‎ ˗ˏˋ TWIRL KISS ´ˎ˗ — R. Cameron X Reader

Can you please do driver reader is literally the absolute Angel of the paddock and everyone adores her, she’s the cutest sweetest little bean that you can’t help but love, she’s a Redbull driver and Christian always fawns over her and talks about his ‘daughter’ ( it’s clear she’s the favourite ). Even the older drivers love her e.g kimi, jenson, Seb, mark. Platonic pleaseeee

Omg, that is such a sweet idea. I did the format a bit differently, hope you don't mind.

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

The Redbull Princess

YN YLN was a known name in the motor sport world. Not only was she the youngest driver currently on the grid - only 19 years - but she is the first female to ever drive for RedBull. Not oy that, but also the only woman on the grid.

Despite having a different gender, the other drivers never treated her bad. In fact, one could say that YN got the whole "Princess Treatment" from the drivers and teams. Each driver has taken a special place in her life.

Exhibit A: The protective one

The paddock was buzzing with energy, reporters swarming like bees near the Red Bull garage. YN was prepping for her media rounds, already feeling the weight of the spotlight on her. As she stepped into the press pen, a group of journalists immediately approached, firing off questions.

"YN, how do you feel about the pressure of being the youngest driver? Do you think it affects your performance?"

Before she could answer, Max appeared out of nowhere, slipping between her and the reporters with a grin that was anything but friendly. "I think that's enough for now," Max said, his blue eyes narrowing. "She’s got a race to focus on. Back off."

The reporters, visibly intimidated by the reigning World Champion, quickly shuffled away. YN let out a breath of relief, nudging Max with her elbow.

"You know, I can handle them."

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd. "Yeah, but why would I let them bother you when I can have fun scaring them off?"

"You're impossible," she laughed. "But thanks."

Exhibit B: The gossip King

YN walked into the Ferrari garage, still buzzing from practice. She found Charles leaning against his car, drinking water. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Charlie! Did you see that move I pulled in turn 9?" she said, excitedly plopping down next to him.

Charles grinned, instantly slipping into gossip mode. "I did! Smooth as butter. But did you hear about Fernando's radio message? He was furious about the tire degradation. Drama!"

YN's eyes widened. "No way! Spill all the tea, Leclerc."

Charles leaned in, whispering. "Apparently, his engineer told him to manage his tires better, and Nando snapped, saying, ‘I am managing them!’" He mimicked Fernando’s accent, making YN burst into laughter.

Exhibit C: The helping hand

The young RedBull driver just exited her car, when she felt someone grabbing her Birking Bag. When she quickly turned her head, she was meat with the sight of Carlos not only caring her bag in his hands and her coat on his arm, but carring his own stuff as well.

"Carlito, what are you doing? You don’t have to carry all my stuff for me." she told him, after they started walking towards the entrance.

Carlos mate an irritated sound, before responding to her. "Nonsense, hermana. Your job is to win this weekend. So let me help you with all the other things, comprende?"

Before Carlos could get an answer, she threw her arms around him, whispering a small thank you in his ear.

Exhibit D: The personal chef

YN sat in the Red Bull hospitality area, poking at her plate of food with a discontented look. Yuki walked over, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.

"Not good enough for you, huh?" Yuki teased, sliding into the seat across from her.

YN scrunched up her nose. "I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t eat this."

Without missing a beat, Yuki stood up. "I’ll make you something. What do you want?"

Her eyes brightened. "Yuki, really? You don’t have to!"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, you’re picky. I know that. What do you want? Miso soup? Onigiri?"

YN tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Onigiri sounds perfect."

Within minutes, Yuki was back, placing a plate of freshly made onigiri in front of her. YN took a bite and sighed contentedly. "You're the best, Yuki."

He grinned. "I know."

Exhibit E: The "annoying" prankster

YN was busy trying to make sure her helmet and gear were ready when suddenly, her entire backpack fell off the counter with a loud thud, spilling everything.

"Lando!" she yelled, spinning around, catching the British driver grinning like a mischievous child.

"What?" Lando said, feigning innocence, hands up. "It slipped."

YN gave him a look but couldn’t help the smile creeping on her face. Lando always knew how to lift her spirits, even if it was through relentless pranks.

"One day, Norris, one day!" she warned, pointing a finger at him.

