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#oscar serving looks
heavenlyfixations · 10 months
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PEDRO PASCAL & OSCAR ISAAC — photographed by Stefan Ruiz & Kirra Cheers
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inchidentally · 2 months
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having a heart attack over Lando in a letterman jacket and Oscar in fitted all black looking a foot taller than him
EDIT: just realized Lando looked Oscar up and down there
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soft-girl-musings · 2 months
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love seeing everyone's icons change these past 2 weeks, everyone say thank u space sisters
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toasterpiastris · 27 days
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idk he looks very boyfriend or something…yeah I’m normal about this
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jesskasb · 1 year
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finally watched everything everywhere all at once cause like everyone with taste has recommended it AND now it wins all those oscars and since i was gonna be in a car for 3 hours i figured this was the perfect time to watch it. anyway,
i will never be the same
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mendely · 2 years
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TFW you wanna avoid engaging with Harry Potter series but at the same time Severus Snape is your unrealistic transition goal
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doromoni · 1 month
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Lunch Preferences | LN4
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Ships: Lando Norris x Personal Chef! Reader , Platonic! Oscar Piastri x Personal Chef! Reader
Warnings : None
Genre: fluff
Summary : Oscar’s food always tasted better and Lando finds out why.
Part 2
Lando was never adventurous when it came to certain things , most importantly when it came to the food that he consumed — His best friend Max could vouch on that , heck the entire grid and the whole McLaren hospitality can say it.
When it came down to it , when Lando didn’t like the ingredient used in the meal served in the Motorhome cafeteria, a special meal is always prepared for the Golden Boy of Mclaren. Most find it funny but the kitchen staff found it extremely annoying; to them Lando was a diva.
Kitchen personnel and caterers are shuffled within motorhomes and during races in different countries and it became problematic for Mclaren due to the new personnel’s lack of knowledge of their driver’s preferences. Funnily enough, this has become an issue much so that a protocol has been made stating that when a new driver is signed they are given their own personal chef that tours around with them during the races.
Cut to Oscar Piastri joining the Papaya Family , and Y/n L/n had been added to the roster. The Australian driver and Y/n had met during Oscar’s F2 season and had quickly formed a bond , by bond meaning Y/N fuels Oscar’s obsession with sweets. The aussie became obsessed so much that when the “personal chef” clause came up in his contract, his immediate answer was “ Y/N L/N”.
“Osc what the hell, What do you mean you got me a job at Mclaren? Are you high on sugar again?” You asked in disbelief as you stared at the Australian , an eyebrow raised.
You and Oscar are currently in his kitchen in his apartment in the UK, you trying to bake your f2 paddock famous cookies while Oscar tries to help , emphasis on tries.
“Oh come on Y/N! You’re perfect for this. You know my likes and dislikes . Plus you know how to trick me into eating my veggies” Oscar said exasperatingly.
“ Oscar as much as I love to feed you , you know that I cant travel with you, I have a job remember? Plus Im not a professional chef , you dummy! I just cook as a passion” You muttered softly trying to get your point across.
“Then quit! I know you hate your job y/n. This is your chance! I made sure that they’ll pay you handsomely ~ more than your current pay . I swear! PLUS you get to travel with me and you get to explore food all over the world” The boy did made a whole lot of sense…
“Fine , let me see the contract” Then an enormous grin plasters itself on his face.
***
* Brownies
“Holy Crap , Mate! These brownies are killer! Where did you get these?” Logan exclaimed as he continued to stuff his face with Oscar’s snacks prepared by Y/N of course.
“My chef made them for ME , Logan. Hands off “ Oscar swatted the American’s hand as he tried to get another piece.
“What are you two idiots up-to now? “ Alex spoke as he came near the duo, Lando right on his tail.
“Oscar brought these amazing brownies and He wont share ! Come on , mate just one more” Logan once again tried to reach for the bag only to be denied once again.
“Ohhh, let me try some of that!” Alex laid out his hand , and Logan complaining in the background saying “unfair “ as Oscar gave Alex one.
“You weren’t kidding! these are good. Lando try one” Alex gestured towards Lando.
Lando looking a bit apprehensive, took the offered treat and took a bite. As the Brit chewed , he couldn’t stop eating till there was no more. Screw belgian chocolate, that brownie was his favorite food now.
“Osc , give me another.” Lando requested to his now younger teammate.
“Nope~ these are mine” Oscar grinned teasingly as he stood up , away from the reach of his fellow drivers
“Oscarrrr , give em up you muppet!” Lando whined and pouted .
“No! Ask your chef to make you one. “ oscar implored.
“But the ones they make aren’t as good as thoseee” Lando continued to whine
“I know, these is Y/N’s special recipe. “ Oscar replied mockingly, a playful grin on his face as we waved them goodbye.
“Damn, Y/N made those? No wonder they tasted amazing” Logan muttered catching the attention of Lando.
“Y/N? Who?” Lando asked , now curious .
“Oh, Y/N is our friend , well now Oscar personal chef also. We met when Oscar and I were racing in F2. She used to bring us her cooking after the race.”
“Damn, did she put cocaine on those brownies or something?” Alex said wanting another bite.
“Did you say that she’s Oscar’s chef? That would mean that she’s in Mclaren right now?” Lando asked yet again to the now bemused American.
“Yes?” And with that Lando Norris is on a mission. Find the lady who makes extremely delicious brownies.
“Y/N” Lando muttered your name under his breath as he traversed towards his own motorhome with a purpose.
Finally reaching his destination only to be bombarded by his Pr manager pulling him along towards his media duties
Lando’s brownie mission was a fail
“Hey, do you know who’s Y/N?”
* Wok fried noodles
“ Ok so , Oscar will be done in a few minutes then it will be your turn” Lando’s manager , Valerie, explained as He was getting ready for the interview set up by Mclaren for a special edition for a motorsport magazine of some sorts.
“You should take a bite of your lunch , Lan. I don’t think you’ll be getting time to do so later” valerie explained, as she nudged the now cold , barely touched container of food towards the British driver.
“But there fish in it ,Val” The brit frowned as he glanced on his supposed to be lunch. How many times did he have to say NO FISH.
“It’s not even touching th-“ valerie tried to explain but was cut of by Lando as he exclaimed
“But it’s near a fish!” To which Valerie could only sigh and nod.
Then a knock and an opening of a door happened along with Oscar popping his head in — who appears to be carrying chopsticks and a container of sorts.
“ Hey, mate! They said it’ll be your turn in 15 mins or so” Oscar said as he scoops his lunch into his mouth.
“What ya eating there bud?” Lando couldn’t help ask as the savory aroma filled his room and a rumble came to his stomach.
“Some low carb noodle dish Y/N made , not really sure what’s it called . Tasted great tho.” The Australian said .
“Lemme have a bite” Lando waved his hands towards Oscar . With a shrug , oscar did.
As He took a bite , Lando could only think of one thing.
“Where could I get myself a Y/N”
* Spring Rolls
Practice 1 had just finished and the drivers have an hour or 2 to rest and kill time . And for our youngest Aussie driver on the grid it is time to annoy his lovely friend Y/N.
“ Hey, Y/N… could you please make extra servings of what ever you’re making for my lunch?” Oscar asked sheepishly
“Osc, No! You have to follow a strict calorie count and your trainer will kill me!” You said as you stoped what you were doing .
“It’s not for me, Its for Lando! He always eats my food “ Oscar explains and you understood clearly. Nodding with a smile , you shooed Oscar away.
“Thanks , Angel! “ Oscar left but not before leaving a kiss on your head.
You then set out to make lunch for 2 drivers, and finishing by packing them separately . You never forgot to leave a message on Oscar’s meals as encouragements to your closest friend
Your eyes go towards the food intended for Lando. You were contemplating whether you should write something or not. Biting your lip you took another piece of post it and started writing.
Maybe this is your chance to get the driver’s attention and shoot your shot. You have been crushing on the British driver for who knows how long. Tutting yourself you shake your head from your thoughts and delusions.
In the post it wrote ,
Dear, Lando
A little birdie told me that you liked my cooking , ey? Oh! I heard that you liked spring rolls so I made you a few. No fish , I promise. Hope you enjoy! And good luck on the race! I’ll be cheering on the sidelines 🧡
P.S. thank Osc , he begged me to tag you along :P
— Y/N
***
Butterflies filled Lando’s stomach as he opened the lunch box you made for him. You cooking for him and writing a note felt so domestic , like a wife and husband.Lando became a giggly mess as he re-read your note again and again.
He remembered the time when he first saw you. You were with Oscar in the Mclaren motorhome , sitting on the lounge when your eyes met his and you gave Lando a smile — it was only passing but to Lando it was enough. To him you were so angelic .He imagined coming home to you and you would cook for him and all seemed fine in the world.
“ you know , you should just ask her out on a date” and suddenly Lando was startled out of his daydreaming
“Huh , what? Dreaming? Who was? “ Lando tried to act cool in front of Oscar who was now sniggering as he leaned on the doorframe.
“ I know that you like Y/N, Lando! Just ask the girl already “
“Who’s Y/N?” Oscar rolled his eyes at his teammate
“You’re both idiots .y’know? You both have goggly eyes for each other — it honestly hurts to see. Here’s her number . Please just go out. Or I swear I’ll lock the two of you in a room or something. “ Lando was flabbergasted by his teammate who was now exiting the room.
“Uhh… Thanks Osc!” The Brit broke out into a huge smile as he shouted towards the australian
“Yeah yeah , just don’t hurt her or I promise to crash into you in every race”
***
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vivwritesfics · 1 month
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Just need need need a fix abt giving bf!Landon a bracelets that is literally just a bra strap and he wears it to the Ausgp and at first no one notices cz he wears so many bracelets anyway!! And then Oscar is the first to notice and he thinks it’s cute but still makes fun of him for it haha. And then the internet finds out and Lando and reader just cuddle in bed together laughing bc the internet thinks they’re insane/ freaky.
bf coded lando is my favourite lando
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"It's bwoken!"
Lando had heard that far too many times since their relationship had started. Any time something in their apartment broke, she'd shout it. At first he rolled his eyes, but he had come to love it.
He stood from his rig and walked into their bedroom. "What is it this time?" He asked as he sat on the bed and looked at her.
With her bra fastened, holding her boobs in place, she showed him the strap. It had snapped away from the back of the bra, handing down off the front.
It was maybe the oldest bra she owned,. She'd had it before she and Lando started dating, when they were just fucking. She'd worn it the first time they were together, back when it was actually nice. Now it served as a reminder of where she and Lando had come from. She kept it out of sentimental reasons.
But now it was broken, and she was so fucking upset about it. "Love," Lando said as though she was being ridiculous. But he saw the pout on her face and opened his arms. "C'mere."
She collapsed into his arms and he unclasped her bra. "We can frame it, if you want," he said, and she slapped his arm.
"Lan, we're not framing my bra," she said as she pulled away from him and dropped the bra into the bed. She got changed into another, grabbed the broken one, and took it to the kitchen.
They had the sewing kit in there. Neither of them were meant to be seamstresses, but they had the kit there in case the needed it. It seemed now, they did.
Lando went back to the sim as she sat at the kitchen table. She used the stitch picker to cleanly get the strap away from the bra. They were going to keep it, at least a part of it.
Lando couldn't help but wonder what she was doing while he raced on the sim. But, even with his mind somewhere else, he was still doing incredibly clean laps.
Maybe ten minutes later she came running into the room. "Hold your hand out," she said as she strode towards him.
Lando did as she asked. He paused mid race and held out his arm towards her. She slid whatever it was onto his wrist and tightened it. As soon as she let go, Lando held it towards his face. "Is this..."
"The broken bra strap? Yeah," she said.
Lando grinned. He grabbed a hold of her and pulled her closer, kissing her quickly. "I love it," he said. "I'll never take it off."
And Lando didn't take it off. Even when the F1 season started, he was still wearing it. Nobody noticed at first. Well, maybe their were a few comments online, but they were overshadowed by comments about his facial hair.
But then Oscar picked up on it.
It was the middle of an interview when Oscar saw it, the red strap highlighted against the microphone. "What the hell is that?" Oscar asked, tapping the microphone against the 'bracelet'.
Lando blushed red and looked at his shoes, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from the camera. He cleared his throat, steadied himself and held the microphone back to his lips. "My girlfriend made it for me."
