SLEEPY DAYS ꪆৎ CS55

★ how does f1 drivers react when you call them pretty. . .

norris, piastri, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russell, verstappen

cw: fluff, slight suggestive (verstappen), f!reader.

now playing: pretty boy by the neighborhood

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✹ lando norris

lando would be the type to act annoyed but absolutely loves it. he just won't admit it but you know it.

"hey, pretty boy", you whisper against his lips, leaving a sweet peck on it just to be met with a pouty and flustered lando. "i told you to stop calling me that!" he whines, but deep down he hopes that you'll never stop. you look at him with a playful smile, softly caressing his hair. "okay, i'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable", you wait impatiently for his reaction and as you excepted, lando start to panic. "i mean... you can but you know... just not in front of other people", he laughs nervously, hoping that his excuse is good and his cheeks start heating up. you can't help but laugh softly, pulling him close by the neck and lando pouts again, "stop making fun of me!", your smile softens and you plant another kiss on his lips, "sorry, you're just too cute, my pretty boy". lando's cheeks are now completely red and he tries to hide it by pulling you in a long and warm kiss, feeling the butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

✹ oscar piastri

oh my god, please don't do this to him. as soon as he hears the word, his brain starts malfunctioning.

"you did so good!", oscar pulls you for a warm hug, holding you as tight as he can. he loves seeing you after races and hearing how proud you are of him no matter what he do. you pull out, staring at him like his eyes holds stars and oscar can't help but feel overwhelmed by all the adoration he sees in your eyes. you put your hand on his cheek, stroking it softly. "i'm so proud of you, my pretty boy" and even though you mean it, a hint of teasing can be heard and oscar groans, pulling you in a new hug to hide his face in your neck "if you call me that again, i think i'm gonna die" he mumbles against your skin. you laughs, one of your hands slides in his messy curls, your fingers playing with it. you will never get over how cute your boyfriend is when you call him pretty.

✹ charles leclerc

he absolutely loves it and won't deny it, even if he gets a bit shy when you call him pretty. he can't control it, his heart gets warm and the butterflies in his stomach goes crazy.

you were getting ready for a cute date and charles was wearing a new shirt, with flowers on it. as soon as he's ready, you lock your arms around his neck and you look at him with a big smile on your face. after planting a sweet peck on his lips, one of your hands cup his cheek. "you're so pretty, baby", your voice is full of adoration and honesty and charles' smiles gets wider. "thank you, chérie", he says softly and he immediately pulls you for a gentle kiss, hoping that you didn't notice the way his cheeks has redden, but you didn't miss it.

✹ carlos sainz

he loves it, like really loves it. he finds it funny tbh. and he won't hesitate to give the word back to you.

"woah, what a pretty boy", you look at him showing you his brand new haircut. he laughs, posing in front of you a little more before joining you on the sofa, pulling you on his lap and placing a kiss on your nose. "got pretty for my pretty girl, we are such a pretty couple", you both giggles before sharing a kiss, laughing and smiling against each other's lips. but, even if he doesn't want to admit it, carlos can feel his heart beating a bit faster and a sweet feeling in his stomach when he hears you call him pretty.

✹ lewis hamilton

he would get so shy, make it seems like he doesn't like it and it annoys him but he can't hide it for long, he always ends up with a big smile on his face and a heart beating faster than it should.

"ahhh, stop it y/n", he whines as you continue to leave kisses all over his face, sitting on his lap. "but, you're so pretty!", you say, cupping his cheeks to look at him in the eyes. he groans, acting annoyed by pulling you out of his lap and you try your best to fight the smile creeping on your lips. you both know that he's just flustered and wants to hide his red cheeks. "come on, baby, let me finish my kisses", he doesn't fight you when you climb back on his lap but he crosses his arms, trying to hold onto his character and you laugh softly, going back to leaving small pecks all over his face. it doesn't take long before he finally smiles, his hands finding your waist to pull you close and kiss you back. he just can't resist you.

✹ george russell

he always tries to ignore the way it makes him feel and act unbothered but he can't fight the way his body warm and a smile instinctively forms on his lips. he just loves getting praised by you.