"I’ll be waiting," Lando chuckled, before helping her pick up her things

Exhibit F: The shoulder to cry on

"I just can't believe it. I was so close. How did I manage to bin the car into the wall on the last corner" muttered the 19 year old. Her face pressed in Oscars neck, who was busy stroking her hair. He knew better than to interrupt her during her rant. Knowing it would help her when she got everything of her chest.

After a moment, she shakily breathed out. Oscar knew that the only thing he could do now was to let her fall apart while he would catch every piece of her.

And that's what he did. While she cried her heart out, Oscar held her close to him, rocking them slowly in a soothing matter. It felt like nothing could happen to her in Oscars arms. He would protect her from the outside world as long as she needed

Sometimes actions speak louder than words

Exhabit G: The fashionista

Lewis stood beside YN, eyeing her racing suit critically before smirking. "That’s not gonna work."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

He pointed at her boots. "Those shoes? No way. They don’t match the rest of the suit."

YN raised an eyebrow. "I'm not trying to walk the runway, Lewis. I’m racing."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "You can do both. Come on, let’s get you a new pair of shoes. You’ll thank me later."

And true to his words, YN received a new pair of racing shoes only a few hours later. They certainly looked better than her old pair.

Exhibit H: The mother-hen

George was hovering near the buffet in the paddock, watching YN closely as she piled food onto her plate. He narrowed his eyes as she bypassed the salad section.

"YN, you need to eat more greens. And have you had any water today?" George asked, his tone dangerously close to motherly.

YN groaned. "George, I’m fine. I had water this morning."

"That’s not enough," he replied sternly, filling a glass and handing it to her. "Drink. Now."

She pouted but took the glass. "Okay, Mom."

Exhibit I: The proud dad

During a press conference, Christian Horner stood beside YN, smiling at the reporters. "You all know my daughter here is the star of the show," he said, gesturing towards YN.

YN blushed at the comment. "Christian!"

The reporters laughed, but YN knew Christian wasn’t entirely joking. He had taken her under his wing from day one, treating her like family. And she couldn’t have been more grateful.

Exhibit J: Bwoah

In a rare quiet moment, YN had somehow convinced Kimi Räikkönen — the Iceman himself — to do a TikTok trend with her. As the camera rolled, Kimi deadpanned his way through the trend, barely moving but somehow nailing it.

"Thanks for doing this, Kimi," YN said, grinning as they finished.

Kimi shrugged. "Bwoah, don’t mention it, kid. But don’t tell the other drivers that you are my favourite"

YN laughed. "Deal."

౨ 𝐅𝟏 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐓𝐎... ৎ ᯓᡣ𐭩

max verstappen is the type to remember anything you have said to him, from you favorite type of flower to your favorite memory of your childhood.

charles leclerc is the type to always ask for five more minutes in bed, you warn him that he’s going to be late but he just tightens his arms around you.

oscar piastri is the type to lay his head on your laps when you’re reading a book and simply ask to you read out so he can listen — will melt if you scratch his hair too.

lewis hamilton is the type to do that 'hand thing' yk? you’re walking behind him so he just extends his hand without looking for you to hold.

carlos sainz jr is the type to tuck your hair behind your ears if it gets in your face, it’s such a smooth movement that you often don’t even notice it.

lando norris is the type to be always taking pictures of you out of nowhere. “you look beautiful”, literally treats you like his muse.

yuki tsunoda is the type to cooks for you — he LOVES seeing your eyes shine every time you try the food and love even more when you shower him with kisses telling him what a great boyfriend he is.

george russell is the type to grab you hand and put in his pocket if it’s cold outside.

Hey there! Hope you're having a good day! If you don't mind, could I please request non-native english speakers (alejandro, rudy, makarov, konig, and any other ones you want) reactions to their s/o surprising them by reciting their wedding vows in their native language? Alejandro's s/o saying her vows in spanish, makarov's s/o saying them in russian, etc. Thanks so much!

this is a really good idea! thx for suggesting it <3

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Saying Your Vows In Their Native Language

𑣲 Alejandro, Rudy, Makarov, König, Horangi, Nikto

𑣿 Alejandro would have dropped to his knees and asked you to marry him if you weren't already getting married. He had heard you speak a few words in Spanish here and there but never full on confidently speaking it from your heart. He wanted to embrace you, but knew you'd lose your concentration and he really wanted to hear everything you had to say. So he tried his best to hold back, and just smile as he gazed at you lovingly. The man couldn't find what to do with himself, he was already head over heels, anymore and he might have been considered a madman. The things love made him do, such fiery passion within him that with the smallest of your actions could make him act as if unbridled. After you finished, he glanced at the audience, looking at them as if wanting them to see the type of person he was marrying. He wanted to show you off to the world, and he truly felt like he triumphed that day as he placed the ring on your finger.

