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mickyschumacher · 2 days ago

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[REVOLVING DOOR! PT.2]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: now that you've decided to dance with the devil, he's left waiting for the next moment you meet behind closed doors. or in which max learns the game of patience.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, angst, poor humour, smut (18+ minors DNI), making out, unprotected sex (let's be safe pls), p in v, degradation - lots of name calling, brattiness, teasing, blowjob, tears, light choking, orgasm denial, fingering, eating out, cumming inside, mutual orgasms, overstimulation, an immense amount of ego and pride, possessiveness, faint dom-sub dynamics

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: max verstappen x fem!reader, charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6.6k+

tag list (lmk if you wanna be added): @ggaslyp1 @lovesick-sylus @charlesgirl16 @adelinegirlsstuff @freyathehuntress @kenkozkmg @angelluv16 @hott1es @samriddhisingh @theonlyonesora @killjoynotes @bluewxrld07 @dreamauri @fuckingsimp4azriel @fightclubendingscene @dontsupressthejess @emmapotato88 @wertyuizxcvbnm @gigivel28 @stereading @loverofhover @babybluelrh98 @leclercdream @baechugff @sunny44 @simplementemeencantafutbol @lilypat @gigigreens @unatempesta-dipensieri

🏎️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ⚽️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 🫐

𝐀/𝐍: second chapter!!! the one you have all been waiting for perhaps. full disclosure, i've never been good at writing the whole degradation thing so it's a bit out of my line of work but here's to trying! see you next week and enjoy 😉

You didn’t think too much before placing your lips on his own, his hand immediately darting from your jaw to the back of your neck. You welcomed the heat of Max’s mouth with open arms, feeling his other hand grasp your hip, pushing your body into his. You could smell him. The suede, smoky, and patchouli notes so strong you could almost taste it on your tongue.

Max could barely let himself think when you toyed with the hem of his shirt, fingers crawling underneath and grazing his skin. He groaned with satisfaction upon the feel of your hand against his bare abdomen, the sound travelling from his throat and reverberating through your mouth.

It wasn’t gentle. Nothing about this was gentle.

Perhaps it was desperate, full of years and years of pent-up annoyance and frustration that you served one another. Max’s mouth was open and greedy. Almost like he had thought about this before. Devouring you that is.

You could only gasp into it, breath catching in your throat while his fingers tightened around your hip – grounding, firm, possessive. You could feel very part of him, his grip bringing you so close to him like he was a predator ensuring his prey didn’t escape.

Your other hand had flown into that light brown hair, tugging sharply enough from him to grunt into your mouth. His lips nudged your own to part, tongue grazing yours with an unhurried leisure, like he wanted to taste all of you to his own accord.

Maybe it was because you were heartbroken. Or maybe it was because you had finally gone crazy. But you kissed him like you had been starved and deprived – because you were. You had denied yourself everything in the hope that one day Charles would feel the same. But Christ, this was what you had missed out on?

Max’s thumb only further dug into your hip, clawing into the chain slung around your waist, a strained moan swirling at the base of his throat when he felt you press up on his growing length. God, you were perfect. The way you slotted against him like you were made for each other.

Your kiss still wasn’t slow. It was like a flickering flame. Fast and burning over and over again. Never quite wanting to go out.

You grasped his shirt in your fingers tightly, breath stuttering when you pulled back just a smidge, swollen lips still brushing against his while your forehead touched. You could hear his breath the way you saw his chest heave: fast and dizzy. You couldn’t help but give a small grin. “We’re not fucking in a bathroom,” you whispered.

You looked back up at Max, breath catching at his darkened eyes and blown pupils. You could’ve sworn he loosened his grip on your hip. “Why not? Too dirty for a princess like you?” He taunted, eyes still focused on your warm lips and flushed cheeks.

You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him begrudgingly, instantly losing all the heat he had brought you while you gathered your things. “You’re in the Circuit hotel, right?” You paused for a second, waiting for his nod. “Room 331. I'll see you after free practice. Good luck dealing with that,” you winked.

Max tongued his cheek, watching you leave before he looked down at the large bulge in his pants. He sighed, shoulders slumping while he rubbed his face. He could tell from the smirk in your face. You knew what he’d be doing for the next ten minutes.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Returning to Charles and Alex, you only gave them a tight smile, failing to ignore the way your heart clenched at the sight of his arm around her waist. You all had hopped into the service car provided, the chauffeur driving you to the hotel before Charles got ready to head to the circuit.

As the scenery of Japan passed by you, you found yourself looking out the window, staring into oblivion, trying to blank out the laughs of the couple next to you. You recalled the past few hours of your life. You couldn’t believe you were seated next to Charles and Alex, minutes after kissing Max, the only man who seemed enjoy your suffering.

Could you even call that kissing?

You were seemingly haunted, still feeling his lips on yours. The pace... his urgency to devour you. As if he couldn’t get enough of your taste.

You blinked, swallowing slowly as Alex called your name out. You turned to her with a small smile and a raised brow. “Are you okay? You didn’t seem that great on the plane. Even Max ran after you,” she asked, tone embedded with disbelief over the Dutch driver.

Charles nodded next to her, mirroring the concern in his eyes. The action still made your heart flutter. The only difference now was that it was reserved. Reserved for his younger brother’s best friend.

Your smile turned tight as you nodded. “I’m fine. Just an upset stomach or something. Max was only there to piss me off as per usual,” you muttered out the believable lie.

Alex nodded in understanding, covering the loud silence from her boyfriend. Your eyes flickered to the building outside your window while the car came to a stop. The Suzuka Circuit Hotel was a pretty little thing, close to the track. The building was mostly glass, lush green grass amongst the paths leading to the entrance. Most of the teams had booked out the place since it was so close to the circuit.

