he’s gonna do it

So, while you two were having your usual movie night: he made his first move

He stretches his arm and rests it on your shoulders, basically side hugging you

But you confuse his action as wanting popcorn, you shove a handful of popcorn into his hand and smile at him

He smiles back, kinda disappointed his flirting didn’t work but he tries again

Being super risky, he decides to put his hand on your thigh

And you look at him like: 🤨 what? meh,

And go back to watching the movie without caring at all

All he does is just sigh and take his hand back, he decides he'll just try again a different day

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

[majusialikesfastcars]

EYES OFF YOU

Arvid Lindblad x reader

Summary: Arvid never believed in love at the first sight. But then he met you, Ollie's cousin, and wasn't so sure about his beliefs anymore.

this request 🫶

⚠️Tw: prema boys being the little shits they are

!English is not my first language, so please bare with me🙏🙏!

(arvid's version)³

♪ 🌻 ♪

♪ 🌻 ♪

There's no touch or feeling,

Pleasure or pain,

Anything like the way you're runnin' through my veins,

No breath or beauty,

No sound or sight,

That ever made me feel the way you do tonight,

I just can't take my eyes off of you.

♪ 🌻 ♪

Going to the track at early hours of the morning was something normal for Arvid. Morning fog surrending garages and the silence of only few people working, was something he grew to love. He could quiet his mind and focus on the upcoming race. It was like second nature for him. When the crowds started to gather, he liked to hide in his garage, being a little introverted.

Today wasn't an exception. He sat in the corner of the prema garage, watching people walking by. And that's when he saw you, smiling at everyone. When your eyes met, he felt like time has stopped. He shyly smiled back, feeling his cheeks grow hot. That's when you decided to walk up to him. He could feel his heart beating rapidly, when you finally stood in front of him.

"Hi," you said sheepishly, tucking your curly hair behind your ear. "do you by any chance know how I can get to formula two paddock?"

"Yeah," he stuttered a bit. "I can show you where it is."

For the whole walk, he couldn't keep his eyes away from you. He was simply enamored by you. You talked like you knew eachother for years and he loved the lack of akward silence.

"How did you even end up in the wrong paddock?" he asked, curious as to why you were here.

"My cousin was supposed to pick me up, but something came up and I got lost." you laughed and Arvid knew he found his new favourite sound. He didn't dug deeper and unbeknownst to him that said cousin was watching you two with a sly smile on his face. Ollie Bearman was a lot of things, but not stupid. He knew by the look in your eyes, that you too were smitten by the dark haired boy.

It was time to play cupid.

♪ 🌻 ♪

Ollie, Kimi, Dino, Gabriele and Arvid sat on chairs, ready to play pico park for prema's new YouTube video. You watched the boys laugh and scream at eachother, when someone was sabotaging the game, with a fond smile on your face. Lost in thoughts, you didn't notice that Arvid was also staring, totally not focusing on the game. But the other boys were fully aware of it and who would they be if they didn't tease him for it.

"ARVID!" Ollie shouted, smirking at the younger boy. "Focus on the game, mate."

"Yeah," Dino said with an evil grin on his face. "you can ask her out later."

Arvid swore, he would kill him later. When you looked at him, he really wanted the earth to swallow him whole. He almost became as red as Ferrari. The boys, of course, laughed at him. Now, he was sure he would kill them all. And then ask you out.

♪ 🌻 ♪

You sat in the prema garage, watching Ollie prepare for his race. Formula three race ended with Arvid winning it and you were really impressed with his skills. It was like him and his car were one. You felt someone's presence next to you. When you turned your head, you saw Arvid smiling from ear to ear. It was like he knew you thought about him. You smiled back, blush covering your cheeks. You could shamelessly admit that his post race look was hot.

"Congrats on P1." you said, winking playfully at him. "Winning looks good on you."

Arvid felt his heart practically melting, when you said that.

"Thanks." he decided, that it was now or never and asked "Would you like to hang out sometime?"

He felt blush cover his cheeks as soon as he said it, looking at the ground sheepishly.

"I would love to." you said, sitting closer to him and shyly taking his hand in yours.

Maybe killing the boys wasn't that necessary, he thought, looking at your fingers now intertwined together.

♪ 🌻 ♪

Author's note: I swear the pico park video is my fav thing in the world. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoyed the story<3

[jpnriikicore]

── tan lines and light eyes

paring paul aron x fem!reader, word count 467, genre fluff, ( masterlist )

he leaned against the doorway of the balcony gazing at the spectacular view with the orange in the sunrise standing in only his boxers with his blond hair disheveled. ocean crashing against the shoreline. seagulls flying in the morning sky.

clothes lying on the floor from the bed to the front door. your faded rogue lipstick on the collar of his white button-up shirt that was discarded on the hardwood floor he wore last night. a diamond ring hidden in a small velvet box in his pant pocket that he wore last night and that he’s carried around since their fifth date waiting for the right moment.

you snap a photograph of him in that moment with an old fuji camera you brought along with you. you bend your knee upwards and lean your head forward to rest your chin against your knee as you admire the view of him in front of you. finally, at the realization that you indeed awake from your deep slumber. he didn’t want to wake you earlier this morning with how cute and peaceful you looked with your cheek squished up against the pillowcase and hair sprawled out. he walks over towards you tilting your head up to press a chaste kiss on your lips. he’s head dips down to press gentle kisses on the side of your neck. love marks already scattered across your neck that are going to be almost impossible to cover up. a freshly done tattoo of his number '17' on your shoulder blade.

your arm extended out for a piece of bacon on the food tray that was sent up earlier this morning. his hand follows your arm as he clasps your forearm and presses a gentle kiss on your wrist. he eyes flickering up to gaze at you as you feel him smile against your skin.

“morning, kallis." ( dear )

his accent was sleepy and thicker, as it always was in the morning, his watercolor eyes looked down at you as he lowered himself down onto the edge of the bed settling himself next to you.

“morning.”

you’re both still young and full of ambition to get to your dream. you’ve worked too damn hard to give it up now. a future red bull and mercedes driver. a secret little rendezvous that is hidden in the shadows. nobody else knows about your relationship besides your teammates.

after, finishing your piece of bacon. a giggle escaped from you as he pulled you down on top of him laying on the plush mattress. your cuddled up by his side sharing a chaste kiss. his dominant hand gently grazing her spine underneath one of his shirts. his nondominant hand tangled in your unruly hair. your head resting on his chest intently focusing on the patter of his heartbeat.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2024