Urmmm... Wanted to say that I'm having a rather weird yet pleasant dream. I dream about a baby with someone, Hulk Hogan and..... Charles Leclerc 😳😳😳😳😳
My heart-❤️❤️❤️
Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife pregnant!reader? She had gone to the modiste and Ben was with her. (Not Madam Delacroix and they never do the deed💀) Ben was looking on something until hq notice her and just sort of speechless. She was glowing in the dress and with her pregnant state, Ben thanked whoever made him her husband. Just something fluff and maybe a little suggestive 👀. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))
Your body was changing.
Your beautiful and expensive dresses didn't fit you anymore, you had had to buy new shoes because your ankles were so swollen and, on your way to the modiste, you had had to stop for a rest a couple of times because you were short of breath. Your husband, Benedict, walked by your side holding your arm under his, checking up on you every minute in case you needed anything or were feeling unwell.
You would never admit it to him but you hated all of those things. Even though you loved being pregnant with his child, you hated every single change that was happening to your body. You didn't find yourself attractive anymore but he always made sure you knew that he saw you as beautiful as the day he fell in love with you.
Benedict held the door for you and you pressed your lips together into a smile when you walked into the little shop.
—Mister and Miss Bridgerton, how nice it is to see you here —.The modiste greeted you with a smile and quickly stopped what she was doing to give you a hug. —You look wonderful today, dear. How is the baby?
You rubbed your big belly. —She is quite calm today but she is hungry all the time.
—Then you shall eat for both, my Lady.
You sighed. —I know but...
Benedict threw an arm over your shoulders and hugged you against him. He kissed your temple, he knew he had to step in at that moment. —You are taking excellent care of our daughter, my love. She's going to be a strong and healthy girl thanks to you.
You sighed again and allowed Benedict to hug you. He always had the right words for every moment.
—I cannot agree more with Mr. Bridgerton. —Your modiste said and grabbed both of your hands. —And you look radiant, my Lady, and will look even better in your two new dresses.
Your face brightened and you squeezed her hands. —Are both of them already finished? —The modiste nodded, smiling. You broke away from Benedict to hug her tightly. —You are the best. How did you make them so fast?
—Well, you are not going to be pregnant forever and I wanted my favorite client to have her dresses as soon as possible.
The truth was that Benedict paid her a little more without your knowledge so that she would have them ready before the next ball. He didn't want to repeat what happened at the last ball. The pregnancy dresses were not made of particularly beautiful fabrics so when you saw the rest of the girls in lovely dresses, you couldn't help but feel bad about yourself.
—Can I try them on?
—Of course! I would love to see that.
You were ready to enter the small curtained space to try on the first dress when Benedict approached you. —Let me help you —. But the modiste stood in his way and shook her head. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
—Stay here, Mr. Bridgerton. I will help her.
Benedict looked at you, waiting for you to defend him, but you shook your head. —You heard her, love.
He acted hurt but understood that you wanted it to be a surprise.
While Benedict inspected everything in the shop, touched all the fabrics, and even poked his fingers with a few pins for being too curious, your modiste helped you to slip into the dress she sewed for you. She was very careful with your body, your big belly did not allow you to make many movements to put on the dress but she was prepared for that.
—Oh my dear, you look gorgeous —. The modiste took a step back to admire her work.
—Really? I don't know, I— You ran your hands over your big belly. Did your body looked weird? The dress was beautiful and the fabric was very soft and comfortable, the color was also perfect, but you were worried about how it would look on you.
—Every girl on the ton will want to get pregnant just so they can look like you.
You huffed a laugh and rolled your eyes. At least she knew how to make you laugh. —Do not say such things.
—Oh, I am being serious. Why don't we ask someone else? —The modiste opened the curtain. Benedict had his back turned to you, distracted by anything while waiting to see you.
—Ben? —You called his name and he immediatly turned to you.
Benedict gasped and had to fight not to fall on his knees before you even though he would have gladly done so. His face lit up, his eyes widened, his lips curved in a smile.
—Do you like it? —You played with your hands nervously. The modiste also waited for Benedict's answer although by his reaction, she knew that he was not only in love with the dress but deeply in love with you.
—Do you think they would let me marry you a second time?
You and the modiste shared a laugh.
—My love, you are dazzling. Let me see —. He approached you and took one of your hands so you could spin around. Benedict shook his head as you did so, how could a human being be so beautiful? Then you stood in front of him, he kissed your knuckle and then grabbed your cheeks to plant a quick kiss on your lips. Benedict kept his hands on your cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs.
—Okay, lovebirds. I will go get the other dress.
Your modiste left and you gave Benedict another quick kiss. Then, you turned around to look at yourself in the mirror. He hugged you from behind, his hands rested carefully on your big belly while he rested his chin on your shoulder and admired your reflection in the mirror.
—I love the dress but I cannot wait to get home and take it off you —. His lips kissed the crook of your neck.
—Benedict! —You giggled. —Do I even turn you on like this? —You put your hands over his on your belly.
—Oh, you have no idea.
@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane I agree 💯 with you!!!!! Btw in love this❤️
summary: You used to dream of marrying James when you were younger. Today, he's come to offer his congratulations.
pairing: james norrington x f!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: angst and mutual pining; arranged marriage (but not between reader and james) please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.
prompt: 42. a kiss to celebrate an engagement
a/n: before tumblr ate all of ren's asks i remember her sending in this prompt and requesting that it hurt. i don't remember which character it was supposed to be for but i think i accomplished that.
masterlist | read on ao3
As soon as you stepped outside and the noise of the banquet hall faded into the background, you felt like you could breathe again.