"baby, can you pass me the knife, please?" you ask, preparing the vegetables and george, who has been helping and watching you cook for an hour now, hand you the knife as fast as he can. you turn to face him, placing your free hand on his neck to pull him close, "thank you, pretty boy", you says softly and he places a kiss on your lips, smiling softly "you're welcome" he says, trying to sound as neutral as he can and you pout, acting disappointed, "what? you don't like when i call you that?", you know that he do. you just want to hear it. he looks at you, a playful smile forms on his lips. "i know what you're doing", he chuckles and pulls you for another kiss. you end up both laughing, george's heart feeling full.

✹ max verstappen

he gets all nervous and doesn't know how to act anymore. like, if you want to make a mess of this man, just call him pretty.

max have been acting flirty all day, enjoying teasing you and seeing you all flustered in front of other people. you tried your best to keep your cool all day, playfully punching him from time to time or just laughing it off. but when you two end up alone at the end of the day, you're finally able to get your revenge. you start making out, getting more and more touchy and needy. "take off your shirt, pretty boy", you whisper in his ear, and max almost startle. a playful smile forms on your lips and you don't even have to look at him to know that his cheeks are now red. after a good minute of no reaction from him, you finally meet his eyes, giving him a confused look. "is everything okay?", you try to hide your teasing tone but max doesn't miss it, a playful grin finally forming on his lips and he chuckles; "naughty girl".

______________________________________________

I AHVE AN IDEA!!!

1v1-ing joao in soccer 😭

friendly competition ₊˚⊹⋆

pairing: joao x reader w/c: 454

a/n: this idea AAAA anon i love you i hope u enjoy thiss <33 - i just know he's the most competitive boyfriend ever no matter how soft he tries to be ...

"You suck at this, you know," Joao laughed as he watched you scramble to retrieve the ball, after missing yet another one of his passes.

"Shut up!" You huff, picking up the ball and throwing it at his chest as hard as you can - trying not to think about how attractive it is that he bumps it and has it at his feet almost immediately. "Who cares if I'm bad at football, one of us has to be the pretty one in this relationship."

The two of you were stood in his backyard, each manning your own tiny make-shift goal like your life depended on it. When your boyfriend challenged you to a one-on-one football match you had figured it wouldn't be anything more than a light-hearted cute activity. Almost half an hour later, you were starting to doubt this.

Your legs were starting to hurt, and the feeling of a thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead was something you'd rather not deal with right now. Still, the competitive fire in your belly kept you on your feet, in a fruitless attempt to keep up with the football skills of your boyfriend - the professional footballer.

"Next goal wins, alright?" Joao said, kicking the ball from one of his feet to another before gently passing it to you. You sigh again, your patience running thin - at least until an idea sprung into your head.

Trying your best to dribble the ball towards your boyfriend's goal, your movements were rough and crude in comparison to the smooth and elegant ones he had shown you earlier, a smirk growing on your face regardless. Your boyfriend stood his ground with his hands on his hips, watching you with a smile on his face that was equal parts proud and amused. Just as you dribbled up to him though, he made an attempt to defend against you, stepping in to block your path. Expecting this, you waited until he darted up to you before pulling him into a kiss - one he wasn't expecting but also clearly wasn't opposed to as you physically felt his guard let down.

You laughed against his lips before pulling away, taking advantage of his semi-dazed state to kick past him and shoot into his goal. Squealing in happiness you turned around to him to see his betrayed expression, and a part of you almost felt bad for pulling such a low trick on him.

"Looks like I win," you giggled anyway, and he only offered a weak smirk in response, "Thanks to my secret weapon."