Oscar, who hadn't forgetten the 'girlfriend' comment from before the season had started. He grinned as he held his microphone up. He had one, single word for Lando.
"Simp"
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heavenlyfixations · 2 months
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PEDRO PASCAL & OSCAR ISAAC — for The Hollywood Reporter (2023) & Fear of God (2024)
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astonmartinii · 2 months
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a spoonful of sugar part two | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader
cheffing it up all over the calendar, here we go again
PART ONE | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS
yourusername
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yourusername: we're in JAPAN 🇯🇵 WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!! yeah suzuka is cool and all but more importantly - SUSHI TIME and my oh my that spread is glorious if i do say so myself
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user1: oscar babygirlism is so real
landonorris: HOW DARE YOU GUYS INVITE ME OVER FOR DINNER AND SERVE THAT
yourusername: boo fucking hoo, i've had enough of your whining buddy
landonorris: OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEING MEAN
oscarpiastri: i mean i would take the home-cooked meal from the professional chef but that's just me
landonorris: stop shaming me :( i can't help it :(
yourusername: okay stop being dramatic, you can comeback from your hiding place i made chicken sushi as well
landonorris: oh thank you 😊
oscarpiastri: when i came in as the YOUNGER teammate, i didn't think y/n and i would be babysitting you
landonorris: you guys love me really
user2: i think y/n might have the patience of a saint
user3: i think i would die happy if i got a sushi spread from y/n
yukitsunoda0511: personally offended i was not invited :(
yourusername: nooooooooooo yukiii :((((( - i'll bring left overs ?
yukitsunoda0511: yes please (i'm much nicer than lando)
landonorris: when will the slander end?
oscarpiastri: i'm personally offended that any time y/n is visiting ME she ends up cooking and looking after all of you :(
yourusername: i love you the most though
oscarpiastri: hehehehehehe
user4: this relationship is so precious to me actually
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: over the moon to get my first podium in f1 in my rookie season. p.s. get yourself a girlfriend that gives you a candy bouquet to celebrate your podium
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user5: oscodium i know that's right
mclarenf1: we don't think that's in your meal plan, but we'll let it slide for just this once
yourusername: damn right you will 🔫🔫🔫
oscarpiastri: okay no threatening my team on a post about my podium
yourusername: i guess they're fine (FOR NOW) (the next time i see team orders it's on sight)
mclarenf1: ... does this mean no more pasta parties? :(
yourusername: get my boy his first win and pasta for life for all of you
user6: the way y/n and oscar's mum both fell into each other when oscar crossed the finish line
user7: they're so real for that
user8: y/n is REAL wag representation, i too would go FUCKING mental if my boyf got a podium i would also be spraying champagne all over the garage and crying my eyes out
yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU
oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU MORE, THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS SUPPORTING ME - and looking after my mum after you caused a stampede in the garage
yourusername: hold on nicole is just as crazy as me
oscarpiastri: my two favourite women EVA
user9: when you're besties with your boyf's mum >>
landonorris: congrats oscahhhhhhh - how does one procure one of these bouquets?
oscarpiastri: hands off pal 🤨
landonorris: i just want CANDY STOP ACCUSING ME OF STUFF
yourusername: oh so now you want my food ....
landonorris: why are you ganging up on me ??? I'M JUST A CHILD ???
user10: i love watching oscar and y/n ganging up on lando
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logansargeant
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 309,788 others
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logansargeant: category is: thirdwheeling - the food is a definite plus
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user12: the real best trio in f1 ... sorry 2019 rookies
alexalbon: logie bear beating the unseasoned allegations... i am impressed
logansargeant: i am cultured?
yourusername: logan had no choice, he was eating what i made him
logansargeant: but i liked it!
yourusername: you did, i'm a proud mother
alexalbon: what are the chances of me and james getting some of the y/n food, we deserve it more than mclaren
yourusername: name the price...
user13: i love how oscar and y/n have collected so many drivers this season despite being the youngest
oscarpiastri: not even finished my first season and we've accumulated so many "children"
logansargeant: don't have a gf who is such a good chef if you didn't want to babysit me
yourusername: we can't help it we're mOTHER
oscarpiastri: 💅
charles_leclerc: @oscarpiastri did our post podium dinner in aus mean nothing? you're neglecting your 26 year old child
maxverstappen1: classic treatment of the eldest girl 😔
yourusername: you guys done being dramatic?
charles_leclerc: one second
charles_leclerc: YOU'RE JUST THE SAME AS EVERYONE ELSE, PICK ME UP AND DROP ME - USERS !!!!
charles_leclerc: okay done :)
oscarpiastri: ok... idk what the fuck is going on here
maxverstappen1: we want food [bangs cutlery on imaginary table]
user14: oscar going from being the shy one on the grid to wrangling charles and max is killing me
user15: him and y/n have the grid wrapped around their finger
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yourusername
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tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: this is everything you have ever deserved
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user18: i am going to throw myself on the track and let oscar run me over and put me out of my misery
oscarpiastri: i love you so much, couldn't do it without your support
yourusername: NUH UH you're SUPER DUPER AMAZINGLY FAST and i am lucky to be here to witness you :)
oscarpiastri: okay.... but no more passing out in the garage
yourusername: i'm just a girl 🎀
oscarpiastri: my girl x
yourusername: YOUR GIRL (i've seen the tiktok edits BACK OFF)
user19: the way the other team members and teams let them have their moment was so cute
user20: zak brown pushing her to the front to be able to see him on the podium... maybe i don't hate him as much as i thought
user21: her taking ten billion photos while crying her eyes out was so cute
yourusername: they're all blurry 🧍🏻‍♂️
maxverstappen1: i guess you're the only one i'll tolerate outshining my championship win... congrats oscar!
oscarpiastri: thank you max :) also thank you to gp for giving y/n an ice pack
yourusername: gp got his name on a piece of cake
maxverstappen1: what about my cake?
yourusername: i guess i can spare another slice for you
oscarpiastri: we can give you a whole cake tomorrow if you let me win tomorrow?
maxverstappen1: nice try dude
yourusername: you haven't tried it yet
oscarpiastri: it's laced with crack (literally, DQ coming fast)
maxverstappen1: ????
yourusername: we jest
oscarpiastri: or do we?
user22: is gp another person they've collected?
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: no one else i'd rather celebrate with
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user23: they don't know it yet but they're actually my parents
user24: yeah, yeah oscar won a race woo BUT MAMA DROP THE RECIPE FOR THE THIRD SLIDE LOOKS LIKE IT BANGS
yourusername: i'm so unbelievably proud of you oscar, crying in the club right now
oscarpiastri: i didn't know the shower was also called the club (i can hear you crying and though i'm grateful you are this happy for me, it's getting slightly concerning)
yourusername: i just can't contain my excitement for you and it's turned into tears HAPPY TEARS
oscarpiastri: my mum can hear it from her room as well
yourusername: can't believe i'm being shamed like this
landonorris: will you cry this much for my first win
yourusername: nope, actively praying against it
landonorris: WHAT ??? OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEEN TOO MEAN THIS TIME
yourusername: i only want oscar to win every race from now until he retires soz buddy
oscarpiastri: idk that sounds like a good deal to me lando
landonorris: @yourusername i hope you drown in your tears
user25: well that escalated
danielricciardo: proud of you baby aussie !!! how can we get some aussie bbq in the paddock as celebration @yourusername 🤭
yourusername: someone get me a grill asap
danielricciardo: okay max it's time to stop being selfish, let oscar win another race so we can get more bbq i'm homesick
maxverstappen1: that's cute and all but FUCK THEM KIDS
yourusername: well no bbq for you then
maxverstappen1: you and oscar love me really
oscarpiastri: ???
user26: the way y/n tussles with these men kills me
user27: at this point get her a microphone and get her on that grid walk
mclarenf1
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mclarenf1: y/n delivered the pasta party she promised (admin is now in a food coma no more posts for the rest of the day)
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user28: the way we all thought this was a joke... i am now unwell
user29: dead ass the cutest thing i've ever seen
yourusername: thank you for having me besties, thank you for giving oscar a fast car and i hope you all actually make your flights in your pasta-induced naps
mclarenf1: that carbonara has me snoozing up a storm
oscarpiastri: (we nearly missed our flight)
landonorris: worth it, that pasta banged
yourusername: why thank you everyone i am blushing
yourusername: but real talk when does all this pasta translate into team orders in oscar's favour
mclarenf1: i don't think that's in my job description
landonorris: ...
oscarpiastri: well....
yourusername: you're making me look like a bad person 😭 i just want oscar to have the best possible time ever
oscarpiastri: i love you <3
landonorris: ugh... i guess that's cute
user30: i have never been more jealous ever in my life and it's over PASTA
georgerussell63: i am mobilising the GDPA against this. it's either pasta for ALL of us or NONE of us
yourusername: bring back seb you big wet wipe
georgerussell63: EXCUSE YOU!
charles_leclerc: i am an honourary italian and i am quite frankly offended i was not at least offered the left overs
oscarpiastri: but this was my special pasta party for my sprint win :(
georgerussell63: don't try and use that very cute and wholesome excuse with me mister, we have been robbed of pasta
yourusername: you queens are so dramatic i can't
user31: this sport is so unserious, they wouldn't protest over the conditions this weekend but pasta is where they draw the line 😭
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yourusername
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yourusername: if you're at COTA come on down to my bbq station it's mr america (@logansargeant) approved
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user33: miss ma'am is really raising the bar for all wags at this point
user34: who else is doing up masterchef at the track
logansargeant: i can confirm it is very good
yourusername: i knew there was a reason we love you logie bear
logansargeant: the ribs were so good you should honestly get an american passport
user35: guys i went and omg IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD + y/n was so fucking nice and said all proceeds are going to helping disadvantaged children get into karting
user36: my heart is so full i love them
maxverstappen1: slowing me down by making me have bbq i see how it is
yourusername: no one forced you to eat it buddy
maxverstappen1: well it's steak and mac and cheese ur dumb if you think i'm NOT fucking it up
yourusername: you got me there
danielricciardo: that was scrummy
charles_leclerc: petition for this to be here every week
georgerussell63: this just makes me more angry about missing out on pasta
user37: oscar is so much stronger than me cause if i had y/n i'd be asking for an absolute feast all of the time and would not stick to my meal plan
oscarpiastri: my favourite person doing her favourite thing <3
yourusername: you're my favourite thing
landonorris: keep that to yourself
yourusername: i can't love my bf now?
landonorris: that man is a child keep it PG
oscarpiastri: you made it not PG
yourusername: stop forcing your agenda on us lando
landonorris: i can't win with you people
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: first season done. proud. ready to eat like a king
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user38: i don't think i've ever barked in response to a picture of food
landonorris: where's mineeeeee :((((((((
oscarpiastri: season is over mate. y/n is back to being mine and mine only, we're hibernating in aus
landonorris: selfish
yourusername: let us eat our sushi in peace this off season
user39: oscar ready to keep y/n to himself what a king
oscarpiastri: tired of sharing my gf :( i know she's the bestest ever but still i was getting separation anxiety when she was stolen to make food for george
georgerussell63: no regrets
yourusername: you were always a king, but i'm ready to treat you like royalty
oscarpiastri: right back at you, queen
yourusername: all the food WE want all off season
maxverstappen1: okay guys we can hear you
charles_leclerc: this is no way to talk about your 27 year old children honestly
landonorris: i'm calling childline actually
yourusername: feel free girl, kiss my ass cause you won't see it for months
landonorris: GASP!
oscarpiastri: that's been brewing, stop asking y/n to make you chicken dippers bro
landonorris: :(
yourusername: regardless of all the tomfoolery and the stray cats (drivers) we've picked up, i'm so proud of you oscar - here's to an even better year next year
oscarpiastri: thank you, my love. couldn't do it without you. i love you.
yourusername: i love you too osc
fin.
note: heyyy?? yeah i've kinda gone missing in action. i am working on the last two WIPs but i am so busy and my writers block is so bad i had to revisit an old fave lol. hope yall enjoy !
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csainzoperator · 5 months
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yummy: LN4 ☆
summary: y/n is a chef in the mclaren hospitality who is famous for her fabulous recipies. everyone is head over heels for her recipies, and a certain someone is most definitely more than head over heels. but not just for the food.
(lando norris x fem!reader)
read more under the cut!
itsmey/n has posted!