It was a lovely evening, pleasantly warm for London at this time of year. A soothing breeze caught in the fabric of your skirts and made them billow. You stepped away from the terrace doors, moving into the shadows closer to the balustrade, out of sight of anyone just wandering past.
Leaning against the cool stone, you let out a long sigh.
Ignoring the city’s usual stench, the city was quite beautiful in the light of the setting sun. The river sparkled in the low light, and lanterns were being lit in the streets below, making them flicker with a warm orangey glow.
"I don’t recall the last time I’ve seen you quite this satisfied."
You’d have flinched had it been any other voice behind you. With this one, though, you smiled. "James."
He looked taken aback for a second when you turned to face him, meeting your eyes for just a moment before lowering his head. "Milady."
Your heart fluttered a little when you laughed, an old familiar reaction. "Really? After all this time, Commodore?"
It was almost hidden in the shadows around his face, but you knew him well enough to tell he was hiding a smile of his own. "It’s only proper we start at some point, don’t you think?"
You hummed noncommittally, taking your time looking at him. It had been so long since you saw him last, and yet you felt like it had been mere moments. "I didn’t know you were back in the country."
"Well, I couldn’t have missed your engagement, now, could I?"
Of course. That was the entire reason for the elaborate feast tonight, after all; you’d finally agreed to the match your parents had been gently pushing you to make for ages.
It wasn’t that your future husband wasn’t a good man. He was gentler than most, tall and handsome, and willing to let you keep a good portion of your independence even in marriage as long as you honoured his name and reputation in public. In time, you were sure you’d grow to love him, even.
You’d live out the rest of your days comfortable and reasonably happy.
Still, your hand wanted to reach towards the man you’d always secretly hoped would ask for it first. Wanted to trace the frown line between his brows, the stubble on his chin he missed while shaving, the sharp line of his jaw. He met your gaze with something unspoken in his eyes, like he could see exactly what it was you were craving.
But James Norrington had never once crossed a line with you like that, and you weren’t about to embarrass yourself with an action as improper as that. You clutched your hands in front of you and turned towards the view once more.
"I suppose not," you said quietly, your smile frozen in place now.
He cleared his throat as he stepped up besides you. "Besides, I’m being summoned to Court."
"Nothing bad, I hope?"
"Don’t worry about me." There was a weary quality to his voice you were unfamiliar with. Perhaps, you thought, it had been too long after all.
"You know me," you said with forced lightness, because for the first time, you thought he might not. "I always do."
James lowered his head again, and you weren’t sure what thoughts clouded his mind too much to register the open concern on your face. For a while, you kept quiet, debating with yourself as to how to take up the conversation again.
In the end, you resigned. "How are things overseas?"
"Interesting."
"I bet," you said, words continuing to fall out of your mouth. "Everything’s always the same here. You must have the most fantastical stories."
"Perhaps." If possible, he seemed even more distant than before.
Look at me, you begged silently, even though you’d long since forsaken any right to his attention.
"Did you bring your fiancée?" you made a desperate last attempt. "You must introduce us."
You’d never met Elizabeth Swann yourself, but all of London’s society was agreed that she was both beautiful and intelligent. Someone with the right qualities, the right social standing for someone like James; someone he’d want to look at constantly.
"Ah," he said, not quite a scoff; a last ebb of emotion. "No fiancée, I’m afraid."
"What happened?"
At last, he turned towards you, looking at you as though he was letting himself see you for the first time. "It emerged that our hearts weren’t quite aligned."
Something panged painfully in your chest at those words, the ring on your finger very sharp and heavy all of a sudden. "I’m terribly sorry."
"Don’t be. It was a nice dream. Besides, today is a day of celebration, isn’t it?" he gave you a tired smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
You’d always loved James Norrington’s eyes. When you were younger, you wanted to drown in them every second of every day for the rest of your life. That had been a nice dream, too. But in real life, women like you had to make a strategic match, and your parents would never have let you leave England.
The invisible thing between you seemed to whir as he looked at you, but neither of you dared to speak it into existence, even now. It was too precious to be bound into words.
A chill went through you.
"You’re cold," James remarked, blinking. "I should leave you to return to your betrothed."
The air seemed to grow even colder. "Already?"
"I was only going to call upon you for a short while." He hesitated, then reached out for your hand. "My sincerest congratulations, Mrs Hamilton."
He pressed his lips to your knuckles reverently, holding your gaze while still keeping that damn respectful distance between your bodies. You were frozen to the spot, lost to the depth of his eyes and the things left unsaid.
"Thank you," you whispered when he finally lowered your hand once again, his thumb ghosting across your fingers before he let go and the ice returned to your bones. The chatter returned to the background.
Life went on.
You pressed your lips together as he turned to take his leave, but your heart was still pounding wildly, making you follow him, "James!"
He stopped, and you realised you’d grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, holding onto the thick brocade like you could spin it around your fingers and keep him tethered to you. Your voice was shaking. "Will I see you again?"
For a moment, you dared to hope; to dream again, for a beautiful couple of seconds.
He swallowed, his hands clenching into fists once before letting go.
"Of course, darling."
James Norrington had never lied to you before, and maybe it was because of that you knew he wasn’t telling you the truth this time; only what you desperately wanted to hear.
You let him leave, and that dream of yours cracked more and more with each step he took away from you, leaving reality covered in broken pieces.