"Next time I'll be sure to borrow it from you," he laughed, picking the ball up in one arm and slipping the other around your waist.

good riddance era forever <333

— midnights like this ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: none pairings: husband! percy jackson x wife! reader a/n: prue writes an irrelevant blurb instead of finishing the 20 sitting in her drafts? yep sounds like her! 😊

no… yes… no… yes… no

no. it wasn’t fair that just because percy couldn’t sleep that means that you shouldn’t be able to sleep either. though, you were his wife, you should share struggles with him. but he was utterly bored. but you looked so peaceful. your lips slightly parted, breathing in and out slowly, your features delicate as you softly slept, your hair disoriented yet you still managed to look like a goddess. percy switched his position to be laying on his side, turning his full attention to your sleeping self. maybe he should just wake you…

no! he stops those thoughts quickly. but you always said if he couldn’t sleep to feel free to wake you up, but then in the morning you would be tired and he would feel guilty. this is surely a conundrum he’s in. he sighs and watches, hoping just his gaze will be enough to wake you from your slumber (it’s not). okay, next attempt. firstly, he pecks your nose, trailing to each of your pink cheeks, to your forehead and back to your nose once more. you still lay sleeping

it’s fine, he totally didn’t want to wake you anyways

but he so wants you to!! maybe if he uses his telepathic-married couple senses you’ll open your eyes. he closes his own tightly and wishes for you to wake up on your own will. he doesn’t open them until he feels you begin to stir, then his eyes widen and meet yours— fluttering open slowly. in a golden retriever like manner he squeals like a child and wraps you up in his arms tightly, three quarters asleep, you let him do so

“what’re you doing?” you murmur quietly

“I couldn’t sleep, I think I’ve been up for an hour now? I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, I used my telepathic powers and you woke up! isn’t that great?”

“… yeah” you’re too sleepy to care or respond properly. percy can’t find it in himself to care about your lack of response, he was just happy you had woke

“are you going back to sleep?”

you shake your head. “you woke me up, idiot”

“sorry about that” he laughs (he’s so not!!)

you sit up, now wide awake thanks to your husband. “now what were you saying about telepathy?”

https://www.tumblr.com/t1red-twilight/750536961595506689/soft-peter-headcannons

may i have a full length version of the shower headcanon? 🤲 pls pls pls 🧎

suds

summary: as requested, the soft shower fic:)

content/warnings: gn!reader. andrew!peter, fluff, non-sexual nudity, you have hair and you’re a little short (sorry if you’re bald and tall, my bad queen)

notes: this was my first request. ily anon<3

word count: 0.9k

masterlist

you were lounging on the couch after you had come home from work. the day hadn’t been too overwhelming, but you still felt tired. just as your eyes had started drooping, you heard peter thunk onto the fire escape. you swung your legs onto the hardwood floor and padded over to the bedroom.

just as you were entering, peter was pulling off his mask. thankfully, he wasn’t injured (visibly, at least).

“how was patrol? anything interesting happen?” you walked over to him and helped him out of his suit.

the both of you had settled into a few routines. you had just moved in together, so these patterns were one way that you both got used to being together more often. they were comforting.

one of these routines was the one that occurred after peter came back from patrol.

he smiled at you and turned to face you. “no, nothing really happened. i got a cat out of a tree around eight, though.”

“really? was it a tabby?” you replied after you brushed some hair out of his face. you took note of the smile in his eyes.

he had stripped down to his undergarments by this point. “yes, actually. mr. pickles is a very sweet cat.” he stepped closer to you. the soft rumble of his voice provided comfort, and made you feel tender.

“you gonna get in the shower?”

“what, do i stink?” he played up fake disappointment.

you chuckled at his pseudo-pout. “not really, i was just wondering.”

“yeah, i think i will.” he hesitated after this, lingering in front of you. he stayed, looking into your eyes. you had an idea of what he wanted, but you wanted to hear him say it.

after you raised your eyebrows, he cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. “do you want to join me?”

this was another thing that you two had gotten into a habit of doing: taking showers together. it wasn’t a sexual thing, more like a thing that you two had started doing just to feel closer.