𑣿 Rudy got lost in your eyes, hearing you speak Spanish. It made it all so much more meaningful that you had gone as far as to not only learn his language but to recite the words from memory. Halfway through, he just couldn't help but to reach out and cup your cheek, and you had use all your inner strength to not choke up and start crying uncontrollably from how much you loved this man. The onlookers in the crowd were moved as well, most using tissues to dab their eyes. It was a beautiful moment and luckily enough, it was caught on camera too. This moment made Rudy wonder what he had done to deserve you, surely you'd break the man with your gestures of affections, and this was only the beginning. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, vowing to make you feel the same.

𑣿 Makarov is not usually a sentimental man, he rarely lets emotion take the greater charge of decision within his mind, especially in front of others. It was only in the utmost secrecy that he had met and loved you, and it was that way he had learned to keep things to a minimal. He didn't require effort from you, because he was always seeking to do more for you. He never imagined something that seemed insignificant to others, but knowing how much effort you had put in, would move him so much. In his heart, he had resigned to feel as little as possible, yet, you had somehow found and tugged at the still tender heartstrings. He felt it blossoming in his chest, the flower that you had so gingerly tended to, cared for with your amour and time. It was hard for him to keep his composure, but so ardently did he feel a flame burn in his chest. Who could have known he'd feel this one day?

𑣿 König faltered, thinking he had misheard your words. You weren't speaking German, were you? He hardly believed it, and couldn't get over it that he didn't really listen to the meaning of your words. If asked, he couldn't remember exactly what you had said, he could only tell of the emotions he'd felt in that moment, some that he couldn't even identify. His heart raced and he simply looked at you in awe, with soft hints of adoration in his eyes. He would hold this memory dearly, just as much as he wanted to hold you. You looked angelic in your wedding attire, like a blessing he cradled in his hands, one he vowed to never forget to care for. Oh and when you smiled at him after concluding, he could have melted from seeing your eyes flicker up at him. He loved how you talked to him, looked at him, touched him, kissed him and he'd spend an eternity wanting to make you feel the same way about him and even then never feel like it was enough.

𑣿 Horangi had certainly not expected it. You never gave an indication of you studying Korean, you had been interested in the language but the grammar had quickly discouraged you from advancing and he assumed you had left it at that. Unbeknownst to him, you had even hired a teacher to help you get through the difficult parts of writing your vows. You wanted to show how much he meant to you, you worked on it day and night and didn't stop until you were satisfied with how it sounded. You knew exactly what to say that would touch his heart and mean the most to him. Horangi couldn't have imagined a more perfect moment than this one. Those words permanently marked in his mind for the rest of his life, forever hearing you speak in his tongue. He wished to be alone with you, none of the others there deserved to be there to hear words that were only meant for him.

𑣿 Nikto had no problem with the fact that you didn't speak Russian, he understood English well and was able to communicate just fine. He had caught you studying Russian a few times, trying your best to pronounce the words to form sentences, and he had only smirked, amused at your attempts. When you explained that it was because you wanted to be able to communicate better, to be able to tell him in his mother tongue how much you loved him, he only laughed it off. He thought it was silly, he understood your feelings and intentions just fine in English. But he was unprepared to hear how fluently the words rolled off your tongue at the altar. Nikto had underestimated how impactful it would feel to hear you talk to him in a language he knew so well. Just hearing you speak in Russian was already hitting him in his soft spot, not imagine when he got over his initial shock and actually tried hard to listen to what you were trying to say.

WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE.

pairing. Pedro Pascal x younger! fem! reader

synopsis. you and Pedro do the we listen and we don’t judge trend.

warnings. mention of age gap (late 20s/late 40s), short fic.

babs’ notes. guys ik this trend isn’t trend anymore but i just had to write it

EVEN THOUGH YOU DIDN’T WANT TO ADMIT IT, you were a chronically online person. You weren’t particularly proud of it, but the constant stream of trends on TikTok was enough to keep you entertained for hours.

You loved to post mini vlogs and grwms videos on TikTok. It was fun to do, and the bonus money it brought in was a welcome perk. The creative process of filming, editing, and sharing snippets of your life with the world brought you a sense of joy and fulfillment.

On the other hand, Pedro was content with simply posting stories on Instagram. Being an older man, his Instagram was a bit chaotic, yet endearingly so. He mostly posted pictures with you, capturing beautiful moments and showcasing your love and adventures together.

So when you saw the TikTok trend We Listen and We Don’t Judge, where partners share little, harmless secrets, you just knew you had to do it with Pedro.

To your surprise, it didn’t take much to convince him; he was always up for these kinds of fun. What took longer was explaining the trend to him, but somehow, you managed to get through it.

You pressed record, and both of you said in unison, “We Listen and we don’t judge.” You couldn't help but notice Pedro's adorable expression on the phone screen; he looked so happy to be there.

“Okay, I’ll start,” you said, turning to look at your boyfriend. You took a moment to think of what to say first. “I can hear you when you’re singing in the shower, and it sounds terrible,” you said, trying hard to hold back your laughter.

Pedro narrowed his eyes at you, a mix of mock indignation and amusement crossing his face. Deep down, he knew there was a bit of truth in your words. “We listen and we don’t judge,” you both repeated in sync, and now it was his turn.

Pedro took a deep breath and grinned. “When we first met, I thought you are a bit of brat,” he admitted.

Your mouth dropped open in shock. You hadn’t expected him to be that blunt. But, as the trend dictated, you couldn’t judge. You managed to keep your expression neutral, despite your surprise.

Pedro chuckled, noticing your reaction. “I know, it sounds horrible, but that’s what I thought at first,” he said, his tone softer.

You ignored him with an eye roll, “We listen and we don’t judge.”

“Sometimes you get me so upset when you forget something,” you confessed, scanning his expression on the phone screen. “But I always remind myself you’re just an old man,” you chuckled, looking at him.

Pedro took this secret well and just shrugged. “That was obvious, I am an old man,” he said with a smile.

“We listen and we don’t judge,”

Pedro's eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned in closer to the camera. “Your Spanish is bad... like really bad,” he said with a smile, clearly enjoying the playful banter. It really sounded like he came just for the hate, but you smiled, ready to dish it back.

“Well, your French isn’t good either,” you retorted, raising an eyebrow.

“We listen and we don’t judge,”

“I hate when you fart and blame it on me,” you said, the words barely escaping your mouth before you both burst into laughter. Pedro's eyes widened in shock, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

“Jesus Christ Y/n, you can’t say shit like that to people,” Pedro exclaimed with laugh, trying to calm himself down. He had expected many things, but not this.

Your laughter was infectious, and Pedro couldn't help but join in, his body shaking with mirth. “Well, it's true!” you said, still giggling. “You do it all the time.”

Pedro wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. “Alright, alright. But we listen and we don’t judge, remember?”

You both repeated, “We listen and we don’t judge,” in unison, still grinning from ear to ear.

"When I was filming Gladiator, some lady asked me if you're my daughter," Pedro chuckled, referring to your age difference. The memory seemed to amuse him greatly, and the twinkle in his eyes made it clear he found the situation hilarious.

You gave him a knowing stare. "We listen and we don't judge," you said, the words almost automatic now.

"I love when you wear glasses, it turns me on so bad," you said with a smirk, your voice dropping a notch. It was a bold confession, one that you knew would get a rise out of him. You couldn't help but think about your PR manager, already dreading the phone call you'd probably get after posting this video.

Pedro's smirk matched yours, his eyes filled with a mix of confidence and affection. "Knew that," he said confidently, his gaze locking with yours. His playful tone, combined with the way he looked at you, sent a shiver down your spine.

Of course, you did have to cut out some parts because Pedro could be a dirty bastard and truly had no filter. His unfiltered remarks were hilarious but perhaps a bit too much for the fans and especially your PR managers.