He did not turn back.
thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💛
Please tell her to include Jack Abbot!!!!! My man deserves more love especially from her🤭
She has such good taste it’s crazy
🥺
A𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡: 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑧 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡
W𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑦-𝑜𝑛𝑒
𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡: 𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @pear-1206
It was Mexico, one of the most anticipated races of the season for you. Not because it was your favorite but rather because it was a race that would finally be in your city. You hadn't wanted to go when the date finally rolled around, having had your heart broken by someone you had dated for a few months. But your friends had promised it would be fun and that they would stay with you. But perusal they hadn't and instead leaving you to try to get a chance at a drivers autograph. As you walked through the paddock, you forced smiles with everyone your eyes had shifted pasted. You suddenly felt strangely insecure. Were all these people judging you? Your clothes? Your hair?
You had spent a considerable amount of time making sure you were happy with your appearance today and had felt extremely confident, but now you weren't so sure of yourself. Stopping, you looked around, hoping to find a glimpse of your friends. Instead, what you found made your heart beat faster, and a blush creeped up your neck. Your eyes had connected with one of the red bull drivers, Checo, to be exact. It felt as though suddenly everything melted away. Something about him had felt so familiar, and you know maybe that was just the fact that you had seen him online how many times, or maybe it was the delusion talking.
You blinked, and suddenly, he was walking over to you. "You're a redbull fan?" He asked with a smile. "Huh?" You asked before he smiled, nodding down at your chest. Well, at the RedBull jacket that was covering it. "Oh yea, I-I am," you smiled, fumbling over your words.
Checo had been immediately drawn to the girl standing in the paddock, looking around as if she were lost, and when he saw the RedBull Jacket, he felt a sense of pride. Even if you weren't a fan just of him, you were a fan of his team, and that meant something. "Always nice to meet fans, I'm Checo." He smiled, putting out his hand to shake.
You gave him your hand, saying your name before you smiled. "I know who you are, big fan." You had added." His eyes widened in disbelief. "Seriously?" He whispered.
He had doubts there were people who even supported him much these days, much less a girl like you. With those soft eyes, that gentle smile and flowy hair. You giggled in response, and God that sound, he wished there was a way he could record it and put it on repeat in his head for bad days.
"Of course I am, You're a talented driver, Checo," you had told him. He had heard the words so many times they had lost meaning before, but when you said it. God, it suddenly meant the entire world. Th-Thank you. " He fumbled over his words, making him internally facepalm. "You're welcome," you smiled.
Suddenly, an idea came to him as he loomed down at the passes around your neck. "Would you like a tour around the garage?" He asked, and you smiled. "That would be wonderful, but I have to find my friends before the race starts," you softly declined. "But maybe another time?" You had added after immediately regretting the offer. His smile had faltered for a second. "Yea, yea, that's good," He said, feeling embarrassed. You turned to walk away but stopped for a second.
"Oh, checo?" He looked at you. "It was enchanting to meet you," you said before disappearing into the crowd. "You too," He whispered under his breath, looking down at his phone.
A few hours after the race, you were walking through the paddock with your friends to the exit when suddenly you felt someone run up next to you. You turned to see Max, and he said your name, asking if it were you. You nodded, and he smiled. "I noticed Checo talking to you earlier, and I don't feel I'd be a good friend if I didn't at least try," He sighed. "Is there a possibility of getting your number for him? He doesn't even know I'm asking, but please?" He pleads, and you chuckled.
You dug in your purse, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. Quickly writing down your number and handing it to him. "Tell him I'll be waiting for that call," you smiled, and Max nodded before bidding his farewells to the group and running away. You had chuckled to yourself. There was no way that had actually happened.
Two years later:
You walked down the aisle, the white dress fitting against your skin as if it were made for you. You look up at the man standing by the altar and suddenly realize this was your life. This wasn't just some delusion or some fantasy. You were marrying this man. You would be his wife, and he would be your husband. Tears welled in your eyes as the normal wedding procedures happened.
It was when he said his vows that you broke down crying. "I am forever wonderstruck by you mi amore, and like you said to me that first day we met, I'll forever wonder if you know just how Enchanted I was to meet you"
It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳
🤌🏻
Please all of you should read this masterpiece!!
Market Hearts - Benedict Bridgerton
Word Count: 1751
Summary: When one notices their lover's joy in a rather odd place, why would they not join in on the feeling?
Benedict Bridgerton, the second son of the Bridgerton family, had never imagined himself spending a morning in the bustling streets of the London market.
It was an unconventional activity for a gentleman of his stature, but then again, you were anything but conventional.
Y/n Bridgerton, you were a woman of singular character.
You possessed a spirit as free as the wind and a heart as generous as the summer sun.
From the moment Benedict had laid eyes on you, he had known that his life would never be the same.
Marrying you had been the easiest decision of his life, but understanding the full depth of your soul was a journey he was still on.
This morning was to be another chapter in that journey.
“Benedict, you don’t have to come with me,” you said, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you adjusted the basket on your arm.
The sunlight streamed through the windows of your house, casting a warm glow on your hair.
Benedict, already dressed in attire more suited for a morning ride in the park than a trip to the market, shook his head with a smile.
“Nonsense. How can I resist seeing where you disappear to every week? You speak of the market as if it were some magical land.”
“In a way, it is,” you replied, your voice softening. “It’s full of life and color, of people with stories etched into their faces. It reminds me of how fast the world is.”
Benedict studied your face, noting the earnestness in your eyes.
This was not merely a chore for you, it was an adventure, an exploration of humanity that fed your soul.
It was one of the many reasons he loved you so fiercely. How could he not join you on this journey, even if only for a day?
“Then lead the way, my love,” he said, offering you his arm.
You walked through the streets of Mayfair, a picture-perfect couple that turned heads wherever you went.
Benedict, with his tall, lean frame and dark, wavy hair, cut a dashing figure in his tailored coat and polished boots.