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another day at work! for the british gp, their special "sticky toffee pudding" was a success :)
tagged: landonorris and oscarpiastri
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton and 76,123 others.
landonorris it was so yum (she fed us the so called desert forcefully after giving us a 4 course meal)
- oscarpiastri you're such an ungrateful brat. it was great, bestie itsmey/n
- itsmey/n thank you pastry, and lando...i might leave you to starve to death.
lewishamilton i would kill for a pudding rn! you should drop by merc hospitality y/n!
- mclaren look at you trying to steal our goddamn chef....
f1wagsss oh my god you're so pretty
landonorris has posted!
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P2 AT HOME RACE BABY!! so proud of the team to be finishing at P2 and P4. also special thanks to y/n for feeding us well :)
tagged: oscar piastri and itsmey/n
liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55, itsmey/n and 872,182,283 others.
landonorizz are we gonn ignore the fact that y/n just made it to a lando post???
lechaaair OH Y/N FEEDS US TOO. SHE SERVES ALL THE DAMN TIME. MOTHER 🙏🏼🙏🏼
itsmey/n its literally my job tho...?
- oscarpiastri some people are bad at their job. he's appreciating you for being good. (lando you fr have no rizz man)
carlaando lando are you trynna make a move GN
- landonowinss BROS PROBABLY REGRETTING RN 💀
(time skip!)
it was the hungarian gp. you were in the mclaren hospitality. the mclaren kitchen was quite big, and your co-workers were extremely sweet. you mainly cooked for the drivers and mechanics, while guiding the others. you were tasting a dish when you feel a presence behind you. you immediately recognise who it is.
"what is it now, lando?" you ask with a knowing smile on your face. he sits down on the counter beside you and watches you as you work. "i was wondering if you would like to, maybe, just maybe, come outside with me and sit down and talk and get some food you know?" he blabbers
"are you asking me out on a date?" you tease him. "well, yeah. only if you want it to be. its okay if you say no" he says with a sad smile on his face. you cup his face with one of your hands and give his cheeks a squeeze. "ofcourse i'll come, dumbass. now shoo, let me work. you're too distracting"
the smug smile he has on his face makes you blush. "so i am distracting huh? what else am i? you can give me details when we go on that date" he winks at you and walks off. you just simply shake your head in amusement.
the date goes well. to be honest, more than well. you both have the most fun ever. lando is everything that you craved. he was the sweetest boy. day by day, meal by meal, both of you started talking more, discovering each other. one fine night, in his apartment in london, where you taught him how to bake his favourite cake, he surprises you by asking you to be his girlfriend. you say yes without hesitation. you knew he wasn't going to play around with your heart.
it was the brazilian gp. lando had placed P2 again! you were the proudest girlfriend to exist, and the happiest. you were just so incredibly proud as he was doing so good this year.
itsmey/n has posted!
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brazil you were brilliiianttt <3 liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, landonorris and 92,233 others.
f1wags HOLD UP. SOFT LAUNCHING????
oscarpiastri yuck i hate being around the hospitality now.
landonorris 🌟
- carlandodod PLS IM NOT OK WHAT DOES THIS MEAN.
- leclercvc oh. my. god. guys. i think its lando and y/n.
f1gosssip apparently some people saw looking for his "girlfriend" after the race, and some people even saw him kissing a girl in the mclaren garage! we hope its y/n 😫
y/nfannn MOTHER WHO IS THAT
landonorris has posted!
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brazil with bae. thank you team for making the P2 happen! more to come.
p.s i don't believe in soft launches. she let me hard launch after 8 races 🖐🏼
tagged: itsmey/n and mclaren
liked by mclaren, itsmey/n, charles_leclerc and 827,123,12 others.
oscarpiastri GAG
carlandooo MAMA Y PAPA
carlossainz55 finally mate! congrats :)
maxverstappen1 lando isn't a kid anymore
f1wags OFFICIALLY OUR FAV WAG (with lily obv)
itsmey/n i love you, baby! super proud <3
- landonorris i love YOU. so much. so much.
paddockclubb 8 RACES?? HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON OMG
the end ♡
2K notes · View notes
lxclerc · 5 months
Text
𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐭 — 𝐚𝐚𝟐𝟑
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summary… the leclerc twins have a reputation of messing with drivers and they’ve got their eyes set on poor alex albon request… yes. pls let me sleep laura faceclaim… char argyrou pairing… alex albon x leclerc!reader
note… because laura graduated and got her driver’s license, i caved @coffeehurricanes
note again… this was surprisingly really fun to write as someone with my own annoying twin brother so it ended up longer than i meant it to which means this will have a part 2
part 1 | part 2
masterlist
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yn_leclerc
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liked by lorenzotl and others
yn_leclerc serving cunt (as always) (with my 3 fav minions)
view all comments…
username yn casually and unknowingly dropping alex thirst traps
⤷ username she knows she’s feeding the alex girlies
charles_leclerc charles erasure
⤷ yn_leclerc you know youre my most fav (you have the most money)
⤷ charles_leclerc gee thanks
alex_albon i thought you’d put slime on my hair
⤷ yn_leclerc i told you i wouldn’t. i was trying to style your hair 🙄🙄🙄
⤷ alex_albon i have 0 trust in you
⤷ username alex is waiting for that mega prank like the rest of us are
⤷ username i’m fully convinced they’d make alex cry worse than lando
⤷ landonorris it was one time and they ruined my limited edition louis vuitton
⤷ yn_leclerc *accidentally*
⤷ charles_leclerc that i paid for
arthur_leclerc hanging out without me now
⤷ yn_leclerc you were too busy crying abt having no seat for next season 🤗
⤷ username one thing about yn is that she’ll always give her brothers the painful unfiltered truth
username ok but not enough people are talking abt shirtless alex
⤷ username no bc picture me this; shirtless alex, they’re alone and she’s fixing his hair
⤷ username …that does sound oddly intimate
⤷ username yall are tripping. she and arthur did the same thing to oscar and max remember, became super close with them then pranked them when they least expected it
⤷ username yes but also it’s been literal months with alex
⤷ username that just means that the prank will be spectacular
arthur_leclerc
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liked by alex_albon and others
arthur_leclerc we are in badly need of your prayers for my twin sister, y/n 😓😞🙏
she’s fine. she’s just so insanely down bad for a man that she can’t say it to his face and needs me to follow them around so she can hang out with him bc she can’t look him in the eye.
view all comments…
leclerc_pascale ay, arthur! J'ai eu peur pour ta sœur ! (you had me scared for your sister!)
⤷ arthur_leclerc Tu devrais avoir peur, maman ! Elle pleure cet homme tous les soirs et il ne sait même pas qu'elle l'aime. (you should be scared, mom! she cries over this man every night and he doesn’t even know she likes him)
⤷ yn_leclerc Taisez-vous ! !! fermez votre bouche ! arrêtez de parler ! (shut up!!! keep your mouth shut! stop talking!)
yn_leclerc you’re dead to me 🙂
yn_leclerc 🖕🖕🖕
yn_leclerc j'aurais dû te manger dans le ventre de ta mère (i should have eaten you in the womb)
yn_leclerc you no longer have a sister
⤷ arthur_leclerc Comment faire autrement pour flirter avec **** ? (how else will you flirt with ****?)
⤷ yn_leclerc TAISEZ-VOUS !!! (SHUT UP!!!)
charles_leclerc a man, huh?
⤷ lorenzotl 🤔🤔🤔🤔
⤷ yn_leclerc no ❤️
⤷ username she gives no fucks 😭
username what are brothers for if not to publicly humiliate you?
username she’s so me coded actually
alex_albon prayers 🙏
⤷ arthur_leclerc thanks, mate. we appreciate it
alexandrasaintmleux and if i speak
⤷ yn_leclerc alexandra malena saint mleux don’t you dare
⤷ charles_leclerc you know too???
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux 🤐🤐🤐
username she’s like me bless
username for a M*N??
alex_albon
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liked by yn_leclerc and others
alex_albon was just trying to buy midnight snacks and then we got lost
view all comments…
yn_leclerc we didn’t get lost bc i had a map 😁
⤷ alex_albon that you didn’t know how to use
⤷ yn_leclerc you weren’t exactly offering your map reading knowledge either, albono
⤷ alex_albon watching you struggle was adorable
⤷ username HE CALLED HER ADORABLE
⤷ username idc what anyone says, i am an ynalex truther
arthur_leclerc i was there too, guys
⤷ yn_leclerc you complained the entire time
⤷ arthur_leclerc because you woke me up to accompany you guys
charles_leclerc why is there a puddle on the floor?
⤷ yn_leclerc alex dropped one of the ten liters big water bottle
⤷ alex_albon lies. y/n dropped it and i had to say i did because she looked like she’s about to start crying.
⤷ charles_leclerc yeah, that sounds like my sister
username alex, don’t trust them or else they’ll make you cry like they did lando
⤷ username we’re looking out for you 😭
georgerussell63 mate, don’t be getting comfortable with those two
⤷ yn_leclerc slander
⤷ arthur_leclerc fake
⤷ georgerussell63 you put a rat in my cereal
⤷ arthur_leclerc *plastic* rat
⤷ georgerussell63 i dropped and cracked my phone
⤷ yn_leclerc sounds like you were being clumsy 💁‍♀️
username george is forever traumatised by that rat
username hear me out 👀
yn_leclerc
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liked by alex_albon and others
yn_leclerc thirst trapping bc posting on my close friend that only has him in it isn’t enough apparently
view comments…
username she is so me!!!
username doesn’t matter how famous or pretty you are, you’ll always have an instagram close friends with only him in it
logansargeant i saw your close friends story on ****’s phone a few days ago 🤔🤔
⤷ yn_leclerc why were you looking over his phone you muppet?
⤷ logansargeant i just happened to glance by
⤷ username it’s alex. i’m fucking telling you all. ITS ALEX
⤷ username there’s literally no way it’s not alex
⤷ username it could be oscar
⤷ username bitch since when was o s c a r four letters?
⤷ username jack is four letters. they could be trying to throw us off
⤷ username JUST ACCEPT THAT ITS ALEX
charles_leclerc put a shirt on
⤷ yn_leclerc no ❤️
⤷ charles_leclerc 😡😡😡
⤷ username she’s always so unserious when it comes to charles lmao
arthur_leclerc abt to bleach my eyes brb
⤷ lorenzotl pass it over after
⤷ charles_leclerc pass it here too
⤷ yn_leclerc i could build a castle out of all the bricks they throw at me 💁‍♀️
username those leclerc genes are leclercing
username girl get the hell up 😭😭
charles_leclerc added to his story!
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yn_leclerc
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liked by alex_albon and others
yn_leclerc in the 1500s off in a foreign land, i was forced to marry another man (he can’t take the hint that i’ve been in love with him for years now)
view all comments…
username whoever he is, please just ask her out already 😭
username girl, i’ve said this before but for the love of god get the hell up!!! you are better than this!
⤷ yn_leclerc i fear i’m not, bff 😔
⤷ username man down 😓
logansargeant i’m telling you rn that he’s as in love with you!
⤷ yn_leclerc did he tell you that 🤨
⤷ logansargeant no but he wouldn’t have put up with for this long if he doesn’t
⤷ yn_leclerc he’s put up with you for an entire year
⤷ logansargeant yes but he’s paid to put up with me
⤷ username this is all the confirmation that i need. it’s alex
username take the goddamn hint already @alex_albon
charles_leclerc WHO IS IT
⤷ lorenzotl it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?
⤷ charles_leclerc okay but whoooooo
⤷ username charles is worse than alex 😭
arthur_leclerc this is getting pathetic. @alex_albon it’s you mate. she likes you, you like her. kiss it out 🙄
⤷ yn_leclerc ARTHURRRRRRRRR
⤷ username arthur 😭😭😭😭😭😭
⤷ charles_leclerc WHAT?
username arthur starting chaos bc hes so tired of listening to y/n mope 😭
username arthur revealing y/n’s crush and publicly embarrassing her (again), charles being shocked not having a single clue and lorenzo not caring as much is peak brother behaviors in ways i cannot explain
username i fucking told yall its alex
landonorris mate dont leave a lady waiting @alex_albon
⤷ oscarpiastri yeahhh
⤷ yn_leclerc both of you shut the hell up before i replace your shampoo with nair
⤷ landonorris how would you even have access to my shampoo-
⤷ oscarpiastri don’t ask mate. she’s done it before to dennis in f3
username paging @alex_albon
username @alex_albon dont fucking fumble a bad bitch like her come on now
alex_albon oh?