Carlos | December 8, 2024 / Abu Dhabi GP 2024 © Ferrari.com

IM SO UPSET /j

I wanted to just make a silly video like ‘haha guys look wrestling is sooo gay’ but this has turned out to unironically be the best thing I’ve ever made and I’m so upset about it /j

TAGS: @outsiderswolfpac

Thinking about a kimi x fem! Driver! Reader who is basically the female version of Sebastian, where the fic is kimi and the reader doing a challenge for Ferraris channel, the reader being a bit of a know it all, and kimi just not caring

You can choose if it’s romantic or platonic:) thank you!

FERRARI AND CHINESE FOOD

pairing: (kimi raikkonen x ferrari driver! reader)

summary: ferrari has a sunshine driver and an iceman driver partake in a challenge for their youtube channel. thankfully, the sun can melt ice.

note: its 1am sorry i have no comprehensive thoughts this is a bit bad but have it anyways i am proud i made this with less than 5 hours of sleep. okay enjoy anon!!!!

content warning: my grammar at 1am

“Another one,” Kimi groans, throwing himself onto the couch in his room.

“Oh come on it’s not that bad,” you say with a grin, closing the door behind the both of you so no one could come in. You’re sure if Kimi had to talk to another person from the media he might explode. “Besides, this next one is the last one for today.”

“For today,” he emphasizes, groaning into a throw pillow once more. You’d both been doing media duties for Ferrari all day, and while it was tiring, you would say some of them had been fun and enjoyable. Although, evidently not for your teammate.

“Cheer up Kimi, it’ll be over soon,” you smile, sitting on the edge of the couch where he was laying down. You sigh, knowing the one thing that would get him to cooperate. “Dinner will be on me after.”

That grabs his attention, slightly pulling himself up and looking at you. “You mean that?”

“God you’re like a child I have to bribe,” you tease, yet with no malice. “Yes, I mean that.” You loved spending time with Kimi, and whenever there were media duties you both always had food afterwards. It was like a reward of sorts.

“Where d’ya wanna go?” Kimi mumbles, laying down on his side and resting his head on his hand. He was staring straight at you, waiting for a response. You think he looked pretty like this.

Smiling at him, you take your hand and run it through his hair softly, unable to help yourself. You would never normally do this, but you barely got moments alone during media week. Kimi grumbles but doesn’t stop you, you knew he always secretly liked it. “I dunno, what’re you up for?”

“Mmm…” he nuzzles into your hand a bit more, “Maybe chinese. I would enjoy some dumplings right now.”

“We can get Chinese then.”

Before you could have another moment of peace, however, a PR agent walked in the room to remind you that your next shoot was in ten minutes. You quickly pulled your hand away and Kimi sat up hastily, trying to fix up his hair. You give the agent an awkward thumbs up, hoping he got the message to leave.

“Okay, you’re right, this incessant filming is a bit tiring,” you say the second the door closes.

“Told you,” he simply replies. You pout in return, slumping your form beside him. He thought you looked so cute like this. Holding your cheek, he kisses your forehead, your nose, then your mouth, making you scrunch up your face. He chuckles, at least he made you feel a bit better.

“I should probably get ready for the shoot. You good here?” You ask, getting up from the couch. Kimi hums a yes, but doesn’t let go of your hand. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, Kimi, but you will have to let go of my hand so I can get to my room.”

He looks at you with puppy eyes for a second before reluctantly letting go, deciding to lay back down on the couch.

“You’re not gonna get ready?”

Kimi shakes his head, eyes already closed ready for a five minute nap. You scoff softly at him, before heading for the door. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he mumbles. Kimi was not a man of many words by any means, but he would always utter those back to you. Smiling to yourself, you shut the door and get ready for the shoot.

“So this is how the challenge goes: you have to compete with each other on who knows your fellow drivers and each other the best, and of course, most points win. You’ll write your answers on a whiteboard so there’ll be no cheating.” The interviewer behind the camera explains. You nod, giving her a signal that you were ready for them to start filming. Kimi sat beside you on a couch, his face not showing any emotions whatsoever. Looks like you would be doing the heavy lifting on this shoot today.

They snap the check in front of the camera, and the interviewer asks the first question. “Starting with something simple, who on the grid has the most wins?”

“Oh, easy.” you mumble, writing your answer down on your board. Kimi wrote his answer in silence, not talking even when he finished.