You, on the other hand, were the epitome of grace and beauty.
Your gown, a simple yet elegant affair in pale blue, highlighted your form and the natural radiance that seemed to emanate from your every pore.
As you moved further away from the more affluent parts of town, the cobblestones grew uneven, and the scent in the air shifted from the delicate aroma of roses to the more earthy smell of baked bread and fresh produce.
The market was already bustling with activity, despite the early hour.
Stalls lined the streets, filled with everything from ripe fruits and vegetables to bolts of colorful fabric and handmade trinkets.
Benedict quickly noticed how out of place he was.
Gentlemen of his rank did not frequent such places.
He could feel the curious glances of the vendors and the wary looks of the other shoppers, but he paid them no mind.
His focus was on you.
You greeted the stall owners by name, engaging them in friendly conversation as you perused their wares.
Benedict watched as you haggled over the price of a plump tomato with an elderly man, your laughter infectious as you bantered back and forth.
It was a side of you that he rarely saw—a side that was not burdened by the expectations of society, a side that was free and unguarded.
“Y/n has a way with people,” the voice of an elderly woman cut through his thoughts.
Benedict turned to find a small, wizened woman standing beside him, a knowing smile on her lips.
She was dressed in a simple brown dress, her hair hidden beneath a white cap.
Despite her humble appearance, there was something regal about her bearing.
“Indeed she does,” Benedict replied, his gaze drifting back to you, as you were helping a young mother choose a handful of carrots while keeping the woman’s children entertained with a funny story.
The old woman chuckled. “She has the gift of seeing people, really seeing them. It’s a rare thing, especially among those who live in the world you come from.”
Benedict studied the woman, intrigued by her words. “And what world would that be?”
“The world of titles and wealth, where appearances matter more than hearts,” the woman said, her tone gentle but firm. “Your wife, she sees past all that. She sees the soul.”
Benedict felt a stirring in his chest, a mix of pride and something deeper—something almost like reverence.
The old woman’s words rang true.
You had always had an uncanny ability to connect with people, to make them feel seen and valued, no matter their station in life.
“She is my sunshine,” Benedict found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could think better of them.
The old woman smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “And you, young man, are her moon. You reflect her light and give it back to her when the night comes.”
Benedict looked at the woman in surprise, but before he could respond, she gave him a small nod and shuffled away into the crowd, leaving him standing there, contemplating her words.
He had always known that you were special, but seeing you here, in your element, made him realize just how unique you truly were.
You were a beacon of light, brightening the lives of everyone you encountered.
And it was his duty, his privilege, to protect that light.
As you continued your journey through the market, Benedict found himself more and more in awe of you.
You moved with a grace that belied the chaos around you, your laughter like music amidst the cacophony of voices and sounds.
He saw how the sellers’ faces lit up when they saw you, how the children gathered around you, drawn to your warmth like moths to a flame.
But he also saw the challenges.
There were moments when your cheerful demeanor was met with coldness or indifference, when your attempts to connect were rebuffed by those who were too hardened by life’s difficulties to appreciate your kindness.
And it was in those moments that Benedict felt a fierce protectiveness rise within him.
He had always been a man of action, a man who could solve problems with a few well-placed words or a deft stroke of his pen.
But here, in this vibrant, unpredictable world, he realized that there were some things that required more than just his influence or his name.
Here, it was you who held the power, and all he could do was stand by your side and support you in whatever way he could.
“Benedict,” your voice brought him back to the present.
You were standing in front of a stall selling flowers, a small bouquet of wildflowers in your hand. “Aren’t these lovely? They remind me of the fields near our home.”
Benedict smiled and took the bouquet from you, bringing it to his nose to inhale the sweet scent. “They are lovely, but not as lovely as you.”
You blushed and playfully swatted his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Only because you inspire it, my dear.”
As you continued to browse the stalls, Benedict felt a growing sense of contentment.
This was what life was truly about—these small, precious moments shared with the person he loved more than anything in the world.
Eventually, you made your way to a quieter part of the market, where a small café sat tucked away between two larger buildings.
You led him inside, where you found a cozy table near the window.
The owner, a rotund man with a jolly face, greeted you warmly and quickly brought you a pot of tea and a plate of freshly baked scones.
“I come here every time I visit the market,” you explained as you poured the tea. “It’s my little retreat, a place to sit and think.”
Benedict looked around the café, taking in the simple yet charming décor.
It was a place that perfectly reflected your personality—unpretentious, welcoming, and full of warmth.
As you sipped your tea, Benedict reached across the table and took your hand in his. “Thank you for bringing me here today.”
You looked at him, your eyes filled with love and affection. “I’m glad you came. I know it’s not the sort of place you’re used to, but it means a lot to me that you wanted to share it with me.”
Benedict squeezed your hand, his heart swelling with emotion. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
You sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company.
Benedict found himself reflecting on the events of the morning, on the way you had moved through the market with such ease and grace.
He realized that you had a rare gift, one that went beyond your beauty or your charm.
You had the ability to bring out the best in people, to make them feel valued and appreciated.
And it was a gift that he was determined to protect, no matter what.
When you finally left the café, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.
Benedict and you made your way back to your home, the basket of market goods in tow.
As you walked, Benedict wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“You know,” he said, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve always considered myself a man of the night. I find solace in the quiet, in the solitude.”
You looked up at him, your eyes curious. “And now?”
Benedict smiled down at you, his heart full to bursting. “Now I know that the night is only beautiful because of the sun. You are my sunshine. You bring light to my life in ways I never imagined.”
Tears glistened in your eyes as you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. “And you are my moon. You are the one who gives me the strength to shine, who reflects my light when I cannot see it myself.”