You thanked the chauffeur for opening the car door, your hand only on your purse, carry-on in the back while you exited. You took a sharp inhale of the air, contently humming to yourself. You always loved the smell of Suzuka. Fresh and mixed with a sandalwood and sea smell no matter where you were in Japan. It was still a bit cold despite the sun being out, enough for you to wrap your arms around yourself before taking a step towards the hotel.

“Ma chérie!” A familiar voice yelled.

Your ears perked up, eyes drifting to the figure stationed outside the hotel door. A quick grin sprawled onto your face, feet moving so fast that before you even knew it, your arms were hung around his neck, body swirling in the air. “Arthur!” You laughed, feeling the world spin.

Arthur grinned, putting you down gently. You nudged him with a small pout and narrowed eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Arthur had been a busy guy, testing cars here and there, providing simulator data, and then racing and practicing. He was everywhere but in Monaco, next to you when you needed him the most.

“Of course I would be,” he rolled his eyes, pressing a light kiss to the side of your head. He pursed his lips. “I missed you, you idiot.”

You gave him a pointed look, smile still on your face. “I might have too,” you shrugged casually, shifting on your feet with amusement.

Arthur squinted at you before hooking his arms around your neck and head, your back cowering at his grip. “Might have? Outrageous!” He gasped, only lightly putting you into a headlock.

“Oh, let the poor girl go,” Alex’s voice chided, hand looped through Charles’, who looked at the both of you silently.

It was odd. Suddenly you couldn’t read him. It was usually easy. Every dip of his brow, the degree of how much dimple he showed, the tips of his ears when he lied... all signs you learned by heart. But it was a lot more difficult now.

You blinked as Arthur released you, instantly reminded of who was around you. You pressed your lips, composing yourself with a small exhale as your best friend raised a brow at the new couple. He nudged you with mended brows, head dipping down to whisper. “Did you know about this?”

Your lips parted, light-tipped smile gracing your face. “Only found out a few hours ago,” you mumbled, concealing the way your voice almost faltered.

Arthur shook his head. “Why are we always the last to find out?”

You only gave half a laugh, looking at the floor before turning to the hotel door. You took a step in that direction. “Well, I don’t know about anyone else but I’m going to go unpack.”

Arthur darted his hand out, holding your wrist to prevent you from leaving. “We are getting ice cream, right?” He queried; pleading look on his face. A tradition you had for a few years now. Ice cream in Japan while you talked about whatever and whoever.

You sighed dramatically, unaware of the peering eyes. “I’ll be out in ten.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

You sat in an ice cream shop warmed by dim lights, flowers, and a light blue theme. A place where every year Arthur claimed it wasn't true to Italian gelato but would still order a scoop extra for himself.

“So,” Arthur started, feeding himself some pistachio gelato. “What’s been going on?”

You shrugged, swallowing scoop the gianduja flavoured you always picked out. “Nothing much. Still doing all the boring stuff.”

Arthur gave you a blank look, pointing his spoon at you. “You can’t call travelling for a living and writing about it boring. It’s like saying Charles doesn’t get paid enough to attend those boring galas.”

That’s right. While others assumed you hung around the Leclercs and that’s why you travelled with them, most of your days were spent behind a screen, trying to dish out all beautiful and the ugly of every country or city under a fake name. You loved it though. It was a small blog with accompanied social medias and a cult following that grew every day. It was everything and more than you could ask for.

Your lips curled at Charles’ name. In disgust or fondness – you couldn’t tell. You sighed, nodding slowly, eyes moving around the store, people watching. “You’re right,” you agreed. “What’s up with you?”

Arthur raised a brow, leaning back into his seat. “How do you mean?”

“You and Jade. Off and on? Like a light switch,” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes at him.

Your best friend returned a flat look. Like a light switch was crazy. “I don’t know,” he groaned in defeat. “We keep fighting. And then the next day we’re happy and kissing the shit out of each other. A bit like you and Max.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words. You couldn’t help the events of the morning flood back to your brain. You swallowed, lips parting. “We're nothing like that... w-we're nothing.”

Arthur eyed you slowly. You were acting weird. But since he couldn’t entirely put his finger on why, he decided to let it pass. “Well, yeah. Just except the happy and kissing part. You two are like Tom and Jerry. Always at each other’s throats. Sometimes I think you two need to just fuck it out.”

You choked on your ice cream, hand immediately coming to your chest to soothe the dull ache while Arthur hurriedly pushed a glass of water towards you. You gulped down the liquid, clearing your throat before you glared at him, feeling the stares of some of the other customers around you. “Dude,” you hissed, giving everyone a small apologetic look.

Arthur shrugged, hands raised in his defence. “I’m just saying. I can’t even remember the last time you were in a relationship. When’s the last time you got laid, for crying out loud? I’ve seen footballers in your DMs. Footballers,” he dramatically exasperated, looking at you in awe.

You sighed, looking over at your watch. “I’m leaving in five if you keep talking about this.”

Arthur groaned, begrudgingly pressing his lips together. “I’m just trying to be a good friend,” he mumbled before shoving a spoon of gelato in his mouth.

You gave him a sarcastic smile. “Well, you can always try less.”

Arthur stayed quiet, narrowing his eyes at you. “I hate you.”

“Please. You adore me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Max had always taken pride in his racing. He loved it. No matter how many people told him how he felt about it or what type of racer he was, he knew what he believed in. He loved being in the car. He loved that he could try and become one with gravity at every corner or chicane. He loved it so much he raced during his break. He even loved free practice.

But for the first time in his life, Max had been dying to come out of his car. For the first time, he drove around a circuit in the most uncomfortable pain because all he could think about was you, your lips, and your body pressed against him. He couldn’t even begin to explain the torture of having his cock strain against his briefs while he experienced 5 fucking Gs on his body.