“of course, pete. i’d love to.” the playfulness had dissipated from your tone and face. now all that remained was a soft expression of adoration.

you followed peter into the bathroom, where he rid himself of the rest of his garments. he didn’t stare you down as you rid yourself of yours; he merely looked at your face through the bathroom mirror.

he moved to turn the shower on. the apartment that you shared had one of those two-in-one shower baths.

once the water got warm enough, he pulled back the curtain and got in. with one hand he held back the curtain and the other was held out to help you into the shower.

the temperature was perfect: mildly scalding.

the first thing that you did was soak your hair under the water. peter tugged you into him after you had completed the task.

this was peter’s favorite aspect of your shared showers. he would sit and hold you for several prolonged minutes. obviously, you had no problem with this.

the warm water splashed over the both of you as he held you snugly close to him. your arms were around his shoulders, and his around the upper part of your torso under your arms, his head on top of yours.

he traced shapes and words that you couldn’t make out into your back with his thumbs. the feeling the warm water and the steam in the air provided a cozy atmosphere.

and, as per usual, you both stood like this for a couple of minutes. every now and then, he would mumble something into your hair and you would respond.

eventually you pulled apart to do the shower part of showering. he reached behind you and grabbed the shampoo.

as you rehearsed the motions of cleaning yourselves, you made light conversation.

“let me wash your hair, please.” after some lighthearted protestation, you let him. in turn, you washed his hair for him as well.

since you had moved in, you had converted him from 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner for something nicer that would actually help his hair.

when it came to the body wash, he gently lathered the soap onto his hands and ran them across your body. “turn, please.”

one specific benefit of these showers was that he could get the parts of your back that you could never reach. when you turned back around, he gave you a small kiss. “my turn,” he said with a small grin on his face.

my god, was he endearing.

the thing about peter was that he was ticklish, but he would never admit it. as you were ribbed the citrus scented body wash on him, he tried to suppress laughter.

“you are so ticklish, peter.” you said through a smile.

“i am not.” his protestations, always in vain, never stood. he would always laugh, even silently, when you would wash him. and, even occasionally when you would cuddle on the couch or in bed.

“if you say so, loverboy.” you mimicked his actions from earlier and gave him a kiss. you did one final rinse and you stretched to turn off the water from behind him.

he grabbed the towels from just outside the shower before the two of you got out, as to not wet the tile and make it slick.

the towels you had invested in had a high thread count, but had embroidered initials on them that didn’t match either of yours. you both had thought that that was the funniest thing and bought them as soon as you saw them.

he bumped his damp forehead against yours before asking, “you want to watch a movie?”

honeymoon ౨ৎ

♡: a look into the everyday of being charles leclerc’s lover.

notes: charles leclerc/reader, smau, established relationship.

face claim: none (pictures from pinterest)

a/n: this is just a little comfort piece whilst I work on some requests & get ready ahead of my summer vacation <3 inspired by my frequent daydreams about whoever my future husband will be and princess treatment.

liked by charlesleclerc, franciscagomes and 139,865 others

yourusername: summers with you 🌸

1,968 comments

charlesleclerc: bisou, mon cœur 🤍

yourusername: i love youu

charlesleclerc: i love you more

charlottedipietro: pretty angelll

user1: oh to be sunbathing in southern france

user2: charles always knows exactly what flowers to get for you, I swear

yourusername shared on stories:

user1 on dm: sooo cute 🥺

user1: endless flower bouquets, dinner & romantic boat rides? oh to be y/n

user2: when is it my turn?

user3: he is absolutely in love with her

liked by charlesleclerc and 535,895 others

yourusername: 🍨🦢

3,561 comments

user1: lush

user2: y/n is an iced coffee girl like all of us

charlottedipietro: 🤍

pierregasly: sharing dessert & cutlery is fun until one of you is actually ill

user3: not pierre trying to ruin the romantic moment

yourusername: then we’ll be ill together

liked by charlesleclerc

liked by yourusername, arthurleclerc and 1,353,369 others

charlesleclerc: another podium and my favourite person to celebrate it with 🤍

3,985 comments

yourusername: I’m so proud of you 🫶🏼 I love you

charlesleclerc: I love you more

user1: my literal parents

user2: so so deserved, well done!

user3: proud of you charles

pierregasly: perfect method to celebrate your first!

arthurleclerc: i’ve been reminding him of this all day

liked by charlesleclerc

user4: what does this mean exactly???

user5: first what?

liked by charlesleclerc, lilyzneimer and 631,559 others

yourusername: one year <3

1,989 comments

user1: excuse me?