“Done?”

You nod, both you and Kimi showing your boards. Lewis Hamilton.

“Easy enough, next question! Who was Y/N’s idol growing up?”

“Aha! You should know this, I told you about it before!” you exclaim, poking Kimi. He grunts, “Not fair, she knows her own idol of course.”

“Sorry, the question wasn’t finished. For Y/N, who was Kimi's idol growing up?” The girl adds.

Oh. Your smile drops as you look to the man beside you who, for the first time in any of the shoots you did today, showed emotion by grinning wickedly at you. “You should get this, I told you about it before,” he teases, echoing your own words. You think for a second before writing down a guess of an answer.

“Time’s up! Can you both please show your boards.”

You reveal yours first, the words Ayrton Senna scribbled down on it. Looking at the man beside you for confirmation, he shakes his head.

“Awh no way! Who’s your idol then?”

Kimi shrugs his shoulders, not answering your question. He didn’t even give Ferrari an answer for that one. He looks at his own empty board for a second before jotting down an answer he’s sure is wrong, but he’s also sure as hell is funny.

Turning his board around, you see Kimi Raikkonen written down with a smiley face beside it. You snigger loudly before replying, “Sure it is bud. In your dreams, maybe.”

“Unfortunately, that is incorrect, Kimi.” The interviewer calls out.

“Go figure,” he mumbles wryly, making you grin even wider.

“No, his answer is correct.” You joke, trying to tease him even more. He gives you a look but you simply keep your sly grin. He decides to drop it, after all he at least made you smile. That in itself deserves a point.

The questions went on for a while, before they got to the harder ones. “Okay, amping it up a notch, who won the 1985 World Championship?”

“Woah, that escalated quickly,” you exclaim, pausing to think for a second.

So far the score was 4-1 for you and Kimi respectively, as he really wasn’t trying at all. You’re pretty sure he could’ve gotten the question about what year Fernando Alonso came into F1 right if he cared. Jotting your answer down to the current question, you see Kimi from your peripheral vision trying to take a peek of your board.

“Hey!” you smack him lightly with your board, “Cheater.”

He smirks, trying to block your second hit. “Wasn’t cheating.”

You continue writing your answer but this time hiding it from Kimi, keeping it as close to your chest as possible. He looks at you for a second as if planning something before going back to write on his own board. Well– he pretends to write something, but you can see him just drawing a star in the corner of his board.

“What’re you planning?” You mumble. Kimi simply shrugs his shoulders, but you can see the slight grin playing on his lips. Locking in your answer, you feel the couch shift slightly to your left. Kimi inched a little closer without you sensing it. He notices your side eye and realizes it’s now or never, and tries to tackle you to see your board.

You shriek, attempting to hide your board from him by sliding down the sofa, to no avail. Your reaction was too slow and he was already on your side of the couch. You were giggling helplessly at this point, unable to contain your joy. Opening your eyes that you didn’t notice you closed, you’re met with a large smile, your teammate proud of himself.

“Get off of me Raikkonen!” You exclaim, using his last name for emphasis. You try to shove him off but he stays solid slightly on top of you, still pretending to try and take a peek of your board. You knew he didn’t give a damn about those answers anymore.

“Say please,” he mutters, still smirking. You truly didn’t know what had gotten into him.

“Please get off of me, you bastard.”

In truth Kimi didn’t want to, he enjoyed seeing your face scrunch up under him with a laugh. He had forgotten about the cameras a long time ago– they weren’t important to him. He just liked seeing you smile. Still, he knew the faster they finished this challenge the faster he could get some alone time with you.

He finally concedes and moves back to his spot on the couch, fixing his hair and going back to writing his answer as if nothing happened. You sit up straight, fix your shirt, and do the same. The crew looked confused, feeling like they saw something that they shouldn’t have. You didn’t care, though. If anyone asked you would just say what you always did, that physical touch was your love language with friends. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, except for the fact that Kimi wasn’t just a friend.

The interviewer clears her throat before speaking up again, “Okay– uh– answers?”

“Prost, of course.” You answer with a smile. You loved studying the history of Formula One. Even though you couldn’t see, Kimi gave you the softest look he has in a while. He loved how you genuinely lit up whenever something you liked came up.