Max had actually fought the urge to knock on your door last night. Maybe his cock was controlling him to walk to your door, but it was his pride that had him walking back to him room after what he could hear through the wall. Instead, he had laid in his bed, pants haphazardly shoved down, hand fisting his cock while he quietly rasped your name and came for the second time that day.

The entirety of Red Bull was left speechless when free practice came to an end and Max spent all but one second in the car before scampering out of the garage and back to the hotel. He ignored the call for lunch as well. What else would he want to eat when he could taste you?

Max had seen you earlier in the paddock, talking to Charles’ trainer, Andrea. He was sure you could feel his eyes burning through your skull, trying to get even a glimpse of your attention, trying to let you see how smug he was. But you paid him none. Only your lips quirking in delight while you talked, dressed in that stupid cream halter top, held together by a shiny gold brooch, and falling thin and sheer across your stomach. He could see it. That waist chain hanging on your hips, the one he felt while he grabbed you and pressed you against him.

Such a fucking tease.

Max waited outside your door after knocking three times and sending you a text when you hadn’t responded. Maybe you had forgotten. Maybe you were backing out. He sighed, resting the back of his head on the door. God, he hoped you weren’t.

“Three texts? I mean would it be wrong to call you... desperate?” Your amused voice chorused through the empty corridor, your phone in one hand, purse on the other.

Okay, fine. Maybe he had sent you more than one text. God, was that a crime?

Max whipped his head to you, silently watching you walk over to him, hand fishing through your purse for your keycard. He inched closer to you, barely centimetres away from you as his hands covered yours to stop you from moving. You stilled, eyes flickering to the way his jaw flexed while his fingers purposely skimmed past your waist, skin heating underneath the thin fabric as he did, before he grabbed the keycard, his eyes focused on your face.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, ears perking at the beeps echoing from your door. You watched cautiously as he walked into your hotel room. He was so quiet. You could barely hear him breathe. Like an animal circling his surroundings. You followed him, closing the door behind you.

He was still in uniform, the RedBull logo glaring at you, still covered in the sweat of today while he turned towards you.

Max did nothing while he stood in front of you, blue eyes planted on you, noticing your every move, following the way you took off your heels that had been killing you all day, the way you put your phone down on the nearby drawer, and lastly, the way you placed your purse next to it – slow and steady because you knew, even if you didn’t really, deep down, in your thudding heart, you knew what was coming.

“Come here,” Max finally spoke, fingers gesturing for you to head towards him.

You stood still for a second, fighting the urge to move. It’s like your body wanted to but your pride wouldn’t let you. Max tilted his head, eyebrows slightly raised as though he was asking if you were really going to challenge him.

No. If he wanted this that badly, he could come to you.

A half laugh fell from his lips, the sound miffed and frustrated after the hours of misery he had been in since he kissed you yesterday. He nodded slowly to himself. “Fine. You can be a brat about it,” he agreed, taking a step closer to you. “Just like how you’ve been teasing me all day.” Another step. “Could’ve made it easier for you.” Another step. Now just inches away, hot breath fawning over you while he stood tall. The corner of his lip quirked when you clenched your thighs. “But I guess you’ll have to learn the hard way.”

You gasped the instant Max’s hands flew to your waist, pulling you right against him while his lips found yours. You couldn’t help but moan at the feel of his warm hands under your loose top, pressing the beads of your waist chain against you.

This wasn’t desperate like you had joked. It was still like it was before. Possessive, firm, and hard. But you could feel it. The aggression as he nipped at your lips, harshly tugging them open so his tongue could claim yours. The groans from his throat, vibrating all the way down your body and touching the heat between your legs.

He didn’t want to just taste you. He didn’t want to feel you. He wanted you to feel him. To memorise how he felt in your mouth. Imprint his very being on your tastebuds so the next time you came to him, you remembered who you belonged to.

His lips were sloppy, capturing the odd edges of your lips. “Arms up,” he commanded, biting down your lip. His chest hummed at the way you followed so easily. Max pulled back, fingers grasping the thin material of that stupid fucking top, riding it up your torso, and off your head. He huffed, laughing to himself quietly when he saw your breasts bounce back. He should’ve known when he saw you in the paddock – too busy trying to get your attention instead. Braless.

“Do you enjoy it?” Max queried, hand grabbing your jaw to look at him like he did in the bathroom yesterday. “Enjoy being a whore in front of everyone? Walking around with everyone’s eyes on your tits?” He almost sung the words, thumb tugging your bitten lip harshly as he pulled down your pants.

You swallowed at his words, thighs clenching together at the feel of your arousal beginning to spill out of your folds. And he saw it. You liked the way he talked.

“You didn’t notice. Too busy trying to look at my eyes,” you quipped back with a dry chuckle. You fluttered your lashes with a few blinks. “Aren’t they so pretty, Max? Is that what you imagined today? In the car? Eyes all wide, looking up at you while I suck your dick?”

Fuck. You almost had his eyes rolling back. He totally had. But you didn’t need to know that.

His jaw tensed, muscle twitching underneath. His fingers tightened around your jaw, a darker laugh falling from his lips. “So cocky for someone who was fingering themselves last night.”

Your body stilled. How the fuck...

Max smirked, the stupid thing permanently etched into his face. “That’s right,” he hummed, fingers trailing down your jaw and to your neck, pushing your hair to the side. “I heard you. Moaning my name while you fucked yourself. You should be more considerate of your neighbours, schat.”

Your skin burned, about to combust into flames while his fingers grazed your chest, a trace of goosebumps left behind. Three times. You came three times last night. Why? You both knew why. Because your fingers alone couldn’t replace Max’s touch.