user2: you can’t just do this to us

franciscagomes: the loveliest 🫶🏼

user3: congratulations???

charlesleclerc: l'amour de ma vie 🤍

yourusername: i love you i love you i love you

user4: you two make me cry

user5: one day it will be my turn

user6: okay so when are you dropping the wedding photos?

a/n: just a little romantic piece whilst I was looking through pinterest & manifesting my dream love life ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

© missydior

percy jackson headcannons!!

pairing: percy jackson x reader

tw: mentions of sex, no actual smut tho

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

- he absolutely LOVES kissing you. like it’s an addiction at this point. your lips are just so soft he can’t help it :(

- he gets jealous but i feel like he wouldn’t act on it, especially not in public. he’d just get all mopey and pout until you noticed.

- he definitely makes dirty jokes. he’ll say those jokes with the biggest grin on his face too

- but the second you flirt back? he’s putty in your hands

- tries to show off his strength around you, especially if you’re watching him spar

- he loves seeing you in anything blue (especially if it’s a dress/skirt)

- he gets lonely in his cabin sometimes, so you basically just live there too

- he LOVES intimacy in the shower.

- he worries about you all the time, especially during the war

- definitely took you to meet his mom early on in the relationship (she loves you almost more than him tho so it’s fine)

♯ PRACTICE MAKES IT BETTER ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! struggling with the local slang, you feel out of place until you meet theodore nott, the silent slytherin (based off this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2.3k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, kissing + lmk !

NOTES! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

AMERICA WAS VIBRANT AND DIVERSE. The music scene was thriving with genres like grunge, hip-hop, and pop dominating the airwaves. To you, it was a place of contrasts and boundless possibilities. It was a land where towering skyscrapers stood next to historic buildings, and where you could find everything from bustling cities to quiet, open countryside. The diversity was striking; every state feels like its own little world, with different cultures, foods, and ways of life. It was a country where you could experience all four seasons, with hot summers, cold winters, and vibrant springs and autumns. The sheer size and variety made it feel like there was always something new to explore, whether it was a national park, a music festival, or just a quirky little town.

Then you moved to England.

Leaving behind the familiar sights and sounds of America, you stepped into a new world of magic and centuries-old traditions.

The first thing you noticed was the climate change. England's weather was full of frequent rain and cloudy skies. You had to get used to bringing an umbrella everywhere with you.

Hogwarts in Scotland was completely different from Ilvermorny, which resided on Mount Greylock. The towering buildings of the castle intimidated you a bit as you were used to the more modern school, but you were excited for the change of scenery.

The stone corridors, moving staircases, and enchanted portraits had captivated your imagination. The castle itself was full of new discoveries. Sure, you missed your old friends dearly, every one of them, but the owls worked hard and you managed to make new friends here.

As an exchange student from America, walking the hallowed halls of Hogwarts was a totally new experience. The ancient castle with its sprawling grounds, enchanted staircases, and hidden passageways was like stepping into a dream. But it wasn't just the magical environment that threw you off balance; it was the British slang that seemed to pop up in every conversation.

During your first week, you found yourself constantly bewildered by the new expressions. At breakfast, when a cheerful Hufflepuff asked if you wanted a "banger" with your eggs, you hesitated, unsure if it was an insult or a menu item. When a Ravenclaw mentioned being "knackered" after a long night of studying, you had to suppress a laugh, thinking it sounded more like a sound effect from a comic book than an expression of exhaustion.

The confusion was endless: "snogging" instead of kissing, "knickers" instead of underwear, "blimey" instead of a simple exclamation of surprise. You did your best to keep up, but the nuances of the language often left you feeling like you were missing the punchline of a joke. To put it simply, you were lost.

One afternoon, you were sitting in the library, poring over a stack of books for a Transfiguration assignment, when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Ciao, piccola," Theodore Nott drawled, sliding into the seat across from yours. His presence was effortlessly welcomed, with his cool demeanor and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was a strange boy at first, never letting anyone, but when you warmed up to him, he was a totally new person.