You continued your walk in silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a blessing.
Benedict knew that life would not always be easy, that there would be challenges and obstacles ahead.
But as long as he had you by his side, he knew you could face anything together.
You were his sunshine, and he was your moon.
And together, you would light up the world.
This is so wholesome!!! Everyone, I mean EVERYONE needs to read this!!!
masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!
SUMMARY౨ৎ fernando loves his little girl. and he isn’t afraid to show that. from her first time in the garage, to her first ever football game. Best of all? Everyone loves girl-dad fernando!! (a smau compilation of fernando, you, and camila 🩵) requested!
PAIRING ౨ৎ Fernando Alonso x Wife!Reader
WARNINGS ౨ৎ none! super fluffy 🩵 (fernando types like a dad, i don’t make the rules) VERY SHORT!
A/N ౨ৎ little camila has been converted into a oc at this point?? i mean she’s been in not one but 2 fernando fics already. unintentionally created a oc haha
PART 1: `` ౨ৎ SECRET IS OUT ౨ৎ `` ,
EXTRA: `` ౨ৎSLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS౨ৎ ``
INSTAGRAM, DECEMBER 2023
y/n_l/n & fernandoalo_offical have made a new post!
liked by astonmartinf1, lace_stroll, carlossainz55, and others
y/n_l/n a little someone is done cooking… welcome to the world Camila 🎀
1,396 comments
user1 OMG IT HAPPENED 🥹🥹
user2 CAMILA L/N-ALONSO HAS BEEN BORN
user3 project verstappen is a go.
→ user4 project verstappen??? more like project alonso 🗣️
→ user5 OOOHH FERNANDO ALONSO!!! 🗣️🔥
f1 ✔︎ the young rookie finally has his own young one! Congratulations you two! Can’t wait to see her in the garage! 🏁
francisca.cgomes ✔︎ AHHH SHE’S SO CUTE! CAN’T WAIT TO MEET HER 🩷
y/n_l/n all doors are open for you 😚
landonorris ✔︎ papaya fan in the making? 👀🍊
→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ no! 🎉 🎊 🎈
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ that’s a orange
→ landonorris ✔︎ no shit sherlock
astonmartinf1 ✔︎ Congratulations to our new crew member! 😊
→ y/n_l/n 💚
estebanocon ✔︎ glad to know that Lance didn’t spoil this one!
→ lance_stroll ✔︎ haha funny. 🫤
oscarpiastri ✔︎ seems i won’t be the youngest on the grid anymore 😅
→ y/n_l/n don’t worry oscar, you’re still my adopted son 🫂
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ good to know 🙃
→ landonorris ✔︎ what about me @ y/n_l/n??? 🤨
→ y/n_l/n you’ve been demoted since you helped lance leak my baby shower 😒
→ landonorris ✔︎ I SAID SORRY
→ y/n_l/n apology NOT accepted
maxverstappen1 ✔︎ …are toy donations still up for grabs?
→ kellypiquet ✔︎ …Max? 🤨
→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ you saw nothing.
lilymunihe ✔︎ officially a milf???
→ y/n_l/n hell yeah 😍😍😋
TWITTER, 2026
INSTAGRAM, FUTURE (2026)
fernandoalo_offical ✔︎
liked by y/n_l/n, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and others
fernandoalo_offical Camila’s first race! Everything's better with loved ones in the garage ❤️
tagged; y/n_l/n
2,348 comments
y/n_l/n @ landonorris why are you bribing my child with hats 🤨
→ landonorris ✔︎ those are very bold accusations you’re throwing Mrs. L/N-Alonso 🤔
→ y/n_l/n then why did she come home saying mclaren is the best??
→ landonorris ✔︎ ….ask oscar?
→ y/n_l/n you lost babysitting privileges.
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ gotta show her the better team 🤷
→ y/n_l/n YOU LOST THEM TOO. KIKA AND LILY ARE NOW IN CHARGE.
→ francisca.cgomes ✔︎ yes ma’am. 😳
→ lilymunihe ✔︎ yay!
→ lilyzneimer yay!
→ lilymunihe ✔︎ …🤨 @ lilyzneimer
→ lilyzneimer …🤨 @ lilymunihe
user6 MOM IS BACK IN THE PADDOCK!!
user7 i love how fernando just posts his family instead of anythin team related 😭
→ astionmartinf1 ✔︎ still waiting to be seen 😞👊
→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ the wife and camila come first ❤️
→ y/n_l/n as it should :)
fernandoalo_offical ✔︎
liked by fernandoalonso, francisca.cgomes, kellypiquet, and others
y/n_l/n quick late summer break :)
tagged; fernandoalonso
3,208 comments
user8 DILF!! DILF!! DILF!! 📢‼🚨🚨📣🗣🗣⚠️
user9 my dilf senses are tingling 🤤
user10 PEOPLE ARE TALKING ABOUT FERNANDO WHAT ABOUT CAMILA :(( SHE LOOKS SO HAPPY 🥹🩷
→ user11 THIS!! YOU KNOW THAT LITTLE GIRL IS LOVED BY HOW MUCH FERNANDO (FERNANDO FOR CRYING OUT LOUD) POSTS HER 🥹
→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ Ella es mi princesita, of course I post her ☺️
→ user12 “she’s my princess” IM GONNA CRY.
user13 ugh y/n is so classy.