⤷ yn_leclerc public announcement that y/n y/m/n leclerc has died in a ditch and cannot be contacted at this hour. or ever.
⤷ alex_albon i know where you live
⤷ yn_leclerc locking the doors and putting salt around the property as we speak
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happy birthday and congratulations to my most loved laura. i love and adore you and i can’t wait to watch you be the woman that you’re always been capable of.
1K notes · View notes
propertyofwicked · 16 days
Text
HOMESICK - LN
content warnings: just fluff really, mentions of anxiety, being far from family
2.4k words - lemme know if u want a pt2 for this one :)
masterlist
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y/n hated new places, she hated change, and most of all she hated being away from home. y/n knew she would eventually feel a sense of comfort and familiarity in woking, but for now, her blood ran hot, and an icy sweat took over her body, her eyes tearful even though she couldn’t pin point why she felt so upset. the flat was silent, and yet deafening, every whistle of wind or creak of a floorboard serving as her constant reminder - you are alone, your are miles away from your family, everything is unfamiliar.
she found herself constantly shaking her head, trying to knock some sense into herself
you’ve done this before, you went to university even further from your family, you did this for 3 years, you can do it again. you are a grown woman now sort yourself out.
her thoughts battled loudly with each other, one side of her brain logical, the other trying to sabotage her.
it just didn’t make sense - she travelled across the world almost weekly, filming and editing content for the mclaren social media pages, working closely with the drivers, engineers and management and never once felt overwhelmed with the distance from home comforts. she supposed being constantly on the move, keeping her mind and body occupied with her work boded well in distracting her from feeling homesick. the close bond she’d formed with everyone in the garages probably aided her even further, provided her with a new sense of family away from home.
but for now, she sat cross legged on her desk chair, arms resting on the table, her head balancing precariously in her hands, deep in sleep. y/n had arrived at the offices at 10pm, unable to sleep in her empty flat, the feeling of constant nausea and upset overbearing, and deciding that being productive was a much better use of her time - a great distraction from her loneliness. she hadn’t intended to fall asleep, especially not in a position that put so much strain on her back, and yet here she was.
3am in the mclaren offices and all that could be heard was heavy, exhausted breathing and the soft whir of a computer fan that ran idly in the background.
this is something that lando found peculiar - who was sleeping in the office? and why were they sleeping here? he thought to himself as he and oscar snuck into the building from the side door.
as they rounded the corner, oscar’s mouth opened, starting to ask the same thing lando had been questioning, but was cut off by lando’s finger raising to his own lips, shushing the younger man before pointing to y/n’s desk, her head now resting on the table cheek smushing her forgotten glasses further into her face uncomfortably.
the two of them, stared at the girl before moving to look back at each other, a mix of confusion and amusement glossing their faces.
“wh- why is she here?” he asked, out of pure concern for the girl.
“i don’t know oscar, we walked in at the same time?” lando responds, taking long but quiet steps to stand behind her chair.
“didn’t she just get a new flat near here? why wouldn’t she go home?” oscar asked again, mindlessly, knowing that lando was also bewildered to the sight in front of them. the older man simply shrugged in response, moving to rest a hand on the sleeping girl’s shoulder, bending slightly till he was level with her face.
“y/n? y/n?” he asked her softly, moving her shoulder gently in his hand as to not startle her, “you need to wake up, darlin’, can’t sleep here,” he adds, noting her breathing change as she came back to reality.
“lando?” she asked, startled, despite his best efforts, “what are you doing here it’s like -” she wiggled the mouse on her computer to bring up the home screen, “3am?”
“what are you doing here at 3am? not to mention, fast asleep at your desk,” he retorts, standing back and crossing his arms over his chest. she finally clocks oscar stood awkwardly behind him, sending him a quick smile, before leaning back in her chair, looking at lando again.
“i asked first.”
“we’re breaking in to decorate zach’s office for his birthday,” he says as though it was obvious, laughing slightly at the thought of the hello kitty balloons stuffed into the bag oscar held behind his back, “now, what are you doing here?”
“working,” she replied, offering no more to her story.
“with your eyes closed? drooling on your desk? i don’t think so.”
“i was not drooling,” she argues, confident in her words despite the back of her hand moving to wipe her mouth just in case.
“you we-”
“didn’t you just move in to a new flat y/n?” oscar asks, interrupting what he was sure would be an entertaining round of bickering between the two.
“i did,” she says with a nod, “i just got so caught up in my work. didn’t realise what the time was,” she adds, dodging the subject of her empty flat. the flat so empty of life, but so full of overwhelming silence and dread, and yet she found solace in the silence of the mclaren offices.
“do you want a ride home?” lando asked, sensing there was more to the story, but leaving the can unopened, for now.
she shook her head, breathing out a long sigh as she did.
“no thanks, i might just stay here till the work day starts,” she adds, her hand rubbing her eyes slightly, feeling the exhaustion still looming in her brain.
“are you sure?” oscar asked, concern rising in his voice again.
“yep,” y/n replied, the ‘p’ exaggerated.
the boys looked at each other, a silent exchange of words between the team mates as they moved in the direction of zach’s office once again.
“we’ll come check in with you before we leave, yeah?” lando added, before turning on his heel and following oscar down the long hallway. she nodded even though they couldn’t see her, before pulling the hood of her jumper over her hair, and letting her head fall back onto the desk, using her arms as makeshift pillows.
it was nearing 4am when the two returned, once again guided down the hallway by the sound of y/n’s heavy breathing. they stopped just before they could see her, turning to each other.
“we gotta get her home. her back is gonna be ruined if she keeps sleeping like that,” oscar says, keeping his voice low.
“i know - she still hasn’t forgiven jon for letting her sleep curled up under a table a year ago. spent the whole week complaining about her spine aching,” lando replied, smiling softly at the memory of her trying to bend herself backwards over a chair to ‘reset’ her back, as she had claimed.
“how do we get her to leave? willingly? without the kicking and screaming?” lando asked after a moment of silence, the boys plotting their next moves.
“you’ll think of something, im sure. she’ll never say no to you,” oscar replies, his hands moving to grip his car keys in the pockets of his joggers.
“what do you mean? ill think of something? you’re not leaving me to deal with her on my own, are you?” lando asked, suddenly doubting his abilities to contend with the strong willed woman asleep not 3 metres away from them.
“i left lily sleeping 2 hours ago, and i don’t feel like explaining this,” he says, pointing at the room in general, “when she wakes up and realises im not there,” he finishes with a shrug.
“fine,” lando says with a huff, “wish me luck.”
“good luck. lemme know how she gets on,” the australian replies, walking away from lando slowly, but glancing into the office space to check on y/n one last time.
lando sighed again, before sauntering back into the room he had left her in an hour ago. he moved to crouch next to her again, his fingers moving to pull her hood back, tucking her hair out of her face as he did. she looked so peaceful like this, her eyes twitching slightly under the pressure of sleep, a lose strand of hair blowing with every exhale. he didn’t want to wake her, but there was no other option unless he wheeled her out on the chair she sat on.
“angel? y/n?” he paused, grimacing slightly at his slip up, “it’s time to go,” he said softly, stroking her arm gently. he hoped she was too sleepy to notice the pet name.
“go where?” she mumbled, in her half-asleep state, eyes opening to look at him.
“home, y/n. need to get you in a proper bed.”
“no, im fine here,” she said, quickly defending her choice of sleeping position, “you go, ill see you later.”
“nuh-uh,” he tutted, standing in front of her to grip both her arms, dragging her up from the chair, “you are going to go home and sleep in a proper bed.”
“i don’t have my car and there’s no buses at this time.”
“ill drive you home.”
“it’s out of your way, you’d be wasting a journey.”
“don’t care. you’re getting in my car and im taking you home,” he argued back, finalising the argument she knew she wouldn’t win.
“fine,” she huffed, still clawing for the last word even if she had lost the battle.
soon, they were stood in the car park, lando stepping to the side to pull the passenger door open, a hand firmly on her back pushing her into the car. she wanted to argue that she was fully capable of getting in the car on her own, but the pure exhaustion took over as she adjusted the seat to her comfort, clicking her belt in as lando started the engine.
the car was silent, asides from the fans that pushed warm air into the vehicle and the low humming of the engine. he tried his best to take the roads slow, especially as he neared her flat, fearing waking up the neighbourhood with the growling of his car when he accelerated.
“what’s the real reason you didn’t wanna go home?” he asked, arm coming to rest at his side.
“i told you, i didn’t realise what time it was,” she said, refusing to let her lie catch up with her.
“bullshit.”
“what?”
“i said, bullshit. that’s not the real reason.”
“im homesick,” she spat out, “ok? im an adult woman who can’t handle the prospect of being home alone, 200 miles away from her family. happy now?”
“happ- why would i be happy about that?” he asked, his tone softer than his previous outburst. they were now pulling into her apartment building, y/n still neglecting to answer him until the car pulled to a complete stop.
“you wanna come in, for a bit?” she asked, biting her tongue.
“do you want me to come in?”
“yeah, if you want to. only for a bit,” she said again.
“ok,” his response was simple, he didn’t really need to think it through. he glanced down at his watch, 5:15am, and yet, he could not feel more awake. he didn’t mind staying, especially if it gave her the comfort to move freely in her own home.
walking into her flat felt oddly natural to him, despite him having never been there. the two could be considered close friends, not that either of them would acknowledge it, but spending years working closely together, travelling around the world, tends to do that. they’d started working at mclaren at similar times, him as a driver and her as a content creator for the brand, the new job nerves acting as almost a trauma bond between the two. they’d spent many nights in each others hotel rooms, playing games, watching films, often with oscar in tow - anything to pass the time in between races - but the two had never crossed the personal boundary into each others homes.
and yet, lando strolled in, took his shoes off by the door, and threw himself down on the sofa as if this was a daily thing. y/n dropped herself down next to him, sighing as she did.
“you need to sleep,” he said, turning to look at her, his arm thrown over the back of the sofa where she sat.
“my brain is too awake now,” she said, voice never faltering despite her stomach turning as she realises how close they were sat, the way his warmth surrounded her as his fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the seat behind her head.
“you wanna watch something till you settle again?” he asked, tv remote already in hand.
“sounds good,” she replied, tight lipped, eyes focusing as he scrolled through her netflix, settling on a film she didn’t care to remember the name of.
before the opening credits had even started, y/n body slumped against lando’s, head dropping to rest below his shoulder. he tensed slightly, relaxing again when he looked down to see her eyes closed, chest heaving deep breathes once again. his arm resting on the sofa dropped behind her back, his hand moving to hold her waist gently, fingers drawing light circles on the fabric of her leggings.
a while later, he moved his hips slightly, trying to re adjust his position to stop his legs going dead. he feared he had woken her, when she mumbled something incoherent and began moving. lando allowed himself to let out a shaky breath as she twisted herself into his side, her arm moving to wrap around his waist, her leg bending upwards to rest on top of his.
he waited a moment, as if to check she was really sleeping, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head.
“goodnight, angel,” he whispered.
lando told himself he’d leave when the film ended. in his silence he planned how to move from the sofa without waking her. but then his eyes grew tired, and he told himself he’d shut them, just for a moment.
the two of them lay on the sofa, fast asleep. his posture had sloped in his slumber, shifting their bodies into a recline, his arms wrapped tightly around her and she settled onto his chest. their legs entwined with each other, a blanket lando had attempted to wrap around her had fallen haphazardly to the floor.