"Hi, Theo," you greeted him with a smile playing on your lips. Theodore had been one of the first students to approach you, his Italian heritage a surprising connection. He often teased you in his native language, enjoying the way you fumbled with the unfamiliar phrases. A nuisance, that he was.

"Come va la tua giornata?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ("How's your day doing?")

Already hearing this phrase a few times, you learned to understand its translation. With a sigh, you ran a hand through your hair. "It's been . . . interesting. I'm still trying to understand half of what everyone says here."

Theo chuckled, the sound rich and warm to your ears. "British slang getting to you?"

"You could say that," you admitted, leaning back in your chair as you watched his amusement at your misery. "I feel like I need a translator just for conversations."

"Well, if you think British slang is confusing, wait until I teach you some Italian slang," Theo smirked at the idea that appeared on his mind. "It's a whole different level."

Now this got your attention. "Teach me, then. It can't be that difficult from the British slang."

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott became your informal language tutor. He started with simple phrases, weaving them into everyday conversations until you began to pick them up naturally. He taught you how to greet someone with "Ciao, amico!" instead of a formal "Buongiorno," and how to say "Andiamo!" when you were ready to go.

One rainy afternoon, as you sat together in the Great Hall, Theo decided to test your knowledge. The rain tapped persistently against the high, arched windows, casting a muted gray light across the large hall. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the sky outside, swirling with dark clouds and flashes of lightning that illuminated the space completely. Despite the dreary weather, the Great Hall buzzed with the soft hum of student conversations, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the rustling of pages.

Theo, seated across from you at the Slytherin table, leaned back casually, a mischievous glint in his eye. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, framing his sharp features. You had grown accustomed to his teasing, the way he delighted in challenging you with phrases in Italian, watching with amusement as you thought through the unfamiliar language. Today was no different, his eyes scanning the hall as if seeking inspiration for his next test.

You had been in the midst of revising for an upcoming Charms exam, your notes spread out around you in a chaotic array of parchment and textbooks. The soft light from the floating candles above cast a warm glow on the pages, making the ink shimmer slightly. As Theo's gaze returned to you, you knew another one of his lessons was coming.

"What would you say if you were really tired?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Theo's questions were always a blend of practical and playful, designed to push you just a little further each time. He spoke with the ease of someone completely comfortable in his skin, his words flowing like the rain outside, steady and sure. His Italian phrases, though foreign at first, began to weave themselves into the mind of your understanding.

Your responses grew more confident, the hesitation in your voice diminishing with each passing day. You found yourself thinking in Italian at times, the language slipping into your thoughts as naturally as your own. Theo's delight was evident, his eyes lighting up whenever you got something right, his praise sincere and heartfelt.

The rain outside showed no signs of letting up, but within the Great Hall, a warmth lingered.

You thought for a moment, then confidently replied, "Sono stanca morta." The phrase rolled off your tongue more smoothly than before, each syllable a small victory in your journey to master his native language. The meaning — "I'm dead tired" — was all too familiar after long days filled with classes and studying.

Theo laughed, the sound rich and genuine, echoing softly in the near-empty Great Hall. His laughter was like a reward, a confirmation that you were getting it right. Silver eyes sparkled with approval, the corners of his lips curling into a smile that made your heart flutter. The warmth of his reaction was comforting against the dreary, rain-soaked afternoon outside.

"Well done!" His voice was filled with genuine pride and delight, making you feel accomplished. His praise was never out of place; it was always heartfelt.

Your heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy. Learning Italian was not just about understanding a new language, but also about bridging the gap between your worlds. Each phrase, each word, was a step closer to understanding Theo better, and a way to connect on a deeper level.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours, waiting for your next move. "And if you wanted to compliment someone on a job well done?" His question was another gentle challenge, pushing you to dig deeper into your newfound vocabulary.

"Bravo!" you answered without hesitation. The word felt natural, a perfect fit for the context. As you spoke, you couldn't help but smile, the simple word carrying a world of meaning and mutual respect. Seeing the approval in Theo's eyes, you felt a surge of confidence.