Your mouth fell open when he pinched your nipple between his fingers, daring to bring you even closer to him. “I should’ve known. Upset over Charles, last night... today in the paddock. You’re just a pathetic pretty little slut, aren’t you?”

Your eyes fluttered shut at his words, thighs hurting from how hard they were pressing against one another. His hand trailed back up, thumb lightly pressing down on your throat, letting only slivers of air pass through while you opened your eyes again. “Use your words,” he coaxed, “Answer my question.”

“Y-Yes,” you replied, breath caught and voice strained. You were stuck. You felt hot all over. Yet the cool air of your room rippled past your body, turning your nipples hard and making your hair stand.

Max smiled at your response, releasing your throat. “Good. Now was that so hard? Always pretending like you hate me but you came to my name three times,” he clicked his tongue, grinning while he shook his head. He took a step back, using one hand to remove his shirt, making you suck in a sharp breath at his taut muscles gleaming at you. You chewed your lip, watching him unbuckle the belt of his jeans, pushing down the material with his boxers.

Your lips naturally parted at the sight of his cock springing free as though it was a meal to devour. You had felt it yesterday against you, growing. But you didn’t imagine it to be so... thick. It was hard and flushed and heavy, thick veins decorating the shaft. Your walls clenched around nothing. Fuck, he was going to split you in half with that.

Max swallowed thickly, processing the look in your eyes immediately. He breathed slowly, trying to compose himself while his cock twitched with disobedience. “My pretty slut,” he rasped. “You’ve been teasing me all day. Always so mouthy. I think I need to teach that dirty mouth a little lesson.”

You weren’t sure when it had happened or how, but you were on your knees, crawling over to him, oblivious to the little restraint you had left Max with as you did so. You leaned on your knees, numb to the small burns of the carpet embedding your skin. You looked up at him like you had told him, eyes wide and doe-like. His cock slapped against your lips while he ordered, “Open up.”

So you did.

Max’s head fell back in the air as your hot breath washed over his cock, instantly making him twitch. Your mouth, fuck, it was so warm. Just like how he had imagined it. His hands had fallen to your loose hair, unbothered if he was gripping the mound of strands too tightly. His lower stomach muscles tensed and shivered at the way your tongue wrapped around the underside of his cock, memorising the feel of his vein in your mouth.

“That’s it,” Max grunted, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. His eyes flickered over you as if he was a critic. Evaluating your performance with the most careful of gazes. “You feel that?” He breathed, hips snapping forward, “Feel how this mouth is made for me? Always using it to piss me off but here you are, taking my cock like you were born to.”

You couldn’t say anything even if you wanted to. He was right. Even as his shaft pressed further down, letting your throat hug every vein, even as your eyes welled with hot tears, you didn’t refuse him. You couldn’t. Because the stretch of your lips around this intrusion was instinctive.

Max’s grip on your hair only tightened as the walls of your throat took him in deeper. He exhaled harshly through his nose while heat curled low in his stomach. The grunts spilled from his lips – unfiltered and raw. You felt unreal around him. The tease of your teeth against his skin. The muffled gags sitting at the base of your chest. Those pretty tears just threatening to come out. God, you were driving him crazy.

It was only getting worse. You weren’t just taking him in like a little slut. No. Your mouth was slowly sucking him, sending small waves of pleasure up and down his cock. He could feel the way you were making him lose himself.

Max had to force himself to push your mouth away, chest heaving as he did. “Don’t get too greedy now,” he breathed out, jaw tensed, skin flushed. His thumb hung around your swollen lips, teasing your tongue. “Should've been a good girl and maybe I would’ve let you swallow my cum,” he chuckled lightly, wet thumb now trailing down the column of your throat, pressing only slightly down – firm. His cock twitched at your whine while his eyes looked down at you. “Too bad you wanted to be a whore instead.”

Your body shuddered at his words. Perhaps it was humiliating. To be on your knees, naked, while he berated you. But the blood in your veins only roared. The pool between your legs only worsened. Heart slamming against your chest.

Max tilted his head, scrutinising the look on your face. He smiled almost innocently. He grabbed your chin, holding you steady. “You wanna be touched?” He cooed, smile easing into a smirk. “Yeah? Does my pretty girl wanna be touched?”

You only breathed, dignity slowly ebbing away. You were this close to nodding. His words alone were making you delirious. But you couldn’t. Somewhere, in the back of your head, a part of you wouldn’t entirely submit. Because while that face was bringing you pleasure, this was the same face that fuelled your hatred. The same one that laughed when you were on the verge of tears.

Max sighed. Amused. He could see it. The fibres of your ego still intact. Not to worry. He didn’t think it’d be that easy. You were never that easy to figure out as kids anyways. “On the bed now,” he ordered, tapping the side of your chin.

You slowly stood back up; knees embedded with a light burn from the carpet – overridden by your desire. You could hear the rumple of his shirt coming off while you inched towards the bed. His pants now fully off, shoes haphazardly shoved to the side of the room.

You laid on your back, letting the softness of the duvet conform to you, eyes intently watching and waiting for Max’s next move.

Max watched you as he stood against the bed. Unintentionally swallowing at the sight of you sprawled out in front of him. He licked his lips in a way that had you shivering. “Beautiful,” he murmured out loud, more to himself than you while he raked over every curve and crevice. That stupid waist chain was doing him in. Laying there so pretty across your bare skin.

Max sucked in a sharp breath, flashing his eyes back to your face. “Open your legs,” he demanded, leaning down to hover over you. His eyes fell to your parting thighs. A huff escaped his lips. He clicked his tongue, grinning. “Look at you,” he drawled, “Dripping all over these sheets. This wet and you’ve only sucked my cock, schat.”