“And you, Kimi?” The interviewer asks, making the man snap out of his moment of adoration.

Kimi flips his board, a Lewis Hamilton written on it. The interviewer shakes her head but continues, “I’m sure that’s a gag answer b—”

“Is it?” Kimi butts in.

“I’m sorry?”

“Is it a gag answer?”

You shove Kimi softly on his side, “Don’t mess with her like that!”

He chuckles, before raising his hands in defeat. “Whatever you say.”

The rest of the game moves pretty quick, save for a quick argument between you and Kimi on what Sebastian’s favorite track was. As you both leave the set, you give Kimi a sneaky grin. “Bold move earlier.”

“Hmm?”

“Doing all that tackling in front of the camera. I thought you were the one who said we should be discreet. You definitely gave Ferrari a lot of bonus content. I’m sure they’ll cut it out though.”

“Ehh,” Kimi shrugs, not replying for a good while as you both walk out the Ferrari building and out into the night streets. You knew he was trying to find the right words, trying to figure out how to articulate his thoughts. It was part of the reason why he didn’t like talking so much.

Once outside he wraps his arms around you, a sign that he was finally back in the present and ready to talk. “I just wanted people to know, you know?”

“Know what? That you have a quarterback tackle?”

He chuckles at the recent memory before replying, “No, that I love you.”

You blush, hoping Kimi didn’t see it. He did. You carry on your conversation, “And how exactly did you plan to convey that message when they don’t even know we’re in a relationship?”

“Hey, Sebastian knows.” He argues.

“Seb hardly counts, he practically forced his way into figuring it out.”

Kimi shakes his head, his arms still around you. “And he walked into a room at the wrong time.”

His comment makes you laugh, a soft smile on your face as you turn to face him. “I love you, you know that?”

“Mhm. Love you too. Even if I don’t say it much.”

Your grin grows even larger, leaning up to kiss him. “You don’t have to say, I know.” He kissed you back, and he could feel your smile as he did. He thinks it’s crazy that he’s hidden such a blessing from the world. How you ever loved someone like him, he didn’t know, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Pulling away, he gives you a smile that only you get to see. The softest in the world, looking at you as if you were the world. He breaks eye contact to hold your hand, headed towards the chinese restaurant down the road. “Okay, now dumplings.”

Habits they break for you.

Bruce: His worst habit is the fact that he's utterly and completely unable to stop working for longer than 4 hours. And that's only because that's how long he sleeps each time. Learning to put down a file or let one of his kids handle something kills him at first, but for you, he learns.

Dick: His worst habit is his sleep. It's obscure. Unlike most of his family, who at the very least have some set pattern, he can never fall asleep at the same time two nights in a row. He'll go to sleep at 3 am one night, 6 am the next, sometimes pull an all nighter altogether. Learning to set his alarm and actually get up at the same time each day is frustrating as hell, but it's worth it if you're actually there when he wakes up instead of already at work.

Jason: His worst habit is smoking. Well, really it's the self destructive nature he embodies so well. But second to that, it's how many packs of cigarettes he goes through a week. You hate it. It gets to the point you cough when he tries to hug you. So, despite the withdrawal of it, he quits. And he thinks you don't even notice, at first. But you do. You hold him tighter, kiss him more often, and get to breathe him in without the smell making you wrinkle your nose.

Hiii, first of if I just want to say that I absolutely love your stories. Secondly could you perhaps write a bit more about Dark! Charles and Alex x Reader like maybe Reader had a child or something like that only if you’re comfortable with that of course

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl

Attention: this is just a story! Nothing what is happening here, is happening in real life.

Part 1 Part 2

Obsession

Yn’s days had fallen into an odd rhythm, one she never thought would define her life. From the moment Charles and Alexandra had taken her, she had slowly adjusted to her new reality, though not willingly. Their twisted love and obsessive protectiveness were suffocating. And now, with her baby boy, Theo, in the picture, their fixation had only grown.

She tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, even under their constant watch. Like today, she insisted on taking Theo for a walk. Alexandra, as usual, trailed behind her, her presence an unyielding shadow.

---

Yn pushed the stroller along the serene pathway, breathing in the crisp air. It was one of those rare moments of peace where she felt almost human again.