Theo's smile broadened, and his expression softened with pride and admiration. The approval in his eyes was more than just about your grasp of the language; it was about your willingness to immerse yourself in something new, to share a part of his heritage, to make an effort to connect.

The atmosphere around you felt lighter, the earlier tension of the day's studies dissolving into a shared moment of triumph and connection. The Great Hall, with its towering windows and ancient stone walls, seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little world of language and laughter.

The candles above flickered gently, casting a warm glow that danced across Theo's features, highlighting the pride in his eyes.

One day, as you walked together by the Black Lake, the cold water reflecting the moody sky, Theo turned to you, his expression thoughtful. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees that lined the shore, their branches swaying rhythmically as if in silent conversation. The scene was picturesque, the expanse of the lake stretching out before you, a serene contrast to the bustling life within the castle walls. It was quiet out here, and you liked this spot.

"You know, you've picked up Italian slang faster than I expected," Theo remarked, his voice carrying a hint of admiration and surprise. His thoughtful tone blended seamlessly with the natural sounds around you, creating a moment of perfect harmony.

You laughed, the sound bright and carefree, echoing across the still waters. Nudging him playfully, you replied, "Maybe I had a good teacher." The playful banter was a reflection of the easy camaraderie that had developed between you, a testament to the countless hours spent learning and laughing together.

Theo's smile softened at your words, a tender expression that seemed to light up his face. His gaze lingered on you, the depth of his affection and pride evident in his eyes. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, each shared glance made your knees tremble. Like you were the only girl at Hogwarts.

"Maybe," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a warmth that enveloped you. "Or maybe you just have a knack for languages." His words were a gentle compliment, a recognition of your efforts and abilities.

The path around the Black Lake was peaceful, the occasional ripple disturbing the otherwise mirror-like surface of the water. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp earth. As you walked side by side, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, the rest of the universe fading into the background.

Your footsteps synchronized, a silent dance of familiarity and comfort. The conversations flowed effortlessly, alternating between Italian lessons and shared dreams, each word weaving a tapestry of understanding and companionship. Theo's presence was a constant, steady and reassuring, his thoughtful insights and quiet encouragements a source of strength.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The twilight hues painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, a breathtaking sight that added to the magic of the moment. Theo's silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun was a picture of serenity and quiet strength, a reminder of the stability he brought into your life.

Before you could fully process what was happening, the Slytherin boy took a small step closer, closing the distance between you. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, his proximity sending a gentle thrill through your body. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours, the touch sending a spark of electricity up your arm.

In that moment, with the golden light of dusk casting a magical glow around you, Theo leaned in. His movements were deliberate, filled with a tender hesitation. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of pure, unadulterated connection.

The kiss was gentle at first, a soft press of lips that spoke everything you needed to know. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the gentle caress of his hand against your cheek — it all combined to create a sensation that was both exhilarating and deeply comforting.

Theo's hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. The kiss deepened, becoming more confident, more insistent. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The connection between you intensified, the kiss becoming a language of its own, expressing everything words couldn't.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. The world slowly came back into focus, the sounds of nature reasserting themselves around you. Theo's eyes, still holding that mix of affection and awe, met yours. A soft, contented smile played on his lips.

"Grazie, Theo," you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude.

"For what?" he asked confused, his brow furrowing slightly.

"For being patient with me. For this. For . . . everything."

Theo's eyes softened, and he reached out, intertwining your fingers in one. "No worries," he replied, his voice just as soft. "I'm glad I could help."

a hug from you ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x afab!reader

warnings: reader dealing with period pain, long-distance relationship, mostly fluff [1022 words]

request: heyyy could you do "you look like you could use a hug" + "it will be better in the morning" from the 💗 list? with oscar piastri please!

The heating pad was pressed against your abdomen, the warmth radiating through your body as you clutched it closer to you. The cramps were heinous, they always were the first two days of your cycle. The headaches and back pain that had started to accompany the cramps just an extra frustration.

The pain had started earlier in the day, after an already-nightmare start to the morning. From the coffee that had slipped off the counter early in the morning, mug shattering across the floor, to the package of paper that had flown off your desk later in the afternoon - it felt like everything was slowly getting worse and piling up as the day progressed.