659 notes · View notes
emotionaldamages · 6 months
Text
boyfriends boyfriend- charles leclerc
°☆° y/n is charles gf but pierre is charles "bf"°☆°
pairings- charles leclerc x reader
authors note- the french is google translated
masterlist
y/n l/n
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liked by francsica.cgomez, charles_leclerc, and 4,387,983
y/n l/n the gfs and the bfs
tagged francsica.cgomez, charles_leclerc, and pierregasly
view all 2,273 comments
username kika and y/n are just the best wags
username i'm obsessed with them
username they're so hot i can't
username y/n is charles gf, but pierre is charles bf, while kika is pierre's gf but y/n is kika's gf
username that was just too much
username are they in a poly relationship?
username nope its just a little joke
username NEW MOVIE OR SHOW OR SOMETHING PLEASE
lilymhe I miss my gfs
y/n l/n we miss you too😓
alex_albon hello??
danielriccardo they look like they just woke up smh, they couldve atleast been prepared
y/n l/n I'm saying
charles_leclerc we literally were ready before you love
pierregasly exactly we were ready before you all
francisca.cgomez yeah no
username yea cool story. more red carpet looks
username the scenery is just chef's kiss
username we need more girls getaway adventures
y/ngasly
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liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 7,937,752
y/n l/n oscars♡
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username holy mother of love-
francisca.cgomez loml🥰
pierregasly she isnt the one you kiss
y/n l/n hate to break it to you buddy..
pierregasly shut up , that's why i have charles
username AHDUDHEJE
username charles can u fight
username mother is just wow
lilymhe MY BABY IS SO FINE
alex_albon hello again??
username chefs kiss
charles_leclerc ma belle fille
y/n l/n me no speak french, me only speak espanich
username fell onto my knees in the middle of my living room
username fainted
username God has favorites
username oh to be charles
username I need my inhaler, you took my breath away
y/n l/n
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liked by lilymhe, heidiberger_, and 3,862,986
y/n l/n vacations, and my home town sayulita, mexico(last two photos)
view all 3,873 comments
username we love a multi cultural queen
username I need a vacation
username i just find it hard to believe she's even real at this point
username I'm obsessed
francisca.cgomes we need a girl's getaway now!
y/n l/n I second that!
lilymhe I third that!
carmenmmundt I fourth that!
heidiberger_ I fifth that!
charles_leclerc
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liked by y/n l/n, landonorris, and 587,783
charles_leclerc date night
tagged y/n l/n
view all 1,372 comments
username parents
username they are so cute
username can you adopt me pls I'd do anything..
pierregasly what a couple
username CHARLES AND HER
username shes looks like a little kid exploring
danielriccardo bring back a fish
y/n l/n danny...
username they are my parents they just dont know it
username how did a man who races in circles pull her
landonorris I wasnt taken because?
y/n l/n your in a different country??
charles_leclerc he still wanted to be invite amore
landonorris yea I couldve still been invited
y/n l/n
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liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 4,836,723
y/n l/n ah yes the daily life with formula one
tagged mercedesamgf1, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and carlossainz55
view all 6,826 comments
mercedesamgf1 delete that-toto
y/n l/n no thanks grandpa
username we need a baby leclerc
username love everyone flipping you off
username charles hiding is everything
username carlos is just 😫
pierregasly your annoying
y/n l/n you're*
username I love that pierre and y/n argue like siblings
username date me instead of him
username y/n is serving
username proposal now.
francisca.cgomez
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liked by y/n l/n, heidiberger_, and 827,863
francisca.cgomez pov the plans made it out the groupchat
tagged y/n l/n, carmenmmundt, lilymhe, and heidiberger_
view all 1,763 comments
y/n l/n I fell off the quad seconds later
username I love them
username I'm trying to hangout with them
username I need better friends
pierregasly come back home
charles_leclerc give me my girlfriend back
carmenmmundt no
lilymhe no
francisca.cgomez no
heidiberger_ no
y/n l/n I'll be back soon love❤
username they really left their mans at home
username I need a vacation school is stressful
charles_leclerc
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liked by y/n l/n, landonorris, and 2,937,872
charles_leclerc I got my girlfriend back
tagged y/n l/n
view all 2,862 comments
username I LOVE U GUYS
username pls give me a man like charles
username true love is everything I want
username i’m so happy that you guys found each other
username the sweetest couple ever
username some of you don't understand, but they are my parents... they just don't know it, but they are
username F1 IT COUPLE
username where can i get a charles of my own?
username i'm obsessed with them
landonorris guys those are my parents
danielriccardo we need a mini leclerc
pierregasly finally she wont steal my gf
y/n l/n oh gasly you just wait
alex_albon your screwed
y/n l/n you're* but better watch ur back to albon
georgerussell63 tell your gf I said thank you for bringing my gf back in one piece
y/n l/n always a pleasure but shes mine😌
1K notes · View notes
keerysfreckles · 19 days
Text
angel eyes — OP81 (smau)
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
summary: oscar falls in love on a trip to greece
warnings: like one sexual innuendo if you squint
a/n: this is just fueling my mamma mia obsession
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
yourusername just posted !
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liked by bffusername, oscarpiastri and 190,026 others
yourusername i never want to leave 🤍🇬🇷 tagged: oscarpiastri
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user1 just casually meets oscar on vacay????
user2 i smell a great friendship forming
bffusername y/n who's that..
yourusername oscar 😅😅
bffusername and oscar is.......?
yourusername my new best friend
bffusername WHAT?!?!
oscarpiastri sorry not sorry
user3 THE MAMMA MIA VIBES YES!!!
oscarpiastri sadly we have to leave tomorrow
yourusername osc don't remind me 😞
imessage between y/n and bffname !
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oscarpiastri just posted !
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 651,028 others
oscarpiastri she made greece even better:) tagged: yourusername
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user1 oh to go to greece with oscar 😖
user2 THEYRE SO CUTE 🥹🥹
landonorris IS THIS THE GIRL YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT?????
user3 PLS NOT LANDO EXPOSING OSCAR 😭😭
oscarpiastri thanks for bringing that up idiot
user4 oscar you need to watch mamma mia IM BEGGING
user5 greece vlog when
yourusername can we adopt that cat pls 🥺
oscarpiastri how would you get it on the plane
yourusername uhhh with my charm?
alex_albon so the trip was only fun when y/n was around?? i see how it is piastri
oscarpiastri 🤷‍♂️
imessage between y/n and oscar !
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oscarpiastri just posted !
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liked by yourusername, georgerussell and 447,193 others
oscarpiastri movie marathon before the craziness begins tagged: yourusername, landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussell63
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user1 Y/N WITH THE 2019 ROOKIES PLS
user2 i need all the boys opinions on little women omg
oscarpiastri amy was the only right choice for laurie
alex_albon i miss beth :(
georgerussell63 i fell asleep halfway through
landonorris JOLAURIE ALL THE WAY
user3 Y/N GOT YOU TO WATCH MAMMA MIA OMGOMG
yourusername i still can't believe osc was the only one that like mamma mia
landonorris you know i hate musicals
oscarpiastri you won't be saying that when we watch hsm movies next weekend
yourusername just posted !
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liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 309,822 others
yourusername can proudly say i've been converted into a mclaren fan after this weekend 🧡🏎 tagged: oscarpiastri, mclaren
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user1 YES SHES A MCLAREN GIRL 🤞🤞
bffusername can't believe i wasn't invited 🙄
yourusername sorry osc just likes me better
mclaren ready to be back next race weekend?
yourusername only if oscar gets on the podium again
user2 oscar looks so done in the third pic 😭
yourusername to be fair he was only awake for 5 minutes before the challenge video started
user3 oscar in his passenger princess era
user4 SHE LOOKED STUNNING IN THE PADDOCK SHE WAS SERVING
oscarpiastri i didn't give you permission to post the second pic
yourusername oh well!!!
yourusername added to their story !
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[another weekend, another time following osc around oscarpiastri]
oscarpiastri just posted !
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 781,244 others
oscarpiastri thankful to say i got this podium because my good luck charm was here 🧡
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user1 oscar podium looks so good
user2 THANK GOD I WOKE UP IN TIME
user3 HIS GOOD LUCK CHARM????????????
landonorris aw i'm your good luck charm 🤗
oscarpiastri no you're not lando
user4 good luck charm as in.. y/n??
yourusername THAT'S MY OSC!!!!!!!!!!!
yourusername your podium glow is crazy
oscarpiastri crazy how you said something similar last night
yourusername OSCAR.
user5 welcome back LECPIAHAM
mclaren just posted !
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 955,630 others
mclaren our podium winner from the eyes of his good luck charm tagged: oscarpiastri, yourusername
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user1 NOT THE MCLAREN ACC HARD LAUNCHING Y/NOSC ?????
user2 so we were right abt who his lucky charm is
user3 Y/NOSCARS REAL???? WE AREN'T DREAMING????????
oscarpiastri petition for my good luck charm to come to every race
mclaren we're working on it 🫡
user4 i would pay good money to see more pics like these
user5 pookie is pookie-ing
yourusername i love your podium winner 😁
mclaren our podium winner loves you
oscarpiastri it's true 😁
979 notes · View notes
lauraneedstochill · 8 months
Text
Confess the longing you are dreaming of
summary: Aemond thinks the woman he has to marry is the most impudent and unsufferable he’s ever met. He’s also never wanted anyone so badly. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Martell!reader (third person, no mention of Y/N) warnings: bantering and teasing, mentions of unpleasant sexual experience, praise kink (guess who’s got it), a dollop of softness, mild smut (... for starters ;) author’s note: couldn’t get the idea out of my head and spent a few sleepless nights writing this. I imagine her brothers as Pedro Pascal and Oscar Isaac ✨ words: ~8000 song inspo: Hozier — Better love
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>>> Aemond isn’t present when the idea is voiced the first time — he has a hunch that his grandsire is to blame for that. No doubt, Otto was the one to plan it out, come up with arguments served with his persuasive tone. He’s always loved to make arrangements and strike deals, each one of them to play into his hands, and Aemond hates the thought of being just another pawn of his.
He is blindsided at the breakfast but it’s made sound carelessly mundane — as Otto puts down his cup, he throws him the proposal, the way one would leniently throw alms to the poor. And Aemond thinks he must’ve heard him wrong.
“Marry me to... Who?” the prince asks, hardly covering his surprise.
His grandsire directs his gaze at him, the old man’s mouth twitching into a condescending smile. Since Otto isn’t keen on idle talk, he tells him plainly:
“You’ve long been of age, Aemond, you know that,” his knife scratches the plate as he cuts the meat, his eyes not moving from the prince. “House Martell holds power, and we’ll be fortunate to have such allies. Besides,” he pauses to take a bite, and Aemond gets annoyed at waiting; Otto chews, then adds, “I’ve only heard good things about your bride-to-be. Wouldn’t you confirm, Ser Criston?”
The mention of the knight is unexpected to them both — Aemond turns his head to meet Ser Criston’s puzzled look. But the brunet effortlessly copes with his emotions:
“We met when she was just a kid. But I knew she’d grow into a fine lady,” he easily agrees. Mayhaps, too easily for Aemond’s liking so he makes a note to talk about it later on.
His grandsire only lets out a pleased hum. “Well, I’m under the impression she will make a good match for our prince,” and Aemond feels that Otto carefully picks each word, “She’s said to be both beautiful and smart, and known for being quite independent,” he’s usually so stingy with his praise, it’s worth its weight in gold.
But that is not what Aemond hears. The choice was made for him, and his rejection of it makes him paint a portrait less alluring — a pompous wayward woman raised in the traditions that are starkly different from his; and yet, it is expected of him to accept it freely. His wounded ego simmers at the thought.
“I’d add another word to that,” Aegon chimes in, half-drunk already, “Everyone knows the Martells to also be promisc—”
“Look who’s talking,” Otto glares at him, and Aegon shuts his mouth.
The word is left unsaid, only the meaning of it isn’t hard to guess, and Aemond feels embarrassment creeping up his cheeks and weighting down his chest. He deems himself an educated man, well-read and eager to put his knowledge to the test, but he has yet to learn of carnal pleasures. A memory is clawing out: him, ten-and-three and plied with wine, laid on a bed that smelled of sweat, a naked woman next to him. Despite her tireless attempts, he wanted none of it, and the repulsion made him sick — and then it made him hate the act itself.
He did go to the brothel through the years, tried watching, touching, looked at bodies of all sorts, only it felt like putting paint over a rotten wall. He felt constrained, and lacking in some way (perhaps, in many), and more so awfully incomplete. Not once he sensed a spark, a pleasure he would crave, and no amount of effort could help him fill the emptiness inside.
He quells the feeling, pushes in indifference instead, and glances briefly at his mother. She meets his eye but only grants him a faint smile, her own gaze lacking any protest.
“Her brothers wrote that they would visit in a fortnight,” Alicent peacefully explains. “It is our duty to ensure a royal welcome.”
“Brothers?” Helaena blithely chirps. “How many does she have?”