Your jaw tightened, breath slightly shallower. Even while you shivered from the inside out, you couldn’t help but quip back, “I’d be this wet for anyone. Don’t flatter yourself, Max.”

That was a lie. You both knew it.

“Still so mouthy,” he sighed, hands reaching out to skim surface your thighs as he situated on the bed, your legs on either side of his body, open, vulnerable. “Let’s see how much you talk when my fingers are inside you.”

He slid a finger across your heat, barely taking a second to gather some of your slick before he pushed two fingers in. You walls slightly stretched, accommodating the light burn while your breath caught, mouth wide open. You were wetter than you thought was possible. Your body proving all your lies while your pride was on the edge. You were already squirming.

“So tight,” Max grunted, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out, his own body shuddering at the way your walls clenched round him. He looked back at you, finding your eyes shut, dizzy with pleasure. “Open your eyes,” he snapped, his other hand holding your jaw straight. “Watch me make you fall apart.”

Just like that, his fingers sped up, rubbing in smooth circles in that right spot. The wet squelch reverberating throughout your hotel room spoke volumes. You weren’t just dripping. You were drenched.

You listened to his words, eyes open, hazed while they looked at him. Breath trembling, pants stuttering. Your hips grinded up against his hand, making him chuckle. “Greedy slut, aren’t you?”

You whined. You were close now. Your thighs twitched and burned from the tension. The ache curling in your core. A gasp fell from your lips when this thumb pressed against your clit, moving in slow, firm circles.

“F-Fuck,” you breathed out, hands writhing, grasping for anything to hold on to.

“You going to come? Is my pretty girl going to come?” Max sung, blue eyes fixated on the way you looked on the verge of your climax. Teeth sunken into your bottom lip, your eyes struggling to keep open, hips jerking and shaking, craving more and more.

“Max, fuck,” you panted as the coil in your stomach began to unravel.

“Too bad.”

You gasped in shock as his fingers pulled away, leaving your clit throbbing and your cunt clenching around nothing, embers of your approaching orgasm fading away, settling to burn in your core instead.

Max’s cock twitched at the torn look on your face, the way you were positively glistening for him. “Should’ve been a good girl,” he whispered against your thigh, pressing a bruising kiss on the inside, eyes still on you.

You breathed heavily, sweat sticking to your skin. Goddamn it. Shit. You were going to kill him. Your mouth opened, about to promise the threat when all you could do was whimper as his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking in smooth strides, tongue going around in circles.

“Oh my God,” you groaned out, hands falling to his hair, gripping those light brown tresses.

“Not God,” Max grunted, savouring the taste of your cunt, “Say my name.”

You tasted so good. Sweet on his tongue. Addictive. One taste and he’d never let go, he’d swear.

“Max,” you panted out, hips jerking against him, orgasm already coming close after being denied.

He hummed at the sound of his name, tongue sliding past your folds and prodding into where his fingers had just been. He could feel your thighs quiver around him, his fingers sinking into your flesh. You were so close.

The loss of his touch attacked you once again. His warm mouth disappearing from your folds.

“No, no, no,” you cried out, eyes almost welling with tears as you looked at him – angry and desperate. “Please,” you whined, the grip on your pride slowly loosening.

Max’s swollen lips shined with your slick as he smirked. He smiled at the small tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. How pretty. “Not so mouthy anymore, are you? Just a desperate whore for my touch,” he taunted, fingers teasing your wet folds.

Your body burned at his words. This was humiliating. Because he was right. You were clenching around nothing for him. Only getting wetter by the second. Your body screamed for his touch, and he knew it.

“Come here,” he sighed out, moving his body so he faced you head on. His fingers darted out to your eyes, gently wiping the hot tears down your bridge of your nose. You were actually crying. And all it did was make his cock throb.

You shivered at the feel of his length against your thigh, twitching. Max grinned. “You want my cock?”

You nodded numbly.

“Then beg for it,” Max sneered, grinding his cock against your puffy folds, tip nudging your sensitive clit. “Beg for it like you’re my whore.”

He was testing you. You could tell. But your body was defying you. No amount of protest or refusal your brain made had fallen from your mouth. The slow rock of his hips against your hypersensitive cunt had your eyes fluttering. The light press of his hand against your throat seizing your breath.

“Please!” You gasped, body squirming underneath his. “Please, please, Max,” you cried out, tears rolling down your cheeks. You weren’t really speaking anymore. They were babbles of sounds, muffled by all the tears and saliva building up. “Let me come–hmph! Fuck, you’re right. I am your whore. Let me be your cumslut.”

Max shuddered at your words. They were more than he had bargained for. Degrading yourself for him. That’s how desperate you were.

Cumslut... oh Christ.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, schat?” Max grunted, his fingers dug into your hips, holding you steady as he shifted forward. Without any warning, he began pressing his tip in. This stretch was nothing like his fingers. His jaw clenched tightly, while your mouth fell open, fingers shooting out to his shoulder blades, nails digging into his skin.

Max groaned, the sound wavering over your body, his lips pressed up against the side of your neck. “That’s it. Feel me. Feel how I split you open.”

The words wouldn’t come out of your throat. There was nothing going through your head. You could only feel his cock drag against you, filling every crevice of you out.

His breath felt hot against your cheek as he groaned. “It’s like you were made for me. Perfect cunt made for me. Feel so fucking good.”

You back arched on the hotel bed. Max’s hips pressed deeper, and deeper, until there was nothing left between the both of you but the slow, obscene drag of his cock inside your pulsing cunt.

The rhythm of his thrusts was quickly found. You weren’t sure how he did it. It was like he had been plotting it in his head for a while now. Months, perhaps. Longer than the twenty-four hours that had occurred between your first kiss. Potentially too long for the length of your acquaintance.