→ user14 very classy very demure
francisca.cgomes ✔︎ she’s growing up so fast 🥹🥹
→ y/n_l/n I know! I still remember when she was just born 🩷
→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ and I still remember you screaming and crushing my hand 😅
→ y/n_l/n we agreed to keep this silent 😞
fernandoalo_offical ✔︎
liked by f1, georgerussell63, astonmartinf1, and others
fernandoalonso father like daughter!
tagged; y/n_l/n
2,348 comments
user15 PROJECT VERSTAPPEN!!
→ user16 NO, PROJECT HAMILTON
→ user17 i say project schumacher 🙃
→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ everyone forgot about project alonso 😞
→ user18 look at what you guys did. you made grandpa sad.
lewishamilton ✔︎ already better than most people i knew of on the track! 🤩 🏁
→ nicorosberg ✔︎ …🤨
astonmartinf1 ✔︎ already preparing for that seat 👀
→ user19 yeah, if lance or fernando ever leave 😭
→ user20 LMAO
f1 ✔︎ Future World Champion in the making!
→ user21 a woman could be f1 champion 😂🤣
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ imagine bullying a little girl @ user21
→ landonorris ✔︎ imagine hating on a little girl that could kick your ass in karting @ user21
→ maxverstappen1 ✔︎ imagine feeling the need to say something out of your ass because your jealous she can be better than you @ user21
→ carlossainz55 ✔︎ imagine being such a lowlife @ user21
→ charles_leclerc ✔︎ imagine being such a piece of shit @ user21
→ lance_stroll ✔︎ imagine taking your anger on a girl who’s father loves her enough to put her into something she loves and you couldn’t because your father left for milk and never came home after 40+ years. @ user21
view 1239 more comments by alexalbon, lewishamilton, yukitsunoda, and others?
→ user22 watching the grid defend camila and degrade this middle-aged man is the highlight of my day.
→ y/n_l/n couldn’t have asked for better friends 🥹
y/n_l/n
y/n_l/n my babies ❤️
tagged; fernandoalonso, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer
3,208 comments
oscarpiastri ✔︎ mama e papa
→ user23 NOT FERNANDO AND Y/N ADOPTING OSCAR AND LILY
→ fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ mi amor, you do know that oscar and lily aren’t our children right?
→ y/n_l/n what do you mean i literally birthed them out of my vagina??
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ wait wouldn’t that make her my sister and not… my girlfriend..? 😬
→ y/n_l/n i take it back i didn’t birth them out from inside of me
user24 the family we didn’t know we needed
user25 HER FLUFFY DRESS.
→ y/n_l/n alexandra picked it out! she taste in fashion is impeccable ❤️
→ alexandrasaintmleux ✔︎ always happy to help out! it was the best having camila with us during the ceremony 🩷
user26 the way she sat on Fernando’ss laop the whole time and clapped when everyone started clapping 😭
→ user27 AND WHEN SHE WOULD SAY HI TO THE DRIVERS ON THE STAGE WHEN THEY WERE CALLED UP
→ user28 everyone loves camila l/n-alonso
maxvertsappen1 ✔︎ stop she is so cute im crying 😭😭😭😭😭😭🥹🥹😞😞😓😓😔😔😔🫶🤌🥰
→ charles_leclerc ✔︎ max how drunk on alcohol are you right now?
→ maxvertsappen1 ✔︎ 5’11
→ landonorris ✔︎ HE SAID DRUNK NOT HIGH YOU MUPPET 💀
fernandoalo_offical ✔︎
🎵 Slipping Through My Fingers - ABBA
liked by lewishamilton, yukitsunoda, felipedrugovich, and others
fernandoalonso ¡Creciendo tan rápido! First day of school already! 🏫 Camila even got asked what she wanted to be when she grew up and said she’d like to be a engineer ❤️
tagged; y/n_l/n
2,348 comments
user29 THE SONG.
→ user30 NONONO I CAN’T DO THIS. NOT WITH THIS SONG :(
→ user31 “Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning”
→ user32 “Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile”
→ landonorris ✔︎ ENOUGH OF THIS YOU MONSTERS.
oscarpiastri ✔︎ i can you you crying from your hotel room @ landonorris
→ landonorris ✔︎ LEAVE ME ALONE LET ME CRY IN PEACE.
user33 mama mia core 😭
user34 i just watched a child grow up. i feel so old.
landonorris ✔︎ i swore she was just born 4 months ago
→ y/n_l/n and i swore i saw you bribbing her to be a mclaren fan not too long ago too! 😊
lance_stroll ✔︎ will miss seeing her in the garage 😞
→ y/n_l/n Camila says she’ll miss you too Lancey 💚
→ user37 MORE LACEY STROLLY AND CAMILA CONTENT 🗣️
user35 SHE 😭 WANTS 😭 TO 😭 BE 😭A 😭 ENGINEER
user36 mark my words she will be in f1 one way or another.
kellypiquet ✔︎ the absolute cutest. can’t wait for her a P to hang out again sometime soon!
♥️ liked by Author!
→ y/n_l/n planning the next play date already!
TWITTER, 204?
INSTAGRAM, 204?
camila_y/nalonso has made a new post!
camila_y/nalonso truly a honor for my dream to come true. from being a little girl watching everything happen, to finally working on everything happening. ¡Vamos, McLaren! (P.S Thank you Uncle Lando for getting me into McLaren 🧡 )
tagged; mclaren
3,405 comments
fernandoalo_offical ✔︎ Esa es mi chica. ❤️ (That's my girl.)
Warnings? None, really! Mostly fluffy, with plenty of longing. Toto Wolff x Reader. One shot.
Words: 1.176.
You remember your 19 years as if it were today, when you used to accompany your younger brother to karting classes. One day, you’re sitting by the edge of the racetrack, impatient, your face resting on the palm of your hand, your eyes wandering bored over the boys zigzagging with their karts. The next, you’re there willingly, observing every movement, waiting with a silent anticipation that you don’t dare confess even to yourself.