“Four but only two of them are coming,” Otto tells her softly, then looks at Aemond, adding in a voice more wily. “I am convinced they really want to see whom their dear sister is about to marry.”
He doesn’t spell it out but the implication can’t be clearer — Aemond must play the part and make a good impression. As if impressing just one stranger wasn’t tedious enough.
As if he isn’t vexed already by how unsuitable he finds her.
>>> Frustration grows in Aemond with each day, takes roots, and clogs up all his thoughts. Some other man would’ve been glad — he often heard that the Martells are quite the lovers. He can’t admit it to himself how much he’s bothered by his own misfortunes on the love field.
He bottles his emotions up and doesn’t utter any word of discontent, nor does he ever speak of the awaited visit. Although he makes just one exception.
“My grandsire mentioned that you knew her,” he reminds Ser Criston one day after training.
The knight nods. “I crossed paths with Quentyn, he’s the oldest. She used to come to watch us train.”
“What was she like?” Aemond carefully wonders.
Ser Criston ponders for a minute, polishing his sword. “She was a quiet little girl, kept to herself. A lot of boys were always chasing after her, and she paid them all no mind,” he smiles at the memory. “But I remember one of them who was... particularly pesky. His charms didn’t work on her so he got offended, rude, followed her around. She tolerated him for over a month. One morning, he was hassling her in the training yard, and she just took a spear laying nearby — and smacked him with no warning,” he shakes his head but it’s apparent that he isn’t judging. “She didn’t use the pointy end but she got him good. And then she told him that next time he would think twice about his actions. She was impressive for a ten-year-old,” he muses and puts the sword away, then turns to Aemond, giving him a wistful stare. “Frankly, I think that you will like her.”
He does, for just a second, as his mind rushes to paint the image of a fearless little girl; and then he mercilessly wipes that image off. Maybe in other circumstances, he could’ve found amusement in that story, but Aemond only huffs and thinks back to the list of all her traits he prematurely made up. He adds “rebellious” to that list, and his self-doubt is a venom that clouds his judgment. He’s in no rush to find a cure.
>>> Their ship arrives a few hours earlier than planned — and after the dock watchers break the news, the bustle begins. Maids, servants, guards all run and faff about the castle, the dining hall gets filled with smells and noises, plates and dishes clanking.
Aemond is not excited in the slightest.
He dresses up reluctantly, each piece of clothes only dampening his mood that’s been already sour for the past two weeks. He all but drags his feet into the dining hall and by the time he reaches it, he looks so grim that one may think the prince’s preparing for his death, no less.
The minutes fly too quickly for his liking — they barely have time to sit, his mother nervously toying with the tablecloth already, and then the guards rush to announce the guests. Surprisingly, she’s not among them. The prince thinks he should be relieved; deep down, there is a splash of worry fizzling in him.
Her brothers walk in calmly in a cloud of servants bearing gifts. Their kinship is immediately clear — both tall, broad-shouldered, and dark-haired, self-confidence subsisting in their every step. The oldest is distinguished by a touch of gray in his short beard, his gaze more focused, a slight smile plastered on his face. The other one shamelessly stares at every maid his eyes can catch.
“Your grace, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Quentyn reaches their table first, and Alicent walks down to greet them. He keeps his distance and his smile, his tone is measured. “We were so sad to learn that the King has fallen sick. But I can tell the Kingdom is in great hands. And —”
“Women’s hands do have a healing touch,” Oberyn smoothly interrupts, his accent a bit thicker, his voice honeyed. “I will prefer a Queen over a King at any given day. Unless, of course, your husband can compete with you in beauty... I somehow doubt that.”
A shade of disapproval grazes Quentyn’s face but Alicent is too amazed to notice. The compliment may come off as blunt but she still takes it well, her smile embarrassed yet sincere.
“I hope you will enjoy your stay,” she tells them humbly, then looks over the crowd. “But may I ask where is the lady we’ve been waiting for?”
“She made a stop on our way to catch up with an old friend,” Quentyn answers, ready to explain, “It’s been years since we’ve met Ser —”
“Still can’t believe he is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard,” Oberyn chuckles. “I think it’s all the armor that makes it look like he poses a threat. But you may reconsider if you see him in the nude.”
This time, the older brother glares at him with warning, and there’s a lull in their conversation, while Aemond’s struggling to hear what made his mother’s cheeks so red, his mind nervously preoccupied with someone else —
her laughter enters first.
It’s bright and joyful, a sound so lovely it might be enough to crack up his restraint. But then he spots her, and it feels like his whole body flares up at the sight.
She’s walking with her hand under Ser Criston’s arm, and Aemond’s never seen a dress that covers so much but hides so little. It’s muted orange, floor-length, made of sumptuous silk, with two long slits along the sides, curves of her thighs beguilingly seen through. Her neck and arms aren’t covered, and the material is intricately stitched around her waist to show a few more glimpses of her sun-kissed skin. The waves of her long hair fall on her shoulders and frame her face, each feature of it striking but her lips stand out the most — full, plump, and reddish. Not once before Aemond found the thought of being kissed so tempting.
She doesn’t even turn her head to look at him. She’s talking to Ser Criston quietly, and he’s engaged in conversation, unusually relaxed. Their difference in age is obvious, and the knight seems like just another relative of hers, but an uneasy feeling still leaves a bite on Aemond’s chest. He can’t imagine her so carefree — so beaming and compliant — by his side. His jealousy tastes bitter like a stale wine.
He hears his brother let out a short laugh. “It’s not like they were fucking,” Aegon carelessly notes. “Please ease your outrage before she runs away.”
“I don’t remember asking for advice,” Aemond snarls.
“You do look like you need it,” the blond comments, then goes back to drinking.
She gracefully approaches them, her voice melodic like a murmur of a river. “Forgive me, your grace, for being late, I haven’t seen Ser Criston in some time,” she tells his mother. “He was once a dear friend of mine.”
“I only helped to shush away a few of your admirers,” the knight cackles, earning a smile from her.
“I hope you are making use of all his talents,” she says to the Queen, making her face flush right away.
She delicately moves on to another topic. “It is a pleasure to have you here, you must be tired from taking such a long trip.”
“We found it quite enjoyable,” Quentyn remarks politely. “The beautiful sights along the way are worth the journey, and your city has some great views too.”
“Can’t say I’ve heard great things about your food,” Oberyn grins. “Hence why we took the liberty to bring some of our own,” he signals to the nearest servant, who runs to open one of the trunks they carried. “The dornish fruits are also my sister’s weak spot.”
“As if you don’t gorge yourself on them!” she jests, letting go of Ser Criston’s arm at last. “My brother is a glutton, your grace, please excuse his manners in advance.”
“You can call me Alicent,” his mother corrects her warmly. “Only seems fair to continue this discussion at the table,” she slightly moves away to let the girl go first.
Aemond unintentionally stiffens and only when he stands up from his chair to greet her, she finally does look at him. In contrast to her countenance, her gaze is dark and piercing, and the prince is staggered by how unreadable it is. Her brothers glance at Aemond briefly — Quentyn is pensive, while Oberyn looks like he wants to bite his head off; neither says a word.
She’s seated to his right, and she leaves behind a trail of scent — apples and plums, and he can’t help but catch the movement of her hips under the flowing dress. The words all mash and fall apart, and he can’t pick a single one to strike up a conversation.
Aegon is sitting next to her, and his patience only lasts a minute. “Never knew Ser Criston was such a ladies' man.”
“I’m sure he succeeded on that front but we are merely good friends,” she answers calmly, keeping her eyes on servants bringing fruits — blood oranges and pomegranates, robust grapes, and ripened cherries.
“You two seemed more than friendly,” Aegon presses, his tone evidently taunting.
She picks a golden apricot and runs her thumb over its fragrant surface. “Maybe it’s the wine that makes you see things,” she rebuts and takes a bite out of the fruit, a drop of juice risking to escape her mouth but she wipes it swiftly with her finger. She catches Aemond looking, and his cheeks heat up.
“We’ve never seen him in the company of a woman,” the older prince points out, filling up his cup once more.
She takes out the kernel and eats up the fruit, her mouth glistens. “Aren’t the knights of the Kingsguard forbidden to marry?”
“Never stopped them from bedding whoever they like,” Aegon remarks crudely, and Aemond is thankful that their mother is too preoccupied with Oberyn’s tireless chatting.
“Maybe some men have the decency to follow orders,” she responds, unbothered, taking a cherry and clasping it with her lips. Aegon doesn’t seem to notice and only gulps the wine and rolls his eyes. Aemond can’t look away.
“Aren’t you Martells known for not following the rules? I thought unruly was in your house’s motto,” Aegon argues, a corner of his mouth curled in a smirk.
She takes another cherry, the third in a row, her lips already stained with juice. “I think you keep getting your facts wrong,” she brushes him off, and Aegon goes to object some more but spills the wine right on his shirt. The displeased cry brings Aemond out of his trance.
“He tends to do that when he’s drunk,” the one-eyed prince coolly interjects.
Her eyes flicker to him, then she fully turns her head. “So you can actually talk,” her teasing comes off soft but her gaze still burns. “It’s good to know.”
“You seemed preoccupied with someone else,” he musters an excuse.
“Do you expect your wife to never speak to other men?” her voice almost betrays her disenchantment.
“No,” Aemond quickly answers, caught unawares by how strained his thinking process is. “She— you are free to choose your friends, of course.”
“I’m flattered,” her tone suggesting otherwise, “Not that I would ask for anyone’s approval,” she reaches for a plum; he closes his eye with a sigh.
Aegon comes to stand in between them on the pretext of needing another carafe of wine: “I didn’t mean to interrupt your friendly bickering, please continue.”
“It seems like Aemond isn’t in the mood for talking,” she doesn’t look at him, the tip of her tongue darting to lick her finger. “And I am never in the mood for begging.”
“My brother’s hospitality leaves much to be desired,” Aegon takes a sip. “So I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer,” his hand falls on her chair. “But if you ever wish to be... well satisfied, all you have to do is ask me”.
It’s hard to tell if Aegon’s actually that drunk or merely provoking (or if he’s got a death wish, Aemond wonders).
She replies without much thought. “Well, if I ever find myself in need of...,” she trails off with a smile but her gaze gets harsh — her words then follow, “My choice won’t fall on you,” the smirk falls off Aegon’s face, and she glances straight at Aemond, adding, “I like them taller.”
But her straightforwardness is met with his resistance, with the deep-rooted unacceptance of his lurking needs. He adds “indecent” to the list, and they speak no more.
>>> Her boldness doesn’t pose a problem to anyone but him. To his surprise (or more so to his shock), his mother gives in first.
The morning can’t come fast enough for Aemond after he spends the night tossing and turning. A few hours later he rushes to the garden for a walk, overwhelmed by restlessness his training didn’t help him cope with. That’s when he sees it — a spot of yellow shining through the trees. He somehow knows it’s her without further confirmation but still, his feet carry him on.
Her dress is vivid like a field of marigolds, her hair plaited, wrists adorned with golden bracelets. He slackens pace and peers into her — and he wants nothing more than to drink her up, her whole appearance is the sweetest nectar... Until he hears another sound and realizes she is not alone, and it’s his mother sitting by her side, wrapped in her favorite green and, unexpectedly, in glee. He can’t remember when he saw her laugh like this — out loud, giggling, tears at the corners of her eyes are not from sadness but from joy.
“My dear, that is so improper! Did he apologize at least?” Alicent inquires with a smile.
“Oberyn rarely does,” she tells her serenely. “His lover looked way more ashamed. I hope each of your rooms has locks, gods know I don’t want to walk in on him again.”
Unlike his mother who is covered by the shade of trees, she’s bathing in the sun, the soft light caressing her skin, and Aemond’s eye greedily follows every ray. In barely a minute he feels warm all over.
“I hope that Aemond’s chambers got locks too,” she adds all of a sudden, a bit louder, and his chest is splashed with cold.
His eye moves to her face, and she’s already looking at him, direct and daring. He knows he’s hidden by the trees but there’s no hiding from her gaze.
Aemond turns away and steps back in haste, his abashment mixed with grievance at her implication. He believes someone like her would never lust for him, and her jokes at his expense not only hurt but prompt his resentment to grow stronger. He adds “deceptive” to the portrait of her he is so adamantly set on painting.