Each one of his thrusts served a brutal and deliberate purpose. Like he was trying to engrave his very being into you. He was. You could feel it. Like he was praying over and over again in your body as if he had found faith. A religion and it was you.

“Always getting under my skin,” Max rasped, lips haphazardly sliding against your throat. “Now look at you. Under me. Getting fucked open. Taking me like the filthy bitch you are.”

His words were cruel. Enough for your body to flinch and get your brain rerouting once again. You glared at him. “Fuck you,” you half spat out, unable to hide the moans humming at the back of your throat.

Max’s hand returned to your chin, keeping you steady while he forced you to look at him. “I am,” he breathed before chuckling at the way you clenched around his cock again. It’s low and taunting. His hips rolled slow and deep. “You can pretend all you want, my pretty girl. Hate me. But this pretty cunt is telling me everything I need to know.”

Max was right. Your body, your pussy... it all sang to him. Like this was his calling. Like this was what he was born to do. Not race. But fuck this pretty pussy and make you come again and again.

The confusion was beginning to swirl as the heat curled in your core once again. You felt so good. But fuck, you hated him. It wasn’t just hate. He vexed you. Irked you. But you wanted more. More of him. More of his cock.

The pants fell from your lips quickly. His hips snapped hard into you, leaving your thighs trembling. Your orgasm built up again, aching and sore from all the denial – on its last thread.

Max flashed his eyes to you again, moving away from the way you creamed his cock. You were clenching around him – tight and firm. The way your hand moved from his shoulder and to his bicep, like it was keeping you grounded to the earth while mewls repeatedly fell from your lips. You were going to come. Hard.

“Hold it,” Max ordered. “Be a good girl and hold it.”

You writhed under him, glaring at him when his cock slowed, dragging his length in your walls like he was unhurried. The deep thrusts leave your mouth wide open, gasping for air. It was hurting. So fucking much. It was only when you clawed at him, fingernails scraping his shoulder blades and teeth biting down so hard on your lip that it was one tear away from drawing blood, that he heard the plea fall from your lips.

“Please. Max. Please, please, please.”

The tears were rolling down your cheeks once again. Loose hair sticking on your skin. Fuck, how much were going to undo him? “Come,” he rasped, reverent and unsteady. “Come for me. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

Your body spasmed underneath his while he thrusted into you mercilessly, not letting you even breathe when you fell apart. You gasped, tightening your grip on his shoulders while the salt of your tears mixed into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Max couldn’t help himself. The dazed look on your face, your blown pupils... The corner of his lip tugged upwards as if he was hungry. Then he moved you – hands flying to your hips, pulling you over his lap, shifting the angle.

His pace is rougher now. Faster. No longer did he want you to feel every inch him. He was a crazed man. If your body was bruised with his touch, it was welcoming, meeting every snap of his hips like the greedy slut Max thought you were. It almost hurt. Overwhelming your overstimulated cunt. But you couldn’t get him to stop. You didn’t want him to. You wanted him to ruin you.

“Want to be my cumslut? Yeah?” He breathed heavily. “Then take it. Take all of me.”

His lips found yours. His kiss was injuring – hard. Max slammed your body against his cock, swallowing your contented hums, grunting at the feel of your hands travelling through his hair, tugging harshly. His grip on your hips was damaging – vicious. He could taste you. Your arousal. Your sex. Your tears. God, it was driving him crazy.

“Fuuuck. Just like that. Milk me,” he rasped. Max’s body stilled hard and fast, hips twitching, voice stuttering out a string of obscenities. Ropes of him cum spilling out into your walls, keeping you warm to your very core.

Max stayed there for a moment. Fingers softening around your hips as he pulled out of you. Quietly breathing out your name as you both came back to reality. He moved away from you briefly, eyes falling over your face as you laid on the bed. Christ, you looked– fucked out. Eyes glassy, skin flushed, chest still heaving like you were trying to catch up as him cum dripped out of you. You were ruining him.

His jaw tightened, eyes flickering down to those soften, swollen, and bitten lips of yours. He sucked in a sharp breath. His voice was rough. “Okay?”

You blinked, breathing slowly. You nodded. “Okay.”

#mickyschumacher #micky's revolving door series 🫐#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #f1 smut

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mickyschumacher · 6 days ago

Text

[REVOLVING DOOR! PT.1]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your world is mostly perfect – or as perfect as it could get. but one lunch, one plane ride, and one bathroom ruins it all. or in which steering clear of max is going to be harder than you thought.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, angst, poor humour, heartbreak, suggestive ig, mention of daddy issues briefly, childhood sexism

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: max verstappen x fem!reader, charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.6k+

𝐀/𝐍: first chapter!!! gah i'm so excited for this series – you guy have no idea. yeah no smut in this one so you'll have to keep waiting 🫣

🏎️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ⚽️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 🫐

You weren't Charles' best friend like everyone had always thought. Even if you were at all his races. Even if you were around him all the time. At all his most important parts of his life.

No. You were Arthur's best friend. Charles... Charles was your best friend's older brother. One you had spent a couple years too long falling over.

You weren't quite sure what it was nor how it started. You had spent your entire life in Monaco, same as the Leclercs. You had grown up side by side with Arthur and Charles. Every street, every building... they all held your memories.

You could still clearly picture your ten-year-old self running across the streets with Charles and Arthur as Lorenzo followed behind you all. You remembered the time where Charles fell over and hurt his knee – you and Arthur were sent to a state of panic which put Charles into panic before your mother found you and cleaned Charles up. The moment had left you the three thinking that your mother was some sort of magician. Or the time you and Charles decided to prank Lorenzo with a lizard you both found and put it down his shirt, resulting in the latter running around like a maniac while you and Charles laughed so hard your stomachs ached even a half hour later.