This agonizing pain radiating from your uterus was simply the icing on the cake. Tears had already been irrationally shed, junk food consumed. All you wanted to do now was curl up on the couch with the heating pad and a blanket, maybe a few snacks, and the television on to whatever sad show you could find.

Physical comfort from your favourite person, would also be a plus. The only thing you actually wanted, too.

Unfortunately, Oscar was still on a plane. He was coming home from London for winter break, the Formula 1 season having finally come to an end.

It was the only thing you were looking forward to now. Even if the pain radiating from your uterus had you clutching the heating pad closer to your abdomen every few moments, a grimace so evident on your features - all you could think about was the fact Oscar would be walking through the apartment door in a few short hours.

Oscar had texted you from his layover in Singapore hours ago, advising he was about to get on the plane and would message you when the plane touched down in Melbourne. Having taken the same flight more times than you can even count, you knew it wouldn’t be much longer til he was back home in his home country.

The ding from your phone minutes later being exactly what you thought, Oscar had landed and was just grabbing his luggage. He’d likely be home in the next hour.

Knowing how late it was, Oscar wasn’t expecting a response from you when he messaged you to let you know he was on his way home. The surprise of receiving a response almost immediately prompted a small smile to curl up on his lips.

He hadn’t seen you in almost a month in a half, both schedules being too hectic to make time for him to fly home, or for you to fly out to a race. He had been dying to see you from the moment he stepped on the plane in London, excited to get the chance to curl up around you and simply sleep after such a long flight. He would be the first one to admit how much he detested sleeping alone.

You were thinking the same thing, except all you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms, his warm body helping to alleviate the never-ending cramping that felt like it was overtaking your body.

It didn’t take him long to get to your shared apartment once he finally hit the road, the late hour making it a smooth drive; no other cars on the road to impede his heavy foot that was currently pressing down on the gas pedal. 

The click of the lock had your head whipping towards the door from your spot on the couch, your face lighting up as the door swung open. Oscar had bags hanging off all his limbs, a backpack on his back, two suitcases beside his legs, a duffle swung up on his arms. But you could still see the smile on his face once your eyes connected with his.

It took him a moment to register you in the dark of the apartment, the only light being from the hallway and the television. He instantly clocked the heating pad pressed to your abdomen overtop of the blanket, the packages of snacks laid out on the coffee table in front of you, and the show you only ever watched during this time of the month replaying on the television - his own grimace overtook his features once he wrapped his head around everything.

Dragging all his belongings into the room, he made his way over to you. Internally groaning as you sat up, Oscar was quick to place a soft peck to your lips, your cheeks, and then your forehead.

“Hi, baby,” he said, a soft smile etched on his cheeks.

“Hi, Osc. Missed you,” you murmured.

“Missed you more. You look like you could use a hug,” the words left his lips, his eyes following your movements as you shrugged, a small nod following.

He knew you like the back of his hand, knew that all you wanted was affection and cuddles from him when your body was hurting like this. Which, after almost an entire day of flying, he was more than happy to grab your hand and drag you towards the bedroom, his bags a problem for another day as he flopped down on the bed, his jacket, shirt, and pants having already found their way to the floor. 

Eagerly dragging you into bed with him, he was quick to wrap his arms around you, tugging your body into his as he nestled his face into your neck. The exhale that fell from your lips was one of content. Happy to finally be wrapped in Oscar’s arms again, the warmth radiating from his body soothing the ache in yours.

“Missed you so much, Osc. Hate being away you for so long. Hate being alone when my body is trying to kill me.” 

You felt him press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck.

“Well, I’m home now. Everything will be better in the morning, my love.”

You hoped he was right. Really, you knew he was right. Your cramps wouldn’t be as bad, everything that had happened today would be yesterday’s problem. You got to wake up next to Oscar, had the opportunity to finally spend another day with him.

It was all you could ask for, really.

i don't love this, but i rewrote it so many times i needed to get it out??? all i want is oscar to comfort me when i'm dealing with this tho sooo

← remus lupin ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