>>> She wins Helaena’s heart with ease. His sister fondly compliments her brooch — a little poppy made out of gold — and she gifts it to Helaena the same day. The silver-haired princess grabs at chance to show her own collection, and they spend the day looking through the jewels spread over the floor, sitting right there and equally amused.
And that’s how Aemond finds them. He only planned to see his nephews but hearing her voice coming from Helaena’s chambers makes him slow his step.
“... And this one he gave me for my latest name day,” Helaena babbles cheerfully.
“Aemond clearly spoils you,” she laughs without a shade of envy. “As he should!”
“He is very kind at heart,” Helaena eagerly assures her. “You will be happy with him, I am certain of it.”
There is a pause that makes him feel uneasy, makes him sneak up closer to the room.
“I do believe he’s not an evil man,” she finally says, “Maybe he just wasn’t made for marriage.”
Surely she can’t see him through the door but he can swear that he feels her gaze, like a silent challenge, a hidden mocking. He barges in without a knock.
Helaena beams. “We were just talking about you!”
His sister’s dress is milky blue, modestly pretty, and loosely fitted. It’s also treacherously pale compared to the liquid gold the Martell girl is dressed in. She’s sitting with her feet under her thighs, the bending of her back is bare and in plain sight. He should’ve walked away the second he heard the sound of her voice because not looking at her seems impossible.
“Oh, you came to see the twins? They are with Aegon but I can call— No, I will bring them back myself,” Helaena springs to her feet, rosy-cheeked and smiley, and leaves the room before Aemond can protest. And then it’s just the two of them.
He takes a breath and makes an effort, with his jaw tense and his blood rising, to drag his eye away from her. It feels as pointless as ignoring sunlight in an open field on a summer day. Only her beauty is more brazen — and so is her wit.
“I take it, gold isn’t your favorite color,” she speaks up with an impish tone. “Would be a bad idea to wear it on our wedding then.”
She never comes too close, always just a little out of reach, and yet he feels as if her presence grips him, weakening his will. He doesn’t want to be with her until he is — and then he has no wish to leave.
It scares Aemond as much as it spikes his anger.
“Why did you agree to come?” he bristles.
“You are not asking about your sister’s chambers, are you?” she clarifies, and he hears her smiling.
He tells himself he only needs to cast a glance to check.
He does — he meets her gaze — her earrings catch the sunlight and cast a trail of glares — the scattering of specks play on her skin, her neck and collarbones, sneak to her upper chest — his own is heaving. His struggle only lasts a moment but it leaves him short of breath. He isn’t looking anymore, his eye trying to discern the pattern on the drapes behind her.
“Our marriage, how do you benefit from it?” he hates how hard it is to control his voice.
And how she watches him intently without giving him a clue of what’s on her mind.
“I plan on visiting my family a couple of times a year. It will be easier to do on dragon back,” she doesn’t sound spiteful when she says it but her words still sting.
He can’t stop an image flashing through his mind: her on top of Vhagar, lungs full of air, pressed to him. It’s tempting — to have her in his hands, and yet the vision is too intangible to cling to. Instead, he thinks that in just three days she learned to play him like a harp, his years' worth of self-control is merely a sand castle against the tide of her sharp tongue.
He only snickers dryly at her reply, then they both hear the sound of running footsteps. Jaehaera and Jaehaerys rush to greet him — but almost instantly abandon, the kids' attention drawn to the shining golden dress.
He thinks “unruly” suits her better than does “pompous”. He comes up with a fake excuse to leave; the image of her stays with him.
>>> He picks more adjectives as the week goes on — she’s audacious, disobedient, wanton. She moves around the castle as if she owns every room she’s in. She wears less, and even on rare occasions when she doesn’t, her defiance more than compensates for it. She never shies away from a deep neckline, nor does she feel the need to hold back her resounding laughs. Her jewelry clinks, each of her dresses is brighter than the other, but it’s her wicked mouth his eye always falls on first.
More times than not, Aemond can’t tear his gaze away, each meal for him now both a torture and a feast.
He watches as she parts her lips, puts them around a luscious grape, a cherry, or a peach, she swipes her tongue to lick up every running drop, savoring its tang — and keeps eye contact with him. He barely can taste the food he’s eating, and no wine can quench his thirst, his body flooding with a feeling he can’t define, his heart adrift.
He tries to fight it off with all our strength. He scratches off “unruly” to write down “unabashed” instead.
But then the dinner comes, and even though he’s never had a taste for sweets, he thinks he’d eat them from her lips (deep down, he wants to). The lies he tells himself are brittle like the flesh of fruits under her teeth.
>>> He comes to think “insufferable” fits her the best. That thought rings in his head while he is standing in the stable, his eye on anything but her. He was informed she wished to pick a horse, and he begrudgingly agreed to come, only to keep up the pretense.
What turns out to be much harder is for him to keep restraint. The dress she’s wearing might as well be a chemise — it’s just as light and white, and much to his discomfort, it also tirelessly risks hiking up to expose more of her legs.
Discomfort, mayhaps, isn’t the right word for it.
He stays out of her way but, unsurprisingly, he ends up looking — at how she walks, spring in her step, swinging her hips. She gives each horse a piece of apple and feeds them by hand, strokes their muzzles, and then she mounts and rides them, one by one. She grabs the reins, her foot easily finds the stirrup, and as she swings her leg over the saddle, her dress slips up, showing a few inches of her skin.
He swallows thickly, glances more intently — over her dainty ankles, bending of her knees, he notes how smooth her skin is, soaking up the sun. Her dress then billows slightly, and his eye glides higher, hungry, follows up the contour of her thighs that bounce a little as the horse gallops.
He feels it blooming — a sensation with no name that travels from the lower chest down to his very navel, then spreads and tightens all that’s underneath.
He is so deep in his enthrallment, he doesn’t hear the steps approaching until there’s someone standing next to him. Quentyn stays silent for a minute, throwing him a sideways glance.
“My sister’s always been terribly picky,” the man says out of the blue, “And usually it’s hard to meet all of her demands,” — it doesn’t seem like it’s the horses he is talking of. The vagueness of it makes Aemond focus as he takes his eye off her but Quentyn doesn’t elaborate, giving him a smile instead. “I do admit, your patience is commendable. Some other man would’ve already interfered just to wrap the process up.”
“I was under the impression she doesn’t need anyone’s help,” Aemond replies evasively.
“You guessed it right,” Quentyn titters, his tone veiled with the same unclear meaning when he adds, “The only thing left for us all is to accept it,” and with that, he goes to join his sister.
When Aemond — tamely, almost yielding — takes a peek at her, his gaze collides with Oberyn’s who clearly watched them talk. Unlike his older brother, he prefers to stay away, but the mischief in him pairs really well with danger. He grants Aemond a nod, switching attention back to her, his threats unspoken for the meantime.
For just a second, it gives Aemond pause as he finds it odd that no one brings up their wedding, and no announcements have been made ever since she came. He doesn’t mull over it for long because her laughter interrupts his thoughts (or maybe he just yearns for any chance to look at her). She rides around the yard, her hair floating in the wind, a little breathless but breathtaking, her lips enticing and her curves making his throat dry.
He tries to ground himself, to look for explanations, for some reprieve from the entrancing spell he’s under — he’s never been so close to losing reason —
out of the corner of his eye, he sees a couple of guards dropping their gaze in poor attempts to stop themselves from gawking; it reins his passion, bringing back his jealousy instead. He’s way too used to seeing himself unworthy to even entertain the thought of having her, and his denial prickles. He wants to burn his feelings out, and anger helps with that — it breaks out and engulfs him fast, hardening both his heart and gaze.
“Quentyn is the friendliest of the two, and you couldn’t hold a conversation?” Aegon appears out of nowhere, seemingly displeased despite the bottle in his hand. “Must you always be so gruff? I stayed behind in hopes you’d make it work!” he waves at Oberyn then glares at Aemond, waiting for a reply. “Are you pretending to be deaf or...?”
“Must she test my patience?” Aemond mutters, his tone not jealous but exasperated, his eye boring into her, “Putting herself out like that for all the men to see.”
Aegon being speechless is a rare sight. He cannot fathom it at first, looking from Aemond back to her, confusion sobering him up. And then he grins, realization creeping up on him; there are some things he’s always quick to notice.
“It’s funny that you say that,” he leans in to tell him and catches Aemond’s gaze, “Since it’s just you who’s staring,” Aegon pats him on the back and leaves to greet her brothers.
Aemond tries to choke it down — his irritation and his shame combined, but it’s too much for him to handle, his head and heart clearly in conflict. He doesn’t wait for her to make a choice, retiring without sparing her a glance (a fear nibs at him that if he looks at her once more, he will stay rooted to the ground).
He doesn’t leave his chambers for the remainder of the day, dining all alone and fuming all the same. He’s usually good at curbing his emotions but he is having trouble understanding them, wanting nothing more than to erase all memories of her. But even in his solitude, he catches himself thinking — about her cunning smile and swaying hips, her eyes on him, his hands wanting to roam and touch and —
Aemond shoves unwanted thoughts away and goes to bed earlier than usual. He remains steadfast in his resolve to find some peace, he makes a conscious effort to shift his focus to all the boring, random things his mind can come up with until he is too tired to care.
But then he falls asleep, and his subconscious welcomes her. He sees her right before his eye in that obscenely short white dress, there are no people in the yard, her tantalizing moves all meant for him. She hops off her black horse and walks to him without a single word — anticipation makes him drop his guard and hold his breath — and then he feels her lips on his, her body pressing into him, his hunger for her ruining his self-control, the kiss is searing, suffocating, driving him insane, his fingers pulling up her dress —
he wakes up painfully aroused.
He lays in bed, his heartbeat rushing, his breathing ragged, and vision blurred. While he’s still grasping for the remnants of his dream, he sneaks his hand into his breeches, wishing he could rip her dress off and sheath himself inside her, spread her on his bed, and drink every salacious sound she makes... It only takes him a few strokes to spill over his fingers; he can’t remember if he’s ever reached his peak so fast.
And only then, as he comes down from his high, it hits him, like lightning in the dark — in spite of her remarks, her audacity, her dresses, and every cruel adjective he’s found for her, he’s never wanted anyone so badly. Aemond sits up abruptly, his sleep gone, giving way to stubbornness that comes hand in hand with reticence. He persuades himself that he’ll suppress this — the spark, the pleasure that he craves, and he won’t be a slave to his desires.
He’ll rid himself of feelings, of this lust. Inevitably it will wane.
>>> It doesn’t.
Desire is a guest that never leaves, unwanted but demanding space, attention, time. It slips into his thoughts the moment he wakes up, it whispers in his ears, never giving up, it’s layered in between his clothes and his skin. He hides it well from everyone; it lodges deeper into him.
Desire is a cherry in her mouth, each fruit she bites in, savors, drinks the juice from. He doesn’t want to watch — he can’t take his eye off her, caught in his fervor like in undertow, the flavor of her lips the only one he truly yearns for.
Desire bruises more than does a hit, cuts deeper than a blade, and there’s no weapon he can fight it off with. His training brings him no relief, and he can’t sweat it out or wash it off him, and even while he soaking in a bath, it feels like longing only rises back with steam.
Desire waits for him at night, stands by his bed, slides right under the covers with him. He dreams of her, and in those dreams, her body sings under his every touch, trembles from his praise, his hands and mouth paint her with marks and kisses. He wakes up with his chest aflame and out of breath, and then it takes all of his willpower not to crawl to her.
It staggering how much he really wants her, and he hates himself for it.
>>> It’s been three weeks and they have barely shared a word. He does his best to cut down their encounters and avoid her, he doesn’t argue and takes no offense, he hopes that if he pulls back just enough she will give up and let him be.
Aemond spends his evenings in the study, his table piled with books, and for a couple of hours, it does help to take his mind off things. The night already steals in while he’s searching through the shelves for scrolls, too caught up in the process to pick up the creaking of his door.
Her gaze nearly scalds him. He only looks up out of surprise — and then he freezes at the spot, his heart a stone that plummets to his stomach.
Out of everything she’s worn, this dress might be the one to bring him to his knees — the cutting out the front so low, his eye falls in the hollow between her breasts; he envies fervently the golden chain that rests there. He takes in her whole body, bare arms, and flaunting forms, all clad in deep dark green. He’s never seen her pick that color (and he can’t help but think she put it on for him).