Then there were the other memories. Memories Charles perhaps didn't care about as much as you did.

Not when you sat in bed sick and he did everything to make you laugh. Not when only the both of you would walk around Monaco and he'd talk about his aspirations in life, and you'd listen. And especially not when he said you were the only person in his life that made him feel put together.

It made you feel warm. Important to Charles. And that’s how your puppy love was birthed, you supposed.

You knew what you were to Charles. The same as Arthur. A younger sibling. A sister. You didn't act on it then. But now that you were older, you had some hope.

But you were good at it. The pretending, that is.

Pretending those hugs after his races were just friendly and you weren't melting on the inside. Pretending to look at him only for a few seconds in case anyone else could see how you felt. Even when you were right next to him, you looked from afar because that was all you could do. Because you would rather die than let anyone else know.

Dramatic? Yes. But unrealistic? No.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You, Charles, Lorenzo, and your good friend Alexandra, were in Monaco as per usual. Having some lunch outside, soaking up the sun that had come out to play after some rain when a familiar voice pierced the air.

"Charles!" The voice chorused, nearing your table.

Your smile dropped, albeit discreetly. Your eyes shut while you sucked in a sharp breath. That was the voice of a very annoying, vexing, irritating–

"Max!"

You opened your eyes, shoulders settling back into your chair. Fuck.

You turned your head at the same times as the others, a fake smile plastered across your face as your hand shielded your eyes from the sheer nuisance that was Max Verstappen.

Max... the only person who knew how you felt about Charles. The only person who genuinely made you contemplate jumping off a cliff or dying in a hole – both of which he said was "not far enough." Asshole.

How he found out... well that still was mostly a mystery to you

Apparently, he had known since you were kids attending Charles' karting races where Max would also participate. Something about how obvious it was because "no girl at the age of five in Monaco would attend a karting race in their free time". Of course, Max was eight then so what did he know? Although, you would never admit it, but he was also very right. Your interest in racing was minimal, a liability of being friends and in love with Charles.

It wasn't until Charles joined the grid with Alfa Romeo and you joined him for his first race in 2018 where you met Max again. He was still irritating as hell, arrogant smirk sprawled on his face, a knowing glint in his eyes, reminding you exactly what you were wondering: he still knew.

You didn't need to question it. It was obvious for the both of you. Because why on earth were you still attending all these races if you felt nothing?

You tried your best to stay out of Max's way. It was better for your sanity. You wanted to protect your peace. But he seemed to invade it whenever it was possible. Always under your skin. Especially since moving to Monaco a few years back. Even worse, Charles had become good friends with him.

And at this point... there was no peace.

"Take a seat, take a seat!" Charles greeted, hand gesturing to the empty chair next you.

"Christ," you muttered under your breath, adjusting in your seat. Max, who had seemingly heard you, only grinned, sliding next to you.

You said nothing as everyone fell into conversation, idly sipping the cocktail in your hand. Sitting next to Max made you want to peel your skin off and gouge your eyes out. His body thrummed with the knowledge he knew. He had an upper hand and you absolutely, profoundly hated it.

"Careful there. Too much and who knows what you'll be saying," Max quietly murmured, dipping his head near you, arm stretching over to your chair as the other three talked.

You nodded, pursing your lips while you rested your cup. "Yeah, you're right. Who knows who I'll stab too," you retorted sweetly back, curling your lip in annoyance.

Max chuckled lightly, removing his arm, picking up the intrigued look from Charles. "What's so funny?" Your best friend queried, grin on his face.

You swallowed at the sight of his dimples, managing to smile softly. "Nothing really. You know Max. Very funny," you dryly said, rubbing your finger on your glass, ignoring the amused expression on the Dutch driver's face.

Alexandra laughed softly. "You both are very good comedians. If you ever stop racing, you should start a stand-up show with this one."

You tried your best to not shiver in disgust at the thought. You couldn't even share one room together let alone a stage in front of people.

“I think Max knows where he should stick his business into,” you remarked, giving him a slight pointed look as you nudged him lightly in the rib. You needed to put a stop to this before anyone else got even a wind of how you felt for Charles.

Max poked his cheek with his tongue, holding back the grin on his face. He nodded slowly, looking over at you with a sickly-sweet smile. “Yeah, I’m perfect where I am,” he agreed, not taking your bait for even a second.

You held in the line of grumbles and obscenities Max could see running through your head. You only sighed quietly, returning to take a sip of your drink before leaning back into your chair. Your tongue kissed your teeth, breathing shallow while everyone laughed and returned to their conversations.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Max snorted quietly, voice barely a whisper

Your jaw clenched, fingers tightening around your cup. “Shut up,” you simply retorted, pretending the same question he asked every year didn’t haunt you. You swallowed thickly, taking in the last gulp of your drink. “This week.”

Max widened his eyes slightly, taking you in carefully as if he was trying to catch your lie. He settled back when he realised you were serious. Lips firm, eyes determined. He looked at his glass of water, pursing his lips. “What are you going to say?”

You shrugged, finger grazing the rim of your cup while you tilted your head. “Whatever I feel.”

Max pressed his lips together, turning his head to you. “A hundred you back out.”

A huff of annoyance fell from your lips. Dick.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It was lie. Fuck! You had it said it on a whim! You weren’t going to tell Charles. God, you had spent literal years trying to. Why would you do it now?

Screw Max for getting on your nerves so goddamn easily!

Three days. You had been ignoring Charles for three days. Barely glancing over his texts. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to even say when you looked at him. Now every time you looked into those blue eyes, all you could think of was Max’s stupid smirk and his bet. If you were ever making it alive after this, you were going to kill that Dutch man.