At first, the minutes dragged; you counted your brother’s laps on the track as if they were the beats of a lazy clock. But later, each hour seemed to dissolve between muffled laughter and glances that you couldn’t decipher. You vividly remember the days when your mother insisted you go along to the practices, your presence becoming a routine.
You thought you were there out of obligation, a shadow following your younger brother like an obedient guard dog, not realizing that your own freedom was beginning to intertwine with that space.
That’s when your thoughts began to take shape on the pages of your notebook:
So, there is this boy...
Tall, dark-haired, with a smile you couldn’t decipher. He was a bit odd, too quiet for someone who dealt with speed and adrenaline. There was a shyness there, something you couldn’t quite identify at first.
Always observant, always attentive to details that escaped others. Maybe it was this quietness that caught your attention.
Back then, you weren’t good at understanding boys’ behavior. You thought he simply hadn’t noticed you in the same way. Maybe he was just another attentive instructor, too focused on his job to pay attention to the girl who was always hanging around, pretending to be disinterested.
Until your best friend, always more perceptive, said something that caught you by surprise: “You two are flirting. But in the most awkward and innocent way possible.” And suddenly, everything made sense.
The way he hesitated when talking to you, always looking for an excuse to prolong the conversations. The fleeting glances he’d throw your way while adjusting your brother’s helmet, as if he wanted to make sure you were really there. And those smiles... those restrained smiles you thought were just professional courtesy. Casual questions about university exams, musical tastes, anything that could prolong that shared moment.
And, somehow, even without fully understanding it, you started to write more about him in your notebook, as if each word could capture what you felt and the things you didn’t know how to say out loud.
By the time you realized what could have been between you, he had already left the racetrack. So, he ended up being just a few more pages in your notebook, mixed with notes on dreams and random thoughts.
He had dropped out of university, changed jobs, and moved to another country to pursue his dream of becoming a driver. And there, facing the void he had left behind, you found yourself wondering if it had all just been your imagination.
Maybe it was just a game your mind played.
And that was okay if it was. Because, in that moment, you discovered what it was like to fall in love for the first time.
You fell for him.
The first year of university passed in a blur. You threw yourself into studies and social events, not because you were particularly interested, but because it felt like the only way to silence that nagging sense of something missing. You changed majors twice, joined a few clubs, even went to a couple of parties where you pretended to have fun, but nothing really clicked.
Your friends found it odd—how you always seemed a little disconnected, a little too preoccupied. They teased you for being too serious or too grown-up. You’d smile and brush it off, but deep down, you knew they were right. You were trying to outrun something you couldn’t quite name.
Ten years had passed, and your life had taken a direction that the impatient and rebellious nineteen-year-old you once were could never have imagined. Today, you worked in international tax consulting, dealing with numbers, laws, and complex agreements that filled your days and drained your energy. But, even surrounded by folders and endless spreadsheets, motorsport still managed to find its way into your life.
Your brother, now older and even more determined, continued his journey in karting. What began as a youthful passion had turned into a dream he pursued with surprising tenacity. You found yourself frequenting the racetracks again, watching his practice sessions, now as a spectator and supporter, no longer as a reluctant guardian.
Your fiancé — or rather, your ex-fiancé — shared the same passion. He was a fascinating, elegant man, and like so many others, absolutely obsessed with motorsport. You traveled together to watch races, discussed drivers and teams, followed the transfer market with enthusiasm. In the beginning, it seemed perfect. He understood your past, your involvement in the sport through your brother.
Your best friend still kept in touch with him, the boy from your teenage years, and would occasionally update you on his life. This connection, however tenuous, was enough to stir a sense of familiarity, a bittersweet nostalgia that made your ex-fiancé uneasy. He’d raise an eyebrow whenever your friend's updates slipped into conversation, sensing a thread that seemed to pull you back to a past he couldn’t reach.
It wasn’t long before that subtle tension unraveled the engagement. You found yourself standing alone in a bridal boutique in Paris—Rosa Clará, one of those elegant places with gilded mirrors and delicate lace draped over every surface—returning the wedding dress you had once chosen with such certainty. There was an odd comfort in the transaction, as if letting go of the dress was the final step in freeing yourself from a future that no longer felt like your own.
As you handed the dress back, the shop assistant gave you a sympathetic smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. You wondered briefly if she knew the story behind every gown that was returned. The dress, so carefully chosen, now felt like a stranger in your hands—something beautiful and full of promise, yet utterly disconnected from the woman you were now.
When you realized it, you had taken a few days off work and flown back to Styria. You were sitting in Café Strauss, waiting for your friend, your eyes drifting to the door every few minutes. You had just ordered a latte and a slice of sachertorte, letting the steam from your cup calm your nerves, when someone gently asked if they could join you.
“Can I join you?” The voice was tentative, as if testing the waters.
You looked up, expecting your friend, but instead, there he was. The same intense, unwavering gaze, with a more confident smile, yet still that familiar hint of shyness.
“Oh…” You paused, a smile tugging at your lips as you gestured to the chair. “Hi, Toto.” And in that moment, you knew—your friend wasn’t going to show up anytime soon.
And you are still falling.