He’s brought back from his stupor when their eyes meet — and startled by the determination in her gaze.
“Ser Criston told me that you missed your training,” she stately starts walking toward him, “Quite a few times this week.”
“I found myself preoccupied with other things,” he clears his throat and clasps his hands behind his back, the scrolls forgotten.
“With reading, I assume?” she almost sounds aggrieved (he wants to ask what else she’d rather have him do) but then her tone gets jaunty. “Would you mind if I join?”
“Actually, I would,” Aemond takes his eye off her, his coldness feigned. “I’d like to avoid distractions.”
And more than anything, he would like for her to leave; she’s not the one to give up so easily. “Maybe we can learn some things together?” she nonchalantly insists, and that ambiguity — deliberate or not — leaves his face suffused with pink.
“I highly doubt you take interest in the things I study,” he manages, his crudeness biting his own tongue.
She only sneers, already nearing his table. “You surely rush to judgment.”
“And I am never wrong.” (Although he’s been wrong once before.)
“That’s very humble of you.” (And she’s tenacious with her intent to prove him wrong again.)
“I am surprised you know that word,” he replies too hastily — and instantly regrets his outburst.
And his attempts to get away from her could’ve been valiant, but only left him feeling like a coward.
She’s got enough courage to spare. “Oh, my apologies, did I strike a nerve?” her hip grazes a stack of books. “You sound so displeased with my behavior,” she puts her hands right on his table, her cleavage in full view.
“You interrupted my studies,” he’s looking only at her face.
“Just this one time,” she clears up, her sly smile is a dare, “Sounds like you have quite a few complaints.”
Damned be her dress and the day he laid his eye on her. “It’s clear as day that we have nothing in common,” he hisses, her persistence molding his anger. “From your bawdy humor to your reckless behavior and your...,” he struggles to push the word through his mouth, “vulgar dresses — everything suggests that we will never make a good couple.”
He catches a gleam in her gaze but it’s not threatening nor hurt — and when the corners of her mouth curl up, her face expression actually looks amused. “I didn’t realize my presence tormented you that much,” she crosses arms over her chest, her hands under her breasts; he looks away that very instant. “So will it please you if I take my vulgar dresses and go back home and leave you be?”
He wants to say it will — he’s thought of it for days — but now he isn’t sure. The dreams he has of her will hardly be enough as every image he collected has got nothing on the real form.
“Is there anything that does?” she asks him suddenly and takes a step in his direction, and then another one.
Belatedly, he realizes that he’s backed against the wall. The air in the room heats up, and Aemond moves back to his table, fingers holding to its edge to find some balance. “...Does what?”
“Please you,” she swiftly clarifies, now standing at arm’s length.
“That isn’t any of your concern,” he wants to glance away and yet, his eye is drawn to her.
“I am inclined to disagree,” her lips stretch into a smile. “Shouldn’t a wife know how to make her husband feel good?”
“We are not married yet,” he tries to argue weakly.
“I’d like to learn beforehand,” but her assertiveness works quicker than his doubts.
The time is still, and seconds drag like hours. His heart leaps at the thought of being all alone with her, his concentration crumbling, his self-restraint already hanging by a thread.
“The way you look at me suggests you aren’t averse to the idea,” she tells him in a low voice, her eyes two glowing embers. Aemond gulps, she deftly rounds the table. “You act so cold and so collected,” she muses, coming closer, and he helplessly steps back. “But I am yet to meet a man who would deny himself the pleasure of laying with a woman,” her voice is warm and warming; his legs bump into the chair, prompting him to sit.
He hesitates for barely a moment but his quick reaction fails him because the next thing he knows, she’s standing next to him, her golden chain casting a blinding glint — he blinks — and then she’s straddling him, her thighs on either side of his.
Aemond’s mouth falls slack as he becomes aware: to lift her he will have to touch her. He glances down at her legs that sneaked out through the long slits of her dress, all bare to the very hips before him.
“I wonder if you are too spoiled by the attention of the ladies? Mayhaps you’ve got so satiated, the intimacy doesn’t bring you any joy,” she runs her fingers up his chest.
He only finds it in himself to shake his head. She isn’t satisfied with that reaction. “Or do you simply find it boring and have a taste for something else?”
Objection bubbles in his throat but he gets no chance to voice it — he barely registers a clinking sound before he feels cold steel pressed under his chin, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of his own dagger. He meant to leave it at the training yard but it completely slipped his mind.
“Does this work better? I’ve heard that you Targaryens have peculiar tastes,” her other hand lands on his shoulder, his chest is stirring with emotions he can’t read.
“That’s not— No,” he mumbles, his voice raw, the weight and feeling of her body overwhelming.
She cocks her brow at him in disbelief. “No? So it’s just plain old satiation then?” she makes no attempt to press the blade but her questions do get pushy. “Must be so hard when women throw themselves at you ever since you were... What was it, ten? Twelve years of age?”
He would expect her to sound teasing — instead, he hears disappointment. That’s the reaction he is used to getting.
“My brother took me to a pleasure house when I was ten-and-three. He said it’s time to get it wet,” he forces out, “And it was...,” awful and humiliating, something he wishes to forget, “...Not what you are describing.”
Her face expression changes — first surprised, then splashed with sadness, and her every feature softens. Aemond sees her opening her mouth to speak but he averts his gaze, abasement scrabbling at him. His eye falls closed, and he keeps thinking that now she will get up and leave, and there won’t be any wedding, and he’s got no reason to get so overly upset already, and —
she sheathes his dagger without a word, the unexpected movement making him breathe out.
And then she dips her head down, and her lips fall on his jaw. Aemond inhales sharply. Her mouth feels softer than it was in all his dreams, and she plants kisses down his throat, moving to the part of it the blade was pressed to. He doesn’t know where to put his hands while hers lock nimbly around his neck.
She pulls back slowly, and he dares to look at her again, trying to catch the merest shadow of pretense but there is none.
“I am truly sorry that you had to go through that,” she tells him quietly. “Have you tried some more since then?”
“I did,” his answer comes off hurried, blank, “I... I am aware of how the act is done.”
“How the act is done? Aemond, that doesn’t sound enjoyable at all,” she pouts, then gently caresses his face, her voice a tender whisper when she adds, “But it should be.”
He stiffens, waiting for the discomfort to wake up, for the aversion to coil his guts, to trigger the jarring need to move away. None of that happens. Instead, he feels her fingers running through his hair, a calming motion bringing only comfort, her every touch relieving tightness in his chest.
“You seem too tense... We have to work on that,” she joyfully murmurs. “Unless, of course, my worry causes you distress,” her fingers stop, “Do you want me to leave, my prince?”
“No,” he rasps, he almost pleads, “D-don’t.”
She hums with satisfaction, bringing her hands down to unclasp his leather doublet, knowing she won’t meet any resistance. He should resent her for this but he doesn’t (he didn’t and he won’t). The air lays cold over his shirt, and Aemond shivers; she moves her fingers down his firm chest with an unspoken admiration.
“Tell me how it usually goes,” she inquires, one of her hands finding its way back to his silver locks. “Do you find pleasure in undressing them?”
Her warmth envelopes him, scented with cinnamon and peaches. “They come without much clothes,” Aemond blurts out, earning another hum from her.
“And what about you?” she glances curiously at him.
“I don’t... I don’t like them touching me,” he timidly avows, and saying it to her does bring somewhat of a relief.
With both of her hands, she cradles his face, thumbs gently contouring his cheeks — he all but melts into her palms. “And yet you are so responsive to the touch,” her voice praises, “So pretty.”
She leans in again, leaving a kiss at the hollow of his throat — and then her mouth travels up, ardent and steady, and he squirms in place. Not out of discomfort.
“You are not supposed to rush it if you want it to feel good,” she whispers in his ear and moves back to catch his gaze. “You never rush into fighting so why love making should be any different?”
Astonishment brightens his face, and she chuckles lightly. “I must confess, I did enjoy watching you train, even though you never noticed. The way you move and twirl your sword,” she’s recollecting breathy, “You are so lithe and fast and so resistant... An infatuating sight.”
She holds his gaze and lifts her hand — he follows it, unblinking, until it finds one of the straps — she hooks it with her fingers. “Fairly soon it made me wonder how would your hands feel... on me,” his heart jolts at her words.
Slowly, she moves the strap aside, baring her breast for him; Aemond’s breathing hitches. She takes his hand in hers, planting a kiss over his knuckles — and then lets his fingers graze her naked skin.
“It was so cruel of you to rob me of my pleasure,” she laments, but he can barely hear a thing, his eye wide as he fixes on the soft swell of her breast, on how her nipple peaks so eagerly under his touch.
She guides his hand over her chest, down to her ribs and waist, letting him brush her every curve, placing his fingers firmly on her hip. And then she reaches for his other hand and lowers the other strap; his body trembles. The layers of his reticence are all peeled at once, leaving his desire raw and undisguised, unshackled. He’s drawn to fondle, clutch at her plump breasts but her grip is tight and taunting, not letting his fingers roam free.
Still, when both his hands sink into her hips, he realizes that he’s getting harder by the second.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by her. With a controlled, torturously slow move she drags her clothed core over his straining cock. His mouth stays closed but there’s a sound — a muffled moan caught in his throat.
“Doesn’t this feel good?” she teases, lightly tugging on his hair, her lips reaching the column of his neck. “With how much you read, I hoped you’d be more generous with words,” each of her kisses weightless like a drop of rain but then her mouth finds a spot below his ear and suckles at it, pulling a whimper from his chest.
He thinks he should... his mind goes blank after another movement of her hips, and she picks up the pace, merciless and sensuous. He tries biting down his moans but only hurts his mouth. She notices, her rapt eyes on him, and puts her finger on his lower lip:
“Please, don’t be shy with me,” she coos, her gentle touch soothing his bitten flesh, “Our desires coincide,” she earnestly affirms him — and the spark erupts and drags him into pure bliss.
He feels that his arousal leaks, his breeches way too tight to hide it, his fingers dig into her supple skin, but she gives no complaints. He watches breathlessly through his hooded eyelid as she grinds against him, then looks over her bouncing breasts, her nipples pebbled, and the pressure curls somewhere down his spine. She peppers him with kisses — the angles of his face, neck, everything that she can reach, except for his desirous mouth. And yet the softness of her lips and hands, her skin that’s draped with the redolent scent, the rhythm of her hips all bring him closer to the edge.
Her forehead is pressed to his, their lips an inch away but never fully touching. “Let go for me,” she says against his mouth, “My handsome, fierce dragon.”
That does it for him. He harshly presses her to him, then shudders with a strangled moan and comes undone, his eye squeezed shut as her name quivers in his mouth. The pleasure whirls him in and leaves him drained and stunned, a little bit light-headed.
It takes Aemond a minute to recover before he finds her gaze again — and in another minute he discerns her shallow breaths, her parted lips, brows slightly furrowed. He wants to ask her if she reached her peak, if he can help her with it —
but she pulls back.
She stands up and only briefly grabs his shoulder, steadying herself, then promptly puts the straps back on, fixing her dress. He wants to lend a hand but she moves it away, leaning in to lightly caress his face. “No, you don’t get to have me yet. I want you to admit it first, to say that you want me,” her words are laced with dignity but cooling to his mind.
She steps back, cruelly fast, the only consolation is her naughty tone. “Until then, I have to satisfy myself some other way. But I will think of you while doing it, my dear prince,” she promises, a ghost of a smile on her lips, and then walks out without looking back.
The silence feels unwelcome in the room and hangs over the ceiling like a cloud, but Aemond he is too dazed to move, spent and perplexed to wrap his head around it.
Desire, it seems, has come to stay.
But it’s not the only thing he’s feeling.
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✧... YES, there will be a second part, it’s already in the works! ✧ and yes, I didn’t bother to rename Pedro’s character 'cause I adore Oberyn sue me
✧ just to clarify, I usually age Aemond up to 20 (or however old Ewan looks to you ;) ✧ I got inspired after watching the video for ROSALÍA’s “La Fama” (give it a watch, she is soooo 🥵) but I only found it because of this gorgeous gifset so shout-out to OP for giving me inspiration
✧ my recent fic (couples who kill together, stay together 🔥) ✧ my masterlist
thank you @amiraisgoingthruit for letting me tag you in every silly story of mine, hope you’ll like this one (if anyone else wants to be tagged, don’t be shy)
English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!
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