Just when you had thought you could get away with not seeing Charles, the circled numbers on your calendar had sorely reminded you of what was to come: the Japanese Grand Prix.

Shit.

You had begrudgingly packed your suitcase, eyeing the take-off time for the jet. What the hell were you going to do? There was no way in hell you weren’t going to bump into Max. Hell, he’d probably greet you at the airport with that evil grin of his, hand stretched out for some petty money.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Arriving onto the jet, you widened your eyes at the familiar girl in front of you. “Hey, Alex! I didn’t know you were coming!” You smiled, giving her a quick hug before you sat across her.

Charles, who was talking to Andrea, his trainer, sighed, walking over to the both of you. “You would know if you read any of my texts, you idiot,” he stated, taking a seat next to Alex.

You rolled your eyes at his playful gaze, looking away when it felt like you would melt out of nervousness. You rummaged through your purse, trying to find some gum. “I was very busy and– oh, there it is,” you said, grasping the packet. You looked back at the two, about to speak when your eyes fell to the intertwined hands resting on Charles’ lap. One belonging to him and the other Alex.

You blinked, pursing your lips. “When... when did this happen?” You queried, unable to look away from those hands.

Charles narrowed his eyes. “Another thing would know if you read my texts. We’re dating. I told Alex after we left the café with Max and Lorenzo,” he grinned, softly looking over at his new girlfriend, squeezing her hand lightly.

Your heart thudded in your ears. Your stomach churned. Palms clammy. You felt sick. The world had stopped spinning. The clouds still like you were frozen in time.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Oh.” You swallowed thickly, furrowing your brows. You looked over at Charles, keeping a small smile on your face. “I never knew you liked her. You never told me. I would’ve... helped,” you murmured, internally wincing at the lie.

Charles snorted while Alex laughed. “Because you would’ve told her on my behalf. I wanted to do it by myself.”

You nodded slowly, smiling gently as you registered his words. You breathed in, clasping your hands as you beamed at them. “Well, congratulations. You make a good couple.”

“Thank you.” Alexandra smiled so softly in return you couldn’t even feel an inch of jealousy. Your body burned with something else. Ill. Nausea of a one-sided betrayal.

━━━━━━━━━━━

If you had taken the time to notice, you would’ve been right. Max, whose jet had landed at the same time as yours, was indeed waiting for you, all prepared with a victorious smirk.

But as you came off the jet, all Max could see was you mumble something to Charles and Alex and walk towards him and right past him. All he could see was your pale face that looked as though it had seen death itself. He saw you bite down on your lip, hands clenched on your carry-on, barely breathing.

Max opened his mouth as you rush past him. “Hey– what’s your prob–”

And then he saw it.

Max’s eyes fell to the same intertwined hands you had seen on the jet.

Fuck.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You had no idea where you were. Only that you were somewhere around Chubu Centrair International Airport in an empty bathroom and ow you wanted to be. Alone.

Your eyes welled as you looked in the mirror. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to cry. This type of heartbreak... it was like someone had ripped your heart right out of your chest and left you lying there, empty and void.

You kept replaying every second in the jet. Their hands. Their smiles at each other. Their laughs. So happy. So sweet.

All the things you wanted to do with Charles except you weren’t the person he wanted. You were still Arthur’s best friend. Still Charles’ sister. That’s what you were.

Your eyes flickered to the bathroom door opening through mirror, a familiar peek of light brown hair entering. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Max, this is a girl’s bathroom.”

“Does it really look like I care?” He quipped back, eyeing you carefully.

You grumbled under your breath. “If you want your hundred dollars then you can fuck off,” you muttered, grabbing the hair tie on your wrist to gather your hair and put it into a ponytail.

Max watched you turn on the tap, washing the colour of frustration and betrayal off your face. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaning his back on the door. He looked at you. “This is pathetic. I mean, really? Crying over Charles? How soft are you?” He huffed, folding his arm.

You clenched your jaw, wet eyes glaring at him through the mirror. “I’m not crying,” you hissed.

Max pushed himself off the door. You watched him walk towards you, eyes narrowed. Your eyes widen upon the feel of his fingers wrapping around your jaw, forcing you to look at him. He smirked at the sight of your face, wiping the trails of water on your skin. "You’re upset about something you could’ve done years ago? Why? Is your little heart broken? God, cry me a river,” he sneered.

Your body burned at his words. His tone almost innocent if it wasn’t for the arrogance sprawled over his face.

“You’re such an asshole,” you snarled, lips quirking at the corners. You could feel his breath fawn over your skin. “You know you don’t have to bring your daddy issues everywhere, right?”

Max’s grip on your jaw tightened at your words, his pupils dilating. “You’re no fucking better. Always crying about Charles. How pathetic are you?”

“Fuck you,” you almost immediately retorted.

Max stayed silent for a moment, blue eyes tracing over your lips and the way your chest heaved out of sheer anger. Such a pretty sight. “You can. When we need to get something off our minds,” he suggested with a careless shrug.

You snorted, eyes flickering around the bathroom. “Please. As if I’d let you touch me.”

“I’m touching you now, aren’t I?”

You swallowed hard at his words. You pondered over the offer. By the way your thighs were clenching, it was clear that it had been a long time since you had put pleasure before your feelings. You narrowed your eyes. “No strings attached?”

Max gave a curt nod. “None. We finish and leave. Deal?”

You chewed your lip cautiously, unaware of how bad Max wanted to bite them when you did that. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But you were past the point of caring. Whatever you had been feeling for years on end, you wanted it out of your system. Now.

“Deal,” you sighed.

Max’s eyes shined with satisfaction. His thumb rubbed your bottom lip, flesh still red from where you chewed. He looked back at you with such a darkness, you couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath. “Don’t you think we should seal it with a kiss?”

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