"Enjoying the fresh air, mon amour?" Alexandra's voice was a sultry purr, her heels clicking against the cobblestone path as she sauntered closer. Yn didn’t answer, pretending to focus on Theo instead.

"Don’t ignore me," Alexandra warned, her tone firm but laced with amusement. She reached out and placed a possessive hand on Yn’s hip before sliding it down to her butt. Yn flinched but tried to stay calm for Theo’s sake.

“Do you have to be so handsy all the time?” Yn snapped, unable to contain her frustration.

Alexandra smirked and spun Yn around to face her, ignoring the protest. She leaned in, brushing her lips against Yn’s ear as she whispered, "Of course I do. You're mine, Yn. Ours."

Before Yn could respond, Alexandra’s hand moved to her stomach, caressing it with an unsettling reverence. Her eyes lit up with an obsessive glow.

"You’ve already given us one perfect little boy," Alexandra murmured, her gaze shifting briefly to Theo, who was babbling happily in the stroller. "But I think it’s time for another. Don’t you agree?"

Yn froze, her heart pounding in her chest. "What are you talking about?"

Alexandra tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Oh, you know exactly what I mean." She leaned in further, capturing Yn’s lips in a firm, possessive kiss. Yn tried to pull away, but Alexandra held her firmly in place, her hands gripping Yn’s waist as if she would never let go.

When Alexandra finally pulled back, she pressed her forehead against Yn’s, her voice soft but filled with determination. "Another baby, Yn. You’re going to give us another baby."

---

By the time they returned home, Yn’s nerves were frazzled. Theo had fallen asleep, his tiny fists curled against his chest, blissfully unaware of the tension between the adults.

As soon as they stepped inside, Charles appeared, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Yn and Theo. "There’s my family," he said warmly, his French accent thick. He approached Yn, his gaze lingering on her with an intensity that always made her uneasy.

“Charles,” Yn greeted stiffly, trying to sidestep him, but he was quicker. He caught her by the waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter.

“Charles, what are you doing?” she protested, but he ignored her, stepping between her legs and holding her hips firmly.

“You look beautiful, mon amour,” he said, his voice low as his hands slid to her waist. He leaned in, kissing her neck, then her jawline, and finally her lips. Unlike Alexandra’s kiss earlier, Charles’ was gentler but no less possessive.

“Stop,” Yn muttered against his lips, trying to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

“You’ve already given me the most wonderful gift,” Charles murmured, his hand moving to her stomach. “Theo is perfect. But I can’t help wanting more.” He pressed his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. “I want another baby, Yn. I want to see you glowing with life again.”

Yn shook her head, panic rising in her chest. “Charles, I can’t… I won’t—”

“Shhh,” he interrupted, kissing her again, his hands gripping her waist. “We’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

---

Dinner was a quiet affair, but the tension was palpable. Alexandra and Charles exchanged looks across the table, their shared obsession evident. Yn ate in silence, her appetite diminished by their earlier declarations.

After Theo was tucked in for the night, Yn tried to retreat to her room, hoping for a moment of solitude. But she didn’t make it far.

“Going somewhere, mon amour?” Alexandra’s voice stopped her in her tracks. Yn turned to find both Alexandra and Charles standing there, their expressions a mix of adoration and hunger.

“I’m tired,” Yn said quickly, but neither of them seemed to care. Alexandra closed the distance between them first, cupping Yn’s face in her hands and kissing her deeply.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Alexandra whispered against her lips, her hands sliding down Yn’s body.

Charles joined them, pulling Yn close from behind. His hands rested on her hips as he pressed kisses to her neck. “We’re not done with you yet,” he murmured, his voice filled with promise.

Yn felt trapped between them, their touches overwhelming. Alexandra’s fingers traced her stomach again, while Charles’ hands roamed her waist.

“You’re ours, Yn,” Alexandra said softly, her lips brushing against Yn’s ear. “And we want to grow our family. Don’t we, Charles?”

“Absolutely,” Charles agreed, turning Yn to face him. He kissed her deeply, his hands anchoring her in place. “Another baby, Yn. It’s all we want.”

They didn’t give her a chance to protest, their kisses and touches silencing her words. Yn’s mind raced, torn between fear and the strange, inescapable pull of their obsessive love.

She knew one thing for sure: escape wasn’t an option. Not when Charles and Alexandra had made it clear—they would never let her go.

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