Inspired by this quote: not very attractive with the girls. Here: Speed Dating with Toto, Lewis, and Valtteri – Part 2! 👏 …as well as this photo: Instagram
*tears falls slowly* 💔😭
oh bobby, mr captain robert nash, mr dad to us all. thank you for all these years. thank you for showing strength, and heroism, and braveness. thank you for showing they also exist in vulnerability. thank you for raising them as a family. thank you for allowing yourself to love once again 🤍
thank you for fighting, and teaching how to fight. thank you for your kindness, and your candor, and maturity. thank you for loving them through and in-spite of it all.
thank you for loving athena, and her kids as your own. thank you for forgiving yourself. thank you for saving them all in so many ways. thank you for admitting your wrongs and seeing beyond them. thank you for staying a little while longer.
and most of all, thank you to Peter Krause, for giving this character life. there’s a part of me that hopes this was fake. I hope this posts looks ridiculous in a couple of weeks. if not, you have and will always have my heart. thank you for giving us bobby, he’ll be honored and remembered through centuries to come 🤍
Nando is the sweetest husband ever!! 😍😍🥺❤️
fluff.
age-gap. not specifically mentioned but the reader is younger.
approx. 1000 words
fernando alonso masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.
Seated in the luxurious confines of his private jet, en route to Bahrain for the electrifying Grand Prix season opener, you found yourself ensconced in a cocoon of anticipation and desire. Across from you lounged the man who ignited flames of passion within your soul, his intense gaze igniting a firestorm of longing and yearning deep within you. As you gazed out of the window, ensnared by the mesmerising spectacle of clouds stretching endlessly across the cerulean expanse, his voice, velvety and laden with desire, pierced through the tranquil ambiance.
“Go on a date with me,” he murmured huskily beside you, his words dripping with an intoxicating blend of sincerity and playful allure.
You turned to him, a soft laugh escaping your lips at the unexpected proposition. “Pardon?” you replied, your voice laced with amusement and a hint of teasing.
“Please~ go on a date with me?” he pleaded, his smile infused with the heady scent of whiskey that hung in the air, a testament to his valiant efforts to ease his nerves during the flight.
Amused by his endearing persistence, you leaned in closer, revelling in the magnetic pull between you. “I don’t know if my dad will approve of you, sir,” you teased, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes.
“What!” he exclaimed, his offence giving way to a grin of delight. “Let me talk to your dad, sweetheart, I’m sure I could convince him.”
After a brief pause, he regarded you with a dreamy expression, his eyes alight with adoration. “You’re pretty,” he declared softly, his gaze tracing the contours of your face with reverence. “D- Do you have a boyfriend, pretty?” he hiccupped slightly, his smile widening with each passing moment.
You nodded, a tender smile playing on your lips. “A husband, actually,” you replied, your tone infused with affection and determination.
His brow furrowed in confusion, his expression a mixture of disbelief and jealousy. “Leave him, be with me!” he urged, his words slurred with the remnants of alcohol. “Who is this man?” he demanded, his concern palpable.
With a knowing smile, you retrieved your phone, turning the screen towards him to reveal his own reflection staring back at him. “Wh- Wait, I am your husband!” he exclaimed, realisation dawned on him. “So can we go out on the date I planned?”
You nodded in agreement, squeezing his hand affectionately before attempting to release it. However, he held on tightly, his grip a reassuring anchor in the swirling sea of emotions.
Later, in the privacy of the opulent hotel room, he began to sober up (barely), the lingering effects of alcohol fading away as he prepared for the evening ahead. With meticulous care, he adorned himself in his finest attire, his efforts a testament to his unwavering devotion to you. As you emerged from the bathroom, your beauty was enhanced by the artful application of makeup, his breath caught in his throat, his heart swelling with an overwhelming surge of desire.
“Whoa… Hola Cariño,” he joked, his voice husky with desire as he approached you, his hands tracing the curves of your body with electrifying precision. “I could just cancel dinner, then we could skip right to dessert?”
You blushed, a playful glint dancing in your eyes. “Shut up,” you countered, a coy smile playing on your lips. “But no— I just dressed up all nice for you— so you are gonna wine and dine me.” With a gentle press of your hands against his chest, you planted a tender kiss on his cheek, his grin widening as he playfully smacked your ass before guiding you towards the door, anticipation burning like a blazing inferno between you.
Under the soft glow of twinkling fairy lights strung overhead, you and your partner find yourselves nestled in a cozy corner of the enchanting garden café. The air is still alive in the evening, with the melody of chirping birds and the gentle rustle of leaves, lending an ethereal quality to the evening.
As you sip on glasses of sparkling champagne, your fingers intertwined with Fernando's, you can't help but marvel at the sheer magic of the moment. Across the table, his eyes sparkle with affection, mirroring the starlight above as he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours in a sweet symphony of intimacy.
With a playful twinkle in their eye, your partner reaches for a delicate rose nestled in a vase on the table, presenting it to you with a flourish. "For the most beautiful woman I've ever set my eyes on," He whispers, his voice a tender caress against your ear.
Your heart swells with warmth as you accept the flower, its petals soft beneath your fingertips. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice filled with gratitude and love.
Together, you share laughter and stories, each moment infused with a sense of joy and wonder. The world fades away as you lose yourselves in each other's company, the hours slipping by unnoticed in the embrace of your love.
As the night deepens, he rises from his seat, extending a hand towards you with a smile. "May I have this dance?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with mischief and longing.
You accept with a smile, rising gracefully to your feet as he leads you to a makeshift dance floor bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. With gentle movements and whispered promises, you sway together in perfect harmony, lost in the rhythm of the music and the embrace of each other's arms.
In that moment, time stands still, and all that exists is the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of love and affection. With every step, every touch, you feel your bond deepening, your souls intertwining in a dance as old as time itself.
As the song draws to a close, you find yourselves reluctant to part, the magic of the evening lingering like a sweet, lingering dream.
el fin